Here we are, folks. The last chapter. Thanks for all the reviews, it's been fun. ♥


Chapter Ten


"Hey, yeah, it's me," his brother said quickly, almost nervously as he fussed with putting away the cheap hospital-supplied surplus book he'd been reading with little interest for the past, oh, he didn't know… hour or so. He fumbled a page and dropped it, the text hitting the floor with a thwack. He left it there.

"You can see me?" Dean asked, and the look on Sam's face was pure confusion.

"Of course, I can, Dean…" the question obviously concerned Sam, and he looked from his brother to the hospital room door and back again. "Listen, I'm gonna go get a doctor in here—"

"No, no no no. Wait. What the hell happened?" Dean attempted sitting up, though he ached all over. Thankfully he wasn't hooked up to anything, but when he looked his right forearm and left bicep were bandaged and his head hurt like a bitch.

"Dean, you lost control of the car while you were driving in that storm, remember?" Sam sat down again. "It was snowing out. I kept calling you but you wouldn't pick up—"

Dean did a mental 'ah-ha!'. The song he kept hearing had been his cell phone ringtone. Why hadn't he realized that?

"—So after a while I got a ride with someone to go look for you."

Dean winced, his head already beginning to throb. He put a hand to it. "By 'got a ride' you mean 'hotwired a car', right?" When Sam didn't answer, he discovered it sort of hurt to laugh, even if it was a small amount. "All right. And?"

"And you managed to grab yourself some kind of miracle, that's what," Sam said quietly. "The doctors say that if the car had still been turned on you might've died from carbon monoxide poisoning in the time it took to find you. You must've gotten the keys out just in time or something."

Dean shifted uncomfortably. "Got lucky."

"Considering you didn't freeze to death out there? I'd say so." Sam nodded as he spoke, an incredulous laugh almost escaping him. "You managed to get out with a mild concussion, a few abrasions and a mild case of hypothermia. Plus you've been out of it since I found you last night. Dean, you're lucky to be alive."

"You two are lucky to be alive."


"That's enough, Sam."

Sam drummed his fingers on his knee, nervous for some reason. "The snow stopped last night. The doctor says the roads usually get plowed the morning after, so we should be able to head for the next state tonight." Sam eyed Dean. "Since I know that you wouldn't want to stick around here much longer, seriously hurt or not."

Next state, huh? "… Going out with somebody who moved around all the time, livin' mostly in motels with his dad and little brother."

"Yeah. Sooner we get out, the better."

"So you're feeling all right? You're not writhing in pain, so that should be some kind of indication." Sam was trying to make light of the situation now, trying to make Dean feel a little better about the fact he'd just woken up in the hospital.

"I'm good. Just banged up, feel like I just got my ass kicked by a brick wall…" He shifted again, coughed. "Feelin' kinda numb. But hey, you know me. I've been through worse." Dean fell silent, staring at the white hospital wall behind Sam before his little brother noticed the troubled look on his face.

"What's the matter?"

"Hm? Nothin'," Dean replied automatically before realizing what he was saying. "Actually, uh… later. I'll tell you later." He knew Sam didn't believe him, but he didn't care. He turned his body so that his legs hung over the edge of the bed, looking his little brother in the eyes. "I just wanna get out of here."

"No, Dean. I know that look."

Dean raised his eyebrows at him insistently. "Sam, later."


"Sam. I got a lot to think about right now, okay? And I'll tell you when I tell you. I promise."

"You just came out of a car accident."

"I just came out of a lot more than that," Dean muttered as he pushed himself off of the bed, standing on weak legs. "Get me out of here, Sammy." To divert his brother from the subject, he gave him a friendly swipe in the arm.

He wouldn't tell Sam about his misadventures in his mind – mostly because it was crazy and Sam would fuss, ask thousands of questions and then take it as some kind of ammunition for later if they ever got into an argument about Dean needing help again – but he definitely had a heck of a lot to talk (or try, anyway; talking about things wasn't exactly his strongest suit) about on their drive out of Colorado. It would be a new step for Dean Winchester, quite possibly, and maybe a new step for the both of them.

Sam rubbed his punched arm. "Fine. Jerk."


… In some aspects.


"Sammy… what about the Impala?!"