Summary:  The Winchester family is faced with something it never saw coming not even in their worst fears, especially Dean's.
A/N:  Yet, another take on the events following “Devil’s Trap.” This will be AU because this story will not follow the likely outcome of the season opener.
Disclaimer:  The characters of Supernatural were created by Eric Kripke. The show is owned by the CW network. No profit is being made.

John stood in the doorway to his baby son’s room, and there was Sam. He was standing over by the bay window in his room looking out the window. John found himself remaining perfectly silent as he watched his son. Sam was standing on his own two feet, and it took John’s breath away. It was now or never, “Sammy?” His was voice soft and gruff. He watched his son turn and noticed the unsteady gait of his son’s left as he pivoted. John began to walk closer to his son, and stopped near the bed.

“D…d… dad!” Sam stood looking at his father, “You’re h…h…here!” Sam took a step toward his father, and forgetting in his excitement that his legs didn’t always want to work in unison, he stumbled as his left leg didn’t follow suit with the right, and he began to fall. John rushed forward and caught Sam as his son pitched forward. He hadn’t prepared himself as well as he thought at being told Sam had a speech deficit. He was Sammy, but the tall-tell signs of his brain injury still apparent in his walk and speech.

“I got ya,” he soothed. “Here,” he helped his son regain his balance. “Let me help you to the bed.”

“Nah, D…d… dad, I got it. I’m o…o…o…kay.” Sam assured. He studied his father for a long silent moment as he sat on the edge of his bed with his legs dangling over. “You look g…g… good,” he offered suddenly. The youngest Winchester was simply too surprised to process the fact his father was standing in front of him, after seven months of being MIA. He had a lot to say, but the words just seemed to be frozen inside, along with a lot of questions. John grinned sheepishly.

“Yeah, well, it’s amazing what a hot shower and a shave will do for you.” He replied. “But, Sammy, look at you,” his eyes gleaming with pride. Sam ducked his head, but John was awarded with something he knew he didn’t deserve, a dimpled-lopsided grin from his youngest child. John held his son’s eyes and an unspoken request must have been readable in John’s eyes because Sam nodded ever so slightly, and John knew it was okay to hug his son. John stood in front of Sam and pulled his sitting son against him, and hugged him. “It’s good to see you Sammy. Damn good.”

John pulled away from Sam and stepped back surveying his child. “W…w…what?” Sam asked with trepidation.

“Nothing,” John replied. “It’s just…” he paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. “Are you up for a walk? I mean, I saw some nice walking paths outside. I mean, can you? It’s not too much is it? I’d like to talk to you about some things. Stuff that needs to be said” Sam felt both a need to have whatever conversation his father wanted to have because John Winchester didn’t go for the heart to heart very often, almost never, but he was also afraid of the unknown implication behind the request to take a walk and talk.

“Not t…t… too fff…far, u…u…usual…ly go with D…D…Dean.” Sam took a breath to slow his speech down; he didn’t want to stutter anymore than he had to. He could see in his father’s eyes that it bothered the man, made him uncomfortable. But, as hard as he tried to stop the feelings of anxiety slowing growing in him he knew what would soon follow; broken words and fragmented sentences. And whether John or Sam were ready for it Sam was about to have a speech meltdown. John felt the mood shift and could see Sam tense.

“Sammy, you okay?” Sam nodded not trusting his voice. John spotted the three-prong cane near his son’s bed. “Should we take that with us?” He said as he walked over and got it for his son. Sam remained quiet. “Sam?” John put the cane down and watched his son. “Something wrong? Sam?” He felt a panic start to well up, “Sam, talk to me,” his tone suddenly dropped an octave and switched into a drill sergeant tone, and he hadn’t meant to, but that was all it took … Sam shattered.

“I want talk. W…w…words jump. You not like. I sss…see in yy…your fff…face.” He took a shuddering breath. “Www…why not hhh…here bbb…befff…be…fore? Dean mmm….mad at yyy…you. Not ttt…tell me www…why.”

“Sam calm down, son,” John didn’t know how to react. He didn’t know what his son needed. And, he was scared shitless right now.

“No!” Sam shouted. “I want talk. I sss…see you ttt…think I’m ddd…dam…aged.”

“No Sammy, it’s just. I didn’t know what to expect that’s all. I spoke to the doctor the other day on the phone she told me how well you were doing. You’re not damaged son,” John tried to soothe his distraught child. “It’s just that I thought … I mean , the doctor’s at the hospital said …” John took a deep breath. Damn I didn’t want to do it this way, he thought to himself. “They said you’d never recover. They said there was no hope. I shouldn’t have believed them … I was a fool …” Sam interrupted.

“You llll…leave cause doc..tor say I nnn… not get bbb…bet…ter! You nnn…not want sss…son that ccc…can’t hhh…hunt. You think bbb…broken.” he looked at his father, and John saw his young son’s eyes. They were both horrified and scared. “Nnn…now I kkk…know why Dean mmm…mad. He not ttt…tell me bbb…before.”

“Sammy, please,” John begged. He felt the situation spiraling out of control. “I’m not asking for forgiveness or even understanding. I don’t deserve it, I don’t.” John saw Sam look at him, but he remained quiet. “I made an awful mistake leaving you boys all those months ago. I can’t get that time back, I know that. I’ve been a lousy father to both you boys … I admit that. And, you deserve better, and I want to be that for you and Dean.” John took in a long breath.

“I didn’t leave because I thought you were broken and couldn’t hunt Sammy. You’re my son. I wasn’t strong enough Sammy, to accept what the doctors were telling me. They said you needed to be in a facility that could care for you long term. They said you’d never walk or talk. That’d you never acknowledge your brother or me or be able to care for yourself. I couldn’t stand by and watch you be anything less than Sam. I had hope. I kept it for weeks Sammy, but the doctors … their words finally broke me. I gave up. Everyday I sat by your bed and just saw the shell of the person that used to be my son. I’m the parent, I should have been stronger, but I wasn’t. I gave in and made plans to have you transferred to a place, but Dean…” He saw Sam’s eyes grow intense. “Dean never lost hope. He hated the doctors. He believed you could get better. He was right. I was so very wrong…”

“Sss…send ttt…to what ppp…place? Hhh…here?” John’s eyes were sad, and he shook his head no.

“Not here,” John offered, and saw that Sam wanted more. “That’s why Dean is upset with me Sam. He’s mad I left, but more because I believed the doctors, and I was going to have you placed in a facility that would care for you,” he hesitated. “A long term care facility.” Sam’s eyes widened in abject horror at his father’s words. He understood what long term care meant.

“You www…want to sss…send mmm…me to an in…instit…institu…tion?”

“Sammy, you gotta understand the doctors said there was no hope, and that you’d never be accepted into a rehab because there was no chance for a meaningful recovery. But, they were wrong. I was wrong for losing faith. Look at you now,” he encouraged. “It’s a miracle. And, Dean he got you into this place.”

“How here?” John’s face became solemn.

“Because you wrote down Dean’s name on your paperwork before you collapsed. You gave him authority to make your health and care decisions. And, once they knew that then Dean was the only one to make decisions for you. My plans to send you to a care facility were cancelled … Dean wouldn’t permit it. Sam, I’m so sorry, that I lost faith. I was coming back to you and Dean when I found out about how well you were doing when I spoke to the doctor. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. But, I knew I had made a horrible mistake leaving you boys, and I was coming back to face whatever was waiting … even if you hadn’t improved I was coming back to be your father and Dean’s. Please, I just need you to hear me. Like I said I’m not asking for forgiveness, just another chance with you boys. To make things right.”

“Nnn…not right. Not ever. You lll…leave cause my head hhh…hurt. You www…want ttt…to put me in a hhh…home fff…for veg…veget…ables, cause you think I www…was one.” Sam voice was near hysterical as he fought the onslaught of the emotions rolling through him.

“Please, Sammy …” John pleaded.

“You sorry sonofabitch,” Dean growled from the doorway. He had heard his brother’s distraught voice down the hall as he approached, and then had heard his father. “What did you tell him?” He seethed as he blew by John to walk over to Sam. “Sammy, you okay?”

“You not ttt…tell me … he www…want me … in a hhh…home for veggies.” Dean put a soothing hand on his brother’s shoulder and turned blazing eyes to his father.

“You’re a lousy sack of shit you know that? You had no right telling him that crap. He didn’t need to know. He didn’t need to know that his own father gave up on him. You’re a selfish bastard you know that! What? You crawling back here lookin’ for some kind of redemption because it’ll be a cold day in hell before that happens, old man. You walked out on us, you walked out on Sammy seven months ago because you could hack it, so go back to whatever rock you crawled out from under and get the fuck out of our lives.”

“Dean, wait just a goddamn minute.” John hissed. “I told Sam I’m not here for forgiveness. I know I screwed up. I was on my way back anyway, Dean, and Sam being better was just an added bonus.”

“What? You think suddenly because you decided to come back to us after seven months, and that even you thinking Sam was still the same as he was when you left that suddenly that makes you father of the year!”

“No, I never said that.” John kept his voice level and tried to measure his next words carefully. “I want …” he paused knowing that wasn’t the right approach. “I would like to have a second chance to make things right between the three of us. I want to be the father you boys deserve.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“You’re fuckin’ delusional!” Dean barked. “Sam doesn’t need you and I as sure as hell don’t. Sammy is fine …” He was interrupted by his brother.

“Don’t ttt…talk about mmm…me like I’m nnn…not hhh…here.” Sam shouted.

“I’m sorry Sammy,” Dean offered.

“Sam?” John started. Dean tensed at the sound of his brother’s name coming from his father. The man didn’t even deserve to say his little brother’s name.

“No!” Sam shouted as he attempted to stand. He was angry, hurt and confused as he stood to face his father. A tingling feeling ran down his left arm that he recognized all too well as he stood, a seizure was coming, but this time something was different. “Dean?” The sound of his name sounded distant and Sam voice was scared, and Dean recognized the signs of what was about to happen.

“Sammy, here sit…” but before he could finish his sentence Sam’s legs buckled and Dean caught him easily. The seizure started in his left hand traveling up his left arm and rapidly spread upward, soon Sam’s left side of his body was seizing, and Dean felt panic. He cradled Sam loosely against himself as half of his body jerked. Tensing and releasing. Sam’s neck would spasm throwing his head repeatedly into his brother’s stomach as Dean sat on the floor cradling his brother across his lap. “Help!” he screamed. John watched in horror as he saw Sam seize. He snapped out of his moment of paralysis, and ran into the hall yelling for help.

