Still don't own Sam, Dean or Supernatural or I'd be writing for the series.

Chapter 10,

Of witches and Gods.

Dean sat at the edge of a peaceful lake watching gulls swoop and dive into the clear waters. He was sitting by the shore waiting for Sam and John to join him for their evening bath. They usually got the bath part over with quickly then spent an hour just horsing around. It was a clear clean lake teaming with fish which they eat regularly. The only way to avoid fish was to shoot something. Subsequently they also eat a lot of rabbit, some partridge and had venison in the freezer. They were allowed to eat the venison only twice a week. Dean didn't mind the restriction a lot. It didn't taste like beef anyway. He watched the gulls diving for their dinner and wondered what roast gull would taste like.

Castiel appeared beside him shattering the illusion. Oh well it was nice while it lasted. Dean brought Castiel up to date on all recent events. The Angel agreed with Pastor Jim about Dean's truth/lie if for different reasons. Truth was simply the only option. Why did he tell them it was a convict instead of a demon?

"They wouldn't have believed me. They would have thought I was crazy."

"Why?"

"Because people don't believe in demons."

"Demons are real, Dean. How can people not believe in them?"

Dean groaned, it was like talking to a child, "The greatest lie Lucifer ever told was to convince people he doesn't exist." Dean offered and old adage.

"Lucifer, can not speak with humans. He did not tell this lie."

"No but his minions did. Cass do you have information for me?" Dean changed the subject.

"I have confirmed that the ritual preformed in Beaver Utah was a summoning of a demon known to you in pagan mythology." Castiel explained, "The demon is summoned to perform a specific task. Thousands of years ago demons were created to serve very specific functions. The most likely demons to be tormenting your father are the furies or Lyssa."

"The furies they drive people crazy?" Dean asked for conformation.

"Yes."

"And Lyssa, I don't know that one."

"The Greeks called this demon the Goddess of rage, fury and rabies in animals. We have extensive information on both"

"Can you down load all this into my laptop?" Dean asked excited.

"The top of your lap?" Castiel asked unfamiliar with the term.

"A machine that stores information." Dean explained patiently, "It's small thin has a screen and is in my car. Can you put the information on these demons in it and name the file, furies and Lyssa."

"Yes." Castiel answered without hesitation, "Is you're father delusional, disoriented, and irrational."

"No more enraged and irrational."

"He is not likely to be was under the influence of the Furies. Lyssa excites anger over things that are agitating the victim requiring no delusions or hallucinations, only rage."

"So she or it pushes his buttons about things he's already pissed at me for and he starts wailing on me?"

"Essentially."

"Funny, I already knew that." Dean mumbled.

He rose and began to stroll aimlessly about the shore line picking up stones and skipping them across the glassy surface of the lake. It was motion nothing more, something to do with his body while his mind struggled. Little in this world made sense to Dean. He understood the motivations of monsters, demons and spirits but he did not understand the point of their existence. He understood people were driven by passion, greed and many other emotions but he could not comprehend, many or even most of their methods of obtaining their desires. God created everything in heaven and on earth then skipped out and let everything run amok. That made the least sense of all. Dean did everything his father ever asked, gave him everything he had to give and the man could find nothing of worth or value in his son. What was so wrong with him? Dean grabbed a large stone and hurled it toward the center of the lake with every ounce or frustration and anger he felt at that moment and it was great. He then opened his mouth and lungs and sent a mighty cry of rage and anguish after it. The exorcise was painful and exhausting and was followed by tears. Enormous tears slid down his face dripping off his chin and moistening his shirt. John's resistance to the changes in Dean, his stronger more assertive and independent self of twenty ten suggested to Dean that unquestioning loyalty and obedience was what his father wanted from Dean but not what he could love or respect. Yet John said he was proud of him, even went to hell for him. Of all the things in Dean's life that he did not understand his father was the least comprehensible.

"You appear to be in distress." Castiel felt the need to say something,

The servant of the Lord had no idea what he was interrupting or what the repercussions might be but his time was limited and if more was needed from him they could not wait. Dean turned toward him his eyes wide, pain filled and angry.

"Have I incurred your wrath?" He asked.

"Cass, you do everything your father says, give him everything you've got to give right?"

"Of course." The Angel replied finding any other way inconceivable.

"How would you feel if your father told you thanks a bunch but you're nothing but a piece of shit he'd like to step on?"

"I would feel nothing. I do not feel." Castiel replied hesitantly, confused by the question.

"Right. So. How do we stop this bitch Lyssa?

"There must be am amulet or talisman on the person of the one controlling the demon. If it is destroyed the demon will be free of it's master's control."

"And will turn on it's master?" Dean asked hopefully

"That is very likely."

"Great, one more thing Cass. The demons used me to break the first seal. I was the righteous man that spilled blood in hell. This time I exorcised a demon they had watching Sam which probably tipped them off to the fact that I'm on to them. Can they just kill me and use someone else or do Sam and I have to book end this thing?"

