Disclaimer: Supernatural does not belong to us.

Author's Note: This story is being co-written with LadyWallace. Neither of us are doctors, so please excuse the medical inaccuracies.

This chapter was written by LadyWallace.

Chapter Two

Dean couldn't believe he had made such a rookie mistake as to be thrown over a cliff by a werewolf. Dad would have had his hide for that. If he were there. Dean was partly glad he wasn't. He would never have wanted his father to see him like this: bum legs from a fall on a simple hunt. He couldn't stand to think of the knowing disappointment that would be in John's eyes if he saw his son in this situation. He should be shot like a lame horse for as much good as he would do now.

And Sam…the kid was holding it together, and he wasn't doing a terrible job of it, but Dean knew he was panicking on the inside. He could feel him trembling as he held Dean's head between his hands to keep him still, like that was going to make any difference now. It made Dean feel even worse to know that Sammy was holding everything back for his sake. He wasn't supposed to have to be the strong one, that was Dean's job and now he had botched it by one slipup. And if Sam thought he was going to get into a flying deathtrap, then he had another think coming.

"How much longer?" Sam asked the Ranger, Hawkes, in a wavering voice.

"Not long now," than man replied kindly, where he was crouching next to the brothers. He had recently given them pocket warmers to help stave off the cold air, which he had tucked around Dean's body and into Sam's pockets. Despite that, Dean felt cold all over again at the thought of flying. He must have given some indication of his discomfort because Sam's fingers tightened sympathetically against his cheeks.

"Dean you know there's no other way off this mountain," he said gently. "You're going to have to let them take you in the helicopter."

"No way, Sam," Dean ground out. "No way. I'm not going up in one of those things. I flew that once, but never again."

"I'm not going to leave you alone, Dean, I'll be right there," Sam assured him, pleading. Dean closed his eyes, so he wouldn't have to see the pain in his little brother's. "You know you have to do it."

"You may as well just leave me here to die," Dean ground out bitterly. "I'm no good anymore, Sam. I'm all Humpty-Dumptied and you'd do better to shoot me now and save yourself the trouble of putting me back together."

"Dean, no!" Sam shouted, his voice breaking with anger and a thousand other emotions. "Don't you dare, I am getting you off this mountain if I have to carry you myself!"

Ranger Hawkes watched the brothers with sympathy in his eyes, he reached out and put a kind hand on Sam's shoulder. "If I may, Sam, Dean, there's really nothing to worry about until you know more about your condition. There's no reason to think the worse until the doctors take a better look at you. You could have just damaged a nerve in your back, or the paralysis could just be temporary from swelling."

"Or I could have busted my spine," Dean growled and Sam ran an agitated hand though his hair in an attempt to soothe his brother. "Look pal, I know you're trying to help, but Winchesters don't get the easy way out. We don't have that kind of luck."

"Dean, stop," Sam pleaded softly, a shaking, frozen hand, pressing against his brother's shoulder. "Just calm down, you need to rest."

Ranger Hawkes watched the two young men with an ache forming in his chest. He had made many rescues in his time as a Ranger, and some a lot worse than this—sometimes bodies were all he found—but he knew he would remember the Winchester brothers for a long time afterward. He prayed that they would get a miracle this time, if they were so lacking in them.

The light of dawn was coming over the horizon and it was not long before the helicopter was heard in the distance. The other Rangers who had stayed up on the cliff top, called down to Hawkes that they could see it.

"It's almost here," Hawkes assured the brothers. "It won't be long before you're safe in the hospital, Dean."

"Sammy, please," Dean tried to plead one last time. "Don't let them put me in that thing."

"Dean, I'm not risking you hurting yourself more, this is the only way to get you out of here apart from carrying you through the woods and uneven terrain," Sam pleaded with him.

"You can't make me get on it," Dean said, knowing he sounded childish, but the thought of being in a helicopter, especially when he was so vulnerable, made him want to throw up, or worse, cry, and that was not like him and he didn't like it.

"Yeah, actually, I can," Sam told him, an edge to his voice. "Not like you're going anywhere."

"That's cold," Dean told him half-heartedly, knowing he was right.

"Sorry," Sam said, regretting the harsh tone of his voice.

"It will be alright, Dean," Ranger Hawkes told the young man as reassuringly as possible. "These guys are really good at what they do, and I promise they've never had an accident, even in poor weather conditions."

"That just means they're due," Dean grunted. "There's gotta be another way."

"I'm afraid your brother's right, Dean, this is the safest and quickest way to get you out of here, and the quicker we get you to a hospital, the better chance you have of full recovery."

