Title: Culpa

Summary: Culpa-Spanish for "guilt" or the English word culpability (same meaning). This is set anywhere before Devil's Trap.

Disclaimer: If I owned the show and its characters, oh the damage I would do. I seriously would write myself into every love scene if there were any. But sadly I don't own it yet...its on my list of things.

Warnings: Mild language, I try to stick to the cursing they use in the show. So using the words f and s will not be anywhere in here because those words aren't used on the show.

A/N: Well I'm back again, took a break for a while but now I've got the creative juices flowing. So i hope you like! Pleasereview if you like the story, gives me more reason to finish it lol :D


"Sam I'm over here."

Sam hopped over branches and logs to get to his brother. "You alright?'

"Fine, the son-of-a-bitch is fast that's all. I swear I'm getting too old for this crap." Dean said, trying to suppress his panting when he spoke. "I think I might have clipped its arm, you got any bullets left?"

Sam clicked back the latch on the bottom of his gun, letting the clip fall into his hand. He studied the five empty sockets before handing the two remaining silver bullets to his brother.

"You keep one, you got to have something to protect your own ass." Dean said, taking only one of the two.

"And I thought that was your job." Sam teased.

"Whatever. You go left , I'll go right, and we'll meet up somewhere in the middle."

They turned and started in their directions.

"Hey Dean." Sam said, looking back over his shoulder.


"Make it count this time."

Dean looked down, thinking to himself for a second.

"I won't miss."


The loud beep of the monitors brought Dean out of his insensibility. He rubbed his hand over his face, shaking himself of the past events he so desperately wish would dissipate from his mind. He glanced up at Sam, who seemed to be resting more comfortably now. He quickly turned away, feeling nauseous at the sight of Sam being hooked up to so many machines. An IV in his arm, a oxygen tube down his throat, small white circles with red and black wire attached to them pasted to the side of his head. It was enough to make anyone's head spin. He scooted his chair away from Sam's bed, carefully using the bars to support him self as he got up. He gave a low yet audible sigh as he gently stroked the back of Sam's hand.

"I'll be right back Sammy."

He walked out into the hall, pressing his back against the pastel-colored wall. He watched the nurses with their clipboards and the secretaries answering phones calls. With all the fuss going on around him, he never felt so alone. The world seemed in slow motion, making Dean Winchester hide within himself, hoping he could turn invisible if he wished it.

"Dean?" a sweet voice called from the end of the hall. It was Sam's nurse, Sydney. Dean let his reveries fizzle away as the young brunette approached him with her translucent pink clipboard and tan folders.

"Good news I hope."

"Some. Sam's test results came back negative for brain damage from lack of oxygen. His vitals have remained stable for the past couple of days.

"So you think he'll be waking up soon?"

"That brings me to the bad news."

Deans heart slowly sank as she flipped through the tan folder that contained Sam's test results and medical forms.

"Sam's complication from his wound is getting worse, the doctor will have to remove the excess air around his collapsed lung."

"What is he going to do?"

"He's going to insert a chest tube. Its as hollow, plastic tube that is inserted into the pleural cavity in between the ribs. The tube will then be attached to a suction device."

"So after they suck out the air, Sam will be okay?" Dean questioned, still clinging onto the prayer of silent hope.

"Well this is a major surgery Dean, there are risks. If something should go wrong in surgery, Sam could go into cardiac arrest or a hypoxic coma.

She could tell by the way Dean raised an eyebrow that he didn't understand what an hypoxic coma was.

"Oxygen deprivation to the brain occurs when insufficient or no oxygen reaches the brain, either because the respiratory or breathing system fails. The brain does not store any oxygen. As a result, if the oxygen supply to the brain is cut off, the brain dies within two minutes. Going into cardiac arrest would cut off some of the oxygen and bringing him back before the two minutes are up would likely put him into a hypoxic coma given his current state."

"So your saying that if he has the surgery he could die, but if he doesn't have it he might die too?" He said with disbelief.

"Hold on just calm down Dean. If he has the surgery and everything goes well he should be back on his feet within a couple of weeks to a month. If he doesn't have the surgery, we can make him as comfortable as possible and monitor his vitals to see if he improves. So yes, I say it would be taking a risk both ways."

She took out one of Sam's medical forms from the folder and grabbed a pink pen from her pocket. "Actually, we need your consent on his surgery."

Dean returned his eyes to Sam, watching his chest rise and fall in a mechanical way. He closed his eyes tightly, trying to hold in the tears that had been burning at his eyes. He lowered his head, pinching the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger.

"If he was your brother, what would you do?"

She fixated her eyes on Sam then returned her eyes to Dean. "I would choose the surgery, definitely."

"Yeah me too. Okay we'll do that then." He took then pen and scribbled down his signature, trying to avoid reading the "possible death" and other negative words that were printed on the form. He handed them back to her with a half smile. He watched her eyes fall onto the clock in the hallway. It was 10 p.m. To Dean the last eight hours only felt like eight minutes. "So I guess I have to go now huh?"

Curse these damn visiting hours.

Sydney gave a sincere smile. "I guess it will be okay if you stay a little bit longer."

"Thanks Syd." He realized how comfortable he had grown with the staff in the past couple of days. She didn't like when people would call her anything but Sydney, but Dean was so handsome that she would melt at the sound of him saying her name, even if it was only part of it.

"No problem." She winked at the elder Winchester and excused herself from the room. She made her way back to the nurses station when nurse Gail came walking up.

"Hey Sydney, how's he doing?"

"He's taking it really hard, I feel sorry for the guy. He's been here all day everyday for the past two weeks. He doesn't look like he's been eating or sleeping. I'm already concerned with his brother's health, now I have to be concerned with his health too." She stopped when she noticed Gail was giving her a funny look. "What?"

"I was talking about the patient."

She smirked and looked down the hall into Sam's room. Dean was sitting by his side, his head face down in Sam's mattress. After five minutes he slowly lifted up, letting the tears trickle down his face.

"Sammy, its time to wake up now, sleep time's over." He wiped his face with the back of his hand.

God Sam, its all my fault. How could this happen? I didn't mean for it to happen, how could I have been so stupid…

A small knock at the door shook Dean from his thoughts. He looked over his shoulder, not surprised at seeing Sydney's gentle face.

"I'm sorry but its time to go Dean." She said, her voice sounding sorrowful. She hated that look he had when she told him that.

He stood up, carefully grasping Sam's hand and giving it a gentle squeeze.

"I'll see you tomorrow buddy." He said in a soft tone. With that he left the room, Sydney gave him a pat on the back as he walked out.

"See you tomorrow Dean."

Yeah tomorrow.

She saw him give a slight wave as he passed thought the glass sliding doors.


A/N: Please R&R I'd love to know what you think!