Warnings and disclaimers see chapter 1

Many thanks to rascalflattsgurl43 for the speedy and accurate beta on this story

Chapter fifty two Long distance call

Sam drove them to the store and they bought groceries. They unloaded them at the apartment and then Sam made lunch. They were just finishing up when Sam's phone rang. It was Jenny asking Sam to cover a shift if he had the time. It seemed the bug was still going around and she was struggling for workers. Sam checked with Dean then went in to work for a few hours. Dean decided on a walk, purposefully walking the opposite way of the bookstore. Dean had a pleasant walk then went back to the apartment and washed the car. Since there was no laundry to do he tidied up the apartment then his duffle bag. He made lemon chicken for dinner and left it in a mildly warm oven to keep warm.

He was sitting at the table flicking through his notebook when his phone rang. Dean looked at his phone in surprise. John had finally gotten around to give him a call. About time.
"Hey dad, how's things?"
"Okay Dean. Are you about ready to take off?"
"What?"
"Leave. Haven't you intruded on Sam long enough? I have a job for you."
"Dad, I'm recovering from getting shot and Sam likes me being here." Dean frowned even though John couldn't see him.
"You've had plenty of time to get better, Dean. Time to get back in the saddle. I have an easy salt and burn in the next state for you. Once you get to…"
"Dad! You're not listening are you? I can't even walk properly. I just had my arm re-broken. How am I meant to dig a grave?"
"You will manage like you always do. Come on Dean, get the lead out."
"I haven't been cleared to drive yet."
"Huh. Since when did that bother you? I've seen you drive fifty miles with a fifteen inch stake through your leg. You can drive with a broken arm. You know the doctors have no idea what they are talking about. I will meet you in Arizona in the morning."
"Dad no, I can't. I'm still missing years of my life and have bad headaches. I just need a little longer to get better. If you had bothered to call or come see me you would know."

Speaking of headaches there was a bad one settling between his eyes right now.
"Are you talking back to me? Sam did this didn't he? Sam made you soft and encouraged you to think for yourself. He always hated that you did as you were told. Well you have to man up and get back to work. People are dying while you and your brother have a little holiday in the sun out there."
Dean couldn't believe what his father was saying. Surely he understood that he needed time to recover. He buried his knuckles in the side of his head as his headache overwhelmed his effort to get his father to understand. He was suddenly feeling very sick to his stomach.
"Dad it's not Sam it's …"
"I don't care what your excuse is Dean. I said there's a job and you need to go do it. You are a soldier and you have had more than enough time to get better."
"Not this time. I'm sorry dad but…"

Dean was surprised to hear a click on the line then static as the line went dead. Dean breathed deeply a few times struggling with his breathing as went into a full blown panic attack. He had a few when he was a small kid and John had left them alone for a long time. He lurched up from the table, throwing his phone away as he bolted into the bathroom and managed to flick the lid open just in time to throw up noisily into the toilet. Dean threw up until there was nothing left and his headache was huge. Dean washed the bathroom and washed himself up quickly then limped out of the room, crushing his already fractured phone under his boot as he went.

He turned off the oven with a jerk and scooped up his keys and pain pills before leaving the apartment. He didn't bother to leave a note, his head hurt too much and his brain was searing with image after image. A visual monologue of his life flashing through his brain to fast to work out what any of them meant. He didn't have his crutch or his sling but walked without a direction in mind. A walk usually worked to free him from a panic attack and it might take his mind off the pain. After two hours or walking, he sat down on a park bench he came across, surprised to find he was sitting across from the liquor store he had been shot in, his brain still in full panic mode.


Sam walked into the apartment only ten minutes after Dean had left. He felt the essence of Dean's presence in the room and walked to the living room. Seeing Dean wasn't there, he followed his nose to the kitchen and pulled dinner out of the oven. Sam frowned and checked the fridge and counter for a note then walked back out to the living room.

He walked to the bathroom and pushed the half ajar door open all the way. Even though the light was on, Dean wasn't there. Sam took a step in seeing the sink still wet and heard a crunch under his shoe. Sam looked down and saw bits of Dean's phone on the floor. He bent and picked them up noticing the toilet was wet around the rim. He breathed in deeply and thought he smelled the faint wisp of vomit. Sam frowned and took the pieces of phone to the table where he noticed the chair was out from the table and Dean's notebook sat on the table. It was cover up so it didn't look like Dean had been reading it. Sam frowned trying to work out what had happened and where Dean was.

TBC