"Dean, wake up. Dean"

Dean smacked his lips. He managed to pry his eyes open to narrow slits. The face before him was blurred like he was looking through water. His eyes closed easily.

"Dean. Come on now. You have worked to do."

Dean jolted his eyes back onto the face. His eyes were sunken and struggling to focus.

"Sam…" he muttered.

"No Dean."

Dean focused his attention as hard as possible on the face. Surprise widened his eyes as he mouthed, "Dad".

"Yeah, you look like hell. How ya doin?"

"We'll I'm hallucinating…and something… is trying to eat me.. and not in a good way." Dean tried to force his body to move.

"I don't think it is wise to move right now."

Dean's body was chilled to his core. He shuttered harder and pain froze to his bones. "Oh.. yeah.. bad…..idea."

"You have to fight this Dean. Sam needs you."

"Dad.. You shouldn't..have gone. I can't…do this alone…I". A spasm jolted his body and he gasped in sharp short breaths.

"You can fight this and beat this. Just like you can handle what's coming. You just have to fight."

"Dad…please…we need you….I …can't"

You always could. You just need to believe it. You just need to fight this and WAKE UP!"

Dean jolted and shook as the words wake up resonated in his head. The cold penetrated down to his bones, half from his injury and half remembering, the sound of his Dad's voice. He snapped up into the void that just held the image of his father. He wasn't there-just the darkness of the black hole in Dean's soul. His lip quivered and his eyes narrowed to shut off the pain, anger, and loss he felt.

The comfort of his father's voice had been shocking. It was something he needed more than he would ever admit. He missed the small moments when his Dad and he just clicked. He even missed the last days when they didn't. Dean's eyes were distant, caught somewhere between comfort and pain. His mother had been the one to bring comfort when he was very small. His dad- he was strong- always sure of what to do. Comfort was not a word you would use for his Dad, let alone think you could feel.

But, there he was, the second time during this hunt, thinking about his Dad-feeling lost.-thinking about his family- letting the sadness into him-despairing his failure to protect his Dad and Sam.

Dean closed his eyes and shook his head. When he opened his eyes, they were filled with the image of Sam still sleeping soundly. Dean nodded his head and a half smirk displayed on his lips followed by an involuntary chuckle.

He eased himself up and leaned against the loft's railing. The urge for lights to go out was still calling him, but he'd be damn if evil messed up his life anymore. Allowing the pain to push through, he staggered to check Sam.

Sam's pulse and heart rate were steady. Dean untied the shirt covering the deep gashed in Sam's back. The wounds had coagulated and the blood was no longer flowing. As he re-tied the shirt, Sam stirred. It took a few moments, but Sam looked up at his brother.

"Dean?"

"Last I checked, Sparky"

"You look like shit"

"Ha… me…that's never happens. That's why I get all the ladies." Dean forced the jokes. He wasn't really in the mood to poke fun with Sam, but the last thing he needed was for Sam to worry about him.

"So, who's looks worst- you or the thing that got you," Sam moaned out as he sat punter

"I'm wiping the floor with him. Take it easy. I've got something I need to finish."

"Dean, you're doing no better than me"

"Get your ass up then! This mother's going down.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

After filling Sam in on the highlights of his recent royal rumble, Dean dumped the duffel's contents onto the floor. An assortment of guns with a several grenades splattered out in a massive pile.

"Think you got enough," Sam declared. "Did you leave anything in the car?"

"I would like to shove a WMD up this thing ass.". Dean's words may have been expressing his resolve to end the manticore's reign of terror, but his physical appearance was the polar opposite. Sam noted that Dean had not acknowledged his injury, but Sam was painfully aware it was not a scratch. Dean's body would jerk and shake, but somehow he fought back each time to stand his ground. After scrutinize him for a while, Sam realized Dean was hurt badly and far worse than his brother wanted to admit for the moment.

"Dean, you can't go down there. You never should have gone the first time. Man, you can't be pulling macho crap…Why do you do these thin…"

"Sam."

Sam's voice trailed off when Dean spoke his name. It wasn't harsh or an admonishment. Dean's eyes told Sam that he went down for him. Sam was bewildered by the lengths Dean went to protect him sometimes-like today. If you asked him about his brother, when he first pulled Sam on the road again, he would not have believed he would come to admire him more.

"In any case, we need a plan to do same damage to him" Sam's tone quickly changing to deal with business at hand.

"Hey I blinded it, cut off some toes, and put a huge hole in its belly, while you took a nap." Dean's usually cocky grin managed to surface for the first time since Sam awoke.

We need to corral this thing and feed it something it won't soon forget.