Thanks to Soar for the beta and to Soar, JuliaAurelia and Sinead-Conlan for all their help on this chapter.
Chapter 28
Disclaimer: Still don't own them.
"See you tomorrow," John's boss said to him as John punched out for the day.
"See you, Jim," John returned the greeting and walked out of the garage. He got behind the wheel of the Impala and drove toward the junior high school to pick up his youngest son.
He pulled up to the front steps and saw Sam sitting with four other boys. They were laughing and they looked relaxed and happy, so it came as no surprise to John when Sam asked if he could go over to Randy's house. They had a science project they needed to work on. John knew it was going to be a boring afternoon for Sam, waiting around the hospital for two hours while Dean met with his therapists, so he agreed to the request. Sam happily thanked his father and informed him that Randy's mother would drive him home afterwards.
John got back into the car and drove toward the high school, wondering what state of mind his eldest was going to be in. He was surprised when he got there and Dean was nowhere to be seen. Wondering if Dean had gotten held up, he pulled into the parking lot and waited.
5 minutes went by, then 10. John's worry was increasing with each passing minute. Dean knew that he had appointments at the hospital and if he was going to be late, he should have called and left a message at the garage. He waited another five minutes and then got out of the car and headed toward the nurse's office. He was informed that Dean had picked up his injection kit as he usually did. He was headed back toward the Impala when he saw a familiar face. He had seen Dean hang out with this boy on occasion, his name was Greg or Gerry or something that began with a G.
"Excuse me," John said.
"Hi, Mr. Winchester," the boy said in a friendly tone.
"Have you seen Dean?" he asked casually, trying not to show that his panic was growing.
"He got a ride with Gray," the boy said. "Is everything all right?"
"Yeah," John said with a false smile. "It's fine. We must have gotten our signals crossed."
John said goodbye and started back toward the car. His worry was quickly giving way to anger as a thought entered his mind. He had a feeling that he knew where Dean was. He pulled out his cell phone when he got back to the car and called Bobby. He couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped him when the elder hunter confirmed that his wayward son was indeed at his place.
John drove home, fuming. His first instinct had been to drive over to Bobby's and drag his son home. He still had no idea how Bobby had managed to convince him to leave Dean at his place, and let him speak to Dean first.
Pulling into the driveway, John shut off the motor and rubbed his hand over his eyes, trying to stave off the headache he could feel building in his skull. He walked into the house and took a couple of aspirin, desperately wanting a beer. He knew he couldn't have one though, because he needed to be stone cold sober to deal with his son when he got home.
How to deal with him was the question that John was helpless to answer. He knew he should be furious that Dean had ditched his appointments and had worried his father sick by disappearing. He was plenty mad at that, but it was tempered with a healthy dose of worry. He felt the same as Bobby, that right now, Dean was hanging on by his finger tips and John didn't want to be the one that stepped on them, causing Dean to lose his grip. He had never felt so helpless in his life.
He sat at the table and pulled out his wallet. He thumbed through the few bills and pulled out an old photo of himself and Mary. It was a picture of the two of them standing out in front of their house, in front of the sold sign in the yard. John had his arm around his pregnant wife. He had been so happy that day.
Mary had always been the one that could get the boys through if they were sick or hurt. What would his wife do if she were here? How would Mary get Dean through this? "Help me, Mary, please," John whispered desperately to the picture.
Of course, there was no answer. John sighed and ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. He put the picture back into his wallet and put his wallet back into his pocket. He was suddenly regretting letting Sam go to his friend's house. His youngest could get through to his brother much better than he could.
The sound of a car pulling into the driveway interrupted his thoughts. A small part of John was hoping that it was Sam, but those hopes were dashed when he looked up and saw his eldest standing in the doorway. He was on his own.
Worry often translated into anger with the eldest Winchester, and when you added in the fact that John was still angry, it wasn't surprising that the anger was what came out of John's lips and he started to berate his son, but one look into Dean's eyes stopped the anger cold. He knew he needed more time to sort things out in his head, so he made his son eat and sent him to his room.
Both Winchesters sat for an hour, John at the kitchen table, Dean on his bed, and brooded. Neither one knowing what to say to the other. John decided that he couldn't put this off anymore and he called Dean back to the kitchen. Whatever he had been about to say flew right out of his head when he saw the amulet hanging around his son's neck.
"Dean," he started. "I thought we agreed..."
"No," Dean snapped back, interrupting his father. "You ordered."
"Joh..."
"STOP!" Dean said. "You said it's my decision, and I made it," Dean said defiantly.
