I think you all had the same reaction as me when you read chap 18...I hate to say it but even I cried like a baby! I went to bed with a splitting headache and felt like I was grieving which is sheer madness…now that I'm recovered I have gone back and reread some of the happier moments of their past…the barbeques, exorcising Sam (ok, not so happy) and of course the John Cusack moment. BTW I totally loved that Bonnie's last words to Dean were 'don't ever change'. Who would want him to?!
Dean never once wanted to join the WWS (Winchester Widower Society) but the powers that be just don't like to see the boys happy, I think Dylan and Logan both need to watch out in the future.
Well, the last chap still managed to have some LOL moments for me until the end but one thing the boys know how to do is angst and this is pretty depressing to say the least…everyone expects Dean to go mental are they right to be scared? As for Sam, life's no bed of roses as the story jumps in time and we see how the family are getting on with life post Bonnie and whether Sam can help Dean deal….enjoy xxx
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"I don't know what to tell you Mr Winchester but there's nothing wrong with you." Dr Beaufort told him categorically as he leaned forward over his desk.

Sam huffed and stared at him. "How can you say that when I have no feeling below the waist, I mean you poked me with all the needles and I didn't flinch did I?"

Dr Beaufort didn't normally do follow ups but he was doing this as a favour to Dr Vincent who he had a slight crush on. "You've seen the x-rays and I've done all the tests I can," He shrugged. "The rest is up to you."

Sam almost laughed. "How is this possible? I'm married to a physiotherapist and even she can't help me!" He took a deep breath and looked sideways at Brooke. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head and took Sam's hand in hers as she got involved. "It's been over three months since he got hurt and he's working out every day." She stated, "I mean there should be some improvement I know that but it's getting worse if anything."

The Doctor sighed dispassionately and took a piece of paper and a pen jotting something down. "I have a friend, maybe he can help you."

"Great." Sam reached over and took the piece of paper glancing down at it. Brooke leaned over, frowned and grabbed it suddenly from Sam's hand.

"Wait, I know this guy." She sat back and stared at the Doctor across the desk.

"Who is he?" Sam asked.

"He has an office upstairs in the Psych ward." She suddenly felt enraged as she stared at the man in front of her. "I hope you're not suggesting my husband's crazy?"

Beaufort held up his hands. "The mind is a powerful thing; it can make you believe anything is possible but it can also do the exact opposite."

"Wait, you think I need a shrink?" Sam demanded. "My mind works fine, it's my legs that don't!" He almost shouted after a second.

The Doctor took a moment and then looked at them both. "I deal in fact and the fact is everything's ok; I didn't mess up the surgery and you've done everything you should have done. So you can either wait and see what happens or you can confront the possibility that there may be a psychological reason that you can't walk."

"This is ridiculous." Sam muttered.

Brooke glanced at her husband and then looked at the Doctor unwaveringly. "Could we possibly have a moment alone please?"

Dr Beaufort glanced at his watch, he wasn't the type to hold a patients' hand and they both saw it, he was a surgeon after all. "Sure, ten minutes." He got up and grabbed a file. "I'm sorry." He shrugged before walking out.

Sam was restless and angry, he needed to move and he was obviously frustrated. He reached behind him and grabbed his tee-shirt pulling it over his head tossing it to the ground as he tore at the brace. "Get this fucking thing off me!" He shouted at her.

Brooke was calm as she stood up and moved his hands out of the way taking just seconds to tear off the Velcro strips.
Sam breathed an immediate sigh of relief and leaned forwards stretching out his spine before resting his elbows on his knees and lowering his head into his hands.

"He thinks I'm mad." He said quietly after a second.

Brooke put the brace down and took a deep breath; the last couple of months had been tough on them all but Sam wasn't coping at all well without his brother. Brooke knelt down at his side and moved one hand from his face and kissed it gently. "You're not mad."

Sam turned and stared at her with tears in his eyes. "But?"

Brooke mentally prepared herself for the onslaught and controlled her facial expression before she answered gently. "If you could walk Dean would have even less reason to stick around."

"Now you want me to see a fucking head doctor too?!" He said angrily. "You think I'm making this up because I can't live without my big brother?! Nice!"

"God, no…I don't mean it like that…" She said quickly but he was already leaving and she was shunted to one side as he made for the door. She stood up. "Sam…your shirt?" She grimaced pathetically holding it out to him as he halted for a long minute at the door. It took a while but finally he turned back around and held out a hand for it without looking at her.