“Help, my son’s having a seizure!” The panic in Dean’s face was more than enough to unsettle him, and he knew something wasn’t right. The doctor had explained Sam’s seizures to him on the phone in detail, and obviously things had changed.

“It’s okay Sammy,” Dean soothed, as he held his seizing brother. Sam’s eyes were filled with fear, and Dean wanted nothing more than to take that fear away. “It’s gonna be okay, Sammy. We’ll fix this.”

“Helps coming,” John panted as he ran back into the room. Dean turned up his face toward his father.

“This is your fault. You did this,” he growled. “If anything happens to him … I’ll kill you.” And, in that moment John knew it wasn’t a threat, but a solemn promise Dean would keep. He watched his oldest child turn his attentions back to his thrashing brother, and heard soft comforting words fall from Dean’s lips as he held his brother.

Four Hours Later

John sat in the waiting area just down from Sam’s room. Dean wouldn’t leave Sam’s side as he slept. He had been given an injection for his seizure, and had fallen asleep shortly after. Dr. Myer’s had spoken to Dean and John separately since it was clear that Dean didn’t want to see his father. John scrubbed a hand over his face as he blamed himself for the advanced seizure. The doctor had told him that Sam’s emotional state might have likely caused the seizure to escalate, but also, perhaps, it was a natural progression since his most current seizure before this one had required medication to stop. Sam had been upset by the news from Dr. Myers that now he would be taking anti-convulsive medication, because the Jacksonian seizure had graduated to body involvement beyond the arm and hand.

John looked up from the floor when he heard footsteps approach stopping near him.

“Dean?” John was shocked to see his son standing there. “Is it your brother?”

“No,” he said bluntly. “Why are you still here?”

“Because I want to make sure your brother is okay when he wakes up, and because I want to be here.”

“Sammy would have been fine if you hadn’t come back. You being here made him have that damn seizure. It’s never been that bad. You’re to blame. We don’t want you here.”

“I left Dean and that was a mistake. I should have stuck it out. I should have believed in your brother the way you did.” Dean glared at his father, and John shut his mouth.

“You’re preachin’ to the choir.” He lowered his tone to a hushed octave. “I don’t give a rat’s ass that you’ve finally figured out you fucked up. But, guess what dad? There aren’t any do-overs. You can’t take back what you tried to do … putting Sam in some god forsaken state run hole in the wall to rot. He needed you to be a father. He needed you to believe he still had potential. Dammit, it wasn’t like I didn’t see how he really was back then … I know he wasn’t Sam, not when he was staring off, and didn’t know I was there. I wasn’t blind, dad. I saw it, but through it all, I saw what I needed to, I saw Sammy, my little brother, and that’s all I needed. I believed in him, and even if the brain damage had been as severe as the doctors said it was … I still wouldn’t have given up on Sam, not now, not ever. But you… you wanted to put him in that place and forget about him. And, even if he stayed the way he was for the rest of his life, Dad, he deserved better than that place.” Dean had a fire in his eyes.

“I didn’t want to forget about him, Dean,” John offered. “I just knew we couldn’t care for him on our own.”

“Bullshit Dad,” Dean hissed. “You said we’d visit, remember? You wanted to leave him there and the two of us to go back to hunting that evil bastard demon. You told me I would waste my life staying with Sammy. Remember!”

“I was wrong Dean. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“Oh, sell that load of crap somewhere else because I’m all ready up to my eyeball’s in the bullshit you’re shoveling. You knew exactly what you were saying. Do you even realize what would have happened to Sam in a place like Meadowbrook? Do you? He would have had no stimulus, nothing. He would have been turned, fed and watered … like some kind of goddamned plant. He would have gotten worse been like that kid back at the hospital all because he had no constant stimulus, physical therapy in his bed, no human contact or people talking to him to draw him into the world. You were writing him off.” Dean looked at his father and wanted so desperately to lash out at the man, but instead he just looked at the him and felt his hot anger seethe under the surface.

“Dean, please, listen to me …”

“No!” he hissed with venom. “You can’t take back leaving me, leaving Sammy while he wasn’t even completely out of his coma. You can’t take back being a cowardly shit of a father and abandoning a son with a head injury and possible permanent brain damage. You don’t deserve a family. You don’t deserve me and especially not Sammy.” John lowered his head and stared at the floor.

“You’re right,” he said quietly. Dean stood staring at the top of his father’s head dumbfounded by what he thought he heard.

“What?”

“I said you’re right,” John offered. He looked up now and met his son’s eyes. “You’re right about it all.” Dean saw the sincerity in his father’s eyes, but right now all it did was make his skin crawl.

“I don’t have time for this crap,” he said turning back toward his brother’s room. “Sam needs me, and I’ve wasted too much time talking to you all ready.” Dean turned and left, he didn’t want Sam to wake up to an empty room. John let him go, but he remained where he was. He knew he was in for a battle to get his son’s back into his life, and he was in it for the long haul. Whatever Dean or Sam for that matter wanted to dish out he was going to take it because John Winchester had it coming to him, and also he thought to himself, that was what a parent was supposed to do … no matter how bad things were going to get, and he knew they would, he wasn’t going to back down, he wouldn’t give up on his children, his family … not this time. John Winchester wasn’t going anywhere.

Ivy Ridge, Later that Evening

John sat down the hall from Sam’s room. His mind was still trying to work out a solution to get his boys back. He had hoped that Sam would have been the bridge back to Dean, but when their conversation had gone so terribly wrong things went down the drain quickly, and that possibility seemed hopeless now. He got up and walked quietly down to Sam’s room. He knew he was pushing his luck, but if he didn’t keep pushing, he felt he’d lose his boys forever. Dean felt a presence and turned around in his chair by his brother’s bed. His eyes met John’s, but the older man stayed outside Sam’s room. He saw Sam’s head was lulled to the side and he was sound asleep. Dean glanced at his brother and got up approaching John. His voice was low as he walked out into the hall.

“I don’t want you here,” his voice was insistent.

“I just wanted to see how he’s doing. Did he wake up yet?”

“You had seven months to ask how’s he’s doing and to check up on him. I asked the doctor how many times you’d called and she said twice Dad. Two times since Sam was admitted, and this newest call doesn’t matter. She said you called before he came here and a couple days after he was admitted, and then nothing.”

“Dean, son,” John began. “Look, I know I made some mistakes. I screwed up. I’ve all ready admitted that.”

“What? You want a cookie or something. Whoopee freakin’ do, John Winchester admits he was wrong and that he’s a screw up,” Dean hissed keeping his voice quiet. It was late and most of the residents were asleep. “And, what, suddenly everything should be rainbows and sunshine, up yours!” Dean ground out.

“I didn’t say that Dean. Look, I’m not going anywhere, all right. And, look here Mister all high and mighty have you bothered to tell your brother about the moments before he collapsed, huh? Have you told him what you said to him, how you treated him? I know he doesn’t remember the doctor told me when I spoke to her earlier this evening, and I asked about Sam’s memory. She said he has no recollection of the hospital after the wreck. Well, cat got your tongue?”

“You sonofabitch,” he hissed. “Yeah, I screwed up, I admit that, and yeah, someday I’ll tell Sam when it’s safe to tell him. But, you come in here after bailing on us seven months ago, and tell Sam about Meadowbrook, and get him so upset that he has a seizure worse than any he has ever had in here. So… you sanctimonious piece of shit, did you tell Sam what you said to him at the hospital, huh?”

“I will,” John offered. “When he’s ready to hear it.”

“Haven’t you hurt him enough? Done enough damage? If you say or do one more thing that sets back his recovery I will make you pay. Dr. Myers all ready wants to keep him an additional week now because of that damn seizure, and see how he does on his medication. And, it’s your entire fault.”

“Dean, you may not believe this, but you boys are the best thing in my life. The most important thing.”

“You can go sell crazy somewhere else Dad, we’re all full up here,” Dean said flipping his hand above his head indicating the level of being fed up he was.

“I…” John felt his mouth go dry, but he had to say it, after all, he meant what he was about to say. “I love you boys, both of you Dean. I know I’ve been a lousy Dad since your Mom passed. I know that I’ve let that damn demon become a priority and both you boys suffered for it. I know this. Look I’ll give up looking for the damn thing, I will. I just want my boys back.” Dean stood looking at his father considering his words, but the quiet sleep inflected voice of his brother calling his name pulled his mind from further consideration on his father’s words. Dean quickly turned and went to his brother.

“I’m right here Sammy,” Dean soothed. He reached up and pushed back his brother’s bangs. John stood in the dim shadows outside the door and watched. Dean had changed over the long months. It was clear that he no longer withheld emotional bonding from Sam. Dean Winchester had let some of his stoic nature slip away. He decided to give his boys some privacy and stepped back. He went back to the sitting area to wait.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?” he answered quietly.

“Ddd…don’t be mmm…mad,” Sam replied.

“Mad? Sammy, you didn’t do anything wrong kiddo. Why would I be mad?”

“Not that … I nnn…need,” Sam took a breath. “I’m rrr…ready ttt…to talk. I www…want to ttt…talk to him.”

“Who? Dad? Sammy, he upset you so bad you had a seizure. There’s no way in hell I’m letting you talk to him. I don’t even want him around you.”

“Mmm…my choice,” Sam said quietly. “Isn’t it?” Dean sighed and looked at his brother. He scrubbed a hand over his weary face. He had been calling the shots for so long in Sam’s life now. By not just being his brother, but his legal guardian while he was incapacitated that he’d forgotten that his brother was capable of making his own decisions now to a certain degree. It wasn’t that he saw his brother as incompetent, but even Dr. Myers had said that cognitively Sam still had some delays, and it had just seemed a given that Dean made the important decisions, and until this moment Sam had never asserted himself.

“I don’t like it, Sammy.” Dean replied. “I don’t want you hurt. He walked out on us, on you, you heard him. He even admitted it.”

“I know he did. Sorry, yyy…you got sss…stuck dealing with all ttt…this.”

“No, Sammy, I didn’t mean for you to think I was stuck. I wasn’t kiddo. Come hell or high water I wasn’t going to go anywhere all those months ago. Dad staying or going meant nothing toward me staying with you. I wasn’t stuck dealing with you Sam. You’re my brother and you’d had done the same for me. Geez, I think this conversation is a broken record with us. You’re not some responsibility I was saddled with, okay? See what being around that ass for just a short while has done to you. Damn him.”

“I know… you … mad with him,” Sam’s sentences were fragmenting, but Dean knew at times it was just simpler for his little brother, and often helped with the stuttering to a degree. “I under…stand why. I’m mad ttt…too.”

“Good,” Dean answered satisfied. “You should be. What he did … a parent doesn’t do, at least not one worth anything. He left Sam. He couldn’t hack it.”

