Legalities: Supernatural does not belong to me, although I wish it did. I am simply playing in Kripke's sandbox for a bit. All rights and ownership are the property of Kripke and the CW network. I am not making any money from this; it is for my own personal pleasure.

Idea: This little fiction has a storyline, but it is unabashed hurt!Dean with extremely angsty!Sam and worried!John. This is purely a selfish little piece that I decided to share. I wanted to focus on Deans recovery and how one would come back from this type of situation. Especially when Dean would internalize everything...

Also, this is a very dark little piece of fiction, so please read all warnings at the start of the chapters and don't read it if you're not into that.

Synopsis: Sequel to Gone Missing, Dean is trying desperately to get past the physical and the mental trauma…but how will he deal when there is a significant hunt that he feels he must be a part of. And how will he hide the increasingly debilitating headaches that are a result of his torture from the prying eyes of his little brothe?

Warnings: This story will contain everything from intense angst, graphic depictions of past torture and dreams, to current pain. If you don't like this type of thing….don't read this story. I would suggest reading 'Gone Missing' first as it will set the scene for this story. It is the second in what will be a 3 story arc, returning Dean to all his glory for the Pilot of the series.

Please Review: I thought I would give the sequel a go. Let me know if you want it continued. Thank you for the amazing response...please continue to let me know what you are thinking...

Chapter Two

Damn-it Dean…

The world was warm and soft and smelled of a mixture of dust and old dryer sheets. A long slow breath was pulled into a tired body as movement shuffled through the muscles. Thoughts of being safe and happy floated through a tired mind when a sudden jarring sound caused him to start unintentionally.

Something pulled Sam from his restful sleep, his muscles bunching suddenly and then a painful shock rippled through his system, causing him to moan. He launched himself up in bed, his eyes frantically whirling around their shared room. His concerned gaze falling quickly on the rumpled…but very empty bed of his brother; he shifted so that the blankets fell off his chest and swung his long legs out over the floor as he climbed stiffly to his feet.

"Dean?" He called as he stumbled forward and then righted himself when he kicked something soft on the floor. A slight moan from below him had Sam crashing to his knees as he recognized the unconscious form of his older brother. "Dean!" he cried as he grabbed at the unmoving shoulder. Fear rushing through him as visions of his brother's still from, covered in water and blood on the banks of a river, flooded his mind. Sam gulped and pushed the vivid images away when he heard Dean's pained moan.

"S'mmy…?" Came the almost inaudible reply. Dean's voice was rough and scratchy as he groaned in response to his aching body and the constant pumping pain in his head. He could feel the uncomfortable chill from the wooden floor seeping past his thin sweatpants and the old black t-shirt. It was permeating deep into his bones the longer he laid there on the wood…unmoving.

"Dean? Can…can you get up?" Sam asked quietly. He couldn't lift the nearly 190 lbs of dead weight…he cringed inwardly at his own thoughts…dead weight… "I can't…lift you." Sam whispered in a defeated tone as he watched his brother start to struggle upright, his face pinching as he struggled past the pain. Sam was constantly amazed at Dean ability to compartmentalize his pain. Somehow his brother was able to push it to the back of his mind and accomplish whatever he needed to get done. While this was invaluable on a hunt…it was frustrating at other times…and this was one of those times.

Dean moaned again and pushed himself up on his good arm…allowing his stomach to settle somewhat before he attempted getting to his feet. The smell of the dust from the wooden floor coating the inside of his nose as he sneezed and then immediately curled around the pain that lanced through his head and chest.

"Dean?" Sam asked again. He was trying desperately to keep his own emotions from shining through…at least not until he had dealt with his brother.

"I'm…just getting my…bearings Sammy…chill." He said. But there was no heat in his tone or anger in his voice…just resignation. Dean swallowed and pushed harder, finally bringing his knees under himself and then Dean blinked very slowly several times before coming all the way to his feet and then sinking slowly onto his bed. The nausea was still rolling just beneath the surface and he wasn't ready to test those limits yet. Thus far he'd managed to keep his meager dinner down…but it was still sending him threatening messages.

Sam huffed and picked himself up and settled next to his brother. "You want me to get dad? Or Bobby?" He knew the moment he'd asked the question and his brother's shoulder stiffened where it touched his…that there was no way in hell that Dean was going to allow him to get anyone else involved.

"No Sam…I'm fine…just give me a minute." Dean said through clenched teeth. He'd wrapped his good arm around his stomach and was trying to breathe through the tightening of his throat. He had to get control of this…he couldn't afford for Sam to see this weaken side of himself. He hated that Sam had seen what he had. It made him feel weak and inferior…and a number of other crappy descriptive terms that would remain un-thought…

Sam bit his lower lip in debate as he watched his brother suffer through in silence. It wasn't fair…their lives were already so messed up and this…it was just one more nail in their coffins.

