Chapter 3: Stress

Author's Note: Thanks to everyone who has already reviewed. As usual I appreciate all the feed back and the comments. I'm not exactly sure where I'm going with this. I just know I couldn't leave well enough alone after the cliffhanger season finale they gave us. I needed more. I figure Supernatural will probably kill of John but I think he needed a chance for redemption before he made his way to the pearly gates. Maybe I watched too much Angel over the years, but everyone needs a second chance.

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Two days later John was rushing around frantically. The boys were set to come home today and he wasn't ready. He woke up this morning only to realize there was no food in the house. He had been living on take out since cooking for one person was a total waste of time.

So the day started with a trip to the market where he grabbed eggs, milk, bread, peanut butter and jelly, a variety of can food and an assortment of frozen dinners and pizzas. He remembered that the boys liked Lucky Charms and grabbed a box of that along with some sodas. Just before reaching the checkout lane he passed the book and magazine rack. He grabbed a few car magazines and tabloids for Dean and a couple of novels for Sam.

He returned home and put it all away in the kitchen and then remembered the boys didn't have any clothes at the hospital. The ones they had arrived in had been literally cut off their bodies. John also hadn't bothered to do any laundry for the boys so he had no clean clothes for them. Shit, that would mean another trip to the store.

Before heading out he grabbed their shoes and their spare coats. Thank goodness Dean's favorite leather jacket hadn't been ruined. Dean was wearing his blue coat the night of the crash.

Back in the truck he headed to the local K-Mart where he grabbed a pair of Levi's for each of them along with two gray t-shirts and two button-down shirts. At the last second he remembered socks and underwear. He hoped the boys wore the same size since he was only buying one package of each. Money was a little tight right now. At least he was getting paid today. In fact he needed to stop at the garage on the way to the hospital so he would have money for the weekend.

He passed a shelf of DVD's and even though he knew he shouldn't waste the money he grabbed two movies to buy. They weren't new since they were only $6.44 each but he knew he had never seen either of them. One was called Resident Evil, which he figured Dean would like, and the other was called The Goonies, which he hoped Sam would like.

He paid the cashier and ran out to the truck once more. Ten minutes later he was at Chuck's Auto Repair Shop.

"Hey, John, what are you doing here?" Luke asked. He was a nineteen year old kid who worked part time. "Thought your sons were being released from the hospital today."

"They are. I'm on my way there right now. I just came to get my pay so I'll have some cash on hand this weekend," John replied.

"I hear that."

John hurried inside and found Chuck sitting at his desk.

"John, how are the boys?"

"I haven't seen them yet. I've been running around to the market and K-mart for some clothes for them. I just stopped to collect my pay."

"Sure." Chuck opened a small safe in the corner and counted out John's wages for the week. He placed $360 in John's hand.

"Thanks for this," John said.

"No problem. You're a good worker. You have a job here for as long as you want," Chuck replied. "Now go get your boys and enjoy your weekend with them. I'm sure they will be happy to be out of the hospital."

"Thanks, and they will be."

John went back to the truck and headed for the hospital. He parked in the lot and made the long walk to his boys' room. He smiled as he entered the room to find Sam and Dean sitting on the edge of Dean's bed waiting for him.

"Hey boys. You ready to get the hell out of here?"

"Yes," they replied.

"Don't suppose you remembered clothes, did ya?" Dean asked.

"Sure did," John replied handing over the K-Mart bags.

"Sweet," Dean replied.

"Do either of you need help getting dressed?" John asked.

Sam and Dean both looked like deer caught in headlights. They were used to seeing each other occasionally in their birthday suits but it had been ten years or better since their father had seen them in such a state of undress.

"Uh…I think we'll manage," Sam said.

"All right. Just holler if you need anything." Then John closed the door behind him.

Dean dug through the bags and handed Sam his new clothes after he ripped the tags off of them.

"Thanks," Sam said.

"You have to be kidding," Dean groaned.

"What?"

Dean held up his clothes and Sam had to laugh. Dad had bought them matching outfits.

"Maybe for a split second he thought we were twins," Sam chuckled.

"Dude, we are going to look like dorks wearing the same clothes."

