-1Bar Fights and Bullets

Dean has always saved Sam, protected him and been his keeper, this time was no different… But the aftermath was, No Demon, no spirit, no witch, just one life changing dose of reality… Can Dean learn to live with the limitations now placed on him? Once the warrior and the strength of the Winchester brothers, can he relinquish his title as the protector and accept the hand that fate has dealt him? Can Sam deal with the guilt of knowing what he caused? Can he pick up the shattered pieces of his broken family and learn to live again?

One thing is for sure,…. The winds of change have blown through the lives of the Winchester brother's and left everything they knew in shambles… There is no faith healer, no magic cure, nothing that can save them from the grips of reality… not this time.

Chapter 1

Sam stood outside the door separating him from his brother and leaned back against the wall closing his eyes, the past three months and eleven days flashing through his tired mind like a montage…

Hospitals.

Pain.

Dean.

Destruction.

Devastation.

Helplessness.

He swallowed hard his nostrils flaring as he resisted the urge to punch something, anything, the anger inside him seemed to boil so hard these days, he wondered if it was ever going to simmer down, if he was ever going to be able to look at himself in the mirror again… Without feeling nauseated with disgust. He wondered if he was ever going to be able to look his brother in the eyes again, after what he had done… But most of all he wondered the same thing he wondered every second of every day since that horrible night…

How he was going to make it from one minute to the next…

His self pity filled thoughts were interrupted by the sounds once more filling his ears of his brothers breathless pants on the other side of the door. He could hear curse words escaping Dean's lips in a low whisper, laced with frustration, anger and annoyance… He could hear the small clanks of things moving about the floor, and wondered exactly what he would find behind door number one today…

Even though for the most part he already knew the answer…

Clearing his throat he turned to face the horribly colored brown door that lead into his brother's room of the apartment they now found themselves renting,…. With everything that happened, everything that now was, there was no way they could continue their lives as they were before… Hotel hopping and pool hustling…

Putting his hand on the knob he looked down and willed it to stop shaking, this was not the first time this scenario had occurred, in fact it was the twenty-eight… no twenty-ninth time something like this had happened, and he knew it was not going to be the last.

He had to learn to bone up, to face this reality, his reality, the consequences for his actions….

A deep breath entered his lungs and then was quickly released as he turned the knob and pushed the door open…

There was Dean sprawled out on the shaggy beige carpet, making his way centimeter by centimeter toward his destination, determination stretched across his stone like features, beads of sweat working there way down his forehead…

The muscles in his arms were bulging with each push and pull, grunts involuntarily escaping his lips….

Sam cleared his throat and crossed his arms over his chest masking the look of concern on his face with a look of disapproval, hiding the tone of sympathy he wanted to carry with one more angry… The doctor's told him he was going to have to be firm, be strong, and forceful…

All of which were qualities he was not the best at expressing, all of which were qualities usually found in Dean's department of this brotherhood….

So now as he looked down at his brothers pathetic form on the floor, placed before him like an injured animal determined to run and hide, he thought about Dean, and what Dean would have done in this situation, and did as best he could to imitate his actions…

His foot tapped heavily on the carpet and his throat cleared again louder this time, as he narrowed his gaze…

Dean's tired hazel eyes looked from his destination still a good six feet from where he lay, to his brother and he quipped his voice defiant, " Got a frog in your throat there Sammy boy?"

"Yeah, and a pain in my ass…" He closed the gap between the two of them shaking his head as he leaned down. "Why the hell didn't you call me when you woke up? Why do you insist on trying to do this yourself?"

"Because it's mine to deal with…" Dean felt Sam's hand on his arm and jerked away, "I don't need you to wipe my ass alright? I'll figure this out,"

"You really are a stubborn bastard you know that don't you?"

"Yeah well…"

"You'd make this whole routine so much easier on the both of us if you'd just-"

"Just what Sam? Just role over? Just accept this pansy ass life style? Just let you take care of me like I'm some damn imbecile?"

"Just because you need a little help doesn't make you an imbecile."

"Says you…"

"That's right, and I'm your brother, so it should matter what I say…." Sam was trying as best he could to keep it up, but the more their conversation progressed the guiltier he felt…

"It doesn't…"

"Thanks…" Sam ran his hand over his face and rose back to a standing position, "prick."

"bitch."

"You really need to come up with some new material you know that don't you?" Sam made his way across the room and retrieved the devise toward which his brother had been heading bringing it closer to the bed.

"Why should I come up with something new when the classics still get you worked up every time?"

"I do not get worked up…"

"Sure you don't…"

"I don't." Sam grunted as he bent down again carefully lifting his brothers already substantially lighter form into his grasp.. One hand under his knees and the other around his back.

"SAM!" Dean attempted to protest.

"It's easier this way… and faster."

"Yeah, well you tell anyone and I'll have your ass…"

"Yeah… yeah I know…" He smirked placing Dean into the confining metal contraption that had now become his permanent means of mobility… Vomit was once more rising into his throat a sickening feeling devouring his senses…

A wheelchair… His brother, the strongest, healthiest human being he had ever known, was now confined to live his life… Well his new life, in this damn monstrous contraption… And it was all Sam's fault..

He shook his head a little as he crouched lower to strap his brothers feet in, a motion that Dean took note of right away….

"You okay?" His brow cocked and his head tilted as he studied the slender and recently paled form that was his baby brother, he was really worried about him, but every time he asked him how he was… every time he tried to get inside his head, Sam would simply do as Dean had always done and played the 'I'm Fine' card….

