Disclaimer: refer to chapter one

NOTE TO READERS: I want to thank everyone for their reviews. And, after the FFnet problems and alert delays for chapter 24 … I hope everyone received their review replies that I sent to them, if not, my apologies. Hopefully, this update will go off without a hitch. I don't want to pigeonhole myself by quoting a definite chapter count until this story is done, but I'm thinking beyond this chapter … maybe, two to three, give or take and then it will be done. I decided to post a couple days early. I didn't think you'd mind. As always, thanks for reading and reviewing!

Chapter Twenty-five

Interlude

By Dawn Nyberg

"I always thought of myself as a house. I was always what I lived in. It didn't need to be big; it didn't even need to be beautiful. It just needed to be mine. I became what I was meant to be. I built myself a life…" excerpt from Life as a House

January 24, 2009

Dean and his father were both off work for a Friday. Sam was at rehab and Dean was having an afternoon with his dad for his birthday. There was a car show in town at the convention center, so they were going to spend the morning there and then pick up Sam, and go out for a guys lunch at a new sports bar and grill that had just opened the previous week.

"Twenty-nine, son," John began as he drove his truck and looked over at his firstborn. "You make me feel old," he quipped

"Geez, thanks dad. I thought having kids was supposed to make you feel younger," he smirked. "Well, at least mentally," he mused. John reached over and flipped his son in the head with a finger.

"Ow!" Dean groused. "Child abuse," he complained. John rolled his eyes.

"Child abuse? Sorry, you're too old to claim that," he countered.

"Okay, assault then," Dean answered with a proud of himself grin. John smiled warmly.

"You know," he started. "I bet I never told you that you get your quick wit from your mother. She could turn the tides on me so quick sometimes my head would spin. You remind me of your mother a lot son." Dean looked at his dad and smiled softly.

"I do?"

"Yep, you do." Dean met his dad's eyes and their shared looks spoke volumes. John reached out and lovingly cuffed the back of his son's head as he drove. "Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Has Sammy said anything to you about why he's been doing so much rehab? He's been going a lot more lately ever since…"

"Ever since Sarah left," Dean finished. "I know. I don't know dad maybe he's working through some things and doing more rehab is helping him. And, he's been a little driven ever since that asshole at campus took a swing at him." Dean felt the familiar rage creep up again at the thought of that day. "Damn when I think about that day dad, I still want to kill the guy. If Sam had been hurt that day and Dr. Myers had found a problem I would have hunted that guy down." John looked at his son with intense eyes.

"Dean, we would have found him together, and had had a word with him before turning him over to the police for assault, but it didn't come to that, thank God. You could be right though," John hedged. "Maybe that school incident is prompting him a little, but you said he was actually doing okay holding that kid off until he slipped on that slick spot. It's just that I worry he's over doing it," John commented. "I mean he's been looking great, but I just worry."

"Yeah, but if it were all too much for Sammy they wouldn't let him. And, it's just not his PT he's increased dad … it's everything. I think it's good for him."

"Yeah," John conceded. Dean looked at his dad and nodded. "Sometimes it seems that certain words are a little easier. Has April said anything about his speech therapy progress?"

"Nah, she's usually pretty quiet about that stuff. I guess confidentiality crap or something, but come to think of it she usually gives me updates, but she hasn't said anything for about a month." Dean just assumed that Sam's progress was about the same and there wasn't anything significant to report, and Sam certainly hadn't said anything.

"Well, if there were something to report I guess she would. Maybe, Sammy asked her not to say anything," John suggested.

"Yeah, maybe," Dean replied.

"So, when we get to the convention center," John began as he diverted the conversation and the day back onto his son and celebrating his birthday. "What do you want to look at first the foreign or domestics?"