"What are we going to tell your doctor?"
"I don't care," Dean said firmly.
"You have to think of these things," John blurted out before he could stop himself. "We don't..."
"Okay, I get it," Dean snapped. "It's just another thing I screwed up. Could you just send me back to my room now."
Without waiting for his father to respond, Dean turned and stalked off back down the hall. John would have guessed that Bobby could have heard the door slam that followed.
John was all set to follow his son and really let him have it. He didn't tolerate insubordination. He took two steps and then stopped abruptly. Calm down, he told himself firmly. He took a deep breath and was about to head to Dean's room again, when he stopped once more, his mind replaying the short conversation that had just taken place. It wasn't what was said, it was what hadn't been said and the fact that Dean was still wearing his immobilizer. Had the amulet restored feeling, Dean would have done everything in his power to get the thing off.
Suddenly, John couldn't get to his son fast enough. You're such an idiot, he berated himself.
He opened the door and found Dean sitting on his bed. He had his legs drawn up to his chest, as much as the arm strapped to his chest would let him anyway, his good arm was wrapped around his legs and his head was down, resting on top of his legs. John closed the gap in about two strides and sat down on the bed next to his son. He still didn't know what to say, so for now, he decided not to say anything. He just opened his arms.
Dean felt the shift as his father sat on his bed and braced himself for the lecture he knew was coming. He was surprised when he didn't hear anything and he glanced up briefly. When he saw his father's open arms he didn't even hesitate. He launched himself into them and felt them wrap around him as tight as they could go.
"We have to talk," John said gently to his son. Please Mary, help me find the right words.
"Dad, about earlier, please, I'm sorry," Dean said, all but begging.
"It's okay, son. I should have noticed," John said softly as he reached up and lightly stroked his son's short spikes.
"Dad..."
"No, son. I'm sorry. I should have dealt with this when it happened. I won't even pretend to understand how you're feeling, Dean. I just want you to know that I'm here if you need to talk."
"I don't," Dean mumbled into his father's chest, he couldn't look at his father.
"If you don't want to talk to me, maybe a counsellor would help," John half suggested, half threatened.
Dean's head snapped up at that and he glared at his father. "No," he said firmly. I'm fi..."
"You're not, Dean," John insisted. "Anyone would have trouble dealing with this, and you do have to deal with it, son. You can't pretend the problem doesn't exist."
"Pretend," Dean huffed. "Who's pretending? They were gonna kick me out of shop class, dad. Did you know that? Did you know I have to ask for help on the simplest things? I can't do anything. How the hell am I pretending? It won't let me," he finished, his tone getting angrier.
This was what John had been hoping for. Dean needed to get this out. "What do you call skipping your appointments?" John asked, bating his son.
"It's a waste of time," Dean protested. "It's not gonna change anything."
"Do you know that for sure, Dean?"
"My am doesn't move," Dean yelled.
"We don't know the future," John countered.
"THE AMULET DIDN'T WORK!" Dean protested again, confirming what John had suspected earlier.
"We don't know that yet, Dean. Bobby couldn't tell us how it would affect your injury. It may just need more time..."
"Time?" Dean said. "Time for what? How much time would it take for a spirit or bad guy to get to you and Sammy while I stand there, useless. How much time does it take me to get dressed or perform the simplest tasks? You tell me to give it time? I can't," Dean said, his tone growing frantic.
"We'll figure this out, Dean," John promised.
"I don't want to," Dean said, his voice starting to waver. "I just want my arm back," he said softly.
John could feel Dean grow still, as if all the fight had left him, and that scared John more than anything. He once again wrapped Dean in a cocoon as tightly as he could. "I've got you, buddy," John said gently. "It's time to let it go."
Dean wanted to run. He wasn't a baby, but he couldn't help it. Everything he had buried, his feeling about his diabetes, his humiliation over being called names at school, his worry about not being able to protect his family because of his injury, his guilt over wanting to pursue his dreams, all bubbled over. Right now, he wasn't the confident hunter and protector. He was what he appeared to be, a scared teenager facing an uncertain future. His father's offer to 'let it go' was more than he could bear, and he snuggled deeper into his father's arms as the floodgates opened.
--
It was a good half hour before Dean's sobs finally abated and John felt him grow still once more. He looked down and saw that Dean was sound asleep.
No sooner had he gently extracted himself, trying not to disturb Dean, than John heard the front door bang.
"I'm home," Sam called out. "What's for dinner? I'm starving."
