Chapter 49a reviewer asked for a specific scene, so it's in here. See how nice I treat you?

Sam sat next to his big brother in the ER waiting room. Dean dozed lightly, jumping awake occasionally to peer through the room with bleary eyes.

"Any word?" Dean asked, rubbing a hand over his weary face.

"Not yet," Sam sighed. "Did you sleep at all last night?"

Dean snorted, shaking his head. "Yeah, right." He stood up to stretch. "Coffee? I'm buying."

Sam nodded, his eyes straying back to the door the doctor should come through. A few minutes later Dean returned with two steaming styrofoam cups. He handed one over. Sam sipped at it experimentally. It was straight black.

"Thanks," he said as Dean sat beside him.

Dean's cell went off. He glanced at the clock on the wall. "Damn, must be Frankie. We've been here all night."

He pulled out his cell. "Yeah? … No, nothing yet. … Nah, I'll let you know if we need Lisa." Dean rolled his eyes at Sam. "I will, I promise. … Me too, Baby. Bye." He shoved his phone in the breast pocket of his shirt.

"How're things at the house?" Sam asked.

"Fine." Dean ran a hand over his head. "I'll bet Serene is freaked, though."

Sam sighed as he stretched out his long legs. "Probably. She's been great about all this, though."

"A real trooper," Dean agreed. His eyes cut to the side to look at Sam. "You should marry that girl before she comes to her senses."

Sam raked his fingers through his hair. "I don't know, Dean. It doesn't seem fair to Serene."

"Fair?" Dean asked. He didn't sound angry, just curious and confused. "What do you mean, fair?"

Sam shrugged and motioned around them. "She never asked for this life, Dean. How is it fair to thrust it on her like this?"

Both of Dean's eyebrows rose. "And was it fair for us to grow up with it?" he asked softly.

It might have been the first time Sam had heard his brother utter a disparaging remark about their childhood.

"Life isn't fair, Sammy," Dean continued. "The trick isn't to figure out what's fair, the trick is figuring out how to be happy anyway. Besides," he sighed, "if you don't ask her soon I'm afraid she's going to kick your ass."

Sam bumped his brother's shoulder. "I didn't know you liked her that much."

Dean grinned and shrugged. "If you're happy, I'm happy. And Sam, I got news for you: you're happy."

Sam returned his brother's infectious grin. "Yeah, I guess I am." He chuckled as a new thought occurred to him. "But you want to hear something funny?"

"Sure." Dean shrugged and sipped at his coffee.

"If Jess had ever met Serene, she would've hated her," Sam whispered with a grin.

Dean chuckled, shoving Sam lightly in the arm. "Serene can be an acquired taste."

"Winchester?" A voice boomed through the waiting area. Sam jumped to his feet beside his brother.

The doctor looked familiar, but Sam couldn't place him.

"Hi, Dean," the man said, shaking Dean's hand. "I'm sorry to see you again under these circumstances. You must be Sam." The doctor shook his hand as well.

"How's our dad?" Dean asked, his voice laced with anxiety.

The doctor sighed, looking each of them in the eye in turn. "Well, it isn't good. We managed to stop the internal hemorrhaging, but some of his organs have been bruised. He looks more like he's been in a severe wreck than the victim of an attack." He shrugged. "I'm afraid only time will tell for sure. He's in good health, strong, so I'd say he has a good chance."

Sam grabbed the doctor's arm before he could turn away. "What are the odds, doctor?" He heard the shake in his own voice when he spoke.

The doctor glanced away before replying, "Well, for the average person, I'd put the odds for his survival around twenty-five percent. But considering this is Dean's father and the fact he's stable, I'm going to have to say it's closer to fifty percent."

Not exactly the words of comfort Sam was hoping for, but the grin on Dean's face allayed his worst fears.

"So can we see him?" Dean asked.

"Sure," the doctor said. "He's in ICU. You can both go in for a few minutes, then we'll have to ask you to leave."

