A/N: I'm back, finally! Sorry for the long wait but I really couldn't find any time to finish this and also my internet wasn't working for a couple of weeks but enough of the excuses; here is how the story continues. I also just wanted to say thanks for the nice reviews real quick, I felt very humbled and I hope you like the rest:)

Sam's POV

'Don't worry Sammy, just a little werewolf hunt. We'll be back in no time, you'll see' "Little hunt, my ass", Sam mumbled pacing the motel room floor furiously.

4 hours and 32 minutes. That's how long Dean and his Dad had been gone now, which was way too long for a little werewolf hunt.

And even the expression 'little hunt'. That sounded as if the little ones were easy and thus less dangerous which was definitely not the case and Dean- of all people- should know that. There are just no easy hunts out there.

Sometimes Sam really would like to knock some sense into his brother, with a punch to the face for example. He hated this attitude: 'Don't be such a baby, Sammy. I'm fine nothing happened' Yeah right, nothing but some bruised ribs and a sprained ankle from when a spirit tossed you through an old window. 'It's only a slight concussion, nothing to worry about' Oh it's only a slight concussion, right what was I thinking.

Sam just couldn't understand it, constantly risking your life and looking death right in the eye. And for what? The ego? Sometimes it seemed like that, like Dean just wanted to prove himself to his Dad. Who wasn't any better by the way, but probably ten times worse.

It was so nerve wracking and Sam hated it, because he was always the one waiting. Waiting and praying that everything went alright, that no one got hurt, that they wouldn't have to bury another family member.

And maybe it wasn't just always the worry bugging him. He also felt left out. It always seemed like he wasn't part of the invincible team, or even part of the family. Like he was just weighing them down and making them weaker.

This hunt as well, Sam had begged his Dad to tag along, to do something important that matters. But he had said no, just plain no. 'Next time Sam, you are not well trained enough yet' that's what his Dad had said. But Sam was making progress and he had gotten a lot better, his Dad just didn't seem to see it. Maybe he didn't want to. Why should he, Dean was the perfect hunter and great back-up. No need for additional burdens.

It made Sam so mad sometimes. All he was good for was research. 'Research is the most important part of a hunt.' Yeah nice try, Dean.

Sam's eyes wandered over to the clock for the 50th time in the last 2 minutes.

2:11am

He let himself fall onto the chair he's been sitting on for the last few hours. His homework assignment laying forgotten on the table. His eyes landed in the phone on his father's nightstand. Maybe he should try to call them. But Sam hesitated. The last time he had called his Dad on a hunt, he had gotten one hell of a lecture afterwards, because apparently they had been hiding from some creature at that very moment and the ring tone had given them away. After Sam had argued that it was John's own fault if he hadn't put the phone on mute, he ended up with a grounding and extra training every morning for a couple of weeks.

Sam decided to keep waiting for a little bit. He was probably just overreacting.

John's POV

'Dear God, if you're out there. I really could use some help right now!' John thought while stumbling through the dark forest, one hand still securely wrapped around his son's torso.

At this point he wasn't supporting Dean anymore though; he was simply dragging him forward. At least he was still conscious, John could tell from the occasional grunts, which gave him a little bit of hope.

Luckily Winchesters are very stubborn SOB's, because by now John was moving forward out of sheer will power. Still he could feel the adrenaline wearing of and thus his strength leaving him. Just as he almost fell again he decided to take a short break.

"Alright buddy let's slow down for a second" He gently laid Dean down onto the cool ground, so that he was leaning against a tree trunk. John slumped down opposite of his son. They sat in complete silence the only sound both of their panting breaths.

John mustered his son. The walk had visibly exhausted him. His bloodshot eyes stood out against his ashen face. Even from the distance the oldest Winchester could see the blood dripping from Dean's mouth and his hands, that were still trying to hold the blood soaked bandages into place.

John checked his watch. 2:11 am

Bobby should be there in the next couple of minutes. Well there, at the car. John had no idea how far it still was until they would reach the Impala.

'Well done Winchester' John sighed and hauled himself back up to crouch down in front of Dean. "It can't be far anymore and Bobby will be here soon. You ready to keep going?" he asked softly. He could see Dean was not understanding one word he was saying, only half-conscious and too focused on the constant pain. So John didn't wait for an answer and against Dean's soft protest's he brought him back into a standing position.

They kept going for a couple of minutes before Dean slumped against his father completely unconscious.

"Hey buddy, wake up". John shook Dean slightly, but got no response. "Common Dean". He took his son's face in his hands. Still nothing. "Common you have to wake up". John got more and more desperate by the second but Dean still wouldn't move one bit. "Common…common" he muttered padding his son's cheek.

