Disclaimer: the characters of Supernatural were created by Eric Kripke and are owned by the CW Network. No profit is being made.

NOTE TO READERS: This story is set in season 3 somewhere between "The Kid's Are Alright" and "Red Sky at Morning."

I hope you like this newest chapter fic. This chapter is about 5 pages long. Not sure how many chapters this story will have … most likely it will be around three to five chapters long; we'll see how it shapes up. I know I haven't written for a while but my schedule has been insane and I've had no time to write. I have plenty of ideas sketched out on stories and hopefully I'll be able to squeeze some time into my schedule to write them all, I hope. At any rate, here's a new one for you. Happy Reading! I'd love to hear what you think, but don't feel obligated to review, I just hope you enjoy it. Thanks!!


Chapter One

By Dawn Nyberg

"If this world is wearing and you're thinking of escape I'll go anywhere with you, I'll do anything it takes, but if you try to go alone don't think I'll understand … stay with me…" lyric excerpt by Shakespear's Sister, Stay.

The Edge of Rapid City, South Dakota

Grandma's Pantry Diner on Route 79

"Sam? Earth to Sammy," Dean reached over and thumbed his brother's blue plate diner special toward him bunching Sam's paper placemat with a map of South Dakota on it, "Hey?"

"Huh," Sam finally seemed to focus on the fact his brother was speaking to him let alone scooting his plate precariously closer to the edge of the table. He reached up lethargically and pushed the plate back a few inches.

"What's up with you space cadet?" Dean frowned at his little brother.

"What'd you mean?"

"Well, let's see that spirit almost took your head off with a bed pan at that sanitarium and you've been spacing out the last couple weeks or so … somethin' goin' on in that freaky head of yours?" Dean knew Sam was troubled by the 'deal' he had made to save his life and the fact that time seemed to be moving along quickly toward his bill coming due at the Crossroads wasn't helping matters, but he couldn't let it preoccupy his brother and get Sam hurt or killed on a hunt. They were at war and Sam needed to be sharp.

"No, I'm fine," Sam answered as he squinted at his brother against the light filtering into the diner through the window. He reached up and rubbed between his eyes for a moment.

"Another headache?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, no big deal," Sam dropped his hand and stared at his plate of food despite the pain and pressure was still flaring behind his eyes.

"You going to eat any of that? It's gotta be cold by now."

"I ate some," Sam protested.

"You pushed it around for ten minutes and then spaced off … that doesn't count as eating." Dean grumbled. "Look, we're done with the job I say we head out and stay at Bobby's a few days, take a break … how's that sound?"

"I'm fine Dean," Sam answered with a little annoyance.

"Sam you say that word so damn much I don't even think it's a word anymore. We'll go to Bobby's and anyway the Impala could use an oil change."

"Yeah, whatever, we ready to go?"

"Yeah, come on I gotta pay up at the register. I'll call Bobby from the road … we're a couple hours from him and I'll give him a heads up that we're comin'. You can eat there," Dean left it as a suggestion trying not to sound like it was a big brother order. Sam simply nodded.

Dean slid out of his seat and moved toward the cashier near the front. Sam followed suit and stopped suddenly. There was a flash of light behind his eyes and everything seemed to take on a halo effect for a moment. He reached out his hand settling it on the table top, his hand landing on the edge of his brother's paper place mat and then all he knew was nothing. Sam's eyes rolled back into his head and he crumbled, his hand pulling the paper mat with him far enough that it pulled Dean's plate and silverware toward the edge and sent it crashing from the booth seat to the floor near his head.

A waitress called out in alarm and Dean spun around at the crashing sound and the waitress's yell. What he didn't expect to see was his little brother's long limbs all akimbo as he seized on the floor.

"Sammy!" Dean ran to his brother's side. He slid a hand under his brother's head trying to prevent his head from repeatedly hitting the floor as he seized. He tried to hold his brother gently on his side as the seizure continued. Dean looked up his eyes wide with intense panic and desperation, "Call 911, now!" His attention returned to his brother. "Sammy, I'm here, I'm right here, okay?" Dean spoke softly to his sibling in the hopes that his voice was breaking through. Sam's face grimaced involuntarily as he seized.

It felt like an eternity and finally the seizure slowed to a tremble and stopped altogether. "That's it Sammy, I got ya, you're okay," Dean soothed. He looked up at the small gathering around himself and his brother. "Where's the damn ambulance?" And, just as the diner manager was about to speak the sound of a siren pierced the air and Dean knew help was coming. "Hear that Sammy? Help's comin' and we're gonna get you fixed up." He continued to hold his brother's head gently in his hands and supported on his left thigh.