"How about the domestics and we'll work our way around the place? I hear they're having some pretty cool concept cars out this year too," Dean replied. John smiled and nodded. He hadn't seen Dean look this excited in a long time. It was nice to see his son having a life, and he recalled his wish for Dean over a year ago when he stood in front of both his boys in Salvation, Iowa. He had said he wanted 'Sam to go to school, and for Dean to have a home.' And, Dean had a home now and he enjoyed seeing the calmness that had moved into his oldest child's countenance over the past few months.

Ivy Ridge Rehab Center

"Sam why haven't you told your brother and father yet?" Mel questioned as he watched Sam run on the treadmill.

"Soon. I wanted to bb…be sure I stayed better. I'm not pp…perfect." Sam smiled at Mel.

"Perfect, what's that?" Mel chided. "You've been going gang busters on your rehab since the middle of December." Mel commented as he watched his young patient. "Sam you've been able to run on this treadmill like you're doing a marathon for the last couple weeks now. You're a machine. Yeah, your left side still has a little hesitation now and again, but you should really be proud of your progress. And I can't believe you didn't tell them about you seeing Dr. Jarvis the speech pathologist."

"Surprise," Sam answered. "I still ss…screw up when I don't concentrate or gg…get upset. I'll probably always hh…have the ss…stutter when I get worked up."

"I just can't believe you've managed to hide it these past three almost four weeks. They never wondered why you wanted to up your rehab visits during December?"

"No, they thought it was gg…good." Sam knew his reasons for upping the frequency of his rehab and seeing the speech pathologist. He wanted this for himself, his family, and as much as he tried to deny it … Sarah. He knew that no matter how much progress he made physically with his motor skills and speech he was still brain damaged. Sam knew he was fundamentally different, and that was just the way it was. He would never be the kind of normal he was before his head injury, but he thought to himself what is normal anyway? Really?

"And, man, the fact that Dr. Jarvis came on staff and specializes in severe speech deficits and is an expert in overcoming most stuttering problems, you got damn lucky. And, he was able to put you through that intense therapy in his trial acceleration protocol. I know Dr. Myers had her eye on him for a while because he's done such great work with head injury patients with speech deficits. I'm glad he came on board, and that you finally had a stroke of luck."

"Yeah, I know… I'm lucky." Sam panted his reply as he continued to run on the treadmill. "It's Dean's birthday today. I did this as much ff…for him as I did for mm..me."

"Hey, I've been meaning to ask… how's your dad doing these days since the heart attack?"

"Dad's cardiologist says he's as hh…healthy as a horse. He said he's never ss…seen someone bounce back so fully. I mean, he watches what he eats now, and ss…stays away from the caffeine. Yeah, I see him ss…splurge and have a beer now and again, but he's in great shape. They already cleared him ff…from his heart rehab. Dad's doc said he could probably run a race if he wanted too," Sam snorted. "Not that dad's the race running type. But, yeah, he's good."

"That's great," Mel replied. "You know, I was thinking the other day, and you know if you can manage to stay seizure free for a year you'll be able to drive again. That'll give you some more freedom."

"Yeah, I know, but I'm not complaining at least Dad and Dean let me take the bus as long as I tell them where I'm going and stuff. I ss..still think I could drive now. I only get small seizures once in a while, and they aren't bad. I know whh…when they are coming."

"Yeah, well don't push yourself." Mel replied. "And on the topic of pushing yourself," he began. "Why don't you slow down and walk on this thing for a while. Cool down. You make me tired just watching you." Sam smiled wide. "So, how has your family not noticed your speech has improved," Mel questioned.

"When I'm with them I try not to use the techniques that Dr. Jarvis tt..taught me and when I don't I stutter like usual." Mel shook his head.

"Shame on you," he reprimanded lightly.

"I wanted to be sure I cc…could do it before I told them. I didn't want to disappoint them after everything I've pp..put them through."

"Well, kiddo, you know there is nothing else I can do for you. You've got your large motor skills back fully. And your fine motor skills for the most part are back to normal with a few kinks here and there, but nothing that won't resolve itself if you keep at it."

"You tryin' to get rid of me?" Sam quipped.

