Next chapter! :)

"What do you mean, you felt something?" John asked.

He was still in his hospital bed – and mildly pissed about it – and Adam, Sam, and Clint stood around him, Sam having just told their father what had happened in Dean's room.

Sam looked slightly frustrated with himself at not being able to explain things coherently.

"I mean it felt like, like Dean." Sam tried to elaborate. "Like he was there, just out of eyeshot, or something. I don't know if it's my psychic thing, or what, it… But do you think it's even possible? I mean, do you think his spirit could be around?" His face gave away the desperation that he had for a positive answer.

"Anything's possible," John admitted.

Clint scratched his nose absently.

"I don't think you sensing him had anything to do with your weirdo psychic stuff, because I definitely felt something, too." He informed his younger brother.

Adam shrugged.

"I didn't notice anything too weird," he said.

Laura had gone to a hotel (Clint's S.H.I.E.L.D. salary allowed him to actually stay in places other than motels), and only John and his sons remained in the hospital with Dean.

Sam's face was set in determination.

"Well," he said, "there's only one way to find out." He walked towards the door.

"Where are you going?" John asked him.

Sam turned around to face his father.

"I gotta pick something up. " he said, and his voice was a little cold. "I'll be back."

"Have fun, Terminator," Clint muttered under his breath, and Adam snickered a little at the reference.

John sighed.

"Wait, Sam," he called after the tall young man, and Sam stopped, looking at him impatiently. "I promise I won't hunt this demon. Not until we know Dean's okay."

Sam considered him for a moment before nodding and leaving the room, shutting the door behind him and leaving John alone with his other two sons.

For a while, the silence in the room was absolutely suffocating. Adam looked uncomfortable as Hell – he didn't really feel like talking to the dad that he barely knew – and Clint just didn't know what to say. Finally, he couldn't take it any longer, and brought up a subject from earlier that day.

"So, my father was a stubborn jackass like you and Sam, then." He said conversationally, and John's gaze snapped to his.

Adam looked at his oldest brother, a little confused.

"But, he's your da- oh, right," he said. "Forgot you're adopted."

Clint and John shared a short chuckle at that.

"He was a piece of work, I'll admit." John answered after a while. "We argued about stupid things – I think I told you I hadn't seen him since my wedding?" Clint nodded and he continued. "He drank too much when we were young, stopped when he met your mother and had you and Barney. He got drunk at the wedding reception." He gave a humorless laugh.

Clint vaguely remembered that his father had a drinking problem in life. Barney and he had hidden in the closet of their parents' bedroom as their mother and father had yelled at one another downstairs in the kitchen. He closed his eyes as the mostly faded memory played in his head.

"I remember that he drank," he said quietly. "It's one of the few memories I have left of him. Kinda sad, ain't it?"

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, and his left hand touched the smooth leather of his wallet.

"Oh!" he suddenly remembered. "I wanted to show you something, Dad."

He pulled the wallet out of his pocket and removed a small photograph from inside the folds. He handed it to John, who held it lightly in the hand that wasn't covered in tubes.

John's mouth twitched upwards in a smile.

"Is this your boy?" he asked, and Clint grinned.

"Yeah," he said. "That's Cooper. He'll be a year old in a couple of months."

John handed back the photo, and the three of them didn't speak much after that. After a little while, Adam stretched and said, "I think I'm gonna go see Dean. Er, if that's okay?" He was still unsure of the inclusion in his newfound family, but John smiled and nodded at him, and he left the room.

Clint sat in a chair next to his father's bed, tapping his fingers on the armrest absently.

"It's okay," his father said suddenly. "You can leave me alone to go see Dean."

Clint cast him a look.

"You sure you won't get lonely, old man?" he asked him, and his father chuckled a bit.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Go on, get out." He leaned back against his pillows and closed his eyes as his adopted son left the room.

Adam was sitting at Dean's bedside when Clint entered the room. His youngest brother appeared not to have noticed him, and Clint gave a sad smile. It was the first time that Adam was meeting Dean, and Dean wasn't even awake. Their family was all kinds of screwed.

