Happy Friday people! I just wanted to say a HUGE thank you to all of you, I have been in a really good place these past few weeks and most of that is down to you guys so thank you for always being here and being so sweet! It means so much to me! (((Cookiehug!)))

Badass Beta/Awesome Editor- Samanatha V

Pain takes my hearts place

About six in the morning or so Dean guessed, he woke to someone coughing not far from his bedroom door, three guesses who that was. Though Mary said John was doing okay, it didn't sound like it.

When the front door squeaked open, and he faintly heard the familiar rumble of the Impala as it started up, Dean mentally slapped himself for being so over-dramatic. John was going to work, he was fine if he felt up to a day of repairing cars. God knows he and Sam spent just half the evening there last night and it was more exhausting than the ten mile runs his uncle forced him to do when he was ten years old - one mile for one year of life was his motto. Dean had hoped one day to have the guts to ask his uncle why he never saw him running thirty odd or so miles once a week. Didn't matter anymore, but it still bugged Dean when he thought about it too long.

Knowing he wasn't going to go back to sleep now -or if he did he would probably start dreaming about the asshole he'd just gotten out of his head- he got out of bed and made his way to the living room. He smiled when Angus wasn't far behind and paused to let him out to run in the yard for a bit.

Shivering a little as he let the happy animal back in, he turned on the TV and curled up on the couch with the throw John had been using the last few days. Tucking it around his legs he smiled as Angus made himself comfortable by his feet.

He flicked through some mind numbingly painful kid's shows before landing on something half decent that he and the furry guy could both tolerate.

Time flew by in about a second and before he knew it, the show had ended and he was sitting at his desk at the back of the class with his head propped up on his hand with his lids drooping; tomorrow he was going to tape his eyes open because this was just getting ridiculous. Classes were boring when exams were over, all anyone talked about was the stupid tests and how well they'd done. Dean swore if one more person, student or even teacher asked him how he'd scored, he'd clock them one, and make it hurt.

Science class was even more dreary, if that was possible, because the teacher was nowhere in sight and it didn't look like a replacement was coming any time soon. Everyone was sitting around chatting to their friends about crap which meant Dean was sitting in silence, thinking too loud for his own good. His interest only perked up at an announcement that until further notice all students had to stay on school property at all times and were to avoid walking home alone. Listening to the pointless buzz of his fellow students, he wasn't surprised when none of them paid any attention.

"Oh my god I totally thought I'd messed up my math but I got a freakin' A! My dad said he was gonna buy me a car 'cause I've like totally aced everything."

Oh my good lord give my strength before I deck this loser!

"Hey!" a tightly screwed up ball of paper hit Dean on the side of the head bringing him out of his 'how do you kill a jock slowly?' thoughts. He glared at the no-neck asshole who launched the paper, tightening his fists under the table. Now is not the time to get suspended Dean, he repeated silently.

"How'd you score?" the proverbial dick sniggered and grinned alongside his smirking friends. Girlfriends more like.

"Good," Dean lied, not wanting to sound stupid by telling them he forgot to check for his marks because he was too busy last night –trying to be a good son- he reminded himself.

"What did your parents buy you?" This was obviously a very lame display of how much money the jerk had compared to others, but Dean refused to take the bait.

"Having a rich daddy ain't the most important thing in the world sweetheart." Dean grinned casually snatching another tossed ball of paper out of the air and then into the trash bin yards from his desk, impressively without even looking where he was aiming.

Dean couldn't help chuckling to himself when the jock waggled his fist in warning, looking to his girlfriends they too squared their shoulders and pouted at him, which Dean guessed was meant to be challenges to a fist fight when school was out.

Dean simply smiled and kept his eyes dark and growled. "I'd send you running home to mommy and daddy in seconds and the car money they saved will have to go to your plastic surgery fund 'cause there's no way in hell you'd go home looking pretty when I'm done with you."

The teacher then chose that moment to walk in and apologize for being late. The pack of jocks lost their chance to retaliate with something like 'we're totally OMG gonna kick your ass at three.'

The teacher started the lesson quickly and everyone took their seats, but Dean still couldn't help but chuckle at the Hardy boys that turned around and scowled at him every so often.

Maybe this day ain't gonna be so boring after all.

He hoped this morning was as exciting for everyone else, too bad he was right.

SPN

John's morning started off even more miserable. When his work buddies walked into the office to find him printing off some insurance information for a customer, he didn't get the most flattering of greetings.

