-1I haven't updated in a few days because I wanted to give this next chapter a lot of thought so that it would come out just the way I see it playing out in my head. I thank you all so much for your wonderful feedback on chapter five, as you know that is what encourages me to keep writing… So that being said, I hope this chapter is just as enjoyable for you and remember to let me in on your thoughts, the good the bad and the ugly.

Bar Fights and Bullets

Chapter 6

"Close the door." Dean whispered over his shoulder as Sam wheeled him into the bedroom, their father watching them from the sofa the volume on the television nothing more then a faint whisper.

"Dean…"

"I said close the damn door." Dean's voice rose only in the slightest as he cleared his throat, the last thing he wanted was for his father to be forced to watch him being lifted into bed like some incapable child, cared for like some imbecile.

Sam sighed heavily and went to the door peering out and giving his father an apologetic shrug before closing the door blocking the two boys inside, in privacy.

John frowned deeply shifting his head back to the television, even though he was not actually watching the images flashing before his eyes, there were to many thoughts to many questions overwhelming his mind for him to concentrate on anything else at the moment.

He wanted to be in there, he wanted to be helping his sons, but he knew exactly why the door dividing them was closed… Dean had never been one to show weakness, vulnerability, especially not in front of his father, he had to keep up his one man game of charades, he had to appear strong and warrior like in John's eyes no matter how bad the situation really was, and John knew he was going to have to find a way in on his own.

Into Dean's head, into his pain, and into his recovery, otherwise he was going to be useless in this whole mess.

Looking toward the nearly finished therapy equipment John rose to his feet and stretched before heading over and kneeling down picking up a screw driver and the instruction booklet. Before his demon hunting days he was quite the handyman around the house… So if he could do nothing else for the time being, if he could be of no other help… At least he could fix these metal pieces together, if he couldn't fix his son just yet.

Tears began to slip from his eyes.

Stepping from Dean's room Sam stood in the door way leaning against it slightly and crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes fixed on his father's form a few feet in front of him, crouched down and concentrating on the apparatus in front of him. Even from where he stood Sam could see the redness of his fathers cheeks, the glistening of his few sorrow filled tears resting on them and the pain radiating from his body.

He slowly and quietly made his way across the room, his heart growing heavier and heavier with guilt with each step he took he kneeled down next to the older man and placed a hand on his back.

"It's ok Dad…" He whispered hesitantly, not to sure how his father would take to his presence, Dean and John were far to similar in that aspect of themselves, they hated showing weakness, hated tears, they were strong and fearless…

To his youngest son surprise John didn't pull away, didn't grunt or flinch he just dropped the tool from his left hand and brought it up placing it over his son's with a small nod.

"We're really okay…" He continued gently feeling a small squeeze against his flesh.

"I-I'm sorry Sammy…" He finally whispered after a moment tearing his eyes from the project before him and gazing toward his youngest son his eyes red with un-cried tears. "I should have been here,… Not only for your brother but for you, you shouldn't have to be dealing with this on your own."

"No Dad…" Sam shook his head cutting him off, "You had no way of knowing what was going on, Dean refused…"

"I should of picked up on it sooner Sam, I should of known something was wrong and come looking for you, not waited months and months while letting someone else fallow up on my leads. You boys needed your father and I was to busy wrapped up in myself, in my own selfish revenge to realize-"

"Your hear now." Sam swallowed hard, "That's all that matters."

"I've made a decision Sammy." John rose to his feet and ran a hand through his hair and over his facial hair. "No more hunting… At least not for now, until your brother is well, I'm here and I'm not leaving you boys."

Sam's eyes widened a little. "Dad, the Demon is still out there, and-"

"That doesn't matter, I lost your mother, and losing her was the worst feeling in the world… I'm not going to risk losing you boys too. We will pick up the fight after we know your brother is alright, and after your alright."

"I'm fine dad-"

"That's bull shit Sammy and you know it, I can see right into you… Your no where near alright-"

"But-"

"You never should have had to take care of him on your own like this."

"He's my brother, it's my job."

"No. You're my sons and it's my job" John's face went stern in the blink of an eye, "There will be no more discussing this… And that's an order."

"Yes sir." Sam nodded before a small ironic smirk twitched at the corners of his mouth.

"What is it?"

"We're a family again…" Sam whispered thinking back to not so long ago when Meg had summoned the Deva's and Dean had confided in him near tears how all he wanted was his family together, all he wanted was for things to be like they used to. "Just like Dean wanted…"

John didn't say anything , he simply gave a slight nod in response before making his way toward the small kitchen and getting a bottle of water from the fridge.

