AN: My advanced apologies for not knowing anything about the medical profession. I hope Dean's injuries sound realistic, but if not, please just bear with me.

Chapter 3: Lucky

"So the operation went well then, Dr. Schneider?" Sam asked anxiously as he tried to keep from sprinting down the hall to Dean's room. His first inclination had been to smack the doctor upside the head for asking such a dumbass question like "Would you like to see your brother?" But he'd reminded himself that he was supposed to be the level-headed, polite Winchester and had simply nodded at the physician breathlessly, leaving John to stew in his own vengeful misery.

Dr. Schneider pushed his wire-rimmed glasses up the bridge of his nose and gave a quirky, thoughtful sort of frown. "Well, it's strange…"

In Sam's line of work, he had come to know that strange was never a good thing.

"…Your brother's injuries were like none I've ever seen before."

"How so?" Sam asked; mirroring the doctor's wrinkled brow.

Dr. Schneider came to a halt at the door to room 208 and turned to face Sam. "You see, when Dean first arrived, we immediately noticed that he was bleeding pretty profusely from the mouth, leading me to correctly believe that he had some fairly severe internal hemorrhaging."

Sam nodded in understanding and shifted his weight uneasily.

"As expected, Dean had heavy bruising and broken vessels on his pancreas and spleen," the doctor continued. "All normal maladies from a car crash. However, the accident doesn't provide an explanation for these," he paused to pull an expanded photo from the file folder he'd been carrying and held it up for Sam's inspection.

Sam felt his stomach lurch when he realized that the thick red bands in the picture were gashes across his brother's chest and abdomen and that they had been created by their possessed father.

"These lacerations are deep," Dr. Schneider put heavy emphasis on the word. "I had to stitch the muscle wall together and cauterize a lot of vessels. Do you know anything about these?" he asked pointedly, waving the glossy print in the air.

Oh shit Sam thought. Here's the part where they haul us off with IVs and handcuffs.

"I, uh," Sam gave a perplexed non-smile and shrugged his good shoulder. "I have no idea. Maybe there was some glass…from the window maybe? I don't know." He knew it sounded lame, and Dr. Schneider seemed to think so too.

Thankfully, however, the physician pushed open the room door and waved for Sam to enter. "Perhaps it'll come to you later," he said politely.

"Oh yeah, I'm sure it will," Sam said quickly, eager to escape the doctor's scrutiny and reach Dean's side. He gave Dr. Schneider one last nod of thanks and stepped across the threshold of recovery room 208.

Sam wasn't quite sure what he'd expected. It was like he thought Celine Dion should have been there to belt out some uplifting number and a banner that proclaimed Ding-Dong Dean's Alive! should have unfurled from the ceiling. There should have been confetti and streamers and noisemakers, and cake, lots of cake, but there wasn't. There was only Dean.

There he was with his chiseled jaw, his sharp, ever so slightly crooked nose, and those pouting lips of his. He looked far too pale, leaning back against the pillows limp as a rag doll, barely blonde hair un-gelled and mashed against his head. But he looked up as Sam entered and his hazel eyes, although heavily ringed in black, glittered with a fire that could only be described as Dean-esque.

"Hey…s'up, bitch?" Dean called hoarsely with an attempt at his signature cocky grin.

Sam felt his face tighten oddly, and suddenly realized that for the first time in days he was actually smiling. "Dude," Sam shook his head in amused disbelief and took a seat in the hard plastic chair that had been placed beside his brother's bed. "You are such a jerk."

"Ah, but what would you do without me?" Dean's light tone failed to cover up the sadness that flashed across his face. "How's Dad?" he asked soberly, his smile slipping.

Sam leaned back in the chair and sighed. It felt as if the world had been lifted from his shoulders just seeing Dean alive and mostly normal, the last thing he wanted to discuss was John. "He's an asshole, as usual," he said as lightly as possible.

"But he's…I mean his leg…he's gonna be okay, right?" Dean's brows knitted together as he tried to lean forward on his bed. "Sam?"

"He's fine, Dean," Sam assured soothingly. "The doctors removed the slug from his tibia and put some Neosporin on his cuts. He'll be grumpy as new in no time," he quirked a tiny smile for Dean's benefit.

"Slug? Aw crap!" Dean grimaced and flopped his head back onto the elevated pillow. "The cops are gonna be all over our asses."

"I know, I know…"

"Sam, all gun shot wounds that come through the ER are reported to the police immediately." Dean's eyes became wide. "Dude, we've gotta get out of here. We've gotta get out of here yesterday."

Sam gave a little silencing wave with his good hand and shook his head. "You aren't going anywhere, at least not for a couple of days." He squared his jaw in response to Dean's groans of protest. "I'm serious, you…you got pretty messed up back there, Dean. I'm not letting you get up until we're sure those stitches will hold."

Dean's sour expression suddenly turned to one of amusement. "Thanks, Dad, but maybe you should take care of yourself first," he pointed at Sam's sling.

Sam rubbed the offensive cloth distractedly and ducked his head. "Yeah, well, I guess we were just lucky last night."

Dean smiled tiredly. "Naw, Sammy, luck had nothing to do with it."

Sam lifted his eyes to meet his brother's gaze and realized that in his own, un-mushy, round-about way, Dean was thanking him. Sam returned the smile, his heart warm. "Well, Dad always said…"

"…Make every shot count," they finished in unison and shared a soft chuckle.

"Get some sleep, Dean," Sam patted his brother's shoulder, noticing just how fatigued the older man looked. "I'll see you in the morning."

Dean flashed a half-hearted thumbs up and settled back into a more comfortable position, his eyes closing almost immediately.

Sam shot one more look over his shoulder at his dozing brother before slipping out of the room. He didn't care what Dean said, he knew without a doubt that tonight he was the luckiest guy on earth; he had his brother back.

-O-

The late afternoon shadows spanned across the tiled floor, stretched, warped, and eventually yielded to fluorescent bulbs as night claimed the evening sky. Time lapsed and John Winchester sat, alone and empty on his hospital bed; his leg throbbing and the painkillers untouched on the nightstand. He refused to take the pills; why mask physical pain when the emotional pain was so much worse?

In his mind, he replayed his conversation with Sam over and over again. Each time it was slightly different; he hugged his son, told him he was sorry, and told him it was okay that he'd used the bullet, it didn't matter anyway. He told him that Dean was anything but weak, that he was the strongest man he knew, and that he was proud of both of them.

But all the imagining in the world would do no good now. He'd said what he'd said and couldn't take it back. He'd done what he had to in order to bind his boys closer together. They had to be a united front, a wall of fraternity that was the ultimate threat to all that went bump in the night. And he needed them to hate him, their own father. He needed them to leave him behind so that he could finish this fight on his own. John was more than willing to jump into the fire himself, but he'd be damned if his boys would succumb to an untimely fate on his account.

The night stretched on, nurses came and went, but Sam never returned. He hadn't expected him to, but oh how he wished that he would. He kept hoping he might poke his shaggy head back through the doorway…but for what? Small talk? Sam was too much like his father to forgive and forget so easily.

John had succeeded. He'd succeeded in breaking his own heart when his youngest son walked through the door for the last time.

TBC

See, John's not a total monster after all; I like his character too much to write him as one. Up until this point there hasn't been much action, okay none really, but I promise that things will pick up in chapters to come. Thx to everyone who reviewed and please keep the feedback comin'!