A Case of Cancer

Considering the Wind and It's Unexpected Beauty

Two days later- Washington DC.

Sam fiddled with a loose thread that came from the arm of his baggy hoodie as the midnight black Impala rumbled into the parking lot outside the large hospital. They drove around for a few minutes until they found a parking spot close enough to the front doors. Dean pulled to a steady stop before glancing across at his baby brother who was peering up at the large building while chewing his lip.

The young man turned to see Dean staring at him and blushed embarrassed, "You don't have to come..." He almost whispered into the silence that occupied the car.

Sam had refused to let Dean come in to many of his Chemotherapy sessions so far but now he was too weak to attend alone so needed his brother's help. Dean had gone along to only two or three and those were the days when Sam was too weak and exhausted which made him scared of collapsing.

"You don't want me to come?" Dean tried to remain impassive but it pained him to think that Sam didn't want him.

"No, I do. I do." He leapt to quickly correct him. He shivered as the constant cold caused goosebumps to erupt onto his flesh. He pulled himself further into what little heat his body was producing. Dean watched as his once massive brother seemed to shrink in size until he looked half the man he was.

"Okay then. You ready?" The elder asked hesitantly.

Sam nodded before pushing the door open with a loud huff that wasn't quite covered by the squeaking of the car door. He stepped onto the tarmac with weak legs that almost buckled beneath him so he lent against the car but tried to hide his slight shaking from his brother. He cursed his weakness and inability to keep down anything of substance.

He flashed a smile on his face when Dean looked over at him. He knew that it was a fake smile and he knew that his brother knew that it was a fake smile but he kept it in place nonetheless. He moved to be beside his brother and they began the walk up to the large building that was made mostly of glass. Dean slowed his usual pace to accommodate the sick man's lack of energy despite Sam's desperate attempts to keep up and act normal. The tall man strived to pretend that all is well and that he wasn't sick. The act was beginning to grate on Dean as his brother's performance meant that he could very rarely accurately assess the man's condition.

Sam tried to hide it as his breath became more laboured and he tried not to pant. Even the smallest activity was taking it out of him and it wasn't even one of his really bad days. The older man tried to slow the pace even more but Sam stubbornly refused to walk any other pace than 'normal'.

They eventually made it to the sliding doors of the hospital and Sam hesitated on the threshold almost glaring at the shiny floor on the other side. He really just wanted to be better. Erch, I hate hospitals, he groaned to himself.

Sam led the way up to the familiar ward as Dean was still slightly unsure of the direction. Nurses and doctors briefly smiled at them as the rushed passed in the corridors, none of which had time to stop. Dean watched the staff hurrying from one patient to the next like worker bees in an overcrowded hive. His eyes dashed around as the intense action moved all around him. He couldn't imagine the hospital being silent for even a minute as it seemed too far of a contrast to how it was usually. Sam on the other hand walked forward with his eyes set on the end of the corridor where the double doors where. He didn't spare a glance at the familiar faces or routines that were taking place around him. He walked forward with properties usually reserved for zombies or the living dead.

His usual hopefulness and cheer had seemed to be drained by the long corridors and shiny floors. He wasn't the Sam that Dean was used to or really wanted to see and if he was honest, seeing Sam like this scared him. The young Winchester almost clicked into place once entering the doors, his pale skin matching the stark white walls and his lifelessness akin to those lying in the hospital beds in the rooms near by. It was as if the ill man had switched to hospital mode.