Dean met up with his Dad the next night. Derek had already called him twice to make sure he was still okay. Dean smirked slightly at how much of a girl the built man seemed to be. Still, it was nice to have someone care since he hadn't heard from Sam yet. Hell, he didn't even know if the kid had made it into town okay.

Dean pulled up to the motel his dad was staying out and climbed out of his baby. His dad was already exiting his room with his duffle on his shoulder. John glanced at Dean and ordered, "Grab your gear. It's a dark dog of a night."

Dean nodded and headed to his trunk. He knew by John's code that they were going after a black dog. So he quickly grabbed his gear and locked up his car before hurrying to the passenger side of his dad's truck.

John already had the truck in gear and proceeded out of the parking lot as soon as Dean climbed in. Dean barely had time to shut his door. Dean snapped lightly, "Where's the fire, Dad?"

"It's a couple and they got another person yesterday," John bit back. "What took you so long? You know to head straight here when I call you."

Dean threw on his game face and submerged himself into the hunt. He knew that his dad didn't want excuses. He wanted results and Dean wasn't about to mention what really made him late because he couldn't accept what would happen. He knew there were two possible results of telling his dad that he'd been sick. Either one, his dad would take him back to the motel room and do the hunt himself which Dean wouldn't allow with one black dog, much less two. Or, two, his father wouldn't care and just tell Dean to suck it up because people were dying which was much more important than Dean's problems. Dean was already doing that so he really didn't need that lecture. Bottom line, Dean did what he was supposed to. He fell into his normal role of good soldier and back up.

They killed the two black dogs but not before Dean took a claw to the side and back. He'd also been tossed into a couple of trees, earning himself a minor concussion and some bruised ribs, again. John got a swipe to the face and left arm. Overall, it was a successful hunt.

They quickly disposed of the bodies before heading back to the motel room to clean up and get some sleep. John had Dean take his shower first while he got the rest of the gear inside. As soon as Dean got out, John jumped in and showered off quickly. Then he sat Dean down to stitch up his cuts. There was a deep one on his side and two on Dean's back that needed stitches.

After giving Dean some pain pills, he ordered him, "Lay down on your stomach and prop yourself up on your left side. That way you won't have to move." Dean took another swig of whiskey before moving into position. He took a long deep calming breath, or, at least, as deep as he could without an enormous amount of pain. Finally, Dean nodded and John got to work.

John studied Dean then offered softly as a distraction, "Heard from Sam?"

Dean tensed slightly then forced himself to relax. He still hadn't forgiven his father for what he'd said to Sam that night but knew that they had both said some things they shouldn't have. Dean finally answered hoarsely, "No."

John frowned as he continued to sew his boy back together. "Huh. I really thought he would have . . ." John paused the conversation, not the sewing. He knew that Dean was hurting over the slight. He sighed heavily, "Well, he got to Stanford alright and is already moved into his dorm room." Dean stared at him hard but John didn't make him ask. "I called in a favor." John paused the conversation again, thinking it over, then finally he cleared his throat nervously and offered, "I was thinking of taking a look. You know, since this hunt's over and all. Just checking."

Dean turned and stared at his father again. He cautioned, "Dad."

John sighed and shrugged, "I know he's made his choice, Dean, but I can't just . . . I have to see. For myself." John threw all of his focus on what his hands were doing, sewing up his eldest.

Dean thought it over for a long time then after John announced that he was done, Dean stated softly, "We'll go look but he can't know. You know that, right?" John swallowed thickly before he nodded. "We'll always be there for him but he can't know." Their eyes met and sealed the commitment between them. Dean sighed and slowly sat up, wincing at the pain from his stitches.

"Dean," John scolded as he moved to make Dean stay down.

"No," Dean argued firmly. "After I take care of you, we'll both sleep then head out."

John saw the fierce determination in his son's eyes and knew there was no reasoning with him over this. "Fine," he bit out reluctantly, "but then you sleep until I tell you to get up."

"Deal," Dean conceded quickly.

John shook his head and snarked lightly, "You get that damn stubbornness from your mother's side."

Dean scoffed sarcastically, "Sure, Dad. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"Wiseass," John insulted fondly.

"Shuddup and be still," Dean ordered smartly as he picked up the needle and thread. Luckily, his hands didn't shake while he stitched up his dad's arm. John had already taken care of his face which was thankfully free of any deep cuts. So it didn't take too long to patch up his dad.

Afterward, John got Dean settled back down into the bed before he settled into his own bed. They told each other good night then settled down into deep sleeps with the aid of the pain pills they had both taken. Of course, Jack also helped them as always.