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: So I know there's still interest

Previous Chapter:

"It…was…just fireworks…" He'd moaned out as his vision swam in and out of focus. Dean had kept his cries to a minimal, since he didn't want Sammy to hear any of this. There was a lot about this life that he couldn't protect his little brother from…this wasn't one of those things.

"I don't care if it was Independence Day 1776, you can't protect him out there Dean! When are you going to get that through your thick skull! Are you that fucking STUPID?! You're not strong enough!" John spat the last words at his eldest son as he sank back onto the bed. He looked down at the mess he'd just made of Dean. "Go clean yourself up before Sam sees you."

Dean had swallowed his self-loathing as he'd literally crawled to the bathroom, pushing the door shut once he was inside. He sank back against the wood and let the tears fall. His lower lip was clenched between his teeth to keep the sobs quiet as he tried to deal with his own perceived failures. It had been such a good day and Dean had thought that he was doing something good for his brother.

John had had Sam on lock down for weeks and the kid was going stir crazy. He hadn't understood what was happening; just that suddenly he wasn't allowed to go to the library or anywhere else that involved leaving the smelly cheap motel.

His eyelids dropped closed and the image of Sam's grinning adolescent face materialized and Dean knew that it had been worth it. The beating from his father that had come after…well, that he could handle. Sammy had been happy, at least for those few hours.

Dean's thoughts snapped back to the present and he drained the glass of whiskey, setting it back on the table. His fingers were still loosely wrapped around it and he heard the 'glug' of liquid as Sam filled the glass again. A slow smile worked its way onto his face. If it took Hell to put that smile on Sam's face again…then he would gladly do time in the hot box.

As Sam stared at Dean he wished that he could read minds. Because there was no reason on earth why his big brother should be smiling. Unless…

"No, Dean."

His brother's strange gaze lifted and he frowned. "No what?"

"You are not going to Hell…especially not for me." Sam's voice broke and he set the bottle down and drained his own glass. "I don't care what those dicks think. You're not going to Hell. They said that dad's deal was fulfilled."

Dean inhaled slowly and his expression was stoic as he looked back toward the floor. "Apparently they lie, Sammy and if it gets you into Heaven…"

"No! I swear to God Dean…I'll find a crossroads Demon and meet you in Hell myself if you try this." Sam's voice was shaking. He'd never been this serious about anything…or this scared. The look on his brother's face was almost comical as he gaped in Sam's general direction. "We will find another way! Or I promise you, we are going down together."

XXXX

Chapter 49

Deans Buried Memory

The rumble of the road beneath the tires of the Impala was generally a soothing sound. But today it felt like they were running. Today it felt like everything in their lives was crashing down around them and the only thing they could do is run. Neither of the brothers was under the impression that 'life was fair' but it was starting to feel as though they'd lost some cosmic lottery. Like their entire family was cursed or something and neither of them knew exactly why.

The car was uncharacteristically quiet, no classic rock filling up the uncomfortable silence that hung in the air like a thick fog. No talking about a potential case or where they were headed. The future felt like it was out of their control and no amount of hunting could change that.

Sam glanced over at his brother and his forehead furrowed in concern. It wasn't normal for Dean to be this quiet. Granted he'd been a bit different since Sam had hooked back up with him, but this silent version of his brother was disconcerting. He wanted to talk about what had happened at that house…he wanted to talk about the fact that angels are real. And apparently, douchebags. Most of all he wanted to talk about Dean's easy acceptance of this fucked up plan. The plan that would send his ass straight to Hell to compete for Sam's soul.

Sam didn't like owing people a dollar let alone his soul. No. Just no, there has to be another way. There had to be something that he could do to purify himself. Because allowing Dean to pick up the tab on that bill wasn't going to happen. Not while he was still breathing.

A pang of guilt and horror washed through him at the thought of the demon blood. It would seem that it had integrated with his own blood over the last twenty-two years and now he was really a freak. He cringed at the word. Sam hated that word. Always had... He'd known when they were younger that their weird family unit was 'freaky', but he hadn't thought of himself as the 'freaky one'. He pulled his lower lip between his teeth and worried the flesh between the sets of teeth as he thought.

If the guilt on Sam's side of the car was heavy, the guilt on Dean's side it was crushing. Ever since Dean had broken down and called Sam their lives had turned to absolute shit. Learning about their father's involvement had eroded an already shaky foundation to something that more resembled sand than rock. He'd known that that was a possibility. That there was a chance that by pulling his brother back into this life he was setting Sam up for something worse. But the need to have his little brother sitting on the other side of this car had been like an Anaconda…squeezing the life out of him a little at a time. He need it like he need air.

