Supernatural does not belong to me, although I wish it did. I am simply playing in Kripke's sandbox for a bit. All rights and ownership are the property of Kripke and the CW network. I am not making any money from this; it is for my own personal pleasure.

Synopsis: Set at the start of Season One, Dean had been in a wheelchair since his father disappeared more than a year ago and he finally has to tell Sam… There'd been an accident that night and Dean had paid a very high price…one he still doesn't understand. The story will have some hunts from season one and possibly into season two…the brothers will continue their search for their father…there will be alterations to the hunts to accommodate Dean's new situation. I have every intention of returning Dean to good health before this ends…but getting there is going to be bumpy.

Please keep in mind that I do not have a Beta, so all grammatical errors are my own. Not Slash. Brotherly love and Angst only…

Please Review: They keep me motivated. This is my sad little plea for feedback... Thank you all who did review the last chapter...and thank you to all guest reviewers that I can't PM.

Chapter 25

Past Sins

It had been two days since their most recent visit with Gordon…and Dean's vision was still bad. He could see lights and shadows and large shapes. But he couldn't see anything clearly. Everything was basically a large blob with light and dark shadows…but no real definition.

He was leaning against a counter with his hands holding him upright and staring into the sink of the bathroom in another nameless motel…he could hear Sam bustling around in the other room and he sighed in frustration as he felt around for the toothbrush he'd originally come in here for. Sam was taking this whole thing with Gordon about as well as Dean would if he'd been the reason that Sam'd gotten hurt. Not that he was blaming Sam…but he knew his brother well enough to know that his younger brother was a walking ball of angst where he was concerned. Particularly lately…ever since Dean got his legs back and they'd started hunting again.

But true to Winchester luck…the universe really hated Dean Winchester. He couldn't figure out what it was with him that seemed keep getting him not only injured but like seriously life changingly injured. It was bullshit and he hated it. He looked for the 'blob' that had to be a towel and reach almost blindly for it as he set the toothbrush down. He swore when he heard it hit the bathroom floor and he was immediately on his knees looking for the damn thing. And….thank you universe…that's where he was when his brother found him. On his hands and knees feeling along the rough tile for a toothbrush that there was no way in hell he'd be using again after this little excursion to the dirty motel floor.

"Dean?" Sam asked he pushed the door open slowly. He'd only wanted to see if Dean needed anything and he hadn't gotten an immediate answer which had led him to go against one of his brother's primary directives 'Don't interrupt a man while he's alone in the bathroom.' The sight of his older brother feeling across the floor for…what?...oh, a toothbrush…that happened to be resting near Sam's foot…was both incredibly sad and a little funny all at the same time. Sam leaned down and picked up the offending blue plastic and the reached down to try and help his brother to his feet. "I got it, Dean…" he said as his brother actually allowed him to be pulled upright.

"Sorry…couldn't see where it landed." Dean muttered as he righted himself and then reached out for the wall and scooted past Sam's body and into the other room. Sam furrowed his eyebrows and then shook his head as he tossed the brush into the trash…Dean won't use it after this anyways. He thought to himself. This whole thing with Dean's eyes was starting to worry him. Initially he'd been okay with waiting for the swelling on his brother's head to go down and then he'd assumed that Dean's vision would return to normal…it hadn't.

"I tossed that one out Dean." He said as he followed Dean into the other room. Watching silently as his brother picked around in his duffel bag for a t-shirt and some socks. His jeans were resting low on his hips and Sam found his eyes being drawn to the scars that littered his brother's body. The ones that marred his back were probably mostly from hunts…or those damn redneck hicks that had tortured him. But the ones on his chest…which immediately drew Sam's attention as soon as Dean turned to sit on the bed and put on his socks…those were all Sam's fault, the sigils that would be a permanent part of his skin from now on. He'd done that to Dean…well not physically…but he'd allowed it to happen and that was just as bad….as far as he was concerned.

"I'm gonna run to the gas station and grab us some coffee…any special requests?" Sam asked when he could no longer stand staring at the damage on Dean's body. He grabbed the keys to the Impala and then moved past where Dean was currently pulling his grey t-shirt over his still slightly damp hair.

"Uh…if you can wait a minute I'll go with you?" Dean asked as he looked up at the blurry form of his big 'little' brother.

