Thank you Jenjoremy for beta'ing, Gredelina1 for helping outline, and you all for reading, reviewing and supporting the story. You're all awesome.

Chapter Thirteen

Sam hit speed-dial as he walked out of the hospital and waited for the call to connect. He smiled as his father's formal voice spoke, "Doctor James Hydeker."

"Hey, Dad, it's me."

"Sam," his tone immediately softened and became more amiable. "How are you?"

"I'm good," Sam said. "I just got out of my check-up at the hospital. According to the doctor, the wounds are looking good, the redness should fade soon and there's no real scar tissue visible." Sam was pleased about that. He wasn't vain, but he thought it would be easier to present the right image in court if he didn't look like he'd had his neck chomped on.

"That is wonderful news." Though his words were ebullient, James' voice wasn't. He sounded tired and sad.

"Are you okay, Dad?" Sam asked.

"Me? Of course."

Sam came to a stop beside one of the benches that lined the walkway and leaned against it. "You sure? You sound like you're having a hard time. Are you ill?"

"No," James said too quickly for it to be believable. There was a muffled voice in the background and when James came back he sounded professional again. "I need to go, Son. I will speak to you soon."

"Oh. Okay. Call me when you can."

"I will. Goodbye."

Sam was accustomed to abrupt farewells from his dad. It was the nature of having a doctor for a father. He tucked the phone back in his pocket and carried on along toward the car park.

As he passed one of the benches, he saw a man sitting on it with a sleeping bag laying at his feet with a few coins and a couple of small bills on it.

"Hey, kid, you got any change?" he asked.

Sam came to a stop and pulled out his wallet. He took the two twenties he had in there and handed them to the man who took them with a surprised but grateful smile.

"Thanks, kid. You have a good day."

It was on the tip of Sam's tongue to return the sentiment but he caught himself in time. What kind of day could a man have when his hard times were obviously so bad? Sam never took the life he had for granted, he was aware of how lucky he was to just be alive, but had the man not hailed him, Sam might not have even noticed him. Something as simple as a few bucks that wouldn't have bought him and Jessica a meal in a halfway decent restaurant made a real difference to that man, and he might not have stopped.

"Thank you," he said and waved a hand in farewell as he walked to his car.

As he unlocked the door to his Ford, he pondered what he had seen and what he could do about it. Perhaps he could get Jessica involved. She might have an idea of how they could help the homeless man and people like him. It seemed to him that he and his friends had so much and they gave so little back. Maybe there was a way to help the homeless without just throwing their parents' money at them. Maybe there was something they could do. It seemed to him that Dean and people like him—hunters—were out there risking everything to save other people, and Sam was just living his insular, privileged life as a student. It wasn't right.

The streets were quieter than usual, as the summer break had started and most people had left the dorms to go home. Only people like Sam and Jess that had off-campus homes would be around now. When Sam pulled to a stop outside his building he saw Bea and Mark, his pre-med neighbors, were loading their car with bags.

"Sam, how are you doing?" Bea asked as Sam climbed out of the car.

"All good," Sam said. "You?"

"Great," Bea said. "We're heading to Mark's parents' place for a couple weeks. What about you? Are you and Jess heading home anytime soon?"

"Not sure yet," Sam replied, though the idea of spending some time with his father at the lake sounded good. "We haven't really spoken about it."

"Well, get to it," Mark said affably.

"I will. You have a good break," Sam said.

They exchanged farewells and he continued on inside and up the stairs to his apartment. He unlocked the door and set his keys down in the dish before going into the lounge. Jessica was stretched out on the couch. There was a book open on her chest, and she was sleeping.

Sam slipped past her and went to the kitchen where his laptop was set up on the table. He booted it up and grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge before sitting down and opening a search engine. He typed in the query, 'how to help the homeless' and waited for the results to load. The first were all pleas for donations from homeless charities. Sam would do that, and he would badger his friends into doing the same, but he wanted something more, something he himself could do. As he scrolled down the page, he saw a result from a charity that had a list of ideas for other donations—time and essential living items among them. Sam seized on it and began making a list of things he could buy.

Scrolling down a little further he saw there was a list of homeless shelters and drop-in centers in the state. He was surprised to find there was a couple in Palo Alto that'd never heard of. The drop-in center was looking for volunteers for medical and legal matters.

He heard movement in the lounge and Jessica came into the room, her voice sleepy as she said, "Hey, baby, what are you doing?"

"Just looking up some stuff," Sam said.

