Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

Both men moved over to the bed. As John stroked his thumb over the fringe of Dean's spiked bangs, he noticed Dean's eyes were shifting rapidly under their lids.

"That can't be a good thing…"

John was so focused on Dean that he hadn't heard his youngest exit the bathroom and approach the bed.

"That just means he's in REM sleep."

John jumped and looked over his shoulder. "Jeez, Sammy… Don't sneak up on your old man like that."

"I thought nothin' could get the drop on you, dad? Losing your touch?" Sam smirked, lessening the sting of the words. John quickly changed the subject and Bobby tried his hardest not to burst out laughing at the dig.

"What do you mean by REM sleep?" The intelligence of this kid was ridiculous sometimes.

"It's a sleep stage. Number five I believe… Stands for rapid eye movement. It just means he's in a dream state where his mind is in overdrive but his body is paralyzed and can't respond to his fight or flight instincts. Which I'm sure is killin' him right now…"

John swallowed hard at those words. God, he hoped it wasn't killing his boy. Normal kids had nightmares about getting an F on a hard test or because they watched the latest horror movie for a thrill. But to the average Joe, those movie creatures weren't real. To the Winchesters, practically all of them were. He just hoped the demon wasn't influencing Dean's dreams.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Back at the school, Mrs. Prescott led a wary Ethan into the guidance office. After telling him to take a seat in the waiting area, she spoke quickly and quietly with Helen. This was a tricky situation. Helen did not know anything about the supernatural. She hadn't been there when Mrs. Prescott had been attacked with the boys in her custody. As far as she knew, the Winchester boys had fallen into a glass table and that was that.

However, Mrs. Prescott did not have the authority or medical experience to examine the boy. She toyed with the idea of bringing him straight to her husband who had recently been hired as the new doctor at the school, but decided she should go through Helen first to make things official. Her husband would be obligated to inform the counselor of the boy's injuries anyway.

Nurse Roderick, the woman who had evaluated Dean's injuries not so long ago, had been put on probation for sedating him and conducting his exam in an unconventional manor. Though she had meant well, she had over-stepped her boundaries and was paying for it now.

Mrs. Prescott had to handle this situation delicately to avoid making the same mistakes. She told Helen that she would like "the doctor" to examine the boy for possible abuse, but requested to be in the room during the exam. That way, she could relay the findings to the Winchesters and Bobby and see if Ethan really was the son of a hunter or not. Her husband, who also knew about the supernatural, would know better not to mention those kinds of injuries to Helen. He would have to invent a more plausible excuse.

When it was settled that she could be present during the exam, the two women approached Ethan who refused to meet either of their eyes. That was probably the one main difference between him and the Winchester boys. Sam stood out due to his intelligence, and Dean for his rebellious and cocky nature. This boy seemed to want to disappear all together and remain invisible. She supposed this was an acceptable front when it came to being a "hunter." Helen spoke first.

"Ethan, hunny, I'd like you to come with us for a moment."

"What for?" Still, his eyes remained glued to the rug. He knew damn well what this was about. He just wanted to stall as much as possible.

"I'd like to have the school doctor take a look at your injuries. Maybe there is something we can do to help."

"I don't need any help."

"Boy have I heard that before… Come on. It won't take long, I promise."

"And I've heard that before." He looked annoyed, but stood to follow them anyway. Neither woman understood what he meant by his words, but they doubted they were supposed to.

On their way to the back room, Helen asked Ethan to explain how he got hurt. Mrs. Prescott listened intently to the boy's water horse story again, waiting for the slightest detail to be off but his second account was practically verbatim to the first one. Though Mrs. Prescott was beginning to believe his tale, Helen had plenty of doubts. She guided him into the room with a hand on his shoulder before addressing him.

"I've heard a lot of stories in my day, hun, but that one takes the cake." She gently pressed down on his shoulder, indicating she wanted him to take a seat on the small wooden chair behind him. He did so, but stayed on the very edge of it so his throbbing back wouldn't connect with anything. Helen leaned down conspiratorially, placing her hands on the arm rests and making him draw back further into the seat to keep her out of his personal space. To Mrs. Prescott, it looked a lot like an interrogation.

"What really happened, Ethan? How did you get hurt?"

Mrs. Prescott quickly added her own question to the list. "Was it someone…" she paused, carefully considering her next words, then continued, "or something that hurt you?"

Ethan cocked an eyebrow at that one as he glanced over Helen's shoulder at Mrs. Prescott, then shrugged nonchalantly. "Depends on the occasion, I guess."

"You mean you get injured like this often?" Helen's concern was increasing by the minute.

"Look, I know you're just tryin' to do your job, but there's nothin' you can do for me so you're just wasting your time."

