Once again, thank you all for reading and sending me such lovely comments. I won't waste any more of your time...I'll just let you get to the story.

Cindy

"D-Dad? Where's my mom?"

John sucked in a nervous breath and turned back toward his sons. Dean's eyes were wide as he stared at his father, his arm tightening around Sam's back. "Sam…your mom…she's…" John started, his voice shaking with emotion.

Sam dropped his sightless eyes to his lap and sighed. "She's gone, isn't she?" he whispered, his lower lip quivering slightly as he leaned into his brother.

John walked back to the bed and sat down. He reached for Sam's face and gently lifted it. "Yes…she died when you were just a baby," he answered softly.

"So…I never knew her?" Sam asked timidly.

Dean stared at his father then turned to his brother. "Sammy…you were six months old, but you know her…you know that she was beautiful and that she loved to sing to you and hold you and…and that she loved you very much," he said as he hugged the boy to his side.

Sam turned his head up toward his brother's face, his strange, white eyes filling with tears. "She d-did?" he whispered.

"More than anything, kiddo," John answered softly.

Sam smiled sadly and pulled away from his brother. He leaned back against the headboard and dropped his chin to his chest.

"Sammy? What's wrong?" Dean asked as he watched his brother with concern.

"N-Nothing…I just…I wish I could remember," Sam softly answered. "I wish I could remember you…I wish I could remember her."

"You will, son…I promise," John said, his hand reaching out to gently squeeze Sam's knee.

Sam lifted his head and stared sightlessly toward his father. "How? You don't know why I'm like this. You don't know why I'm blind and you don't know why I can't remember! How can you promise something like that!" the boy suddenly cried out as tears sprang to his eyes and slowly trailed down his red cheeks.

John swallowed and blinked back against the sting in his eyes as he scooted closer to his baby's side. He gave Sam's knee another squeeze and cleared his tightening throat. "Sam…we're doing everything we can to figure this out. We will figure it out and you will see again. You will get your memory back. I'll never give up, son," he said, the man unable to keep the slight tremor from his voice.

Sam lifted a shaky hand to his face and hastily brushed the tears from his cheeks. He shut his eyes and sighed. "I believe you…I don't know why, but I do. I just…I want you to know that if you can't fix this, it's okay," he whispered as he sagged further against the headboard.

Dean glanced at his father and shook his head before turning back to Sam. "Sammy…we are going to fix this. Bobby is working on it from his end and Dad and I will be working it from here. You just need to rest and let us handle it, okay?" he said softly.

Sam turned toward Dean's voice and slowly nodded. "Okay…but, I'm not really tired. I…I'm actually…uh…" Sam stammered, his voice trailing off as he dropped his head again.

Dean reached for his brother and gently lifted his face. "What is it, kiddo? You're what?" he asked.

Sam bit at his bottom lip, a habit he'd had since he was a small child, and Dean's heart clenched as he suddenly saw his brother as the chubby little boy who had his eyes on the last cookie in the jar. Dean smiled at the memory then gave his brother a gentle nudge. "Sam?" he said softly.

"Oh…uh…I just…I'm kinda hungry, but I know there's more important things to worry about right now, so…nevermind," Sam answered sheepishly.

"Sam…if you're hungry then I'll go get you something to eat. I'm sure Dean is pretty hungry too…right Dean?" John quipped, the man giving his eldest son a quick smile.

"Yeah, Dad…I could really go for something greasy right now," Dean answered eagerly, his green eyes watching his brother closely.

Sam bit his lip again and turned his head in the direction his father's voice had come from. "Well, if you're gonna get something for Dean, I guess you could get me something too," he said softly.

"Okay…I saw a small diner when we came into town that's just a little ways away. I'll go grab us some grub and give Bobby another call. Maybe he'll have something for us," John said as he stood and made himself ready to leave.

Once he was gone, Dean settled himself against the headboard next to Sam and pulled the boy to his side. "Sam," he whispered as he looked down at the mop head next to him, the teen smiling when Sam glanced up expectantly. "I just want you to know that if Dad says he's gonna find a way, he'll find a way. He won't give up and neither will I," he continued.