The window was rolled down and the smell of the encroaching fall weather should have been soothing. Instead it only made Dean realize that Sam had been with him for barely six months and he'd managed to ruin his little brothers life. Sunlight had to be filtering in through the window, because he could feel the warmth against his face. Dean sighed and scrubbed a hand down his face.

"You okay?" Sam asked. It was almost more out of habit than because he wanted an answer. Because how on God's little green earth could his brother be okay?

Dean couldn't see his little brother clearly. The shape that he knew represented Sam off to his left moved a little but that was it. His eyesight wasn't getting better; in fact it almost felt like it was getting worse. While he could see Sam, sorta, the shimmery light that he'd been able to define before was dimming. Any shapes other than Sam were almost impossible to make out. But hey, at least he could walk. He thought dismally.

He considered Sam's question and blinked when he realized that, 'no' he really wasn't all right. But he couldn't tell his little brother that. He had to be strong. This whole thing with the angels and the demons was jacked up six ways to Sunday and he was sick of it. For the first time in his life, Dean didn't see a way that they could win this one. Oh sure, he could take the game winning shot, save Sam and spend an eternity in Hell…that was an option. But he'd rather see if there was any other way. The idea of being tortured for the rest of his existence wasn't exactly on his bucket list.

A shudder ran through his body and he scooted down in the seat, leaning against the door. "Yeah, I'm fine." He finally said.

Sam wasn't buying what Dean was selling, not for one minute. But he couldn't make his brother talk.

"Where are we headed?" It was more of a rhetorical question than one he expected Dean to answer.

A pained breath and then. "Bobby's place." There was sadness and a touch of resignation in his brother's voice that was making Sam nervous.

"Coulda told me that before I passed the exit a hundred miles ago." Sam groused as he slowed down and flipped an illegal u-turn. "Think he can help us?" It wasn't much, but it was a thread of hope and Sam latched onto it like a lifeline.

Dean shrugged his shoulders. He had no idea if Bobby could help them…but he would know more about what they were dealing with than him and Sam. Bobby was pretty ingenious with the research…maybe there was more to this twin destiny thing than either of them knew. A thought wandered through him and he wondered if he could contact that angel…Cassie…or something. He pressed his eyelids together and tried to remember whether or not praying to a damn angel could do anything.

"I'm not sure. But if anyone can pull a Hail Mary out, it's Bobby." Dean's eye line never shifted from where he was staring blankly out the front window. Look, I don't know if you can hear me…but Castiel, if you can…please there has to be another way to save my brother. I mean I'll do it if there's not…but Sam will never accept that. He'll be either a broken shell of a person or he'll go the other route…and he'll be the scariest damn hunter you've ever seen. And angels will be at the top of his list…so please…help me. Dean shoved his eyelids open.

A sudden flutter had him furrowing his forehead in confusion. Sam slammed on the brakes and the car skidded to a screeching halt. "Hey! That's my car! What's going on Sam?"

Sam was staring at the dark haired man in the back seat with wide confused eyes. "What the hell are you doing here?" His voice sounded like the edge of a knife, sharp and cutting.

Castiel's eyes flickered to the back of Dean's head. "Dean asked for me."

Sam's gaze flashed to his brother. Dean hadn't said a word.

Dean gulped back his reaction and twisted in the seat. The white-hot light that made up the edges of Castiel's form had him covering his eyes like he'd been staring at the sun for too long. "Didn't actually think you'd show up in my backseat though…" He mumbled.

"You called for my help Dean. I may have found another way to save your brother." Both brothers sat in shocked silence as the angel stared at them with inquisitive questioning eyes. "You do not what to know what it is?"

Dean nearly chocked he started speaking so fast. "No…yes...we wanna know."

Sam's mouth dropped open several times and he swallowed hard. "What?"

"The yellow-eyed demon is at the center of Sam's twisted destiny. If you can track him and kill him then Sam should be safe." Castiel sat back and watched as his news impacted the two Winchesters differently.

The eldest saw it as a way to kill two birds with one stone…kill the thing that had started all of this and save his brother. While all Sam could see was the thing that had destroyed Dean…and taking it out. And yet each of them was focused on the same outcome. Kill the demon. But something clicked inside Dean's head and tried to grab onto the fractured memory...it drifted away almost as quickly as it came.

"I will go see about any further information." And with that the strange presence in the car was gone and Dean blinked as the back seat went black.

Sam looked over at Dean and saw a spark of the old fire there in his brother's strange blank gaze. "So we're full circle. Find the demon and kill it."