"Whoa, John you look like shit on toast, only without the toast."

"Good morning to you too," he snapped back with little conviction, he didn't care enough to put force behind his usual sarcastic phrases today.

"Shouldn't you be in bed? There's no way you're working today." The pale face highlighted with a fever blush and distinct wheezing noises made the mechanic wonder how the man could even be standing.

"Huh, that's funny Jack, I thought I was the boss and told people what to do around here? Oh wait, I am."

He didn't like to admit it, but they were right, he would kill for a bed and some of Mary's soup right now. Picking up a few sheets of paper and stapling them together took more energy than he had to spare. But he didn't have time to be sick, he had a family to look after. He'd booked some football tickets for Saturday for himself, Steve and his boys and Mary said they needed to go to the mall for some new stuff. Money didn't grow on trees.

A tap on the desk knocked him from his thoughts. It was Cal, his worried expression inches from John's face.

"You sure you're alright man, seriously, you don't look good."

"Thank you but I'm fine. Now go on, I don't pay you to be my nurse, I pay you to fix those things out there that some people like to call cars."

With that, the few guys hovering around left to go work.

Now alone, John took a deep breath to try and shake off the shivers running through his arms. It didn't work so he chose to groan in misery.

Suck it up Marine!

He decided to leave the paper work alone for the time being and get down to some real work. Keeping his shaking hands busy would keep his mind off the pit in his stomach hopefully long enough until it went away.

His guys yet again tried to get him to sit down but their efforts weren't well received. Reluctantly dropping their protests as they moved back to their jobs, silent glances communicated what they were all thinking – the boss sure got cranky when he was sick.

John was under a rather crappy Ford Taurus when his fingertips started to tingle. He dropped the tools and stretched out his hands deciding they were probably just aching from him not using them in a few days. Picking a wrench up, he concentrated on removing a stubborn bolt when the world began to spin.

Was the air getting thinner under there or was the car sinking closer to his face?

Deep breaths John, deep breaths.

Big mistake!

He rolled to the side as much as he could in the tight space and didn't bother covering his mouth as he coughed long and hard before spitting out the gunk from his throat.

Maybe it's time to come out now, he said to himself as he heard through his cotton wool ears Cal and the others asking if he was okay.

He felt hands pulling him forward until he reached light and took some breaths of the clean fresh air, willing his hammering chest to slow down.

What's wrong with you? He asked his heart that wouldn't stop thumping - damn it was louder than Dean pounding on his punching bag after a hard day.

He sat up from the floor and wiped a hand down his clammy face. His palm came away wet and cold. He was sweating bullets, that was strange because he was freezing his ass off.

He could just make out the care-lined face of his lead mechanic kneeling beside him. "John, dude you don't look good. Come on I'll take you the doctors, maybe they can give you something."

"N-no, m'fine, just the fumes. Shut up and get back to work." No one moved to do as he said. "Now!" he barked, another mistake as it set off his hacking again, when he was done he felt like his head would soon explode from the pressure.

As the seconds went on his vision started to cave in, things were blurry and dark and somewhere in the distance someone was wheezing. It was painful to hear, never mind feel. John worried for the person who's breathing was turning into fast strangled pants.

Oh, wait, that's me.

Next he felt two sets of hands pull him up from the floor and drag him to a comfortable chair.

Don't we usually save these for customers only?

If he had the strength, he would have clocked the men that put him there because his stomach was now flipping and making it rather challenging to keep his breakfast down. His head sunk to his chest and his eye lids sagged.

"John? John? Stay with me, come on man, hey stay awake!"

Oh would you shut up, my head hurts! Why the hell are you yelling?

"John? Johnny? Okay you gotta breathe buddy, come on!"

Uh, can you call Mare to come pick me up? I don't feel so good.

"I know man, just stop talking and concentrate on breathing."

Oh, I said that out loud?

"John shut your yap and breathe!"

Trying here! Does it look like I'm enjoying this?

"Easy man, we're gonna get you help, take you the hospital and we'll call Mary and everything will be okay, don't you worry about a thing."

Easy for you to say! You don't have a freakin' elephant on your chest! I'm freakin' out here!

As his panic rose, the pain in his chest started to intensify and his muscles erupted in tiny shakes, his teeth chattering together as his skin turned white hot. The palm tapping his cheek hurt like a bitch, hell, the light hands on his shoulders hurt like a bitch. He couldn't even help himself from whimpering when the shooting agony ran through every fibber in his body.