"Nah, I love havin' ya around. But, you've graduated basically and it's time to send you on your way, so to speak." Mel reached up and patted Sam on his shoulder as he walked on the treadmill. "You know when I think back to a few months ago and when you collapsed," Mel's face was serious. "You really scared me that day kiddo."

"Sorry Mel. I knew I felt bad, but I sure nn…never thought I had a heart infection."

"Yeah, it was just one of those freak things," Mel offered. "So, I hear the only part of your rehab you haven't been cleared from yet is OT, right?"

"Yeah, Darlene ss…still wants me to learn some things. I know I will always hh…have some problems, but I can ask for help or ff…figure it out on my own once the OT is done. And, I still have a couple more weeks with Dr. Jarvis, but yeah, I'm bb…basically done with everything, bb…but OT." Sam paused. "You know lately I feel more nn…normal, but I know there are things I still dd…don't get. I'm not gonna be normal, but pretty damn close." Mel smiled warmly.

"You know Sam you have never ceased to surprise me from the get go. When you started to come out of your coma and engage your environment I could see a real fighter in your eyes. I knew I was going to have a feisty pistol on my hands, and boy was I right." Sam laughed as he slowed the treadmill and stepped off.

"I'm glad I dd…didn't let you down. Thanks ff…for everything Mel." Sam extended his hand and shook the man's hand firmly.

"Sure thing Sam." Sam and Mel hugged, and Sam excused himself to go shower and out on a fresh change of cloths before his family came to get him.

Sam waited out in the lobby for his dad and brother to pick him up. He was glad that Dean was having a day out with their father. They had asked him if he wanted to forego rehab for a single Friday to join them at the car show, but he knew Dean deserved and morning and afternoon to be the center of their dad's world, and especially for his birthday. He saw the truck pull in under the overhand by the lobby and Sam walked out. He could see Dean was smiling about something to their father and then he threw his head back and laughed. Sam smiled at the sight. Dean turned his head and saw his brother approaching and opened the truck door. "Come on Sammy," he called out. Sam slid into the truck. "So, how was rehab today?" Sam smiled to himself.

"Okay," he answered and continued allowing his mind to forget his training from Dr. Jarvis. "Ddd…did you and dad lll…like the car show?"

"Yeah, you should have seen some of the awesome concept cars they had there. You still up for the bar and grill?" Dean questioned looking his brother over.

"Yeah. It's yyy…your bbb…birthday." Dean smiled. "You ggg…got a date with April ttt…tonight?"

"Yeah," Dean smiled. "She wants to make me dinner." Sam made this kissing sound with his lips and Dean blushed as he reached over and lightly shoved his brother's head with his hand.

"Hey!" Sam complained.

"Boys," John warned in the tone Sam and Dean recognized from their youth. It was that same voice their dad would use in the Impala when driving to hunts and they'd start in on each other. It was John's infamous don't make me have to stop this car voice. Both boys looked at their father and laughed. John just shook his head with a mild grin.

April's Apartment, 11:00 PM

She curled up against Dean warm under the crisp sheets. She traced a single finger along his sternum as he reached a hand up and affectionately brushed her long hair out of her face. "Did you like your dinner?" she whispered as she brought her face up to Dean's and kissed him before he could answer. When they pulled apart he smiled.

"I told you I thought it was delicious, but I gotta say," he began with a broad Dean Winchester smile. "Dessert puts dinner to shame, and on that note," he whispered with a sly smile as he began to nuzzle her neck. "I'm thinkin' seconds for the birthday boy are in order." April laughed.

"Oh really," she cooed. "Hmm…" she replied as she snaked her body on top of his and sat up straddling him for a moment before she bent down and began to explore his chest with her mouth slowly working her way up to his face. And, when she reached his lips she hovered for a long moment, and grinned. His hazel-green eyes studied her with anticipation and hunger. "I think seconds can be arranged," she answered coyly as their lips met.