"I'm fine…" Ding. Ding, ding there it was… Dean simply rolled his eyes and ran a hand over his face… "Yeah okay Sammy, whatever you say… but you do know that eventually we are going to have to talk about this,"

"Whatever dude."

"Yeah sure whatever."

The two of them then made their way out to the front of the two bedroom apartment, Sam lazily standing behind his brother pushing him, lost once more in his thoughts… That seemed to be the only place he found any comfort anymore, was inside his head,.. The memories of what used to be blanketing his soul like a protective shield against the cold winters of what now was… And what could never be again…

He would find his mind wondering back to days not to long ago… His brother at the wheel of the 1967 Impala, the radio blasting as they make there way from city to city hunting evil and living a life on the edge… it was… perfect… a sick and twisted fairytale for a Winchester in many ways….

But then his thoughts would always falter always change and take him to that night… The night that everything changed, it wasn't in the woods, they weren't battling a demon… No this was something even scarier than all of those things combined and it sent a chill down Sam's spine every time he thought about it, which was everyday of his life.

3 Months 11 days and 9 hours earlier

Sam didn't want to go… Once again he was being drug out to a local bar against his will, after the long and endless day they had had hunting a local vengeful spirit, all Sam really wanted to do was sleep… But Dean would have none of it….

So now here they were pulling up to 'Jack and Jim's Firehouse' the only bar in the shit splat town of Ottoville Ohio…

"Dude, this place is a dump…" The younger Winchester complained his voice coming out in a whine.

"Yeah well, I'm sure the beer still tastes just as good…" Dean pulled the keys from the ignition and stepped out of the Impala sliding his hands into his pockets and heading in…

For as small of a town as Ottoville was, the bar contained quite a few locals, "Wow, lookit all the hicks." He mumbled half to himself and half to his brother who was now on his heels, the two of them making there way toward the bar.

An older man, who dean guessed to be somewhere around forty-five and fifty, probably the bars owner was standing behind a small counter top and array of alcoholic beverages behind him… "What can I getcha?"

"Whatever you got on draft will do." Dean slid on to one of the empty stools and motioned for his brother to do the same..

Sam however was to busy scanning the crowd, it always amazed him to look at all the different types of people in every city they traveled to… Sometimes it was like entering a whole new world…

"Hey." Dean shifted to look at him, "You cruzin for a hook up? Or you gonna drink your beer they're charging me damn near six bucks for?"

"Charging you?" Sam smirked finally taking his seat and picking up the credit card in front of his brother, "Or charging Dr. James Freely?"

"Very funny, how many times do I have to tell you Sammy every penny we spend is hard earned, credit card fraud is not easy… The more we do it the more difficult it gets…"

"Yeah sure, and you waist it on beer?"

"A man's gotta have some joys in life doesn't he?"

"You have far to many!"

"I work hard… So therefore I play hard, there's nothing wrong with that!"

"Whatever you say man…"

"Hey… I'm injured here you know? Have a little sympathy for me would you." He quipped referring to his now bandaged right arm… "That bitch threw me kinda hard into the staircase man."

"Cry me a river…" Sam shook his head.

"You know what this means though don't you?"

Sam shook his head immediately his eyes growing wide… "Dean No."

"Come on Sammy, I can't do it, and these cards are nearly maxed, you know how long it takes to get new ones!"

"Dean I said no!"

"And I said yes." The older of the two spun around on the barstool and glanced toward the only pool table in the place where two over sized gentlemen were currently playing, they looked like Dean's typical target, trucker hats, unshaven, bend over and crack a smile moronic locals.

"You know I suck at hustling pool…"

"You mean to tell me you can't beat Fred and Barney over there?"

"It's been years man, you're the con artist not me…."

"Yeah, but dad taught us both, and it's just like riding a bike…"

"Yeah only ten thousand times more illegal…"

"Well if you got a better idea lets here is college boy…"

Sam sighed deep and loud and Dean watched as his shoulders slumped over in defeat, he knew he had won once again.

"That's my boy…"

"Prick." Sam mumbled getting up from his seat and grabbing his beer before making his way over to the before mentioned pool table, doing his best to put a confused look on his face.

Present Day

"So…" Sam tried as best he could to sound nonchalant as he stood over the stove cooking breakfast for his brother and himself his back turned to Dean as he drew his lip into his mouth. "I uh, just happened to be looking through the phone book this morning, and saw an add for a-"

"No." Dean cut him off taking a sip of his coffee.

"You don't even know what I was going to say man…"

"Okay." Dean rolled his eyes already knowing exactly what Sam was going to say, going to suggest but playing along just the same.

"I saw an add for a physical therapist that looked like it might be worth checking out…"

"No" Dean repeated.

"Come on man, the add says he's one of the best in the country…" Sam approached the table carrying two plates of eggs and toast.

"I told you I don't need those quacks, I'm going to figure this out and get back on my feet my own way…"

"Dean." Sam began his eyes saddening. "Your muscles are already beginning to deteriorate and I know-"

"You don't know." His brother grunted just having put his first bite of egg into his mouth as he slammed his fork back on to his plate. "Damn-it why do you always do this?"

"Do what? I'm concerned about you that's all…"

"Well don't be alright? I'm fine… Everything is fine, Everything is going to be fine! I'll figure it out…Now can we please just have a normal breakfast like every other family on the damn planet?"

Sam's head bobbed up and down his gaze staying on his brother's tense form across the table, the tension between the two of them so thick it was worse then an LA fog…

"Stop looking at me like that.." Dean grunted his own eyes now on his plate, his knuckles growing white as he re-gripped his fork.

Sam's head dropped and he closed his eyes a shutter engulfing his body as he went back to eating…