John gave his son close to one hour to get over his shock, but that was the most he could do and even that had surprised Dean; he'd anticipated that his father would barge into his room within 10 minutes, top.

"Son?"

Dean's heart skipped a beat; literally; the heart monitor actually showed the irregular rhythm, making John eye the device worriedly.

"Dad? That... That really you?" Dean's voice was barely above a whisper.

"I know; it's still a shock to me, too." John tried to smile, but his son's condition; the boy's unseeing eyes and the abnormal heart beat disturbed him more than he was willing to admit. And he wasn't even thinking about the fact that he was back from death, from Hell, and they had no explanation for it.

"Dad-" Dean wanted to reach out and grab his father and pull him into a hug; he wanted to see the man, and touch him to make sure he was there; but none of those things seemed possible and it made him feel even more dejected.

Fortunately, John had missed his son just as much and Dean's current condition had pushed his fatherly side forward; so, grabbing Dean's shoulders, he pulled the younger man into a fierce hug and held onto him for so long that he felt Dean's wild heart beat calmed down against his chest again.

"We burned your body." Dean said brokenly. "How's this possible?" He asked as he tentatively touched his father's cheek.

John let him do that, knowing that without his sight, Dean probably needed the contact to make sure it was really him. He'd seen blind people do that and absently wondered if Dean knew how quickly he'd fallen into that pattern and it scared him; because Dean needed his sight; he didn't deserve to live in a dark world for the rest of his life and definitely not for the mistakes that he had made. Dean deserved better; he deserved the best.

"I don't know but I want to reverse whatever that had caused this." John said as he put a hand on his son's shoulder.

"Dad-" Dean started to protest, but John stopped him.

"This's not good, Dean. You know it's not and it should've never happened. And you do not deserve to go through this a second time."

"I didn't feel it the first time." Dean said quietly.

"I did." John said just as quietly. "I'm gonna fix this, Dean. You're gonna be fine; you hear me, son?"

"Dad, no." Dean stopped him this time. "Maybe this is right. Maybe it's better this way. It was never supposed to be you. I was supposed to die that day, not you. You shouldn't have made that deal and just... Just how could you?" Dean would've raised his voice if he had the energy.

"Dean! First of all, calm down." John said firmly. "Second of all, you wouldn't have been there in the first place if it hadn't been for me."

"I was there because of the demon, not you." Dean retorted stubbornly. "And now that you're back; we can make everything right. You should be with Sam, not me. You can take better care of him; he doesn't need me. I should've never come back."

"Enough." John ordered. "Dean, how could you say that? Without you we would've been lost. I made the deal because you didn't deserve to die; I owed you more than that but it was the least I could do; and honestly it was more for selfish reasons; I couldn't deal with your death; you're stronger than I could ever be; you're a better man; always have been, even when you were just a kid. And Sam would never stick around if you were gone. You practically raised him; he might be pigheaded, but at least he listens to you and he was a wreck when you were in a coma. I did what I did for all of us, for Sam who needs you, for you and for me. Don't ever say it should've been you who died, because if it comes to it, I'd do exactly the same again."

"Dad, please. No." Dean pleaded with him.

"You know this isn't right, Son. I don't know how, but at the end of this, I'll be gone again, I'm just glad I got another chance to talk to you; to tell you how proud of you I am and how sorry I am for putting that last burden on your shoulders. I've always relied on you and like I said before, you've always, all your life, taken care of me and Sam; you kept us together; I didn't deserve you, but I'm thankful for you and I'm sorry I was more of a drill sergeant than a father. I'm sorry if I made you think that you come second to everything else. You're the best thing that's happened to me, you hear me? You and your brother. Please understand, Dean. You need to fight this."

Dean bit his lip to keep it from trembling. "I wish I could see you." He knew that if Sam hadn't told him that they'd made sure it was really their father there, he'd doubt it with the way the older man was talking and praising him; he wasn't used to hearing those sort of stuff from John Winchester; he wished he could see him to match the words with the man's face and his expressions.

That was said so brokenly that John had to close his eyes for a second. "I hope I can stay around long enough for you to regain your sight, but in case I don't, I want you to know I'm so proud of you, Dean. I'm so damn proud of you."

"This sounds scarily like your last goodbye speech."

"Well, it could be. I don't want to miss any other chances. We don't know what has caused this and we don't know how or when it might end. I needed you to know." The older man replied honestly, sounding pained and remorseful for all the times that he'd missed a chance in the past.

"Thanks." Dean said under his breath and clenched the sheet between his fists. "Promise me you won't keep me out of the loop, Dad. Promise me you'll tell me whatever you find. I know I'm not of much use to you like this; but promise me you won't keep me in the dark..." He winced at his own choice of words. "Well, you know what I mean."

"Alright. You have my word, son. And you're not useless; you just need to concentrate on getting better, now; it's not just your eyes; your doctor said your heart isn't strong enough yet and your kidneys and liver are still in bad conditions, too. So just take it easy for a while." John squeezed his son's shoulder. "Now get some rest while I call Bobby and see if he's found anything. Either Sam or I will always be here; so if you thought of something, just tell us and we'll check it out."

