Disclaimer: refer to chapter one

NOTE TO READERS: Well, this chapter isn't as long as the last, but an update is an update, right? I hope you like it. Let me know what you think, thanks!

Chapter Thirteen

Thorns

By Dawn Nyberg

"…I wear my crown of thorns upon my liar's chair, full of broken thoughts I cannot repair, beneath the stains of time the feelings disappear, you are someone else, I am still right here …" Lyric excerpt by Johnny Cash, Hurt

John stood in the doorway to his baby son's room, and there was Sam. He was standing over by the bay window in his room looking out the window. John found himself remaining perfectly silent as he watched his son. Sam was standing on his own two feet, and it too John's breath away. It was now or never, "Sammy?" His was voice soft and gruff. He watched his son turn and noticed the unsteady gait of his son's left as he pivoted. John began to walk closer to his son, and stopped near the bed.

"D…d… dad!" Sam stood looking at his father, "You're h…h…here!" Sam took a step toward his father, and forgetting in his excitement that his legs didn't always want to work in unison, he stumbled as his left leg didn't follow suit with the right, and he began to fall. John rushed forward and caught Sam as his son pitched forward. He hadn't prepared himself as well as he thought at being told Sam had a speech deficit. He was Sammy, but the tall-tell signs of his brain injury still apparent in his walk and speech.

"I got ya," he soothed. "Here," he helped his son regain his balance. "Let me help you to the bed."

"Nah, D…d… dad, I got it. I'm o…o…o…kay." Sam assured. He studied his father for a long silent moment as he sat on the edge of his bed with his legs dangling over. "You look g…g… good," he offered suddenly. The youngest Winchester was simply too surprised to process the fact his father was standing in front of him, after seven months of being MIA. He had a lot to say, but the words just seemed to be frozen inside, along with a lot of questions. John grinned sheepishly.

"Yeah, well, it's amazing what a hot shower and a shave will do for you." He replied. "But, Sammy, look at you," his eyes gleaming with pride. Sam ducked his head, but John was awarded with something he knew he didn't deserve, a dimpled-lopsided grin from his youngest child. John held met his son's eyes and an unspoken request must have been readable in John's eyes because nodded ever so slightly, and John knew it was okay to hug his son. John stood in front of Sam and pulled his sitting son against him, and hugged him. "It's good to see you Sammy. Damn good."

John pulled away from Sam and stepped back surveying his child. "W…w…what?" Sam asked with trepidation.

"Nothing," John replied. "It's just…" he paused for a moment to gather his thoughts. "Are you up for a walk? I mean, I saw some nice walking paths outside. I mean, can you? It's not too much is it? I'd like to talk to you about some things. Stuff that needs to be said" Sam felt both a need to have whatever conversation his father wanted to have because John Winchester didn't go for the heart to heart very often, almost never, but he was also afraid of the unknown implication behind the request to take a walk and talk.

"Not t…t… too fff…far, u…u…usual…ly go with D…D…Dean." Sam took a breath to slow his speech down; he didn't want to stutter anymore than he had to. He could see in his father's eyes that it bothered the man, made him uncomfortable. But, as hard as he tried to stop the feelings of anxiety slowing growing in him he knew what would soon follow; broken words and fragmented sentences. And whether John or Sam were ready for it Sam was about to have a speech meltdown. John felt the mood shift and could see Sam tense.

"Sammy, you okay?" Sam nodded not trusting his voice. John spotted the three-prong cane near his son's bed. "Should we take that with us?" He said as he walked over and got it for his son. Sam remained quiet. "Sam?" John put the cane down and watched his son. "Something wrong? Sam?" He felt a panic start to well up, "Sam, talk to me," his tone suddenly dropped an octave and switched into a drill sergeant tone, and he hadn't meant to, but that was all it took … Sam shattered.

"I want talk. W…w…words jump. You not like. I sss…see in yy…your fff…face." He took a shuddering breath. "Www…why not hhh…here bbb…befff…be…fore? Dean mmm….mad at yyy…you. Not ttt…tell me www…why."