XXXX

Two Months Later

Dean reached down and pulled his brown leather boots into place. He had been relieved when he'd finally been able to get rid of his 'blue-suede-shoes' and return to his sturdy work boots. The doctor had wanted him to wear the less-than-desirable- 'shoes' a little while longer but Dean had flat out refused and then to prove it…he'd pushed his still tingling soles into his leather boots…and then stared triumphantly at the rolling eyes of Dr. Thompson. His back had healed as much as it was likely to, it didn't hurt so much anymore, but he still refused to walk around without at least a t-shirt on at all times. He didn't want Sam to be reminded of the injury and how he'd come by it. The ribs still twinged painfully when he breathed too deeply or if he managed to twist just right…but it was getting better every day.

Dean had been able to pass off his collapse that first night to exhaustion and lack of sleep compiled with pain meds…that he wasn't really taking…but Sam didn't need to know that. He had managed to convince his girl of a little brother, that he was fine and he just needed to get some rest and that would take care of the unfortunately vertigo. While Sam had looked unconvinced, he'd nodded slowly and then helped Dean to bathroom. Dean knew that he shouldn't lie to Sammy like that…that if the situation was reversed that he'd be livid if he found out his little brother had been lying to him. But this wasn't about Sammy's feelings…this was about keeping up a front…showing that Dean could still take care of his little brother…despite his detour into the backwoods. He had something to prove…and he knew it.

Sam's own rehab was finished and he was able to move his shoulder at close to 95 percent mobility…Dean was about that far along on his own shoulder…although his head was another matter entirely.

The headaches had gotten worse…particularly in the last several weeks…he wasn't sure why they were still plaguing him, but was very careful to keep the pained faces from the others. If he started to feel the unquestionable nausea course through his system, he'd make and excuse and head for the bathroom…where more likely than not, he'd lose everything he'd eaten that day. His weight was suffering some as a result of that nasty little side-effect. Sam would throw worried glances in his direction when he'd excuse himself and make a beeline for Bobby's bathroom. He'd already had to tighten his belt…he was going to have to eat more pie or something and then hope that he could keep the calories down.

Dean had yet to mention the increasing severity of the headaches…on a few occasions he'd been unable to hide them from Sam…those days sucked out loud. He would have to make his way back to their shared room and hide in the darkened corner, where his bed sat, and suffer as the migraine pounded around inside his skull. He knew that he was supposed to tell the doctor about these types of things…but he couldn't quite bring himself to voice the problem.

Sam was too smart not to know that something was going on with his overly silent older brother…but since he had started school a few weeks ago it had been easier for Dean to hide the growing problem.

Currently he was sitting quietly in Bobby's kitchen nursing a cup of black coffee and scrolling through the headlines of the local papers. The old kitchen was like Bobby…relatively clean…if a bit crowded and dated in its furnishings. But to Dean it felt like home…always had…other than the Impala. Which he'd been careful to avoid driving since he didn't want to have an 'episode' while behind the wheel; something told him that he was going to have to spill the beans sooner or later to his doctor…he just hoped it was as late as possible.

Their father hadn't been around since that first night. By the time Sam and Dean had trudged sleepily down the stairs in search of the source of the awesome smells wafting up to their room…John was gone. Not that Dean had been surprised by that…it wasn't unusual for his father to drop in for a few days and then take off for months at a time. John had called them at least once a week, sometimes more, to check up their progress and let them know he was okay and roughly where he was in the country. The fact that neither of the boys could help him was weighing heavily on Dean as he flipped over to the next article on the screen. The more he allowed himself to delve into the ever widening pool of guilt the worse he felt over all. So now he was trying to find something to occupy his mind…a hunt. Bobby would be please by that. The old man had been trying to get him involved in something for the last three weeks, but Dean had insisted that he would do the research and he'd let Bobby know if he found anything promising close by.

His tired gaze flickered as he heard a noise that indicated he was no longer alone. Sam trudged through the archway near the stairs and grunted a 'mornin…' before immediately pouring himself a mug of coffee. He'd be turning sixteen in a few months and Dean felt his heart pull at the thought that the little brother that he'd all but raised was becoming an adult. He already looked it…Sam had gained another inch in height and was rapidly approaching Dean's own height of six feet. He was still lanky and had yet to put on any real muscle other than the strong sinew that had been developed over years of running and training in fighting techniques. All in all…Sam was growing up into a very capable looking hunter. The only issue that Dean still had was that the kid didn't seem all that interested in hunting.

