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9.

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Before John had the chance to react, Bobby pulled his fist back and slammed it in to John's face with an animalistic growl, rearing back to strike the oldest Winchester again when a strangled no pulled him up short and his eyes cast down to where Dean was clutching Sam to him as his little brothers tiny form shuddered with sobs.

'What the hell do you think you're doing John?' Bobby demanded of the man he had considered a good friend for a long time, an ally. Releasing his hold on John like a bad disease Bobby sank down to his knees and pried Sam away from Dean and cradled him in his arms, whispering soft words of comfort to the kid before asking him to help Dean to lounge room and lay him down on the sofa.

Once the boys had made their slow exit Bobby turned on John again with a menacing look that silenced anything John was about to say. 'You better have a damn good reason for showing up here after three fucking months without so much as a phone call, and then beating the shit out of your sick fucking son! Did you get any of the messages?' Bobby was on a roll now, unable to stop himself. 'Any of the messages about what happened to Dean, the coma or the stomach surgery? And I see you kick him in the stomach, right where he still has an open wound.'

Stunned silence hung in the air as John sighed and sank back against the wall where he sank down to his butt and rested his pounding head in his knees, reeling from Bobby's blow, physical and verbal. In truth he didn't know what had come over him, he had never struck either of his kids in that way, with the intention to hurt. He wanted to put it down to exhaustion from the drive, stress from being stuck in a cave for two and a half months, anything that could explain the misery and pain he had just laid in to Dean.

But there was no excuse, only blind rage because Dean was being evasive and wasn't following his orders. John wondered if he would have struck his son earlier if he hadn't always been so pliable. His thoughts were broken in to by Sam's small voice, directed at Bobby; his youngest son couldn't even look in his slumped direction.

'Dean's belly is bleeding…' Sam whispered in a small voice, tears still running down his cheeks. Bobby's heart broke, the kid's words reminding him just how young the thirteen year old really was.

'Go and get the first aid kit out of the study for me Sam, I will be right through.' Bobby turned around and opened the kitchen drawer and pulled out a pair of hand cuffs as Sam retreated. When he approached him, John looked up and raised his eye brows in question to the cuffs. 'You aren't getting out of this the easy way. Not going to give you the chance to rabbit on me because you can't handle what you just did, not this time John.' The older man's eyes overshadowed with memory.

Dean had been Sam's age when John had showed up with his sons, he had signed Dean out of the hospital AMA after he had been severely injured on his first hunt. John had been wracked with guilt and dumped the boys three days after his arrival and hadn't come back for two weeks. When he did arrive back he smelt of whiskey and sweat, his face a grizzled mess of depression and bar fights. Bobby wasn't going to let Winchester have that option again, not this time.

Cuffs in place, Bobby felt safe in leaving the room. When he stepped in to the lounge room his breath caught in his throat and his heart constricted at the sight that lay in front of him on the sofa. Dean was curled in on himself, clutching at his stomach with pinched features that were already starting to mottle and swell under the split skin and blood. It took a measurable amount of restraint not to march back in to the kitchen with a loaded shot gun and fill John Winchester with several rounds of rock salt, enough to make the man howl in misery.

For the second time Bobby shifted to his knees and placed gentle hands on Dean's forearms. 'You need to lay straight buddy, just like that, that's the way.' Bobby soothed gently as Dean's shaking frame slowly undulated.

Dean didn't know what hurt more, the pulsing ache from his cheek bone that was almost swelling his left eye shut, or the spreading pain being emitted from his stomach as he felt the warm stickiness of blood spread across his abdomen. Not unfamiliar with the feeling of freshly healed tissue and skin being torn open, Dean certainly didn't rate it high up on the list of things to repeat on a regular basis. His stomach felt like he had gone two rounds with a toying Wendigo.

Blinking bleary eyes up at Bobby he threw a hand out and clutched at his surrogate fathers shirt in pain and fear. 'Y-You never did tell me what to do- to do when he s-showed up.' Dean laughed shortly, coughing and gasping from the pain. 'Why…' Dean didn't understand why his father had hit him, he never had before, and Dean didn't think his father was that type of man. No matter how much he pushed his sons sometimes, he would never strike them in anger. It hurt more than Dean was willing to admit.