John looked down as he saw Dean twitch at the sound of Sam's voice. John quickly draped a sheet over Dean's sleeping form and walked out the door, softly shutting it behind him.
"Sammy," John called to his youngest son. "Keep your voice down. Dean's sleeping."
Sam was by John's side in an instant. "Is Dean okay? He's not sick again, is he?" he asked frantically.
John reached out and hugged his boy. "No, he's just exhausted. We need to let him sleep. Come on, let's order a pizza and I'll fill you in."
--
"So he still can't move his arm?" Sam asked his father.
"No," John admitted with a sigh. He decided to leave out Dean's breakdown. He knew that Dean would be embarrassed if Sam knew about it.
"How was he?"
"About the same," John said vaguely.
Which Sam didn't buy for a second. He had a feeling that he knew what had happened, but didn't say it out loud. "We'll get him through it, dad."
"I hope so," John mumbled under his breath.
"Remember when Dean found out he couldn't hunt? You did pretty good with getting him through that," Sam encouraged.
John gave a small smile and reached out and ruffled his son's hair. "Thanks, kiddo," John said. "That was easy, though. We knew it wasn't permanent."
"We still don't know that this is either, dad," Sam said refusing to give up hope. "We don't know the full extent of the amulet's power. Did it work immediately on Dean's diabetes?"
"I..." John started and stopped. He didn't know. John had forgotten all about it in his quest to try and get his eldest though his latest crisis.
"Did you even test his blood sugar?" Sam asked, as if he were reading his father's thoughts.
"No," John admitted. He looked down the hall toward the boys' room. He really didn't want to wake his son up and pricking Dean's finger when he was sound asleep was not an option either. John didn't want Dean's knife buried in his chest.
"He should be okay. Bobby said that the amulet would control his blood sugar," John said confidently. Bobby was one of a handful of people John trusted unconditionally. "Anyway let's talk about something else." John wanted to change the subject. "Your 13th is going to be here soon. Is there anything you want to do?"
Sam had almost forgotten it was coming up in his worry over his brother. He wanted to have a party with all his friends like Dean had done, but with everything that was going on, he was unsure if he should. Plus, he was feeling guilty about wanting to have a party when his brother was struggling. "Can I have a party with my friends like Dean did?" Sam asked tentatively.
"Sure, kiddo," John said with a smile. "Bobby's already started painting over that devil's trap."
"Why did he put it back?" Sam asked.
"I have no idea. Guess he wasn't thinking. He's grumbling about it already."
Sam gave a small chuckle. "Can I go start calling my friends?" Sam asked excitedly.
"Sure," John said. "Oh, Sammy," he called to his youngest's retreating back. "I know what's going through that head of yours. You don't have to feel guilty about looking forward to your birthday. Your brother wouldn't want that."
"Thanks dad," Sam said as he headed toward the phone.
--
Dean groggily came back to wakefulness. He struggled to sit up, and the events of the last few hours came rushing back to him, and Dean seriously contemplated staying in his room and never showing his face again. He was embarrassed at the way he had lost control, but the smell of pizza coming from down the hall was really making that decision difficult, especially after his stomach started growling.
He got up, opened the door and went to the bathroom. As he was splashing water on his face, his syringe box caught his eye. He quickly glanced at his watch and realized that his injection was an hour overdue. My blood sugar must be... Dean's thoughts stopped abruptly as he caught sight of the amulet hanging around his neck. Curiousity getting the better of him, Dean picked up his lancets and managed to awkwardly load it. Screw it, he thought. He put the tip against his left hand and pushed the plunger. He put some blood on a test strip and inserted it into his meter. Normal. For the first time in days, a true smile graced Dean's lips.
He grabbed his meter as he headed out to the kitchen for dinner because he knew his father was going to ask.
"Hey Dean," Sam said as his brother entered the kitchen.
"Hey Sammy," Dean said as he took his seat.
"Hungry?" John asked as he placed a slice of pizza in front of his eldest, along with a glass of milk.
"Starving," Dean confirmed as he reached for his pizza.
"Dean, did you check your..."
"Yes, dad," Dean said and held up his meter. "Normal."
John smiled. "That's great, son," he said genuinely as his eyes drifted to the arm that was still bound at Dean's side, and as much as he wanted to ignore it, he couldn't. "That being said, we still need to talk."
Dean's appetite suddenly vanished, his gaze unconsciously drifting toward his arm.
"We have to find a reason to explain why you no longer need to take an injection at school."
"I'm sor..."