"Dean common!" he shouted right into his son's face. Panic started to erupt in his body. 'Stay calm you have to focus' he told himself but the fear was making his heart beat way too fast and it felt like he was suffocating, until he heard a distant shout: "JOHN…JOHN WHERE ARE YOU?"

John's eyes shot up. "Bobby", he mumbled. "BOBBY WE'RE HERE". He turned his head around trying to find their rescuer between the dense undergrowth.

Finally he could make out a figure approaching. John stumbled forward, his vision swimming from the tears in his eyes.

As soon as Bobby reached them, he threw an arm around Dean's hips to take the weight off of John. "I can't get him to wake up, Bobby…he won't wake up…" John said frantically.

Bobby knew the situation was bad; still he was a little shocked seeing the mighty John Winchester, who didn't know feelings, like this, with tears running down his cheeks barely able to stand on his own two feet. It seemed like he still did have a heart, even though he liked to pretend otherwise.

But Bobby wasn't judging. He was more concerned about Dean to think about anything else right now. The boy was as pale as a ghost and if Bobby hadn't felt the steady pulse on his neck he would have claimed him dead.

"Don't worry, John. Dean is still breathing and the car isn't far away" Bobby reassured the upset father. John just replied with a short nod. Bobby adjusted his grip on Dean's waist and they kept going.

John could have cried tears of joy when he could finally spot the Impala in the distance, next to Bobby's rusty truck. John and Bobby were both utterly exhausted when they finally reached the vehicles, but there was no time to rest. Dean needed help, immediately.

With trembling hands, John tried to unlock the car door. "Let me" Bobby said and took the keys out of John's hands. He handed Dean over and opened the back doors. "Go with him into the back seat. I'll drive", Bobby ordered and helped John load his injured son into the Impala. After that he hurried around the car to take the seat behind the steering wheel.

The drive to the hospital was painfully long. In the rear-view mirror Bobby could watch John caress Dean's cheek. It was weird seeing John like this. Like the loving father he always should be. It was even weirder seeing Dean laying there completely still, the boy who usually never sits still, not even for a couple of minutes. His face most of the time drawn into a cocky grin, was all expressionless. Just a small frown because of the pain he had to bear for way too long now. Bobby focused back on the street and pressed the accelerator further down.

After what felt like two eternities they could finally see the hospital sign in the distance. The Impala came to a skittering halt right in front of the entrance. John registered Bobby jumping out of the car and yelling stuff. After that everything ended up in one big blur of people shouting, paramedics approaching them, his son being taken away on a stretcher, different people asking questions, forms being filled out, a woman constantly talking about insurance. But John didn't want to hear any of that. He wanted to know if his son was OK. A doctor talked to them, but John didn't comprehend anything of what he said. He just knew his son was in surgery and it wasn't looking good.

Somehow he and Bobby ended up in the waiting area. He didn't know what time it was. Actually he wasn't sure about anything. The only thing on his mind was his son fighting for his life behind those doors.

John was glad Bobby was still with him. It was comforting to have a clear mind around. Well clearer than his right now.

4:39am that's what the clock said. For about 2 hours they had been sitting on the way too hard chairs in the waiting area now. Not a single soul walking by. It seemed like the whole hospital was resting. There were also no news on Dean's condition which was making John more restless by the minute.

"Ima go get some coffee" Bobby mumbled suddenly standing up and stretching his tired limps. John didn't reply, just kept staring onto the opposite wall. When Bobby was about to turn around the corner John finally said: "Thank you Bobby" who turned back around to face the oldest Winchester. He hesitated shortly. "Don't thank me yet, you don't know what's gonna come" and headed off to the cafeteria. John sighed and leaned back in his chair.

He almost dozed off when suddenly the door to the waiting area opened again. The worried father shot up, expecting the doctor with some news about his son. Instead there was a mother entering the room one arm wrapped around her son, who couldn't be older than 11 or 12. The woman greeted John with a curt nod. The boy didn't even seem to notice the oldest Winchester. He just miserably eyed the white cast steadying his arm. With his brown curls and the skinny frame he reminded John a lot of…

"Sam", John murmured his mind sobering up immediately. He had been so occupied with worrying about his oldest that he had totally forgotten his youngest, still waiting back in the motel room. He was probably worried sick by now.

In one motion John fished his cell phone out of his pocket and dialled the number of the phone he had left in the motel room.