Sam sniffled and dropped his head to his brother's shoulder. "Thanks, Dean," he said softly before his breathing evened out and he was soon lost to sleep.

Dean held his brother to his side for several minutes then eased the boy down onto his pillow. He'd let him sleep until their father returned. Dean settled on his side and propped his head in his hand, the teen content to watch the steady rise and fall of his baby brother's chest. He smiled as Sam mumbled softly in his sleep before rolling slightly onto his side, his small hand coming up to cup his soft cheek. Dean couldn't get over how young his brother looked when sleeping and his heart ached as precious memories of more innocent days played through his mind. They had to find a way to bring his Sammy back. He didn't think he could take it if Sam wasn't able to remember all of the fun they'd had together. He knew he couldn't take it if Sam never remembered how close they were and how much he meant to his big brother.

"We'll find a way, Sammy…I promise you…if I have to summon that frickin' demon myself, I'll do it. It shouldn't be this way…you shouldn't be this way," he whispered softly as he continued to watch Sam sleep.

SNSNSNSN

"So nothing yet? There's not one damned thing in all those books of yours to tell us how to help Sammy?" John cried into his phone as he slid behind the wheel of the Impala, pushing the two greasy, aromatic paper bags into the middle to make room.

"I'm trying, Johnny, but there's nothing. It's looking more and more like this was a special deal. I'm thinking the only way to get answers is to summon the bitch and make her talk," Bobby hissed into John's ear, John's eyes widening a bit at the older hunter's use of profanity.

"No can do, Bobby. I can't risk her reversing everything…Dean will die if we do," John said tiredly as he brushed his hand over his face.

"It may be the only way. I don't know what else to tell ya. Sam really got himself in deep this time and I just don't think there's any way to get him out."

"Son of a bitch! If I'd only…if I hadn't ignored him…" John started, his chin dropping to his chest as he considered Sam's state of mind while watching his beloved brother die.

"John…you had a lot to deal with. You can't blame yourself for this."

"I shouldn't have taken Sam on the hunt. That harpy honed right onto him. If he hadn't been there, Dean wouldn't have had to jump between he and that thing! We would've killed it and everything would be fine right now," John said, self disgust evident in every word he uttered.

"You don't know that. It still could have ended badly. Sam could have been left alone."

"He wouldn't be alone, Bobby. You…Jim…Caleb and Josh. Between you all, you would have made sure he was taken care of," John replied as he reached forward and started the car.

"Wouldn't be the same and you know it. That boy needs his daddy and brother. I truly don't think he'd survive if he lost either of you. I mean…look what he did at the prospect of losing Dean."

John sighed and gazed out the windshield. "Yeah…I don't know. I just don't know what to do. It's going to devastate the boys. Dean's blaming himself…he's not going to take this well at all," he said softly.

"No…he won't. But, he may have to learn to live with it."

"What if we don't want to just live with it? It's not right, Bobby. I promised Sam I'd find a way to fix this. I can't go back there and tell him he's gonna be like that forever. Please…Bobby, you have to look some more. There has to be something," John pleaded, his voice cracking with emotion.

John heard Bobby sigh over the phone and could see him removing his hat and scratching frustratingly at his head. "Johnny…I'll look some more. Just…don't tell the boys anything yet. Maybe I missed something," he finally said.

"Yeah…thanks, Bobby. I appreciate it," John said with sigh of relief.

"Don't mention it, Johnny. You know how much those boys mean to us all," Bobby replied before disconnecting the call.

John closed his phone then dropped it on the seat beside him. He pulled out of the diner parking lot and maneuvered the Impala onto the street in the direction of the motel. He pushed his foot down on the gas pedal, his need to get back to his boys pushing him to hurry despite the posted speed limit of the small town. Five minutes later he was pulling in front of the room he had rented, his dark eyes moving toward the curtained window. He exited the car and pulled the bags and his phone from the seat. A sudden shiver went down his spine and he stopped and looked out over the parking lot, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. He glanced around for a few moments then shook his head before moving to the door. He placed the bags between his teeth and reached into his pocket for the key. Once he had the door unlocked he pushed into the room and smiled as his eyes washed over his boys. Dean lay on his side facing Sam, his hand resting protectively over the boy's waist while Sam had turned partially on his side facing his brother.