"Thanks, doc," Dean said, squaring his shoulders.

Sam followed closely, trying to prepare himself for the worst but unable to actually do it. The thought of Dad not making it, not pulling through, was inconceivable. Dad had to be all right. He had to be.

There weren't any solid walls in ICU, they were all glass. Dad's eyes were closed when they walked in but he looked normal, like he was sleeping. Sam really expected Dad's eyes to open the instant they stood beside him.

"Hey, Dad," Dean said softly as he picked up one of Dad's hands. "You know what this reminds me of? Remember the ghost that threw you through a window? You had a concussion for a week." He chuckled. "And you think I'm a pain in the ass with a concussion."

Sam stood aside, feeling left out, until Dean jerked his head. With a hard swallow, Sam dragged his feet closer to the bed. He pressed his hand inside Dad's, relieved by how warm it was.

"Wake up, Dad," Sam pleaded. "You just have to wake up and everything will be fine." He felt his eyes water when Dad did not move, did not respond. "Come on, Dad."

Sam felt himself pulled away and forced out of the ICU. Dean pushed him out into the waiting area.

"It's okay, Sam," Dean was saying, his voice so reassuring and strong. Sam leaned into his brother's grip, wanting him to make it all better. "We'll come back during visiting hours. If there's any change, they'll call us."

Sam nodded. He felt like he was in a daze as Dean led him outside and put him in the car. He did not even notice which car they were in and their surroundings flashed by unseen.

"Come on, Sam," Dean said gently, pulling him from the car. Again Sam followed docilely, unable to think for himself. When they stepped through the door, he was attacked by something soft that smelled good. He wrapped his arms around Serene and held her tight. They stood there for a long time, just holding on.


"Is he okay?" Frank whispered, handing Liza to Dean.

Dean held her close, breathing in her sweet baby smell. "No," he finally said. "But I'm sure Serene can take care of Sam." He leaned heavily against Frank's broad chest. Two strong arms enveloped him and Liza. Dean closed his eyes and breathed in Frank's heady musky scent. All they could do now was wait.


Frank laid sleeping Liza in her crib. He had wondered if he would need a crowbar to extract her from Dean's arms tonight. Almost. Liza's body relaxed as she stretched out in her sleep, making Frank smile. Damn, she was cute. He started to pull the curtain around her crib, but Frank just couldn't bear the thought of Liza being out of sight. He shoved the curtain further back.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked in a tired, world weary voice.

Frank shrugged as he turned around. "Coming to take care of you."

Dean sat on the edge of the bed, his head hanging down. Now his head lifted until Frank could see his eyes. "What?"

Frank pushed his spouse gently to the bed. He removed Dean's boots, lifting each of his legs on to the bed. Once he had Dean situated, Frank crawled on to the bed beside him. Dean acted so complacent, allowing Frank to gather him up and hold him close. With Dean's head resting on his shoulder, Frank allowed himself to feel the relief which had been threatening since last night over the demon's failed attempt. Of course, their victory had been tainted by John's injuries and Frank felt guilty over just how relieved he was.

Dean's head rubbed against his shoulder. Frank looked down into eyes which looked so lost and hurt.

"What?" Frank asked, bringing a hand up to stroke Dean's cheek. "What is it?"

Dean's eyes closed and his head shook as his arm wrapped around Frank. Tight.

"Yeah," Frank breathed. "I feel guilty. I like John, I really do, but I'm glad it's him in the hospital and not you." He pressed a kiss to the top of Dean's head. "I'm sorry, but that's the way I feel."

When Dean's head lifted he looked on the verge of tears, but Frank was pretty sure this was about as close as his spouse was going to get.

"I can handle it being Dad," Dean said slowly. "But if it were you..." He swallowed hard before closing his eyes and lowering his head back down to Frank's chest.