The Winchester House

John clicked the TV off and looked over at Sam's sleeping form on the couch. They had stayed up to watch The Shawshank Redemption and his youngest child had lasted almost all the way through, but succumbed to fatigue and his final dosage of seizure medication for the night thirty minutes before the movie ended. "Hey, Sammy," John spoke softly and gently. He reached over a pushed his son's unruly bangs back. "Sammy, time for bed son," John encouraged. Sam stirred and opened his eyes.

"I mm…miss the end," Sam complained with a sleep inflected voice.

"It's okay sport. The channel mentioned about an encore showing tomorrow afternoon, if you want to watch it. Come on let's get you in bed."

"I'm nnn…not ten dad," Sam replied with a small smile as he got up from the couch. He looked at the clock on the wall and then back at his dad. "Dean not home." John smiled at his son with a knowing tell-tale grin. "April's, huh?" Sam said with a grin.

"All night would be my guess kiddo," John replied with a look of amusement. "He'll probably roll in sometime tomorrow morning." Sam nodded. Sam walked into the restroom and brushed his teeth. He was already in his sweat pants and t-shirt he intended to sleep in. He stared in the mirror and felt torn. He was happy his brother had finally reclaimed his life and was actually dating someone, but part of him was envious because he wanted to be with Sarah and couldn't allow himself because of the demon. He had meant to try his speech techniques at home tonight, but felt like he'd take away from Dean's birthday, so he had decided to do it tomorrow. He chastised himself silently for even allowing one moment of envy toward his happy brother. Dean deserved to be happy. He had been the glue to this family his whole life, and now it was his turn to get something back. Sam came out of the bathroom and noticed his father coming down the hallway from the family room.

"Just checking the protection charms," John replied. "Old habits son," he mused. "Even though it's been quiet we can't get complacent. You ready for bed?"

"Yeah," Sam surveyed his father as the man partially followed his son into his bedroom. "What you ggg…going to tuck mmm…me in?" Sam laughed.

"No, smart ass. I just wanted to say goodnight and make sure you put your monitor on," John answered. John watched Sam put his pulse-ox monitor on and nodded with approval. "Look I know you're good about remembering, but I guess I just like to see it on you," he hedged. "Sweet dreams Sammy," John said with a warm look on his face. "See you in the morning."

"'Night dad." John turned off the light in Sam's room and closed the door behind him with a quiet click.

John sat up in his bed scanning the shadows and listening to the sounds of the house. He looked at the illuminated numbers of his bedside clock, it was 4:30 AM, and he was certain something had awoken him, but what. He tossed his covers aside and climbed out of bed clad in sweats and a grey t-shirt with the auto shops logo on the front. He reached into his nightstand and pulled out his loaded 9mm pistol. He stood in the hallway listening and heard nothing, but silence. He started to wonder if maybe the remnants of a dream had awakened him and was playing tricks with his psyche. He wandered around the house with his hunter senses reaching out to detect any threat. He found nothing. John wouldn't go back to bed without checking on Sam, so he turned the knob on his son's door and entered quietly. His youngest was sleeping soundly curled on his side with his head nestled partly on his pillow and in the crook of his arm. John pulled the fleece blanket up and covered Sam back up. His baby boy had always been a blanket tosser and apparently that was something you didn't outgrow.

Finally, sleep worked its way back over John and he relaxed.

Mid-Morning, the Winchester House

Sam sat at the kitchen table surfing the net on the laptop while his father read the paper across from him. Both men had woken up a little earlier and had breakfast all ready, and now they were just enjoying the quiet of the morning. The rumble of the Impala was distinct and John lowered his newspaper to share a glance with his youngest. Sam grinned and went back to his laptop. Dean came in the kitchen door from the garage. His family looked up at his entrance.

"Morning son," John commented evenly. "Late night?" Dean cleared his voice.

"Yeah, you know…" Dean responded with a grin.

"Was dinner good?" Sam asked his brother. Dean smiled at the thought of his dessert.

"Yep, I can't complain."