Jessica peered over his shoulder and looked at the screen. "Homeless shelters?" Was it Sam's imagination or did she sound disappointed?

"Yeah," he said, turning in his chair to face her.

"Any reason?" she asked.

Sam told her about the man he had seen at the hospital and his desire to help. She listened carefully and then said, "Sure, we can do something about that. I'm pretty sure the college has a student committee that works with the homeless, too. We can see about joining that when the new semester starts."

"Yeah, but I want to do something now,"Sam said, impassioned.

"Okay," she said, obviously a little confused. "I'll help, but why does this suddenly matter so much to you?"

Sam looked back at the laptop screen as he answered. "Because there are people out there risking everything to help other people, and I'm not doing anything like it." He knew she would understand who he was speaking about at once, but she didn't comment on it for which he was grateful. He wasn't ready to talk about Dean.

She put her hand on his shoulder, and when she spoke her voice was soft. "We can do that, Sam. I'll help you."

"There's something else I want to do, too," he said. "I want us to go see Dad for a few days. I spoke to him earlier and he seems a little... off."

Jessica wrapped her arms around him and rested her chin on his shoulder. "You want us to go spend a few days by the lake, where we can relax and just be together after weeks of worry and drama? Damn, Sam, you sure do ask a lot from me."

Sam laughed. "That's a yes then?"

"That's a definite yes. Let's get packed."

"Good," Sam said. "But there's a couple things I want to do first."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," Sam picked up his list of essentials to deliver. "I want to shop."

They made the journey to Oregon last a couple days, driving along the coastal roads and stopping for the night in a small beachside motel. Sam was excited to be going home for a while, and feeling peaceful in himself following their trip back to the hospital to deliver a backpack of essentials to the man Sam had given money to. It transpired that his name was Rick and he had fallen on hard times following an accident that had wiped out his insurance, his savings, and eventually his home. He was grateful for the bag though, and seemingly more grateful for the hour Sam and Jessica spent talking to him in a diner where they bought him dinner. They said their goodbyes with promises to return and talk again.

When they pulled up in front of James' sprawling lake house, Sam got out and took a deep breath of the fresh open air. He fetched their bags from the trunk and carried them to the house. James' car wasn't there, and Sam guessed from the hour that he was at the hospital still. Sam unlocked the door with the key he kept on his fob and gestured Jessica in ahead of him. The house had a neglected air, as if James wasn't spending much time there. Sam's worry for his father grew. He was known to work too hard sometimes, and with Sam in college, there was no one to make sure he was taking care of himself.

As far as Sam knew, James hadn't ever dated since Sam's mother's death. He always said she was the only woman for him. Sam appreciated that the love they shared was great, but sometimes he wished his father would relax and let someone else love and take care of him.

Sam carried up their bags to the room they would share for their visit and threw open the windows to let in some fresh air. When he got downstairs, he saw Jessica had done the same with the kitchen and living room windows.

Sam opened the fridge and saw there was hardly any food in there, though there was a six-pack of beers that James wouldn't drink. They were the brand Sam and Jessica favored. The thought that James had bought those for them even though they'd made no plans to come made a lump form in Sam's throat. He needed to give his father more time.

Jessica peered over his shoulder and said, "I guess it's time for a trip to the store."

"We'll do it tomorrow," Sam said. "I'll get us takeout tonight. Right now I want beer and fresh air." He grabbed two beers from the pack and handed one to Jessica. They went through the living room into the vast backyard that led directly onto the lake by way of a jetty. There was a table and chairs set up and Sam and Jessica sat down. Jessica fiddled with her phone and set some music to playing, and Sam leaned his head back so the sun fell on his face.

"This is good," Jessica said appreciatively.

"Yeah," Sam replied lazily. He always forgot how much he loved being at the lake until he came back to it.

"What else shall we do while we're here?"

Sam lowered his head and grinned. "I'm sure we'll find something to entertain us. It's a big bed we've got upstairs after all."

She kicked his shin. "Mind out of the gutter, Hydeker. I was thinking more wholesome activities."

Sam rubbed his shin and said, "Well, Dad was saying they'd finished building that zip-line park in Rocky Point. There's always the canoes and fishing."

"Zip lines I'm up for, but you're nuts if you think you're getting me on the lake again after last time."

"It wasn't so bad," Sam said.

"You capsized us! And the water was damn cold."

"I didn't mean to," Sam said innocently.

"Sure, so you say. I'm still not convinced."

Sam leaned back in his chair and took a draw on his beer. "Okay. No water sports. We'll find something to do though, I'm sure." He grimaced. "We should probably start cramming for the LSAT, too."