“I know, but…”

“But, nothing Sammy! That bastard bailed on us, on you. You sound like you want to forgive him or something. Act like nothing happened. You seized today because he upset you so much. He was the reason your seizure escalated.”

“Dean please,” Sam began. “I’m mad about him www…wanting to ppp…put me in a home. But… I was in a coma …I didn’t have to watch him ggg…go. You did. Dad, was always bbb…bigger than life ttt…to you. Me and him … we fight, always hhh…have. It diff…different for you.” Dean shook his head.

“No, Sammy, you may have been in a coma, but you’re awake now. You know what he did and where he wanted to put you. It’s not different for me … it isn’t.”

“Hard…er for you Dean. You’re lying ttt…to your…self if you say I’m nnn…not right. You fff…feel bbb…be…betrayed. Dad just ccc…couldn’t handle it.”

“He should have been able to handle anything Sammy. You’re his son, and he should have been able to handle things no matter how hard they got. I did, for fuck’s sake. I handled it. I sat with you, turned you, talked to you. Hell, I’ve shaved you when you needed it. And, when you could eat, I fed you until you could feed yourself. Dad, wasn’t here for any of that. I was.”

“I know you did those thh…things. I’m thh…thank…ful…” Dean cut his little brother off.

“No, Sammy, I don’t want you thanking me for something that should be automatic. You take care of family. You do what you do because it’s family. You’re my little brother. There isn’t anything I …” Dean turned his face away.

“I know … there isn’t aaa…any…thing I www…wouldn’t do for yyy…you either.” Dean turned back and looked at his brother.

“I can’t forgive and forget Sammy … I can’t,” Dean paused his eyes growing intense. “I won’t.” Sam nodded and gave Dean a knowing smile.

“Nnn…not asking yyy…you to. I under…stand. But…”

“But, you want to see the bastard and talk to him,” Dean replied.

“Need ttt…to do this,” Sam answered. “Alone.” Dean leveled a look on is brother.

“Sam,” his was voice serious. His little brother just looked at him with his big dark eyes, and he relented. “Fine,” he grumbled. Sam put out a hand and placed it on his brother’s forearm.

“You mad at me?”

“Nah, Sammy,” Dean answered.

“I don’t www…want to … hurt you.” Sam’s voice and eyes were so sincere that it made Dean ache inside. “I jjj…just have to … fff…fin…ish.”

“I’m not hurt Sammy,” Dean assured, although he felt a slight betrayal by the fact his brother still wanted to speak with their father after everything that had happened. “I don’t understand why you need to talk to him, but if it’s what you need to do,” he replied. “Look Sam,” Dean’s voice trembled. “I did something I’m not proud of a few months back before your collapse. Maybe I’m just as bad as Dad. I…” He felt hot tears sting his eyes, but not fall. Sam smiled, and patted his brother on the shoulder.

“I know.” Dean turned wide eyes to his brother.

“You know what Sammy?”

“I re … mem… ber seeing you in hos…pit…al. You were mad. Dad ttt…to.”

“Oh, Jesus, Sammy,” Dean was horrified. “I thought you said you were blank.”

“I was, but it came bbb…back to mmm…me last www…week.”

“Why didn’t you say anything? I’m so sorry Sam. I know you have every right to be pissed, I …”

“Stop,” Sam said with a smile. “I was mad fff…for about an hour, but I can’t sss…stay mad. Dean, you stayed with me whole ttt…time. You ttt…took care of me. It’s okay. How ccc…could I be mmm…mad? I not say any…thing bbb…be…cause there not any…thing to say. I not mad … ccc…couldn’t be.”

“Sammy, don’t let me of the hook that easily. I screwed up. I said things I didn’t mean. Hell, after I said them I didn’t even know why I went off on you in the first place. I probably caused you to collapse.”

“No!” Sam replied. “Not your fault. Head messed up. Would have hap…happen…ed anyway. No blame. It’s ooo…over and done. The ppp…past.”

Dean and Sam sat with one another a few more minutes, and it was plain to Dean that his little brother didn’t care to talk about what happened months ago, and it was water under the bridge between them. Dean felt he deserved anger from his brother, but instead he was given absolution. “So,” Dean broke the silence. “You want me to go get him? He’s down the hall.”

“Yes, ppp…please.”

“All right, but its late Sammy, and you should be resting.”

“Not a little kid,” Sam’s voice was annoyed, but he had spoken clearly.

“No, you’re not,” Dean relented. “But, you had a seizure today, and you’ve been medicated.”

“I’m fff…fine.”

Dean excused himself and went to get their father at Sam’s request. John looked up as he heard someone approaching. He stood up as Dean walked up to him. “Is he okay? Something wrong?”

“Look,” Dean began. “I don’t like this, but he wants to see you.”

“He does?” John felt hope flare in his chest.

“Yeah,” Dean relented. “He needs his rest and I don’t want you upsetting him.” His eyes glared at his father intensely.

“I won’t,” John assured. He stood facing Dean feeling as if he needed permission to proceed down the hallway. Dean studied his father for a long moment. He let out a begrudged sigh and stepped aside unblocking his father from walking to Sam’s room. John started toward the room and stopped. “You’re not coming?”

“He asked to see you alone,” Dean grumbled. “It’s what he wants.”

“I’ll follow his lead Dean. I promise I won’t upset him.” Dean’s only reply was a curt nod. He watched his father turn and walk down the hall, and as he disappeared into Sam’s room he sat heavily down in the chair beside him. He felt half sick with anxiety. He wanted to be in there. He needed to be.

“Sammy?” John’s voice was soft and tentative. He watched his son turn his head on his pillow and look at him. He could see his young son’s tired features. “Son, maybe you should rest. We have plenty of time to talk.”

“No, talk now,” Sam said simply. John approached his bed. Sam eyed him, and he felt as though he was being measured up, and he guessed he probably was. “Sit down ttt…to hard ttt…to look up.” John offered a soft smile.

“Yeah, right,” he agreed. “Sorry,” he gave his son a sheepish smile. He sat silent waiting for his youngest child to speak. And, Sam remained quiet. John decided to break the silence. “Sammy, I’m following your lead, okay? You want to talk, we’ll talk. If you’ve changed your mind and don’t want to do this now then that’s okay, too. I’m not going anywhere, and when you’re ready I will be too.” Sam didn’t know how to take this new John Winchester. This was a father he had never met before. He could see the sincerity in his father’s eyes, hear it in his words, and it stirred something inside him he couldn’t define. His eyebrows creased in thought for a moment, and John waited.

“Ccc…ch…” Sam let out a sigh and concentrated. “Chris..to.” John looked at his young son perplexed not sure he had heard correctly.

“What?” John asked. “Son, it sounded like you said, Christo.” Sam allowed a small smile to show at the edges of his mouth. And, then John understood, and smiled. “Man, have I been that bad that when I sound understanding or supportive to either of my boys you think I’m possessed. Of course, your brother had it right in the cabin, though.” John paused not wanting to bring up that night unless Sam did. “Dammit, I’ve really screwed the pooch with you boys haven’t I?”

“I’m angry.” Sam’s admission was quiet, but very clear. John nodded as he held his son’s gaze.

“Well, you should be Sammy,” John replied. “Hell, I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t want to take a swing at me. Lord, knows your brother did.” Sam turned wide eyes to his father. “Oh, not here … back when you were in the hospital. He clocked me a good one, but I had it coming. I would have punched me, too.”

“I knn…know I ttt…talk funny,” Sam began. John wanted to interrupt, but he could see he needed to let his son speak; however, he softened his eyes trying to let Sam know he didn’t think that. Sam looked at his father, “let me fff…fin…ish,” he said quickly sensing his father wanted to interject. “I get that it mmm…must have bbb…been hard when I was in a coma. But you leave. Dean stay. We’re your chh…children you shh…should have stayed. You should have never www…wanted to ppp…put me in a home. Dean did every…thing, and you lll…left him ttt…to do it alone.” John felt the impact of the words his baby son struggled so hard to say, and it felt like a kick to his solar plexus.

“Sam,” John began when a long moment of silence filled the room after his son’s last sentence. “What I did was inexcusable. I left you boys and I made a conscious decision to do it. You’re right I should have never even considered putting you in a home or any place that wouldn’t attempt to make your quality of life better. If I could turn back the clock … I would. But, you’re brother was right when he said ‘there are do-overs’ at least not with this. I’m not asking for a clean slate … but I am asking for … hell, not even a second chance,” John relented. “I’m probably on chance 1,000 by now, as much as I’ve screwed things up recently and over the years with you and your brother.”

“You hurt Dean,” Sam said quietly and suddenly.

“I know,” John said with sad eyes. “I hurt you too, Sammy. I wish I could take it back, but I can’t. I thought a home was the best place for you … I was wrong, so very wrong. I thought Dean staying behind to stay with you was wrong. I thought he’d stay by you everyday for the rest of your life or his,” John took a breath. “I even told him he was going to waste his life sitting by your bedside. I just thought the doctors were right, and I couldn’t handle seeing him sit with you everyday waiting for a miracle that wasn’t going to happen, but, it did, you woke up, and look at you. Maybe, I should stay away, but only if you and your brother want me to. But, I want you to know that I want to stay… work through things. If it takes the rest of my life Sam, I want to be your father again.” John could see the hurt in his young son’s eyes as he processed the confession of what John admitted to when he told him about his conversation in the hospital with Dean.

“I re…mem…ber what hap…pened in the hos…pit…al. You not want to see mm…me. You angry I not shh…shoot you. You told mmm…me ttt…to leave.” John closed his eyes for a moment.

“I thought… the doctor said you didn’t remember.”

“Came bbb…back last week. I not tell. I know you and Dean said thh…things. I for…give that. But, whh…what hap…pened after … not sure … maybe forgive in time, but never forget.”

“Sammy…”

“No, I hurt, but Dean more. You speak to him.” John ached hearing his son’s fractured speech. The doctor had told him when Sam’s language skills backslid into fragmented and grammatically incorrect sentences he was usually in distress. But, Sam appeared to be okay. John watched him for any sign of another seizure.

“Son, your brother is extremely angry with me, and speaking to me is the last thing he wants to do right now. It’s complicated.”

“Dean wor…shipped you. He think what you did a be…tray…al to him and me. You hurt him when you leave. He not ad…mit, but I know. Dean wants a family,” Sam spoke with concentration. “He said so in Chi…ca…go. He said he wan…ted the three of us to…ghe..ther again. It im…por…tant to him.” John let his young son’s words sink in and resonate with him.

“He really said that?”