Mrs. Prescott stepped forward until she was right next to Helen.

"Don't be so sure about that."

Confusion crossed the boy's face but before he could ask what she had meant, the door opened and Mr. Prescott walked in, having been paged by Helen's secretary moments before. Both women backed off Ethan immediately, giving the doc room to work. Ethan was grateful he had more breathing room, but swallowed loud enough for all three adults to hear when he realized why. It was going to be extremely difficult to hide his injuries now, and he wasn't allowed to let anyone see them.

Mr. Prescott smiled warmly at him, hoping to sooth his fears. He walked up to the boy and held out his hand in a friendly gesture. "Hey. I'm doctor Prescott, but you can call me Roger if you like."

Ethan stared at his hand for a few moments before deciding it was safe and shaking it. "Ethan."

"Nice to meet you, Ethan. Now, what seems to be the trouble?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Bobby, can you wake him up? Do you know any incantations that might help?"

"Can't say that I do off the top of my head, but I've got somethin' better."

John shot him a questioning glance which Bobby ignored. Instead, he pulled a small capsule from his pocket and presented it to John.

"Smelling salts? Seriously? You think that'll work on somethin' like this?"

"No harm in tryin', right?"

"Guess not." John stood back to give Bobby room who immediately cracked the capsule and held it under Dean's nose. A few tense moments went by with no reaction from Dean, but then the boy began to cough and his eyes welled with tears. His eyes flew open and he immediately tried to sit up, but Bobby's strong hands kept him pinned to the mattress so he wouldn't cause himself further injury.

Instead, Dean compromised by pressing the heel of his right hand just above his right eyebrow and hissing through his teeth. He clamped his eyes shut once again as the familiar throb continued through his skull.

"Dean? You back with us?" John tried.

Dean grunted his assent but otherwise remained unresponsive. He was afraid if he moved anymore he'd throw up again. It was embarrassing enough in front of his father, but he'd be mortified if it happened in front of Bobby.

"Can you open yer eyes, kid?" Bobby questioned.

Dean gave it a valiant effort, but the overhead light in the room was doing its best to instigate another migraine. He tried to tell Bobby no, but only a groan slipped through his clenched teeth.

"Sammy, kill the lights," John ordered. Sam chose not to argue for his brother's sake and did as he was told for which his dad was grateful, as was Dean.

"That better, bro?" Sam practically whispered when he returned to his brother's side.

"Thanks, Sammy," Dean whispered back, relieved that it would be harder for his family to see his pain in the dark.

"Dean, I'm gonna help you open yer eyes very slowly, alright?" Bobby drawled. "Give them the chance to adapt so you don't strain 'em too much."

Dean nodded, keeping his eyes shut, but doing his best to relax the tension he had been keeping on them. He jolted slightly when Bobby's cool and calloused fingers made contact with his eye lids.

"Nice and easy now… Let me do all the work. Just relax your eyes." Bobby waited patiently for Dean to do as he asked, then began to slowly raise his lids until they were fully opened. There was enough light spilling over from the windows that Dean could see everything in the room, or at least he would have been able to had his vision not been so blurred.

"Can you see, Dean?" John asked anxiously as he watched his son's eyes continue to blink and try to focus.

"Everythin's blurry…" he mumbled, feeling like he hadn't slept in ages even though he had the distinct impression he had been unconscious for a while. He couldn't remember exactly what happened before he hit the ground, but there were a lot of strange images he could still see clearly in his mind that had revealed themselves to him in his dreams. He wasn't sure what they meant just yet, but he had a feeling they were important.

"It'll pass. Just give it a second. You had us scared there, kid." Bobby wiped a hand across his sweaty brow before resituating his tattered baseball cap on his head.

"Sorry. I… I dunno what happened…" Dean tried to sit up again, feeling awkward having everyone standing around him, and this time Bobby allowed it but kept a supportive hand on his back to help him up. Dean kept a hand to his head to prevent it from falling off as the room slowly righted itself.

"You were attacked by something, Dean," Sam quickly supplied.

"Attacked? By what?" Dean directed this question at his father who had been expecting it and thought up a lie quickly.

"Not sure exactly. Probably some kind of spirit."

"How'd it get past the salt?"

Once again, John had failed to remember Sam's intelligence.

"I… It… Dean must have left the circle to find us. That would explain how we found him halfway to the door."

Sam nodded, accepting John's web of lies, but something was nagging at the back of Dean's mind. He had a feeling it hadn't gone down like that at all. The only problem was he wasn't really sure what had happened. He would keep his doubts to himself for now. Bobby exchanged a meaningful look with John. There was no doubt in his eyes as to who the "late night visitor" was.

TBC

Happy Father's Day to all the dads out there! Please review!