'I was stupid; thinking all of this could work. When all this,' Dean motioned to his battered body, 'is over we will pack up and get out of your hair. We shouldn't have brought this down on you Bobby… Sorry.' Dean swallowed thickly and pressed his head back in to the pillow Sam had put there for him, biting his lip through the pain till he felt blood trickle down his cheek. 'Maybe I can talk dad in to leaving Sam here with you… I can-can't have dad turning on-on him like this.' Tears rolled from Dean's good eye as he turned his head away from Bobby and let his hand fall from the old man's shirt to flop beside him.

'There is no way in hell I am letting either of you boys go with that man.' Bobby hissed. 'I should have put my foot down the first time he played hide and seek like this with you boys.' Bobby's face was scrunched in sadness and anger when Dean turned to face him. 'He's gone too far this time Dean.' Dean just nodded; he was too tired to try anymore, to keep fighting.

'Dean?' Sam squeaked from the doorway, almost hidden from sight by the bulk of the first aid kits he was carrying. Bobby stood up quickly and took most of the heavy kits from Sam with a wide eyed look of shock.

'Gee kid I said to grab one, not the whole god damn artillery.' Bobby laughed gruffly as he placed them down by the sofa. 'Doesn't matter though, good to be prepared.' He patted Sam on the head and lifted him up to sit on the arm of the sofa at Dean's head. 'Clean off the blood for me?' Sam nodded; eager to help.

'Dean?' They all froze at the female voice, Dean's good eye going wide in shock when he realised it was his girlfriend, calling timidly from the kitchen. 'Oh my God! Sir are you okay?' Bobby was on his feet in seconds, clearing the space to the kitchen in record time.

'Linda sorry about this, but would you mind going back home? As you can see we have a bit of a situation here.' Bobby waved his hand at John who was slumped against the oven, hands cuffed above his head. 'Dean will call you when he gets the chance, he's a little indisposed at the moment.' He took the young girl by the arm, unable to hide the smirk. Dean was in for a good time this afternoon he realised when he took in the girls jacket and the frilly lace that was poking above the collar.

'Uh is he okay, can I see him for a moment?' Linda asked, unconsciously pulling the large jacket around her body in response to the situation. 'Do you need me to call the police, did he break in?' She pointed at John, casting him a disdainful look.

'No, no it's okay Linda. Dean will call you tomorrow okay?' The eighteen year old nodded and backed out of the room. She paused at the door for a moment and gave Bobby one last questioning look before leaving.

'I swear you destroy everything you touch John Winchester.' Bobby hadn't meant for the words to slip past, didn't know if John had even heard them they were so quiet, but he couldn't help but believe them. It was hard to imagine how better off the boys would have been if John had simply left them in care.

Bobby could remember offering the man who sat across from him, hurt and broken as he nursed a beer, to take in his sons while he hunted for the demon that took the most important part of his small family away from them. But John had denied him the offer, growled at him how it wasn't his place and the boys deserved their chance at revenge. Even as Dean refused to speak and Sam cried and cried for a mother that wasn't going to nurse him ever again. It had broken Bobby's heart ear after year as he watched the boys grow up to be cold and violent.

Silently, Bobby made it his mission to revert the boys back to some sense of normality. Promised they would get the chance to live the life Dean secretly always wanted, even if he didn't voice it much.

Back in the lounge room Sam was just finishing wiping the blood from Dean's face gently. With all the copper staining gone, the bruises were livid and angry. Bobby swallowed glumly when he looked at Dean's cheek. This was going to be a hospital job; he had hoped that wouldn't come to that option. But looking closer at the cheek he could see the whiteness of bone poking ever so slightly from beneath the broken skin. It was a clean compound fracture. Damn John Winchester to Hell. He thought grimly.

'I'm going to have to take your brother to the hospital Sam.' Dean's eyes shot open in alarm and despite the obvious amount of pain it caused him, he began to violently shake his head and sit up in protest. 'I know son, I was hoping it wouldn't be required but yer cheeks broken Dean; and who knows what damage was done to yer stomach.' The teenager slumped back in defeat, silent. 'I'm just going to have a look okay?' Dean nodded.

