A/N Thanks to the fast work of TheAmazingTecnocolorRingWraith this chapter is done. Don't worry, there is plenty more to go. Just gotta remember...

You all know the drill. You think it stinks let me know. You find it boring, tell me. I need ya all to write so don't be shy. College is staring in Europe and since I'm a student a plan on writing an uploading is being made in my head.

Dean Winchester stared at the instructions like they were written in alien language.

When in reality they were in English.

Raising his eyes at the pile of wood, plastic and metal in front of him he sighted in defeat.

"Sam would be laughing his ass of if he could see me now"

He pushed the stab of pain at the name and returned to the instructions for the damn crib.

"Connect B4 with E26" his glare rose back to the pile. Which damn part is fucking B4?"

Like the biggest idiot and not like Dean Winchester who turned radios into music players and ghost detectors slowly turned the paper to the side, tilting it along with his head. If he ever found the person who wrote this...that man or woman was obviously possessed.

"You done?"

Green eyes instantly turned, to the doors where Samantha was standing. Huge but giving the term 'glow' a whole new meaning.

He smiled at the sight, his irritation at the damn thing vanishing.

"Getting there"

She smiled back, her hand unconsciously resting on her growing stomach.

The cop lowered the gun. The doors crashed opened with Michael barging in, his eyes taking in the scene. The empty bed, the broken window, the terrified nurse, the shaking cop and finally...blood on the ground.

The cop looked at Michael, with wide, fear filled eyes, "I didn't mean to-"

Not that meant much to Dean.

He was out cold, a dark pool spreading next him in spite of the fact that the doctor was pressing the wound with all his strength and knowledge.

"I didn't meant to" the kid continued mumbling.

That didn't mean much to Michael either. It only stopped him from beating the man into a pulp...for the moment. So instead of killing him on the spot, Michael chose to ignore him. For the moment.

He heard running, probably guards and doctors, in their direction but didn't pay it any attention. His focus was on the man who was closest to a brother on the ground, covered and surrounded with blood.

The doctor raised his eyes, his face impassive. "He's going to be OK". Sadly Michael read people for a living. He spent years being trained
to the point that he was a walking, breathing lie detector.

He saw behind the mask of a man that saw death in everyday life and what he saw made him feel lost. He saw the alarm, fright, uncertainty and surrender.

When Michael's eyes fell on Dean again, he saw something for the first time. There was no grin, laugh or sheer power of life Dean
possessed...there was nothingness.

There was only death left behind.

"I'm pregnant"

Beer went flying out of mouth, over the table and floor. The coughing lasted for a few seconds, Samantha patting him on the back the entire time. Slowly, with eyes equal to the size of the china plates she insisted they buy he orbited to her. The game he was looking forward for days - now forgotten - continued on the screen. Numb - with his glazed gaze still on his girlfriend who was nervously smiling at him - Dean pressed the mute button, blinked and opened his mouth. No sound. Clearing his thought he asked a question any sane, intelligent man would.

"Your what?"

John Winchester opened his eyes. Again.

This time he wasn't on the ground next to his pick up truck.

Now the sun was behind a curtain, the ground was replaced by a softer bed. Then it hit him.

"Mary?"

He sat up with a start his brain instantly showing it's displeasure.

But his heart won over his brain. Years of wanting to see his wife pushed the pain away.

There was another figure on the bed opposite of his. Blond hair spilling over the pillow.

Before any rational thought came he jumped from his place, pain forgotten and scrabbled to the figure.

"Mary!"

"No"

Samantha glared at him, arms crossing.

He managed to hold it together...in spite of her expression. Because he knew it was the right thing to do. John Winchester was thrown into fighting shadows unprepared; unsuspecting of the price he...they would be paying for years to come.

Dean wasn't about do the same mistake. No. He learned that lesson well.

Paid the price of it last time.

"Samantha-"

Her eyes flashed" I don't want her part of that world"

Dean sighed, because he didn't want the same thing, but early in life he learned that what you want and what you get are mostly different things" Better be prepared then lost when the time comes"

Temper burning she steeped in closer, eyes dark with anger.

"Never-" for a single moment her voice broke, a finger raising in his direction, "Never mention or quote your father in front of me"

His temper, the one he usually kept under control flared. His palms turned into fists.

"He is my father"

She glared at him - for a moment - then her eyes, voice and stance softened, "He was your CO, Dean." her voice rose letter by letter, "The man probably knows nothing about you"

Nobody spoke after that.

Warm hands clasped his, his anger completely gone. Pain sliced his heart. Because she was probably right.

Brown eyes watched green.

"This is your second chance," her face broke into a small smile, her hand squeezed his.