"I never even knew that I had a brother, let alone three," Adam said, startling Clint a little. He didn't realize the kid knew he was there. "And now I find my brother, just as he's dying." He gave a short, bitter laugh, and his shoulders sagged.

It hit Clint that this boy had known too much death for such a young age. First his mother, and now the brother he'd never known he'd had.

"Well, welcome to the Winchester family, where everyone gets screwed one way or another" Clint said dryly. "And Dean's not dying." He added as an afterthought.

Adam said nothing, but the older blond could almost taste his doubt. He said nothing more on the matter, though, because Sam had entered the room with a large brown paper bag clutched in his arms.

"What've you got?" Clint asked his younger brother curiously.

"I think maybe Dean's around," Sam confided in his brothers.

"Okay…" Adam said hesitantly. He still didn't know much about the supernatural, so he wasn't going to question his brother.

"And if he is – don't make fun of me for this, guys – but, um, there's one way we can talk." Sam continued.

He reached into the back and pulled out a box with the label Mystical Talking Board.

"Really?" Adam said with skepticism. "Those things work?"

Clint shrugged at him as Sam circled the bed and say cross-legged on the floor, opening the box and setting the board up in front of him. He looked at his brothers expectantly, and with a roll of his eyes, Clint motioned for Adam to sit down and place his hands on the planchette.

"Dean?" Sam said when all three of them had at least one of their hands touching the planchette. "Dean, are you here?"

"This is such a load of bull," Adam muttered under his breath, but let out a little squeak when the pointer moved without any of their aid and stopped on 'YES'.

Sam gave a relieved laugh, and Clint sighed, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.

"It's good to hear from you, man." Sam said. "It hasn't been the same without you, Dean."

"Uh," Adam said, looking at the board. "Hi, Dean. You don't know me, but I'm your brother. Half-brother. Clint found me. So. Yeah."

The pointer moved, stopping briefly at H and then at I. 'Hi.'

Adam gave a small smile, and Clint used his free hand to ruffle the kid's hair, and he ducked out from under him, scowling lightly, though his eyes showed that he didn't mind, much.

The planchette moved again, sliding from letter to letter. Clint frowned, keeping track of the letters that it stopped on.

"Dean, what?" Sam uttered in surprise.

"H, U…" Clint tilted his head, trying to figure out what Dean was trying to convey to them. "Hunt? Hunting?"

"What, are you hunting?" Sam questioned, and the pointer moved to 'YES' once more. "It's in the hospital, what you're hunting? Do… do you know what it is?" The planchette didn't move, and Sam looked to Clint in distress. "Did he leave?"

Clint shook his head.

"Nah, you're just asking too many questions, I think." He answered. "Here, let me give it a go. Dean, is it in the hospital?"

'YES.'

"What is it?"

R, E, A, P,

"A reaper." Sam breathed, ignoring Adam's look of bewilderment, he continued. "Dean. Is it after you?" The pointer slid to 'YES' again.

"If it's here naturally," the oldest Winchester brother said in a low voice, "there's no way to stop it."

"Man, you're, um," Sam was having trouble getting the words out, and he removed his hands, standing and pacing around the room. "No. No, no, no, um, there's gotta be a way. There's gotta be a way," he repeated himself. "Dad'll know what to do." He left the room, leaving Clint and Adam with the board.

Adam followed Sam's departure with his eyes, nervously watching the door.

"Um," he said finally, "Should we follow him?"

Clint put a hand on his youngest brother's shoulder.

"No, you remember that screaming match they had earlier." He replied. "It's best not to get in between them." He turned his gaze back to the talking board. "Dean, I'm gonna put this away, 'kay? Goodbye."

The planchette swiped over the 'GOODBYE' written on the board, and Clint folded it up, returning it to its box.

"At least we know he's around," Adam offered. "And that he's trying to come back."

They stood, and Clint put an arm around his little brother.

"Yeah," he agreed. "That's true."

Word Count: 1,611 without A/N