"I do not know. I still have much to discover about the prophecies." Cass answered though he wasn't sure what the question meant.

"Okay. But if they wanted to kill me they would just do it. Send a demon. Having my father beat me to death seems a little out there. Azazel, would appreciate the poetry in it, but he's not active right now. He has a plan and Demon's don't change in the middle of a plan cause a miner detail slips out of place. They'll just push it back where they want it. What are they trying to do?"

"What has having your father beat you accomplished?" Castiel asked, "How have you both been damaged or redirected?"

"That's an excellent question Cass." Dean agreed, "I'll have to sleep on it."

"You are sleeping." Castiel pointed out.

"Thank you for that insight." Dean snarked.

"You're welcome."

"Good bye Cass." Dean grinned.

Cass disappeared and Dean's eyes popped opened to morning sun. The nurses were usually good about keeping the curtains closed to protect his eyes while he had drops in them. Either word was out that the drops were stopped last week or there was a new nurse. A hot one he hopped. Helen was a good nurse but she was middle aged and a little frumpy. With the swelling gone, the bruising starting to fade and the patches covering his scares Dean hoped he could get a little special attention. It wasn't long before Dean heard the breakfast cart coming down the hall. He raised his bed and carded his hair in an attempt to rid himself of bed head despite the fact that almost half his head was shaved and bandaged. The lady that walked in the door carrying his breakfast was not quite what he was hoping for. Though a little mature for Dean she was sexy in a been there done that way, which he could appreciate. She greeted him with a bright hello and introduced herself as Lizzie. She placed the tray on the table then pushed it in front of him before checking the food to make sure it was the restricted diet ordered for him. Juice, cream of wheat, yogurt and coffee. Dean was grateful he was finely getting his morning coffee.

"Just a minute." she asked while checking the cart, "Yes they are starting to lift some of your restrictions, "Cream cereal. Here's your spoon. Can you handle this or do you need help?"

"I'm good." Dean replied offering her a suggestive smile, "Unless you'd like to stick around."

"Oh I have lots of work thanks, sweetie." she grinned, "Maybe a little later."

Well that wasn't exactly a no. Later? The therapists would be there at nine thirty working the traction pulleys moving his leg up and down to exorcise his new knee. Later he'd be covered in sweat and in significant pain from the therapy. That would be no fun. Then Doc Maggie would be in and there just wouldn't be any time for nurse Lizzie. No fun at all. Doc. Maggie surprised him by showing up half way through his breakfast such as it was.

"What brings you here this early?" Dean asked, "Are you changing the time for our appointment?"

"No not at all." She replied moving the chair to her preferred spot, "I heard you caused a little stir in the wee hours."

"I did?" Dean asked, "News to me."

"It seems you gave out this terrible scream of pain and then cried in your sleep." Maggie said as she read a piece of paper, "The nurse was going to wake you up but you settled down right away so she let you sleep."

"I'm sorry I didn't know." Dean stammered completely embarrassed.

"You don't have to apologize Dean." Maggie assured him, "Looking after patients is their job. Can you tell me what happened?"

"Just a nightmare.' Dean answered instinctively hiding his eyes.

"Could you try to tell me about it. Often talking about them makes them go away." She coxed.

"Some things never change Maggie. You can't fix everything." Dean gave a little.

"There is one thing we can always change, make that two."

He grinned and deliberately took the bate, "What's that?"

"We can always change our mind and we can change ourselves."

Dean's grin grew wider, "Yah I suppose most of the time but some things will never change." He sighed, "Sometimes you just got to play the hand you're dealt."

Maggie stroked his cheek and smiled saying, "No you don't. You just decide to save yourself"

Dean couldn't help looking at her longingly wishing that were true. In the past five years the best time he had was when he was on his own. All his life it was what he feared the most. Everyone leaving him. Having no one to love and care for. Yet when it finely happened Dean was amazed by how peaceful it was. No one to worry about, no one to fight with or fighting him, trying to push him in one way or another. No one to bleed for. He could take some time and think about himself for a change. Sure it was a little lonely on those long drives but for the fist time in his life he was free.

Doc Maggie stayed till the therapists came. It was the longest most involved chat they had and when she left he actually felt better. Dean couldn't say why but he did.

The therapy lasted a full half hour of bend and straighten, bend and straighten trying to bend a little more and straighten a little more with each set. It wasn't agony but it was constant pain. By the time they left he was always exhausted. And to think the brace was going to be worse. Sometimes life sucks. Sometimes it didn't. Lizzie came in with a bowl, soap and water. Bed baths can be embarrassing and uncomfortable and sometimes they can, well, still be a little embarrassing but not uncomfortable, even fun. Lizzie didn't mind flirting one damned bit. She smiled easily was pretty quick herself but Dean knew it was all in play. He could always tell by the look in a ladies eyes. Sometimes you chased whether the look was there or not. But sometimes you just have fun because it's there to be had.

Lizzie handed him the cloth to clean his private area and though he took it without hesitation he snarked,, "You're not fun."