“Yes.” Sam replied quietly.

Dean paced back and forth in the small lounge area. He kept watching the hall and looking to see when his father would leave. He looked at his watch and let out a frustrated sigh. His Dad had been in there with Sam for almost 45 minutes. “Dammit,” he grumbled quietly to himself.

“Ddd…dad?”

“Yeah, Sammy?”

“Talk to hhh…him before ttt…too late.”

“I think it all ready may be son. I don’t think Dean will ever look at me the same way again even if we do start over. Sammy, don’t misunderstand me, but after what happened today … why are you talking to me? I don’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth, but…” John didn’t finish.

“I’m mad and hurt. But, Dean mat…ter more to me. He need things ttt…to be okay with you even if he ccc…can’t see that. Get him. I talk to him and then he’ll talk to you.”

“Sam, I don’t think your brother’s going to appreciate you playing the little brother card to make him talk to me. He should do it on his own … when he’s ready.”

“Dean, never be ready. Stub…born like all Win…ches…ters.”

“You have a point.”

“Go,” Sam motioned to the door. Sam watched his father leave. His mind filled with a hundred different thoughts and emotions. He had been truthful, he was mad and hurt, but Dean mattered more. He knew that it would slowly kill Dean in some deep unspoken way if things were never set right between his older brother and father. He knew his dad had let Dean down in a big way. Shattered his idea of the man he thought he was. Maybe, it wasn’t so hard for Sam, he thought to himself, because he had never put their father on a pedestal like Dean had. Sam had always been contrary by nature when dealing with their father, but Dean … he had always been the good son, the good soldier.

Dean turned from the window as his father approached. “Is Sam all right?”

“Yes,” John assured. “He asked me to come get you. He wants to see you.”

“You better not have upset him,” Dean warned as he pushed past John. The elder Winchester watched his firstborn walk to Sam’s room. He shook his head slightly. He knew Sam would have his work cut out for him, and he still idly wondered how he had somehow managed to get in Sam’s good graces enough that he wanted to help mend fences. He knew Sam was worried about Dean, and even if his baby son was profoundly hurt by the events of the last few months he would put all aside for his big brother. Dean walked into the room and his eyes immediately trying to adjust to the dim lighting. “You okay Sammy?” he asked as he walked with purpose to his brother’s side.

“I’m fff…fine Dean.”

“You sure? Cause if he said something…”

“Dean, it’s okay. I www…want to ttt…talk to you.”

“About?”

“Dad,” Sam answered simply.

“Nothing to talk about,” Dean countered. “Unless he said or did something to you … there’s nothing to talk about.” Dean looked away from his brother.

“Dean, please…” and there it was and Dean knew he’d break. He looked at his brother and saw the desperate need in his little brother’s dark eyes.

“Fine,” he relented. “What is it?”

Sam took a calming breath… he was going to make every word come out right or at least try. “I want you to talk to dad. Try to make up.” Sam saw the shocked looked cross his brother’s face. “No, listen… he knn…knows he was wrong. I tell him I’m mad and hurt, but Dean… you are too. Please try…” and Sam could see the stubborn set to his brother’s jaw and could clearly see the muscles of his jaw twitch, so he decided to bring out the big guns. “Dean, please, ddd..do for me. Make work. Try, please. Talk to him.”

“Sammy, do you know what you’re asking? I can’t forgive him … I won’t.”

“Not ask…ing to forgive or forget,” Sam paused. “Just try …”

“Just try what Sam!”

“Be a fam…ily.” Sam struggled with the word family.

“A family? You know maybe I oughta page Dr. Myers because I think that seizure today knocked something loose. Maybe killed a few brain cells.” Sam looked at Dean. “Family? The only family I see here is you and me Sammy.”

“You say in Chi…ca…go you want us three to…ghe…ther again. We can be.”

“Do you even remember what you said to me then Sam? You said we are a family, but that you didn’t want us to be together like before.”

“Thh…things change. Diff…erent now.” Sam’s eyes were sad for a moment and Dean saw the hurt of realization shift across his brother’s young face. He felt like an ass for hurting his brother with his words.

“Hey, Sammy,” Dean tried to smooth things over. He kept his voice soft. “I didn’t mean anything by that okay. And, yeah, things are different right now, but you’re improving all the time.”

“I know,” Sam agreed. “But, want you to try.”

“I don’t trust him Sam,” Dean answered bluntly. “He’ll just bail again.”

“Maybe nnn…not” Sam replied. “I think he wants ttt…to bbb…be here. Give chance.”

“Dammit, you’re like a dog with a bone. I’m not going to keep my mouth shut. If I got something to say or he steps out of line … I’m laying into him.”

“Not ask…ing for mir…acles,” Sam said with a smile. “Just to try.”

“I still don’t get why you’re letting him off the hook.”

“Not,” Sam replied. “He knows I’m mad and hurt, but sss…still www…want ttt…to try. Make work.”

Dean scrubbed a hand over his face. “It’s late Sammy. You need your rest.”

“Dean?”

“Yeah?” he answered with a tired sigh.

“Maybe live to…ghether. Rent house?” Dean turned to his brother with an exasperated look.

“Ah, hell no,” Dean hissed quietly. “No way. Not gonna happen.”

“Dean, it’s cheaper. Rent a house not apart…ment.”

“Sammy, I can provide for us. I told you I’d find a place, and I will.”

“I know,” Sam agreed. “It can work.”

“What? Dad in my face everyday, no way.”

“He knows you need space. Can save mon…ey if not all go to rent. Spilt with Ddd…dad.”

Sam and Dean went round and round over the issue, and finally Dean relented. He was sick to his stomach over the prospect of sharing a roof with his father, but it seemed important to Sam, why he had no clue. But, upsetting his brother wasn’t something he wanted to do, so he’d bite the bullet for Sammy.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “But, don’t expect me to kiss his ass. I don’t like this … just so you know that I’m doing this for you Sammy. Don’t expect the Brady bunch. I can hardly stand the sight of the man.”

“Thanks,” Sam said with a lopsided smile. “Now, talk to him.” Dean rolled his eyes and let out a frustrated sigh.

“Fine, but not unless you agree to get some sleep.”

“Okay,” Sam gave in to his brother’s request. “Go, talk. I promise to sll…sleep.” Sam closed his eyes to reiterate the fact he intended to sleep.

John saw Dean come out of the room and he stood up as his son approached. “Sammy okay?”

“Yeah,” Dean groused. “Look…this isn’t my idea, okay? He wants us to talk. I got nothing to say. I don’t trust you dad not after what you pulled.” Dean stared at his father.

“I know,” John countered.

“You’ll bail again it’s just a matter of time,” Dean’s eyes were intense. “Sammy just can’t see that … or maybe can’t accept it.”

“I know you’ve got no reason to believe that I won’t leave again Dean, but I’m not leaving you boys. I’m staying here. I won’t bail…” Dean interrupted his father.

“Yeah, well, if the next words out of your mouth are I promise, I think I’ll hurl.”

“I could promise Dean, but it wouldn’t mean anything to you. Actions speak louder. I’m here to stay.”

“Yeah, and what happens if things get rough, huh? I mean, god forbid, Sam develops other seizure disorders and is in and out of the hospital. I mean, you have no clue what other problems he could face. The first sign of trouble you’re going to hit the road.”

“I’ve spoken to the doctor and she has told me what he could face. And, no matter what Dean I’m not leaving. I know you have no reason to believe me, but I can prove it to you by staying. I’m not leaving.”

“Whatever,” Dean complained under his breath. “Look, this isn’t what I want, but it’s important to Sam, and after everything he’s been through I can’t say no. He wants us to split rent with you on a place. He wants a house.” John thought his head would explode when he heard those words. Sam had pulled off a bona fide miracle.

“Okay,” he was at a loss for words. “How do you want to do this?” He’d follow his son’s lead.

“I don’t, but like I said for Sam I’ll deal. I’ll find a place … alone,” Dean added quickly he didn’t want to go around town with his father. “You getting a job?”

“Well, I wanted to clear it with you first,” John spoke. “I could get my old job back or Larry’s brother has a shop over by the airport that I could get full-time employment at, and just like Larry it carries health benefits. I could put Sammy on my policy.” John offered knowing that Sam would need the coverage.

“Take the airport job.” John wasn’t going to push his luck. After all, he was going to be living under the same roof as his son’s and that was more than he could have hoped for at least so soon. “And, Sammy doesn’t need your coverage,” Dean countered with a little venom in his voice. “Ivy Ridge doesn’t charge him anything and won’t … not even for his out patient rehab. And, his social worker found some funding for me to help with any medical expenses outside the rehab. And, I’ve got him as a dependant on my policy as back up.”

“Dependant?” It struck John for the first time that the outside world viewed Sam as different since his brain injury.

“Yeah, well, Sam doesn’t know,” Dean’s eyes were serious. “And he doesn’t need to know he’s listed as a dependant. I told him I was able to get him on my insurance, and he never asked how or why. It’s just with some of his cognitive delays they …” his voice trailed off. He didn’t like labels for Sam … he was Sammy. He walks and talks. He has the same sense of humor. He was Sam to him and nothing a medical professional or governmental busy body classified him as would define his little brother to him.

“They what?” John asked softly. Dean’s hard eyes softened for a moment, and then blazed again.

“They define him as cognitively delayed, okay? Like … handicapped, but I don’t want you to ever say anything to him. I know he may find out some time, but he doesn’t need to know. He’s had enough shit to deal with, and anyway, I’ll be damned I ever let him think he’s handicapped. He’s getting better every day.”

“Dean, I would never. And, anyway, I don’t care what they’re saying … he isn’t that at all. He’s a smart boy, he always was … still is,” he added with a gentle smile.

“Look,” Dean spoke suddenly. “I’m all talked out. I just want to stay with Sam tonight, and put this day behind me.”

“I’ll go back to my motel in Jefferson, okay? Would it be okay if I come back tomorrow afternoon? I want to set up my job first, and then spend some time with Sammy.” John decided he wanted to quickly lay as much ground work as he could to show Dean he was sticking around. He had to show Dean he could count on him, and he didn’t care how long it took.

“Yeah, whatever,” Dean groused. “Tomorrow’s Sunday, Sam has a full day of PT and other therapy. He’ll be busy most of the day.”

“Well, I’m willing to wait.”

“I gotta find some rentals tomorrow … I don’t know …” Dean hated the idea of his father being alone with his brother.

“Dean, you can trust me with him,” John assured. “I won’t upset him. If we’re going to make this work for ….” John paused. “For Sam’s sake,” he figured that was the only way Dean would relent then he’d use it.