Gently lifting the shirt away from Dean's stomach, Bobby couldn't help but wince. It wasn't as bad as he thought it could have been, the skin had reopened and was bleeding freely. He knew that not two days ago the wound had closed over and began to heal. Now it was open an angry all over again, maybe even requiring a few stitches. Scratching his head in concern and deep thought, Bobby made the decision.

'Sam could you get yer brother a jacket and some shoes? Maybe even a blanket. I'm going to dress this and get him ready to go, going to need a few stitches and some x-rays I reckon.' Sam nodded and jogged upstairs. 'I'll be right back son, just gotta deal with yer daddy.' Bobby groaned as his knees protested against getting up and down on them.

In the kitchen Bobby looked John dead in the eyes, this would end now. First he would get an answer, than he would sort John out. 'Where have you been?' He demanded.

'I was finishing the hunt; the boys were hurt so I high tailed it out of the woods. When they were well and taken care of in the hospital I went back. Job had to be finished. There was a cave in; I was locked in with the thing. Spent the past three months hunting it down and living of stale water and energy bars, whatever wildlife got in to keep me going.' John let a sigh. 'I finally killed it, spent a few days looking for a way out after that.'

'You didn't tell Dean where you going because?' Bobby asked next.

'I didn't think I was going to be gone so long. Plus he was out with concussion, couldn't wake him to tell him anyway.' John knew it sounded stupid and weak, but he had no other answer.

'What did you do when you got back out? Did you even think about the boys, consider where they might be? How long did it take you to look at your phone?' Bobby knew there were no excuses to offer this time, John did what he always did. Put himself and his own needs first. Bobby knew he was right by the guilty look John struggled to hide.

'I went back to the motel, they weren't there but my stuff was in lost property so I set up for the night, showered while my phone charger, then went to sleep.'

'What about all the messages, the voice mails?' John's eyes darkened when the third degree continued, he shouldn't have to sit through this. Didn't deserve it, Dean had betrayed his orders. He should be in here dealing with it instead of hiding behind Bobby. 'If you cared about those boys one little bit, as much as you cared about that damn demon you would have come here straight away. You wouldn't have abused your son, the only one mind you who does what you tell him to without question.'

'He should have known better then to stay here for so long! The moment that cast was off Sam's leg they should have been back out there in the job, or looking for me!' John shouted back.

'Looking for you?' Bobby scoffed. 'You disappear more than a fucking magician does John! Those boys got over looking for you a long time ago.' Pacing now, Bobby took his cap off and ran his hand over his hair before pulling it back on again. 'Why did you hit John? You broke his fucking cheek bone, clean through the skin.' John paled at his words, but the steely determination he wasn't in the wrong here remained in his cold, controlling eyes.

'I don't know… I just lost control. Not used to him ignoring my orders…' It wasn't a good enough reason, it was pathetic and John knew it the moment it left his lips and he wished he could bite them back and say something else, anything else. But Bobby was shaking his head now.

'I am going to go back in there and put a compound dressing on your sons stomach, stop the bleeding from the wound your size 12 boot just tore back open so he can go and get stitched up the normal way. Then I am going to come back here to get some ice for his face; and un-cuff you. By the time I come back through, you better be gone or I am going to fill you with so much rock salt you won't be right for days.' Bobby threatened. 'You just lost any right you ever had to those boys.' He left the room and sank down to his sore knees once more and looked down at Dean's face, peaceful as he drifted in unconsciousness.

Bobby hoped he was doing the right thing, leading these boys down a new path as Sam walked back in to the room with a large hoodie and a pair of boots for Dean. Pulling out a dressing he pressed it down on Dean's stomach and taped it there.

'Sam, if you want to say good bye to your dad I suggest you do it now. He won't be coming back around here again, I made that nice and clear.' Sam just shook his head and stroked Dean's forehead, looking scared. 'Is that what you want? Do you want your dad out of your life Sam?' Sammy nodded slowly, wiping tears out of his eyes. 'Do you reckon Dean will be okay with that?' This time he shook his head, a little unsure. 'Do you want to wake him up so we can ask him?' A nod this time.

'Dean, come on son time to wake up.' Bobby kneaded his sternum until Dean's eyes fluttered open groggily, shadowing from the pain he was in; hands clenching against the sofa cushions. 'I have an important question for you Dean; you really need to answer me okay?' He nodded.