"Well if you insist." she answered holding out her hand.

"So'k, I'm a good sport." He replied and did the job himself.

"Took your time." she remarked when he handed back the cloth.

"Lot to clean." He fired back.

"Got me." she returned and laughed.

"Yah, that's not easy." Dean laughed but stopped when she went to the traction and started lowering the leg, "What are you doing?"

"It's okay, I checked first." Lizzie reacted to his alarmed face rather than the snapped question, "Trust me you're going to love this. Start raising the bed slowly. Make yourself comfortable sitting up. And sit up don't lean back. Here I'll help you."

Lizzie got behind him and helped him into a comfortable sitting position then got on the bed behind him. She filled her hand with an oily lotion and began the most artful back rub he'd ever had. She soothed all his aching muscles and rubbed away all the bed sore spots.

"Oh that's so good." Dean crooned, "You are really good at this."

"Careful what you say." Lizzie giggled, "People might misunderstand."

"Let them. Give them something to gossip about." Dean chuckled.

"Oh I can here it now, my new nick name, cougar."

"You are not that old." Dean complained.

"I have a teen aged son."

"Wow, you got pregnant in junior high." Dean remarked making her laugh.

"Oh Dean, my boy wouldn't like you."

"Sure he would, we could be buddies. Does he like classic cars. I have a 67 Impala. She's cherry." He pushed making her laugh again.

"He complains I'm to fast for him. You'd drive him crazy." She exaggerated her sigh, "Then again robbing the cradle might be fun."

"Oh honey someone else beat you to that a long time ago." Dean said letting go one good guffaw.

"Good teacher?"

"What I don't know isn't worth learning." Dean turned to bounce a brow at her.

Lizzie gave a giggle and slapped his back, "I'm getting out of here before someone walks in."

"To late." Maggie Newton called from the door.

Lizzie quickly hopped off the bed, raised the back and the tractioned leg before leaving.

"Thanks." Maggie said to the nurse as she left.

"Thanks?" Dean asked.

"For leaving us alone." She explained then raised her hand, "Brought the cards."

"What you didn't reserve the whole day for me over a nightmare." Dean was astonished.

"Dean this is your regularly scheduled appointment." She answered pulling up a chair, "Gin rummy?"

"Sure."

There was a look in her eye that warned Dean this was not going to be a casual visit but her approach was so gentle and kind and her expression so accepting he couldn't help but smile. It was a strange feeling being comfortable, this comfortable with a stranger. Comfortable enough to know she was after something and not care.

John returned to the hospital the day before the brace was to be attached. He was wearing a new talisman Bobby found for him, and was confident it would keep him in check. 'It protects the wearer against all evil influences.' John heard Dean's idea about Lyssa from Jim Murphy and thought it was worth investigating. The first place to inspect was of course Beaver, Utah and he did indeed find a survivor from the coven. The witch laughed in John's face and with a huge satisfied grin on his said it wasn't them. Oh they new who did it. They were even given the privilege of helping. But he didn't have the talisman controlling the Lyssa.

"He said I'd never find her." John intoned his face drooping to his knees, "I beat the shit out of him and he still wouldn't talk."

"We're not going to stop looking." Dean vowed, "We'll fix this dad."

"Oh we sure as hell will and in the mean time I've got this. It should keep me from going crazy again." John pulled a silver amulet from under his shirt, "Very powerful. I'll be paying Bobby back for the rest of my life but at least I'm sane."

Paying Bobby back. Dean would have to do something about that. Thank God for Bobby. Dean could rewrite history but some things would never change. Owing Bobby for saving his neck would be one of them. As he was filled in on all John had been up to something Dean couldn't over look was his father's hands. The first thing Dean noticed when John entered the room was gauze bandages around both hands. John was in a positive mood so Dean didn't want to upset him with questions so he let it lie. But eventually he had to ask. Dean needed to know if there was anything he needed to know.

"I got some bad news from Jim Murphy and took it out on a wall." John answered while keeping his eyes averted, sudden and swift John was glaring at him, "What were you thinking talking to a shrink?"

"I was thinking that fighting Dr. Bradshaw on it might raise suspicions." Dean replied as respectfully as possible, "With the cops visiting trying to talk me into pressing charges I didn't want to raise any more eyebrows."

"Press charges?" John asked confused.

"They know. There were witnesses. The guy who called the cops saw you stomping on me." Dean broke the bad news, "The only mystery is why you passed out."

"We've got to get out of here as soon as possible," John snapped into all business hunter mode, "When will you be able to drive?"

"I don't know, we'll have to wait a while after the antistatic wares off but we'll have to be careful. Driving is illegal for six weeks after knee surgery."

"I'll pick you up in the truck. I'd rather not have you driving that soon." John mused, "I'll get us a room somewhere up the highway bring the Impala there and be all set up by the time you're mobile."

Dad seemed a little strained but he was damned restrained over the shrink business. Yes things were looking up. He picked up the phone to call Sam and let him know.

