Thanks for the reviews guys, you are all awesome xxx Some cute Sam being amazing and loving John to make up for the last chapter, and the story will only get fluffier from here, I promise!

Chapter 10

Now that Sam was safe at home with Jody keeping an eye on him, Bobby and John had set off back to where Sean was keeping Dean captive. They had waited the night, so they could come up with an action plan and patch up Bobby's arm, but John refused to get any sleep and they left at 5 in the morning.

Neither hunter could bear waiting any longer.

John couldn't believe that he had left in the first place…but Bobby was bleeding out and Sean had a gun to his son's heads…he couldn't risk playing a game of 'who can shoot fastest.' He had been a few meters away from Sean; Sean had his gun practically pressed to Dean's temple. There was no way John could have shot Sean without one of his boys being killed first…it wasn't worth the risk.

If Dean had been hurt, John could fix him.

It would take love, care and time, but he would put the little boy back together.

If he had taken the risk and Sean had shot Dean…there would be no fixing, just death.

At least this way the boy had a chance at life, and Sam would still have a brother.

But still…it had only been a single night, but John was terrified by the prospect of how much damage may have been done.

All of his work putting Dean back together had probably been eradicated and the boy was probably even more broken than before.

He couldn't stop going over things in his head…how had Dean's father found them? Dean had run away years ago…Dean wasn't on any database.

One explanation was that he had been smart…somehow tracked online movements- people looking for profiles that fitted Dean on records. It was a possibility, maybe the man had seen John had been snooping around and traced back his signal…maybe.

John pushed the though to the back of his mind…for now.

When they reached their destination, John walked into the house calmly, picking the lock of the newly fixed front door and entering the hallway with as much stealth and silence as possible. Bobby had already disabled the alarms…two could play at that game.

He then motioned to Bobby that the hall was clear and saw Sean sprawled out on the couch in the living room.

He was surrounded by three empty bottles of whiskey and had clearly passed out. It looked as if he had had his fun with Dean, and had enjoyed 'a few' drinks in celebration. After all, the guy probably thought John was gone for good now that he had Sam.

In his mind Dean was worthless and not worth coming back for.

John disagreed.

What Sean didn't know, was that there would be no tomorrow in which he could continue abusing his son.

His life was over, and it was all too easy for John to raise the gun.

But before he shot, he took a closer look at Sean's limp form.

The man didn't look smart or clever enough to track John online…he looked like an alcoholic thug...maybe he had seen Dean out an about in the front garden by chance. It was unlikely but…maybe.

John banished the thoughts from his mind.

He didn't care how this man had tracked Dean down.

All he cared about was ending his miserable life and making him pay.

For all John cared, he could rot in hell.

John cocked his gun and flipped off the safety, aiming straight at the man's heart. He was about to pull the trigger when he felt Bobby's good hand on his shoulder.

"Are you sure you want to do this, son? There'll be no goin' back."

"I'm sure."

And with that, John squeezed the trigger.

The bullet didn't travel in slow motion like it did in the movies, and there was no dramatic screaming or victim doubling to the floor, clutching their wound.

Sean did not use his dying words to beg for forgiveness…he remained unconscious the whole time.

John watched coldly as the man bled out in front of him.

He had expected to feel elated, he had killed the man who had bought unimaginable suffering into Dean's life – but he felt nothing. Everything was numb.

He hunted monsters, not people. This was the first human he had ever killed.

And he felt nothing.

"C'mon John, we need to find Dean." Bobby shook John out of his reverie and practically had to manhandle the younger man upstairs, where they saw yet another locked door.

This time, Bobby did the honours, picking the lock rather than kicking it down so as not to terrify Dean.

By the time they got in the room, John had managed to gather himself a bit before kneeling down by the bed – he knew exactly where Dean would be hidden.

"Dean, hey Champ, it's me. C'mon Ace, please, c'mon out of there. You're safe, it's all over now, he can't hurt you anymore, you're safe. C'mon, please Dean, I need you to come out. Sammy needs you."

Dean didn't answer John's pleas, remaining curled in a ball
beneath the bed. He was shaking violently, clutching his chest with his good arm and sobbing. His shoulder was sending searing spikes of pain down his entire arm and the flow was only just beginning to slow.

The memory of the knife going straight through him made Dean gag a little, but that just made the pain in his chest intensify.

He'd only just been able to crawl into his hiding place, and he had no intention of coming out.

Eventually, John realized that Dean was not coming out of his own accord, so he reached beneath the bed and groped around until he found Dean's skinny frame. It was slick with warm, red liquid.

It had only been a night but Dean felt skinnier and more frail than usual – but that was probably John's imagination.

Dean could feel John's hands on him and he screamed. His whole body felt like it was being pierced with knives when his broken ribs moved inside him and his bruised flesh was stretched.

"Shhh, it's alright." John tried to hush Dean desperately and as gently as he could, he slid the child out from under the bed and into his arms, luckily avoiding his chest. Dean whimpered when his broken ankle touched the ground and he was shaking uncontrollably in John's grip, keening loudly.

