Disclaimer: I do not own these characters- they belong to Eric Kripke and I wouldn't have it any other way! The original story idea belongs to Lia Walker.

Summary: Sam and Dean find an unexpected hunt involving a crazy Victorian spirit and her old-fashioned remedies. Sam is 13 and Dean is 17. Adult Content. Sam!hurt, Dean!hurt/comfort, John!drunk/abusive, but not for long.

John felt he had to respect this new stranger for his presence and, as horrifying as the realization was, he found that the man was a lot like himself. That didn't mean he had to like the guy. In fact, his first impression was that this acquaintance of Brian's was a real asshole. If the situation hadn't been so dire, he probably would have just taken Dean somewhere else.

Unfortunately, he didn't have the choice. Dean was getting weaker by the minute and John didn't have the heart to try and move the boy again.

He studied Dean's face, trying to read him. That had always been a difficult task. Dean was known for the layers of walls he hid behind and unless he was really drugged up on pain meds, he rarely if ever spoke of his true feelings.

Being a dad did give him some advantages though. For instance, he knew that when his eldest used humor, he was usually hiding something important; whether it be the truth concerning what he does for a living from some pretty waitress he was preying on, or an injury he didn't want to address.

Also, if he looked close enough for the signs, he could tell if Dean was in pain by the small lines around his mouth that he tried to hide, resulting in a strange mixture of a smirk and a grimace. He would also clench and release his fists to give himself something else to concentrate on. Lastly, no matter how many walls Dean built around himself, he could never fully conceal his pain from his eyes.

John looked for all the signs, and found two out of three. Dean was trying to keep the pain off of his face but it was so intense at this point, that there were moments where a full out grimace would show. That's a very bad sign.

But still, it wasn't like Dean had never been in this much pain before. Sadly, pain was a large part of their lifestyle.

Thankfully, when he glanced down at Dean's hands, they remained lax on the table. Guess it can't be too bad then…

When he looked to his son's eyes, not only did he see the pain just below the surface, but he also saw barely controlled fear. John frowned. Dean had been through a lot in his short lifetime, and John could count on one hand the number of times his eldest had shown fear. His protective nature kicked in at full force and he moved closer to the table, laying a gentle and comforting hand on his son's good shoulder.

"It'll be okay, kiddo."

Dean glanced up at him, swallowed hard, and then nodded. He needed to believe in his father's words at this point. He was just too damn tired to keep up the façade after everything he had gone through in the last few days and it was a relief to have his father's soothing words to latch onto.

That warm feeling quickly disappeared when the stranger approached the other side of the table, gloved hands in the air and ready for action. He felt like a lab rat that was about to be dissected.

"Alright, who's gonna tell me what the hell happened to this kid so we can save some time without a full exam?"

Brian spoke up, being the only one in the room that could catalogue all of Dean's injuries. "He broke floating rib number twelve on both sides and fractured rib eleven on the right, he has a recently reset dislocated shoulder which is badly bruised and swollen, bruising all the way down his back, particularly around his spinal column, a medium grade fever that has been steadily rising for a while now, the deep slice through the artery of his right wrist that may or may not be infected at this point, shallow cuts on his wrists from handcuffs, lacerations across his back from an unknown source…" At that Brian paused, glancing sideways at John who nodded gratefully. "Other than that, he's more than likely dehydrated and there is a possibility he will get contusions on his chest from CPR which had to be performed earlier. Did I miss anything?" He glanced at John more directly this time.

"God, I hope not."

Brian's father rolled his eyes. "Well get comfy cause it sounds like we're gonna be here for a while. First thing's first. We need to stop this wrist from makin' a bigger mess of my table. Get my suture kit, Brian."

"Yes, sir."

Sam quirked an eye at John. Maybe his father wasn't so old fashioned after all. Then again, Brian's dad wasn't exactly a spry youth either.

Brian returned with the requested kit and laid it on the table next to Dean for easy reach.

"Don't put it down on the table, you fool! You'll just contaminate all my disinfected tools! Didn't they teach you anything before handing out that diploma? Hold the damn box if it isn't too heavy for you and stand by me where I can reach it."

Brian bowed his head, his cheeks flushing pink. "Yes, sir," he repeated quietly and did as he was told.

Suddenly, John wasn't looking like such a horrible father to Sam. Suddenly, his dad was the best man on the planet. He knew they needed a professional's help, but Sam wished to hell they could just get out of that house and have John and Bobby put his brother back together again.

Unfortunately, not even Humpty Dumpty was able to choose who his attempted saviors would be. He, just like Dean, had to grit his teeth and bare it, praying that the outcome would be worth it.