Knowing she had to tread carefully she walked towards him and his hand touched hers slightly as he took the shirt from her and slipped it back over his head. Sam paused still not looking at her. "I'm not mad at you." His jaw was clenched and his nostrils flared slightly.

"I know." Brooke knew how fragile he was feeling and she knew better than anyone how he felt. "Why don't we go somewhere for a drink …just us?"

Sam was expressionless as he took her hand and kissed the back of it before letting it go just as quickly. "Ok."

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When Dean heard the metal rattle in the lock he knew someone was picking it and reached for the gun under his pillow. The safety went off as the door creaked open and Bobby walked into the bedroom.

"You gonna shoot me?"

"I was thinkin' about it."

"Go ahead, won't make no difference you ain't even seen me in two weeks and I've been here the whole time."

Dean sighed and put the safety back on as Bobby walked into the bedroom and had a good look around taking in the dirty plates, the dirty clothes and the general stink. He walked to the window throwing open the curtains and raising the sash.

"What are you doin'?"

"I think they call it an intervention now but in my day we just called it an ass kickin'."

"Save it." Dean was sat on the bed leaning against the headboard with Logan resting against his bare chest gurgling happily to himself.

Bobby looked at one of the dirty plates and picked it up gingerly indicating the mould. "Seriously?"

Dean raised his eyebrows in challenge but said nothing.

"You doin' ok Dean?" He asked sarcastically as he sat down in the one high backed chair. "I only ask 'cos we've tried sympathy and support and pretty much everythin' Oprah said and you're still bein' a dick."

"Well that's lovely Bobby but I'm good."

"Ya know you don't strike me as the kinda guy who wants to raise his son to be a pussy."

"What?"

"That kid ain't seen the light of day in weeks and you ain't let one of us hold him yet and he's what…almost three months old?" Bobby smirked "Some pretty strong apron strings you're workin' there Dean."

Dean stared at him with tired eyes. "He needs me."

"He's not the only one kid." Bobby scratched the back of his neck and sighed. "It's just a good job I don't work for child services."

"Go give 'em a call if you're that concerned…don't let me stop you but if they lay one hand on him then…"

"Then you'll what?" Bobby leaned forward in challenge.

Dean smiled slightly and kissed the top of the baby's head. Far from resenting Logan for causing Bonnie's death Dean saw him as a part of her that he refused to let go of. Not one of them had been able to get near the child or Dean in a long time and it was just getting worse as the once unbreakable head of the household retreated in on himself. Bobby had finally had enough and refused to let Dean turn into his father.

"Do you feel anything Dean?"

Dean's eyes were dead and his face was full of beard. "That a trick question?"

"Alright now you're just plain pissin' me off, at least your Daddy got angry and kicked some ass."

"Is that what you expect me to do Bobby? You want me to go on a rampage?!"

"Anythin's better than this." He looked around him. "You're just stagnating and I can't watch it any more."

"No one's askin' ya to." Dean laughed sarcastically. "All my life people were tryin' to rein me in and now? Now you want me to go mad?"

Bobby indicated a hole in the plaster wall above him that was shaped like Dean's fist. "You got it in you."

"Bite me." He said without agression.

"Hey, I'm a widower too…it sucks, I know."

He shrugged. "You were married for what...a coupla years before you managed to get her killed, try twenty Bobby."

"Yeah, no one can feel pain but you right?!" He almost shouted as he stood up. "Seein' as though you haven't asked about any of the family since I walked in I'll just give you a little run down of how we're all doin' in the land of the livin'. Johnny went with Rita to Vegas because she's so upset she ain't fit to fly on her own, I haven't seen Hope in days but I'm guessin' she's alright 'cos Luc's with her, Cole don't speak much but that's cool, he already lost one mother to childbirth so what's another? Ya know that if he smokes enough pot then he may just get through the day without crying." Dean glared at him but Bobby wasn't done yet. "How about Dylan? You remember that kid…always laughin' and runnin' about? His head's so filled with everyone else's pain he's on medication but then why would you care that your seven year old nephew is on happy pills and walks around like a zombie mosta the time?"

Deans jaw clenched and he tried to control his temper. "What about Sam?" He asked quietly.

"Sam?" Bobby glanced down at his hands sadly shaking his head. "He misses you like crazy and ya know what? You're a bastard for what you're doin to that man. It's just a flight of stairs for you Dean but to him it may as well be a freakin' mountain that separates you, shutting him out like this is just plain cruel. There's been no improvement at all and he has to rely on Luc to help him cos Cole's either too high or out. So you just take a minute to imagine how you would feel knowin' that the one person you always relied on was just feet away but would rather not bother. As for Brooke she's shattered I mean you should see how much weight she lost tryin' to look after Sam, Lily and Dylan, it breaks my heart."