John dropped the bags onto the table and watched as Dean startled awake, his arm instinctively reaching over Sam and pulling him toward his body before his green eyes recognized that there was no threat. He let out a shaky breath and eased up from the bed. His eyes found the two diner bags and his stomach immediately growled when the aroma hit his nose. He turned and looked down at Sam before reaching out and gently shaking the boy awake.

"Hey, Sammy…Dad's back with the food," he said, the teen helping his brother to sit up when Sam's sightless eyes fluttered open.

"Mmm…smells good," Sam mumbled as he swung his legs over the edge of the bed.

John hurried to the bed and took Sam's searching hand as the boy stood on unsteady legs between the two beds. Dean came around the bed and waited as John guided Sam toward the table, the teen pulling out a chair for his floundering brother. Once Sam was safely seated and his chair pushed into the table, John and Dean moved around the table, Dean taking the other chair and John leaning against the wall as he pulled the food he had brought from the bag. Soon, all three Winchesters were eagerly eating their meal, the two elder men watching closely as Sam carefully put each forkful into his mouth. The boy, sensing eyes upon him, glanced up, his strange white eyes moving between the two men, but not quite honing in on them.

"What?" Sam asked self consciously as he lowered his eyes to the table.

"Nothing, Sammy. Just…uh…you're doing pretty good for not…well, you know," Dean replied softly.

Sam smiled slightly and lifted his fork again. "It's okay, Dean…I may not be able to see, but I know where my mouth is," he said with a slight smirk.

"Smartass," Dean mumbled before going back to eating his food.

John shook his head and smiled at his boys before thoughts of his conversation with Bobby flooded his mind and he dropped his eyes so Dean couldn't see the worry on his face. He couldn't let either son know what Bobby had said. He had to have faith that Bobby would find something even though it was looking as if Sam could remain this way for the rest of his life. John took a deep breath, steadied his nerves then looked back up at his sons. Dean was watching Sam intently before he glanced up at his father and tilted his head. John tried to mask his worries, but he could tell the exact moment when Dean figured out that something wasn't right. Dean gazed at his father then turned his gaze to his brother. Finally, he looked back up at John, his eyes filling as he realized what it was that could make his father look so miserable.

"No," Dean mouthed silently as he shook his head in denial, a single tear escaping down his cheek as he watched his father drop his eyes again.

Dean slowly turned his head, his green eyes once again lighting upon his baby brother. He silently set his fork on the table and dropped his hands into his lap. Sam, sensing the change in his brother, turned in the older boy's direction.

"Dean? What's wrong?" Sam asked cautiously.

Dean glanced up at his father before returning his gaze to Sam. "Nothing, Sammy," he answered softly.

Sam tilted his head and narrowed his eyes. "I can tell something's wrong, Dean. What is it?" he asked again, his voice holding a hint of frustration.

"It's…I just got a little dizzy is all. It's not a big deal," Dean finally said.

"What? Are you okay?" Sam cried as he dropped his fork into his food container.

Dean pushed back from the table and scooted toward his brother. He reached out and rested his hand on his suddenly agitated brother's shoulder. "I'm fine, Sam. I'm just hungrier than I thought. Got a little light headed," he explained as he gave Sam's shoulder a gentle squeeze.

Sam bit nervously at his lower lip as he contemplated his brother's words. "Are you sure?" he asked softly, his voice shaky and unsure.

"I'm sure, Sammy. I'm fine…really," Dean answered. "Now, can we eat?"

Sam smiled, his body relaxing as relief flooded through him. "Yeah…okay," he replied.

Dean looked up at John and shook his head before scooting back in front of his food and taking up his fork. The three Winchesters finished their meals in silence, the two older ones stealing glances at each other, their fear clearly written on their faces as they both dealt with the very real possibility of never getting the old Sam back.

That's all for now. I'll have more up in a few days. Love you all.

Cindy