"Dean, it's okay." John confirmed. "I don't like it, but I can't think of any other way, so I'm going to keep you home from school tomorrow and say that you have a doctor's appointment, then we'll get Bobby to forge a note from your doctor that explains changes in your injection schedule. You're still going to have to report to the nurse's station for blood sugar checks, and stick to your diet when you're in the cafeteria or out with friends. No exceptions, understand, Jonathan Dean?"
"Yes, sir," Dean agreed.
"Now, as much as I know this is rough for you, you're still going to be punished. You ditched two appointments, failed to tell me your whereabouts and showed poor judgement. That equals 12 days grounding."
"Yes, sir," Dean mumbled.
"For the first three days, it means no TV, phone, or friends. You're to go to school, come home and work on school work," John said firmly. He had debated this part of the punishment. He didn't want Dean isolating himself over his injury, but he knew how far behind Dean was in his school work. On day four, if you behave, I'll lift the phone restriction."
"What about TV?" Dean asked hopefully.
"Full 12," John said putting his foot down. "And you're going to therapy."
But..." Dean instantly protested.
"I know you don't think it will do any good, but your doctors think it's necessary, so you're going."
Dean knew it would be pointless to protest. He just wrapped his good arm around his bad arm. "Can I go back to my room?" he mumbled.
John was all set to refuse when he heard Sam speak.
"Dean, can you help me with my science homework?" Sam suddenly asked. "We started a physics unit and it went completely over my head."
Dean could never refuse his brother anything. "Sure, Sammy."
John smiled at his youngest.
--
The boys worked on their homework for the rest of the evening. Dean kept trying to escape, but John wouldn't let him.
He was still a little nervous about Dean not taking his meds and he wanted to keep watch for a little while longer, so he sat in the living room, flipping through the channels on their old TV set. There wasn't much on and as luck would have it, John came across an old movie called Promised a Miracle. It was about the parents of a diabetic child. In the movie, the parents were very religious and took their son to a faith healer. Convinced the faith healer had cured their son, they threw away his insulin. The boy died three days later.
When was Dean's last injection? He'd had it at school, but John knew he hadn't any since then. Was the amulet really working, or was Dean's reading at dinner time a fluke? John wanted to grab a syringe and go inject his son with it, but if the amulet was working, it could cause Dean to have another seizure. It was extremely dangerous for a non-diabetic to take insulin. But he could make Dean test his blood sugar.
Without even thinking, John went to the bathroom and grabbed his son's supplies and marched into the boys' room. He flipped the light on and thanked his lucky stars that he didn't end up with a knife in his chest. His arm may have been bound to his side, but it didn't slow Dean's reaction time by much, getting easily to the knife he kept under his pillow. Sam, knowing that he was protected by his big brother, sleepily woke up and rubbed his eyes.
"What's wrong, dad?" Sam questioned.
"Dean, give me your hand," John said not bothering to explain himself.
"What's going on?" Dean repeated Sam's concerns.
"I need to check your blood sugar," John ordered.
"But the amulet..."
"Humor me," John interrupted and once again motioned for Dean's hand.
Giving a long suffering sigh, Dean put his knife back under his pillow. He held his unbound arm up and allowed his father to stick his finger. He took a small amount of pleasure when his reading showed it was fine. "Normal, happy?" Dean said.
"Dean, attitude," John cautioned.
"Sorry," Dean mumbled.
John suddenly felt stupid. The amulet did indeed seem to be working. "Go back to sleep," he said as he turned the light out on the way out the door, as and he heard his son mumble to his brother, "Paranoid much."
--
The next morning, John called the boys. He knew that missing another day of school was the last thing Dean needed, but John couldn't think of another way to pull this off, short of taking the amulet from his son and he wouldn't do that.
Shortly after, he saw his youngest join him for breakfast.
"Where's your brother?" John asked.
"He's still in bed," Sam answered. "I thought he wasn't going to school today?"
"He's not, but he's not laying around in bed all day, either," John said. "Dean," he called again. "Move it. I want your butt out of bed and dressed before me and your brother leave, or I'm adding another day to your grounding." John turned back to Sam. "How was he last night?" John asked.
"He seemed to sleep okay. He's gonna be okay, right dad?" Sam asked.
"I wish I could promise you everything's going to work out, Sammy, but I can't," John said regretfully. "We just have to take one day at a time and as hard as it is, we have to stop treating Dean with kid gloves."
"I'll try," Sam said.
"We have to stop tap dancing around his injury. If we're ignoring it, he's going to."
"Are you sure it's wise leaving him here today?" Sam asked.
"Trust your old man, kiddo. I got a plan."