Dean was silent, swallowing hard as they could hear the helicopter landing in a clear space on top of the cliff. Soon there were voices shouting to each other and before long, several paramedics came to the side of the cliff and called down to Ranger Hawkes who explained the situation. They had on ropes and harnesses and landed around the small party below with the equipment they would need to get Dean back up.

A middle-aged woman knelt beside Sam and introduced herself with a smile.

"I'm Kathy. We're going to get you boys out of here."

"This is Sam and Dean," Hawkes told her, indicating the brothers in turn.

"Alright, Dean," Kathy told the elder, peeling back his blankets for a minute to run her hands over him in a quick inspection. "We're going to put you on the backboard so you won't move and hurt yourself, okay?"

"I'm not flying," Dean told her firmly as two other paramedics came over with the backboard and Sam reluctantly gave his position at his brother's head to Kathy, watching tensely as two men got on either side of Dean.

"That's the only way you'll get out of here, sweetie," Kathy told him kindly as she motioned to the others, who knelt close to Dean and steadied him with their hands. She counted and they rolled him slightly to one side on three while one of the men put the backboard under him before rolling him back. Dean gritted his teeth in pain at the jostling, and tried one more time as Kathy fixed a neck brace onto him and the others worked on strapping him down tightly.

"I really don't like flying," he told her.

"It will be over before you know it," Kathy assured him, glancing up questioningly at Sam.

"He just has a phobia of heights," Sam provided quietly. "He's had…bad experiences flying that didn't help it any."

"Well, Dean, it's the least of your worries right now. We've got to get you taken care of as soon as possible, and the quickest way to do that is to take the chopper."

Sam was extremely thankful for Kathy's firm handling of the situation. Something he couldn't apply right now.

"Come on, Dean," Sam said quietly. "For me, please."

Dean looked up at him then closed his eyes. "Fine, Sammy."

Sam was instantly relieved that at least Dean had acquiesced to that. Ropes were tied to the stretcher he was strapped to and soon Dean was lifted back up to the top of the cliff. Ranger Hawkes gave Sam a rope and harness and he climbed back up to see Dean loaded into the helicopter.

"We're ready to go," Kathy said, as they got ready to close up the chopper.

"Hold on," Dean protested. "I ain't going anywhere without Sam. If he's not going, I'm not."

"There's no more room," one of the paramedics told him.

"Please," Sam called, as he realized what was happening, panic settling in his chest at the thought of being separated from Dean now and how his older brother would be alone to deal with probably one of the only things that scared him in the state he was already in. "Please let me stay with my brother, he's afraid of flying. I'm afraid he'll hurt himself if I'm not there."

"Can't one of you hop out for the kid?" Ranger Hawkes asked, coming to the brothers' aid.

Kathy motioned to one of the other paramedics. "Go, Frank. We'll get you later." The man got out and Sam climbed in before they could change their mind again. Dean visibly relaxed when he saw his brother.

"Sammy," he whispered, seeming weaker now. "My Baby."

Sam wanted to roll his eyes, but he knew that Dean wouldn't relax until he knew his car was taken care of. The only two things in the world Dean cared about were his car and his brother. He gently reached under Dean's blankets to retrieve the keys from his jacket pocket. He quickly handed them to Ranger Hawkes.

"Our car's parked at the trail entrance; black '67 Impala, if you could take care of it…"

"I'll drive it to the hospital for you," Hawkes assured him, taking the keys. "Take care of your brother, Sam."

The helicopter doors were closed after those words and Sam was left sitting there at Dean's head, reflecting on them. The same words John had told Dean over and over again, drilling into his head. Look after your brother, Dean. But now, it was Sam's turn to look after Dean. And he was going to need a lot of looking after.

"We're ready," Kathy called to the pilot, and Sam settled more firmly into his seat as he reached out and fumbled under Dean's blankets until he found his hand, which he squeezed reassuringly, his other hand resting on top of Dean's head. The elder Winchester's eyes were closed and he was breathing raggedly. Kathy saw this and fixed an oxygen mask over his face to help even his breathing. It seemed to help calm Dean a bit, but the pressure of his fingers around Sam's especially when the helicopter made a turn, let Sam know he was still far from okay, and certainly not unconscious. That was a good thing, considering he might have a concussion, but at the same time, Sam wished his brother could be sedated so he wouldn't have to deal with this. Remembering the last plane trip they had taken, which had almost crashed due to the phantom traveler, Sam leaned closer to Dean's ear and started humming Metallica. Dean's eyes cracked open in surprise, as Sam self-consciously continued his off-tune humming, and if it didn't exactly calm Dean down, the thought that Sam hoped it would made him feel a little bit better.

"Only a couple more minutes," Kathy assured the brothers.