The paramedics came into the diner and started rattling off questions about allergies, any symptoms, personal information about his brother and Dean's mind reeled as he watched them move his brother onto a backboard and attach a heart monitor and pulse-ox clip. Another paramedic started an IV line.

"Does he suffer from a seizure disorder?" one paramedic asked as he wrote on a clipboard.

"No, Sam's healthy," and just as Dean finished answering the question another paramedic barked from the floor.

"He's seizing again … get some Ativan on board and see if that helps, come on let's get him to Regional, ASAP."

"Pushing the Ativan," one medic answered quickly. Dean stared at his brother waiting for the horrible jerking to stop. A long moment passed and the medic blew out a breath, "Ativan's working," he spoke evenly as Sam's body began to relax and stop seizing. "Let's get him loaded and go." His partner nodded in agreement.

"Sam?" Dean stepped forward as his brother was lifted on a gurney and was rolled out of the diner. Dean attempted to follow his brother into the ambulance.

"No, Sir, I'm sorry … there isn't any room, you'll have to follow us. We're going to Rapid City Regional Hospital it's on Fairmont Boulevard if you lose us in traffic. Park in the ER parking lot go to the glass entrance doors." The medic quickly closed the doors and shut Dean off from his little brother and in that moment he felt sick desperation and with the disconnect from his brother that cold fear he felt back in Cold Oak when he saw Sam brutally stabbed filled him once again. He ran to the Impala and peeled out of the parking lot trying to follow the ambulance, but it was pointless as he was held back at a red light. He hit the steering wheel in anger and when it turned green he squeezed the wheel until his knuckles were white, his mind on one thing, Sammy.

Rapid City Regional Hospital, Three Hours Later

Dean had finally quit pacing a little over an hour ago and still there was no word on his brother. The nursing staff at the desk had simply kept repeating the same response over and over … that when there was news the doctor would be out. Dean wanted answers now but he had to wait and that was something he couldn't do very well especially when he was waiting to hear news on his little brother. Dean alternated between watching the trauma doors to staring at his hands in his lap. There was a metal clink and whoosh noise that Dean knew was associated with the trauma doors – every time he had heard that noise in the past three hours always ended in irritation and lost hope when he'd see a doctor emerge and announce a name he didn't care about. He looked up out of reflex expecting another name another family member and when he heard "Family of Sam Kline," from a doctor in blue scrubs and white coat he leapt from his seat and surged forward.

"Sam's my brother," Dean answered quickly. "How is he?" The doctor extended his hand.

"I'm Dr. Lowe, and I've been your brother's attending physician," Dean shook the hand quickly and was all business.

"I'm Dean … what about my brother?" The doctor scanned the busy ER waiting room.

"Here follow me and we'll talk," the doctor inclined his head toward another set of automatic doors. "We can use one of the family conference rooms." Dean didn't like the sound of that …

"My brother's okay isn't he?" Dean stood his ground and the doctor offered a small smile, Dean guessed it was supposed to offer some semblance of reassurance, it didn't.

"He's resting Mr. Kline."

"It's Dean."

"Dean," the doctor restated. "Now, how about that conference room ... unless you want to talk out here with the noise and crying babies," the doctor replied.

Dean followed the man through the doors.

"Okay, Dean, your brother has given me and neurology a run for our money tonight. I want to show you something," the doctor shoved two scans up on a light board. "This is a normal Cat scan and normal MRI scan of a brain."

"Okay, so Sam's okay?" Dean hedged.

"These aren't your brother's. I just wanted you to have a reference for comparison." He proceeded to shove two more films side by side with the others. "This is Sam's CT and his MRI scans," the doctor pointed to each indicating which was which. Dean knew it didn't take a doctor to figure out that his little brother's scans were screwed up. Something was wrong, very wrong.

"What is that stuff?" Those big circle lookin' areas?" Dean saw several areas that looked likes masses. Dean felt his stomach clench and the nausea begin to climb up his throat as thoughts of multiple brain tumors entered his mind. Jesus, please don't let Sammy have brain tumors, please…his mind silently reeled. He found his voice, "Are those tumors?"

To Be Continued ….

I'll try to update as soon as I can … probably around Tuesday or Wednesday, maybe sooner if time permits. Thanks for reading!