“Yeah, fine,” Dean complained.

“Dean,” John spoke before his son could turn to head off to Sam’s room.

“What?”

“Maybe, if you speak to a local realtor they can point you to some house rentals.” John thought the suggestion would help Dean in his search, plus, shows he did have a vested interest in staying. Dean acknowledged him with a quick nod.

“Hey,” Dean’s voice was quiet. “You want to see him before you go? He’s probably asleep, but he’ll want to know if you said goodnight or something.” John smiled and nodded. It was a huge olive branch, and John was grabbing it. They walked into Sam’s room quietly and sure enough the younger Winchester had succumbed to sleep and had curled onto his side and was sleeping peacefully. John walked over quietly and bent over his son. He gently ran a hand over his son’s tousled dark locks, and he stirred ever so slightly. Dean watched his father with Sam very intently, and he wondered if this new tenderer John Winchester would disappear within in a few weeks. Dean would be watching, and the moment the man drops the ball he was going to kick him to the curb. And, deal with Sammy after the fact.

“Shh… Sammy,” John cooed and his son stilled under his touch. He bent down and kissed the top of his son’s head. “Night, Sammy. Sweet dreams,” he whispered. He stood up and nodded at Dean. “Night, son.” Dean looked hard at his father, but relented only slightly.

“Night.”

John Winchester walked across the parking lot feeling the tiniest flicker of hope, and he had Sam to thank for all of it. John still was amazed at the turn of events tonight, but could only manage to feel profound thankfulness for the open door his baby son had offered him. He was going to make this work. His mind went back to Sam’s room and knew right about now Dean was probably saying goodnight to his little brother as he went to bed in the sleeping chair he’d noticed earlier in the corner of the room. Tomorrow was going to be the first day of a new beginning or so he hoped, at least.

Time would tell.

One Month Later, Early October

Dean shuffled around the kitchen making coffee. The last month had been a major adjustment living with his father once again, and Sam was home now, too. The house he had found to rent was two blocks away from the library Sam had his occupational placement at three days a week. Sam had wanted to walk there as much as possible. Dean remembered he had walked him the first couple times, but Sam had complained and said he wasn't five and this wasn’t the first day of kindergarten. He had changed his hours slightly at the garage, so that he was still home when Sam left for the library. The weather had turned cold three weeks ago, and was rainy. The cold dampness in the air had a real bite that Dean hated. He was still trying to shake a case of bronchitis he had come down with a week and half ago. He had picked a family doctor for himself and Sam since it wasn’t feasible to get regular health care from an ER. And, the cough medicine he had been prescribed wasn’t really helping anymore, but he hadn’t taken a few days off to rest like the doctor had said to either. He coughed into his hand as he poured a cup of coffee.

“That cough sounds pretty tight, Dean,” John suggested as he walked into the kitchen. For John living in the house with his boys … especially Dean was like walking in a mine field. He had to place his steps very carefully, but without fail he always seemed to say the wrong thing. Perhaps, not so much because it was wrong, but just unwanted.

“I got it handled.” John watched his son sit down at the kitchen table. It had been a garage sale find and was in good shape, but most of all it had been cheap. Dean was all ready dressed in his blue mechanic jumpsuit for the garage.

“Yeah, I know you got it handled,” John replied. “It’s just your chest sounds pretty tight … maybe … you should take a sick day. I know Larry wouldn’t mind. And, your cheeks are flushed.”

“I’m fine,” Dean groused. He changed the subject. “It’s too cold for Sammy to walk to the library today can you drop him off? I got to be at work earlier today and can’t drop him myself.”

“Yeah, sure no problem,” John answered. John’s schedule was usually much earlier than even Dean’s, but today he had flipped hours with a guy who had a family thing at one of his kid’s schools. John had taken the job with Larry’s brother, Dan who owned his own shop on the other side of town near the airport. His usual hours started at six in the morning, and he was usually home by 3:30, and was always there to meet Sam when he came home or to pick him up. Sam had given both men the silent treatment when they had asked him to stay at the library until he could be picked up when he finished working because they didn’t want him coming home to an empty house.

Now, Sam had quickly equated that to we don’t want you to come home to an unsupervised house, and Sam quickly pointed out that he was an adult, and not some little kid. Sam already hated the fact that he had to where a medical alert bracelet that said he had a seizure disorder. Dean and John had both relented and allowed him to walk home alone, but he had to call them when he was leaving the library and when he got home. John remembered the day it was his turn to have phone duty, which meant it was his week to be Sam’s check-in person, and his mind recalled the day Sam had decided to be defiant and not call at all. John had checked his watch knowing that Sam finished his work at the library at 3:30, and his watch said it was 4:00.

He had called the library and spoke to Sam’s supervisor the head librarian that managed that branch. And, when she had said he left at 3:30 John had called his son’s cell and only got his voice mail. He had called home, and got no response … not even when he issued an order to pick up the phone on the answering machine. He remembered the cold panic that had suddenly filled his chest, had something grabbed his son, had he been hurt, or was he lying on the floor at home unconscious or dying from some new seizure. He had flown out of work that day simply saying something was wrong at home. He had burst in the back door running through the kitchen yelling Sam’s name only to discover his son sitting neat as you please on the couch with one leg tucked under his butt eating a handful of chips. That was the day he finally dropped the eggshell routine with Sam, and had yelled at him.

The incident never repeated itself, and John guessed it was because Sam had seen the raw fear in his father’s eyes as he burst into the room that day, and knew his action of defiance had been childish.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, Sammy,” Dean answered as his brother came into the kitchen.

“You lll…look sicker. You should sss…stay home.”

“No can do kiddo. I have two brake jobs on my docket today, and a transmission to work on. Look Sammy, I’m having Dad drop you at the library today, okay?”

“No, I want to walk.”

“Sam, look at the weather man. It’s cold and rainy. You don’t need to get sick.”

“I wear my jack…et with hood.” Dean just leveled a look on his brother. His little brother had not lost his stubborn streak since coming out of the coma all those months ago. It hadn’t been quite a year yet … since that fateful night with the demon and the car wreck.

“Sammy, you’re brother is right. The weather is nasty today and you’ve got no business walking two blocks in it to work.” John liked to call it work because he could see the glint Sam got in his eye when he said that word and his son was paid for his time. Sam only worked there three days a week from 9:00 to 3:30, but he enjoyed being around the books and helping out. John wondered if Sam missed school, but he seemed content with his occupational placement and doing his out-patient rehab.

“What…ever,” Sam complained with a crestfallen look on his face.

“Sammy, you got your med-alert on?” Dean asked as he tried to spot the silver bracelet. Sam would try to leave without it, but Dean and John had become very vigilant about making sure he wore it … just in case he had an episode. The medication had been doing a good job at preventing any additional break through seizures. “How about your pill … did you take it?”

“Yes,” Sam hissed his answer. He also flicked his arm at Dean to reveal his med-alert bracelet.

“That’s my boy,” Dean smiled. Sam just rolled his eyes and sat down for some cereal.

Later that Morning, Jefferson City Auto Repair

Dean sat by a wheel well filing down a metallic buildup on a rotor caliper on a tiny import car. He felt horrible, and hated to admit that his father and brother were right he should have taken the day off. Hell, it wasn’t like he didn’t have sick days earned at his job. He just seemed to save them in the event something happened to Sam and he needed to be with his brother. He felt hot, and like he was trying to breathe through a wet cheese cloth.

“Hey Dean,” Larry said as he walked into the part of the garage Dean was working in. “Geez, you look like road kill.”

“I’m good,” was Dean’s slightly raspy response. A coughing fit racked him and it felt like his chest was exploding.

“Doesn’t sound like it,” Larry studied Dean’s pale features, and flushed cheeks. “I think you should call it a day Dean. Take some time off. You’ve been sick almost a couple weeks now. No sense you running yourself into the ground.” Dean stood up from his seated position and suddenly realized that was the wrong choice. The room spun, and he put his hand on the car to steady himself. “Yeah, you need to go home, or maybe go back to the doctor kiddo.”

Dean coughed again, but this time getting air back into his lungs seemed a lot harder after he coughed. The feeling scared him. He fought to draw the air in and tight wheeze could be heard. “Riley,” Larry shouted as he helped Dean sit on the nearest stool. “Call 911!” Dean fought for his air like a drowning man as Larry kept a steadying hand on his shoulder.

“I got them on the phone,” Riley shouted. “An ambulance is on the way. They want to know what’s wrong.”

“Tell them he’s having a lot of trouble breathing.” Larry could see the ashen complexion beginning to show around Dean’s eyes, and the corners of his mouth were slightly blue as he fought to drag in a good breath. He noticed Dean’s fingernails, “Christ,” he hissed. “Tell them his fingernails are a little blue.”

When the paramedics arrived Dean was lying on the ground with Larry kneeling by him and the other men in the shop standing nearby. Dean was slipping in and out of consciousness as his battle to breathe was failing quickly.

“What’s his name?”

“Dean,” Larry answered. “Dean Winchester. He had a chest cold this last week or so, and now this happened. Feels hot, I’m pretty sure he’s got a fever.”

“Dean, I’m Mark. Dean, open your eyes,” the paramedic spoke as he and his partner opened Dean’s jump suit, and pulled his t-shirt up and cut it open. They placed electrodes to his chest to monitor his heart, and a pulse-ox clip to a finger to get his oxygen levels. Dean opened his eyes, as he attempted one last tight breath and his head lulled to the side. He was unconscious. “Dammit, he’s out,” Mark barked to Louise his partner.

“O2 levels are at 89.” Louise replied. Mark listened to Dean’s chest.

“He’s not moving any air. We gotta intubate.” Mark took the metal tongue blade and slid it into Dean’s mouth. “Jesus, I can’t see the anatomy markers … he’s swollen. Get me the fiber optic intubation kit.”

“I’m on it,” Louise replied as she sprinted to the ambulance. Mark began trying to ventilate Dean with an ambu bag while he kept track of the falling oxygen numbers. This guy needs oxygen, now! His mind was shouting. Louise ran back with the kit. Mark threaded the fiber optic scope through the swollen tissue, and got a clear view of what he needed to see and threaded the intubation tube down Dean’s throat.

“I’m in,” he shouted as he secured the tube with medical tape. He squeezed the bag attached to the tube, and Louise nodded as she checked for breath sounds in Dean’s lungs.

“Placement is golden. Equal breath sounds on both sides … oxygen levels are coming up.”

“Good, let’s get him loaded and roll.”

“Hey, what hospital?” Larry asked. “I gotta call his dad.”

