When Dean woke up, he void himself laying in the bed, a familiar tingle in his hand. The distant beat of a monitor echoed around the room as his gaze found the IV stuck in his skin.

"A man is in surgery with a gunshot wound for your mistake." He could hear Mrs. Hill snap from the hallway, his door cracked just a little. He attempted to sit up, his body sore and his head throbbing worse than a hangover.

"No shit the company is going to pay for the surgery. You're also going to pay for the emotional trauma my patient has suffered and you'll be lucky if you and your coworkers don't get fired after this." Mrs. Hill spat, her voice filled with rage, making him shiver at just the thought at that anger being pointed at him, and he could see the tenseness in her shoulder from the crack in the doorway, along with a small huff in her voice that made it very cleared she was completely pissed.

After a moment, she strode back into Dean's room, guilt covering her face as she met Dean's gaze full with curiosity. "I'm glad you're awake, Dean. I'm afraid there's something I need to tell you that isn't good." She said, taking a seat by his bed with the remaints of her anger still in her features.

"What is it?" Dean replied warily, keeping his expression carefully blank.

"You had a seizure Dean." She began, a hesitant look in her eyes as she ran her hand gently over the top of her head for stray hairs. "I contacted the pharmacy after the nurses found a large amount of seratonin in your brain. I'm sorry, Dean, but they made a mistake and was giving you tenfold of the medication you needed."

There was a pause as Dean just stared at her, letting what she had said sink in. His heart began to speed up, and his face grew red as it twisted with anger.

"I went through hell because of a fucking mistake?!" He growled, his breath coming through in a rage. Mrs. Hill flinched from him, and Dean began to see red as she slid from the seat, moving towards the door in caution.

"I'm sorry, Dean. They'll pay for their mistakes." Mrs. Hill tried to console, but Dean ripped out his IV, standing up on shaky legs with a glare in his eyes.

"Unless they can go back in time and fix their mistakes, I don't care what pay they have to offer!" Dean shouted, his hands clenching in fists as tears began welling. "My brother is dying because of their 'mistake'!"

"Dean, I-" Mrs. Hill started to say, but was cut off by Dean's shout.

"Get out! Get the hell out and don't come back until Sam's surgery is done!" Dean shouted, taking a threatening step towards the therapist. She was opening the door in a hurry at that, the fear in her eyes causing Dean's anger to faulted, if only for a moment.

"And Hill." He growled, catching her tense attention. "I would like to call Castiel now."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean lifted his head as the door to his room slowly opened, a small of pain aching in his chest as Castiel peeked his head through the door. The bartender eased himself into the room, closing the door behind him before making his way over. As he got closer, he could see Castiel's eyes were red and a bit puffy.

"I'm glad you're okay, Dean." Castiel breathed out in relief, pulling Dean from the bed and into a warm hug. His voice was raspier than normal, and Dean couldn't stop the tear that fell from his lids as he held onto the warmth that was Castiel.

"I'm sorry." Dean whispered, pulling back and looking at Castiel's neck. The skin was purple and red, clearly irritated. The Winchester let out a shaky breath, letting his hand slide to Castiel's cheek and gazing into those intent blue eyes.

"Dean, it's okay. Your therapist told me what happened." Castiel replied, laying his hand over Dean's and letting their fingers lay together. Dean's jaw tensed and he pulled their hands down, intertwining them.

"Why did it have to be me?" Dean asked, staring down at their hands sullenly. How perfectly they fit, melding together in a way that no one has before.

"I don't know Dean. I don't know." Castiel replied softly, his hand tightening its squeeze in a comforting way. Silence fell over them and Castiel sat beside Dean, unlinking their hands so he could wrap his arms around Dean gently.

They sat in the quiet of each other's presence, allowing Dean to be comforted in the bartender's arms. The anger and panic of the day faded, only leaving the grief and worry for his brother behind. He closed his eyes, feeling a pressing on his chest, a darkness that was beginning to cloud over him.

A knock on the door brought them out of their thoughts, and Dean opened his eyes as a doctor walked in, a forlorn look on his face as he nodded a greeting to both of them.

"You are Dean Winchester?" The doctor asked Dean, his voice soft spoken compared to the bulk of the man. Dean nodded, sitting up and clenching his hands.

"Yes." Dean answered, his heart beginning to race.

"We've successfully removed the bullet from your brother's chest but there was...some complications." The doctor said, his brow furrowing together in sympathy. "He had a seizure mid-surgery and it caused some damage to his brain. I'm afraid he might not wake up."

Dean didn't know what to say, his eyes widening in shock. It was Castiel that spoke. "He's in a coma?" Castiel asked, his grip around Dean's shoulders tightening.

"I'm afraid that's the case. We've put him on life support, but I want to discuss your options with you." The doctor said, sympathy in his eyes as Dean slowly nodded, pulling out of the embrace of Castiel and sitting more formally, despite the shaking of his hands.

The doctor took a seat on one of the chairs, leaning his elbows on his knees. "The first option is to take him off of life support now. The second is to keep him on for three months. If he doesn't wake up in that time period, it's a pretty low chance that he will ever wake up. The third is to keep him on indefinitely."

"I want the third option." Dean said instantly, rubbing at his eyes. He was beginning to feel tired, drained from the onslaught of emotion that tugged at every limb in his body. He wanted to see Sam, wishing for those clever brown eyes and cheeky smile to show just one more time.

"Most families want that option, but I'm afraid that is very expensive, Mr. Winchester. Paying for life support for just three months would be difficult, but indefinitely would be almost impossible, even if it was for that barely existing chance that Sam would wake up." The doctor explained, but Dean just shook his head, his anger starting to come back. He clutching tightly to Castiel's hand, squeezing it in a death grip.

"I will do anything to keep him alive. As long as there is even a chance he will wake up, I will work my ass off." Dean growled, his voice resolute. The doctor could only nod in sympathy at the determination in Dean's eyes.

"Now, can I go see my brother?" Dean asked, his heart aching as the doctor nodded. He stood, leading Castiel out of the room by the hand only to stop when Castiel pulled him into a hug.

"I'll help, okay? Sam will wake up." Castiel commented, looking up at Dean with encouraging eyes. Dean slowly nodded, leaning and kissing the bartender gently on the lips before glancing away.

"Thank you, Cas..."