CHAPTER 2

FOUR YEARS LATER

"Sammy! Hurry up, we're gonna be late!" Mary called to her son.

Sam came running in with nothing but his diaper on and his messy mop of hair sticking up all over the place, making Mary laugh at how adorable he looked.

She knelt and started running her hands through his hair to straighten it up and helped him pull on his pants and sweatshirt before lifting him and carrying him to the car, grabbing her purse on the way.

This was their fifth doctor's appointment this month. She was getting tired of constantly going back, not to mention how much John complained about the doctor bills piling up.

Sam had been sick ever since he was born. The doctors said his lungs had damaged tissue when he was born, causing what was called 'chronic lung disease.'

They said that it would get easier the older he got, but all it had caused was three near-death experiences of pneumonia in his four and a half years and several spread out cases of bronchitis and strep, along with a diagnosis of severe asthma early on.

Because of the condition he had always been small for his age, and even though Mary had been meaning to potty-train him for months now, every time she started to try, he ended up in the hospital with another lung infection or sickness.

They had also been told by the doctor that he wouldn't be able to attend school until he could go at least a week without needing his breathing machine.

As of now, he needed it twice a day on a good day. Mary wasn't too happy about homeschool, but she knew there was no other option.

But despite everything that came along with Sammy, Mary loved her son more than anything in the world.

But John saw it as a weakness. As a baby John thought it wasn't that bad. He figured it was over-exaggerated by the doctor and that it would go away by the time he turned 2.

Then it didn't, and the hospital bills piled up and Sam kept getting better only to get much worse than before.

But John still began grooming him to take over the garage from day one.

Sam's entire room was filled with pictures and models of classic cars and he would always set Sam right down on the beer cooler beside the Impala as he fixed it up.

Even at only a month old, he would lay there in his car seat watching intently as his dad showed him each tool and fixed every part.

Now, at four, he stood up on the cooler right with his dad and held tools and even helped tighten certain parts occasionally.

The way John treated Sam worried Mary, because even though it could be much worse, she was terrified that what happened with Dean would repeat itself with Sam.

She glanced to the backseat and her eyebrows tightened with concern at the wheezing that didn't seem to want to go away for weeks now.

Sam fell asleep in the car, not surprising Mary in the least. That was always the one way she could get him to sleep at night as a baby.

They reached the office and she gently picked him up and carried him inside, being careful not to wake him, since he had barely slept more than two hours that night, as the wheezing had been painful enough to keep him awake.

Eventually a nurse came to bring them back and she sat on the table with Sam held against her chest, his labored breathing making her want to cry, not for the first time.

She sighed and waited in anticipation for the doctor to come, knowing in her gut that, like every time before, it wouldn't be good news.

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Dean hated his job. He knew that interning in a sheriff's office wouldn't be fun, but this was hell. Unfortunately, it was a requirement for his grad studies.

He was begrudgingly doing the paperwork he had been assigned when his boss came over.

The only good part of this job.

"Hey man, I am just not feeling very good, is there any chance…" Dean began.

His boss cut him off with a wave of the hand. "Go home. Take all the time you need."

Dean smiled. "Hey, thanks so much man."

His boss nodded and he walked out slowly, trying his best to seem like he was in pain.

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The decision Dean made the next day changed his life forever. The simple decision to go to work and not take advantage of his boss and call out sick.

It would've been easy, considering he left sick yesterday, but an hour later he pulled in, ten minutes before his shift was scheduled.

He looked at his watch regretfully, knowing he could be at a bar with some beautiful women if he hadn't decided to go into work.

But he walked in and was nearly met with a punch to the jaw. He ducked at the last minute and brought his fist up into the man's stomach on instinct.

Marine instinct, his brain reminded him unhelpfully of his deadbeat dad.

He then twisted another man that came at him around and held him in a headlock.

"What the hell is going on!" He yelled.

Everyone stopped. Dean let the man go, and he stumbled away angrily, rubbing his now red and inflamed neck.

Half of the people in the entrance raised their guns, one of them yelling at him to identify himself.

"Who are you!" The guy with a suit and dark glasses yelled again.

"I'm Dean—Winchester, Dean Winchester. I work here," Dean yells with his hands up.

"Yeah, yeah, he's good," the sheriff announces, and the men finally lower their guns.

The men Dean attacked were held back and sent straight to lockup.

Sheriff Richards motioned for me to follow him to the war room where it housed a whole set-up for the men, and he realized they were FBI.

The men followed and his boss closed the door behind him, immediately saying, "Dean, what the hell was that in there?"

Dean looked around the room and everyone seemed to stare straight at him, also looking for answers.

He hesitated before answering. "My dad taught me. He was a marine, so he was always so adamant that I knew how to protect myself."

They all nodded and seemed to move back to the case, but some of them kept glancing at me with interested expressions.

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The doctor always wore a grim expression when she walked in the door. The news was almost never good, and I didn't expect much else, but I always hoped.

Sam was her favorite patient, at least she always said. He was in more than anyone else.

Sammy immediately smiled as she walked in the door and held out his arms for her and her grim expression immediately changed into a bright smiled as she pulled him into her arms.

"Hey buddy!" She exclaimed happily. "What are you doing back here again?"

Mary smiled and took Sammy back so the doctor could copy down notes.

"He's been wheezing again. It kept him up practically all-night last night and it hasn't gone away since."

The doctor frowned. "Alright. How long has the wheezing been happening? I know last week you said it wasn't too bad."

"Well, its been pretty bad all week which is what brought us back, but its been kind of on and off for the last month or so," Mary explained.

The doctor nodded. "Okay, well, you know the drill. I'm gonna need to run the tests, get the nebulizer going, the whole nine yards."

Mary smiled sadly. "Yep."

She looked down at her son and reluctantly handed him over to the doctor for the fifth time that month.

"Be good for Dr. Maddie, Sammy," she said.

Sammy laughed. "Okay, mommy."

Mary smiled and watched longingly as her son was taken away for even more treatments.

She went on her phone for a while and once again found herself lingering on Dean's name.

Since Sam had been born, they had both been so pre-occupied with hospital visits and treatments and medications that they kind of let everything else go to the back burner.

Of course, she had tried to call him a few times, but realized now that it had been over a year and not once had he picked up before that, or answered any texts.

She sighed and dialed, knowing that even if he did pick up John would never let her tell him about Sammy.

That was his one condition for allowing her to call him.

He could never know about Sammy. She knew he was worried that Dean would come and 'corrupt' Sam as he loves to say and then he would lose two sons.

She didn't know if that was true, but she figured that aside from Sam getting better, trying to form a relationship with her eldest son was the priority, not introducing the two.

"Hello?"

She stood in shock at the sound of her son's voice and for the first time she remembered how long it had been.

Nearly five years had changed him more than she could have thought.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" Dean said again.

She knew immediately that he hadn't checked caller ID.

Before he could hang up, she found her voice.

"Dean?"

All she heard was silence and for a moment she thought he did hang up and she was too late but then he answered.

"Mom?"