Disclaimer: The Winchester boys and Bobby – so not mine! Wish they were though.
Beta: bia1007 and PsiChic (these girls rock!)

Chapter 13

Sam's eyes opened to narrow slits, almost closing again as they were burdened by drowsiness and his desire to succumb into an endless slumber once more. Then again, as his hazy mind cleared, memories registered so violently he was jolting up to a sitting position. Seeing Kyle squatting in front of him, face etched with worry and sorrow made Sam's heart beat so frantically he was practically gasping for air.

"Sam…" The sadness filling Kyle's voice made Sam's breath hitch.

"Dean!" Sam ignored the white hot pain searing his spine up to his head and staggered to his feet. A brutal dash of vertigo caused Sam to stumble. He almost made a face plant to the floor if it hadn't been for Kyle's steady grasp on his shoulders.

"Easy there Sam," Still, Kyle's voice was too mournful and sad.

Clutching his head, stifling the pounding at the back of his skull, Sam steadied himself. He felt like covering his ears and shielding his visions from words or sights that might break his heart. But he had to know. He needed to know if they made it. So he turned.

The sight awaiting him made his heart shatter. He felt every joint in his body giving in and his knees buckled under him.

There was Dean, on the floor, still, unmoving. And there was Bobby, sitting next to Dean, cradling his brother's head in his lap – the old man's eyes brimmed with unshed tears. Then, there was Jack, looking at him with a deeply sad look that said 'I'm sorry'. Finally there was Matt. Oh God! The look on that kid's face explained everything. Everything that Sam didn't want to know.

Dean was dead. He couldn't save him. The ritual didn't work. Sam had lost his big brother, again.

He failed.

"Dean…" He moaned, pulling his knees to his body and burying his face into them. Sam started rocking, slow at first and faster as time passed. "Dean…" Both his mind and his lips chanted Dean's name, the name of the only person he ever truly believed in.

Sam was breaking inside.

After Dean died and went to hell, Sam made sure his heart hardened and was cold as stone – not opening to anyone again. His heart was so cold it would freeze anyone who tried to get in. Sam didn't want to ever feel love again, to be warmed with passion – not after Dean was gone.

But Sam was wrong, the coldest always were the most fragile. Heat shaped the glass, coldness would break it into pieces. Now Sam's heart was breaking into a thousand pieces and Sam knew he never could gather them anymore.

"Dean…" Sam sobbed into his hands.

"Sam."

"Dean…"

"Sam."

"Dean?" Sam must be hearing things. He thought he heard Dean calling to him. He looked up. His big brother was still there, unmoving on the floor.

"Sam…"

"Dean, I'm sorry," Sam cried sadly. "I failed you."

"Dean!!!" He wailed, touching everyone's heart.

"Sammy!!"

…………………………

"Sammy!!"

His eyes snapped open and Sam gasped desperately for air.

"Hey! Hey! Cool it."

The loved and familiar voice greeted him and the ever-comforting hand lay on his chest, grounding him. Sam breathed in deeply and looked around, finding soft green eyes looking down on him with pure concern.

"Dean?" Sam sat up, wondering what had happened. Instead of rocking back and forth in the Solomon circle, Sam was sitting on the floor next to the couch where Dean was lying. Dean on the other hand was very much alive, but with lines of worry and fear on his face.

"No…I'm Martha Stewart." Dean replied sarcastically. The fear on his face was replaced with relief at the blink of an eye. "Of course it's me, idiot," he snorted.

Sam's eyes scanned Dean's face wildly, looking confused and unbelieving. "You're alive?!"

"Duh?" Dean rolled his eyes and pretended to be annoyed, but in the end he smiled anyway.

"God! Dean!!" Unexpectedly, Sam yelped and threw himself towards Dean, pulling his brother into a huge bear hug. He held on so tight to his brother as if he never again wanted to let go.

"Uh…Sam," Dean panted. "N-need…air." He hissed but didn't take any effort to release himself from the hug.

"Oh…Sorry!" Sam did let go, but not entirely. He cupped Dean's face in his hands and studied his brother closely. "Oh God, Dean." He was thankful beyond words. A smile was all he could manage to show his gratitude.

Dean frowned, if Sam ever tried kissing him, he was so going to kick his butt.

"Yeah! Yeah! It's really me." Dean swatted Sam's hands away. Now it was getting too much. "Cut it off Sammy, you're freaking me out," he growled.

Sam seemed to be unaffected by Dean's words as he kept grinning from one ear to the other, like a little child who had just found the world's biggest treasure.