“Capitol Region Medical Center. Tell him to go to the ER main desk.” Mark answered while he continued ventilating Dean as they rolled him toward the waiting ambulance. Larry nodded and the doors to the ambulance slammed closed and the siren wailed as it pulled out of the lot. Larry went straight to his phone in his office.

“Pro Care Auto,” answered a voice over the phone Larry recognized as his brothers.

“Dan? It’s me. I need to speak with John. His son Dean was just taken to the hospital.”

“Oh man, accident at work?”

“No, he’s sick … couldn’t breathe.”

“Let me get him.” Dan put the phone line on hold and ran to get John. “John,” Dan spoke as he walked into the back of the garage where John and Craig were doing an engine rebuild.

“Yeah,” John answered casually as he leaned back from the car. His senses immediately on alert at the sight of the man’s tense features … something was wrong.

“Yeah, they just took your kid to the hospital. Larry’s on the phone for you.”

“What? Sam? Why’s Larry calling?” John felt panic, god how bad could it be that Dean couldn’t call to tell me, and Larry was doing it? The question repeated in John’s head.

“No, man, it’s Dean.” John took off running to the phone. He snatched it up as he hit the hold button to release the line.

“Larry,” John barked. “What happened? Where did they take him?”

“John, he couldn’t breathe. They had to put a tube down his throat,” Larry’s nerves were on edge and he knew he wasn’t being very tactful in telling John what had happened. “They said they were taking him to Capitol Region, and to go to the ER main desk.” John’s heart was hammering against his ribs.

“Thanks Larry.” John hung up and cast a glance at Dan.

“Go, John don’t worry about anything. Just call when you can and let me know how things are, okay?”

“Thanks Dan.” John glanced at his watch it was a little after 11:00 in the morning, and he knew Sam was still at the library. He’d let him stay there until he knew more about Dean.

Capitol Region Medical Center, ER Main Lobby

John rushed into the ER. Traffic had been heavy and it took him almost twenty minutes to get to the hospital and another ten to park in the busy visitor parking lot. He strode up to the ER main desk, “I got a call … my son was brought in by ambulance about a half hour ago … Dean Winchester.”

“Let me look,” a young woman answered. “Yes, Mr. Winchester, your son is in trauma one right now with the doctor still. His attending physician is Dr. Riggs. Could you have a seat over there and as soon as they know something … someone will be out to speak with you. I’ll let them know you’re here.” John wanted to blow past the desk and go straight back there to see his son, but he’d wait. He sat with his hands folded in his lap while his leg nervously bounced up and own. His mind repeating what Larry had said he couldn’t breathe … they had to put a tube down his throat … John knew that meant that Dean had most likely stopped breathing all together. Dammit, I knew he sounded bad this morning. I should have forced the issue, he berated himself mentally.

Thirty Minutes Later

John saw a doctor that looked like he was in his early thirties walked toward the waiting area with a clip board. “Family of Dean Winchester.”

“I’m his father. How is my son?”

“Here,” the doctor pointed to an empty set of chairs away from the hustle and bustle of the ER. The doctor took a seat and John followed suit. “Your son arrived to us in respiratory failure. The paramedics were able to reestablish ventilation by intubating him with a breathing tube. He was initially unconscious when he arrived, but as his oxygen levels came back up he did wake up, however, he was fighting the breathing tube, so we have had to sedate him. He has a fever of 102, but we are managing that with fluids and some fever reducers.”

“But, how is he? He was getting over bronchitis from over a week ago … what happened? I know his cough sounded tight this morning.” John wanted answers quicker than he was getting them.

“Well, your son has himself a nasty case of pneumonia. His bronchitis was the catalyst to the pneumonia. Unfortunately, he has what in lay terms is called double pneumonia. He has consolidations in both of his lungs, and he was having to work too hard to get air in and out. We have put him on a ventilator in order to give his lungs a break. I plan on keeping him sedated for at least another 24 to 48 hours to give his body a chance to simply just rest. The tests show that he has what we call a staphylococcal variant of pneumonia. I have started him on an IV antibiotic called Oxacillin, and it should do the trick.” The doctor paused gauging John’s demeanor and continued when the boy’s father did not interrupt.

“The antibiotics should have a chance to get a foot hold while he is sedated and his body is at rest. He’s going to be moved up to ICU in a few minutes as soon as they have a bed prepared for him. I plan on keeping him there until we wean him off the ventilator. I’ll probably keep him on the vent for 2 to 4 days, but we’ll play it by ear. I suspect your son will be here for at least a minimum of 10 days.”

“You said the antibiotics should do the trick,” John hedged. “Is my son’s life in danger? I mean, what if this drug doesn’t work?”

“Mr. Winchester your son is young, and in excellent shape, minus his bout with the bronchitis that brought on the pneumonia. We’ll be doing some repeat chest x-rays to check the progress of the lungs as the infection abates. His type of infection reacts well to this drug, and I have every confidence that within a couple days we should be able to see some improvement with the lung infection.”

“So, he’s sedated?”

“Yes, and as I said I plan on keeping him that way for 24 to 48 hours. And, depending on how fast he shows some level of improvement … I may keep him sedated an additional day. The rest will allow his body a chance to regroup and the antibiotics to do their work. And, once he is weaned off the ventilator he’ll most likely be moved to a regular room and be able to leave the ICU.”

“May I see him?”

“Sure, I’ll take you to him. If you want you can even go up to the ICU with him when transport comes for him. I’ll be his attending physician. Actually, I was doing my ER monthly rotation today, but I’m normally splitting my time between ICU and other units.”

“Good,” John nodded. “My son…” John said rising from his chair.

“Oh, of course, follow me,” the doctor indicated the direction with an arm.

John walked into the curtained off area and his heart broke. Dean was pale and unmoving. He noted the multiple IV bags suspended on poles around his son. He saw the ventilator tube jutting from his mouth and couldn’t block out the unmistakable hiss of the machine as it made his son’s chest rise and fall mechanically. He noted the heart monitor wires snaking out from under the pale blue hospital gown, and he saw the white pulse-ox clip attached to his finger. “Dean,” John’s voice was soft and thick with emotion. “Hey sport … well … you’ve gotten yourself in a fine mess, haven’t you?” He reached up and stroked his son’s forehead feeling the warmth of the fever that burned. He looked at his son’s still features and noted how much he had changed since he had left all those months ago.

His hair had more length now, of course it wasn’t any close resemblance to the mop of head his youngest son had, but the over all length was longer and had begun to cover his ears a little. “You’re going to be fine son. I’m right here, and you’re going to be okay.” He held Dean’s hand nestled between both of his warm broad hands. John hated seeing Dean so weak and vulnerable. He had mentally prepared himself for Sam having problems, but he hadn’t seen this health crisis for his first born coming, and he felt off balance. The doctor walked in and indicated to John that Dean’s room was ready in the ICU and he followed his son up to the second floor. They rolled into ICU and John met eyes with the nurse busying herself with preparations in a room John surmised would be his son’s. And, when she turned around he recognized her immediately. “Sue?” She had been both Dean’s nurse and Sam’s after the wreck.

“Mr. Winchester,” her voice enthusiastic. “Well, I’d say it’s good to see you again, but given the situation …” John smiled at her. Sue helped transfer Dean to his bed, as another nurse continued to squeeze the bag attached to his breathing tube since they had to breathe for Dean during his transport because they had taken him off the ventilator in the ER to move him upstairs. John watched her consult paperwork for Dean’s ventilator settings and quickly had him hooked up to a ventilator that resumed breathing for him. “Pneumonia, huh?” she commented to John. “I can only imagine he ran himself into the ground, right? He’s got a hard head.” John chuckled.

“That he does. I think stubbornness is a family trait.” John glanced at his watch. Damn where had the time gone, he complained in his mind. It was all ready 3:00 and Sam would be leaving the library soon.

“Something wrong?” Sue asked as she noted his mild distress when he glanced at his watch.

“I need to step outside and make a call.”

“Sure, he’s fine. And, don’t worry about him waking up. I’m sure the doctor told you he’s been sedated.” John nodded.

Ten minutes later John walked back into the ICU. He had called Sam at the library and told him he was picking him up because they had stuff to do, and to wait for him. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to tell Sam about Dean … he’d do that in person. “Sue?” John said as he walked into Dean’s room.

“Yes?”

“I need to go pick up my other son, and we’ll be back in a short while, okay?”

“Sure,” Sue replied. “I wasn’t aware you had a third son.”

“Huh?” John was perplexed. “No, I just have Dean and Sam. I’m going to go get Sam. He’ll want to see his brother.”

“Sam?” Sue couldn’t believe what she was hearing. After all, everyone in the ICU knew the prognosis for Sam when he had left their care and went to the neurology unit.

“Yeah,” John answered casually. “I better get going. I wrote down my cell number should you need to contact me while I’m gone.”

“Okay,” Sue stared at the retreating back of the man. Her mind trying to process and still unwilling to accept that the Sam she had cared for was going to walk into this unit.

Jefferson City Public Library

John pulled up outside the library, and spotted Sam right away as he sat on a bench waiting for his father. John knew Sam hated the fact he wasn’t permitted to drive, and Dr. Myers had been frank in saying she may never be able to clear him for driving because of his seizures, and coordination issues affecting his reflexes. Sam stood and walked to his dad’s truck. “You need help?” John asked smiling. It was always a little more difficult for his son to get into the higher automobile … he was thankful his son was as tall as he was since it made it slightly easier for him to get in.

“No, I got it,” Sam answered easily, and John allowed himself a moment to relish the simple sentence that came out of is son’s mouth easily. Fluid speech seemed to happen more and more, but he still had problems. And, when Sam was upset his sentences still resorted to broken and fragmented blurbs. When Sam was inside the truck he turned to his father with expectant eyes and a smile.

“So where www…we going?”

“Sammy,” John began. “First, I want you to know he’s going to be fine, okay? The doctor said so.”

“Who?” Sam’s eyes were fearful.

“Sammy, Dean collapsed at work today. He couldn’t breathe.” John felt the tension rolling off his youngest child.

“Dean! Www…where is he? What wrong?”

“Sammy, you need to calm down. I don’t want you triggering a seizure, okay? It won’t do your brother any good for you to be flat on your back.” John reached out a comforting hand and grasped Sam’s shoulder. “The doctor said Dean has pneumonia. They sedated him, so he can rest. The doctor wanted to let his lungs rest … so they are breathing for him, okay? But, they said he’s going to be fine. It’s just going to take a few days.”

“I www…want to sss…see him.”

“I know,” John replied. “I’m taking you to the hospital with me.” They pulled onto the large property of the hospital and as they drove through toward the visitor parking Sam looked hard at the place as a memory stirred.