Frank sighed as he stroked his hand over Dean's fuzzy hair. So this was what was eating at Dean. He wished he had the magic words to make everything better, something which could ease Dean's conscience. Well, the next few days ought to be lots of fun. Then again, it wasn't like Frank wanted to be anywhere else. This was just one more speedbump. They would make it over. Intact. As usual.

"Love you," Frank whispered into Dean's hair.

"Idiot," Dean mumbled against his chest. Those protective arms held him tight until Frank finally allowed sleep to take him.


Yellow Eyes. Bone-chilling laugh. The demon. It was coming for him, for his family. It was here.

John's eyes flew open, expecting to see yellow eyes and hear a cackling voice. Instead he was greeted with low lights and digital monitors. This looked suspiciously like the ICU in a hospital. He groped around for a call button, but it was too difficult to move. Everything hurt. It hurt to breathe or move. What in the hell was going on?

A beeping sound began, growing steadily faster. John's eyes roved the room, seeking the source of the new noise. His breathe caught in his chest, a painful lump he could not discharge.

What happened? Where was Dean? What did the demon do?

Running footsteps accompanied the incessant beeping.

"Easy, Mister Winchester," a woman's voice crooned. She injected something into his IV. "This will help you calm down."

Calm down? How could he calm down when he didn't know what happened? He managed to grab one of her wrists.

"My son?" he croaked, his throat raw and rough, the act of pushing air through it excruciating.

"Sshhhh..." she hushed him. "Visiting hours don't start for another half hour, but since you're awake, I'll see if we can make an exception. All right? Let me call your doctor."

Visiting hours? That sounded promising. Maybe Dean was waiting to see him. Yeah, that was probably it. He felt his body relaxing, his anxieties easing. The annoying beeping sound in the room slowed.

When the nurse returned she was accompanied by a man. When the man came closer, John could see it was Sam.

"Sammy?" he croaked.

Sam's face split in a wide smile. There was nothing quite like Sam with a real smile on his face, it made him look like he did when he was eight and really believed his big brother could fix everything wrong with the world.

"Hey, Dad." Sam accepted a small stool rolled in by the nurse. He sat near John and held his hand. "We've been worried about you."

John looked past his younger son, hoping to see Dean.

"Dean's at home," Sam told him. "We've all been taking turns sitting in the waiting room. You've been out of it for about a week, Dad."

A week? He had been in the hospital for a week and was still in ICU? And why was Sam here? But there were more pertinent details to uncover. John crooked an eye at Sammy. "Throat?"

"Oh, yeah. They had you on a ventilator. Just took it off last night." Sam gave him an apologetic smile. "The doctors warned us you'd probably have a sore throat."

John gave his son a short nod. Maybe Dean called Sam and that was why he was here? If only this fog in his brain would lift and allow him to think.

"They're not going to let all of us in at the same time and Dean usually has the evening shift, after Frank gets home from work." Sam chuckled as his grip on John's hand tightened. "Jim and Bobby keep getting into fights over who is going to come up here with Dean. Apparently Jim thinks he needs bonding time, and Bobby acts like Jim is horning in or something. Aren't they supposed to be friends?"

John shook his head, amazed at the issues coming up in his absence. "What happened?" he managed to ask. Now maybe he would find out why Sam was here.

Sam frowned at him and those piercing eyes searched his. "Don't you remember, Dad?"

John tried to search his memory, but all he could come up with was glowing yellow eyes and Sam pinned to the wall beside him. John gripped Sam's hand.

"Hurt you?" he wanted to know.

Sam shook his head. "The plan worked perfectly," he whispered. "You know, for a change." He looked worried. "Maybe I should have them call your doctor."

John shook his head, hanging on to his son. He did not want Sam leaving. Not now. Not ever.


Dean rushed into the waiting area where Jim and Bobby both waited for him. Jim had been at the house when Bobby called, but had driven over immediately so Dean could find someone to take care of Liza. "What's wrong?" he demanded. "What happened?"

Bobby had both hands up. "Nothing's wrong, Dean. Now relax."