John booked a room in the cleanest most comfortable motel he could find thirty odd miles south on highway 82. The likelihood was they'd be there a while. He rented a suite with a sitting room so he could watch TV while Dean rested and made sure the kitchenette was well stocked. He check with the restaurant to make sure Dean could have meals delivered in the event that he had to leave for any length of time. He hadn't any plans but John wanted to make sure.

John was confident everything would be alright. Maybe locating who ever set the demon curse on him wouldn't be easy but if he could hold his temper while confronting Dean about the shrink without even yelling at him for being so reckless then he had everything under control. John stole a car to get back to Dean after parking the Impala and ditched it in an old abandoned lot a decent hike from the room he took near the hospital. Everything was set.

John went back to the first motel to collect their belongings to find police tape across the door. He paid not attention to it and barged right in to find a disaster. Blood splattered on the walls and pooled on the floor forming a black puddle with Dean's upper torso imprinted in it. Holes in the plaster told tale of how Dean received his concussion and broke his arm and broken furniture lay scattered all about. John had seen rooms like this. Saw them in crime scene photographs or inspected them looking for evidence of what kind of monster had murdered or mangled some poor innocent. He had to dash to the bathroom to loose his stomach in the toilet. John was careful to keep his head low when he washed his face. He didn't want to see the monster that did this.

John waited for Dean in his room. Just walking down the corridors of this hospital was difficult with the way the staff looked at him. He wasn't spending hours in the waiting room. But he would soon be away from it, from the town, from everything that happened and as long as he held on to his shield amulet it would never happen again. John placed his gift to Dean on the table beside the bed. It could be six months before Dean would be able to put full weight on his leg and longer before he would be at full strength. Knowing Dean he'd be tossing the cane away in three months. Until then he would have a sleek black cane with a carved ivory handle.

John sat down with a couple of newspapers while he waited. Maybe there was something close by he could take care of while Dean convalesced. There was no need for him to be idle because Dean was out of the game. When Dean was brought in the doctor reported the procedure was a success and that Dean would be unconscious for several more hours. Though Dr. Ricker didn't look at John like he was filth under her shoes she was as cold as ice. He could take the cold without complaint.

Upon Dean's return to the room John was filled with a powerful sense of relief. Mobility was a vital part of his life and having it compromised by traction had filled him with an unease that penetrated to his bones. There was always something coming, evil of one sort or another. If it couldn't be fought they had the option of falling back. The evil that was looming was the credit card company. A bill was submitted under one of two circumstances. When the patient was released or at the end of the month, whichever came first. It was how hospital accounting departments worked. Once that bill was sent it would be a matter of days before the fraud would be discovered and the more distance between them and the hospital the colder the trail.

Credit card fraud was never a high priority for any police or sheriff's department but card companies were known to have their own investigators. Dean needed to be away from this hospital and their rest and nurture approach to convulsing. It always took at least a week for a soldier to get over the whole I've been wounded cut me some slack attitude. Dean was never one for that nonsense. In point of fact he tended toward the other extreme which was a matter of pride with John, though it made Dean a little difficult to manage at times. But he'd never been hurt like this before, giving John pause for thought.

Dean gradually pulled himself from the peace and quiet of darkness to find his father sitting by his bed.

"How you doing, Ace?" John greeted him.

"Feeling fine, nice stuff they're feeding me." Dean grinned.

John's smile grew to full dimple as he chuckled, "I'll just bet. I think we'll wait for you to come in for a landing before we pack you off. You relax and enjoy the ride. I'll go get prescriptions and shit."

"Pocket the good stuff, okay." Dean grinned.

Dean was able to keep the smile on his face until his father left the room. If the stuff he was getting intravenously wasn't killing the pain he doubted there was anything in the hospitals medicine cabinets strong enough to handle it. At the moment it was a perpetual throb. When the 'good stuff' wares off Dean planned to have his dad knock him out. He closed his eyes and let himself drift. Dean woke to raised voices in the room and for a brief moment thought 'They're at it again.', but when did Sam start sounding like a girl? Sure he acted like one but didn't sound like it.

"Hey lower the volume." Dean barked as he struggled to open his eyes.

"You about ready to go, Ace?" John joined Dean at his bed side.

"Dad I'm not even dressed." Dean complained.

"We'll start by getting these tubes out of you." John started pulling the tape off Dean's arm, "I brought you a pair of sweets. We'll have to cut off one of the legs. I'll have to track down a pair of scissors."

"Stop that at once." Dr. Ricker charged the bed, "He can not be moved, Mr. Tucker you're son has a tube in his spine."

"Remove it." John ordered.

"I will not." Dr. Ricker would not be bullied, "Mr." She stopped and turned her attention to the patient, "Mack, you remember what it was like when I put the plate and the rod in your leg, don't you?"

"Oh yah." Dean breathed, "Trying to forget."