Dean appeared in the kitchen shortly afterward. John handed him a plate of scrambled eggs and toast.
"After you're done eating, Sam will help you remove your immobilizer so you can get your uniform on," John said to Dean.
"I thought..."
"You're not going to school, but you're going to pretend you are. I want you in uniform, with your school books out here at the table. You're to follow your schedule," John insisted. He knew if he left Dean to his own devices, he'd spend the whole day on his stronger subjects. He also wanted Dean in his uniform because he wanted Dean to know he was serious, plus it wasn't comfortable laying around in a suit and tie. "I want your chores done as well. You can do them in place of your auto shop class."
"How..."
"Improvise," was all the advice John gave.
--
Dean watched his father walk out the door. His anger was simmering just below the surface. He was tempted to blow off his father's instructions, but he really had nothing else to do. He was sure his father was going to check his homework when he got home and his father would just know if spent the day watching TV, of that Dean had no doubt. So he did what was told. His father hadn't banned his music and even though he wasn't allowed to, he listened to it while he worked.
The day passed steadily, and Dean looked at the clock and saw that it normally would have been time for his second last class of the day. He would have had gym, so he decided it was a good time to start his chores, as it was going to take him forever. His chores, this week, consisted of laundry and sweeping out all the rooms. He was just glad that there were no carpets as he really hated vacuuming.
He decided to start with laundry. That he could do, or so he thought. His first attempt at picking up the basket ended with him dropping it and spilling the clothes on the floor. He sighed in frustration and debated giving up. Then the stubborn Winchester pride kicked in. Dean thought for a moment. He needed all the laundry in one place to make it easier. He went to his father's room and got his basket of dirty clothes out of the closet. Remembering what had happened before, he just dragged it to his and Sam's room. He realized quickly that dragging three baskets of clothes was going to take awhile. What he needed was something to put all the clothes in.
A bag would work as it would be easier for him to carry. Alright, one problem solved, he thought. Now he had to figure out how to hold the bag open when he stuffed the dirty clothes inside. An idea came to him and he then went to the kitchen and grabbed a couple of garbage bags from under the sink, and some thumbtacks out of the drawer. He walked back to his room and pressed one of the garbage bags against the wall with his knee and then took one of the thumbtacks and tacked one side of the bag to the wall, leaving the other hanging open. He did the same thing with the other bag. He then sorted all the light clothes into one bag and the dark in the other.
Giving a small smile of satisfaction when he had all the clothes sorted, he pulled the thumbtacks out of the wall and put them on his night stand, and grabbed the bag of dark clothes. He walked over to the washer, set the bag on the floor, opened the lid and put the clothes in the machine. He turned it on and added the soap. Dean's smile grew when he shut the lid and headed toward the kitchen.
He returned to the kitchen and got the broom. This was going to be a bit more complicated. He tried to push it with his hand, put he found it awkward. He finally put the broom under his arm and wrapped his forearm around the handle. He found he had a little more control that way. It was slow going, but he was managing to get it done. When he was done, he grabbed the dustpan, put his foot behind it for traction and swept the dirt pile in it. Most of it missed the first time, but Dean kept at it until the kitchen was finished. He was working on the living room when he heard the washer shut off.
Dean laid the broom against the wall and went to the washing machine. He painstakingly moved the items into the dryer and went back to the bedroom and grabbed the second bag of light clothes. He put those in the washer and went back to sweeping. By the time the dryer buzzed, he had the living room swept. Knowing he needed to get the second load into the dryer, if he was going to have things done before his father got home, he decided he'd finish the living room after he got the clothes put away.
He set up his garbage bag again and got the clothes out of the dryer, then he transferred the wet laundry from the washer to the dryer, grabbed the bag of clean clothes and headed toward his bedroom.
He dumped everything out on his bed, and put all of Sam's clothes on his. He put his father's in the empty basket and dragged it back to his father's room. He congratulated himself on his garbage bag idea, as he realized it was so much easier, and his confidence took another step forward.
Then, when he looked at the clothes sitting in the basket on the floor by his father's bed, it took two steps back. How did you fold clothes one handed? How was he going to put it away? He refused to give up, though, he had come this far and he was determined to finish it.
He took the clothes out of basket and put everything on the bed. Dean went to the closet and grabbed a hanger. He took his father's shirt and laid it flat on the bed, then took the hanger and pulled the sides around it. He fumbled to get the top button done up so that it wouldn't slip off and picked up the hanger and stuck it back in the closet.
He finished the shirts and moved on to the pants. He laid them flat and folded them over, and just ran the hanger underneath and when he picked it up, they fell over the hanger. Dean's smile returned.