"Nothing?" Dean glared at the older man. "What the hell do you mean nothing? If nothing's wrong, why did I have to drop Liza off with my mother-in-law and hurry my ass down here?"

"There is an issue," Jim said calmly. "But your father is awake."

Dean took a deep breath of relief. "God, the way you were acting, I thought..." He shook his head. "Okay, so what's the issue? And where's Sam?"

"That's kind of the issue," Bobby said slowly. "See, uh, John won't let him leave."

Dean glanced between the two old family friends. "Come again?"

"If Sam attempts to leave his father's side, John becomes irrational. He has pulled his IV out twice in attempts to follow Sam," Jim explained.

"Ah, crap," Dean muttered. He sighed, shaking his head. "Dad isn't awake."

Jim and Bobby exchanged a look like they thought maybe Dad wasn't the only crazy person they needed to deal with.

"Look, Dad has nightmares about Sam leaving for college. Sometimes he gets up in the middle of the night and he goes out looking for Sam." Dean sighed again. "I'll see if I can settle him down."

Neither Jim or Bobby said a word as he pressed by. Dean blew by the ICU staff, ignoring anyone calling his name. When he rounded into Dad's area, Sam sat by Dad's side talking softly.

"Hey, Dad," Dean called out cheerfully. He patted his father on the leg. "How're you feeling?"

He gripped Sam's shoulder with one hand. Sam looked relieved by his arrival.

"Dean, look," Dad said in a rough voice, "I found Sam."

"He wasn't lost, Dad," Dean told his father gently. "And his girlfriend has been looking for him."

Dad frowned. "She's dead, Dean."

"I'm talking about Serene, Dad. Remember Serene?" Dean prompted. "Good looking. Great pies. Total bitch."

"Dean!" Sam snapped.

Dad nodded seriously. "Never did like her. Sam can do better."

This was better, Dad was thinking more in the present than the past now. "You know where you are, right?" Dean sat on the edge of Dad's bed.

Dad's eyes roved the area. "I.C.U.?"

Dean nodded at him. "Do you remember why?"

Dad's brow furrowed. "I found Sam," he repeated slowly.

Sam gave Dean a wide-eyed look of total confusion. Dean couldn't blame his brother, they never had discussed what happened between him and Dad while Sam was in school.

"Sam came back, Dad," Dean tried instead. "He's been back for over a year, staying with me and Frankie. You don't have to worry about him."

Dad smiled at Dean. "He came back?"

"Yeah, Dad," Dean assured his father. "Why don't you go back to sleep now? Sam and I can come see you in a few hours."

Dad's eyes locked on Sam. "You'll come back?" he demanded, his voice loud and rough.

"Yeah, Dad," Sam assured him. "I promise."

Dad's gaze shifted to Dean. "I'll bring him back, Dad. I swear."

Dad sighed, his grip on Sam relaxing. With his other hand he held up two fingers. Dean nodded in agreement as he took off his watch and handed it over. "Two hours, Dad, you can time us. We'll be back. Now get some sleep."

Dad nodded, his eyes slipping shut. He patted Sam's arm once before his hand dropped to his side. Almost instantly, a light snore came from Dad. Dean let out a sigh of relief.

"Okay, Sammy," he whispered, "I sprung you for a couple of hours. Let's go."

Sam stuck close by Dean as they left the ICU, with a couple of the nurses waving to them.

"What the hell was that?" Sam demanded in a strained whisper.

Dean shrugged. "Dad was having a nightmare," he explained.

"A nightmare?" Sam said incredulously. "Dad? Our father? Was having a nightmare? Are you serious?"

"Yes, Sam," Dean sighed as he opened the door to the waiting area. Bobby and Jim jumped to their feet at Dean and Sam's appearance. "He is human."

"B-but..." Sam sputtered. "I-I-I didn't mean..."

"Yeah, I know," Dean cut him off as they were stopped by their old family friends. "He's fine," Dean assured them. "Sam and I are going to grab some lunch. I promised Dad we'd come back in two hours."