"I just need some time to deal."

"You've had almost three months Dean and in that time life has gone to shit for everyone so I don't care what you have to do to get over this but you are leavin' this room. Go out, get drunk…hell, kill somethin' I don't give a rats ass what you do but we all need you and I'm done with covering for you; I'm far too old and I'm not a worthy substitute."

When the old man left with a last look around the room Dean rolled over on his side and looked at his son who stared back with big green eyes as though challenging him. Dean's mind reeled back decades as he remembered being little over four years old and he used to watch Sam look up at him with the same trusting gaze. He had been forced to grow up too quickly because his own father had been consumed by guilt and grief and he couldn't allow that to happen to Dylan, Logan or Lily. He knew he would have to get up at some point but for the time being he closed his eyes and fell into a dreamless sleep with one hand laid protectively over his little boy.

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"Do you feel any better?" Brooke looked over at Sam as she negotiated the large Chevy through the iron gates in front of the gothic mansion. They had gone to a quiet bar and Sam had knocked back some drinks which seemed to calm him but hadn't exactly lifted his mood. She knew there was only one thing that could do that but all the cajoling in the world had only made Dean retreat more and Sam hadn't seen his brother in over three weeks even though he was only upstairs.

"Yeah, thanks for being so cool." He replied with no feeling.

She pulled the Impala up in front of the house and turned off the engine staring up at the dark windows of the upper floors imagining Dean sat there alone. The one thing they were thankful for was that he hadn't turned to alcohol; he was too good a father to care for a small child when he was drunk. They often lay awake at night listening to Logan scream as Dean paced the wooden floor. The baby drank more milk than most and Dean learned early that he couldn't afford to run out as the one time Brooke had attempted to breast feed him resulted in her dropping into an inexplicable dead faint. Dean only went out after they all went to bed and Brooke would sometimes go to the kitchen in the morning to find the fridge filled with food making her believe that he wasn't completely lost to them.

There was a light on in their room and the TV flickered warmly as Brooke finally got out of the Impala and went round to help Sam out. After weeks spent in bed and with a brace on for months his fitness levels had plummeted which did nothing to ease the depression he was fighting. It was exhausting for his wife to have to do it all and keep his spirits up at the same time but she had taken their wedding vows seriously and wouldn't dream of complaining. Sam looked at her for a second like he was noticing for the first time how gaunt she was and made a mental note to make sure she ate something.

They made their way into the house slowly and she opened up the door stepping back to let Sam through. Dylan was waiting for them on the threshold of their room, the days were gone when he would run up to greet them followed by Nitro.

"Hey." Sam put a smile on his face but knew it wasn't fooling his son. "Are you holding down the fort?"

Dylan walked up silently and put his arms around his father, he hated it when his parents went out without him now and all the independence he had fought for was a distant memory as he had even taken to sharing a bed with them again. Sam frowned up at Brooke and pulled Dylan onto his lap folding him into his arms. "You ok?" He knew there wouldn't be an answer so let go and made his way into the warm front room where the heating was better. Parking up he again held his son and rocked him like he was a baby as Brooke went to find Bobby and the baby.

They both missed the days when this house had been full of people laughing and joking, even Nitro couldn't be bothered to bark and they almost had to spoon feed him as the gloom all around them affected him too.
Sam tried to keep his thoughts more upbeat as he held his little boy and willed him to sleep dreamlessly for a change. Any child they had would see its fair share of pain and misery but not usually within the family like this and Sam was sad that he wasn't able to shield him better.

Dylan seemed to have been waiting for them to come home so that he could finally relax in the protection of his Dad's embrace and within minutes he had been lulled into a deep sleep his head leaning back against Sam's arm with his mouth hanging open. Sam touched his lips to his forehead and stared at him until Brooke returned and put Lily down in her cot. She smiled at the two of them for a moment and saw that Sam had relaxed. "I'm gonna go and have a bath. You need anything?"

"No, I think I'll just go to bed."

Brooke leaned down and kissed her husband slowly. "Don't go to sleep until I get back."

"I won't."