Despite the pain, he wriggled and struggled weakly against John's hold.

John wouldn't let him go, shushing Dean as he mewled in terror.

"It's me, DEAN! Look at me, it's me, John. I'm here now."

Dean finally seemed to come to his senses, blinking up at John slowly as a look of relief spread across his features.

"J-"

"Shhh, don't talk Dean, an ambulance is coming. We're gonna say I'm your biological father, ok? As far as you know, the man downstairs is a stranger who randomly kidnapped you, alright?"

Dean nodded softly and eased his head into John's lap, where he fell unconscious.

While waiting for the ambulance, John wrapped up Dean's shoulder and held a sheet to his back in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

…SN…SN…SN…SN…SN…

Jody was bouncing on the balls of her feet in the waiting room of the hospital, only sitting down to flick through a page or two of OK magazine. She'd gotten the call from Bobby to take Sam to the hospital to meet Dean – but she had only just been able to make out the situation over the background noise of sirens and shouting voices.

Now that she had been filled in, she was sick with worry.

Bobby wasn't faring off any better; he was sat with his elbows resting on his knees, absentmindedly fiddling with his hat. He looked haunted.

Sammy was beside himself, sobbing into his father's shoulder as images of Sean stabbing Dean rampaged through his brain. His wrists were still aching from the handcuffs, but that was nothing in comparison to the ache in his heart.

But it was John who was failing to cope completely; he was sat rigid in his chair, absently carding his hands through Sam's hair. His eyes were glazed over and he was shaking softly – no one knew whether this was a result of tension, fear or anger at the situation.

The hunter had shut down after going through 'what had really happened' with the police. He made up some story about Dean being kidnapped on a family outing and a car chase in which he had lost Dean and the stranger. John couldn't remember what he had said about how he had found Dean, but he knew that in the fake account, Sean had a gun to Dean's head and that John had no choice other than to shoot.

When asked about the gun he had used, John said it belonged to Sean and that he had found it on a coffee table.

And as for the alcohol bottles on the scene and any evidence that would disprove their story – Bobby had sorted that.

The idiots-in-suits believed everything, and left stating that they would be in touch.

John's reverie was interrupted by a nurse walking into the waiting room.

"Hello, are you the Winchester family?"

John sprung to his feet, practically knocking Sam flying.

"Is he-is he ok?!"

"It's ok Sir, your son is in a stable condition. We are confident that with time, he will be alright."

"What's the diagnosis?"

"He has four broken ribs, as well as a fully-penetrating stab wound in his left shoulder, multiple deep lacerations on his back and bruising. All wounds have been stitched and bandaged."

"Ok…that's…good."

"Yes. The most worrying injury in terms of permanent damage is his broken ankle; we had to do corrective surgery and inserted multiple metal plates and screws to place the bones back where they need to be. It will take about twelve weeks for the ankle to heal, although it may take longer to regain full movement of the lower leg and foot. He will have to rest it…no strenuous activities or sports."

John nodded again and sank down against the wall, drawing in a shaky breath and letting out a choked sob.

"If you would like to see him, we can allow one visitor."

John nodded, standing shakily and heading over to the nurse.

But Sam also jumped up.

"I need to see him! Please!"

"Uh, your brother isn't very well sweetie, it may be distressing to view him like that. It's best if we leave this to the grown ups."

"NO! I WANNA SEE DEAN!" Sam thundered, his eyebrows knitting together as he crossed his arms stubbornly.

The nurse sighed and nodded, showing John and Sam the way to Dean's room.

"Just press the call button if you need anything."

"Thanks."

Sam shot forwards as soon as the door was opened, running up to Dean's bed and grabbing his hand. Dean was lying on his right side so as not to jar his ribs, arm or back and he was deathly pale.

"DEAN! Dean! Wake up!" Sam whimpered, tears slipping down his cheeks.

Dean peeled open his eyes and moaned softly, tears filling his eyes at the sight of his brother and John.

"…" He tried to speak but nothing came out and John shushed him tenderly, running a hand through the boy's short, spiky hair.

"You're ok, its all over now. He's gone." Tears fell faster down Dean's face and his breathing hitched and became shallow.

Sam, who couldn't bear seeing Dean so upset, cuddled his brother close, wrapping his skinny arms around Dean's frame and snuggling up close. He began to hum Dean's favorite songs by Metallica and Led Zeppelin – Dean constantly sang them, and by the fifth song Dean seemed to relax a little.

He shifted slightly and found himself resting on something soft and fluffy…which turned out to be Sam's toy dog from before.

Dean pulled it out from beneath him and held the toy, burying his face in it and breathing in the familiar scent of his Sammy.

"You can keep Spot, I don't need him any more. Besides, he'll protect you from the monsters."

John watched as Dean curled gratefully around the toy and his brother, both boys spooning as close as they could before falling asleep, wrapped up in the warmth of blankets and each other's body heat.

He couldn't have been prouder of his two boys, Dean for beginning to pull through and Sam for being so loving and understanding. HE didn't know where his son had gotten it from, knowing that music would calm Dean down, but he was glad they had their own way of communicating.