"I'm only gonna be like…10 minutes Dean." He insisted. Sam wanted a few moments to himself…to work through his rising emotions where his older brother was concerned. He was not handling the changes in their lives as well as he would have liked and he could use a few moments to clear his head. But then the memories of leaving his brother less than two weeks ago…alone…resurfaced and he understood where Dean's fear was coming from. "I'm not running Dean…I just want to grab some coffee…and maybe a new toothbrush for you." He watched as Dean processed this rejection of his company and against his better judgment, finally nodded and settled back onto the bed.

"As long as it's not pink." He said with a slight smile. "And make it the soft kind." Dean added as he watched the Sam-blob move away from him. He heard his brother chuckle at the request.

"Okay, soft and not pink. Got it." Sam said as he pulled open the door of their room, walking out into the crisp cool air of the October morning.

"And some donuts." Dean called after his retreating form…but before he could shut the door.

"Fine…donuts too." Sam called over his shoulder as he descended the stairs and walked to the car.

XXXX

Dean sat on bed listening to the tv…he couldn't see it, but he could hear the VH1 show that Sam had found before he'd barged in on Dean's bathroom time. He might need to reiterate the rules of living with Dean when his brother got back. Cuz, that little one, was right at the top of the list just below Don't use all the hot water princess.

It had been way too long and Dean was pacing now…he'd managed to figure out where all of the furniture was, so he wasn't stumbling into things…but Sam had been gone for far longer than he'd said he would be and Dean was worried. What was it with his brother? Every time Dean turned his back, his brother was disappearing on him…whether by his choice, or through the actions of others… this problem seemed to be a new emerging pattern in their lives.

He sat down at the table in their room and leaned his head into his hands…every single time that Sam did this, it played havoc with his emotions. Dean loved his brother…more than anything….but this stubborn streak in Sam was gonna kill him. Disappearing then reappearing at random places and having done random things that he couldn't fully explain to Dean. The last time with Gordon and Ava and the whole getting beaten by the wacked out hunter…and then thinking that he'd managed to kill Sam…? Well, that wasn't the first time that Sam had disappeared. His thoughts jumped to that time in Flagstaff…he'd sworn to himself that he wouldn't think about that time and what he'd endured as a result of Sammy's 'down time'. He'd thought he was over that whole thing…apparently he was totally wrong about that.

Dean was munching away happily on a piece of licorice…he loved the stuff…and he knew that Sam hated it… Like really hated the long ropey candy…so Dean had gotten an extra-large bag just to taunt his little brother. The kid had turned into one moody and difficult to live with little bastard since he'd turned thirteen. Which was part of the reason why Dean had let the little shit walk home from the library today. Sam was starting to bitch about nearly everything that their father did…and it was creating some serious heat between him and their father. And that heat was starting to blow back on Dean. Their father was angrier than usual and he was certainly more likely to cuff Dean upside the head for simple things lately. But since Sam had started his little bitchy emo-fest, their father had come after Dean with more force than usual. He twisted his ribs carefully as he remembered the shot he'd taken to them for defending Sam about a week ago. Nothing had been broken, but he'd certainly been bruised by the power behind the blow…not to mention more than a little surprised.

While John wasn't exactly father of the year, he'd never out and out hit Dean like that. Not even when they sparred, his father would pull his punches to avoid injuring his sons. But this time he hadn't. He'd let fly with a roundhouse punch straight to Dean's lower ribs while informing him that he needed to get his brother in line. Because the only reason he would be lashing out like this, was if Dean was somehow 'fueling' it. Dean had stared at his father from his hunched over position with a look of utter surprise and a deep and intense hurt reflecting from his bright green eyes.

After that he'd tried to stay away from his father, for at least a few days. He ignored both the flash of physical pain and the gnawing feeling that was growing exponentially in his stomach with the increasing emotional distance he felt happening between him and both of the other members of his small family. Seemed like lately he wasn't really any good to either one of the other Winchesters…but he'd keep that to himself and he'd continue to watch out for both them…because, that was his job.

He pulled the key to their room from his pocket and opened the door, fully expecting to hear Sammy bitching from his bed about the light interrupting his reading. But all Dean got was utter silence…he frowned as he set his bag down on the bed closest to the door and flipped on the lights, flooding the small room with pale yellow as he scanned it for his brother. Nothing. No Sam…he started moving through the room, his pace increasing toward panicked…looking for the kid, he wasn't in the bathroom and…yeah…that was pretty much the extent of the place.

