Carrying a plastic bag from a retail outlet and a paper sack of burgers, John gets back to the cabin in less than two hours. He enters quietly, knowing Bobby is probably still sleeping to find that Dean is the only one awake. With his floppy-haired little brother sleeping with his head on the table, Dean is leaning on him scratching him on the temple. The picture it makes almost brings a smile to John's face; Dean with a bandana wrapped like a toga in a gauze turban reaching through long strands of russet colored hair to soothe his brother like one might pet a puppy.
John sets the bags on top of the dresser, tossing his keys next to them. "You baby him too much." Their father says it matter-of-factly. This is a discussion they've had before and the one area where Dean has always refused to obey John's orders. "He's supposed to be keeping watch. What could you do if something happened?"
"Wake him up." Dean shrugs, his answer has a ring of truth, so John drops the subject. "It's just as well he's sleeping. I need to talk to you before you go with Bobby…"
"I'm not going anywhere!" Dean stops leaning on Sam and limps closer to his father. "I need to be here to get changed back."
"You don't get a say in this." There's a dangerous glint in John's eyes as he moves closer to Dean, but he is still keeping his voice down. "You aren't in any shape to hunt right now. Hell, you're useless for research even. You'd be a distraction and something that needs constant care. And you brought it on yourself with stupid, reckless behavior. Well, I don't have time to coddle you, and I need your brother's full attention focused on the hunt. You're going with Bobby when he gets up. Try not to be too much trouble. And keep your mouth shut."
Dean rocks a little, like the words hit him with physical force. "I'm not useless." He starts to defend himself, but then he stops.
"That's right, Dean. Can't even think how you'll be helpful, can you? Hell, you can't feed yourself…you can't even get to the bathroom without help." John roughly unwraps a set of Ken doll clothes, a short sleeved top and elastic-waist sweat pants. "Get dressed."
Across the room, Bobby clears his throat. He overheard John, and knows there's truth in what he said. He just wishes John didn't feel the need to cut Dean's spirit down, especially when the boy's already facing problems. Bobby decides to play it like he didn't hear the conversation. "What time is it?" He asks sleepily, sitting up with a groan.
"Bout time for you to wake up." John answers. "How you feeling?"
Bobby takes stock, he tries stretching, but winces from the pain. "Like something a dog mauled. Course it was a wolf, not a dog, but you get the point."
Sam too stirs, jerking his head up and wiping his mouth where the drool has been pooling. "Dad! You're back!" He looks around and spots Dean wearing a red short-sleeve shirt with a Velcro fastener in the front and blue sweat pants too big in the waist, but fitting snugly through the butt. When Dean sees his brother's stare, he ducks his head. "Dean, why'd you let me fall asleep?"
John snorts. "Lucky for you it was me who came through that door. You were supposed to be keeping watch, instead I come back to tiny Tim there being the only one awake. What good do you think he'd of been if something other than me came in?"
"I know!" Sam grows agitated. "I was supposed to be watching over him! I'm sorry Dad."
Bobby groans as he gets up, and only part of it is physical pain. He knows that what Sam just said cut his brother to the bone. He needs to get around and get Dean out of here before any more damage is done, but he can't. John walks over to the table and scoops Dean up. Dean squeaks, and grabs onto his father's wrist. John carries him into the bathroom and barks, "Do your business."
Sam's watching and his mouth draws into a frown. "You know he's still a person, Dad, not some pest. You could have asked him before you grabbed him."
"I don't have time for niceties right now, Sam. Eat up. We've got work to do. I've got to get your brother ready to leave with Bobby." John's bustling around the room. He throws Dean's big people clothes in his duffel, and zips it before setting it by the door. Next he takes a soft-side cat carrier out of the store bag, ripping off tags. He bundles the things from Dean's pockets, his boots, socks, jeans, and bandana inside the case – then he snatches up a hamster water bottle before he storms back into the bathroom.
"You finished?" John demands. Dean who's standing on the counter now nods, and John fills the water bottle. "You're gonna need to stay hydrated. This seemed the best way without spilling things." John pretends he doesn't notice the tears filling his son's eyes as he picks him up and carries him to the cat carrier, pushing him through the door and fastening the water bottle before shutting and zipping the case.
"There. Whenever you're ready, Bobby, you can take off. This should keep him safe – it has slots to fit a seatbelt through." Bobby and Sam are both staring open mouthed at John. The oldest Winchester shrugs. "The sooner we all get going the sooner we can get Dean back to normal. I'm just trying to keep him safe."
"But Dad, I was going to take care of Dean," Sam argues, pulling himself up to his lanky almost six feet of teenage anger.
"Well, you pretty much proved you can't. Bobby's taking him to some friends in Nebraska while we look for the witch and her coven. And I need your help here, Sam. I need you one-hundred percent focused if you ever want your brother back to normal. Got that?"
Sam deflates. "Yes, sir." He shuffles in place a minute. Just let me get him some food and tell him goodbye?"
"Make it fast." John is gathering up Dean's duffel and heading to Bobby's truck. Bobby has been wolfing down his sandwich. He pauses long enough to pat Sam's shoulder. "I'll take good care of him, kid. You just do what you've gotta do to get him back."
"Thanks, Bobby." Sam waits until he walks out and crouches down to peer into the cat carrier. Dean's sitting with his back to the door and his head bowed. "Dean? Hey, man, I've got some burger for you. I'm gonna put it in this food thing here. Dean?"
His brother's reply is too muffled to make out, and Sam's pretty sure Dean is crying. His heart twinges in regret. "Are you okay? Are you hurting? Is there anything I can get to make you more comfortable, you know."
"No, Man. I'm good Sammy. You just – take care of yourself and Dad for me. Okay."
Dean still hasn't turned around, and Sam waits a moment before giving up. He straightens, but before he picks up the case he warns his brother and watches as Dean braces himself. "You okay, Dean?"
Dean chuckles dryly. "Yeah, Man, but it's like flying – all this being moved around. I, umm, not much for flying."
Sam nods, then realizes his brother didn't see him. "Yeah, I know that. Dean…" It comes out whinier than he wants. "Dean, tell me you'll be okay. That you won't do anything stupid. That you know that no matters what happens I still need you. Please, Dean."
Dean wipes his face in both hands and gets up, turning around and peering out the mesh of the carrier. His voice is gruff and a little watery. "Sam, don't worry about me. Just do what you got to do, okay?"
Sam won't let himself try. "Yeah, Man. You know it."
His brother gives him a crooked smile. "That's my boy."
