Until the End | A Supernatural~Destiel Fic

Chapter 6

Dean had been in the hospital for eight days. Doctors were filing in and out hour after wretched hour, but Dean was not responding to anything.

Sam remained in an old recliner in the corner of the room, silent. He hadn't left the room except to get clothes from the bunker and to use the bathroom.

He's spent the last few days either reading or researching, looking for someone to help.

He had nearly given up hope when the doctor told him that the machines were the only reason Dean was alive, and that it would be best to gather his things, go home and get some rest, and come prepared for when they unplug him tomorrow.

Sam was unresponsive, which the doctor respected, and silently exited the room, leaving Sam alone with his thoughts. Sam silently connected the dots as he glanced at Dean, his brother, his friend, his reason for getting out of bed every day.

It wasn't supposed to be this way, he thought. This is all my fault.

~

Sam made his way back to the bunker, along with his things and a vase of flowers a nurse had given him, seeing as no one else came by to visit.

He made himself a grilled cheese, Dean's second favorite, but didn't eat it. Instead he pinched the bridge of his nose and bowed his head into his knees, his arms supporting the heavy weight that the thoughts in his mind produced.

He fell asleep with his head on the table. He woke up around 9:00 in the morning with a crick in his neck and a heavy weight on his heart.

He showered, dressed in a suit, and practiced his goodbye speech, having to stop several times to hold back tears.

He dragged himself into the Impala and made his way to the hospital. Nothing could have prepared him for what happened next.

~

"Mr. Winchester! Come quick!" A nurse shouted from down the hallway, having spotted Sam.

Sam escalated into a full sprint, anxious as to what the nurse was mentioning. His heartbeat increased as they approached Dean's room number.

When Sam entered the room, he stopped. His mouth hung open for a few seconds before he collapsed to his knees.

Tears pooled out from his eyes without his permission and escaped down his face and echoed off the cold tile of the hospital room floor.

He gazed on at what sat before him, unable to accept the trickery his mind was displaying through his eyes.

Before he could think another thought, he was picked up under the arms, his weight supported, and was enveloped into a hug.

Tears stained both shirts, still continuing to fall.

The voice Sam heard rang in his ears, assuring him that this was no trick. The truth was holding a gun to his head and the voice that echoed into the recesses of his mind pulled the trigger.

"Hey, Sammy." Dean said.

~

Sam was at a loss for words. He was extremely happy, and extremely shocked, but most of all, he was confused.

Dean had experienced major internal injuries, with almost no chance of recovery. But looking at him now, he hardly had a scratch on him, and the doctor said that every internal injury had miraculously healed itself overnight...Dean could go home.

When Sam finally mustered together enough courage to speak, in fear of ruining this moment, all he could get out was, "What the hell?"

Dean let out a small chuckle, but didn't reply. Rather he savored the sound of his brother's voice; he thought he would never hear it again.

So Sam continued, "Dean, you were...you were d-dead. You weren't going to wake up. I was supposed to say g-goodbye today. What-what happened?"

"Jeez, Sammy. Just came back from the dead and all I get is a 'How'd ya do it, Houdini?'" Dean commented jokingly.

Sam noticed this and immediately brought his brother into his arms again.

"I missed you, Dean," Sam said, silent tears staining Dean's shirt.

"I missed you too, Sammy."

Sam grabbed Dean's shirt tighter between his fist and cried a little harder.

Dean closed his eyes and said, "It's okay, Sam. I'm not going anywhere. Can't get rid of me that easy," Dean said, trying to lift the spirit in the room.

He was alive, after all. He deserved to be happy.

"So, Doc. How'd I do it?" Dean questioned towards the doctor after he separated from Sam and patted him on the back.

"I'm honestly just as curious you are," the doctor responded. "I have your X-Rays from not but two nights ago, and nearly every major artery or organ in your body suffered from internal bleeding and bruising. There is no way you should have survived. Excuse my pessimism, but I know recovery when I see it, and there is no explainable way as to how you recovered completely in such a short period of time."

Dean and Sam shared similar expressions on their face. Although Sam's was exerted more through confusion, Dean's displayed more pride for this major feat.

"But no matter how baffled this leaves me," the doctor continued, "I believe you are now healthy enough to be discharged. If only all of my patients were as lucky as you, Mr. Winchester. You must have a guardian angel upstairs keeping a close eye on you." And with that he was gone.

Sam immediately looked over at Dean, guilt and sorrow overwhelming him. "Dean..." he started.

"Don't. It's fine. I'm fine. Let's just...go."

Sam and Dean made their way out to the Impala, Dean climbing into the passenger seat. His face looked just as cold and empty as it did than when he was nearly pronounced dead no more than 15 minutes ago.