He grabbed the keys to the Impala and rushed from the room, carefully locking the door behind him as he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed the number. It rang until the Sam's voice came over the speaker, telling whoever was calling to 'leave a message'. Dean's heart was starting to pump at an irregular rate as he crawled into the car and fired up her engine.

Three hours later he was sitting back in the parking lot, his head leaning against the steering wheel in frustration and anger. No one had seen Sam. He'd left the library six hours ago and then…nothing. The trail just went ice cold. Dean knew what he had to do now…but frankly he was scared shitless of what his father was going to say when he found out that Dean had 'lost' his younger brother. He was fairly sure the hit he'd taken the other day…was only the start of what his father was going to do to him. And 'damn-it' he deserved it. He'd let his irritation with Sam's growing rebelliousness affect his primary directive of protecting the kid…and now? He was gone and Dean had no clues…or leads about where he was.

He'd called Sam's cell until the voice mail was full…he'd texted until he'd known that there was no way that Sam wouldn't have answered him…if he could have. And now…Dean's hands were shaking as he picked his phone to make the final call to his father.

"Dean?" Came the gruff voice after several rings. That was unusual; his father almost never answered his phone. "What do you want now?"

Dean swallowed hard as a lump formed in his throat. The burning behind his eyes had to be from the smoke in the air…fire somewhere or something…yeah, that would explain the tears. "Uh…dad…Sammy's missing." He blurted out. He cringed when his father started throwing explicatives his way…like every single one that Dean had ever heard in his seventeen years…and some he hadn't. He finally pulled the phone slightly away from his ear and just laid his head against the cold glass of the driver's window. Finally, his father must have run out things to call him, because he heard the silence as John waited for an explanation.

"He was supposed to be at the library and then come straight home…but when he didn't show up, I went to the library to get him and he'd left there over three hours before I asked about it. I talked to his study partner and also to the librarians and some people that were just milling around…none of them remembered seeing anything weird." Dean gulped in air before he continued, not daring to tell his father that none of them even remembered the floppy haired teen. "He's just gone dad. No trail, no nothing."

"Get back to the motel and wait there until I can get back into town." John growled angrily as he flipped his truck around and headed back toward Flagstaff. "So help me God, Dean…do not leave that room. He might come back on his own."

"I won't dad….and dad…?" Dean waited until his father finally acknowledged his question. He knew that he'd just piss the man off further if didn't wait.

"What Dean?" He said in low dangerous voice. His rage barely contained along with an underlying current of fear for his youngest son.

"I'm sorry I fucked up here. This is my fault." Dean said quietly, his eyes stinging from the weight of his guilt and the awful thoughts pouring through his head…things that could be happening to Sammy even as they searched for him.

He heard his father pull in a loud breath of air. "Yeah Dean…you did. And we're so gonna talk about it when I get back." The phone went dead as he hung up and Dean nearly folded in on himself in anguish.

It took his nearly fifteen minutes to haul himself back into the lonely room of their shared motel. He stood in the center of the room and just looked at the bed that was 'Sam's' and his eyes started to burn again with emotion. He had finally managed to sit down on his own bed and stare at the blank tv for a while before his father stormed into the room. John was all flying fists and loud angry accusations as he tore through what little calm Dean had managed to build over the past couple of hours.

"I only gave you one job Dean…one! And you couldn't do it! What the fuck is wrong with you boy?! Are you just too stupid or is it that you're too lazy to take care of your brother properly?! He's a kid for Christ's sake…and you're telling me you couldn't keep track of a thirteen year old boy? How am I supposed to know that I can trust you on hunt when you can't even do this one simple task?!" Each vicious sentence was accentuated with a series of blows or kicks that laid Dean out cold. He wasn't sure when his father stopped…he wasn't even conscious by the end of it. His last conscious thought was that he so deserved this…he'd lost Sammy… And then nothing but blackness.

When he finally managed to claw his way back to consciousness, he was immediately assaulted with rolling waves of pain ratcheting through his body in time with his heartbeat. And that rib that 'hadn't' been broken? Well, it was definitely broken now and it had some friends too. His face was a throbbing mass as he tried to roll over and succeeded only in pissing off his injured ribs. He groaned as he bit down on his lower lip and slowly pushed himself to his knees, ignoring the pain pulsing through him. Blood had run into his right eye and he could tell that it was already swelling shut and that he'd have one hell of a shiner in addition to his aching body. 'That isn't going to be easy to explain…' He thought around the pulsing of his head. Probably a concussion too, if his rolling stomach was anything to go by.