"This is a new start for the both of us"

He stayed silent because he knew this was just the beginning of this topic...but he did squeeze her hand back.

"Eve"

The voice startled her, making her hand reach for the shotgun on the table. Forcing the instinctive reaction and the bomb of adrenaline away she managed to calm down...enough to not do anything stupid; like kill him for quietly coming back.

She rotated the chair around, facing the other young man, feeling relief when she saw he was unharmed.

"Anything going on Tom?"

The black haired 25 year old with dark eyes shook his head, his eyes dropping on the limp body on the bed. "He still out of it?"

Eve pushed her long brown hair out her face in a not so graceful move.

"Yeah, not a peep from him"

Tom moved to him and Eve tensed again, scanning the body for movement her muscles prepared to move in necessary.

"Probably will stay that way until morning"

She relaxed at his words, trusting him along with his words and again turned to news papers on the desk. Checking the back of the head of the youngest Winchester he strengthened again.

"When he wakes up-" Eve glanced at him so he continued, "If he doesn't give us what we need?"

Brown eyes first fell on the shot gun again, then on the Winchester occupying the farther side of the room and finally at Tom. Her stare cold.

"Then he dies"

Samantha smiled, pushing the can of paint into Dean's hands, Michael already holding his.

"Have fun, the girls are taking me for baby shopping"

Before Dean could even blink she was out.

Michael glanced at him, Dean saw his mocking grin from the corner of his eye

"For a woman who six months along...she moves fast"

Dean snorted at the false note of support in Michael's voice.

After so long...

She spun her around sensing him move in her direction, his heart working triple time.

Then her face came into view for the first time.

Suddenly he froze.

They were different. The eyes. Mary's were always determined, loving with a dash of innocence. Who ever this was her eyes were determined. Without love or innocence. There was something in the depths of her eyes...

Then he snapped out of it, the entire face coming into his vision.

She blinked, to his surprise managed not to scream and moved. Swiftly. Calmly.

Then unexpectedly he was on the ground, a gun pointed into his face, a foot on his Adam's apple.

The girl in her early 20's, the girl from the dinner that caught Sam's eye, glared down at him.

"What the fuck do you think your doing, Winchester?"

"How bad can it be?"

The dipper opened and his nose was introduced to the worst smell on his planet. Not during 20 years of hunting did he smell something this bad. And coming from a man that used to dig up graves that said a lot.

Throwing the ruined dipper away he grimaced.

"Seems you were skipped by Winchester fact of life: Our shit don't stink" he glanced at the cute face. "But since you are so cute and obviously possess the Winchester charms that skipped Sammy I'll let it slide"

"He-it was right"

It took Sam a moment to catch up with the words, snapping him out of shock at seeing his brother packing.

"He-" but Dean just continued rumbling while he pushed clothes to the bag.

"I do need you and Dad more than you need me"

Sam stared at him for a beat, in shock, "Dean! What are you saying! He was just trying to hurt you!"

Silence was the answer to his words.

Slowly his older brother turned to him, expression tired, voice even. "Everything you ever wanted I gave you. You wanted that ugly Spiderman t-shirt that cost 200 bucks, I got job as a newspaper boy to buy it for you. Dad told me big boys don't cry...so I didn't cry at mom's Funeral," he turned back to the bag, "Every damn thing you wanted and needed I gave you" his voice cracked on the last word, his composure breaking, "But that ends here and now"

"Dean"

But unlike every other time his brother ignored his plea. Instead he kept on pushing his stuff in the duffel.

"After over 20 years I'm going to live for myself"

Swallowing both in fear and guilt when he saw the bruise on his brother's face as he turned to the dresser to grab another shirt.

"Don't do this"

Dean's jaw clenched, but he didn't even look in his direction. The silence was what scared Sam the most.

"We can move past this"

His brother stayed in place and for a moment Sam thought he managed to reach him. But then Dean came back to life, grabbed his jacket and bag and moved past him. Sam's hand stopped him.

"Dean?"

His soft tone in which he spoke surprised him because he used to use it when he was truly lost. The tone of a child that needs recurrence from his father or big brother that everything will be alright. That no matter what they had each other.

Dean finally turned to him, his fist turning white as he clenched the duffel. His eyes weren't angry, they were tired and much to old for the age his brother was.

Ripping his arm out Sam's hold Dean swallowed.

"Don't bother Samuel"

And then he was gone. Sam was frozen in place. Never, no matter what he did or said did his brother call him Samuel.

The doors slammed shut after Dean and a four years older Sam Winchester sat up with a start.

It was bright. Dean hated bright. Bright usually meant trouble.

Usually for him.

"Paranoid as ever"

He spun around, his breath catching.

"Samantha"

His wife in all her healthy, normal, glory smiled.