Sam heard her run the water a few minutes later causing the pipes to clank noisily, he knew the kids wouldn't be in as Cole's truck was gone but Sam hadn't bothered to keep tabs on their movements for a long time knowing they were almost as nocturnal as vampires now. He carefully laid Dylan on the bed and he turned grabbing a pillow unconsciously missing the feeling of being held. Sam hated giving Dylan any kind of drug but everything else they had tried had failed including hypnosis and they had seen it as a last resort to ease the constant noise in his head.

He went to the kitchen and ran the tap to brush his teeth and get a drink to take through. Spitting into the sink he moved to the dishwasher and opened it to find that for once someone had actually emptied the damn thing. He could have waited but he needed to take his pills and he was impatient to get back to Dylan.
Distracted by thoughts of his son Sam put a hand on the counter and opened the cupboard above it reaching in to grab a glass. He'd made a mistake and taken his eye off the ball forgetting to put on the brakes. He knew as soon as he moved he was screwed as the wheels rolled backwards against his forward weight and he was tipped out hitting the rough edge of the granite counter head first.

"Shit!" He whispered loudly as he fell in a heap on the floor and put a hand to the throbbing wound. His shaky palm came away bloody and he pressed it hard trying to staunch the flow. "Asshole." He said to himself angrily.

Looking around he saw the chair across the room and rolled his eyes knowing he could try to get to it and bleed more or wait for Brooke to come down and rescue his sorry ass. There was no way he was going to start shouting and not only scare his son but admit that he was a real invalid. Twenty years ago this wouldn't have been an issue but he wasn't that guy any more. Sam lay on his back and decided to wait it out, Brooke didn't need this and would probably have him back for x-rays but he didn't see that he had a choice.

"Daddy?" A little voice said from the door.

Sam looked up. Shit "I'm ok Dylan."

"You're bleeding."

"It's just a bump, no big deal but can you go get your Mom please?"

Dylan looked scared as he backed away from the dark room and hit the stairs making Sam hate himself even more. God he was a loser.

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Brooke was lying in the warm water enjoying the feel of it as she ran a hand over her protruding hips. She knew that she had lost too much weight and that it wasn't attractive but breast feeding and stress had taken their toll not to mention the grief at losing the only sister she had ever known. Her ears pricked up when she heard the knock on the door and sat up with a frown to listen.

The knock came again from a distance and then she heard the voice. "Uncle Dean?"

Brooke wondered if she should get out of the bath and go see what Dylan needed but then she heard Dean's voice even though he hadn't opened the door. "Yeah?"

"Daddy fell over and he can't get up."

Every instinct she had screamed at her to get up and see if he was ok but then she forced herself to block them out and sit back when it occurred to her that of all the things that would finally get Dean out of his room this was it. There was no way in hell he wouldn't go and help Sam if he needed him, she was sure of it. Nevertheless she breathed a sigh of relief when the door finally opened and she heard Dean's footsteps running down the stairs.

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"Sam where are you?!" He called out heading for the bedroom.

Sam closed his eyes loving the sound of the voice but also pissed that the first time he saw his brother in weeks was under these circumstances. "In here."

Dean came in a second later and flipped the light on making Sam blink, not with the glare of the lights but at the state his brother was in. "Jesus." They simultaneously said in concern for one another. Sam had seen Dean in a lot of bad ways but it was inconceivable he had let himself go this much.
He obviously hadn't slept, eaten or shaved in a while and he looked thin, unkempt and tortured. Wearing just sweat pants the muscles in his stomach looked more like growths without the flesh around them to bulk them up but his eyes were the worst thing about him as they were red rimmed and had no spark at all.

Dean knelt at his side and moved Sam's hand away from the gash on his head. "That's gonna need stitches." He looked down at him. "You hurt anywhere else?"

"I don't think so." He struggled to speak as Dean felt the bones in his legs to check nothing was broken before helping him to sit up.

They stared at one another for a long time and Sam was shocked to see tears in Dean's eyes. "I'm sorry Sam, I shouldn't have left you."

Sam frowned and forgot his head for a minute as he pulled him into a hug. "God I missed you."

Dean broke away eventually and the corner of his mouth tilted up like he'd forgotten how to smile. "You got rid of the girdle then?"

Sam smiled back at him. "Yeah, it was starting to cramp my style."

Dean took a deep breath like he had been buried alive for months and had only just been resurrected. "Let's get you fixed up eh?" He leaned over grabbing the chair and actually struggled to get his brother into it like he'd taken up a forty a day habit. "Wow, I guess I'm outta shape."

Sam got his feet onto the footrest and huffed. "Makes two of us, maybe we could help each other out?"