"Dean, we're at the hospital. There's no one to impress here. All we need to do is wear them till we get home. Besides, you have a bigger problem. Blue jeans aren't going to fit over your cast."

"Shit," Dean grumbled when he realized Sam was right. "I'm going to have to cut the leg off."

"Wait, maybe the hospital has a pair of sweat pants you can have," Sam offered. "And this way we won't be dressed the same."

"Good idea." Dean hobbled over to the door and opened it a crack. "Hey Dad, ask them if they have a pair of sweat pants or scrubs here. I can't fit the jeans over my cast."

"I'm sorry Dean, I didn't even think."

"That's okay. Just go ask."

Dean sat on the bed waiting while Sam drew his curtain and began getting dressed. Sam was able to pull his pants on no problem and even the t-shirt, but he couldn't wear the button down shirt because of his own cast. He pulled on some socks using one hand and slipped his shoes on. He realized that he couldn't tie them, however.

There was a knock on the door and then John entered with a pair of gray sweats for Dean.

"Great," Dean said. He pulled the pliable material up over his boxers and then striped off the hospital gown. It only took a moment for him to pull on the two shirts.

"I need someone to tie my shoes," Sam said. He placed one foot at a time on the edge of the seat and Dad quickly did the laces.

"Where's your shirt Sam?"

"Doesn't fit because of the cast."

"I'm sorry. I guess I didn't do a good job selecting clothes. I was in a hurry."

"We never would have guess," Sam teased.

"What does that mean?"

"It means you bought us matching clothes," Dean griped. "That would have been cute if we were still under the age of ten, but not when we're both in our twenties."

John laughed. "Give a guy a break would ya? I've been running around all morning trying to get things ready for you two. I'm a little out of practice with this stuff."

Now Sam laughed. "Dad, you were never in practice with this stuff. Dean usually took care of that type of thing."

John grinned. "Yeah, I guess that's true. Still, I'm trying. Now let's get out of here."

Two orderlies showed up with wheel chairs and Sam and Dean took their last spin through the hospital with John following behind.

"You two wait here and I'll go get the car," John said.

"We're okay to walk," Sam said. "Actually after all that laying I'd like to walk in the fresh air for a bit."

"Ditto," Dean replied.

"Okay."

John led them through the parking lot to his truck. He kept a close eye on both his sons. He saw that Dean was hobbling along fine with his new cast but Sam was moving a little slow. Sam had also lost weight from being on a liquid diet. He would need to bulk Sam back up and have the kid rebuild his muscle tone.

Finally they reached the car. John climbed in behind the wheel. Sammy sat in the middle while Dean got the window seat.

"Now take me to see my car," Dean said.

"What?" John asked.

"My car? I want to see it."

"Uh…Dean, I don't think that's a good idea. You know, it doesn't look to good right now."

"I know, but you said you've been working on it."

"Yeah, but you see, I've also been working on the house and making money at pool and working at the garage and visiting you boys at the hospital. Let me just take you two home right now. You can see the car another day."

"Dad, I want to see my car, now. If you won't take me then I'll freaking walk to the garage."

"All right, all right, but don't say I didn't warn you."

Sam had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. The way Dad was acting told him that the car was most likely totaled but still, Dean would want to see it for himself. Ten minutes later they pulled in front the repair shop.

"You boys behave here. Remember, this is where I work."

"Yes, sir."

They climbed out of the truck and John led them around back. There, behind the garage was Dean's beloved car. Sam's suspicions were dead on. The car was nothing more than pieces of scrap metal. The passenger side of the car was actually gone. It had been torn off to free John from the wreck. The tires were no longer straight up and down but now bent sideways. This car was never going to run ever again.

Sam actually felt a shiver go up his spine as he looked at the car and realized that they had actually all been inside of it when that had happened. Suddenly he understood why he had spent three weeks in a coma. Honestly, it was a miracle any of them were still alive.

Dean slowly walked a circle around his baby. His hands were clenching and unclenching and his nostrils flared in and out. His face was flush with anger.

Sam came up behind Dean and put a hand on his shoulder. "You okay?"

Dean jerked his hand off and turned on Sam. "How could you not see a semi truck heading straight for us? Christ! A SEMI!"