"Sam calm down, son," John didn't know how to react. He didn't know what his son needed. And, he was scared shitless right now.

"No!" Sam shouted. "I want talk. I sss…see you ttt…think I'm ddd…dam…aged."

"No Sammy, it's just. I didn't know what to expect that's all. I spoke to the doctor the other day on the phone she told me how well you were doing. You're not damaged son," John tried to soothe his distraught child. "It's just that I thought … I mean , the doctor's at the hospital said …" John took a deep breath. Damn I didn't want to do it this way, he thought to himself. "They said you'd never recover. They said there was no hope. I shouldn't have believed them … I was a fool …" Sam interrupted.

"You llll…leave cause doc..tor say I nnn… not get bbb…bet…ter! You nnn…not want sss…son that ccc…can't hhh…hunt. You think bbb…broken." he looked at his father, and John saw his young son's eyes. They were both horrified and scared. "Nnn…now I kkk…know why Dean mmm…mad. He not ttt…tell me bbb…before."

"Sammy, please," John begged. He felt the situation spiraling out of control. "I'm not asking for forgiveness or even understanding. I don't deserve it, I don't." John saw Sam look at him, but he remained quiet. "I made an awful mistake leaving you boys all those months ago. I can't get that time back, I know that. I've been a lousy father to both you boys … I admit that. And, you deserve better, and I want to be that for you and Dean." John took in a long breath.

"I didn't leave because I thought you were broken and couldn't hunt Sammy. You're my son. I wasn't strong enough Sammy, to accept what the doctors were telling me. They said you needed to be in a facility that could care for you long term. They said you'd never walk or talk. That'd you never acknowledge your brother or me or be able to care for yourself. I couldn't stand by and watch you be anything less than Sam. I had hope. I kept it for weeks Sammy, but the doctors … their words finally broke me. I gave up. Everyday I sat by your bed and just saw the shell of the person that used to be my son. I'm the parent, I should have been stronger, but I wasn't. I gave in and made plans to have you transferred to a place, but Dean…" He saw Sam's eyes grow intense. "Dean never lost hope. He hated the doctors. He believed you could get better. He was right. I was so very wrong…"

"Sss…send ttt…to what ppp…place? Hhh…here?" John's eyes were sad, and he shook his head no.

"Not here," John offered, and saw that Sam wanted more. "That's why Dean is upset with me Sam. He's mad I left, but more because I believed the doctors, and I was going to have you placed in a facility that would care for you," he hesitated. "A long term care facility." Sam's eyes widened in abject horror at his father's words. He understood what long term care meant.

"You www…want to sss…send mmm…me to an in…instit…institu…tion?"

"Sammy, you gotta understand the doctors said there was no hope, and that you'd never be accepted into a rehab because there was no chance for a meaningful recovery. But, they were wrong. I was wrong for losing faith. Look at you now," he encouraged. "It's a miracle. And, Dean he got you into this place."

"How here?" John's face became solemn.

"Because you wrote down Dean's name on your paperwork before you collapsed. You gave him authority to make your health and care decisions. And, once they knew that then Dean was the only one to make decisions for you. My plans to send you to a care facility were cancelled … Dean wouldn't permit it. Sam, I'm so sorry, that I lost faith. I was coming back to you and Dean when I found out about how well you were doing when I spoke to the doctor. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. But, I knew I had made a horrible mistake leaving you boys, and I was coming back to face whatever was waiting … even if you hadn't improved I was coming back to be your father and Dean's. Please, I just need you to hear me. Like I said I'm not asking for forgiveness, just another chance with you boys. To make things right."

"Nnn…not right. Not ever. You lll…leave cause my head hhh…hurt. You www…want ttt…to put me in a hhh…home fff…for veg…veget…ables, cause you think I www…was one." Sam voice was near hysterical as he fought the onslaught of the emotions rolling through him.

"Please, Sammy …" John pleaded.