He was almost finished with his father's clothes when he heard the rumble of the Impala in the drive way.
--
John honestly wasn't sure what he'd find when he pulled into the driveway of the house. He was pleasantly surprised to hear the dryer going, but he did notice that the front hallway still wasn't swept.
"Dean," he called as he stepped into the house.
"In here," Dean called from down the hall. He was frantically trying to finish putting his father's clothes away. His father had told him to make sure his chores were done. He only had one room swept, and there was a dirt pile in another, and clothes were all over three beds. If anything, it looked worse than before. Great, his father was going to be so disappointed in him. The brief sense of pride and accomplishment that had been building slipped away again, as Dean looked up and saw his father standing in the bedroom doorway.
"Dad, I..."
John held his hand up. He had seen that the kitchen was done, and he had seen the dirt pile in the living room and this indicated to John that Dean had tried, and that's all he had been hoping for. He'd actually gotten more done than John had thought he would. He walked over to Dean and again pulled him into a big hug.
"I knew you could do it," John praised.
"But I..."
"You tried, Dean. That's all I wanted," he said voicing his thoughts, and making sure the pride came through. "Come on, let's get the rest of this put away," he said and picked up one of his t-shirts and started folding it, just as the dryer buzzed.
Dean showed his father his garbage bag system and once again earned his father's praise. John also felt lighter than he had in weeks when he was rewarded with one of Dean's grins, a true smile that reached his eyes.
Soon, father and son had everything put away, and John reminded Dean that it was time for his appointments.
Dean didn't say anything, he just did what his father asked and followed him out the door.
--
"Dean," John addressed his eldest when they pulled up at the hospital. "To let you know how proud of you I am, I'm taking the phone restriction off your punishment early. You've earned it."
"Thanks dad," Dean said gratefully.
Dean followed his father to the physical therapy clinic, where he spent the next 45 minutes, sitting there as the physical therapist moved his arm in a series of range of motion exercises. He got a lecture about skipping his appointment and the damage he could do to himself if he allowed his arm muscles to atrophy, so his mood wasn't the greatest when he went down the hall to meet with the occupational therapist, a woman by the name of Rose Brooks. Despite his feelings, though, Dean found her to be a really nice woman.
She started by asking him how he was doing with things. Dean surprised himself by opening up to her. Telling her how frustrating it was having to rely on others to do things he had always done for himself. She asked him how he currently did things, and Dean told her about his makeshift laundry baskets.
"Good idea," she encouraged.
"It took forever though," Dean complained.
"You'll get faster at things," Rose promised.
The session continued with Rose giving Dean some tips and tricks to help him along, and she encouraged him to have his dad and his brother join him for the next session.
Dean was actually in a good mood for once when they left the hospital. He still didn't like it, but he no longer felt so helpless.
--
Gray headed toward his locker keeping an eye out for his friend. Sam had told him that Dean had to go see his endocrinologist because he was having problems with hypos. Gray had tried to call him last night, but had been informed by Dean's father that his son was not allowed to come to the phone, as he was being punished for skipping his appointments. Gray apologized for taking Dean to Bobby's, but John told him not to worry about it. Dean had made his own decisions, and reassured the young man that Dean would be fine.
"Hey," he heard a voice greet him.
Gray looked up and saw Dean walking up to his locker. "Hey, man. How'd your appointment go?"
"It was fine," Dean said trying to give as little information as possible. "Doc changed my insulin schedule. I'm down to three injections a day." He really hated lying to Gray, as it had almost cost him Gray's friendship the first time, but there was no way around it.
"That's good," Gray said, but a part of him was sceptical. He didn't know why, but something didn't sound quite right about that. He wasn't a doctor yet, so he let it go. Dean wouldn't lie to him about something like that.
The two boys headed down the hallways towards math. After class, Mr. Jeter called Dean back once again. He had some more brochures on forensics programs that he wanted to give to Dean. Dean really wished he would leave well enough alone. He was confused enough as it is.
Dean had been dreading returning school, due to what had happened with Ben, but for once, luck was on his side. Westcott had won the high school football championship for the first time in 6 years and the whole school was pumped, and in the ensuing celebrations, Dean was quickly forgotten, for which the young hunter was grateful, so the school day passed quickly enough, as did his appointments.
John had to work late, so Gray drove Dean and Sam to the hospital. Sam had agreed to whole heartedly participate in Dean's therapy sessions and Rose was really impressed with how well the boys worked together.