"Mack, I just put a dozen new holes in you're thigh and shin. There is the obvious risk of infection for which you are receiving antibiotics. We need time to wean you from the spinal to oral painkillers, to determine what kind and how much. All this needs a doctors supervision."

"How long?" Dean groaned.

The voices were quiet after getting the 'shield' but they were there, a low buzz that made him edgy but not angry, not homicidal. As Dean spoke with the doctor they grew louder and he could hear what the nattering voices were saying.

How long? What difference does it make? Listening to other people, giving them his loyalty. He knows how important it is to go. The risks to both of us if we stay. He's so damned irresponsible. Useless lazy damned irresponsible kid who doesn't give a damn about anyone but himself.

Ridicules. How ridicules to call Dean irresponsible. But the whispering continued, growing more persistent as Dean's conversation continued.

Why was he even listening to her? Disrespectful. John always looked after him, always knew what was best. Didn't he trust his father anymore?

On and on it went picking away at his fears growing loader and loader.

"Why are we even having this conversation?" John demanded as he tried to block out the voices and quiet his growing nerves, "We need to get out of here quickly, get that thing out of his back or I will."

"I will not and neither will you, Sir." the Doctor decreed with all the authority he profession gave her and a little more, "We are not anaesthesiologists we could damage his spine."

"You get someone in here who will or I will do it." John growled his warning.

Dean began to sweat. There was no way on earth he was going to let his father poke away at this back. The way Johns hand was trembling as it gripped the bed rail he would be a paraplegic by the time his dad was through.

"Doc, could you give my dad and me a few minutes." Dean asked, when he saw she was going to argue he gave her a warning look, "Doctor I need some time alone with my father, please."

She nodded and hurried out the door.

"What the hell is there to discuss?" John demanded.

"You could cripple me if you take out the tube yourself." Dean said as quietly and respectfully as he could, "I think we have to deal with these people here."

"I always knew you were a whining, selfish, little bastard" John snarled, "I didn't know you're a coward. Afraid of a little pain are you?"

Dean only meant convince them to do it. All that was required was to sign himself out and they would have no choice in the matter. All he asked of his father was patience. John's knuckles were white from the grip he had on the bed. It began to shake as he struggled with the growing rage.

"No Sir, I'll talk to her, we'll set it up okay?" Dean pleaded.

"You listen to them instead of you father?" He bellowed visibly shaking the bed, "You trust strangers over your own family, over you're father?"

"Sir, I'm just suggesting we manoeuvre them into doing what we want." Dean offered knowing better than to disagree with him.

John's hand flew to Dean's throat putting pressure shoving him into the mattress. The veins in John's bulging eyes stood as a testament to the rage with in. Dean grabbed the arm with his one usable hand as pressure at his throat slowly increased.

"Are you telling me what to do." John demanded at a roar, "You never did know you're place in this family. You're brother's the one with the guts and the brains."

"Sir. I'm suggesting we force them to do what we want." Dean answered quickly, "Dad you're hurting me."

"Since when do you do the thinking?" John continued to bellow and the pressure on Dean's neck increased, "Why should I give a damn what you want you worthless piece of shit."

"Dad please." Dean begged as he struggled for breath.

"You couldn't find you're ass without an instruction manual!" He screamed in Dean's face.

Dean heard a cry from a distance.

"Dad you're killing me." Dean managed to choke as his sight began to blur.

'Killing me' vibrated in his mind startling John. What did it mean, he asked and finely looked, truly looked, at his son. Dean's face was puffy his lips were tinted blue and the hand which had been twisting, nails digging into John's arm was going limp. "You're killing you're son you psychotic idiot." he screamed at himself and the voices began to recede. He let go of Dean like he was on fire and after a moments terrified hesitation John made sure Dean's throat wasn't crushed and he was still breathing. He sighed with relief when Dean's eye opened. Never was green so beautiful. John bent down and kissed Dean's temple and kept his lips by his son's ear.

"God I'm sorry, Ace." He whispered, " I thought I had it under control but I don't. We can't do this. It's too dangerous."

"We'll fix this, dad." Dean croaked.

"No where near you son." John's voice began to crack, "I can't risk it. Look after you're self son. The Impala is outside the Wayside motel just off highway 82 in Aspen just five miles south of the airport on the edge of town."

"Dad?" Dean considered arguing then realized what that would mean, "Okay, I'm so sorry dad."

As John straightened up Dean could see a security guard behind John and Doctors Ricker and Bradshaw at the foot of the bed. They did nothing as John kissed him one more time before heading for the door. He stopped forced a smile and dropped the keys to the Impala on the bed stand. Dean couldn't remember a more painful goodbye in his life. After being back only a matter of months he had completely ruined his fathers life. All he wanted to do was cry.

Dean knew when hospitals processed insurance claims and how long it would take until they would be calling the appropriate authorities. He waited until the doctor had the tube out of his spine and his meds regulated. The kidney was healing and his vision was clear enough to navigate a fair distance even if he wouldn't have passed a driving eye exam.

