16th November 1983

Sammy's leg is healing well and he's definitely a lot calmer. Just being in the hospital freaked him out and he wouldn't calm down unless he was in my arms. Dean reads him stories with my help – he's such a smart kid. He's way more advanced at reading than any other four year old, maybe because we encouraged him to do it from the moment he took interest in the words of his storybooks. He's going to love school, I can tell. But where he's going to go to school is another question.

Doctors and nurses still scare Sam. He cries when they examine him, and especially when they bathe or change him for me, which I try to prevent them doing. But Dean does such a good job of putting a smile back on Sam's face.

Dean's been having nightmares and has been waking up crying, calling out for me, John or Sam and taking a while to calm down once he wakes up. The fire has really shaken him up, and the doctors are going to get help for him. I still don't know exactly what he saw, but it hasn't done him any good and he desperately needs a good night's sleep. Especially now he's afraid of bedtime. No four year old should go through such fear.

17th November 1983

Dean's seeing a kid shrink after he had a bad night, worse than usual. Sammy had been restless and so I'd left Dean on our little bed set up beside Sam's crib to walk him around the room. He nestled close and calmed down as I gently rocked him and sang to him, and I think Sammy was just glad to get away from that crib for a little bit. Just as Sam was beginning to drop off to sleep, Dean started screaming suddenly, loud screams that startled Sam and I and made my chest clench. Sam started crying all over again, but I kept hold of him while trying my best to calm my eldest down. He was screaming for all three of us, and narrowly missed hitting his brother as I tried to hold him with one arm. Despite Sam's distress, I found no other choice other than to put him in the safety of his crib to calm Dean first. It's not like I have John to help me out anymore.

Dean woke up as I lifted him onto my knee and held him close, rocking him gently in an attempt to sooth him. His screams turned into violent, almost hysterical sobs and he buried his face into my chest until he heard Sam's cries.

"Sammy!" he cried, trying to struggle free of my hold and get to his brother, "Sammy!"

He struggled and fought against me, reaching desperately for Sam, before eventually giving up and melting down completely into cries. I took Sam back, now able to at least hold them both at once, and Dean reached and took his hand instantly.

"It's okay, Sammy," Dean said between sobs, "I'll p-protect you."

I was struggling to prevent myself from also breaking down, but I had to stay strong for the boys. Sam's nurse and a doctor had heard the commotion and came to see what was happening, and that was when the doctor advised Dean saw someone. He'd had nightmares since the fire, but not one this bad. He hadn't spoken about the fire, nothing about what he saw. He'd kept it all inside and it wasn't doing him any good, poor boy.

I'm taking him for counselling in a few minutes, I just hope he cooperates.

Dean seemed to be okay with it. He gave me a smile when he got out, and told me the lady was very nice and he talked to her about things. Sam's nurse kept an eye on him in Sam's room while the counsellor asked to see me. She told me Dean told her what happened during the fire. He'd been hiding under his bed, scared from all the screams and the fire, and only came out when he'd heard me calling for him. Dean hadn't been able to find me, but found John, who had given him Sam and told him to get out of the house. He remembered his father suddenly screaming, which had frightened him, and to make things worse he witnessed John burning from his clothes setting alight. Dean said he'd been too scared to move, and John fell right by him. He'd told our son to take Sam and run outside as fast as he could before going unconscious, and Dean had run in fear the fire would get him and Sam too. Sam had been screaming too and Dean had been trying so hard to calm him down as he made his way outside, but suddenly he stopped like he suddenly fell asleep.

Dean told the counsellor that he kept remembering seeing John covered in fire and that it kept coming into his dreams, as well as dreams that Sam and I were burned too. The night dream that caused him to get so hysterical had been about him losing all three of us while he couldn't do anything but watch, but what stuck in his mind was the screams. The counsellor advised me that Dean needed further counselling and perhaps some kind of therapy to help him recover from such an experience. I thanked her for her help and went back to my boys, and praised Dean for being so brave. He's being so strong.

