AN: thanks for the reviews! Keep them coming!

This chapter: Dean sees Daddy!Winchester for the first time.

Chapter 9

Warning: hurt!dean; see previous warnings

fear...rope...cold hard tile...large dirt stained hands...

Dean jerked awake a few hours later. Sam had dozed off, but startled when he heard Dean panting and shaking.

"Hey." He sat up as he leaned towards her. "You okay?"

"Yeah." She answered in a raspy voice as she forced herself to settle.

"Did you have a bad dream?" He asked with concern.

"No." She said quickly as she looked away for a moment. When she turned back to Sam, she noticed his furrowed brow. "I'm fine. Just cold." She tried to shift in bed, but groaned.

Sam stood up to aid her. "Are you in a lot of pain?" He asked.

Dean did not like to admit it, but she reluctantly nodded her head. Her body was in agony. Everything from her neck down hurt.

"The nurse just stepped out, let me go get her." He said and began to turn away, when he felt Dean's tiny hand weakly grab his arm.

"No!" She said quietly, but forcefully. She cursed herself for her abruptness. "Stay."

"Okay." Sam answered gently as he sat down. "I'm not leaving you, Dean. You know that, right?" His eyes narrowed when she did not answer. "Right?"

"Yeah." She eventually answered as he grasped her hand. She let her eyes drift closed as she concentrated on the calmness she felt with Sam by her side.

After some time, Dean spoke. "Where are we?"

"In a hospital." Sam answered and then smiled when he saw Dean give him a 'duh' look. It was the most Dean-like thing Sam had seen in a long time. It warmed his heart. "We're in LA."

"LA?" She asked with shocked eyes. "How?"

"You were flown here after we found you." Images of her bruised and battered body flooded his mind again. "God, Dean. I'm so sorry..."

Her heart melted at the broken look on her little brother's face. "It's okay, Sammy. I'll be fine." She tried to reassure him.

Sam sat, amazed that in her condition, Dean still managed to take care of his feelings. Always the big brother. "Don't put on a front with me, Dean. They hurt you. It's okay to need help." He worried when he saw Dean gaze down.

"I'm fine..." She responded.

Sam looked worriedly at his brother. Although he was pleased to see her awake and more coherent, she seemed fragile and fearful. He was not sure how she would handle the news that their father was there. But, Sam knew John was eager to see Dean. He took a deep breath. "Dean?"

"Uh?" She said drowsily.

He dropped his head for a moment, before looking directly at her. "Dad's here." He watched as Dean's eyes fully widened. She was staring at him with betrayal in her eyes.

"You promised." Her voice cracked as she felt her eyes water.

"I know, Dean. I didn't call him. After Mason, Stephen Foster called Bobby. Bobby called dad. He showed up after I found you." Sam trailed off.

Her tone fell to a whisper. "I don't want him to see me like this."

"I know, Dean. But, he is really worried about you. He's been here the whole time." He watched as Dean's shoulders slumped in defeat. She knew there was no way around it. She nodded her head, but said nothing. Sam stood and spoke quietly. "I'll get him." He left the room.

When Sam arrived at the waiting room, John stood up quickly. "How is he?" The eldest Winchester asked.

"She's awake and talking." He hesitated. He did not want to hurt his dad's feelings, but he did not want him blindsided either. "After Dean's curse, dad, she didn't want me to call you." He continued when John did not answer. "I think Dean was embarrassed." He paused. "Just be easy on her, Dad."

"Do you think I'm that insensitive, Sammy? For God sakes, Dean was raped and tortured and you think I would give him a hard time?"

"No! That's not what I meant." Sam shook his head. So many of their conversations ended up in like this. He sighed. "Just...look...I'll wait here." He said as he sat down.