"Dad is that you?" Sam's distressed voice greeted him. "Yes it's me…" "Where the hell are you guys? I've been waiting for hours. Did you finish the job? You're OK, right? Everything is alright, right?..." Sam didn't stop babbling. "Woah Sam slow down. Yes we finished the hunt", John replied. "So you're gonna come home soon", Sam sighed in relief.

"No Sam", John hesitated. "We can't… the hunt didn't exactly go as planned…"

"What do you mean didn't go as planned", Sam asked carefully. John sighed "I was able to kill the werewolf…but not before it got Dean." He was greeted with silence.

"Sam, are you still there?"

"How is he, Dad?" His sons voice sounded calm but John knew he was furious inside and only not shouting at him because he was too worried about his big brother. "He is still in surgery", John explained softly. Again only silence. "I wanna be there", Sam stated suddenly. "In the hospital, with Dean. I wanna be there"

John hadn't expected anything else and replied: "Bobby is here. He can pick you up" "Alright" Before John could say another word, Sam had ended the phone call.

John knew Sam blamed him for this. And somehow he was right. Dean hadn't been ready for a werewolf hunt yet. Even though he liked to pretend otherwise he is still quite new to hunting. Well actual hunting, no researching.

John cursed. He shouldn't have made such a major mistake. He should have called Caleb or Pastor Jim for help. And now Dean was in hospital fighting for his life. John let himself fall back into his chair.

When Bobby came back, John told him about his conversation with Sam and Bobby agreed on picking the youngest Winchester up at the motel room.

When they came back, John was already sitting in a room in the ICU at his son's bedside. He had had a short talk with the doctor, who had used a lot of medical terms John's tired mind hadn't understood. He just knew that they had fixed his son and even though his condition was still critical, they were confident that he would make it just fine.

'They probably say that to everyone' John tried to not listen to those thoughts. Dean was strong, stronger than any other patient in this hospital. He would make it.

Still in this very moment he looked so fragile and young, it was scary to think that he was battling a werewolf a couple of hours ago.

When Sam and Bobby entered the room, Sam completely ignored his Dad. In one motion he was at his brother's side, taking his hand into his own, his eyes carefully eyeing all the wires attached to Dean and the tube helping him to breathe.

"Dammit, Dean. What did you get yourself into this time", Sam whispered with a humourless chuckle. Bobby kept standing in the door frame, taking in the picture of the broken, little family. How could John let it get this far, after what he had already lost? This question had been circling Bobby's mind since he had gotten John's frantic phone call a couple of hours ago. Bobby sighed and let himself fall onto a chair. Even he wasn't able to change such a messed up person like John Winchester.

Hours went by, without any of them talking, just listening to the heart monitor's steady beeping. Occasionally a nurse came in to check Dean's condition and renew the IV.

When John suggested Sam to go back to the motel room to get some sleep he was just greeted with an icy glare. So they kept waiting. One of them once in a while getting some food from the cafeteria, just to throw it into the bin, because none of them had any appetite. Coffee was the only thing keeping John going at this point.

It took 2 days before Dean regained consciousness for the first time. Sam was the first one to notice. They were beyond relieved when Dean talked to them, although he was not fully lucid because of the high pain medication he was getting and after a couple of minutes he was asleep again. A doctor came in to check him out and it seemed like John could finally breathe again for the first time in 2 days when he told them that the wounds were healing nicely and after a couple days rest Dean would be good to go.

The next time Dean woke up, John was alone in the room with him. "Where is Sam?" Dean whispered, slowly taking in his surroundings. "He is in the motel room. Bobby convinced him to get some sleep, because he almost passed out." John explained slowly. "Sounds like him", Dean chuckled softly.

Neither of them really knew what to say, so they sat in an awkward silence for a while. Although the tension was driving John crazy, he just didn't know what to say or even where to start.

"I'm sorry, Dad", Dean rasped after a couple of minutes his eyes big and full of guilt. John was perplexed. What was Dean apologising for?

"I should have been more careful. If I had been more focused, I could have spotted the werewolf. I could have shot him. I was just not…"

"Hey Dean stop!", John said taking his son's hands. "Don't blame yourself. Stuff like this happens, OK. It's the risk of hunting."

Dean sighed. "Next time I'm gonna be better, I promise!"

John swallowed: "Yeah next time"

The End

A/N: I hope you liked the end of the story. If you did (or not I'm open for everything) leave a review:)

Little side note: you might have noticed that I didn't use any specific medical terms or descriptions. Well I'm not a native speaker and don't know a lot of words in that area (Not even in my own language). I thought I'd be OK because that's not what the story is all about.