I don't know what to do. Dean needs this help but we can't stay here much longer. It's not going to be long before Sam can leave the hospital, and as soon as he can I want to get us out of Lawrence, out of Kansas if need be. I don't even know where we'd go, so I can't even ask to arrange it at another hospital. Maybe I should just point at a map with my eyes closed and go there…

20th November 1983

Sam's last night at the hospital. He's been doing a lot better, his burn has healed up nicely but he'll need check-ups on it for a little while. I told them we were moving, but I wasn't yet sure where, and they just told me to get the nearest hospital to call here for verification. Hopefully this means Dean can get his therapy sessions too.

Dean's seen the shrink every day since his first session and he's definitely seeming brighter. Getting all his thoughts and worries off his chest must be such a weight from his shoulders. He tells me the nice lady lets him draw and talk about anything he likes. Today he talked to her about John and everything they did together, and yesterday he told her all about Sam and how he's the best little brother in the world. Just having someone to talk to is doing him so much good. He's also been learning relaxation techniques for if he gets scared or has another nightmare. I hate that my four year old already has to know such techniques, that my six-month old has already experienced so much pain and distressed. They're children, why have they already been exposed to such situations?

I let Sam sleep in with us tonight. It's his first night without some sort of monitor or wire attached to him, and every night he's refused to sleep for some period of time, knowing that Dean and I have been sharing a bed right by him. They're snuggled up together beside me right now. Dean's wrapped his arms around Sam's little body, as if desperate to keep him safe. Sam's nestled close to him, head rested on Dean's chest and fast asleep while Dean watches him. I just hope he actually sleeps tonight.

21st November 1983

This is it. Sam has been discharged. Missouri watched the boys while I went back to the house for one last visit. Dean had looked like he would cry when I asked him if he wanted to come with me, and the hospital certainly weren't going to babysit. Sam was a bit clingy and didn't want me to go, making a fuss and reaching for me, but Dean promised he'd help look after him.

The house is too quiet. I waited to hear Dean's padding footsteps or Sam's cooing or John playing with the boys, only to be greeted by eerie silence. I hate it. This used to be home, this was the place we bought together, the house Sam was born in, both boys' first home. But now it was an empty shell of that place. Dark, miserable. There was nothing worth taking with us, nothing I'd not picked up already. And I daren't go upstairs. Just seeing the boarded up windows of Sam's nursery was enough to make me want to throw up, and seeing the blackened doorway and room only made things worse.

22nd November 1983

After about seven hours driving, on and off, we've stopped in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. I stopped in Harrisburg, the town before, but none of the motels had space. I think the woman behind the counter at the last one we visited could sense my frustration and exhaustion, and was kind enough to call over to a motel in Sioux Falls to reserve a room for us. I couldn't thank her enough. It was nearing 11pm, Dean was half asleep and complaining from getting out the car so many times without a bed being in his sight, and Sam was restless and irritable from struggling to sleep in the car. Dean slept so easily in the car as a baby, the Impala's rumbling soothed him right to sleep. Sam on the other hand can't seem to stand it. Car journeys weren't exactly the easiest with him, but he may well have to get used to it. I don't know how long we'll stay here.

Sioux Falls was only around another twenty minutes from Harrisburg, and the motel were expecting us. I got the key without even having to state my name, and after a quick thank you I got both the boys into the room. Dean climbed into the double bed of his own accord and fell asleep there and then, and I resorted to leaving Sam in his car seat right by the bed for the time being. While the boys slept I salted the doors and windows – one thing I hadn't forgotten to take with me – and carefully went back to the car to bring some of our things inside.

I've barely slept. I've let Dean sleep in until he's ready to wake up. He went to bed so much later than usual and it didn't help that Sam kept waking in the night and crying, which got him a little freaked. I've fed Sam and need to take Dean out to get us both breakfast, when he's ready. I'm not exactly hungry anyway.

Sam's so happy today. He's giving me such beautiful smiles every time he looks at me and he's just cuddling close to me constantly. I envy him. He's so unaware of what's happening, he's just happy to be around Dean and I. What if he's forgotten John already? It hurts that he'll never remember his Daddy, not even what he looks like, without us telling him about him. Of course I will, I'll tell him all about how much of a hero John was. He can't grow up without knowing how amazing his father was, and neither can Dean. He'll remember John, of course he will, but those memories will still fade as he gets older. You've gone too soon, John.

I'm relieved to know Dean has his appetite back. Those few days of counselling have done wonders for him, he's himself again. That's not to say he doesn't need more. I just need to figure out what we're doing before I try and get him more help.