John bit his tongue before he would speak again and say something he regretted. He was torn up about Dean and troubled at how to handle it. Not only did Dean almost die, he was now a woman. He pushed those thoughts out of his head when he entered her room. He was pleased to see the tubes out of her mouth. She was sitting up slightly. She looked so peaceful as she appeared to be sleeping. The nurse motioned him in. John sat down on the bed and watched her for a few moments before speaking.

"Dean?" He said in his low, melodic voice. Dean's eyes opened as she turned to her father.

"Dad." She answered in her hoarse voice.

"Glad you're doing okay..." He trailed off when he almost added 'son'. What does he call him now? He suddenly felt uncomfortable as Dean's emerald green eyes stared at him. She was not speaking. "Are you in pain?"

She nodded. "A little."

"Well, we'll make sure you're comfortable." He tried to smile.

Dean dropped her head as she spoke again. "Why?" She whispered.

"Why, what, Dean?" John was confused.

"Why are you here?" Dean needed to know. After six months of searching and wondering, his father ditching him hurt.

A hurt look fell upon John's face. "How can you ask me that, Dean? I'm your father."

Dean fought to keep her quiet voice steady. "You left me. Without a word." She closed her eyes for a moment to try to fight her emotions. "What did I do?"

John's heart sank at her words. He never wanted Dean to blame himself. The guilt the eldest Winchester felt was overwhelming. John turned to the nurse. "Pam, could we have a few moments alone?" She nodded and stepped out. John followed her out of the corner of his eye to make sure she could not hear them. He turned his attention back to Dean. He spoke calmly. He needed to reassure her. "Dean, I need you to listen to me. You didn't do anything wrong. I'm getting close to finding the Demon." He paused. "I thought it was best to separate to keep you safe. If it tried to go after you, I didn't want it to use you to get to me. You have to understand that Dean. " He hesitated and shakily grasped Dean's thin hand. "None of that matters right now, though. We have to get you better, okay? I'm so sorry you got hurt."

Dean pulled her hand away. "I'm fine." She said with a tense tone.

John worried as he looked at her. He was going to speak again when the doctor walked in. "Hello, Dean. John."

"Dr. Nile." John responded.

"How are you feeling since the tube came out, Dean?"

"My voice." She touched her throat.

"That's normal. That should improve over the next week." He smiled as he walked to her bedside. He took out his stethoscope and placed it on her back after she leaned forward. "Take a deep breath." Dean complied. "Good. Your lungs sound clear. Okay, lay back gently." The doctor aided her. He touched her belly lightly. "Any pain here, Dean?"

"Some." She answered quietly.

"Well, don't be timid about asking for pain medicine. Does your head hurt?" Dean shook her head. "Any confusion?"

"A little."

"Okay, I have a few simple questions to ask. They sound silly, but bare with me." Dean nodded her head. "What's your first name?"

"Dean."

"Do you know where you are?"

"A hospital."

"What year is it?" He then asked.

Dean had to think for a moment. "2006."

"Good, Dean. Well done. Are you having any memory problems?" He watched as she looked down and shrugged her shoulders. "That's normal after going through what you did. We'll monitor all that, okay?" He smiled kindly. "We'll try some sips of liquid today. If you continue to do well throughout the day, we may be able to move you out of intensive care tonight. My colleagues on the regular floor will assume your care." He looked at the two. "Do you have any questions?"

"No." Dean answered. She just wanted him to leave. She felt so tired and needed to rest. After the doctor departed, Dean slowly turned to her side, away from the nurse and her father and tried to sleep.

Sleep did not come easy to Dean. She was awoken often by the nurse and all the noise in the ICU. She had tolerated some ice chips and water by the time evening rolled around. She was pleased when a transporter arrived to move her to a new room. Her nurse had assured her that she could rest much better there. Dean was quiet as they pushed her bed down the long, sterile corridors. John and Sam followed behind them.