"You're right," Jessica said. "We'll give ourselves a couple days and then get to work, okay?"

"Sounds good to me," Sam said. There was the sound of tires on gravel then and Sam straightened in his chair. "Dad's home."

He stood and made his way back into the house just as James came in through the front door. "Sam!" he said, his pleasure obvious despite his weariness. "I didn't know you were coming. Why didn't you say?"

"We thought we'd surprise you," Sam said, stepping forward and receiving his father's embrace.

"Jessica is here, too?" James asked.

"Yeah, we came down on the coast road."

James smiled widely. "Wonderful. Let's have a drink together so we can catch up."

"I'll get you one," Sam said. "Jess is out back."

James patted Sam's shoulder and shrugged off his jacket before going out of the door. Sam went into the living room and poured James a whiskey from the decanter on the sideboard and carried it outside. James was sitting with Jessica at the table, his tie loosened and his expression relaxed if tired. Sam sat down and took a surreptitious look at his father. He looked worn down. There were light shadows under his eyes and his skin was pale.

"So," he said, leaning forward in his chair. "How are you really, Dad? You look tired."

"I'm okay. A little worn down maybe. I've been working."

"There's no food in the refrigerator. What have you been eating?"

James smiled ruefully. "Takeout and cafeteria food mostly." At Sam's scowl he went on. "Really, Sam, you know I'm a terrible cook anyway. I am probably better fed eating out than I would be trying to cook for myself."

Jessica was nodding with him and Sam shook his head in exasperation. "You're both hopeless. Well, unless you mind another night of takeout, Dad, we'll shop tomorrow and I'll cook enough to fill the freezer for you."

James relaxed back in his chair. "That sounds wonderful. Thank you, Son."

"You sure that's all though?" Sam asked. "You seem... different."

"That is all, I promise," James said. "I just need to eat."

"Rest too, maybe?" Jessica suggested.

James nodded. "Perhaps. I will see if I can try to take some time off while you're here. How long are you staying?"

"As long as you need us," Jessica answered.

Sam beamed at her. He knew Jessica would stay the entire summer break with him if he asked, dealing with her own family's disappointment, because that was just the kind of person she was. He would make sure that they spent time with her family, too.

"Wonderful," James said, "The lake will do you both good, and it'll be nice and quiet for you to get started on your LSAT study."

Sam exchanged a look with Jessica and they both grinned. "Sure thing, Dad," Sam said. "We've already got it covered."

Sam and James were standing on the jetty. In Sam's hands was his fishing rod, but he wasn't paying much attention to the task at hand; he was filling his father in on the things that had happened and what he had done since he'd last seen him.

"He had a car accident," Sam was saying. "Someone ploughed into the side of him at an intersection and the left side of his body was crushed. He spent months in hospital recovering, and by the time he got out he was financially ruined. He lost his job, and so his insurance; the bills were so high that he lost his house and life savings. He used to work for a children's charity, he helped kids, but he lost it all. Now all he has is the things he can carry on his back and a bench outside the hospital that saved and ruined him."

James nodded. "It's not an isolated case, I'm afraid. You know I do as much pro bono work as I can, but I can't control what comes after with the rehabilitation and recovery costs. Our family trust has relief funds set up for the homeless, but we can't help everyone."

"We do?" Sam asked.

"Yes. It was something your mother was passionate about—helping the needy."

"I didn't know," Sam said.

He didn't know that much about his mother as he didn't ask many questions. He knew it hurt his father to think about those times, so as soon as he was old enough to realize that, he stopped asking. Little details about her slipped from James sometimes, but that was all. He wished he'd had a chance to know her himself.

"You didn't ask," James said simply.

Silence fell between them for a while. Sam returned his attention to his line and began to jig the rod up and down.

"I'm sorry," James said eventually. "I know I am not always the most open man when it comes to family matters, but it's hard."

"I understand," Sam said quickly.

"I should talk about her more, I know."

Sam bit his lip, wondering if his father was about to start, but he didn't. He pulled his line from the water and reset the bait.

"I can help you to become involved with the foundation," James said. "I always thought it better that you finish your studies before becoming involved in the finances and family legacy, but perhaps now is the time."

"I'd like that. Me and Jess have plans to help out at home, but if there's more I can do, I'd like to do it."

"I will arrange a meeting for you and Ted Brattigan while you're here. He's our financial adviser and will be able to teach you about it better than I can."

"That'd be great."

James turned to him and smiled. "I'm glad you're doing this, Sam. You're growing into a great man."