“Remember this place. Look familiar.” John spared a glance at his son as he drove into the visitor lot.

“It should,” John commented. “It’s the hospital they brought us all to after the crash. It’s where you had your brain surgery when you hurt your head.”

“I was in ccc…coma here?”

“Yes, until you were transferred to Ivy Ridge.”

John and Sam walked into the elevator and took it to the second floor. John slowed his strides so Sam didn’t feel left behind. He kept up, but if he tried to hurry his left side would sometimes have another idea, and he would stumble. “Sammy, they have your brother in ICU until they can remove the breathing tube, but don’t let it scare you, all right? I don’t want you to get upset. And, don’t forget … the doctor wants to keep Dean asleep for a couple days or so by keeping him sedated.”

“I be okay,” Sam pushed out a frustrated sigh. “I mean, I will bbb…be okay.” John smiled at his young son’s attempt to speak clearly.

“Hey kiddo, I know you’re worried, but your brother’s going to be fine. He’s just a little sick right now, but the medicine will help him.”

“I know.”

“You know,” John began. “You spent three weeks in this very ICU before they moved you to the third floor neurology unit.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

John and Sam walked into the ICU unit and John could feel eyes shift toward them, but everything got quiet, and it was the whispers that drew his attention up. He saw the stares of astonishment. They were all looking at Sam.

“Sam?” Sue’s voice could not mask the absolute shock. Sam turned and looked at her.

“Ah, Sam, this is Dean’s nurse Sue. Actually, she took care of you while you were in here.”

“Hi,” Sam offered his hand. “Thh…thank you for ttt…tak…ing care of me. And, fff…for my bro…ther.” Sue couldn’t help herself as she pulled Sam into an impromptu hug.

“Oh sweetie, it was my pleasure. I just …” she stared at Sam. Her memories were of an unconscious and unresponsive young man. This person was alive, and animated. Sam returned the hug … in some odd way he thought her voice sounded familiar. “Here, your brother is this way.” John stepped in behind his son to follow him into Dean’s room.

“How’s he doing?” John asked.

“His vitals are stable. He’s resting as you already know. At this point, we’ll just support him with the vent, meds and fluids. We’ll monitor him and his vitals. And, they will probably do a repeat chest x-ray tomorrow morning to see if his lungs are the same or worse.” John nodded.

“I’ll let you have some time. I’ll be back in a bit. He’ll be due for a vitals check.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh, you’re welcome.”

Sue walked back to the nurse’s station and heard the whispers. “Sue?”

“Yes,” she turned around and Dr. Kendrick was standing in front of her. He had been in ICU for a consult on another patient when he saw Sam walk in. He didn’t often remember faces of his former patients, but Sam had always stuck in his mind because he had never dealt with the size of hematoma Sam had had, and he remembered the family drama over his care and placement when he left the hospital. And, of course, he recognized the father … John Winchester had had countless meetings and consultations with him over Sam’s diagnosis and subsequent prognosis.

“Was that John Winchester and his son?”

“Yes, there here for his oldest son … bilateral pneumonia.”

“That was Sam Winchester?” He questioned. “The head injury from a few months back. Coma … persistent unresponsiveness?”

“That would be him.” She answered with a smile. “Miracles do happen,” she offered.

“I have to speak with his father. I’d love to get a scan of his brain. This shouldn’t be,” he commented. “There is no reason he should be functioning at this level.”

“Well, maybe not,” she offered. “But, if I’ve learned anything over the years doing this job it’s that the human body can pull off some amazing things, and that medicine isn’t always right.” She smiled. Dr. Kendrick nodded and walked toward Dean’s room.

“Mr. Winchester,” Dr. Kendrick stood at the door. “I know this isn’t probably the time, but when you have a moment could we talk?” Dr. Kendrick found himself staring at Sam as the young man turned his eyes from his unconscious brother to meet the doctor’s eyes. Sam acknowledged him with a nod, although he didn’t recognize the man, and returned to looking at Dean and holding his big brother’s hand.

“We can talk now,” John said rising from the chair he was sitting in. “Sammy, I’m going to go talk to the doctor for a moment. You stay with your brother.”

“Okay. I’m nnn…not lll…leaving Dean.”

John remembered the doctor, and there was a slow burn anger brewing in him. This man had said Sam was lost and that there was no hope for recovery. “I remember you Dr. Kendrick,” John’s voice held a deadly tone. The doctor took him into a consultation room for privacy.

“Mr. Winchester, I understand you’re upset.”

“Upset? No, that would not be the word I would choose. Maybe, enraged or how about good old fashioned pissed.”

“Your son Sam should not be walking and talking and there are another fifty neurologists that would back up my opinion based on his scans from when he was here.”

“And, all fifty of you would still be trying to decide whether to scratch your watch or wind your butt,” John retorted. “My older son said you were all quacks and that you were wrong about Sam… and he was right.”

“It’s all water under the bridge,” the doctor replied. “I can’t change my diagnosis, and based on what I saw with my own eyes back then my opinion remains the same. Your son should have never recovered from his non-responsive state. The brain injury was extensive.”

“Blah-blah,” John complained. “Well, it’s obvious he has moved far beyond being unresponsive. My son has battled back on a long road of rehab. He still goes to rehab. He has learned to walk and talk all over again. He is capable of self-care now, and as far as never having a meaningful recovery … he’s in his brother’s hospital room right now sitting with him and talking to him. I thank God your diagnosis was wrong, and no matter what you say or think it was wrong,” John spat. “And, I don’t want to hear that line of bull about based on the facts at the time … because another neurologist accepted my son to a rehab and knew he had a chance at some level of recovery. I actually allowed your words to influence my decisions for my child and I would have condemned him by putting him a long-term care facility.”

“Perhaps,” the doctor began. “I could use this as a learning case. I could take new scans of Sam’s brain to compare to his previous scans, and this would be a learning opportunity for myself and the neurology staff at the hospital.”

“Excuse me,” John hissed. “Did I just hear you right? You want my son to be your science experiment?”

“It wouldn’t be like that.”

“We’re finished here,” John said standing up. It was taking every fiber of his body to not cold cock this doctor into oblivion.

“But, Mr. Winchester,” Dr. Kendrick stood up from the table.

“Don’t,” John warned. “I want you to stay away from my son. You want to talk about his case and his improvements you call his doctor at Ivy Ridge, but you’re not laying a hand on him.”

“Maybe, I should speak directly with Samuel,” the doctor offered and paused. “I mean he’s competent to make his own decisions isn’t he? However, I did catch his speech deficit when he spoke to you.”

“My son isn’t handicapped if that’s what you’re getting at. I told you he’s had to relearn things and is going through rehab. You leave him the hell alone … you go near him and talk to him about any damn tests or scans … I will file charges against you.”

“No need for threats. I’m just fascinated with your son’s case. I’ll respect your wishes. I apologize.”

“He’s not a lab rat. Look, I know because of you my son didn’t die, okay? I know you’re the surgeon that did his surgery, but he’s been through enough…”

“I understand.” John nodded.

“I want to get back to my children now.”

“Of course.”

Meanwhile Dean’s ICU Room

Sam sat in a chair pulled closely to Dean’s bed. He held his brother’s limp hand in his own. “Hi Dean. It’s Sam.” He watched his brother’s face … it wasn’t that he expected him to open his eyes he understood that his big brother was heavily sedated, but it just seemed odd to see his brother so still. “Ddd…dad is ttt…taking care of things. I’m glad he’s here. I’m nnn…not sure I www…would be good at talk…ing to doctors. You’re going to be okay.” Sam watched the automatic rise and fall of Dean’s chest as the ventilator whooshed in the background. “You should have taken care of yourself.”

“You tell him Sammy,” John replied from the door with a smile.

“What doctor say?”

“Huh? Oh that doctor,” John hedged. “It wasn’t about your brother. It’s nothing important.”

“About me?”

“What? Why would you ask that?”

“Sue came in to check Dean,” Sam began. “I ask her who that doc…tor was … she said a neu … neur,” he shook his head in frustration. “A b…brain doc…tor.” John couldn’t help the small smile that crept across his face at his son’s quick solution to his pronunciation problem.

“He was your doctor. He operated on you. He couldn’t believe you recovered.”

“He say something? You look angry.” Sam commented.

“Sammy, just always remember that doctors aren’t always right, okay? And, sometimes you have to go against reason,” John replied. “Your brother never believed them when they said how sick you were … how bad your brain was hurt. They said you’d never walk or talk. That doctor didn’t think you’d ever even acknowledge your brother or me again. It’s just … I don’t want to go back to that time, all right? We’re beyond that now.”

“Okay.” Sam said simply and went back to watching Dean.

John and Sam sat with Dean until the sun had dropped and evening was encroaching. The eldest Winchester noticed Sam’s large yawn. “Hey, kiddo, I think maybe we should call it a night … get you home and in bed.”

“No, not leave Dean. Not tired.”

“Sam,” John replied. “Tomorrow is Thursday and you have rehab all day, and you’ll need your rest.”

“No rehab. Stay with Dean.”

“Sammy, Dean wouldn’t want you to exhaust yourself, and you know it. I’ll stay with Dean all day tomorrow while you’re in rehab, and then I’ll pick you up and bring you to see your brother. He’s not going to be waking up for a couple days at least the doctor said, so don’t worry that he’s waking up to an empty room.”

“Dad,” Sam’s pleaded.

“No, Sam,” John countered. “I want to stay with your brother too, but right now I have two children whose well-beings are my soul concern, and you know if you exhaust yourself you could trigger a seizure or make yourself sick. I don’t want two son’s in the hospital, okay? And, Dean wouldn’t want you to lose any rehab time and you know it.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, now say goodnight to your brother and we’ll head out. I want to get some food into you, and then I want you in bed.” Sam nodded.

“Dean?” Sam leaned down toward his brother. “Dad’s making me go home to eat and sss…sleep. You rest and get better.” He reached down and smoothed back the hair from his brother’s forehead. “See you tomorrow.” He gave his brother’s hand a gentle squeeze and released it. John patted Sam on the back.

“I’ll be right out Sammy. I’ll meet you by the desk.”

“Yes, sir.”

“How about ‘yes, Dad,’ I’m your father not your drill sergeant anymore,” he said with a smile. He was awarded with a dimpled lopsided grin from his baby son.

“Yes, dad.” John nodded with approval.