A new nurse introduced herself to Dean. She went over some basics. Dean was happy to learn the foley catheter in her bladder would be removed in the morning and that they would attempt to get her out of bed to walk. As things finally settled, John and Sam bid Dean good night. Visitors were not allowed after 8 pm. John and Sam returned to the waiting room. Dean wanted Sam to stay, but the hospital was strict about the rules.

Dean found herself drifting to sleep. Screaming...begging...laughter...taunting...

Dean darted upright and hyperventilated as she waited for her bearings to return. Sweat poured from her face as she looked around with wild eyes. She forced herself to calm down. She tried to shove those images from her mind as she grabbed for the remote. She flicked the TV on. Sleep was her enemy.

Sam awoke in the morning with a very sore neck. Spending the last few days sleeping on chairs and sofas was starting to take its toll on his muscles. He stretched his long arms and yawned loudly. He watched as his father woke up.

"Man, I need some coffee." Sam spoke.

"I'll get it." John responded. "Do you want anything to eat?"

"Not yet, thanks." John left the waiting room. Sam looked up at the clock. It was nearly 8am. He could go to Dean's room soon. After John returned, Sam spent some time savoring the taste of the fresh coffee. He needed a jolt of energy. As he stood up to walk to Dean's room, a familiar face walked in. Sam was surprised to see her.

"Carol?" He said in a shocked tone.

"Hi, Sam." The kind woman said as he gave her a hug.

"Dad. This is Officer Patterson. She was the one who helped me find Dean." She shook the eldest Winchester hand.

"Thank you." John said quietly.

Sam stomach fluttered for a moment. "No offense, but why are you here? Is something wrong?"

"We're sure it was just those three suspects that we shot. We just need Dean to identify them and give us a statement so we can close the case."

Sam hesitated. "I don't know...she's pretty shook up."

"Whatever she can give us is fine, Sam. This is standard procedure."

After thinking for a time, Sam reluctantly agreed. He walked down with her. He quietly knocked on her door. He saw her sitting up, staring at some juice and jello in front of her. "Dean?" When she looked up at him, he saw the dark circles under her eyes were worse than the day before. She looked like she hardly slept. He stood by her bed. "There's someone who needs to talk to you. She's the person who helped me find you." Sam worried at the blank expression on her face. "She needs to ask you a few questions." He paused. "Is that okay?"

Dean was too fatigued to argue. "Whatever." She said in a detached tone.

Sam gestured to the officer and she walked in.

"Hi Dean, I'm Carol. I'm glad to see you're okay." She attempted to smile. "I just have a few questions and some pictures for you to look at." She held a manila envelope in her hand. Sam picked up Dean's food tray and placed it on the ledge. Carol sat down next to Dean and gently began.

"What can you tell me about that night?"

Dean would not even look at her. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "I-I don't really remember."

"How many men were there?"

"Maybe 2 or 3."

"Do you remember how you were taken?" She saw Dean shake her head.

"Their names?"

"No." Dean's voice rose a bit. She sounded agitated. Sam watched from the side. He was becoming increasingly worried about Dean's mental health.

Carol knew that the information may be scarce. She opened up the envelope and placed two sheets of pictures on the tray table. Each one had six mugshots on them. "Do you recognize any of them, Dean?"

Dean fought within herself to not lose it. As she stared at all the mugshots, a few seemed familiar. She just wanted this over. She hesitantly and shakily pointed out three pictures and then turned her head away.

Sam looked at the officer with a pleading eyes. Carol nodded her head and gathered the pictures. "Thank you, Dean. You have been very helpful. Take care of yourself."

"I'll be right back, Dean." Sam insisted and he escorted the officer out.

When they reached the hallway, he looked at Carol. "Did that help?"

"She identified the right ones. That's what I needed."

"Maybe it's a good thing she doesn't remember much." Sam postulated.

"Regardless, Sam." Carol spoke kindly. "Make sure she receives counseling when she leaves here." She reached into her pocket and grabbed her keys.

"Thanks again for everything." Sam attempted to smile as he watched her walk away.

TBC...