-1I am so unbelievably sorry with my 24th birthday and my mom's chemo treatments my time to myself has dwindled down to nothing these days but I'm here now so I thank all of you for your responses to chapter 19 and hope you like this one just as much, as always I want to know everything you are thinking the good the bad and everything else.

Bar Fights and Bullets

Chapter 20

Dean sat in front of the television the only sound filling his ears was the distant sound of running water coming from the bathroom where his father was showering. Sam had gone out to pick up a few things they needed around the apartment odds and ends that when John was the one doing the shopping he would mindlessly forget about because he was not use to such a domestic lifestyle. When you live in hotel rooms all your life the maid provides you with soap and clean sheets, when you go to laundry mats once a week you buy little boxes of tide out of vending machines…. Life on the road was a hell of a lot different then life in one place and John Winchester was having more then a little trouble adjusting.

As he flipped through the channels on the muted television Dean sighed restlessly shifting his upper body weight a little, it was after three pm and they had not yet done any of their exercise routine for the day, they were burning precious day light hours on worthless activities, at least that's how he saw it anyway. It had been almost three weeks now since he had taken that small step in the right direction and his prognosis had yet to make any further developments, he was growing more restless then a senior approaching graduation day.

Popping his neck from side to side he ran a hand through his hair, to his surprise even today's Oprah topic of how to live with an unbearable relative didn't seem to keep his interest. There was no time for TV no time for relaxation he needed to be working, striving and recovering not sitting around like some couch potato!

Catching sight of the parallel bars out of the corner of his eye, his impatience having reached it's peek hours ago, Dean drew his lip into his mouth and turned his full attention to the small contraption tilting his head and studying it.

Maybe he didn't need Sam, or his dad to help him? Maybe he could start on his own? They had been working so hard at it and for so long now there was no reason he couldn't just stand up and use the damn thing all by himself… Like a big boy was there?

Leaning down he took the break off before closing the distance from the middle of the room to the overly sized metal bars, he sat in front of them for a minute contemplating. Maybe he was the reason his recovery was taking so long? Maybe he was just thinking about it to much? Maybe he just needed to stand up and do it… He had never been much of the thinking type to begin with, so why should he be now?

Relocking the brake he un-strapped his legs and then his waist belt nodding to himself in affirmation of what he was about to do, he could do this… He was going to do this. He would surprise Sammy, he would surprise his father and he would concur these damn bars on his own.

He was strong, hell he was a hunter, and he was not going to let these damn things defeat him anymore as he reached out unsteady hands and laid them against the cold metal bars clasping his fingers around them and locking them in place. It was time he showed the world and himself that Dean Winchester was no ones bitch and he was not going to lay down and lose anymore.

His heart pounded triple time in his chest as he drew in a deep and lung filling breath holding it and attempting to clear his mind of anything and everything else before releasing it. Sam would be so proud of him again, look up to him again like he did before this damn accident and he could do it, there was no reason that he couldn't right?

Closing his eyes sweat already bathing his palms Dean forced himself up and out of the chair with a loud and satisfying grunt his arm muscles straining under the pressure as in a split second he realized just how much of his weight Sam must have been holding for him day after day.

"Jeezus." He panted out shortly drawing in another breath and forcing his arms steady as he opened his eyes and looked down to see that his legs had not yet even touched the floor. Lowering his body a little he felt his toes come in contact with the mat and smirked a little satisfied. "See…. Piece of cake…" He mumbled to himself his voice strained.

The next seconds flashed in a blur, his hands slipped his body collapsed and Dean crumbled to the mat with a loud and sickening thud before he could even realize what had happened. He found himself face down against the bright blue not to soft surface and growled in frustration. "Damn-it!" He cursed loudly his arms aching so bad from holding up his own weight that it sent a throb through his entire body.

Turning his body by flopping over like a fish out of water Dean's anger only grew when he noticed that he had managed to fall just far enough away from his chair that he would have to scoot like a child to reach it. He didn't want to reach it, he wanted to throw it, he wanted to kick it, he wanted to set it on fire, he wanted to destroy it, but he did not want to get back in it.

