In the last eight years it seemed as if Sam had spent more time in a hospital waiting for news about his brother, about whether or not he would live, waiting to see if he would wake up, waiting for him to wake up, and waiting for the tight knot in his own stomach to dissipate.

Dean has spiraled down as they drove the hospital, he had bled quite a bit while they were in the fallout shelter, and he continued to bleed, and the adrenaline that Dean had used to fuel his need to find his brother had eased out and it had taken everything Sam had to keep his brother awake. Sam had just been reunited with his brother, mind, body, soul and hell experiences, and on a selfish level he needed his brother to help him through all of that, and on every other level that mattered, he just needed his brother by his side.

Sam knew that he had been a pain in the ass to the hospital staff as they tried to get him patched up from his latest round of pain. But the broken arm, torn ligaments, bruises, stiff muscles, and lost cap that he'd had put in when he'd been at Stanford, didn't stop him from asking the staff near to distraction for updates to his brother's condition, until finally one poor nurse looked him in the eye and said, "Sammy, I just had this conversation with your brother…"

"He's awake?"

"He's being taken for surgery and wouldn't let us put him under until we told him how you were."

"He's okay?"

"He's lost a lot of blood." She said touching his hair, pushing long hair from his face. "They are worried that he might have nicked his liver, he's in surgery." That was the last he had heard. They casted his arm, for the second time in ten years, and they sent him to the waiting room, where Bobby was already pacing a fairly nice hole in the carpet.

"You look like hell boy." Sam gave him sad and tired eyes and took a seat close to where Bobby was pacing.

"Why does he always do this?" Sam asked after a period of silence.

"Pardon?"

"Why does he always rush into things halfcocked and end up getting himself hurt? Why?"

"Oh come on boy, you know the answer." Bobby said as he finally took a seat next to the younger man. He needed to be strong for the younger hunter, Sam needed him, and when one of the boys needed him he felt as if he were the strongest man alive, he could do anything if the boys needed him. Bobby sometimes wondered if that was what it felt like to be a parent.

"To save me? To protect me? To what Bobby? I mean, it isn't like I've done him any favors. I just make everything worse. Every single time, and he gets hurt every single time. It has to stop. He needs to worry about himself."

Bobby chuckled and took a sip from the hot cup of horrible coffee that he had been holding for an hour, his face puckered at the cold cup of slop the coffee had turned into, put the cup down and turned to face Sam's inquiring eyes.

"He saw Eugene kidnap you." Sam's face turned into concern. "Saw your legs buckle from underneath you."

"Chloroform." Sam supplied.

"Dean ran as fast as he could towards you and the asshat, but he wasn't able to do anything before you were in the van and that van was peeling out of the parking lot. And all he kept yelling was 'he needs his meds, he needs his meds!'" Bobby ran a hand down his face. "He was in the Impala so fast that I barely realized he was taking off without me. Had to steal me a car to follow that fast as hell machine." Sam grinned a little.

"I think he's done something to it to make it fast because god knows it shouldn't move that fast."

Bobby nodded. "Well, we ended up back at my place because he lost the van, the boy beat himself up for it, kept abusing himself like that was going to make everything better."

"Dean always thinks everything is his fault. It's not. I trusted the guy, he said he needed help getting his groceries to the van, and I fell for it. I didn't know he was a hunter."

"I know boy."

"It's the same thing that made Dean make that deal in the first place." Sam's shoulders involuntarily tightened up. "If I'd just been able to see Jake for who he truly was…"

"Sam…"

"And then we can't forget how I trusted Ruby, and wow wee, look how that ended. If I wasn't so trusting…"

Bobby in a rare moment of physical contact put a hand on Sam's shoulder to stop his self-loathing rant. "But the fact that you are trusting, and that you always look for the good in everyone makes you who you are. And we wouldn't have you any other way." Bobby chuckled. "We've experienced what you are like without that trusting loveable nature, and trust me, I'd rather you be kidnapped for being trusting and helpful, than killing the guy outright because he looked at you cross eyed." Sam turned from Bobby; he couldn't look anyone in the eye when they recounted what he had been like without a soul. Dean had tried to tell him time and time again that it wasn't him, but it had been him, he had met soulless him when he was putting the pieces together, to reassemble his psyche, and he was a son of a bitch. But that son of a bitch was as much a part of him as his nose, eyes or fingers.

"Sam?" the nurse that had touched his hair and talked to him about Dean appeared in front of him.

"How's Dean?" Sam asked immediately.

"He came through surgery okay. He's going to be in some pain for a while, but he'll be okay. He's a lucky man."

"When can we see him?"

"In a little while, we want to get him settled into his room. I'll come out and get you as soon as you can see him. I promise."

Sam blinked the worried tears out of his eyes and nodded. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"He'll be okay Sam. He'll mend." Bobby reassured when he noted the fear in Sam's eyes. Sam nodded. Dean WILL be fine. Sam tried to reassure himself, and just like always, it didn't work.