Dean's eyebrows twitched. "Looks like." The remnants of some thing he knew he should know playing at the edges of consciousness.

"Still wanna go to Bobby's?" Sam looked over his shoulder and pulled back out onto the highway. Thank God it's deserted.

"Since we don't have a clue how to actually kill a demon…yeah." His gravelly voice was strained, but there was something in his brother's face that Sam hadn't heard since he'd knocked on that door in California…hope.

XXXX

Bobby was checking the perimeter fencing when he heard the familiar rumble of John's Impala. He shook his head…Dean's Impala now. He had two different reactions, pleasure that the boys had come to see him again and fear…fear that there was something else wrong with the Winchesters. He loved those boys like his own and seeing them hurting was one of the crosses he bore with reluctant silence.

He gathered his tools and the spray cans before heading back toward the old covering where Dean always parked the car. As he rounded the corner he paused. The classic black Chevy was parked in front of his home…in the driveway. Bobby's paced quickened and then came to an abrupt halt when he saw Sam leaning against the car and helping Dean get out...of the passengers side. The eldest Winchester was standing…which meant that those two idjits had done something that they shouldn't.

Damn-it. He thought as he quickly closed the distance.

"Boys." He said simply when Sam's gaze rose to meet his and Dean's eyes fell far from the mark. "Oh geeze…what happened now?" Dean's normally forest green eyes were an almost supernatural shade of green…and they were unfocused and wandering.

Sam's eyebrows cut down in frustration with the question. He knew that they were going to get grilled, but he at least thought that they'd get into the house first. "Demons…" He watched Bobby inhaled slowly and ran his fingers through his beard. Sam continued. "…and angels."

That had him stepping closer to the brothers. "Come again?"

Dean's voice finally broke in. "You heard him, Bobby…freaking angels."

Bobby scoffed. "Ain't nobody ever seen an angel boys."

Dean straightened. "We have…two of them to be exact. Apparently they travel in pairs…like shoelaces."

Sam gaped at his brother, shook his head and then turned back to Bobby.

"What the hell happened to you Dean?" Bobby asked.

"Got my legs back…paid the bill with my eyesight." He quipped. Neither Bobby nor Sam thought it was funny.

"That isn't funny, Dean." Sam said flatly. He shifted when Dean leaned against the car, apparently settling in for a minute or two.

"Come on…it's a little bit funny." But there was no humor in Dean's voice. He wasn't enjoying this any more than Sam was.

"No. It isn't." Sam stepped to the back of the car and pulled their duffels out, setting Dean's on the hood and hooking his over his shoulder. "We could use your help."

Bobby pulled in a slow ragged breath. Just once, he'd like these two to come visit him when they weren't in a heap of horse crap. Scratch that…covered in horse shit. He turned and started toward the house. "Well come on if you're coming." He glanced over his shoulder and cringed when he saw Sam step up and carefully take Dean's elbow guiding him toward the steps. Blind…shit on a shingle…the kid is blind.

He stepped aside as Sam talked Dean through the action of going up the steps and then settled his older brother on the chair in the kitchen. It was apparent that Dean wasn't at all pleased with this reversal of roles. He hated being dependent on anyone and this was definitely crossing some sort of line in his mind. The thing with being in a wheelchair for more than a year? He'd learned how to deal with that…and as Bobby watched them struggle, he knew that neither one of them knew how to deal with this.

"So…is one of you going to explain this sudden changed in disability status or am I gonna have to play twenty questions?"

Sam groaned and pulled out the chair across from Dean and sank tiredly into it. His arms flopping to his sides and his eyes drooping. Dean must had heard the change in his brothers breathing because he broke his silence. "Can we get some coffee, Bobby? Sam's been driving all night."

"M'fine…Dean." Sam grumbled, but his slumped form was telling Bobby that he kid was lying through his teeth.

"No. You're not." Dean shot back. His blank gaze swung around the kitchen in an attempt to find Bobby. He would've tried to get the coffee himself, but Bobby's place always had crap scattered everywhere and he had a better chance of breaking his neck than he did of finding his way through safely. In short? For a blind person it was a death trap.

"I got it." Bobby said quickly as he shifted to the counter, stepping over a huge wooden box he'd just received. New texts on Greek Mythology and how the lore fits into today's hunting world.

"Thanks." Sam managed.

"Okay, so explain this whole thing to me." Bobby said as he set two steaming cups of coffee on the table. He watched with sympathy as Dean's hand slipped along the surface of the wood until it came into contact with the hot ceramic mug.