Sam backed up quickly and raised his arm to fend off a punch. Dean had never attacked Sam before, not like this, but Sam could see the anguish his brother was going through and wouldn't hold it against him if Dean suddenly struck him.

"Dean!" John shouted and quickly placed himself between his two sons. "Dean, I was there too, and it happened to fast. The truck came out of no where. Sam didn't do anything wrong. This is no more his fault than yours or mine."

"But..."

"No, Dean. This stinks, I know, but there is no one to blame except for the person driving the truck. I've seen the police report and we were hit deliberately. I've even driven out to the crash sight and its plain as day. The truck that hit us wasn't even driving on a road. It was moving cross country."

"What?" Dean gasped.

"That's right. The crash was no accident. It was an attempt to kill us."

"But why didn't they finish off the job?" Sam asked. "At the crash sight it would have been so easy to shoot us or slit our throats or anything. Why did they let us live? Why haven't they been back?"

"I don't know," John admitted. "I don't think they want to kill you, Sam. In fact I'm pretty sure of that. I couldn't read that fucker's mind while he was in me but I was able to hear him sometimes, to get…feelings…from him. The demon is planning something with you and the others like you."

"Do you have any idea what that is?" Sam asked.

"No. I wish I did but I haven't got a clue."

"So I really am cursed," Sam said sadly.

"Sam."

"Don't Dean. Don't tell me that it will be okay or that this is our problem. No matter where I go or what I do this thing is always going to be after me. Any girl I ever let into my life will be in danger of having her gut slashed open and set ablaze while stuck to the ceiling. I'm never going to have the dream, Dean. I'm never going to get married. I'm never going to have children. God, this is it. This really is going to be the rest of my life. Hunting monsters in the night, visions of people I don't even know dying violently, migraine headaches that are almost crippling, and nightmares that tear me from my sleep night after night, aren't I the lucky one?"

Sam spun around and fled his brother and his father. He jogged back to the pick up truck, rested his good arm on the hood and then laid his head on his arm. He was wallowing in self pity he knew and yet he didn't care. Why? Why was this happening to him? His breathing was coming in quick gasps and he knew he was hyperventilating. He needed to calm down before he passed out but he couldn't get his emotions under control. If anything the harder he tried to calm down the more anxiety he felt.

A set of strong arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him from the hood of the car. Sam leaned back, his breath still coming in short gasps, and he saw his father clutching him tight, supporting Sam's weight. Suddenly Dean was in front of him slapping his face.

"Sammy, snap out of it," Dean ordered, but Sam didn't. Spots were starting to dance before his eyes and he knew he was going to pass out. He felt his father dragging him towards the door of the truck. Dean quickly whipped the door open and helped Dad sit Sam down on the seat. After that Sam remembered nothing.

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Dean sat in the truck holding Sam to him. Sam's head was currently resting on his chest. It had been almost five minutes since Sammy's little anxiety attack and still Sam was passed out.

"He hasn't had one of those in years," John said.

Dean was tempted to say 'how would you know?' but didn't. There was enough to worry about at the moment without pissing Dad off too. The fact was Sam had been suffering from anxiety ever since Jess died, but this was the first time he'd hyperventilated and passed out since about the age of eleven or twelve. Still, Dean could understand why the kid had lost it just now. Sam suddenly felt as if all hope had been lost.

Dean checked Sam's pulse once again and was glad to see his heart rate was returning to normal. It had been racing just a couple of minutes ago.

"Dad, we have to find this thing and kill it somehow," Dean said. "Sam is never going to be free until we do."

John took his eyes off the road long enough to look at Dean and Dean was surprised to see anger on the old man's face. "For the record you boys had a chance to take it out, and both of you failed to do it."

"Fine, let me amend my statement. We need to find this thing and kill it without killing you or one of us in the process."

"I wish I could promise that it wouldn't come to that, but I just can't. Dean, I know your number one goal is to keep this family safe…to keep us alive at all costs, but you are going to have to realize something…the job we do comes with a body count. Jenkins, Pastor Jim, Caleb, they were simply minding their own business when the job caught up to them and killed them. The fact is it's not a question of if but when. This job is going to be the death of us, whether it's today, tomorrow, or a year from now. We've been lucky so far, but luck doesn't hold out forever."