"You sorry sonofabitch," Dean growled from the doorway. He had heard his brother's distraught voice down the hall as he approached, and then had heard his father. "What did you tell him?" He seethed as he blew by John to walk over to Sam. "Sammy, you okay?"

"You not ttt…tell me … he www…want me … in a hhh…home for veggies." Dean put a soothing hand on his brother's shoulder and turned blazing eyes to his father.

"You're a lousy sack of shit you know that? You had no right telling him that crap. He didn't need to know. He didn't need to know that his own father gave up on him. You're a selfish bastard you know that! What? You crawling back here lookin' for some kind of redemption because it'll be a cold day in hell before that happens, old man. You walked out on us, you walked out on Sammy seven months ago because you could hack it, so go back to whatever rock you crawled out from under and get the fuck out of our lives."

"Dean, wait just a goddamn minute." John hissed. "I told Sam I'm not here for forgiveness. I know I screwed up. I was on my way back anyway, Dean, and Sam being better was just an added bonus."

"What? You think suddenly because you decided to come back to us after seven months, and that even you thinking Sam was still the same as he was when you left that suddenly that makes you father of the year!"

"No, I never said that." John kept his voice level and tried to measure his next words carefully. "I want …" he paused knowing that wasn't the right approach. "I would like to have a second chance to make things right between the three of us. I want to be the father you boys deserve." Dean rolled his eyes.

"You're fuckin' delusional!" Dean barked. "Sam doesn't need you and I as sure as hell don't. Sammy is fine …" He was interrupted by his brother.

"Don't ttt…talk about mmm…me like I'm nnn…not hhh…here." Sam shouted.

"I'm sorry Sammy," Dean offered.

"Sam?" John started. Dean tensed at the sound of his brother's name coming from his father. The man didn't even deserve to say his little brother's name.

"No!" Sam shouted as he attempted to stand. He was angry, hurt and confused as he stood to face his father. A tingling feeling ran down his left arm that he recognized all too well as he stood, a seizure was coming, but this time something was different. "Dean?" The sound of his name sounded distant and Sam voice was scared, and Dean recognized the signs of what was about to happen.

"Sammy, here sit…" but before he could finish his sentence Sam's legs buckled and Dean caught him easily. The seizure started in his left hand traveling up his left arm and rapidly spread upward, soon Sam's left side of his body was seizing, and Dean felt panic. He cradled Sam loosely against himself as half of his body jerked. Tensing and releasing. Sam's neck would spasm throwing his head repeatedly into his brother's stomach as Dean sat on the floor cradling his brother across his lap. "Help!" he screamed. John watched in horror as he saw Sam seize. He snapped out of his moment of paralysis, and ran into the hall yelling for help.

"Help, my son's having a seizure!" The panic in Dean's face was more than enough to unsettle him, and he knew something wasn't right. The doctor had explained Sam's seizures to him on the phone in detail, and obviously things had changed.

"It's okay Sammy," Dean soothed, as he held his seizing brother. Sam's eyes were filled with fear, and Dean wanted nothing more than to take that fear away. "It's gonna be okay, Sammy. We'll fix this."

"Helps coming," John panted as he ran back into the room. Dean turned up his face toward his father.

"This is your fault. You did this," he growled. "If anything happens to him … I'll kill you." And, in that moment John knew it wasn't a threat, but a solemn promise Dean would keep. He watched his oldest child turn his attentions back to his thrashing brother, and heard soft comforting words fall from Dean's lips as he held his brother.

Four Hours Later

John sat in the waiting area just down from Sam's room. Dean wouldn't leave Sam's side as he slept. He had been given an injection for his seizure, and had fallen asleep shortly after. Dr. Myer's had spoken to Dean and John separately since it was clear that Dean didn't want to see his father. John scrubbed a hand over his face as he blamed himself for the advanced seizure. The doctor had told him that Sam's emotional state might have likely caused the seizure to escalate, but also, perhaps, it was a natural progression since his most current seizure before this one had required medication to stop. Sam had been upset by the news from Dr. Myers that now he would be taking anti-convulsive medication, because the Jacksonian seizure had graduated to body involvement beyond the arm and hand.