Please, just give me somethin' for the pain already. Anything…

Dean blinked slowly up at the man towering over him. His whole body was still throbbing at the same pace as his racing heart, but for some reason the intense fire he felt burning through his veins was slowly lessening in its intensity. He felt sluggish and on the verge of falling back into the darkness. So close…

"Hey! Wake the hell up, kid. If I can't sleep now, then neither can you."

Dean jolted back to awareness with a groan. He had been so close to relief, he almost felt like crying. Almost. After all, Winchesters don't cry. His vision cleared just long enough to see the curved needle in the doctor's gloved hand. The man was holding a small torch flame to it, disinfecting it the old fashioned way. Crap. That's gonna sting like a bitch.

John's hand tightened automatically on his shoulder. "Can't you give him somethin' for the pain first?"

"Getting this bleeding under control is more of a necessity right now, don't you agree? I can't risk meds thinning his blood even more. Prepare yourself, kid," was the only warning Dean got before he felt the sharp pain glide through his torn wrist and then pull taut.

Sam growled and headed for the old man who had forced a small yelp from his big brother. "His name is Dean! Not kid!"

"Don't make no difference to me, boy. Right now, he's my patient cause my son is too inept to fix these injuries himself. Now shut up and let me concentrate, runt."

John grabbed his youngest's arm before Sam could get close enough to the doctor to inflict harm. "Let it go, Sammy."

"But he…!"

"I said let it go."

"Yes, sir," Sam grumbled through clenched teeth. All the rage he had been feeling for himself since Peter was officially gone came flooding to the surface and he wanted to vent on the stranger who was hurting his brother even more. However, John knew Sam a little too well and tightened his grip before nodding to Bobby who understood the request immediately. Get him outta here.

Bobby nodded back, then strode over and took Sam by the shoulders, intending to guide him into one of the other rooms.

"No! Bobby, let go! I'm not going anywhere!"

"You're not helpin' matters here, son. You need to step away and cool off a bit."

That's when Sam exploded. "How can I cool off when I know that this is all my fault?! I helped the spirit kidnap my brother! I left him cuffed to that bed all that time… Let her do horrible things to him and I just stood there obediently and did what she told me to! So tell me, Bobby, how the hell can I forgive myself for that?"

"Outside, Sam. Now." Bobby tightened his grip on the boy's shoulders and steered him to the front door. After fighting the first few steps, Sam relented and allowed himself to be lead away. He felt just as drained as everyone else in the room did, perhaps moreso due to the fact that he hadn't slept since all of this had began and the guilt that was weighing him down. He just didn't have the strength to fight back anymore.

Dean watched the exchange happen, thankful for the distraction and glad that Sam wouldn't have to witness the patch job he was going to need. He'd be safer outside with Bobby. The next stab of the needle brought his attention back to the task at hand. He hissed through his teeth and turned his face away from his still bleeding arm.

"How many more?" John demanded, wincing every time his son did.

"You really want me to stop and try to guestimate an answer for you or would you like me to stop your son from bleeding to death?"

If only looks could kill… Dean didn't think he had ever seen his father that pissed off before, and he hoped to hell he never would again. Yet another reason he was glad his little brother had been taken outside. That face was quite easily nightmare-inducing material.

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Once Bobby had the door shut behind him and Sam, he released the boy's arm to give him room to vent. Sam immediately started wandering off, pacing towards the cars and then back towards the house once again. Bobby waited silently, knowing that Sam would start talking as soon as he was ready. It didn't take nearly as long as he had thought it would.

"Every injury my brother is sporting right now is because of me, you know that?"

Bobby sighed. "You know damn well that ain't true, son. You weren't yourself. You blame Brian for what he did?"

"No, but he was possessed and…!"

"And you were too in a way. You had no way to control what was happenin'. In fact, if you had been yourself you would have been no better off than your brother in there, understand? That spirit was deranged and wanted nothin' more than her two boys back and she wasn't gonna take no for an answer. You aren't responsible for a single one of those injuries on your brother, do ya hear me?"

"Bobby, I…"

"Answer me, boy."

"Yes, sir. I hear you." Sam hung his head, unsure if he felt relieved or dejected at this point.

"Come here, Sam."

Sam wiped a stray tear from his cheek and shuffled his way back over to Bobby who put a strong hand on either side of the boy's face, tilting his head up until they made eye contact.

"It ain't your fault, kiddo. None of this is."

The sincerity in Bobby's eyes was the straw that broke the camel's back and the flood gates opened. Tears streamed down the boy's face as all the events and fears from the last few days flashed through Sam's mind in quick succession.

Bobby pulled the youngest Winchester into his chest and wrapped his arms comfortingly around the small boy who clung to him in return, desperate for absolution.

"He's gonna be fine, Sam. You'll see."

TBC

Hope that wasn't too emotional for you guys! Please please please review! More patching up of Dean and family drama to come!