Spoilers: Set in Season Two, "In my time of Dying". No real spoilers unless you haven't seen that episode. I changed a few things around as well, so I hope it doesn't irritate anyone.

A/N: Hello, lovelies! I haven't posted in a while, been so busy with school! Never been real good with deadlines, and so all the ones I set for myself to post a story, I forget or push , it's my first post in a while, not that I posted a lot before, mind you. I just had a horrible week and this came pouring out in about two or so hours. It's fairly short. That being said, this is completely unedited. Also, it's four in the morning, so mistakes are practically guaranteed. I apologize, and hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Dedicated to the wonderful Candygal1, whose praise and encouragement is irreplaceable, and to the amazing DiTab1, who's supportive and helpful despite my laziness and cluelessness. I adore you both, and I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. If I had, Bela would have survived and Gordon would have been castrated and disemboweled, then beheaded. :)

Helpless to Save You, Unable to Lose You

Sam sat, staring blankly ahead at the bleak, white walls of the hospital room. The off-white, painfully clean walls weren't anything new; staring at it almost made him believe he was somewhere else, in another time where all that was wrong was a broken arm and a few bruises. They would leave soon, a little worse for wear, but nothing that couldn't be healed. Everything was fine, and so long as he didn't look away, it would be true.

'Liar.'A voice whispered softly in his head. 'You know that's not true. You can feel it, and if you so much as glance down, you'd see it too.'

'Shut up!' Sam swallowed hard, willing the voice away. It was right though. He knew something was wrong. No matter what he tried to tell himself, he could feel it. It was that hole in his heart, that sickness in his stomach. It was in the beep of the machine, and the tears in his eyes. It was his big brother, lying there, still and quiet and broken.

Sam shut his eyes tightly against the rush of despair he got when he thought of what had happened. They had all been tired and hurt, rushing to the hospital, when a demon plowed into them. He never even saw it coming, just saw a flash of lights a millisecond before hearing the terrible screech of metal on metal and being thrown into a world of pain. He blacked out, and when he came to, he was on a stretcher, with EMTs trying to calm him down as he screamed out for Dean and his dad. He was miraculously okay, save for a few cuts and bruises. His dad was a little worse, but he'd recover. Dean though….

He cut off that thought before it could even fully form. 'No'. He thought fiercely. 'Dean would be okay.' He had to be. How would Sam go on without him?

Sam was jolted from his thoughts by a sound that would haunt him for the rest of his life. Dean's machines began to beep erratically, his heartbeats beginning to falter. Sam went white; he jumped to his feet, the bedside chair skidding backwards. 'No. No, no, no, nononono…'

"NO!" He turned towards the door, his own heart skipping a few beats. "Help! Help!"

He was shoved out of the way by nurses and doctors, all who rushed towards his brother and began to work frantically. Sam heard the blood pounding in his ears, felt his heart beating in his throat. He has never felt so helpless in his entire twenty-two years of life than when he stood there, watching his brother slowly slipping away as they tried to shock his heart back to life. He wanted desperately to be able to fix his brother, to make it okay again so they could just leave and forget all about this. What could he do though? How could he save his big brother, his best friend? How could he not try to? He couldn't let him go; he wouldn't.

The relief he felt when his brother was finally stabilized literally brought him to his knees. He gave his dad a quick update after reassuring himself that his brother was truly okay. He practically ran back to his brother's room, desperate to make sure his brother didn't simply disappear. He refused to leave his post by his brother's bed, even convincing a young nurse to allow him to stay beyond visiting hours. His heart clenched painfully as he thought about how Dean would have winked and teased him about the nurse probably having a crush on him.

Sam glanced down at his battered brother and promised himself they'd save Dean if they had to move heaven and hell to do it.

"It'll be okay" He whispered aloud, slipping his hand into his brother's limp one. He wasn't quite sure who he was trying to reassure more, Dean or himself. "It'll all be okay." He couldn't go on if it wasn't.

I hope you guys liked it! I'm toying with the idea of adding a second chapter of Dean feeling helpless to help Sam, maybe during his detox. Let me know what you think, and thank you for reading!