"Call a damn ambulance! John? John!"

SPN

"Hey Sammy, do you know if there was any mail yesterday?"

"No idea, why?"

"No reason, just... my teacher said the results from our exams were gonna be sent home but I forgot all about it till I was in class and everyone was... well, swapping car models."

"Huh?" Sam asked not getting it.

"All the rich bitches are apparently getting cars for doing so well, but whatever."

"Oh, you're not like... do you want a car?" Sam asked getting the wrong impression. They weren't a poor family by any means but they weren't rich either so maybe Dean was starting to realise that and wanted more in life, like a new flashy car and brand new cell phone and other swanky gadgets they didn't have.

"Nah, like I told Princess Jock, more to life than having a rich daddy."

Sam smiled, he thought so too. Rich mother and father who were assholes and let the nanny raise their kids, or not so rich but pretty awesome parents who would bend over backwards for anything you wanted just because they loved you.

"Do you know why we can't leave the school grounds?" Looking around Sam saw way more students hanging around the field than normal.

"Who knows Sam, probably some perv has been seen skulking in the bushes. Nothing for you to worry about."

Sam looked up at his brother uncertainly.

"Seriously Sam, I wouldn't let anything ever hurt you." Dean's voice was a deadly calm Sam had never heard before and it comforted and kind of scared him.

"So, are we going to the shop tonight like yesterday?" Sam changed the suddenly serious subject.

"You want to?"

"Yeah, plus dad might get us ice cream before we go home."

Dean smiled, Sam was such a kid, "Doesn't your mom frown upon ice cream before dinner?"

"Well, yeah, but what she doesn't know won't hurt her," Sam grinned.

"I am totally a bad influence on you," that was usually Dean's motto.

"Or maybe I'm just getting wiser in my old age."

"Old age, what are you now, eight?" Dean joked ruffling Sam's hair.

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

Their bickering didn't last long before the bell went again and it was time to drag themselves back into class.

Sam sat at his desk tapping his pen, usually he liked history but today he couldn't wait to get home. Unfortunately that time came sooner than he expected.

A school secretary interrupted the class, whispered with his teacher and then he was called.

"Sam, if you could please grab your bag and coat? Your brother's waiting for you outside."

Sam felt a cold shiver through his whole body as he stood and collected his things. What was wrong with Dean? He was fine when he left for his class just a couple of minutes ago, what had happened and why was he waiting in the hall?

A few kids in his class tutted as he left with his things, wishing they got to leave early too and how lucky was Sam right now. Only Sam didn't think so, going home early was never a good thing, never, not for anyone.

The Secretary stood just outside waiting with Dean. He liked her, she always reminded him of his kindergarten teacher from when he was little, but he didn't like the look of sympathy she was giving him now.

"Hey, you ready?" Dean also stood with his bag and jacket, looking just as worried as Sam.

"Yeah, what's going on?"

"Sam," the secretary leaned down closer and put her hand on his shoulder. Sam blinked, this was so very not good. "Your father has taken ill. Your Uncle Steve Ward is going to come and pick you up."

Sam was so shocked he didn't make a fuss when Dean took his bag and carried it for him as they left for the office. Things must be bad if Dean was carrying his things for him, he only did that when Sam was sick or something.

"What... why Steve?" Sam managed to squeak, trying to process what was happening.

"Your mom's busy," Dean replied. He'd replaced the secretary's hand with his own as he gently guided his upset sibling. He'd never admit it but he kind of needed the contact himself to stop from shaking.

"With what?"

"Well she can't pick us up and take us, so Steve is."

"Take us where?"

"Sam it's fine, everything is sorted out, we just have to go home and drop our stuff off, though you might wanna bring your homework 'cause it might be a long wait but your mom said it would be fine so just don't worry okay, just follow my lead and everything will be fine." Dean was babbling, avoiding the subject and poorly trying to seem like he wasn't.

Sam stopped in the middle of the hall. "Dean, what's wrong?" He was not going to move until someone told him what was happening.

Dean stopped in front of him, he gave Sam a long sympathetic sigh before placing a hand on his other shoulder as well.

"Your dad..."

"What's wrong with my dad?" he was getting better, he'd gone to work, he was better.

"Sammy... dad might have had a heart attack."

TBC...