'I need to know if you are okay with me sending your dad away for good.' Dean's eyes went wide in fear and his mouth opened and closed in shock. 'It's okay son, if you want him to stay he does.'

'I don't know…' He whispered. 'I can't keep living like this, but I can't handle the thought that we won't revenge mums death anymore. She'll hate us for giving up on her.' Dean whispered. Sam clutched his hands and started to cry.

'Your mother would want a better life then that Dean; she would be ashamed of John for putting you boys through this. He just doesn't see that, he's too blinded by revenge and grief to make a proper decision.' Dean nodded in agreement.

'Tell him, the only time he will see us is when I say so. He will send you monthly messages so we know he's alive but that's all. Nothing else.' Dean was struggling to keep his eyes open against the pain, all he wanted right now was to go to sleep and not wake up for a long time. But he knew that would kill Sammy right now, so he stayed semi-conscious, fighting the urge to pass out in to the inky blackness.

John had heard the conversation. He wanted to justify what Dean had said about his mother, about Mary. But Bobby was right; all John could see right now was revenge. So when Bobby came in to un-cuff him he said he would keep to Dean's terms, surprised he was being allowed any contact at all after what he had done to his oldest son. Underneath all the dark and heaviness of their life, it gave him a glimmer of hope. Something to return to when it was all done.

SPNSPNSPN

Lazing in bed, Dean sleepily looked up through a pain killer haze and smiled goofily at Sam, waving a floppy hand and patting the bed beside him. Sam crawled up beside him, careful not to nudge his cracked ribs or stitches and settled his head on Dean's shoulder.

'You need to hurry up and get better.' Sam said, looking Dean in the eye seriously. 'Bobby's cooking dinner, and singing. He's singing Dean. It's worse than yours.' Dean smirked and winced, pulling on the stitches in his cheek. 'Linda will be here in half an hour by the way. She stopped by earlier but you were way out of it.'

'Bobby's going to poison her.' He slurred. Sam laughed for the first time all week since Dean had come back home, things had been so tense between the boys since Dean had declared their dad a no go zone.

'Do you really think we are out Dean?' He whispered, snuggling in to his brother a little more.

Dean laid a hand across his shoulders and gave a small squeeze.

'Probably not kiddo, there will always be something. But right now, we enjoy what we have. Was Linda wearing a nurse uniform? She promised me she would, but that might be a little inappropriate for dinner.' Sam choked on his laughter, and Dean thumped him on the back. 'I'll be downstairs in a few, just got to get dressed in real clothes.' Sam slid off the bed with a nod and ran from the room smiling.

Picking up his mobile phone Dean turned it around in his hands and stared off into the distance as he contemplated calling his dad, or leaving him a message. Sighing heavily, he put the phone back on his bedside and slid on a pair of jeans and swapped around t-shirts. Standing up he walked to the bathroom to splash some water on his face, try and wash away the dopey effects of the pain killers and was stricken by his appearance.

There were still deep bruises mottling the delicate skin under his eyes, the stitching in his cheek looked angry and red against his pale pallor. With dizzying reality Dean leant against the sink and took in deep, heaving breaths that caused him to gag and cough over the pain. This is what he had become, all the stress and the fighting and the injuries; they all led to this in the end. Death. Dean couldn't help but familiarise his looks with those of the dead bodies they salt and burned, or the ghouls they hunted. He wouldn't have been surprised if Bobby served him a dish of rotting flesh when he went down stairs he looked that terrible.

How did Linda even look at him? Lifting the t-shirt with a grimace he took in his thin frame, the emaciated muscle and the protruding hip and rib bones that were exposed beneath the bandaging. Letting the shirt drop he turned away from his ghastly appearance and headed down stairs, determined to change this.

Even if it was just to prove to his dad that he could do this, could make a life outside of hunting. As long as the calm lasted, he would make it work.

TBC

Nice long chapter for you all. Hope you like it, I am little unsure of what response will come of this. But I would like to know what you the reader would like to happen from here on out. More Dean hurt? A case that draws them in regardless of their denial of getting involved?

I was considering having it a few years later and making it so they have to rescue their dad, but I want to explore their life with Bobby a bit more first. If you all let me know that would super lovely.

Thank you so much to those who have been taking the time to review the chapters as they read, it makes me so happy to get your responses. It means so so much!