And as for giving Dean Spot, Sam and that toy had been inseparable for years…if there was ever a sign of love and trust, that was it.

…SN…SN…SN…SN…SN…

When Dean woke again, the first thing he did was burst into tears when he realized Sam was gone from his side. He wouldn't stop crying until John sat on his bed next to him and lifted his head onto his lap. Although the nurses told Dean not to move too much, John figured this was a lot less dangerous than Dean having a panic attack and moving that way.

"Hey, c'mon, its just you, me, Sammy and Bobby now. Ok?" John cuddled Dean, who finally seemed to relax.

"I-I-"

"Shhhhh, shhhhhhhhh. It's all ok."

"Sammy?"

"He's on his way, he and Bobby went to the toilet, but they'll be back in a minute."

Right on cue, Bobby and Sam returned. Technically Dean was still only allowed one visitor, but Bobby and Sam had refused to leave and eventually the staff gave in.

"DEAN!" Sam ran over to his brother, throwing his arms around his neck and causing Dean to let out a small screech of pain. He flushed softly and quickly covered up the noise with an overly-cheerful greeting.

"Hey Sammy!"

"Are you ok? Oh god, I thought…I was so scared…I-I didn't want to go to the toilet in case something happened, but I couldn't hold it!"

"S'okay Sammy." Dean whispered, hugging his brother with his good arm before falling asleep again with his head resting on John's lap and Sam laid down against his side.

…SN…SN…SN…SN…SN…

"G'way! Leave me alone! No-NOOOO!" Dean screamed, writhing around frantically in his sleep. He was thrashing around so wildly that he managed to yank a couple of his IVs out and he jostled all of his stitches, but he was too out of it to realize.

"Nooooooooooooooo!" Dean gasped, kicking out with his good leg.

"Dean! Dean, calm down! Dean, wake up, son. Please wake up." John shook Dean gently until the little boy gasped and sat up, shaking all over and sweating.

"J-John…he-he…I-he-"

"Shhhh, it was a dream. Just a dream. It's not real. It was just a nightmare."

John soothed, kissing Dean's forehead gently.

With a sigh, John smelt that Dean had wet the bed again and he lifted his son up, placing him in a guest chair before doing the same with Sam – who had also been sleeping in Dean's bed.

"S-s-sorry. D'didn't mean to. I didn't mean to be bad. I-I'm sorry."

"It's ok Dean, it wasn't your fault. C'mon, let me help you get cleaned up."

Dean remained silent as John carried him to the bathroom and helped him wash his legs and genitals, and then change into a clean pair of pajamas. His ankle twinged a little, but he didn't complain. He simply clung ape-like to John with his arms around the hunter's neck and his legs around his waist.

He watched mortified as the nurses changed his sheets, wiped down the mattress protector, remade the bed and lifted Sam into it. Once they were done, Dean too was lowered into the bed and tucked in, John kissing his nose and handing him Spot before telling him that this wasn't his fault and to go back to sleep.

It was Dean's ninth night at hospital and every night, at least three times, he would wake up terrified. He also wet the bed at least once per night…on his second at the hospital the nurses had needed to change his sheets four times…

On the third night they had softly told John that they might have to insert a catheter or put Dean in adult diapers.

Of course, John had flipped.

There was no way any nurses were sticking something up his boy's penis…he was hurt and terrified enough as it was. Besides, Dean wouldn't let the nurses anywhere near him, let alone down there.

And Dean deserved to have what was left of his dignity left in tact…he was not incontinent, just scared.

In the end, they had compromised with rubber mattress protectors, which were uncomfortable and made weird noises whenever the Winchesters moved…but at least they weren't as intrusive as the other options.

…SN…SN…SN…SN…SN…

Dean was just as bad in the daytime.

He wouldn't let John or Sam out of his sight, clinging onto them frantically and sobbing whenever they had to leave his side – even if it was just for a few minutes as they washed or went to the toilet.

Whenever they were forced to leave so Dean could have a sponge bath, his wounds checked or injections (why John couldn't do it- hell knows), Dean would be inconsolable…he fought against the nurses and cried desperately until his family returned. On a few occasions, he would pull out his IVs and crawl under the bed…and if the nurses tried to restrain him, he would fight, kick and claw his way free.

In the end, John had taken to wrapping Dean in his leather jacket and only agreeing to leave when his surrogate son was asleep with Spot tucked under his arm.

Sam too rarely left Dean's side, spending his time reading Harry Potter Books out loud while his brother rested his ankle.

Despite this, Dean was getting restless.

He was constantly on edge in the unfamiliar surroundings and he constantly begged to go home.

Which was why everyone was thoroughly relieved a couple of weeks after Dean's run in with Sean, when his stitches were finally taken out and Dean was allowed to go home.

TBC…

Lots of fluff next, with upset!Dean and doting/loving John and Sam doing everything in their power (including bribery of a pie persuasion) to cheer him up! Next chapter may take a little while because I am majorly busy this week and have my May Ball on Friday :) – Can't wait to wear the dress I made!