Disclaimer: I own nothing that has anything to do with Supernatural or the characters, unless you count the DVDs. This is just for fun.

Second part of this fic.

Enjoy!


But his plan was not well thought out, the nurses checked on patients every fifteen minutes, and barely seconds after he had done it, a nurse rushed in.

"Oh mercy," The nurse murmured, she pressed the call button, before going to Sam, and taking his weight, easing the pressure to his airway. "I need help in here!"

Staff rushed into the room, Sam was hastily cut down, and laid on a gurney. He wasn't breathing, so they were using an ambu-bag to force air into his lungs.


They rushed him downstairs to the emergency department, as was procedure, he wasn't the first to attempt suicide on the unit; they always found a way.

The team in the ER were waiting at the ready for Sam's arrival. Dr Simons, whom had treated Sam when he was first admitted to the hospital, was the treating physician.

"This the suicide?" One of the male nurses, Travis asked as Sam was wheeled into the room.

"Sam Winchester. He was found hanging from a noose, maybe ten minutes ago, not breathing, but he's got a steady pulse."

"Okay folks, we'll take it from here," Dr Simons said as he moved forward to assess Sam's condition. He remembered Sam coming into the emergency department five months earlier, it had been memorable to say the least.


Flashback

Sam was brought into the emergency department by the police, who at that time believed Sam was drunk, but they'd found his wallet by the roadside, and they were required to take anyone underage who was under the effect of drugs or alcohol, they had no idea how deep the issue ran.

On the way over Sam had nearly kicked the back windscreen out of the patrol car, and the officers brought him in wearing handcuffs, carrying him as he kicked out and screamed at anyone and everyone.

"Doc, we're gonna need some muscle for this one!" One of the officers called out as they carried Sam through the rapidly parting crowd.

Dr Simons called over four security guards, and it took all seven of them and several nurses to get Sam onto a gurney and into restraints.

Through his assessment of the seventeen year old, Sam never stopped screamed and swearing at the physician.


Present time

"Has his family been called?"

One of the psychiatric nurses who'd brought Sam downstairs nodded, sombrely answering, "His dad and brother are on their way in. They're a very close family, this is going to hit them hard."

They moved on to treating Sam, who while his attempt to take his life had failed, was still severely injured by his attempt. Sam's airway had been crushed, and Dr Simons had to intubate him, and place Sam on a ventilator to allow his battered body to heal.


John and Dean Winchester had been at the local fast food joint having dinner when the call came in. Sam's been hurt, go to the emergency department; that was all that the nurse would tell them over the phone.


"HE WHAT!?!" Those were the first words out of John and Dean's mouths, it was almost simultaneous. They had been taken into a quiet room in the emergency department upon arrive their arrival to the hospital.

Neither could fathom that Sam could have attempted suicide, or even more so that he had tried just hours after they had left him.

Sam spent two weeks in the intensive care unit, eleven days of that on the ventilator, before he was moved back to the psychiatric unit.

It would take them months to process what had happened, and neither would ever forgive themselves.


The next four years blurred together, Sam was in and out of the psychiatric hospital, John went back to hunting, and Dean was left to keep things together.

It was a time Dean wished he could forget.

John killed the demon that had been responsible for Mary's death, but he had been seriously injured in the process, and died in the hospital.

After his father's death, Dean went off the rails for some time, Sam was under involuntary admission when it happened, too caught in his head to process the fact that his father had been killed.

Dean went back to hunting, he got reckless, nearly got himself killed over a dozen times in the year he was gone, he only came back because Sam was getting out, and he knew that Sam couldn't live alone.

Who knows what he would've done if left to his own devices?


It came to a head one afternoon. Just when Dean thought that there was nothing Sam could do that would surprise him, Dean came back from getting groceries, to find a brand new red Chevrolet Corvette parked on the lawn.

The first thought that went through Dean's mind was, Damn it, Sammy, damn it.