John looked up from the floor when he heard footsteps approach stopping near him.

"Dean?" John was shocked to see his son standing there. "Is it your brother?"

"No," he said bluntly. "Why are you still here?"

"Because I want to make sure your brother is okay when he wakes up, and because I want to be here."

"Sammy would have been fine if you hadn't come back. You being here made him have that damn seizure. It's never been that bad. You're to blame. We don't want you here."

"I left Dean and that was a mistake. I should have stuck it out. I should have believed in your brother the way you did." Dean glared at his father, and John shut his mouth.

"You're preachin' to the choir." He lowered his tone to a hushed octave. "I don't give a rat's ass that you've finally figured out you fucked up. But, guess what dad? There aren't any do-overs. You can't take back what you tried to do … putting Sam in some god forsaken state run hole in the wall to rot. He needed you to be a father. He needed you to believe he still had potential. Dammit, it wasn't like I didn't see how he really was back then … I know he wasn't Sam, not when he was staring off, and didn't know I was there. I wasn't blind, dad. I saw it, but through it all, I saw what I needed to, I saw Sammy, my little brother, and that's all I needed. I believed in him, and even if the brain damage had been as severe as the doctors said it was … I still wouldn't have given up on Sam, not now, not ever. But you… you wanted to put him in that place and forget about him. And, even if he stayed the way he was for the rest of his life, Dad, he deserved better than that place." Dean had a fire in his eyes.

"I didn't want to forget about him, Dean," John offered. "I just knew we couldn't care for him on our own."

"Bullshit Dad," Dean hissed. "You said we'd visit, remember? You wanted to leave him there and the two of us to go back to hunting that evil bastard demon. You told me I would waste my life staying with Sammy. Remember!"

"I was wrong Dean. I wasn't thinking straight."

"Oh, sell that load of crap somewhere else because I'm all ready up to my eyeball's in the bullshit you're shoveling. You knew exactly what you were saying. Do you even realize what would have happened to Sam in a place like Meadowbrook? Do you? He would have had no stimulus, nothing. He would have been turned, fed and watered … like some kind of goddamned plant. He would have gotten worse been like that kid back at the hospital all because he had no constant stimulus, physical therapy in his bed, no human contact or people talking to him to draw him into the world. You were writing him off." Dean looked at his father and wanted so desperately to lash out at the man, but instead he just looked at the him and felt his hot anger seethe under the surface.

"Dean, please, listen to me …"

"No!" he hissed with venom. "You can't take back leaving me, leaving Sammy while he wasn't even completely out of his coma. You can't take back being a cowardly shit of a father and abandoning a son with a head injury and possible permanent brain damage. You don't deserve a family. You don't deserve me and especially not Sammy." John lowered his head and stared at the floor.

"You're right," he said quietly. Dean stood staring at the top of his father's head dumbfounded by what he thought he heard.

"What?"

"I said you're right," John offered. He looked up now and met his son's eyes. "You're right about it all." Dean saw the sincerity in his father's eyes, but right now all it did was make his skin crawl.

"I don't have time for this crap," he said turning back toward his brother's room. "Sam needs me, and I've wasted too much time talking to you all ready." Dean turned and left, he didn't want Sam to wake up to an empty room. John let him go, but he remained where he was. He knew he was in for a battle to get his son's back into his life, and he was in it for the long haul. Whatever Dean or Sam for that matter wanted to dish out he was going to take it because John Winchester had it coming to him, and also he thought to himself, that was what a parent was supposed to do … no matter how bad things were going to get, and he knew they would, he wasn't going to back down, he wouldn't give up on his children, his family … not this time. John Winchester wasn't going anywhere.

To Be Continued

I had come across a Supernatural VID on "youtube" that plays this song, but the link wouldn't post in this story, but if you want the link just PM me and I'll email it to you.

Thanks in advance for any review or comments you might have about this chapter!

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