The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep

Robert Frost was stuck in Sam’s head, though he didn’t know why. The only thing trying to drown it out was the incessant beeping of the alarm clock. As if mired down in a pool of quicksand, he reached over to turn it off. He tried to open his eyes, tried to find Dean in the darkness of his brain and yet…there was nothing. He tried to speak but there was no sound. He heard the beep again and wanted to ask someone to make it stop, but the world went black again before he could make the request.

On the other side of the room, Dean slept fitfully in the uncomfortable chair. It had been two days now and he hadn’t left Sammy’s side for more than 10 minutes, and that was only because Bobby threatened to throw him out the window. He had taken a quick shower in the bathroom the nurse pointed out to him and returned to his brother’s side, water still dripping down his back. He was running on fumes, bad hospital food and a gallon of coffee you could tar a road with.

A soft groan from the bed caught his attention and Dean moved closer. He could no longer count the number of times this scenario had played out - Sam made some noise in his sleep and Dean rushed to him, hoping that this would be the one, this would be the time Sam woke up. But, once again, disappointment filled his heart. He didn’t know how much more he could take, but he knew that he would, no matter how long he had to wait.

Sam could feel something on his hand. Something warm and soft and familiar. He tried to tell Dean that he could let go now, but his voice was still MIA. He tried to remember where he was, how he had gotten there. He tried to figure out why Dean was talking to him so softly. Sam thought he heard another familiar voice, but he wasn’t sure. As the darkness swirled around his head, memories began to drift in and out.

Dad…he was gone, wasn’t he? He was an orphan now. Dean was with him, though, so this couldn’t be a nightmare. Dean…he got bit by a rattlesnake a few months ago. Almost died from it but Sammy had nursed him back and they had continued on with the fight. Since then, they had gotten rid of two vampire clans, a werewolf and a really nasty demon that spit green goo all over the hood of the Impala.

Sammy smiled as he remembered that fiasco. Dean about had a conniption fit. He scrubbed the damn car so many times, Sam was afraid the paint would wear off. Then they headed out to take out another vamp. That memory was a bit fuzzy around the edges but Sam tried to grasp it. Finally, the events of that night came flooding back as it began to dawn on him where he was.

~*~

The night was a black as onyx. There was no moon, no stars, nothing but him and Dean, sitting in a cemetery with a flashlight and Dean’s bag of tricks. As usual, there was no plan. "We’re Winchesters, Sammy," Dean had said matter-of-factly. "We wing it." And, as usual, shit hit the fan at lightning speed. Maybe that was their true destiny - try to take out as many of the bad guys they could before they bit the dust.

When the vamp came at them, the boys took off running. Sam was the bait. Some things just never seemed to change. He could see the light of the small chapel off to his left and he headed for that. Crashing through some bushes, the vamp hot on his tail, Sam slipped just as the bloodsucker’s hand closed over his wrist. The two of them fell into an ice cold pool of water. The holy water of the baptismal pool filled his lungs as he saw dust and bone floating to the surface.

And then…nothing. Sam had no memory of Dean arriving at the pool. No memory of him jumping in, cursing the freezing water. No memory of Dean dragging him out, forcing water from his lungs. His eyes never saw the look of terror on Dean’s face when he realized his little brother wasn’t breathing. Never knew how Dean carried him to the car, jamming Sam’s long, lean body into the front seat, cradling his head has he drove to the hospital.

He didn’t hear the words of love Dean whispered to him, or the promises his brother made to every god and demon he could think of, if they would just let Sam come back to him. He would do anything, give anything, if Sam would just open his eyes. Sam was in another world when the doctors took over, pumping him full of air, poking, prodding and sticking him with so many needles he looked like a pin cushion.

Lips brushing against his forehead reminded him of Dean and his fevered state after the rattler got him. Sam had made many of the same promises his brother had, and Dean had come back. Of course, it had required some…*special* nursing skills. Did Dean know what Sam had done, what he had ASKED him to do? Since he never mentioned it, Sam doubted it. But that didn’t keep him from dredging up the memory when he was alone in the shower, his arm stroking furiously to relieve the tension.

He remembered the sweet taste of his brother - his sweat, his tears, his blood…every ounce of fluid Sam had licked and sucked from his body. He remembered the way his lips were still swollen two days after from the crushing kiss Dean planted on him. The sound of his big brother’s pleading, begging to be sucked, echoed in his brain. And the feeling of sheer bliss that filled his heart as Dean filled his mouth could never be replaced.

Dean paced beside the bed, one eye on the light starting to creep through the window, the other on the figure in the bed. One more time, he started the bargaining. If Sam would only wake up, he would take better care of him. He would be nicer to him. He would tell him…Dean sighed. Fine, if someone - anyone - would just bring his Sammy back to him, he would tell him how he felt, what he wanted, how he dreamed of growing old and gray with this beautiful creature by his side.