Dean had no doubt that this was Sam's doing, in that moment he knew that Sam had stopped taking his meds, and most likely he was going into another mania.

Sighing, Dean pulled the impala up onto the lawn, and headed inside to face his brother, unsure of what he was going to find beyond that door.


The house had been ransacked, and amongst the mess was Sam, dressed in new, clearly expensive clothes, sifting through the mess.

"Sam... stop."

Sam looked up to his brother.

"What're you doing dude?"

"I'm looking for my licence! Where the hell'd you hide it?!" Sam instantly snapped at his brother without provocation.

It still hurt Dean deeply to have Sam so angry at him, and it only made it worse knowing that he couldn't do anything about it, short of force feed Sam his medications. It wasn't the first time Sam had said something strange or puzzling, but yet Dean found himself sighing as he reminded Sam, "You don't have a drivers licence, Sam."

"I DO! YOU TOOK IT YOU FUCKING BASTARD!!! GIVE IT BACK OR I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!!!"

Not for the first time Dean just tries to walk away, struggling to handle his brother's suddenly outburst. But once again Sam physically pulled him back, he threw him to the floor, and instead of showing any regret for hurting his brother, Sam just kept screaming.


Finally after two and a half hours, Dean managed to calm Sam down, and even then Sam was bouncing off the wall, but at least he wasn't screaming.

Sam's latest plan, and seemingly his logic behind buying a car well beyond their means and tearing apart the house was yet another delusion. This time it was the belief that he was an actor, a famous actor with a stellar career.

"I have an audition tomorrow, Dean! Don't you understand how important this is to my career?!" He said it with such frustration and belief of logic, it broke Dean's heart to bring him back to reality.

"You're not an actor, Sammy. You don't have a job. You need to calm down." Dean was exhausted, and he couldn't keep his temper in check, he knew it wasn't Sam's fault, but it was wearing him down.

"It's such a great part! Why don't you understand..." Sam was rambling, his speech getting faster with every word, but his words were nothing compared to how fast his mind was going.

Dean just sat there, and he listened to his brother's disordered thoughts.


Eventually after hours something inside Dean finally snapped, after years of pain and abuse, suffering on both their parts, he snapped. "Damn it, Sam! Just shut up!"

Sam was actually silenced, Dean had honestly not expected that to work. It brought him down to earth. "Dean?"

"Sam. You back?"

Looking around the house, at the disaster area, Sam regretfully asked Dean, "What happened this time, Dean?"

"You thought you were an actor."

"I'm sorry, Dean."

"You're not, you think you are, but you're not. This will happen again, it always happens again, and if you we really sorry, you'd take your goddamned pills!"

Sam huffed, firmly telling Dean, "I told you, Dean, I don't need them, I can't think when I take them."

"It's the disorder, Sam. Please, please just take the pills, I can't keep don't this."

"I said I don't want them, Dean! Leave me alone!"

"Please, Sam, please don't do this again, I can't do this again."

Reluctantly Sam took the pills from Dean's hand, and put them on his tongue as he picked up the glass of water that Dean had put on the table, and with a drink of water, he swallowed the hated medications.

"Let me see," Dean said insistently. It wasn't that he didn't trust his brother, but he didn't trust his brother.

Sam opened his mouth for Dean to inspect, giving in to the fact that his brother wasn't going to let him continue doing as he pleased.


That incident was the last straw for Dean, the next day he put the house up for sale, and he and Sam hit the road. Dean forced Sam to take his meds in front of him every morning and night, Dean loved his brother, but he knew that he couldn't trust him to take the meds voluntarily.

The first year or so, Dean would set up shop in a motel, and leave Sam there while he went on hunts, but as Sam adjusted more to his condition, and the reality he faced, he decided that he wanted to go back to hunting.

And after some debate, Dean let Sam join him on hunts again.

They didn't have an easy life, heaven and hell were literally against them, but they were brothers, they were in it together, and they made it work.


The End.

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