Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, or the characters.

Here's a new fic for you all! It's a death fic, and that's all I'm going to say.


John returns to his eldest son's hospital room after yet another coffee run. When he enters the room, John still has to fight back nausea at the sight of Dean's sickly, rapidly fading self lying in the bed, on life-support.

Upon hearing another voice in the room, John's attention is quickly turned away from Dean, and he sees one of the nurses speaking on a cell phone, on Dean's cell phone. "What're you doing?" He demands angrily.

The nurse turns around on her heels, startled. After quickly ending the call, she looks up at John. "I'm sorry, Mr Winchester. Dean's phone rang while you were out of the room ...maybe you should have a seat?"

John stays standing where he is, and says. "I'm fine here. What's going on?"

"Um... I really think you should sit down."

John reluctantly sits down in a chair in the corner of the room. "Okay, I'm sitting down. What's going on?"

The nurse takes a nervous step closer to John as she says. "The phone call was from Stanford University Hospital. Dean's brother, Samuel was admitted there last night, he has been seriously injured. You need to go there." She finishes secretively, clearly having been told more than she is saying.

John scrubs his hand over his face, and then looks over at Dean. "But I can't leave, Dean needs me here. Besides, Sam isn't a part of our family anymore." He still hasn't forgiven Sam for walking out on them three years earlier, and surely Sam can't expect that they would come running, especially if he knew how sick his brother currently is.

"I know you're worried about not being here if Dean dies, but you really do need to go." The nurse says empathetically.

John can't help but be concerned at the tone in her voice, now more like a worried parent, he asks. "What's wrong with Sam? Is he alright?"

"You just really need to go there, quickly." The nurse tells him, being slightly evasive.

Looking back over at Dean, John sighs.

Within several minutes John says goodbye to Dean, who is still sleeping, unaware of the drama unfolding around him, and leaves for the airport.

It is almost six hours before John arrives at Stanford University Hospital, and when he does, he goes straight over to the reception desk, struggling to remain somewhat calm. "My son was admitted here, can you tell me where he is?" He asks the receptionist, ignoring the angry looks he is receiving from everyone in the queue.

"What is your son's name, sir?" The receptionist enquires gently.

"Sam, Samuel Winchester." John replies tiredly, leaning against the desk.

The reception looks down at her computer, and quickly types in Sam's name. A moment later she looks up at John with pity in her eyes. "He is in the intensive care unit, bed six. If you go to the reception they will be able to help you."

Without wasting any time with pleasantries, John strides away towards the elevators.

Upon reaching the ICU, John is told that the doctor is examining Sam, so John will need to go to the waiting room, for a change, John doesn't push the matter.

When he enters the waiting room, John sees a pretty young blonde sitting near the door, crying softly, she looks up, and a look of surprise crosses her face before she greets him. "You're Sam's dad, right?"

"Yeah." John says uncertainly, wondering who she is.

The woman pats the seat beside her, offering it to John as she says. "I've seen pictures of you at Sam's place. I'm his girlfriend, Jessica."

John sits down beside her, and seeking answers as to whether his son is alright, from whoever can give them. "What happened to Sam? Is he alright?"

"He, ah..." Jess begins, not quite sure what to say, she ends up telling him the story from the start. "We were walking home from dinner, we saw a kid getting beaten up by a gang. I tried to get him to just walk away, but Sam went straight over there, started pulling these guys off the kid. They left the kid alone, but... t-they..." Jess stammers slightly. "They came after Sam ...they threw him off the bridge, there was nothing I could do. He was just lying there. When I got down to him, he was conscious ...he kept asking for Dean."

"Is he going to be aright? Do you know?"

Jess shakes her head sadly as she tells him. "The doctors say his neck's broken, and he's got severe head injuries. They're running tests." Before John can respond, Jess leans closer to him, and starts crying even harder against his shoulder.

John just wraps his arm around Jess, and whispers to her soothingly, while holding off his own tears.

This is how the doctor finds them almost half an hour later. He comes over to them, and sits down in a chair nearby. "Jessica, Mr Winchester?"

They both look up with tear stained eyes, Jessica greets the doctor. "Dr Phelps, how is he?"

"Stable." He answers simply before turning more to face John. "Mr Winchester, you're Sam's father?"

"Yes. And you can call me John." John tells Dr Phelps.

The doctor then asks John. "Sam gave us a phone number for ...Dean before he had to be intubated. When I called the number, a nurse answered, she said that your older son is being treated at Michigan University Hospital for severe heart failure. Is that-"

"Yes. Dean got sick just over a year ago, for a while the medications did their job, but then he suddenly got a lot worse a couple of weeks ago. He's stage one A on the transplant list, but he's got a rare blood type, AB+, his doctors don't think he'll make it much longer without a new heart." John tells the doctor, trying not to think about the possibility that he could lose both his sons.

Dr Phelps looks down at the file he is holding, and flicks through it before looking back up at the two distressed people in front of him.

Before he can share his thoughts, Jess asks him. "What did the test show? Is Sam going to be alright?"

He sighs before telling them. "No, I he isn't. I'm so sorry Jessica, John. Sam is brain dead; his heart is beating, but his brain is gone."


Thanks for reading!

Please take a moment to review, and let me know what you think.