"Don't cry about it, Dean. You earned that beating." His father said coldly from where he sat at the table, reading a paper and drinking a cup of coffee. There was absolutely no remorse in the man…he didn't care that his son was having difficulty just staying conscious.

Dean couldn't believe it…his little brother was missing and his father was sitting around like nothing was wrong. What the hell? He didn't say a word as he hauled himself into the bathroom and slowly shut the door, hoping that he wouldn't inadvertently set off his father again. He felt his knees wobble as he finally sank onto the toilet and reached for the nearest towel. One of good thing about cheap motels…small bathrooms. He was able to reach the sink and soak the towel so he could get to work cleaning himself up. He knew that the sight of what his father had done would only piss that man off further…and he didn't think that he could take another 'beating' this soon. Besides, they needed to concentrate on finding Sammy and then his father could focus on 'punishment'.

By the time they'd tracked Sam down almost two weeks later, Dean was a walking mass of healing bruises and anguished thoughts. He hadn't even had the nerve to yell at the kid…although their father hadn't had that compunction. He'd torn Sam a new one for his 'little excursion'. Sam had been so focused on his own anger at being 'called out' for his decision that he'd ignored the condition of his older brother. He'd focused on his own rage and ignored what was right in front of his face.

XXXX

Dean was still seated with his thoughts so far in the past that he didn't even hear the door when Sam returned. He did however jump when Sam gently touched his shoulder, trying to get his attention. He struck out blindly and caught Sam unguarded on the jaw with a right upper cut. Sam stumbled backwards, his hands going immediately to his jaw.

"What the hell, Dean?!" He cried as he regained his balance and stared at his brother in surprise. Sam saw the immediate remorse and guilt surge into Dean's face as he realized that he'd just clocked his brother in the face.

"Sorry…sorry Sam…" He said as he looked in Sam's general direction. He was twisting his hands and wringing them together as he shifted uncomfortably.

Sam released a long breath and then walked over to grab the bag of donuts and the coffee and set them next to his brother and carefully put the coffee in his hands. "It's fine Dean. I shouldn't have surprised you." He sank into a chair and looked at Dean as he pulled the hot liquid to his lips and drank back the bitter brew. "Hey, I uh…sorry I took so long. I followed this girl…one that I met when I left during the whole Scarecrow thing…"

Dean glanced up in his direction and waited for Sam to continue. "And…?"

"Well, Dean it's a bit of a coincidence…running into her here. I think she'd been trailing us. So I followed her to this old warehouse on the outskirts of town…and there was some really funky shit in that place. Like stuff to summon…something." He watched as Dean absorbed the information.

"Like a demon…something?" Dean asked.

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I think so Dean. Are your eyes good enough to check this out later?" He wasn't sure how much Dean was actually seeing and how much was just blurry. But he needed backup for this and Dean was it…with the loss of their father, the guilt flared at the thought of his father and he pushed it down ruthlessly.

Dean thought for only a fraction of second before he lied to Sam. "It's getting better. I think I'll be fine to check this thing out tonight. I just might not be able to take point." He added, hoping that it would placate Sam and make believe the load of crap that Dean was shoveling his way.

"Okay…I'll pull up the schematics and see if I learn a bit more about the place and then we can plan to check out what the hell this bitch is doing there." Sam said as he took a drink of his own coffee. He didn't know if Dean was being honest with him, but he hoped that he was. This really wasn't the time or the place for them to be keeping secrets, the developments with his 'psychic thing' and Dean's own destiny were playing havoc with the last remaining Winchesters. They needed to find this demon and it seemed like this girl might be a way to do that. Because, honestly Sam was tired of having this whole 'demon-blood' coming back and biting his family in the ass...and he was going to figure out how to stop it.

TBC…

Author's Note: I want to work some of the other demons into the story to flesh it out and this will be an odd combination of canon hunt and some AU style stuff. Dean's eyes are a problem…but they will heal and the boys will keep moving forward.

Please Review: They really do keep me pushing story forward and I have some cool ideas for this one.