Ok guys, this chapter is longer than the others, but I'm not feeling confidant about its quality. Every week when I sit down to write the next chapter I re-read you reviews and they serve as my inspiration. I thank each and everyone who has reviewed.

REVEIWS: (sorry is I misspell/forget you!)

L'insomnie des etoiles, nikita, morning sunlight, morning sunlight, Unreal Wanderers, Brenny, Rhesa, Thru Terry's Eyes, mtuffy, purehalo, princesspeanut, blazingfire03, DeanLives, The Silent Rumble, WelshChicky.

Chapter Ten

Sam looked instantly down to his brother, realising his hand was still entangled in Dean's hair.

He slowly drew his hand away, eyes timidly darting from his father to his brother. Unsure of what to do.

"Dean? Son, can you hear me?" John asked, lending a reassuring hand to Sam. The elder boys eyelids flickered a little, his eyes opened slightly before closing again, all the tension in his muscles going slack again.

"Dad?" Sam asked, an absent hand rubbing the sleep from his eyes. John smiled to his youngest before leaning over him and wrapping his arms around Dean, gently lifting the teenager from the car.

He went to the door, silently praying no one would see them as Sam pushed the key into the lock and turned it with a gentle click.

"Hurry up Sam, your brother is getting heavy." John hissed, immediately regretting the anger that seeped into the statement.

Sam silently cursed his father, cursed him for forcing Dean to do these things, cursed him for always being away on hunts, and cursed him for the life they led.

He let his anger bubbled up some more as his father pushed past him and into the room. He had had it.

For the first time he turned around, and instead of answering 'yes sir' like he had once been content to do he snarled. "Don't you dare tell me what to do!"

Taken by shock John unceremoniously dumped his eldest son on the closest bed and turned flaming eyes to the defiant boy before him.

"What. Did. You. Just. Say?" He demanded, cold fury and venom laced in every word.

Sam felt those words goad him onwards, giving him the satisfaction of getting to his father.

"I said: Don't tell me what to do!"

"Samuel Winchester, you will not talk to me like that again!"

"I will do what I want, I'm sick of being here when you go off on you hunts!" Sam's voice was filled with anger, no where near as intimidating as his fathers, but just as powerful. "I am sick of Dean having to drag you out of bars! Sick of having to keep this family alive! All you do is hunt and all Dean does is work for money and drop to his knees every time you walk past so his can kiss the dirt you contaminate!"

"Don't you dare say that to me, I work hard for this family! You have no right to say that!" John yelled, their anger heightening.

OoOoOoOoO

Dean heard the yelling, he wanted so much for it to go away. His head was throbbing.

He took a deep breath, unnoticed by anyone in the room and, keeping his eyes closed, did a mental assessment on his injuries.

His nose was broken, he knew that from before, and his finger was dislocated, easy to fix, he had a gash on one arm, but his memory told him it wasn't deep, and would heal quickly.

Stinging up and down his arms and legs served as reminders of the fun few minutes he had spent being dragged down dark alley ways, and a coppery taste in his mouth announced that his had somehow bitten his tongue in the process.

"What do you mean I'm a bad father?" an outraged voice broke into his thoughts.

"It's your fault Dean went there…you could have left us money!"

"My fault his was foolish enough to go parading around so he could get the stuffing beaten out of him?"

"Foolish? He was trying to get money, you know, SO WE CAN EAT!"

Dean tried to block it out again. Sam and his father were arguing, it sounded worse than it had been for a while. It annoyed Dean to no end.

And he dreaded to think this would be a reoccurring happening. Fights. Arguments. Mood Swings.

Sometimes Dean felt safer in a Fight Club. Here no matter what you said it was against someone.

"Dean did this even though you two could have waited, it's his own fault!"

"Dean does more for us than you do." The words were whispered, quiet, as though the owner had suddenly realised how pointless the argument was.

John felt those words hit home. He wanted to seize his son and cry for both of them. It was true; Dean did do a lot for this family.

"You're right." John muttered. "He takes care of us."

These words peaked Dean's interest; his father never spoke about him like that.

He heard shuffling feet come over to him. "You hear that son?" His father's voice once again tried to get his eyes to open.

"Why don't you tell him when he can hear you?" A voice asked, it wasn't an accusation, a suggestion.

"I will."

Dean felt himself swell with happiness. John and Sam finally agreed, they weren't fighting, they were actually being rational.

He smiled.

"Dean?"

His eyes cracked open and he found himself staring at his father's concerned face. John had an arm around Sam as if they hadn't just spent the night yelling at each other.

"You ok Dean?" Sam asked.

Dean's smile widened. "You guys finally figured it out…" He whispered in a scratchy voice that made him want to wince. Dean Winchester's voice was never scratchy.

"Figured what out?" John demanded.

"That you guys actually love each other." Dean motioned to their arms around each other. "Nice to know you're not fighting."

They both blushed, neither bothering to tell Dean about their earlier yelling contest, neither knowing he had heard it.

"You didn't answer you're brother's question…are you ok?"

Dean smiled, "When am I not?"

"Good, because we need to have a talk about all of this."

Dean scowled. 'Life is so not fair.' He thought.

John smiled, running a hand over his son's face. "Let me fix you up first. You need some rest."

"Dad…I'm not a kid!" Dean protested. "And Dean Winchester is never broken, you can't fix me."

Sam laughed, his goofy smile spreading over his face. Dean watched his brother for a moment, as Sam yawned.

Dean moved back, trying to ignore the little flames of pain that shot through his body. He lifted the blankets and climbed under then, motioning for Sam to join him.

"Dean?"

"The other bed's Dad's now…and I'm in yours…" Sam grinned, climbing into the bed.

"We never speak of this again." Dean murmured as Sam curled up next to his brother and they both fell asleep, John sitting beside them, slowly cleaning Dean's wounds.

TBC

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It's not over yet! I think I might have one more chapter. I know this chapter didn't have a lot of action in it, please please tell me if you like this one because I'm not to sure about it.

I love to hear your feed back and comments. They make my day.

KEEP SMILIN' :) (And reviewing)