There were a few minutes of silence, comforting silence between the two men before John finally spoke making his way back to the mass of metal and plastic on the floor and taking a seat next to where Sam now sat working.

Hesitation was evident in his voice as he spoke now glancing in Sam's direction through the corner of his eye. "How is he really…"

"He's al-"

"Sam, how is he really?" John didn't want to hear, he's alright, he's fine or he's okay, he wanted the truth, and since he knew Dean was not going to give it to him, he had to go to the next best plan. Sam.

Sam rolled his neck from side to side and sighed softly clearing his throat, if Dean knew what he was about to say he would definitely get a shin ramming for this.

"He's deteriorating…." The young man drew his lip into his mouth, before releasing it again "Mentally and physically… He won't leave the house anymore, he won't let me help him, It was only today that he agreed to this equipment, he keeps telling me he'll figure it out on his own… But I know I know that he's given up. He doesn't talk about it, you know what happened that night… He's like this… this shell of my brother, he just sits in front of the tv and wastes away…"

John felt his heart breaking even more as he watched tears forming in Sam's eyes, he knew those tears because he felt them too, tears of anger, tears of helplessness, and pain… "He'll be alright Sammy… We're gonna make sure of it…"

Now it was Sam's turn to give only a nod in response as he stood up. "It's late… I think we should work on this more in the morning, you can take my room and I'll take the couch…"

"No." John shook his head a little, "I'll take the couch, believe me son I've slept on worse."

"I dunno about that, she's a pretty old thing."

"Good night Sammy." His father's voice had once again taken on that tone filled with finality leaving no room for argument.

"Good night Dad." Sam had made it almost to his room when he turned on his heels and faced his father once more. "I'm glad you're here."

John offered a half smile which was all that he could muster up at the moment, "Get some sleep son."

- When Sam awoke the next morning his father was already up sitting at the dinning room table, looking through the stacks of bills and fraudulent credit card applications, thousands upon thousands of dollars in medical bills sat before him like those of a person three times the age of his son's. The smell of fresh coffee lingering in the air.

He was currently looking at a bill for just under three grand from the local hospital when he heard the soft carpet rustling of approaching feet and looked up to see Sam approaching the clock on the wall reading eight thirty four.

"Mornin' sleepy head."

"Morning." Sam mumbled making his way toward the coffee pot, he had already peeked in on dean who was still fast asleep, and he knew he had at least fifteen minutes to himself before their day would begin.

After making himself a cup of coffee he headed toward the table where his father currently sat and took the seat across from him eyeing the bills he had obviously been studying and cleared his throat wiping his eyes, "Don't worry about those I got them handled."

"I can see that." John smirked, "You and your brother have become quite the credit card fraud master minds…."

"We had an amazing teacher." Sam could tell by the bags gracing the underneath of his fathers eyes that he had slept little if at all the previous night, but decided not to press the matter.

" When your brother wakes up… I think we're going to head out for a little while give you some time to yourself."

As much as the simple statement seriously appealed to him Sam shook his head almost instinctively, "I told you he's not one to leave the house."

"Yeah well that's about to change, he needs to get out, and you need some time with yourself."

Sam frowned a little, "Dad I'm fine really, I'm used to-"

"I know, but everyone can use a little me time once in a while, besides I told you already that he needs to get out."

"It's a lot of work to take him somewhere."

"I'll handle it."

- Per Dean's request, Sam had loaded him into the minivan they were currently sporting, glancing over at the impala beside it for only a second he tore his eyes away, it was to painful… it hurt to much to remember that car, the times he had spent driving it, the ridiculous love he had for such a beautiful yet inanimate object, and how much he longed to sit inside her once again and press his foot to the gas peddle making her purr….

"I still hate you both for this…"

"Dad's orders, he said he needs some one on one with you…" Sam grunted lifting Dean's chair in to the back of the van.

"How much did you tell him?"

"What makes you think I told him anything…"

"Because I know you, and the mountain of worry you bury yourself under, all he's got to do is ask and you spout off like a busted fire hydrant."

"I do not!"

"Whatever dude."

Sam shook his head making his way back inside just as John was emerging from the bathroom in a fresh t-shirt and jeans, "He ready?"

"Yeah, the chairs in the back. He's really not happy about this you know?"