Dean shook his head in defeat, reached out a hand and gently rested it on top of Sam's head. Locking eyes, they looked at each other for a brisk moment, sharing a silent conversation and shied away almost at the same time.

The oldest Winchester cleared his throat, snickered and tousled Sam's hair without mercy while his little brother in fruitless attempts tried to bat away his invading hands.

"Stop it dude!" Sam caught his wrist and curled his fingers around it – holding it firm. To Dean the gesture felt so right – something genuine and sorely missed. "I'm not a baby anymore."

"Ouch! Sam, that hurts!" Dean winced. "Cos' the last time I remembered…you are my baby brother." He winked and smiled seeing the blush on Sam's cheeks.

"Now would you please stop grinning like an idiot?" Dean flicked his finger to Sam's forehead, hitting him right between the brows with a thud.

"You're sick Dean!" Sam rebuked, rubbing the sore spot on his forehead with the back of his hand. The hit seemed to cause his brain to rock in his skull, making him sway a little.

"I'm sick? It's you who fainted like a girl."

Sam's fist reflexively found its way to Dean's shoulder.

Dean laughed.

Sam couldn't hide a smile as he heard Dean's laughter. It had been so long since Sam last heard Dean really laugh – the last time even before the Pukwudgies thing, maybe since he came back from hell. The situation between them had been so tense lately that laughter never found its way to loosen things.

"You even hit like a girl."

Sam rolled his eyes and muttered the word that had been waiting to come out for such a long time.

"Jerk!"

"Bitch!"

That was enough to tell both boys they were doing okay – at least for now.

"Now, first thing first…" Suddenly Dean turned dead serious. His face tensed. That tone in his big brother's voice had Sam listening as if they were on a hunt.

"What's for dinner?" Dean innocently asked as his eyes wandered around, perhaps looking for the kitchen. "I'm so friggin' starving I could eat a cow!"

"Dude?!" Sam almost jumped. His eyes were wide in amazement. He chuckled, almost disbelieving. But Dean would always be Dean. Come to think of it, he was starving too.

"You idjit! You'd just escaped from death and food is what you have in mind?" Bobby appeared out of nowhere and towered above them, smacking the top of Dean's head with his cap. A gesture both Winchesters recognized as one of endless affection of their old friend.

"What? I didn't eat anything since the last... God knows how many days…is it wrong to ask?" Dean growled, rubbed his sore head and tried to snatch the cap away – thinking of revenge. They played tug war for a moment or two before Dean finally gave up.

"You boys scared the crap out of me!" Bobby scratched his head before putting on his cap again. "I swear to God if you do that again, I'll kill you myself." His heart wouldn't be able to take it again. Earlier when Dean and Sam collapsed after the ritual Bobby thought he was going to lose them both. Fortunately he didn't have to go into another round of Tequila diet – like he'd been indulging during Dean's absence – anytime soon; the last round had almost corroded him from the inside.

"Sorry Bobby…"

Bobby smiled. Sam was always the thoughtful one.

"You're getting old, old man."

And Dean was the smartass - the one he was accustomed to since forever.

Bobby rewarded the wiseass remark with another smack at the back of Dean's head. No more compassion for the sick. After all Dean were miles away from being sick. Another day of resting, eating and bantering with his little brother, he would be up and kicking some monsters' ass again. These boys, they had remarkable powers of healing.

"And you are the one making me old…ya' idjit!"

"I really need my head you know?" Dean pouted.

Well, well! How often would you see Dean Winchester pouts? When you saw one, better start running because you would never be able to resist it. It was as deadly as Sam's puppy-dog eyes. If Bobby didn't know better, he would have patted Dean's head and soothed him with comforting words.

"Aw! Stop being a crybaby!" Bobby growled instead. "You're breaking my heart."

"So Bobby…Is everything over?" Sam asked curiously. Dean looked healthier all right, but he was not going to take any chances. The last hours of watching his big brother struggle for survival had been the worst time of his life. It had felt a lot like watching Dean getting mauled by the hellhounds.

Bobby ran his eyes over Dean and smiled reassuringly. "Yeah! Seems like it…Dean vomited the poison and I think there's none left to invoke anymore danger." What was left of the sickness was a mild fever that they shouldn't worry too much about. A mild fever wouldn't stop Dean Winchester.

"Three days of adequate rest, food, and staying low should have him kicking again."

Sam nodded in agreement but Dean was not in favor of laying low.

"Three days? I'll die doing nothing for three days!"

"Well…you can try killing yourself as many time as you want," said Bobby, his eyes shot a menacing glare towards the oldest Winchester. "The thing is you're not going to make it against the five of us." He crossed his arms and stared at Dean between sharp piercing slits.