Saying good bye to Maggie Newton was hard. He began to look forward to her visits in spite of himself and would miss them. It was strange how easy he found it to talk to her and how good it was to be able to talk to some one. She did however give him something to think about before he left.

"Mack, how much do you think you hid from me?" She asked.

"Not a lot." Dean admitted.

"You're right. I know you've been carrying the lions share of responsibility in your family but no one seems to notice or care and you've been brainwashed into believing if you should ever dare to think of yourself or want something for yourself it would be the most selfish thing in the world. And I know a lot more. If you don't do something to help yourself you will be buried under other peoples problems and neglecting your own until it finely kills you."

"Now you're tying to scare me." Dean tried to laugh off the frighteningly accurate prediction.

"Yes and you know I'm right too. Here take this." She gave him a book titled 'The Pathology of Abuse', "It explains why some parents abuse children, how the different types of abusers will choose there victim and so forth. I think it would help you a lot if you understood how and why you've grown up the way you have."

Dean nodded agreeing to take the book, She didn't expect anything more than the polite thank you she received. Shame was a powerful aspect of the boys makeup.

"Mack you'd also be helping your father and possibly any future children you may have by reading that, but I think you need to talk to someone about that other problem of yours."

"What?" Dean asked alarmed, "What other problem?"

"Childhood sexual abuse can have long reaching consequences."

"My father never touched me." Dean growled.

"No not your father." Maggie knew, "But someone." She watched the blood colour his face as his eyes darted around the room in that tell tale fashion, "You think it's over and you can go on with your life but these things will go on haunting you. Crisis centers are anonymous, most are open twenty-four seven, and they're all over the country. Here."

"What's this." He asked

"The address and phone number of every crises center in the country can be found on this site." She answered holding his attention with an intense stare, "I scratched enough of the surface to know you have a lot more to deal with than 'your dad is a violent drunk' which is hard enough to deal with in it's self. If you want to know what happy really is then stop shoving this shit in to some secret place and waiting for it to go away cause it won't. It'll haunt you until you face it and deal."

Dean put the card in his wallet. He didn't know that he'd ever use it but he kept it. He had things to do and he didn't want to argue with her. Chances were good he'd loose. Dean needed to make a couple of covert visits to a number of supply rooms before hitting the road. The first aid kit didn't have the kind of meds he was prescribed. He had to stock up the first aid kit anyway. Dean could hide the brace under scrubs but though the hat hid most of the shaved part of his head any close examination of his face would reveal his silicone sheets. He'd just have to keep his head low and hope for the best. Just as Dean was about to leave his room the figure of Castiel appeared in front of him.

"I have information for you." He announced.

"Great Cass but I have to get out of here." Dean hurried him, "I have to get some supplies and nobody can see me while I do it."

"Is it important?"

"Very, I need the medicine to get better and the other supplies for when I'm hurt."

"Very well, take my arm and no one will see you." Castiel told him.

"You're kidding me." Dean exclaimed.

Castiel hesitated a moment before answering, "No."

"Fantastic." Dean laughed and took Castiel's arm.

Picking up a carry all commonly seen in the hospital Dean made the rounds of the supply cabinets. Some locks were easy to pick while others actually took ten seconds but in either case he came out with everything he wanted and a few extras for his trouble. He left the Hospital with the bag full. This was one of the rare times when he actually felt a little bad about ditching the place. Everyone had gone to such lengths to help him. On the other hand he wasn't going to stick around and be grabbed by the fraud squad just to be a nice guy.

Castiel said goodbye after warning him that the Zachariah was a ware that Dean maybe on to what the demon's were up to and had ordered Castiel to keep an eye on him.

"Do you think they're on to you?" Dean asked, and when Castiel only looked at him, "Do you think they know you're going behind their backs?"

"No." Castiel replied, "I have said and done nothing that would be considered irregular. If you need to speak to me again use the Enchanted spell from the Book of Angels and Demons. You will fall unconscious and I will be able to speak to you unnoticed."

"Good, done." Dean agreed, "Do you think you could transport me to my car."

Suddenly he was standing beside the Impala and Castiel was nowhere in sight. He called thanks and be careful to the sky, climbed into his baby and was on the road but where to go? He wasn't arrogant or stupid enough to think he could look after himself. After a long argument with himself he pushed Sam on speed dial. He started out slowly with hi and how are you before getting to the point which only put Sam on his guard.

"Sammy I'm in a corner, I need your help." Dean eased into the situation.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked immediately concerned.

"I'm in a little trouble." Dean hesitated, he hated admitting this at all much less having to burden Sam, but where else could he go? "I'm hurt Sam." Dean yanked the bandage off with an ouch.

"What, how bad?" Sam asked alarmed.

"I'm not getting around well." Dean answered. "I'm coming your way, k?"

"Where's dad, he's alright isn't he?" Sam demanded, alarmed, "Why isn't he looking after you?"