Dean poured himself a cup of decaf coffee and joined his family at the table. Sam surveyed his brother and father casually and decided this was as good a time as any to try speaking. "So," he began tentatively. Both John and Dean looked at Sam.

"Yeah, kiddo," John spoke for himself and his oldest.

"Hh…has April told you about ss…speech therapy?" Sam let out a frustrated sigh as his nerves toward his announcement were influencing his ability to try and not stutter. He took a deep breath.

"No, she hasn't said anything. Why? Something wrong?" Dean asked as he shared a concerned glance with his father. "Should April have told me or dad something?"

"No, I haven't bb…been seeing her," Sam answered. "I thh..thought she might have said something."

"What?" John spoke before Dean had a chance.

"I ss…stopped speech therapy with her," Sam replied. He needed to get control of his nerves.

"You what?" Dean spoke suddenly. "Sam, you can't, you…" Sam raised a hand up to stop his brother. Dean closed his mouth and just looked at his brother.

"She doesn't know why," Sam spoke carefully. "She thinks I jj…just changed days for speech days, but I've bb…been seeing someone new." Dean and John just stared at Sam. "Dr. Jarvis is a new speech pathol…ogist at the center. He special…izes in head trauma with speech problems … especially with stuttering. I wanted to surprise you and dad. I still screw up if I don't concentrate or get upset, but…" Sam stopped talking as he saw a smile creep up at the edges of Dean's mouth.

"Say something else Sammy," Dean urged. John stared intently at his youngest son.

"Like what? I could ramble all day if you want …" Sam was cut off suddenly as his brother quickly stood and pulled his brother up out of his seat and pulled him into a bear hug.

"Hot damn Sammy," Dean was beaming as he stepped back from his little brother. "You sneaky bastard," Dean replied. "That's why you upped your rehab, huh? So, you could see this speech dude at the center."

"Partly," Sam replied.

"Partly?" John chimed in.

"I can run on the tt…treadmill now. My left side only has a little trouble now."

"Run?" John questioned with uncertainty. "Really, son?"

"Yeah, Mel says I'm a machine. But," Sam thought he should provide his family a reminder to his earlier statements. "I still have a little tt…trouble with the left side, but mostly, yeah, I can rr…run. And, my speech isn't perfect, but if I try hard I can hold back the stutter most of the time. I'm not perfect, bb…but better." It was John's turn to stand and envelop his baby son in a warm embrace.

"I've been so proud of you Sammy, but this I have no words for it. All your hard work," he replied gently. "You and your brother both make me proud. I'm damn lucky to have you both." Dean watched his father hug his brother and he felt pride for his family and the strong strides they had made as a real family since John came back into his and Sammy's life. Dean felt quiet inside; he had his family and in the midst of the chaos and upheaval of the past year … Dean Winchester found himself a life.

The family moment was interrupted by the kitchen phone ringing. John looked at his watch. "Who calls at 9:30 on a Saturday morning?" The boys sat back down at the kitchen table as their father went to answer the phone. Dean was still beaming at his little brother.

"Maybe it's April?" Sam replied with a knowing smile directed at his brother. Dean chuckled and shook his head.

"Nah, she had a family thing today across town."

"Hello?" John spoke. "Joshua?" He replied as he glanced at his boys across the kitchen.

The simple name brought both Dean and Sam's eyes up and they met their father's eyes briefly. Dean shifted a nervous look to his little brother … the supernatural had just come calling again.

To Be Continued

As always, I appreciate each and every reader that takes the time to review. And, also I wanted to say thank you to each reader that has stuck with the story since it began and continues to stay with it for each new chapter. It is my hope to have this story done in another 2 to 3 chapters. And, whether or not you leave a review or your thoughts when a chapter is posted … I'm still quite thankful for you as a reader.

Read and Review!

Side Note: I hope I'm not the only one just about to implode from anticipation for the season 2 premiere this Thursday, September 28! I'm giddy with excitement.