The moment we got into the diner Dean asked for a bacon sandwich and an egg and beans with a glass of milk. I'm aiming to be as careful with money as I can now, seeing as I haven't exactly planned what we're doing and where we're going, so I got it for us to share. He'd never eat all that anyway. His eyes are bigger than his stomach, and he proved it as soon as the meal came. His eyes widened and he quietly told me there was no way he could have all that to himself, so I was welcome to share. So polite.

I took the boys to a little playground around the corner from our motel. Sam's too little to even go on any of the baby stuff, but he enjoyed the fresh air and watched Dean from my knee. He's got so much clingier now, and I don't blame him. My poor baby hated that hospital so much and kept crying for me, so I guess now he's just afraid he'll be taken from me again. Dean didn't play much. He went on the slide a couple times and half-heartedly tried out the swing, but he eventually just came back to me and climbed onto my knee, giving Sam a hug instead. I told him to go play, but he just wanted to be with Sam. However much I love how close they are, I just wish Dean would let himself be a kid. But he didn't look interested in that playground in the slightest.

We went for a walk around the park and Dean sat himself on a bench by a small duck pond. He beckoned me to sit beside him, and we watched the ducks for a good hour. I just wish I had some bread or something so he could go feed them; he tried not to show it but he was watching another little boy enviously as he threw pieces of bread into the pond and squealed in delight as the ducks ate it up. Sam eventually fell asleep and Dean decided it was time to go home. I'm not sure if he was referring to Lawrence or just the motel room, but he didn't seem disappointed as we got inside.

23rd November 1983

Dean's stopped talking so much. I think he's missing the counselling. He asked when he was going to visit the nice lady at the hospital again, and I was stumped for an answer. I settled with telling him that we were a bit too far away from seeing her as we were going away for a little while, but he can see one of her friends soon. He didn't appear overly satisfied but nodded and fell silent. He's barely spoken since. Maybe I should call Sioux Falls General and see if they can do anything. It's a nice place here and the motel isn't too expensive, so I think we can stay a little while. And Dean needs the help.

Called the hospital. They can fit Dean in this week but they're not sure about next week. I accepted anyway, and he'll be going in tomorrow for an hour. I just hope he likes this person as much as the woman in Lawrence. He seems pretty excited to be seeing someone else, and tells me he hopes he can do drawing again like with the other lady. He asked if Sammy can come with him too, in case he was frightened from the fire too, but I told him he was too little. It did make me wonder if Sam did remember anything, though. Maybe that's why he wakes more in the night.

I just feel so helpless. Dean had an out of the blue, raging tantrum and Sam hasn't stopped crying since from the noise and his brother's violence. He was close to hurting Sam, he was so angry, and it was scaring me to death. All I did was tell him to finish his dinner – I'd resorted to a McDonalds – and to stop bothering Sam, who was trying to sleep. He just snapped. Within seconds he was screaming and punching me, throwing the remainder of his food on the floor. Sam, already irritated from Dean trying to hold him and stroking his hair, then started crying too. I dread to think what the people in the rooms next door thought, but at the time I was focusing on calming my boys down.

Dean wouldn't tell me what was wrong, he just hit me and kicked me. Through his screams I was sure I heard him tell me to burn. Eventually he began to calm down, most likely exhausted from his outburst, and burst into tears. My little boy apologised over and over and could barely produce audible speech through his sobs. I just held him and Sam and rocked them both gently in my arms. Dean fell asleep, but Sam is just so over-tired that he's struggling to get to sleep. I'm struggling not to cry myself. My sons are suffering and there's nothing I can do. I hate to have taken them away from their home and Dean away from the shrink that he'd begun to trust and respond well to. What if others didn't compare? I wasn't sure if I could bring myself to return to Lawrence, but for him I may have to. I just wish I could take away all the damage from this fire. I wish I could take away the frightening memories and Sam's injuries and put it all on myself. Such young boys shouldn't be dealing with such stress and torment. If only I could stop it.

Thanks for reading! Hope you're enjoying this fic. Hoping to weave in some more characters from the show! 3

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Thanks Laurie Archer, maxandkiz, flutterby cupcake and IcyFox West for reviewing the first chapter! :) And thank you to everyone who favourited and followed :)