Still don't own Supernatural. Not suing would be appreciated. I have no money, I promise, so please just let me use the brilliant characters.

Anyway, thanks for the reviews.


The emergency room wasn't busy and John was thankful. It took only a few seconds for a nurse to notice Sam limp in his father's arms. She called for a gurney and a doctor. Everything moved quickly after that.

Sam was taken from John's arms and placed on the gurney. The boy was taken away and John was left with Dean and Bobby at his side.

The minutes passed like hours for the three. They were the only ones in the waiting room, the only ones pretending to read the magazines in the hard chairs.

Dean walked up to his dad and rested his hand on John's shoulder. "Dad."

John looked up at his boy.

"Sammy's gonna be okay. He always is."

He smiled slightly. "I know."

The hours passed. Dean fell asleep in the chair next to John, his head rested on his father's shoulder. Bobby sat at John's other side. His phone rang and he answered it before it could wake Dean.

Bobby stood and walked a few steps away. "Hello? Yeah." He glanced over at John. "Probably not. Yeah, give me ten minutes." He closed his phone and walked over to John. "That was Keith, said he was on a job and needed help."

"Go on, we'll be all right here." John looked over at his son.

"I'll be back as soon as I can." He grabbed his jacket and left.

A doctor came into the room. "Family of Samuel Winchester?"

John woke Dean and they both stood. They followed the doctor down the quiet hall to a quiet room. Sam was curled under a blanket. An intravenous line ran into the back of his hand from medication that hung above him and a nasal cannula gave oxygen to him.

"What's wrong with him?" John kept his voice down.

"It probably started out as a simple case of the stomach flu. His weakened immune system wasn't able to fight off further infection and he has a mild case of pneumonia. He was also a little dehydrated when he was brought in." He paused. "He's going to be fine. I'd like to keep him overnight and see if we can get his temperature back to normal."

"Fine, anything."

"I'll let you stay with you son." He left the room.

John pulled a chair over and sat at Sam's bedside. Dean stood for a few minutes next to his father. Sam shifted in his sleep and almost woke. Dean climbed onto the bed and lay down next to his brother. He put an arm over Sam.

John's cell rang and he stepped towards a corner of the room. "Hello?"

He went back to his sons and rested his hand on Dean's shoulder. "That was Bobby. He needs my help."

Dean sat up. "We'll be okay. I'll watch him."

"I don't want to leave him."

"Bobby needs you. All Sammy's gonna do is sleep. I'll watch him."

John saw wisdom beyond Dean's fourteen years. "Okay. I can always count on you. I'll try not to be long."

He took one last glance at Sam, kissed the boy's fevered forehead and slipped out of the room. Dean lay back down with his arm over Sam. He stayed awake and kept watch over his brother.

Sam shifted and realized that someone's arm was around him. "Dean?"

Dean sat up and Sam turned to him. "What do you need?"

He looked around a little. "Hospital?"

"Yeah." Dean rested his hand on top of Sam's.

"Where's dad?"

"Helping Bobby. He'll be back soon."

Sam coughed a little. He sat up and half crawled into Dean's lap. Dean shifted him so he was more comfortable and Sam closed his eyes.

"Dean?" His hair was damp with sweat.

"Yeah, Sammy."

"I wanna go home."

Dean brushed his brother's hair back. "Maybe in the morning."

"'kay." He fell back asleep.

Dean sat with his brother in his lap and listened to Sam's breath wheeze a little in his lungs.

Sam shifted in some dream he was having and Dean tightened his grip on his brother. He struggled under his older brother's arms. Dean was careful of the lines going into his brother.

"Shhh, Sammy. You're okay." Dean brushed Sam's hair back.

Sam's eyes flew open. "No, let me go!"

"Sammy, it's just a bad dream. You're okay."

Dean could feel Sam's heartbeat, fast from fear, under his hand. He kept his arms around his brother, kept trying to wake him from the panic of the dream. Slowly Sam clamed down and relaxed.

"Dean." He whispered.

"Yeah, Sammy."

"Is dad okay?" He coughed a little.

Dean leaned over and met Sam's eyes. "He's fine."

"I dreamed he died." He paused. "You died too."

"That's not gonna happen, Sammy."


Dean smiled. "Never."

Sam shifted in his brother's arms. "Dean?"


"When's dad coming back?"

Dean ran his fingers Sam's hair. "Soon. Get some rest."

Sam's breathing slowed and Dean thought he had fallen back asleep.


Dean smiled to himself. "Yeah, Sam."

"I'm glad you're here." He then fell asleep.

Dean sat with his arms around his brother. He could already tell that Sam's fever had come down some and his breathing was a little easier.

John and Bobby came back towards dawn. Dean was still awake, with Sam still in his arms. He knew that it was the only way his little brother would sleep in the unfamiliar hospital bed. John met Dean's eyes when he came into the room and they smiled a little at each other.

"He okay?" John whispered as he sunk into a chair.

Dean nodded and glanced down at Sam.

Around noon the next day, Sam was released from the hospital. He could have stayed longer, but Dean and John couldn't stand to see him in that room almost as much as Sam hated to be there himself. He was given strict orders to bed-rest and fluids for the next few days and to come back in at any sign of a fever or if his cough worsened.

John and Bobby decided that it would be best if they all went to Bobby's, more people to look after Sam. John looked at his boys in the rearview mirror as he followed Bobby down the road. Sam was asleep, his head on Dean's shoulder. Dean was out as well, with his arm around his brother and his head resting on the top of Sam's. They'd all be okay because they all were together. No matter what happened, they had each other.