--
Things went smoother for the rest of the week, but, of course, it wasn't perfect. Dean had good days and bad days, and on his bad days, he was extremely moody, going from upbeat, to angry, to depressed when he had setbacks, often in the space of one conversation. On his bad days, even Bobby found his patience growing thin with John's eldest.
Dean found out what Bobby had been talking about in regard to his amulet. His first check-up with Dr. Conlan had been tense, but luckily all that happened was Dean getting a 'good job' from the doctor for controlling his blood sugar so well. Dean had made up several fake entries for his diary.
He was grateful that the nurse accepted his "doctor's note" without questioning it, but it was extremely tough when he was out with his friends, as he sat watching them order chocolate cheesecake with their lunch and he was stuck with either no dessert, or some fruit cocktail. It had been hard when he knew breaking his diet would put him in the hospital, but it was even harder when he knew he could have it. He knew he couldn't afford to draw the attention to himself, though.
John was glad when Sam's 13th birthday rolled around as they could all use the distraction they could get. Bobby's place had once again served as the gathering place, as it was bigger than John's. The devil's trap was once again painted over.
Everyone Sam had invited had showed up. The youngest Winchester had even been a little surprised that Gray had shown up. Sam had sent him an invitation and had two reasons for doing so. One, he genuinely liked Gray and two, he knew his brother would appreciate having someone his own age to talk to.
The party went off without a hitch, with everyone, even Dean, having a good time. Like at Dean's party, there was a small family celebration afterwards. This time, John came right out and asked Gray to stay. Somehow, it didn't seem right not to.
"Thanks for everything, dad, Bobby," Sam said to them after the last guest had left. "This was the best birthday ever."
"You're welcome, kiddo," John said as he ruffled his son's hair. It was good to see him happy, but God help him, his youngest was now a teenager.
"Glad you had a good time," Bobby echoed. "Now, go sit in the living room and your daddy and I have a few more presents for you."
"But you didn't..." Sam started. He didn't finish. He just did as he was told when he saw Bobby's hand pointing toward the couch. Sam went over and took a seat next to his brother.
"I'll go first," Gray said. "Here." He handed Sam a new silver chain, similar to the one he had given Dean. "You can use it when your dad gives you your ring. In case it doesn't fit," Gray explained.
"Thanks," Sam said sincerely. He couldn't wait to see his ring to find out what his father had inscribed on it.
"My turn," Bobby said and he gave Sam a journal, similar to the one John kept.
"Here, Sammy," Dean said as he handed his brother his gift. "I swear, I bought it months ago."
Sam opened it and found himself staring at a keepsake box, identical right down to the inscription, to the one that he had given his brother. "Thanks, Dean. Great minds think alike."
John's gift didn't surprise Sam. It was a hunting knife, inscribed with his initials, identical to the one that his dad and brother carried. John hastily explained to Gray that he and the boys liked to go camping over the summer.
Both boys tried to hide grimaces. Their "camping trips" were anything but fun.
Sam did appreciate his father's gesture though, and he gave his dad a big smile and thank you, hoping it appeared genuine. He did not share the same passion for hunting that his father and brother did. He went to put his knife in his keepsake box when he realized that there was something else in the bag. He picked it up and found himself staring at a bus pass.
"Now you can get yourself to all you activities and friends' places. I don't have time to be driving you everywhere. Just make sure I know where you are at all times."
A true smile lit up Sam's face. It wasn't the pass, it was a small gift. What warmed Sam's heart was the meaning behind it. His father was letting him go somewhere by himself. It meant that his father trusted him. He hugged his dad making it look like, to Gray at least, that Sam was really excited over his knife.
After the gifts, it was time to clean up. Birthday boy or not, everyone was expected to pitch in. Sam, Dean and Gray were rough housing and fooling around a bit as they got to work. John and Bobby turned a blind eye and a deaf ear, as it was good to see the boys happy, that is until they heard a loud voice cry, "Ow! Hey Sammy, watch it."
John and Bobby ran for the living room and were about to ask what had happened, when they realized that the cry had come from Dean, who was standing there rubbing his left arm. Gray and Sam noticed it as well.
Dean flushed as he realized that everyone in the room was staring at him. He wished they'd cut it out. Sam had accidently hit him with the broom, it wasn't that big a deal.
"Dean," was all Sam said and nodded his head.
Dean looked down to see what Sam was talking about and that's when he realized that he was rubbing his left arm, where he had felt Sam smack him. His left arm where he felt Sam smack him.
"Dad," Dean said looking to his father for guidance.
John went to his son. "Can you feel this?" he asked as he squeezed it lightly.
