Will have language and possibly graphic violence.

Summary: Sequel to Meddlesome Fools. Major ANGST! John's decisions are weighing heavily on him and nightmares plague his dreams. The demon is still keeping tabs on the boys and making itself know with Dean's migraines. Then there's the new kid…

Disclaimer: I do not own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I did! Enjoy!! Yes I will probably use direct quotes in this story, but I admit it so please don't sue me!!

Warning: Will contain child abuse! If you don't like it, please don't read it!

John looked up as his youngest stormed into the kitchen.

"Sam?"

"Dean wants to see you."

John struggled with his conscience. He really wanted to see his son and make sure he was okay, but on the other hand, he didn't want to scare Dean even more by his presence. The later argument won out and he shook his head just as Bobby joined them at the table.

"No. He's not ready for…"

"John, he's askin' for ya. If he wasn't ready…"

John's tentative hold on stability snapped as his anger flooded him and he stood abruptly.

"Well then maybe I'm not ready! Jesus, Bobby… I just… I can't see the fear in his eyes again, knowing that I'm the one who put it there. I can't feel him flinch underneath my hand when I'm trying to comfort him. I can't and I won't."

"So hurting him wasn't enough? Now you're going to deny his wishes and shut him out?!" Sam's anger matched his father's.

"Damn it, Sam! I have nothing to say to him!"

"How about I'm sorry?! How about I'm a complete asshole but I never meant to hurt you?!"

"Don't you understand?! Sorry isn't enough right now! Not after what I…"

"At least it's something! If you shut him out now when he needs you the most, you'll lose him forever. And if not him, then certainly me." Sam crossed his arms defiantly over his chest.

John's stomach flipped as the demon's words came back to him. Sammy's going to leave you and Dean behind one day, and there is nothing you can do about it.

I can't let that happen…

"Alright! Christ… I'll go talk to him." Feeling the others' eyes burning holes in his back, he slowly made his way towards the bedroom door. For a quick second, he entertained the idea of making a mad dash for the front door instead and just driving away to give himself time to think and collect himself. But before he could act on it, his feet had carried him into the other room. He cleared his throat to let Dean know of his presence. Dean looked up from his lap.

"Dad…"

Remember what Sammy said… It's a simple sentence. You can do it…

"Dean, I'm…"

"I'm sorry."

John was completely thrown. Dean had beaten him to the punch, but why? He took another step into the room towards his eldest.

"For what, son?" For being my kid? For having ever met me?

"For not reacting fast enough." Dean's eyes dropped to the sheet pooled in his lap again and John's stomach dropped to the floor. In fact, he was pretty sure he had just stepped on it too.

"Oh, Dean… This was not your fault, do you hear me?"

"I should've known better than to wake you up from a nightmare. I wasn't thinking."

"So… you remember what happened now?" Flashes of Dean begging for his torturers to stop flooded John's mind as well as Dean's pride that he hadn't cracked and revealed anything important to his "captors".

Dean blushed slightly and nodded. "Yeah. I remember. I dunno what that whole freak out was about. The stuff in my head just seemed so real, you know?"

Roger, who had been lurking near Ethan's bed, had overheard the last few sentences and decided he needed to speak up. "It's a common occurrence and nothing to be ashamed of, Dean. With the amount of pain you were in, your mind tried to invent a reason you were willing to accept to explain what had happened. Excuse me for butting in…"

Dean forced a smirk but barely succeeded. "So I'm not completely crazy?"

"Completely? Nah…" Roger smiled back.

"Dean, there is no excuse for what I did and no amount of apologizing is going to correct it, but I need you to understand that I'd never intentionally hurt you or your brother like that."

"I know that, dad. Hell, after livin' with you for fifteen years, I think I know you pretty well."

"You were always a sharp kid."

"Speakin' of… how's Sammy handlin' all this?"

"He's pretty pissed."

Dean nodded. He had expected that. Great. Just another reason for his little brother to hate his father and for Dean to get stuck in the middle.

"I'll talk to him. Don't worry about it. He'll get over it."

"Yeah, maybe. But it's not him I'm concerned about right now. Hey, Roger? You mind takin' a look at my kid to make sure he'll be alright?"

"Dad, I'm fine."

John didn't even acknowledge Dean's words, knowing them to be a lie. As much as his eldest tried to hide the pain he was in, he could still see it in his boy's eyes.

"Don't argue, Dean. I just… I need to know the extent of the damage I caused."

"Dad, don't."

"Dean…"

"Please. I'm gonna be okay. It barely hurts right now."

"That's cause you're doped up on pain killers. While we're on that topic, can I get you anythin'?"

Dean thought about it for a moment, holding back the plea for more pain killers because he didn't want his father to know how badly his abdomen burned right now. He thought about asking for more water, when a different problem came to light.

Dean was about to mention the fact that he needed to go to the bathroom when he suddenly realized he didn't have to anymore. What the...? He lifted the sheet enough to find the reason why and groaned.

"Oh hell no! Dad…!" John winced at the angered tone.

"It's only for a while, Dean. Till you're well enough to get back on your feet."

"I'm well enough now! I want it gone!"

"Relax, son. You need to give your body time to heal. Just go with it for now, okay? For me?"

Dean let out a frustrated sigh before reluctantly agreeing. John patted his knee.

"Alright, Dean. I'm gonna wait out in the kitchen so the doc can do his thing. Call if you need anything."

Still with a heavy heart filled with guilt, John slowly rose from his perch on the bed and turned to leave.

"Wait! Dad…"

John turned back to his son, wary of what he was going to say next.

Dean latched onto his forearm and locked sincere eyes with him, making John feel like a child about to be scolded.

"I forgive you."

John thought he was going to fall to pieces right then and there, in front of his son. Those three words were his absolution and Dean knew how much he needed to hear them. John smiled with tears in his eyes, patted his son's hand, then kissed him on the head.

"Thank you, Dean."

With that, he left the room wiping at his eyes.

Roger moved over to Dean's bed. "That was a very good thing you did, kiddo."

Dean shrugged. "There's nothin' to forgive. I mean, I know it wasn't his fault, but I also know he thinks it is and he needed to hear me say that."

"You're wise beyond your age."

"Yep. Just call me Yoda. Any chance I can get some pain killers now?"

"That bad, huh?" Roger frowned.

"I've been better. It kinda burns."

"Let's have a look." Roger opened the two halves of Dean's shirt and was pleased to find the bandage was still white. He gently peeled it away from the wound to find it had basically stopped bleeding and the stitches still held. "Looks good so far. Think you can sit up a bit so we can get a clean shirt on you?"

Dean groaned at the thought. Moving wasn't exactly high up on his list of things to do. But don't look weak was at the top of that list so he bit his lip and nodded.

Roger pulled a clean button up shirt out of Dean's bag and then helped the boy slowly sit up, pausing when the pain was becoming too much for him.

"Almost there…" The doc kept one hand on Dean's back to keep him from falling backwards and the other slid the old shirt off of his shoulders and worked the clean one on in its place, leaving it unbuttoned. "Much better." He lowered Dean back down to the mattress and re-bandaged his wound.

Then he checked the kid's blood pressure, respiration, temperature, and the pulse in his femoral artery to make sure blood was still getting into his legs.

"You're well on your way down the road of recovery, kid." Roger smiled warmly at Dean as he laid the sheets back over him for warmth and privacy. He injected some more pain killers into one of Dean's IVs and patted him on the chest. "Get some more rest, Dean. You've still got a ways to go."

TBC

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