"I'll stay," Bobby offered, retaking his seat.

"I will as well," Jim said with a nod. "Just in case."

Dean shrugged. This would give him and Sam a little time to discuss the more human aspect of Dad's personality. They reached the Impala without Sam saying a single word. Once they were inside, however, Sam turned in the seat to face him.

"What kind of nightmare?" he demanded. "Dad wouldn't let go of my arm."

Dean shoved his key in the ignition but did not start the car. "Ever since you left for Stanford, Dad has had nightmares about that fight." He glanced over at his brother. "He never wanted you to leave."

Sam sighed, slumping against the door. "All I wanted was to go to college," he muttered.

"I know, Sammy," Dean assured his brother. "Dad screwed up and he knows it. And since that fight, part of him has been looking for you."

Sam's eyes grew wet and he looked away, out the window. "We should eat," he mumbled.

"Want to go out? Or grab a couple of sandwiches at the house?" Dean asked. "Oh, remind me to call Anna and tell her she's going to have Liza until Frank's off work."

Sam's gaze remained fixed out the window, so Dean figured eating out was probably not a good idea.


Sam. Sam was gone. Sam left. Sam!!

John's eyes flew open to find an empty room. He looked around desperately. Where was Sam? He tried to sit up, but god, he hurt. Then John noticed he was clutching something in his left hand. When he examined it, he discovered it was Dean's watch. Now why would he have Dean's watch?

John stared at it as he attempted to push past the thick fog in his brain. Dean wouldn't have left his watch here without a reason. Slowly an image of Dean and Sam, standing right here beside him, formed. They had both been here. The watch proved it. His panic easing, John tried to relax. Sleep was so damned tempting, but he wanted to see his boys, make certain they were safe.

Familiar voices reached his ears. John turned his head toward the noise, hopeful.

"He is awake!" Dean grinned as he walked up. "Hey, Dad. You look like crap, you know." Dean held his hand firmly, as if he might slip away. It was the first indication John had of how worried his sons were.

John had expected Sam to hold back and talk a little before maybe taking his hand. Instead Sam walked right up to him and leaned down to rest his head on John's chest. With a tentative hand, John stroked Sam's head as he looked to Dean for an explanation.

"We've been worried," Dean told him in a tight voice, squeezing his hand. Then the smile returned. "But at least now you look like crap. When they first brought you in, you looked like shit."

A chuckle came out and John enjoyed the pleased sparkle in Dean's eye. "Thanks," he grunted.

Sam's head lifted and his eyes were red-rimmed, like he had either been crying or was about to. "Dad? I'm not going back to school."

John shook his head, catching Sam's cheek with one hand. "It's okay, Sammy. It's fine." He rubbed his thumb over Sam's smooth cheekbone. "As long as you're with Dean."

Sam shook his head with a half-choked chuckle. "You would say that," he accused, but his son sounded more like his usual self. Sam did not accuse him of being overbearing or unreasonable, which was the final proof John needed to see how close he had come to not waking up this time.

"Want to tell me what happened?" he asked, gazing at his sons.

"Later, Dad. I promise," Dean told him. "For right now, you just need to get better. Look, Bobby and Jim are outside and would like to see you. Is that all right?"

"Sam stays?" John figured there had to be some kind of compromise. They did not allow a multitude of visitors to ICU.

Dean shrugged. "He can. I'll send 'em in one by one. All right?"

"You'll come back," John demanded.

Dean smiled again. "Yeah, Dad. No problem."

John sighed as he released Dean's hand with a nod. "How long?"

Dean gave him a quizzical look. "How long before I send in Bobby?"

John shook his head. "Home. How long?"

Dean gave his arm a squeeze. "I'll have them page your doctor so I can ask. Now I'll go send Bobby in." Dean grinned as he left as though it were nothing to worry about, but John figured it was more of an act than anything. Sometimes he really loved that kid.