An hour later Bobby's head was reeling. If there was any truth to what the angel had told them. He shook his head…angels…who knew? Then they needed to track down the Colt. He knew that they'd supposedly gone after thing before, but so far as anyone knew…it had never surfaced. Bobby wasn't even sure that he believed in it's existence. But for the boys sake he hoped like hell that it did.

"So you need to kill this yellow-eyed demon?" He turned and grabbed the whiskey from the counter and dumped a healthy amount into his own coffee.

Dean held up his drink in a silent request for some of the whiskey he could suddenly smell. He heard the old hunter sigh and the 'glug glug glug' as he was obliged.

"Can't you just send it back to Hell?" Bobby asked as he set the bottle down.

Sam shook his head. "I don't think so. Castiel was pretty specific…kill the demon…not exorcise it."

"So what's the plan here boys?"

Dean inhaled and pushed his own concerns down. "We need to find out who had that gun last…we know it was made by Samuel Colt…but the history gets a bit wonky after that."

Sam's eyes flashed up to his brother's in surprise. There was no earthy reason that Dean should know that much about a mythical gun that no one had ever seen. His gaze was boring a hole into the center of Dean's head when his brother's strange gaze lifted to meet the general vicinity of his. "Stop staring at me, Sam…feels like you're trying to crawl inside my head."

"Wh…what?" His brother's response had pushed Sam off balance…how could Dean know that? "Wait, Dean how'd you even know I was looking at you?"

Dean shrugged. "I could feel it. Like you're trying to read my damn mind or something."

Bobby's eyebrows shot up at that. That could be useful. "Care to explain that?"

Dean huffed and cracked his back…god did that feel good… "Not really, no."

"Do it anyways, Dean." Sam answered quickly.

"Whatever dude…look I don't know...I could just feel that Sam wanted something from me. Like when someone is watching you from across the room or something." He blew an exasperated breath and started hauling himself to his feet. "I need to use the head. You two sit here and stew."

He started walking in the direction of the bathroom. Stopping when his booted toe touched something that growled at him. "Move it, Bailey." Dean knew it was Bobby's junkyard dog. The old Rottweiler picked himself up and shuffled out of Dean's way.

"Don't take out yer frustration the dog, Dean." Bobby said evenly as he watched the boy find the wall and use it as a 'guide' to the bathroom.

Dean rolled his eyes as he stepped into the small room and pushed the door shut behind him. He sank onto the closed lid of the toilet and his carefully erected facade of control fell apart. All the restraint he'd been exerting over the last two days drained away and he leaned forward, resting his head in his hands. He'd seen that damn gun once…a long time ago. And he hated the memory that erupted with the mere mention of the colt. Damn their father for creating this problem in the first place. He hadn't known that's what it was at the time…but he definitely couldn't explain to Sam how he knew the general area to go looking for that gun. His little brother would never let him go if he knew…

Secrets…Dean was getting so damn sick and tired of the Winchester family secrets. He had to come up with another lie…one that Sam would believe. Because the alternative was unthinkable...Sam would go without him.

"Castiel?" He prayed outloud.

He heard the now familiar rustle of wings. "What do you need, Dean?" The deep voice of the angel caused him to jump slightly, since it came from directly to his right.

"I need your help."

"I am already helping you." The angel said evenly.

"No…I need you to help me pull a memory out. The answer is buried in my head…I was too messed up at the time…everything's all pieces and parts." Dean swallowed and leaned back. He looked up where the bright light that was angel stood motionless.

"I do not understand what you want me to do?"

Dean's eyelids dropped closed and he inhaled slowly. This was really going to suck. "I need you to walk me through a memory so I can piece it together." He paused. "It's…nasty…and I gotta make sure Sam can't feel any of it."

"Ah…you are worried about the destiny link?"

Dean gulped down his fear. "Can you do it or not?"

Castiel looked closely at this human that he was rapidly gaining respect for and raised an eyebrow as he thought. "Yes."

"Then do it." The next sensation Dean felt was two fingers directly between his eyes and he was thrown back into his memories.

TBC…

Author's Note: Within Dean's memories lies the path to the gun and the yellow-eyed demon. I wanted there to be a stronger connection between Dean and the demon in addition to the obvious canon connected between Sam and the demon. So this is my take on that. Thank you everyone that read and reviewed the last chapter…although it wasn't as many as I'd hoped…I do appreciate DancingDugong, ncsupnatfan, mb64, babyreaper, BranchSuper, and LeeMarieJack (who wants happy endings and the boys kicking butt, I'm getting there…promise) and several 'readers' that I cannot thank properly.

If it's not too much trouble please take a minute and drop me a review or something about the chapter.

PLEASE REVIEW: thank you.