Inhaling sharply he tossed himself back on to the mat as sweat beads worked there way down his face and he stared up at the ceiling. "Damn-it… Damn-it… Damn-it…" He repeated a few more times wishing that saying that single word would some how ease his frustrations.

"No…No" He told himself after a minute propping himself up on to his elbows and looking down at his legs with a venomous glare. "I can do this."

-Balancing three paper bags full of groceries in each arm Sam maneuvered himself to slide the key into the door before turning the knob and pushing it open, this was the last time he was ever going to volunteer to go shopping alone again between the balancing bag act and the countless number of prepubescent bag girls throwing themselves at him he definitely needed someone to come along with him from now on it just made things easier.

As he stepped inside the youngest of the Winchester men froze as his eyes immediately fell to Dean who was currently attempting to rise to his feet again his knuckles white as he gripped the bars so tight that Sam thought they might band and break at any minutes. The lower half of the older mans body was twisted and tangled in ways that to anyone else would cause pain to shoot through out their limbs. His hips were turned to the right even though his body was facing forward, his legs lifelessly dangling crossed at the knees left over right, he was the true meaning of the words human pretzel.

Immediately dropping the bags at his feet Sam stepped over them and made his way toward his brother, "What the hell do you think your doing?" He asked and it was only now that Dean even acknowledged his presence.

"I got it…." Dean's face was flushed and dripping with sweat as he looked up his gaze meeting his brothers.

Sam didn't say anything as he watched Dean once more beginning fall toward the mat and instinctively reached out to catch him steadying the older yet smaller man instantly and shaking his head in disapproval

"I can do it…" Dean protested as he felt himself being carried backward toward the chair, "Let go Sammy."

"I thought we were past this whole tantrum thing of yours Dean, I thought you agreed to let me help you!"

"I did."

"I can see that." Sam rolled his eyes and sighed, "Your never going to get better if you keep pulling this shit."

"I just thought I would give it a try alright?" Dean couldn't help the anger and frustration in his words, "I mean there is no harm in trying it there?"

"There is if you break your damn neck!"

"Don't be over dramatic Sammy…"

"I leave you alone for an hour and this is what I come home to? Where is dad why isn't he watching you?"

"Watching me?" Deans retort was quick as his eyes shot up his brow cocking as he scoffed, "What am I four? You think I need a babysitter?"

"Obviously you do…" Sam hadn't thought about the words until after they came out of his mouth and were immediately accepted with a look of hurt and disapproval from this brother's tired hazel orbs.. "Dean I-" He ran a hand through his hair cutting himself off not knowing what to say.

"Go to hell." Dean's words hurt, but not as much as the tone they were spoken in, so low, so calm, so cold, as he turned and wheeled himself back toward his room just as John was emerging from the bathroom hair still wet from his shower.

"Shit." Sam mumbled rubbing a hand over his mouth and watching as his brother exited, he wanted to call after him, to apologize, but he couldn't .

"What was that about?" John's voice was soft and confused as he made his way into the living room.

"You should of been keeping an eye on him." Sam grunted accusingly before turning and heading back to pick up the bags of groceries off the floor.

"Excuse me?" John cleared his throat shocked and fallowed behind him on his heels.

"You should have been keeping an eye on him." Sam repeated in the exact same tone and voice as he had the first time placing the bags down on the counter.

"I heard what you said." John gripped his son's shoulder and turned him around so that they were face to face, "You want to tell me what the hell you meant?"

"You shouldn't have left him alone, he could of hurt himself… made things worse."

"Your brother is damn near 28 years old Sam, he doesn't need to be watched like a child!"

"Oh really?"

"Yeah really." John's confidence was slowly wavering due to the anger he saw in his sons eyes.

"Then how come when I walked in here just now he was dangling from those damn bars like some dead animal and he could hardly catch his breath?"

"What?"

"He thought he could do it himself, he got tired of waiting on us I guess and decided that there was a new slot to be filled in the occupation of Superman."