“Well, sport … I hate to leave you, but I know you’d want Sammy home. I’ll be back tomorrow morning as soon as I drop your brother at rehab. You fight this infection Dean. You hear me? Your brother and I both need you.” John still frowned at the sight of the breathing tube, but it was a necessary evil because without it his son would not survive. “Sleep well son.” He leaned down close to Dean’s ear, as a hand pushed back his hair gently, “I love you Dean,” he whispered into his firstborn’s ear. He kissed the top of Dean’s head, “Sweet dreams.” John left the room crossing Sue’s path. “If there’s any change or I’m needed I’ve left my home and cell numbers.”

“Yep, they’re both noted in his chart. I’m off in an hour and his night nurse will be Bianca.”

“Thanks. I’ll be back in the morning.”

“Okay, goodnight Mr. Winchester.”

“You too, Sue.”

The Winchester House, Midnight

John was pulled from his sleep by a vivid nightmare with one word on his lips, Dean. The dream was still fresh in his mind and the memories of it assaulted him. He remembered Dean and there was a complication … he saw a flurry of activity around his son, and Dr. Riggs’ sad eyes as he said they had lost him. He grabbed the phone next to his bed and dialed the number on the paper he placed on his nightstand. “ICU,” a quiet voice responded.

“Hi, this is John Winchester,” he struggled to remember the name of the night nurse, but couldn’t. “I’d like to speak to the nurse for Dean Winchester. I’m his father.”

“Sure, one minute.”

“Hello, Mr. Winchester this is Bianca …what can I do for you?”

“I know it’s late, but I just wanted to check on my son Dean.”

“It’s never too late,” Bianca replied. “Dean is stable. His oxygen levels and blood pressure are fine. His fever has dropped, and was at 100 when I checked it an hour ago. He is resting comfortably.”

“Good, I just…”

“You don’t need an excuse to call Mr. Winchester he’s your son and you’re worried it’s completely understandable. Is there anything else you’d like to know?”

“Earlier Sue mentioned they might do another chest x-ray tomorrow to see if his lungs are the same or worse has that been scheduled?”

“Yes, he’s scheduled for a portable chest x-ray at 8:00 AM. He won’t even have to leave his room … they’ll bring the x-ray to him.”

“Okay,” John replied. “I’ll be there in the morning after I take care of some things.” He had to wait until he dropped Sam off at 9:00 AM for rehab in Elston and then drive back into the city.

“Sure, parents are welcome 24/7 except during nurse report times, and then they usually ask you to leave,” she paused. “Report times are from 6:00 AM to 7:30 AM, and 6:00 PM to 7:30 PM.”

“Yep, I remember, but thanks for reminding me.”

“No problem Mr. Winchester.”

“Thanks, Bianca was it?”

“Yep that’s right.”

“Thanks Bianca, and don’t forget my numbers are with Dean’s chart if you need me for anything at all.”

“Sure thing.”

John hung up the phone and clicked his side lamp off dropping the room into darkness. He lay back down for a moment and then he felt the urge to check on Sam. He walked quietly down the hallway of the three bedroom ranch Dean had rented. The rent in Jefferson City was fairly cheap, and they were able to get a lot for their rent money. Dean had looked at several houses and decided on this three bedroom two bath brick ranch that was on a suburban city street and was only two blocks from Sam’s library placement. And, it was a close commute for himself and for Dean when they worked. It was a nice house for the boys and himself. They hadn’t had a real home like this since before Mary had died.

He padded quietly down the carpeted hall, and was glad that Sam hadn’t closed his door all the way, but had left it cracked just a little. He was careful not to wake his youngest son. He stood over by Sam’s bed and watched him sleep. He assured himself of the gentle rise and fall of his son’s chest in sleep, and was comforted by the fact that his sleep looked peaceful. His hand gently skimmed the top of Sam’s head careful not to wake him. John smiled and before leaving he resituated a blanket that had fallen off Sam’s chest. He covered him back up carefully, and left the room closing the door slightly behind him.

Four Days Later, ICU

John sat by Dean’s side in the ICU. He had dropped Sam off at the library insistent that Dean would want him to be there. And, partly John wanted to spend some alone time with his son. Sam had completed his Thursday and Friday rehab days, and his entire weekend had been by Dean’s bedside until John had pulled him out and taken him home. The doctor had told John that he would be stopping the sedation early on the morning of the fourth day and John wanted to be there when Dean woke up. The ventilator was still in place the doctor saying he’d feel better giving Dean another couple days on it to rest his lungs. The antibiotics were doing their job, and Dr. Riggs had said he was happy with Dean’s progress.

It was a little after 9 AM when John felt a twitch inside his hand, and he looked down to see Dean’s fingers move ever so slightly. He looked up and Dean still appeared to be asleep. “Dean? It’s dad … can you hear me kiddo?” And, there it was a flicker as Dean’s eyes moved under his closed eyelids.

“Dean?”

Slowly, Dean’s eyes opened and focused on his father’s face. And, then his eyes panicked and he began to thrash at the intrusion he felt in his throat. He felt like he was choking to death. The heart monitors beeped out a staccato rhythm as he fought the intubation tube. “Dean, no,” John stood up holding his son’s hands away from the tube. “Don’t fight your breathing tube. Just relax son … its okay.” His voice was oddly soothing and Dean relaxed. “You have pneumonia Dean,” John spoke softly. “You’ve been sedated for a little while. You won’t be able to speak until they remove the tube, and that won’t be for another day or so. You’ve been in the hospital three days now … today is morning of day four. You’re going to be fine and the doctor says the antibiotics are working.” John rubbed a hand across Dean’s hand reassuringly. John watched as Dean’s eyes moved around the room, and then became wide and panicked, and he knew without words what Dean needed to know about. “He’s fine Dean. Sammy’s okay. He’s been here everyday. And, I thought it best to get him out of here for a while, so he’s at the library.” John saw Dean visibly relax and he nodded his approval to Sam keeping his schedule.

“That brother of yours would stay a permanent fixture in your room if I let him. And, don’t worry,” John began. “I’m making sure he’s taking his medication and wearing his bracelet whenever he’s out of the house.” Dean nodded again. John could see Dean’s eyes droop in exhaustion. It was apparent that the adrenalin surge he had experienced upon waking had dropped off leaving only drowsiness behind. “Close your eyes son and rest,” John soothed. “I’m not going anywhere.” Dean allowed his eyes to close and despite his feelings over the past months toward his father he felt comforted by his father’s voice and went to sleep.

Dean had woken up for small moments throughout the morning and afternoon. He had even seen Sue once and had acknowledged her with a small wave. John looked at his watch and knew he’d have to head out soon to pick up Sam from the library. He felt lucky that he didn’t have to worry about work since both Dan and Larry had been wonderful and said to take off whatever time you need. Larry and the fellows from the garage had even sent flowers, but because of the rules of ICU no patients were permitted flowers in their rooms, but they were kept on display at the nurse’s station. “Dean?” John spoke softly as gently rubbed a thumb across his forehead. “Son, can you hear me?” Dean stirred … his eyes opening to thin slits. “Dean?” His father’s soft voice pulled him closer to waking. “Hey, there kiddo,” he said with a gentle smile when he saw Dean wake and focus on him. “Dean, I didn’t want you to wake up to an empty room, but I have to go pick-up your brother from the library, and it takes a little bit to get there. I’ll bring him back here and you can see him.”

Dean offered a small nod. “Now, close your eyes and get some more rest, okay?” John urged and Dean readily complied. He was asleep again within moments. Sue came in to check his vitals once again. “Hey, Sue. I gotta pick-up Sam,” he started. “I told him, but he fell asleep so quick he may not remember, so if he wakes again and we’re not back yet, please just remind him I getting Sam.”

“Will do.” Sue replied.

Hospital, Seven Days Later

“I still don’t know why I need a friggin’ wheelchair,” Dean huffed. “I can walk on my own.”

“Dean, it’s hospital policy,” John answered. “Here Sam,” John handed Sam a plastic hospital bag with the words: Patient Belongings in blue and the blank information areas were filled in … Patient name: Dean Winchester, Room 2214.

“Well, how much longer do I gotta wait for some orderly to come push me out of here? I mean come on we’re in the lobby now and the doors right there.”

“Patience is a virtue Dean,” Sue chimed in from behind him.

“Sue?” Dean looked at her curiously.

“In the flesh,” she quipped. “I heard we were finally kicking your stubborn,” she lowered her voice and leaned in, “stubborn ass out of here today. I took my break and volunteered to wheel you out myself.” Dean smiled. He had come to depend on Sue a lot when Sammy was hurt and she had always been straight with him and kept his head in as good a head space as he could have had considering.

“The car’s out front. They’re letting me park there because you’re being discharged.” Over the past few days Dean had come to an amicable truce with his father. He had proven himself this time around, but Dean still wasn’t sure how long it would last. He still didn’t trust him, but he was glad for him, otherwise Sammy would have been alone for the eleven days he’s been in the hospital. John walked ahead to get the Impala ready. He thought the car would be the easiest to get Dean home in and Sam could sit in the back.

“Now, Dean, I know the doctor went over your discharge instructions, and gave you some follow-up meds. Now you take them, and he said take another full week off for bed rest before going back to work. I don’t want to see your handsome mug back in this place unless it’s a social call you got it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he replied.

“Ma’am, oh lord, I’m not ready for retirement yet … just call me Sue and none of the ma’am stuff.” Dean nodded. “Okay,” she said as she slowed the wheelchair and stopped by the car. “You’re all set.” She looked at John. “Make sure he takes his meds and stays in bed.” John nodded. She turned to Sam. “Hey, Sam … you make sure that brother of yours does what he’s supposed to do.”

“I will. Bbb…bye Sue.”

“Bye sweetie.” Sam blushed and looked away self conscious of the heat filling his cheeks.

Dean laughed. “Sammy and Sue sittin’ in a tree…” Sam reacted before he could stop himself as he cuffed the back of his brother’s head knocking it forward slightly from the impact. “Hey, sick person here,” Dean complained.

“Sss…sorry,” Sam offered quickly.

“You pay him no mind Sam. He had it coming to him.” She said with a smile.

“Hey!” Dean countered. Sue just rolled her eyes and looked up to John. John held the door open and Dean slid into the front seat and John closed it once Dean was seated. Sam climbed into the backseat closing his own door.

“You’ve got your hands full with these boys … don’t you?” Sue said quietly for John’s ears only. He smiled at her and just as quietly replied …

“You have no idea.” He smiled. Sue smiled and waved as the Impala pulled away. John had both his boys with him, and he was so happy that Dean was going home, and that Sammy had his big brother back. The house seemed empty without both his boys filling it. John was hopeful for the possibilities that may have opened up because of this hospital stay … he felt hope that he and Dean may finally be on the same road … he wasn’t giving up and was determined to earn Dean’s trust again.