A/N: Next chapter. This one starts out from a new perspective, a police chief in North Carolina, but we'll be back to normal by the next chapter.

Fanfiction Writing Month: December [1260]

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Melisende Gold was the chief of police of a small town near Raleigh where John Winchester had been apprehended. She personally interrogated his colleague, Lee McCarthy. Her deputy, Tomas Salvador, took over for her at the police station so she could talk to and check on the boys. She was actually good friends with Sonny (he had taken some of her troubled boys beforehand).

The boy who had called the police station in the first place was in the hospital as well; he had gotten to the nearest payphone and frantically told the operator on the other end that his friends had been kidnapped by his violent father and another man. He told them where they were, and the police were there as soon as possible. Jaime, the boy, was recovering from a mild concussion and abrasions and was only staying in the hospital to make sure his friends were okay. Sonny and his friend Amina arrived a few hours later at the hospital.

John Winchester, during an altercation with the boys, had been shot. He was taken to the hospital as well, but the bullet had hit several major organs. He died about an hour after arriving at the hospital.

Sam Winchester, the little boy, was eleven years old and had been heavily beaten by the men with several weapons. She spoke to Sam's doctor, a woman with long auburn hair who was actually her deputy's girlfriend. Lily Salvador, the doctor, told Meli that Sam had been severely beaten with a belt and had to recover from major wounds in his back and hands; he couldn't currently use his hands because they were so swollen and broken.

Dean Winchester, Sam's older brother, was sixteen years old and had also been beaten by his father and Mr. McCarthy. He was currently suffering from a major concussion, several broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, a couple broken fingers, a broken nose, a compound fracture in his arm, a damaged windpipe, and some internal bleeding. "Combined with his medical history and current fragile state," Dr. Salvador stated, "he's in a dangerous zone right now." It had been two days since the incident, and he was still unconscious. The doctors moved Sam into Dean's hospital room because they kept discovering him leaving his room, and he tried to attack anyone who tried to stop him. So they set up a bed for him in Dean's room, but he never used it. He only ever slept in Dean's bed, curled up against his brother's side. When Lily checked on him that morning, his head rested on Dean's shoulder, and he was sleeping on his side (on his back was far too painful). One heavily bandaged hand rested on Dean's chest, and his other arm was looped around Dean's. She'd never seen brothers who were so close.

Castiel had been shot in the stomach and was dangerously close to death when they found him. The bullet had punctured a lung and the stomach. His concussion was far more severe than the others; he had internal brain bleeding and a minor skull fracture when he was admitted, but they couldn't operate on it until his gunshot wound had been fixed. Lily personally pulled the bullet out of him. He had woken up a couple times, but he'd been bleary and barely comprehensible.

On the fourth day, Cas woke up when Dr. Salvador came in to check on him. He coughed once and blinked at her. "Where…" he croaked, and she shushed him.

"Blink twice if you can understand me," she said softly. He did as he was told. She checked his vitals, and shined a flashlight in both eyes to check for pupil response and brain activity. "You seem good. You feel like talking?"

He nodded. "Where's…" he wheezed. "Dean…"

"He's in the room right next door, sweetheart."

His eyes traveled to the left and focused vaguely on the wall as though he could see Dean through it. "Can I…see…"

"Not today." She tapped the bag of fluids beside him, adding a painkiller to it. "When you're stronger."

"My…chest…"

"It hurts?"

He nodded and immediately winced. "And…my…head…"

"It'll hurt for a while, sweetheart. I'm giving you something for it, so it should get a little better, okay? Just blink for yes."

He blinked.

"Does it hurt too much to talk?"

He blinked again, lethargically.

As Lily adjusted the needle inserted at his wrist, she realized that the boy had been moving his fingers the entire time, making strange motions and symbols with them. It was strange… Lily didn't think he was deaf, but the odd movements seemed like sign language.

Some of the police tried to make Sam speak about the incident, but he didn't speak at all. He only stayed with his brother, refusing to let anyone touch him except for Lily herself, and only if someone else he knew was there, like Sonny or Amina. Jaime often visited the younger Winchester as well; they seemed like good friends. Jaime frequently played card games and board games with Sam, and a nurse named Harry would play for Sam when hand movements were necessary. Sam especially loved playing Scrabble; he could beat almost every nurse in the hospital.

On the seventh day, Dean finally woke up without any medical disruptions, and Lily Salvador brought Castiel to the Winchesters in a wheelchair and an oxygen mask. After Lily checked his vitals, she allowed them some personal time. Dean raised a weak hand and stroked Sam's soft hair; Cas noticed immediately that although Dean was physically weaker now, his eyes were full of that brightness he had when Sam was there. Sam slept on Dean's chest, breathing softly and rasping a little.

At first, Dean was sleeping, too, so Cas sat quietly beside him, watching him. Although his sleep was not undisturbed, it was calmer than Cas had seen in a long time. When Dean woke up, blinking wearily, he saw Castiel. He barely moved his head, but he turned towards his boyfriend.

Cas was too tired to speak out loud, and Dean wasn't physically able to talk, so they signed. YOU OKAY, DEAN?

Dean's signing was difficult to understand because of the cast on his left arm, but Cas was familiar with his tone and could generally understand him. OKAY ME. YOU?

OKAY. Cas adjusted his oxygen mask. AND SAM?

HE OKAY. Dean's eyes trailed off to his little brother. SIR HURT SAM.

I KNOW.

NO… SIR HURT SAM LIKE ME. BACK. He tapped his own shoulder. HAS SCARS NOW. LIKE ME.

Cas placed his hand over Dean's, and for the first time in months, Dean didn't flinch or cower. Instead, he started to cry. KILLED SIR YOU… KILL.

I'M SORRY. YES, I DID.

Dean shook his head. NO, CAS. Cas always loved Dean's sign name for him; instead of fingerspelling his name, he had created a new sign like he had for Sam. It was a combination of the sign for ANGEL and the letter C. NO SORRY YOU. YOU KILL… NICEST THING. NICEST THING EVER, CAS. He cried harder. I NO-SCARED ANYMORE. NO OF SIR. I LOVE YOU.

I LOVE YOU, TOO, Cas replied. Their fingers interlaced. YOU GONE LONG TIME, DEAN.

I KNOW. SORRY.

I MISSED YOU.

Dean stared at Cas' hand. I MISSED YOU, TOO.

Cas always went back to his own room in the end, knowing that if he was there all the time that Dean would try to stay awake to sign with him. He visited as often as he could, though.

A/N: Thanks for reading!