"Well, that's to damn bad," John held his hand out for the keys Sam was extending toward him, "You try not to have to much fun while were gone…"

Climbing into the van John smiled toward his eldest boy who simply stared back at him in return a look that if looks could kill would probably give the older man quite the heart attack… "I didn't know that spending time with your old man was so painful for you…"

"It's not that," Dean only allowed his face to soften a little looking back out the windshield seeing Sam watching them from the door way as they pulled out.

"Well then what is it?"

"Nothing." Dean grunted a reached for the radio flipping it on, at least the soccer mom mobile had a decent sound system as Blue Oyster Cult came blasting through the speakers.

John tore his eyes from his son and back to the road a head of him, allowing, for now at least, a wordless presence to come between them.

He pulled into the local Denny's parking lot and shut off the engine looking over toward Dean who was now looking at him in surprise.. His father had not told him where they were going, but this, well this was not one of the many thought's that had crossed the younger man's mind during the short trip. "What are we doing here?"

"Breakfast." John chuckled and opened his door.

"Why?"

"Because I'm hungry." He paused, "And because it gives your brother a little time to himself which judging from what I saw last night he really needs right now."

Dean closed his eyes momentarily and jumped nearly three feet when he heard John's door closed, he could picture him walking around the front of the van and approaching the back sliding door, hearing it pull open he cringed inwardly… This was humiliating.

John pulled the chair down from the back of the van his own palms sweating just a little as he set it down unable to help the look of disgust on his face, such a confining and inhuman beast this contraption was.

He opened his son's door and stood there for a second Dean's eyes opening and looking toward his father. A sadness hidden inside them that was gut wrenching, John had seen this done before countless times in the movies, but that wasn't real it was Hollywood, this was life…

"Um, You- uh… You have to lift me…" Dean tried to keep his voice steady his insides churning with embarrassment as he undid his seat belt.

John nodded and leaned in lifting his son from the passengers seat one hand under his knees and the other on his back, Dean's hands flung shakily around his neck…

And for a brief moment, John was no longer in the present day… He was far away long ago in a memory…

January 24th 1983.

Dean's 4th birthday had been a success, all the children from the neighborhood had attended which was not a surprise at all to either one of his parents, he was the most popular kid on their block, just ask him and he would tell you.

And being the most popular kid on the block this also meant that he had to have the coolest toys as well, which was the reason he was now riding down the street on a brand new red tricycle as John and Mary, who was currently five months pregnant with their second child, stood on the porch watching with pleased smiles across their faces.

"He's growing up so fast." Mary whispered toward her husband placing a hand on her stomach, "He's going to make a wonderful big brother."

John simply smiled and slid his arm around his wife's shoulder kissing the top of her head, "There is no doubt in my mind."

John's face turned from pleasure to fear in a matter of seconds as he watched the small red tricycle carrying his son topple over into Mrs. Redman's rose bushes next door, sending his son's heart breaking and loud sob's into the evening air.

Before Mary could think to react John jumped from the porch and ran to his son scooping his sobbing pint size form into his arm's.

His knee's and elbows were scrapped up lightly from the falls as Dean felt the warmth of his father's chest against him and his cries softened hugging his small arms around his father's torso.

"Your okay Dean, your okay son… Daddy's here…" John soothed kissing the top of his head.

"It hurt me daddy… it hurt me…" The little boy cried pulling back and looking down with evil eyes at the red tricycle still laying tipped over in the neighbor's rose bushes. "Stupid Bike! I don't wanna ride it no more… It hurted me!"

"It's okay Dean…" John looked to Mary who was now standing only a foot or so behind him figuring her husband had the situation handled offering her knowing small smile before leaning down and lifting the bike up with the hand not currently holding his son.

He carried his son and the evil tricycle toward the house with his wife on their heels , it was time to clean up his little boys wound's from the tricycle war…. That however was always mommy's department.

John's face was a mixture of loss and longing as he stared off into space his forehead creased with wrinkles from the images in his mind, the video placed there.

"You alright dad?" Dean frowned up at his father as he was set in his chair pulling John from his memories just as quick as he had fallen into it…

His four year old son in his arm's protected by his grasp, was once again 27, but just as vulnerable as he had been that day in the yard, even if he fighting not to show it.

' Your okay Dean, Your Okay son, Daddy's here.' He heard his own voice ring through his head but fought to keep the words from his lips settling for a nod instead he cleared his throat and shook his head forcing himself completely back to the here and now… "Yeah. I'm fine, just hungry…"

Dean nodded, not buying his fathers excuse for a second, that was not a look of hunger, that was a look of pain, a look that Dean knew he had caused. "Yeah. Alright."