Dean ticked off the list in his head. Jesus, Lucifer, a myriad of deities and dark lords were implored for this one thing. Rubbing his eyes, Dean looked up and said, "I’m sorry if I let you down. But I’m askin’ one more time - please let me have him back. I’ll do it right this time, I swear. I lost you and Dad and I can’t handle losin’ him too. Whatcha say, Mom? Can I keep him?"

~*~

Somewhere far away, Sam heard Dean talking. Did he just say mom? The fog began to lift and light slowly reached his eyes. The first thing that registered in his mind was the sound of the machines beeping next to his head. Then came the sting of the IV in his hand, followed by the feel of cool sheets against his skin. That was when he saw him. Dean was standing at the foot of the bed, eyes cast toward the heavens, talking to himself.

He tried to call out to his brother, but the tube in his throat made it impossible. Same thing with coughing or whistling or anything else that would have let Dean know he was back among the living. Spying the box of tissues on the tray next to him, Sam weakly reached over and knocked them to the floor. Dean spun around and the look on his face was sheer joy. He was calling for Bobby and the nurses as he rushed to Sam’s side, grabbing his good hand in the process

The flood of words from his mouth stopped as soon as the nurse entered the room, but the tears didn’t. The doctor came in and examined him, removing the tube from his mouth as he explained what had happened and what had been done. Bobby came in, checking to make sure that once again, he hadn’t lose one of the boys. After what seemed like an eternity, everyone left, with Dean promising that he would get some rest now. But there was something else he had to take care of first…

Sam looked up at his brother’s tear-streaked face, the questions on his mind very evident. He opened his mouth to speak, but Dean placed a finger gently across his lips. "Not now, Sammy," he whispered. "The doc said you gotta take it easy. You’ve had that damn tube down your throat for three days now." Sam nodded, watching as Dean grasped his hand again and brought it to his forehead.

"I thought I lost ya this time," Dean said, his voice breaking. "I thought, this is it. First Mom, then Dad and now you." His eyes slipped shut as he took a deep breath. "I couldn’t deal with that, Sammy. No way in hell could I live without you. I mean, I’ve lived without Mom mosta my life. And we’ve gotten along just fine since Dad died. I miss ‘em both, but I can deal with them not being here. But if you left me too…"

Sam watched as Dean’s voice trailed off and he began to cry softly. "I’ve accepted the fact that we ain’t ever going to have a normal life," Dean continued after a few minutes. "What we do, who we are - there isn’t even a notch on the scale for that. I know that someday, our number is gonna come up. One of us is gonna screw up somewhere, lose our focus for a split second, and some demon is gonna bite our asses hardcore. But when that happens, it ain’t gonna be you."

Sam looked at his brother, confusion creasing his eyebrows. Dean kissed the wrinkles softly before he spoke again. "I’m not gonna let anything happen to you, Sammy. If the day ever comes that some freak of nature bad ass demon decides to take you outta this world, I’m going, too. I can’t - no, I WON’T - live without you. I…I love you too much to lose you." Sam nodded, trying to tell Dean that he understood. Dean dropped his hand on the bed and began to pace again.

"It’s not normal, Sammy. Hell, some people might even say it ain’t natural. But I love you. I love you. Not like you’re my annoying little brother that I gotta put up and take care of kinda love, but…" His voice trailed off as he tried to muster the courage to go on. Sam watched as his brother fought the hardest demon of all, the one that would eat away at him until it killed him if Dean let it.

Dean whirled around, his eyes fixed on Sam’s face. "I love you," he repeated. "I need you, Sammy. And I want you." Sam swallowed hard, forcing his vocal chords to push out the words. "Shut up, Dean…" Fear spread across Dean’s face before the steely-eyed reserve he had worked on for the past few days came back. "No, Sammy, " he said, returning to his brother’s side. "I gotta say it all now or I’ll hate myself for the rest of my life."

"I may burn in hell for it, but truth be told, I’ll probably be doing that anyway. If you want me to leave, if you want me to go away and never speak to me again, I could learn to deal with that. But I don’t want to. I can’t. I…you…damn it, Sammy. I don’t want to share you with any more bleached blonde bimbos. I don’t want any more of them myself. I just want you. I want to hold you, kiss you, love you…and if you don’t want that, then I’ll deal."

"Shut up," Sam croaked again. Dean hung his head, nodding in defeat. When he raised his eyes a few minutes later, there was a sadness there that Sam hadn’t seen in a very long time. With every ounce of energy he had, Sam forced out the words that both end his brother’s misery and seal their fate for all eternity.

"Dean…shut up and kiss me."