"Sam…"

"You should have been with him…" Sam spat out again closing his eyes and rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"Your brother is a big boy." John frowned a little, he knew that Sam wanted to help Dean, that he wanted to be there, wanted to make it all better, but this… this was just to much. "He's going to do what he wants when he wants and it's not up to us to stop him."

"He could of hurt himself…"

- Dean could hear the voices of his father and brother in the next room, fighting, arguing over him, talking about him as though he weren't even there, as through he were no more then a child, and his anger boiled once again inside him, rising quickly to the surface and spilling over.

He had been doing so well, he had been recovering, they had been the closest to happy that they had seen in a long time and now he had gone and screwed everything up in typical Dean fashion he had taken their half full glass and turned it up side down making it half empty.

Looking down at his nearly useless legs he studied them, he found himself once again thinking back to so much in his life, so many things he had taken for granted, never thought twice about… And how now he couldn't do more then half of them anymore, all he wanted all he needed was to feel to be whole again and to have his life back was that really to much to ask? To much to hope for after all the things he had been through in his life after all the innocents he had protected and the demons he had fought why couldn't he just have this one simple little thing, why did that have to be taken from him to? Why couldn't he just feel…

"I want to feel again, I just want to feel again…" He mumbled to himself the fight between his father and brother dulling in comparison to the voices now echoing in his head, "I want to feel… I need to feel…."

Spotting a slim yellow and black pen only an arms length away, Dean reached out and plucked it from the night stand holding it in his fingers.

He held to it tighter and tighter and without a second thought, before he could stop himself he thrust it into his thigh, he grunted low and deep in his throat as he felt the resistance from layer after layer of skein pushing through them cutting himself deep.

But still he felt nothing…..

His fingers stayed locked around the yellow pen now protruding from his leg as he looked down at it, he was numb, he could feel nothing… It took seconds for the blood to come but even as it did… As dean watched it flow… He felt nothing.

He couldn't understand, he should feel that, he should feel something pain of any kind…. But yet there was nothing…

Everything was numb, and blank… mirroring his insides.

He stared down at it, watching the small red river now trickling steadily down his thigh, blood his blood exiting his body. He thought back again to the night of the accident, the rain against his flesh his brothers arms holding him the chill through out his body… and he wondered why he hadn't died, if he couldn't feel then why was he even alive anymore….

He thought back to every day since the accident, every minute passing by like a second every day giving way to the next… Why couldn't he just feel something? Anything? He had done everything the doctors had asked he had been so optimistic it nearly killed him, he was trying to do the right thing….

But still he had nothing to show for it….

-"Maybe I should go talk to him." John began to move around his youngest son when Sam quickly shook his head cutting him off.

"No, it's our fight I'm the one who should be talking to him."

"He's really mad at you right now Sam…"

"Yeah well…" Sam shrugged a little already making his way toward the bedroom, "He's just going to have to get un-mad now isn't he?"

"Good luck with that." John called after him just As Sam began to knock on the door and push it open all in the same movement.

"Dean I um-" His voice died off in his throat as he made his way into his brother room and found Dean still sitting near the night stand staring blankly down at the pen still stuck in his leg his fingers wrapped so tight around it was as through he were holding on for dear life blood spilling over on to everything.

"Oh…Oh god….." The younger man took a step forward and collapsed down to his knees in front of his brother. "Dean…."

"I-I just wanted to feel…. I just wanted to feel something….Anything…. Why can't I feel Sammy…?" Dean never looked up never took his eyes away from the blood… his blood making it's way down his thigh his words were not loud and not soft they weren't angry or sad…. They were hallow and indifferent no more then a spine chilling whisper.

"DAD!!!!!!" Sam screamed his heart racing in his chest as he swallowed down the vomit now in his throat and began trying to pry Dean's hand from the pen the blood slick and sticky making the task all that much harder….

The later half of this chapter was originally thought of more for the beginning of the story, but believe it or not it fits perfectly with the here and now and sets up the next chapter beautifully. I hope you guys like it, and please don't think this is a set back or that Dean is not going to recover or anything like that because I promise that it not the case, as always I hope you like it R&R!!!!!