"He was fine the last time I saw him, a few days ago." Dear answered not wanting to go into details over the phone, "Look Sammy I need a layover and I'm coming you're way. Are we good."

"When you tell me what's going on." Sam snapped, annoyed by Dean ambiguous replies.

He could hear the rumble of the Impala engines. How hurt was Dean if dad left him and he was driving? There was something else going on. Sam had a paper on civil disobedience to finish and another on nurture verses nature due before exams. He had no time or patience for games. Dean could tell him what he wanted or let him get back to work.

"None of this need to know crap, Dean. " Sam continued, "What's the rest of it?"

"I'm telling you everything. Dad can't be around me right now and I need somewhere to stay while I get back on my feet. Now are we good?" Dean spelled it out as clearly as he could.

Either something very big was up and he was doing dad's need to know routine although a lot more politely if clumsily and poorly disguised. Sam wouldn't be kept in the dark, not with Jessica's life on the line and not when Sam knew he was at the center of the trouble. He would be armed with all necessary information if he had to beat it out of Dean. Then again, Dean could just be using this as an excuse to check up on him rather than being open and honest like a normal person. Damn it if Dean wanted to see him just say so. Now was a bad time but Sam would be happy to arrange something later.

"No we're not!" Sam barked fed up with Dean's little brother attitude toward him, "I have a lot on my plate right now Dean and no time for your stupid games. When you're ready to tell me what's going on, call me."

He hung up, Dean couldn't believe, Sam hung up on him. Expectations always result in disappointment. Dean could dwell latter. At the moment the pressing question was, where to go. Everybody was still alive, Pastor Jim, Caleb, Bobby. Well there was the obvious sitting right in font of his face. Why did he even call Sam? 'The kid isn't set up for something like this anyway. I shouldn't be so angry.' Dean pointed the Impala in the direction of South Dakota and Singer Salvage. It was pretty direct, interstate 76 all the way to highway 83 then east on 44 to Sioux Falls, a mere eight hundred miles, a thirteen hour drive. It was better than seventeen hours and over a thousand miles to Palo Alto. Under normal circumstances Sioux Falls would be an easy ride but what did Dean know about normal these days. Or any day. Today not normal was having only half the necessary body parts for driving, in proper working order and sustaining himself with a minimal amount of Vicodin to make the pain tolerable while not interfering with his reflexes. He was hurt and hauling ass before the police came after him. After serious consideration Dean decided these circumstances weren't that unusual after all. Pretty normal really, for Dean.

Two hundred miles and fifty miles later Dean was sweating excessively, the pain was climbing up to a point where he might have to risk higher doses of Vicodin and his migraine category head ache was making it almost impossible to concentrate. Dean didn't know what possessed him but he looked out the window for a dove and almost lost control of the Impala when he found one soaring ahead of him. He was completely creeped out but a new wave of strength washed over him from regions unknown. It took him a minute but he recognized it as hope. Now he was really creeped out.

"You did that?" Dean asked the dove, "You're totally freaking me out, you know that? What's the game here?"

Dean tried to ignore the dove as he drove on but it wouldn't leave him. Eventually exhaustion won out over his improved attitude and his eyes fought to close. The image of a dove and highway guard railing flashed in Deans mind startling him from his doze and his head snapped up. He was drifting off the road. Dean spun the steering wheel and got back onto the black top not a moment to soon. Shaken but not buried under a mile of guardrail Dean scanned the sky and easily found the dove.

"Is that you Gabriel, fucking with me?" Dean called to the dove, "Thanks for the help but stop screwing with my head."

Dean watched for the next off ramp. More coffee, a couple of hours sleep? He was afraid to stop on the side of the road. Sleeping in the car could have adverse effects on certain body parts. He was on interstate 76 half way between Denver and North Platte, still over three hundred miles to Sioux Falls . He'd never make it. Dean looked up at the dove over head.

"Hey Gabe, come down here and lay hands on me." he shouted at the dove.

Castiel couldn't heal Bobby after being cut off from heaven, but the Archangel seem to be able to do anything. If it was Gabriel up there. Just considering the other possibilities gave Dean the creeps again. Half way to North Platte, if he made it that far he could get a room for the night and start fresh in the morning. Two miles to the next exit Dean read.

"Wake up bitch! The road house." Dean admonished himself.

Sutherland Nebraska was one exit before North Platte. Why go hunting for a motel when he could drop in on Ellen. Ellen and Jo, are alive, Ash is alive, everybody's alive. It was an uplifting thought. The only one at risk was the nut behind the wheel of the Impala.

Dean called up to the Dove, "Hey Gabriel, you dick, stop jerking my chain and send Cass to help or would that screw up your private witness protection?"

As if in answer to Dean's demands Castiel appeared in the car beside him sending a chill up his spine.

"Dude, are you trying to give me a heart attack." Dean asked as he brought his breathing under control.

"Are you always so easily startled?" Castiel asked.

"Only when I'm half dead actually. Gabriel send you?" Dean asked a little unnerved.