When they landed at the hospital, Dean breathed an obvious sigh of relief and Sam reluctantly left his side so the paramedics could get him out and onto a gurney that several of the hospital staff ran up with. Sam hopped out of the helicopter and followed them inside, unsure of what to do when he was accosted by a nurse.

"I'll show you to the waiting room," she said.

"Could I stay with my brother?" Sam asked, worried that Dean might freak out if he wasn't there. He hated hospitals, always had, but since last time he was in one, he had been hounded by a reaper, and their father had died, he was even less friendly to them than he had been before.

"You can see him as soon as the doctor finishes his examination," the nurse told him kindly. "You'll just get in the way."

Sam ran a shaking hand through his hair. "Okay, but if he needs me, will you let me go?"

The nurse nodded, likely just to appease him, and showed him to the ER waiting room and handed him a clipboard with paperwork on it. "If you could fill this out for me, I'm sorry to have to ask it of you now, but it needs to be done."

Sam nodded numbly and took the clipboard, but could only get so far as to write Dean's name before he couldn't find the strength to move the pen any further. His hands shook, and his stomach roiled. Shock was setting in, finally, now that he was alone, and he didn't have to be strong for Dean. He bolted upright, and the nurse at the front desk asked him if he was okay, but he ignored her and sprinted for the bathroom down the hall. He barely made it before his stomach decided to empty itself and collapsed at the nearest toilet and threw up. He gasped for breath when there was nothing left in his stomach and tears streamed down his face.

"It's okay, it's okay, it might not be that bad," he whispered to himself. "Please, please just this once, can we get off easy." He had to believe that Dean wasn't hurt that bad, wasn't…he couldn't bring himself to even think his deepest fear. That Dean would never walk again. To Sam, that wouldn't make any difference; he would love his brother all the same, but for Dean…it would kill him, or he would blow his own brains out. And because of that he had to be okay, because Sam couldn't see him suffer like that. It would kill him too.

"Please, Dean you have to be okay," he sobbed, resting his head in his hands as he sat on the disgusting bathroom floor. He stayed like that for several more minutes, trying to gather himself, but was afraid someone would find him there and decided to go out and see if he could see Dean yet.

He flushed the toilet and went to wash his face in the sink, trying to scrub the tears from his cheeks, but his eyes were still red and puffy and he knew that the minute Dean saw him he would know. He could kick himself. Why couldn't he be strong like Dean? Could he not even be there to support his brother when he would need him more than ever?

He threw the paper towels away and left the bathroom to return to his spot in the waiting room, ignoring the nurse at the counter. He sat down again and rested his head in his hands, deciding that if they wanted the paperwork done, they were just going to have to wait until he could think straight. Besides, there was the whole problem of insurance, which made him want to cry in frustration. Why couldn't anything ever be easy?

It seemed like eternity before the doctor, a man in his forties with a pleasant enough face, and salt and pepper hair, came out.

"Family of Dean Winchester?" he asked.

Sam leapt up instantly. "Is my brother alright? Can I see him?"

The doctor smiled. "Of course, we've got him in a room now. I'd like to talk to both of you."

Sam swallowed hard, wanting to strangle the doctor for information. He did not like the sound of this. He wanted to know before Dean found out, wanted to know how bad it was.

"Please, Doctor, how bad is he?"

"Patience, Mr. Winchester, I'll get to that very soon." He opened a door and showed Sam in. The younger Winchester shot past him and ran to Dean's side, already hating the sight of him strapped in the bed so he couldn't move and injure himself further, his neck still in a brace, and wearing the flimsy hospital gown that made him look so vulnerable. His eyes met Sam's and brightened a bit, his hand turning palm upward in invitation. Sam swallowed the lump in his throat as he took it. Dean, of the 'no chick flick moments' was asking for him to hold his hand. That was more indication than anything that Dean was scared as hell. But then as Dean squeezed his hand, Sam wondered if it hadn't been for him instead, and worried just how much his anxiety was showing on his face.

The doctor closed the door and came over to the brothers. "We did several x-rays on Mr. Dean Winchester. It seems that when he fell, he received major bruising to the spine, which has caused swelling around a couple vertebrae in the lower back, which is pressing on the spinal cord, thus paralyzing the lower half of your body."

"But that's good right, it can be healed?" Sam asked, just wishing the doctor would get to the point.

"Nothing about a back injury is good," the doctor told him seriously, and Sam's heart was instantly in his throat again. "If we can get the swelling down, and there's no permanent damage done to the spinal cord, then, yes, it is possible that you could regain full movement again with lots of rigorous physical therapy."

"And if not?" Sam choked out.

The doctor looked at the brothers with a sympathetic expression. "Then I'm afraid you might have to get used to the idea of never walking again."

To Be Continued…

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