That stare caused Dean to back down. The sound in Bobby's voice was threatening enough even without the stare.

Sam laughed. So they were back to square one – back to the mild fever Dean was running on before the hunt. He was thankful he had Bobby and the Callahans for assistance now because Dean could be a handful when he was running a fever. But after what they went through for the previous days, Sam wouldn't think twice to tie Dean to the bed if he needed to. However, for now he was thankful Bobby was there to take charge for a change.

Watching Dean and Bobby argue about trivial matters warmed Sam's heart. He had Dean back and Bobby was there to offer assistance. There was nothing more he needed to call home. But then, thinking of home raised the question he'd been keeping inside.

"Bobby...have we ever met the Callahans before?"

Bobby looked sadly at Sam and Dean and sighed. "Your old man never told ya' huh?"

The Winchester boys exchanged curious glances. What else Dad had kept from them a secret?

"Dean…even you don't remember?"

"What?" Dean tried checking his memory deposit box, but he couldn't quite make it all out.

Bobby sighed for the umpteenth time. This John Winchester! If he was alive, Bobby would have knocked him out for good for trying to keep his sons away from people they could call family. Or maybe it was the best thing to do, seeing that Jack himself had never tried reaching the boys that he used to call sons. Perhaps Bobby could take a swing at Jack right now.

Darn stubborn assholes! They just didn't know how stupid they had been.

…………………………….

Matt looked up through his bangs when Kyle hissed again.

"You know what…when you were asked to cut your arm to bleed, it meant a mere scratch," Matt started. "It didn't mean cutting a vein and have yourself bleeding to death!" He dabbed the second washcloth on Kyle's cut when the first one was already smeared with blood.

"Aww man! You're such a friggin' drama queen!" Kyle frowned. A cut that refused to stop bleeding and he had Matt freaking out, thinking he might have cut a vein. "Just stitch it up already."

"Oww!" Kyled yelped when Matt pressed on his wound a little too hard.

Matt smirked. "Now who's the drama queen?"

Kyle shot Matt his deadliest glare; his little brother could be a menace sometimes. When Matt reached for the stitching kit however, Kyle frowned. He hated being patched up as much as he hated beer.

It was not he never tried drinking some. Even Matt drank beer and to think his little brother was tougher than him made him crazy. But a single drop was enough to have his stomach doing violent flips. The last time he tried, he ended being in bed for two days – not eating and not drinking because his tummy refused to keep it down. It was like some kind of allergy or something. So when Matt started working on the stitching work, he washed down a bottle of Gatorade instead to keep his head clear of the stitching work.

Matt watched as Kyle emptied the bottle of Gatorade and shook his head. "You know…I'd never understand your allergy to beer." He pulled the thread, finished one stitch and worked on three more. "And to think you love Gatorade makes it even harder."

"You don't have to." Kyle winced at the piercing pain on his arm as Matt pulled the thread, abusing his already sensitive breached skin. At least Matt was gentle and his stitch would barely leave a scar. Compared to their Dad, Matt was a much much better nurse.

Glancing up to get a quick look at Kyle, Matt saw Kyle's face furrowed with pain lines. "Sorry dude…for dragging you into this."

Kyle was a typical big brother, bossy, hardheaded and stoic. But he despised getting himself patched up. Every time Matt stitched his brother up he could feel him tense and most times it made the work harder. The irony was that it always was Kyle who received the most patching up and Matt was the one doing it for him.

"Are we going to start that pansy talk again?" Kyle growled, unhappy to be dragged into sissy talk when he was already having the worst time of the day.

Matt ignored the sarcasm and continued "You really didn't have to do that in the first place."

"Hey…it's done! No point of turning back now." Kyle reminded, in case Matt had forgotten how he'd acquired the cut to begin with.

"Yeah…but still…" Matt tied a knot – putting an end to his brother's torment and completed his work by putting gauze over the stitch work. "You didn't have to."

Kyle rolled his eyes. "And let you have all the fun?" He studied the patching work and nodded with satisfaction. "No way lil' bro!"

"Thanks dude!" Matt smiled.

That was Kyle, his big brother. Heart to heart talk gave him the creeps and he would do anything to avoid being stuck in it. It was not because he hated it, but he couldn't stand the emotion that might stir in him. Kyle might be hardheaded but he was a real softie inside.

"You better stop being sissy or I'll knock you out for good."

Threat. It was Kyle's defense mechanism against little brother's emo-attack.

