My Brother's Tears chapter 6

One day.
So much has happened in that one. So much that Sam couldn't keep it all straight. He remembered what happened at first. What started the other chain of events. Sam had been sitting next to Dean has he vomited for the third time that night. It had gotten worse. He wasn't eating, drinking, or taking the medicine Sam tried to force down his throat. It didn't make sense because when Dean had woken up from passing out, he had somewhat felt better. Why he took the sudden turn for the worse, Sam wasn't sure.

"Mr. Donald?"

Sam looked up from the chair he was sitting in and the laptop screen he was looking at. "Yes?"

"Can you come this way with me?" The man asked. "What happened to your wrist?"

"I broke it running through the woods." That's the general idea of what happened. Minus the woods part, Sam thought shutting the laptop and stuffed it into his laptop bag. He shouldered the bag and followed the man. "How is he?"

"Stable," the doctor said, later Sam learned his name was Dr. Trump.

"Do you care to elaborate?" Sam tried to pressure the doctor into spilling.

"I will in a moment," Trump walked into his office and held the door open for Sam. Sam nodded and stood in the center of the room not sure where to sit. "Take a seat," Trump gestured to the chair across from the desk.

The desk had papers, books, binders, and wrappers covering it. There was a computer wedged in the corner. "I want to know what is wrong with my brother."

"He is stable right now. Only problem he has pneumonia. You should have brought him to the hospital two days ago."

"I know, I was stupid and didn't. I thought I could take care of it myself."

"I hope you see now that you couldn't."

"No, I couldn't," Sam sighed, frustrated with himself and the doctor.

"Could you tell me what happened?" Trump leaned back in his chair, placing his elbows on the arm rest, and his finger tips on top of each other.

"Well… Dean started to get worse after he woke up yesterday…"

XxXxXx

Last night

"I toldja you should have eaten," Sam was kneeling next to his brother who was by the toilet vomiting for the third time that night. Sam wouldn't think anything of it but Dean hadn't eaten anything in while. His body wouldn't have anything to get rid of.

"Shuddup Sammy," Dean groaned, his head on the seat. "You aren't helping me here."

"I'm just sayin'," Sam countered.

Dean's response was throwing up again into the toilet. Sam wrinkled his nose and leaned back not wanting to smell or see any of it. Dean groaned again and Sam's response was to rub his back muttering to him.

After a couple minutes of silence, Sam looked to see Dean had fallen asleep with his head on the toilet seat. Flushing the toilet, Sam shook his brother's shoulder trying to arouse him from his sleep. "Dean, c'mon, I can't carry you, you gotta wake up."

Slowly, Dean started to stir. "Mmm S'mmy, I don't feel so good…"

"It's alright, c'mon, I'll get you into bed. You'll feel better then." Sam grabbed both of Dean's shoulders, lifting him off the toilet. "Can you stand up?"

It was a clear struggle, but Dean was able to stand up with the help of his brother. Heavily supporting Dean's weight, Sam helped Dean to his bed. Despite having five layers of blankets, a sweatshirt, a long sleeve shirt, and Sam's thick coat on, Dean was still shivering. It was obvious his fever was high. No matter what Sam gave him, he just threw it right back up. There was no winning this battle.

At five in the morning, Sam woke up to hear Dean coughing in his sleep. He wasn't sure if it was just a cough or if Dean was about to get sick again. Not sure what to do, Sam sat up and listened. It sounded like he was just coughing in his sleep. About to fall back asleep, he glanced over at Dean. That's when he noticed Dean had something dark and shiny on his face.
Darting off the bed, Sam kneeled beside Dean. It was becoming a reoccurring thing for Sam; kneeling besides his brother. He'd done it at least ten times since Dean became sick, probably more. Despite the late morning hour, the moon was still out and shining through the curtains onto Dean's face making it easier to see his face. Sam rubbed his finger over Dean's chin and lifted his fingers into the moon light.

"Crap."

On his fingers and Deans mouth was blood. Dean must've been coughing up blood in the night. Dean really was coughing up something while Sam slept on. It made Sam feel awful for not knowing his brother was in a lot of pain and seriously ill.

"Dean, Dean," Sam shook Dean's shoulder again trying to arouse him for the fourth time tonight.

"Wha?" Dean halfway opened his eyes trying to focus on Sam.

"You need to go to the doctor now Dean. No agreements," Sam pulled his boots onto his feet and fetched Dean's placing them right in front of Dean.

"Why?" Dean rubbed his chin. "Blood?"

"Yeah, you were coughing it up in your sleep, c'mon Dean, we gotta go," Sam lifted Dean up which only caused him pain in his wrist. Dean was moving sluggishly and coughing during the whole process. It was starting to frustrate Sam because they needed to move faster than the pace they were moving at now.

Finally ready, Sam lifted Dean up and supported the majority of his weight again. Grabbing a bag and the keys, Sam helped Dean out of the Impala. Once Dean was sitting in the passenger seat, Sam went to the other side, got in, and started the car up.

XxXxXx

"I then brought Dean into the ER. We had to wait for several hours before Dean was called back. Now, here I am talking to you." Sam summed up for Trump.

Trump had stayed silent throughout the whole story. He nodded or made a 'hmmm' sound here or there. It was obvious he was taking in everything Sam was saying and trying to figure out the extent of Dean's pneumonia. "The coughing up blood was coming from blood in his sputum."

Sam nodded trying to absorb the information. "What about the vomiting?"

"Vomiting was from the pneumonia. There's nothing to do to stop anything but pump anitbotics and fluids into his body." Trump leaned forward. "If this ever happens again, you'll know to come to the hospital the first time someone coughs up blood."

"Yessir," Sam muttered. "Can I see my brother now."

"Yes, he's in room 110. He's right down the hall from here." Trump picked up a couple papers and obvious sign that Sam was suppose to leave.

"Thanks," Sam muttered, standing up, and leaving Trump to his papers.