"Gabriel has not been in contact with any of us in several thousand years." Castiel replied.

"Then why are you here?" Dean asked a little more unnerved.

"You're request for aid was forwarded to me." Cass answered.

"By who?" Dean asked growing concerned, 'Who was screwing with his head'.

"I did not ask." Castiel answered, "I was given a command. In light of our situation it seems fortuitous."

"Fortuitous? Not likely?" Dean griped, "Somebody trying to help me up there has nothing good in mind."

"Then I should leave." Castiel suggested.

"No. No, we'll take advantage of this. I have to stay awake and alert for the next hundred and fifty miles so talk to me."

"What do you wish me to say?" Castiel asked confused by the strange humans, strange request and even stranger reasoning.

"Tell me everything going on in heaven, especially the suspicious stuff." Dean answered, other Cass was better at this. "There's a shop up ahead, coffee will help. You can grab a couple and we'll get back on the interstate."

While Castiel went in to the diner to buy coffee Dean closed his eyes for just a minute hoping it would help his head ache. He was both startled and embarrassed when Castiel woke him with a shake. The coffee was sitting on the dashboard and Castiel was kneeling beside the open drivers side door.

"Sorry I didn't mean to doze off." Dean immediately apologized.

"Dean if I were to heal you I would have to explain it to Zachariah. I can think of no explanation that would satisfy him." Castiel said with a frown.

"Don't risk it dude, I'll heal just fine the normal way." Dean smiled back.

"I can ease your discomfort at least for a time." Castiel offered.

When Dean just stared in surprise Castiel placed a hand on Dean's left leg. Slowly warmth spread out from the hand and threw the leg banishing all pain and stiffness. Until Castiel touched it the limb was a useless dangling lump of agony. Dean could only move the leg a little but it was more than he could before. Castiel did the same to Dean's arm and his head. In short order Dean was relatively pain free. Without the pain the drive wouldn't take more than two hours. Castiel didn't have a great deal to report. Apparently with years to go before Azazel even tries to open the devil's gate not a lot of preparation was needed in heaven.

What did one talk about with an Angel? Dean remembered that there were many things in the Bible that people got wrong, like the antichrist was not the son of Lucifer. Dean already had the inside track on revelations and the apocalypse so he went in the other direction and asked if there really was an Adam and Eve, and if so why were they tossed out of the garden. By the time they were coming up on the Sutherland Nebraska exit Castiel shattered a few myths corrected a few misconceptions and surprised Dean by confirming a few things.

"You know what sucks." Dean said as they approached the road house, "How the innocent get caught in the middle. Innocent people dieing horribly, Cass, that's just wrong."

"The innocent are received in paradise." Castiel replied, "Is it not better to be in paradise than suffering on earth?"

"I've been to heaven, Cass." Dean answered, "It wasn't paradise."

"I have never hear a complaint about heaven before." Cass said a hint of emotion in his voice.

"How many of the people you talk to in heaven have the option of going back home?" Dean asked after parking the Impala.

"I do not talk to people." Castiel answered.

"Well that explains the lack of complaints." Dean answered with a grin.

.

Dean left the hospital just before morning shift change as it was the best time to raid hospital supply cupboards. He was on the road by six thirty but didn't arrive at the roadhouse until three in the afternoon. For Dean taking nine hours to drive four hundred miles was cause for shame but at that moment he wasn't fully cognisant of the fact.

"I must go now, I should warn you." Castiel began.

"Let me guess as soon as you disappear all the pain comes back? Let me get out of the car. I have to get my stuff." Dean stalled Castiel intil he gathered his duffle.

Dean reached over the back seat grabbed a few handfuls of meds or whatever his hand touched, and stuffed them into his duffel. With his broken arm still strapped to his chest Dean draped the bag over his good shoulder and tried to walk. With the bag banging in to the cane it was awkward going.

"Wait till I get to the door before disappearing, okay?" Dean asked.

"Agreed. I wish you well Dean Winchester and God's speed." Castiel nodded solemnly.

"Thanks, take care pal." Dean answered and clumsily hobbled over to the door.

He knew the second Castiel was gone. All the pain hit him like a brick wall crashing down and laying him waste. He couldn't see straight, he couldn't think, he could hardly breath, he trembled just staying upright and he thought he was going to throw up. 'Oh no you don't you wuss!' Dean gave himself a mental slap in the face and forced his way through the door.

Lunch time and Dean still hadn't called him back. Sam was beginning to think there never was anything going on. Dean was making an excuse to call or come by. He wished Dean had just said that. "Hey Sam I'm just worried about you and want to see you." Sam would have made time for him exams or not but no Dean couldn't let him in on his feelings. Sam blamed John for that.

Maybe he'd call tomorrow, make the gesture. It would satisfy Dean's macho pride and they'd both be comforted by a visit. Maybe he'd introduce Dean to Jessica. He'd be able to find an excuse to see her that would satisfy all concerned.

This chapter reproofed and reposted. No major changes but reads a little better I hope.