"Faintly," Dean said honestly, unable to keep the smile off his face.
--
John took Dean to the doctor the next day. The doctor arranged for a cat scan and confirmed to the Winchesters that the nerves in Dean's shoulder were indeed starting to heal.
"You must be a fast healer," Dr. Jensen confirmed. "I would have sworn that we were looking at months before you started making progress."
John confirmed the doctor's words that his son was a fighter, but all the time wondering. Was it natural or did the amulet hanging around Dean's neck have something to do with it?
The next day, John took Sam, Dean and Bobby out to celebrate. Dean debated asking Gray as he would have to stick to the diabetic diet if he was with them. In the end, though, they swung by his house to pick him up. Gray had been by his side throughout the whole ordeal, and Dean didn't feel right celebrating without his best friend.
It was another two weeks before Dean was allowed to remove the immobilizer, and a full month before he got back full mobility. He wanted to salt and burn the damn thing, but John wouldn't let him. He said it could come in handy and added it to the first aid kit. He still didn't know if it was the amulet or not, and the only way to find out would be to take it off, and Dean had no intention of doing that.
--
May went by smoothly, with Dean improving every day. When he finally got the immobilizer off, John came to him and told him that Caleb needed his help with a poltergeist and that he needed Dean to watch his brother. Dean wanted to go, but John did not want him missing more school.
The trip seemed to spark the hunting bug in John Winchester, because he started actively seeking out a hunt for the next weekend and he missed work on Monday.
Shortly afterward, John was called to his boss' office for missing time. His boss was sympathetic when his son was hurt or sick, but right now, there was no reason for him to be missing work.
The next week, John ended up with an official warning for missing time, when he missed three days, and didn't even call in.
Dean found more and more the household responsibilities falling on his shoulders. When Sam asked to go somewhere, Dean didn't have the heart to say no. He knew what was happening and wanted Sam to enjoy his normal life for however long it lasted, especially with the end of the school year rapidly approaching.
--
Exams came and went, both boys doing well and finally the last day of school was upon them.
There were no classes, just home room where each boy received his report card. Sam's, of course, was straight As. Dean was pleased with his own results, he had received As in math, physics, shop, gym and Latin, B's in social studies and history, and a C in English.
Afterwards, the whole school went to Westcott Hall for the closing day assembly, where Dr. Dick would give his closing remarks on the school year and awards would be handed out. Parents were invited, and when Dean arrived, he searched over in the parents section. He was disappointed, but not surprised when he didn't see his father. Dean saw Gray do the same thing. He really felt for his friend. At least Dean had Bobby in the audience, Gray had no one.
Gray shrugged it off and said he was used to it, but Dean could tell that it still hurt his friend.
--
Bobby Singer sat in the audience wanting to kill John Winchester. He had promised to be here today and he was nowhere to be found. How could he do this to his sons?
He didn't have time to let the anger fester, though, as the awards started. He couldn't have been more proud of the boys, even if they had been his own sons. Sam won a total of four academic elite awards. Two were team awards, as Westcott's junior team had placed first in both the general category and the overall school championship. The other two were individual awards, he had the highest total points of anyone on the team and he came third in the overall standings.
Sam also won 3 more academic awards for placing first in his class overall, first in his class in history, and for having won the most debates in his class.
Dean also did pretty good. He won a team academic elite award as the math team had won the overall school championship, and two academic awards for finishing first in his math and physics classes. Gray finished first in his class, and Bobby cheered just as loud for him as he did for John's boys when he received that, as well as numerous others.
The boys hung around afterward for a while, talking to friends and teachers.
Bobby took them, and Gray to lunch to celebrate and then drove Sam and Dean home. Sam sat next to his brother thinking of all the things he and his friends had planned for the summer. Plus, Charlie had told him that he was going to be teaching a couple more classes and he really hoped that Sam would be in his class next year as well. His debating teacher told Sam to think about trying out for the debate team next year, and Mr. Jeter told him that his spot on the academic team was all but guaranteed next year.
Dean's thoughts were centered on the fact that even though his father had given him the Impala, his father still seemed to make it his primary car. He looked over at his little brother and he really didn't didn't have the heart to burst Sam's bubble as he listened to his brother chat about the summer. He knew they wouldn't be here in the fall He knew that Sam saw it as well, but was ignoring it
Neither one could ignore it any longer when they pulled into the driveway and saw the for rent sign in the front window of their house.
TBC
There should be one more chapter to wrap things up after this. Please remember to make my day and leave a review on the way out.