"So what are you trying to tell me?" Dean asked. "Quit? Send Sammy back to Stanford? We can't quit this job now. That demon's not going to let us quit. He's not going to let Sam have a normal life. You know that, I know that, and even worse, Sam knows that, which is why he hyperventilated and passed out."

"Of course I'm not saying we quit, but you need to accept what is going to be inevitable. One day one of us is going to die, and you won't be able to stop it. One day one of us is going to have to be sacrificed to save the rest."

"No," Dean replied. "Not happening. Not while I'm around."

John looked at him once more. John was trying desperately to make a point with Dean but his son was refusing to acknowledge to point he was making. John decided to let it go for now. He reminded himself that his goal was to repair his relationship with his sons, not drive the wedge between them even deeper. Finally John pulled into the driveway next to their new little house.

"Sammy," Dean called softly and tapped Sam on his cheek. "Come on little brother, we're home."

Sam's eyes opened slowly and he blinked several times. "Dean?"

"I'm here." Dean lifted Sam off his chest and leaned him upright. "You think you can walk to the house?"

Sam felt light headed and dizzy but nodded yes. Dean slid out of the truck first and then Sam slid over. Dean was about to help Sam out of the truck but found himself being moved to the side.

"I got him. You're not totally stable yourself with your broken leg." John had hurried around the truck to help Sam. He grabbed Sam by his good arm and guided him toward the front steps. John noticed that Sam still seemed a bit out of it. This definitely wasn't the home coming he had envisioned for his boys but then life very rarely ever went the way they wanted it to.

Sam found himself climbing the five steps with Dad on his right side and Dean on his left. Each had a hand on him, supporting him, making sure he didn't fall. It should have been a touching moment to Sam, but it also served as a reminder that he was the weak one of the three. His own breathing had betrayed him today.

John unlocked the door and ushered Sam and Dean inside. He watched as the boys took a moment to check out the new place. Then John grabbed Sam and guided him over to the sofa and gave him a small push to sit down.

"Dean, have a seat too. I want you two to just take it easy today." John knew that Dean had also had a big shock today when he saw his car and right now he didn't need either son hitting the floor.

Dean walked to the other sofa and sat down. He leaned back, closed his eyes, and threw his arm over his face. He wasn't going to have an anxiety attack but he was definitely feeling the stress of the day catch up to him. Shit, his car was ruined, Sam had passed out cold, and Dad was trying to convince him that he was going to have to accept that they were going to die eventually. Yep, that definitely made for a crappy day in Dean's book.

Dean felt a hand on his shoulder and lifted his arm to see his father standing over him with a blanket and a pillow.

"You need to rest," John told him. "Take your shoe off and lay back. John positioned the pillow at the head of the sofa and Dean stretched out and made himself comfortable. Then John draped the blanket over him.

He watched his father duck in to another room and return with another blanket and pillow for Sam. Sam was still sitting up in the sofa and seemed to be a million miles away. Dean knew that look on Sam's face. He had seen it often this past year. It was the one that basically guaranteed his brother would wake up screaming about two hours after he fell asleep.

Sam flinched when Dad touched his shoulder but he lay back in the sofa without argument when John nudged him to lie down. Sam kicked his shoes off and also got comfortable. A second pillow appeared to place between Sam's heavy cast and his chest. Then Dad covered him with the blanket.

John looked back to Dean. "Son do you need a pillow for your leg?"

"No, I'm good."

"Do you want the TV on?"

"No, unless Sam wants it on."

"No, I'm good," Sam replied.

"All right, you boys get some rest and we'll have dinner when you wake up and then you can check out the rest of the house."

"Okay, Dad," Dean said.

"Yeah," Sam agreed.

John took a last look at his boys and then went into the kitchen to read the newspaper.

"Dean," Sam called softly.

"Yeah?"

"I'm sorry about your car."

"It wasn't your fault, Sam. I'm sorry I yelled at you."

"It's okay. You were in shock is all."

"Doesn't matter now. Get some sleep Sam. It's been a long day."

Sam nodded and closed his eyes.