Sam felt his cheeks warm. His father had always made sure to make him see how proud he was of him, but he had ever said anything like this before. "Thanks, Dad," he said.

"I mean it," he went on. "I never imagined I could have a son like you."

The phrasing fell strangely on Sam's ears. He didn't say would have a son, he said could. It was probably just a bad word choice, but it felt wrong to Sam. It was on the tip of his tongue to question it somehow, but then he felt a jerk in his hand as something tugged on his line.

"You've got something!" James said excitedly. "Reel it in, Sam."

As he reeled in the large trout that had caught on his line, with his father's hand on his shoulder, he shook his head, shaking off the thoughts. It was just the whole thing with Dean that had him jumping at shadows. James was his father and family. That was fact. The rest was the confusion of a grieving man's mind.

James was called into work the next day before Sam woke, despite the fact he still had a few days of vacation left, as there had been an emergency admission that he was needed for. Sam didn't see him until he came in late that evening, but when he did he was surprised by his father's appearance. He looked almost well. Sam had worried that his hearty meals and care hadn't been helping his father, but when he came back that evening his eyes were bright and his color better than it had been. It seemed his care was finally working. It didn't escape Sam's notice that it was the combination of food and work that made the difference, not rest. His father apparently needed to work to be well.

They didn't see as much of him as Sam would have liked over the next week. He returned late in the evenings and ate a quick meal with them before heading to bed only to wake early in the morning to go back to the hospital. But he seemed to become more well the more he worked.

Sam and Jessica occupied their days with mornings spent studying for the LSAT and afternoons exploring activities in the area and relaxing by the lake.

One evening Sam was preparing pasta for their dinner while Jessica sat at the island counter, quizzing him on facts and laws when Sam heard the front door open and close hard. Knowing his father wasn't usually a door slammer, he knew something had happened to really upset him.

He exchanged a look with Jessica, then wiped his hands on a cloth and walked into the hall. James was standing by the coat rack, his suit jacket in his hand. He seemed to be staring into the mirror beside the rack, his face mournful.

Sam rushed towards him and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Dad?"

James turned and Sam was shocked as he saw the look in his father's eyes; he was devastated. "Sam," he sighed.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked.

James shook his head. "I need a drink," he said instead of answering.

"Yeah, of course," Sam said. "You go sit down." He hurried into the living room and poured a generous measure of whiskey. He carried it to his father where he was sitting in a wing backed chair by the empty fireplace. James took it and sipped at it.

Jessica came into the room, and after exchanging a quizzical look with Sam, she sat down opposite James. Sam leaned against her chair and rested his hand on the back of her neck, feeling the silky strands of her hair under his fingers.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked his father.

James raised his head and looked at Sam. "I lost a patient today."

Sam was a little puzzled. James had lost countless patients over the years and Sam had never seen him react like this.

"It was a child," James went on.

"Oh," Jessica whispered.

James nodded. "And I tried everything, I did everything, but he slipped away anyway. And his poor parents…"

"It's not your fault," Sam said firmly. "You said it yourself, you tried everything."

"I should have tried harder!" James said angrily. "I didn't… I couldn't… And his poor parents. It seems they're going to lose both their children now."

"Both?" Jessica asked in a bewildered voice.

"They were both admitted a day apart. Pneumonia."

Sam felt Jessica's muscles bunch under his hand. He ran his hand down her back soothingly.

"That's terrible," he said.

"It's unusual, too, right?" Jessica asked.

"Yes," James said, his eyes fixed on his glass. "It's moving through families, sibling to sibling, and there's nothing I can do for them. I am trying everything I can think of."

"How many?" Jessica asked.

"There are five on the children's ward at the moment, comatose and fading."

Sam felt that Jessica was still tense, and he ran his hand up and down her back as he tried to find words to comfort. He wasn't surprised she was upset by the situation, as she was an incredibly compassionate woman.

"I need to sleep," James said, downing his whiskey and getting to his feet.

"You need to eat, too," Sam said. "You can't take care of them if you're run down, Dad."

James looked at him sympathetically. "I'm sorry, Son. I know you're trying to help, and I appreciate it, but I think I need to be alone right now."

Shoulders slumped and head bowed, he set down his glass on the side table and walked from the room. Sam watched him go, feeling helpless.

So… Children are dying. We know what that means, Jess knows what it means, but poor Sam is without a clue. John and Dean will be back in the next chapter and there will be a big development. See you all then.

Until next time…

Clowns or Midgets xxx