That had been especially true after the encounter with the camp…and Dean's subsequent torture. Sam had pulled further and further from the 'family business' as Dean like to call it. He'd buried himself in school and books, always arguing with Dean about training…whereas before Dean's little sojourn…Sam had been the one to remind Dean on occasion that they had yet to fulfill their training quota for the day.

Dean sighed as Sam sank into the chair across from him and eyed him over the rim of his cracked mug.

"What are you up to today?" Sam asked as he stood up again to put some toast in the toaster and snake a piece of bacon off the platter that Bobby had left out for them. Dean just tilted his head and shot an irritated look in his brother's direction.

"What do you think I'm up? Fixing cars, healing up, ya know the family curse." He said with derision. Dean was so bored that he wanted to scream or punch something…but he knew that he was lashing out and it wasn't exactly Sam's fault that his head hurt like a bitch today.

Sam narrowed his eyes and bit back the smart ass retort that popped into his head. He knew his brother well enough to know what this was. Dean hated being sick…he hated being sidelined…but be hurt and sidelined? That made him a walking ball of anger and frustration and Sam was the perfect target for all that pent up ire. And Sam was sick of being a target, so he stayed quiet. His toast popped up and he grabbed some butter from the fridge spreading a generous amount over the dried bread and then sank into the chair he'd already claimed. His gaze drifted to the clock above the sink, he had about an hour before he had to be at school.

"Can you give me a ride?" Sam asked quietly. Dean always gave him a ride…but Sam didn't want it to feel like he was taking advantage of his brother's time…so he always asked.

Dean grunted an affirmative and then turned back to the computer screen.

"What are you looking at?" Sam asked conversationally.

Dean rolled his eyes and then glanced up at the genuinely interested expression on his little brother's face. He sighed dramatically and then turned the screen so that Sam could see the article that had caught his interest. "These people all disappeared from the same stretch of road…all within the third week in October. And none of them have ever been seen or heard from again."

Sam carefully set his mug down and then turned to face Dean, an incredulous expression fluttering across his eyes. "That's sounds a little familiar…doesn't it Dean?"

Dean felt the icy fingers of a chill tremble up his spine. He forced down the underlying fear and put on his best 'it so doesn't matter Sammy' face. "Not really…" he lied easily.

Sam gaped at him and bit his lip as he watched his brother slam the great-wall-of-Dean firmly into place. He had never figured out how his brother did that…just shut down all emotion…at least the ones that showed on his face or in his eyes. Somehow Dean was able to do it with pain as well…it was a skill that Sam had never really learned. His brother could do it without any thought at all…but Sam had to lie through his teeth…and generally Dean could see right through his lie. As he looked at his brother, Sam was surprised to see the deep almost purple shadows beneath Dean's green eyes. It made them appear almost luminescent in the bright morning sunlight of Bobby's pale white kitchen.

"Yeah…right." Sam muttered as he rose to his feet and went in search of his backpack.

Dean watched his brother walk out on him and he pulled his eyebrows together in frustration. It didn't seem to matter what he did…he just kept pushing his little brother further away. But there were some burdens that he couldn't place on his brother's shoulders…and fear? That was at the top of the list.

The soft ringing of his phone had Dean leaning across the table to answer the little silver phone.

"Hello?"

"Dean Winchester?" A masculine voice asked quickly.

Dean swallowed as he recognized the origin of the number. Dr. Thompson's office… "This is Dean." He waited for the proverbial shoe to drop and smash his head in the process. He winced at the analogy…anything that involved 'smashing his head' needed to be off limits.

"Dean…your last brain scan…we need to talk about the results." The doctor said evenly.

Dean felt the instantaneous panic lurch through his stomach and the light thrum in his head increase to a steady thump. "Is everything okay?" he said after a moment of silence.

"No…but we need to talk about this in person."

Dean made the arrangements to meet with the doctor after dropping Sam off at school.

TBC…

Author's Note: The hunt will start to reveal itself in the next chapter as well as the results of Dean's brain scan. He will have a difficult decision to make…will he allow Sam to be a part of it? Or will he decide for himself how much his brother knows. Of course, Sam is pretty damn smart…so he might just figure out what's going on without Dean's input.

I also wanted to thank everyone that reviewed the first chapter. Guests that I can't PM…thank you for taking the time to tell me what you thought. Specifically…Silent Howler (who says the internet won't let them sign in J ), Candylover665, and the several other guests with no name. Thank you.

Please Review: Please take the time and let me know what you think of this chapter. It will start getting darker and more angsty in chapter 3.