Dean nodded his head and closed his eyes; wishing that the next time he opened them, the darkness would be gone.

.

.

"Dean?" Bobby's voice didn't have its usual gruffness when he called the young hunter's name.

It's been three days since Dean'd come out of his coma and not only the blindness hadn't disappeared -which the doctors still kept saying wasn't a cause of too much worry because things like that wouldn't go away overnight-; his general health was deteriorating, too. His liver and kidneys didn't show any sign of improvement; his lungs were getting weaker and now he had a mask over his nose and mouth, feeding him pure oxygen and his heart... His heart was apparently failing, too and the heart monitor was making it clear even for those not knowing anything about medicine and human body. These, unlike his so-called 'temporary' blindness, were problems that the doctor were worried about and even though Dean was out of it most of the time, he still knew what was going on around him and knew how his own body was failing him.

Unseeing eyes opened slightly as Dean, tiredly, turned his head over to where Bobby was sitting.

"How you doing, boy?"

Bringing his thumb up, Dean smiled behind the oxygen mask and even though the smile itself was hidden by it, the wrinkles around his eyes delivered his message.

"Yeah, you look it, too." The older man grumbled, feeling a heaviness in his chest that he hadn't felt since he'd lost his beloved wife. But this boy; this stubborn, but brilliant boy with the hugest heart he'd ever seen, was like a son to him and even though, throughout the years, he'd seen him in many forms of pain, physically and emotionally, he still wasn't used to seeing him this way.

With way more effort than should be needed to move an arm and remove a mask, Dean raised took the mask off and breathlessly asked, "Hey, man... Any... Anything ... New?"

Even hearing the boy sounding so frail and hoarse hurt Bobby and if Dean could see him, he'd notice it in the other man's eyes. "We're all working on it."

Dean's corner of mouth moved slightly as he smiled. He knew he didn't have much time.

"Hey, don't give me that look."

"Wha... What look?" he rasped.

"You know what look." Bobby said gruffly; "you're not giving up! You hear me?"

"Bobby... You don't... don't und... understand." He panted. "It's b... better this-" He stopped when a hand landed on his shoulder.

"It's not, Dean." The older man growled. "And you'll not give up. We'll find what's causing this."

"Should've-"

Bobby knew what Dean was going to say; so, once again he stopped him before the boy wasted any more of his breath and his already fading energy. "Doesn't matter what should've happened. You were the one who survived at the end and that was for the best."

Dean frowned; "How could-" He coughed and Bobby put the mask over his mouth and nose again.

"Don't talk."

Shaking his head, Dean took a few breathes before once again removing the mask, stubbornly refusing to listen to the older man. "Bobby, please-"

The look on Dean's face was one Bobby could never resist.

"Dad and Sammy..." He paused, "They... They need you."

"And they need you. More than they'd ever need anyone in this world. So, fight!"

"I am... But-"

"No buts!"

"Not much longer." Dean stated tiredly.

"Dammit, you idjit! What do you think would happen to your father and brother if you leave now?" Bobby grabbed the boy's shoulder, "They'll be devastated."

"They'll... move on." Speaking was getting harder for Dean.

"That's what you think? That they'll just move on and what? Keep going like it never happened?"

Shaking his head slightly, Dean said, "No. But... they can do it. Done it in the past."

Shaking his head, Bobby silently cursed John and Sam for making Dean think they'd just moved on with their lives when they'd left Dean without a word; one lousy phone call every now and then had been all Dean'd wanted from them and it'd be enough to make him realize he still had his family; even when they were states apart. "That's because they always knew you were there. Maybe not nearby, but out there, somewhere that they could reach you with no problems." He pointed out, "They were the knuckleheads who left and didn't call, sure; but they both did it because they knew they could count on you being there no matter what. Every damn time they think you wouldn't be there for a reason, when you are too hurt to move or too close to death; they'd both panic! Haven't you noticed the pattern yet?" He shook his head, even though Dean couldn't see it. Dean was really blind to his own worth. "It's not different this time."

"Can't-"

"You can because you're strong, Dean." Bobby exclaimed.

"Take... Take care of them if-"

"I can't!" Bobby refused; "They wouldn't stick around for me to do anything and they'd both lose it completely if you give up."

"Dammit! Not... Not giving up-"

"I know. I know." Bobby said ruefully; "You've never been a quitter; I know you'd do anything for those two idjits."

"So... You..." Dean inhaled and it sounded painful, "Make sure they won't kill each other?" He finally uttered a whole sentence without pausing.

"I damn well will try." Bobby rolled his try. "But nobody but you can actually do that. So you better keep fighting this until we find the solution."

Dean nodded, because that's what was expected of him; even though he did feel like he was damn close to buying the farm this time.

"Dad and Sam?"

"You wanna see them?"

Dean just nodded and felt a familiar pain when he thought how he wished he could actually see them one last time and how he couldn't.

"I'll call them."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome, boy." Bobby nodded. "Now keep this on-" He put the mask over Dean's mouth and nose again; "Your whizzing is hurting me!"

Dean said something that wasn't clear, but it sure sounded like 'ass'.

.

... TBC ...

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I still own nothing but my mistakes and the plot of my stories.