"I can think of worse things." Dean grabbed a wet towel and handed it to his brother to press to his head and opened the first aid kit out on the kitchen table.

"How's Logan?" Sam wanted to keep the conversation on safe territory.

"Ready to play linebacker for the Redskins."

Sam laughed seeing the first real glimmer of something in Dean's eye. "That big huh?"

"Yeah, must be a throw back gene or somethin' ya know I'm no giant but Bonnie…" Just as quickly as Sam saw it the glint disappeared and his eyes were blank again.

Dean moved the towel and took a seat next to Sam as he pressed antiseptic to the cut making him wince. Sam kept his hands in his lap as Dean got out the needle and thread and began to robotically stitch up the wound, normally when he did this he would be laughing and joking to distract his brother but this time he just got on with it and Sam missed the old Dean like mad.

"Just five stitches, small scar." Dean said as he cut the thread and taped a piece of gauze to it.

"I'm such an idiot."

"You wanna hear somethin' crazy?" Dean sat back and looked at him. "When Dylan came to get me I thought you did this on purpose 'til I saw the blood."

"I'm no stunt man. Seriously, you think I'd stoop that low?"

Dean shrugged. "It crossed my mind."

"I wanted you to come downstairs believe me…every day I waited but it had to be because you needed it."

"You know how stubborn I am, probably woulda stayed up there 'til Logan graduated."

Sam smiled to himself. "From Autoshop or Harvard?"

"Dude, how hard did you hit your head?"

Sam was smiling again. "If he's as tall as me, might get my brains too."

"God help me if that happens." But Dean smiled slightly missing the banter. "I am sorry, Bobby told me about Dyl and the pills and everythin'."

Sam touched his head as he frowned and looked away. "We didn't know what else to do."

"I'm gonna make it up to him."

Sam shook his head. "You don't have to do anything, just try to heal yourself and the rest of us will follow Dean 'cos that's the way it's always been." Sam took a deep breath. "I went to the hospital today."

Dean felt guilt wash over him, in all these years he had never once willingly missed one of Sam's visits and he felt like an ass. He cleared his throat. "And?"

"They think it's all in my head."

"What?"

Sam looked into his lap. "There's no reason I shouldn't be better by now, I mean at least be able to feel something."

Dean rested his elbow on the table and rubbed at his face. "You think they're right?"

"Not at first but when I thought about it later maybe I haven't got the motivation to believe in myself any more."

"You always did need a kick up the ass Sammy." Dean shoved one of his thighs with his dusty bare foot.

Sam had never heard him call him that before and loved it so much as he did right then. "You offering to do the kicking?"

Dean exhaled and nodded before looking down at himself. "I'm a mess."

"No arguments here. Look, why don't you make something to eat? I know Brooke could use some food and I'm about done with rummaging through cupboards."

Dean nodded and pushed on his knees to stand up.

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When Cole and Hope came back they had expected to find a quiet house as usual if you didn't count screaming babies. When they heard the voices in the kitchen they were shocked and almost tempted to draw weapons.

They wandered in and saw Sam, Brooke and Dean sharing a meal at the table which was something they never did when things were normal let alone now.

"Dad?" Cole paused in the doorway.

"You forgotten what I looked like?" He asked a little nervously.

Hope simply stared at him before catching her breath. "We remember but it bears no resemblance to what you look like now."

"I'll fix that tomorrow." He stood up and walked over to them like he was suddenly old. "Come here." He pulled them both into his arms and held them close. "I'm back ok? I'm not gonna let you down again."

Cole was suddenly close to tears. "You didn't let us down, you were just lookin' out for little bro."

Dean kissed his hair. "Thanks."

He pulled away and looked at his daughter who was the one person he had least wanted to see because she looked so much like her mother. The fact that Hope knew it was the real reason he had avoided her more than anyone else since the funeral made it even harder for her to deal with her own loss. It wasn't easy knowing that the person you adored the most couldn't stand the sight of you and no one but Luc had seen the amount of pain that it had caused her as she fought to carry on as normal.

Dean managed a smile and brushed his hard knuckles down her cheek making her close her eyes and tilt her head slightly into the open palm. "You're beautiful, just like her."

She opened her eyes and put her arms around him missing the strength that used to be there. "No more hiding Dad?"

"No more hiding, we're gonna be a family again, I promise."

Hope pulled away with a teary smile and glanced at her brother. "Me too."

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sniff... i think I must be hormonal!