"Try me dude!" Matt punched Kyle's shoulder and grinned when the older Callahan shot him a glare. "You know I can take you out, always…" Kyle was really a better fighter but when he fought Matt, he would always lose. And Matt was aware of that. He was his brother's weakness.

Kyle groaned irritably. He could never prevail over his little brother. Not that he couldn't, it was just he never allowed that to happen. Only sometimes when his brother's life was at stake and him winning was the only thing which could save Matt he would fight his brother till he dropped.

"Are you boys done?" Jack came in from the back door and headed for the kitchen table, where his boys were sitting.

"Yes sir!" The response came out reflexively. There was worry in his sons' voices though.

Jack looked down to Kyle's arm and then to the perfectly organized suturing kit on the table. Matt had the skill of doing patching jobs without making any mess – something Kyle and him would never be able to do. If Matt was the one who needed patching, both him and his eldest would make a mess out of everything and Matt would be the one cleaning things up when he felt better.

Matt was so much like Jenny - the peacekeeper of the house. Kyle? That kid could be stubborn. Jack often wondered where he got his traits from. Kyle was headstrong but Jack could always count on him in any situation. Rationality always won out over his heart.

His sons had different natures but when they were together they made a perfect match - much like the Winchester boys, much like him and were two different men but shared one soul. Jack was glad they still had each other - Matt and Kyle, Sam and Dean. He on the other hand had lost the other part of his soul and he was sick at heart he couldn't save him. The day he found out that John was dead, he had almost lost himself but his sons kept him going.

"Dad…" Matt called hesitantly.

The way Kyle was rolling his eyes told Jack Matt was going to start his much favored heart to heart talk in a matter of a second.

"Good job sons." Jack stopped it before it could happen. He couldn't stand that kind of talk. It gave him the creeps. And he wondered where Kyle got his attitude. "Now can you start working on the dinner? I'm starving!"

"I'll get right into it!"

Kyle stood and went to the fridge – thankful that Matt didn't have the chance to start another round of girly talk. Nice job dad! He knew there was still some roast left, may be they could have that tonight with mashed potato. Everyone was starving he bet and to think they had a lot of guests tonight, he would have to cook bigger portions. They would be having a big dinner – a celebration for a job well done.

Matt pouted. He knew the trick so well.

Jack sniggered as he patted Matt's shoulder. "I'm proud of you boy." He mumbled, almost whispering. When Matt beamed, Jack flashed him a bright smile.

"Need any help?"

The voice at their kitchen door had the Callahans turning their heads almost at the same time. Bobby was standing by the doorway, grinning.

"Well, we could use some of your infamous brown gravy for a start." Jack grinned back. Bobby had always been a good cook. If he didn't turn into hunting, Jack would have encouraged him to start a cuisine business.

Bobby rolled up his sleeves and joined Kyle in the kitchen. He hadn't had the chance to get to know the Callahan boys. So maybe this was the perfect time to start learning about them. The last time he saw them, Kyle was only four and Matt was merely a toddler. He bet they didn't even remember him.

Looking up at the door, Jack asked "Bobby, the boys…" and stopped halfway, hoping Bobby got what he meant.

"They were up," Bobby answered knowingly. "And they're okay."

Jack sighed with relief. He was still contemplating though. The urge to go out and meet the kids were so tempting but he the fear and worries whether the boys were able to accept him was holding him back.

Kyle looked at his Dad and saw the doubt on his father's face. He might not know what really happened but he knew for sure the Winchester boys meant a lot to Jack. He had a feeling they meant a lot to him to, but he was unsure how it could possibly be.

"You know Dad I think we've got it covered here in the kitchen." Kyle said without turning his head to look at his old man.

Jack stared at Kyle's back for a while and snorted. He looked down to Matt who watched him with confusion. Matt might be smart but Kyle was smarter in his unique way. He tugged at the black leather strips around his younger one's wrist playfully, thought about the matching strips on Kyle's wrists and made his decision. He remembered seeing the same strips on the Winchesters and to see how the boys valued the black leather strips made him know for sure.

Shaking his head, Jack smiled, ruffled Matt's hair and went out to meet John's boys – keeping in mind to get back to his own boys later. They had the right to know the truth as well. Maybe not everything but they needed to know what John Winchester really meant to him and he would let Kyle and Matt decide what the Winchester boys would mean to them.

'Help me get our boys back together John.' Jack silently prayed as he stepped into the living room, where Dean and Sam were waiting for him.

TBC

a/n: Hope you'd like this chapter. Since everything went back to normal, I thought I better slow down. The next chapter is going to be the last one (I hope). Thank you for staying with me until now. Now, if you liked this chap, let me know by leaving a review. Love ya!