Chapter 8

Dedicated to Sylia91. Thanks as always, to Soar, JuliaAurelia and Sinead-Conlan

Disclaimer: Still don't own them.

Dean awoke early the next morning. It hadn't been a good night, he hadn't wanted to sleep because he was worried about nightmares. He didn't have them often, but when he did, they tended to hit hard and he was worried about accidentally pulling his IV again. He didn't want them to have to call his father. Right now, his father and brother were the last people he wanted to see.

Dean loved his family more than anything, but right now, he was sure he hated them. Why did they always have to fight? Was it too much to ask that just for one day, they didn't have to snipe at each other, or if they had to fight, was it too much to ask to not be put in the middle, something that seemed to be happening more and more. It seemed, in addition to being in the middle, he was actually the subject of the argument, and he Dean found himself sick of it.

It really hurt when the two people he cared about the most argued about him. He just wished he knew how to stop it.

He didn't always follow orders, and he wasn't a saint. Sam knew that, because his brother had covered for him, when he screwed up many times.

The biggest cover up came from a party that Dean had really wanted to go to, he had a date with Rebecca Evans, one of the hottest girls in school, but John had said no. Sam covered for him then, and the following morning, when Dean had been hungover. He wasn't supposed to have been drinking.

He wasn't a mindless robot either, he could make decisions for himself, and he had, even stupid ones. He and Rebecca had ended up in the back of the Impala. It was the first time for both of them, and they had been so caught up in the moment that they hadn't used a condom.

Sam had sat with him at the doctor's office while Rebecca had a check up. He was relieved to know that his dad had no idea how close he had come to being a grandfather. Dean was forever grateful that Sam never held that over his head. It would be prime black mail material for anything Sam wanted.

The thought of that time, when Sam had his back, was getting to him the most. He missed those times, and now it seemed that the only times Sam wanted anything to do with him was when he let his brother get his own way.

He really had to stop this line of thought. The problem was that he didn't have anything else to do. His father hadn't brought him any magazines, and he had made up his mind that he wasn't going to write anymore. See Sammy, I can make my own decisions.

He was actually thankful when Nurse Hatcher showed up for his check up, it gave him something else to think about, and he was glad that his nurse didn't mention the day before.

"Well, Dean, I do have some good news for you," Nurse Hatcher said as she finished noting Dean's chart.

"What's that?" he asked.

"Dr. Curtis is very pleased with your progress, and ordered that your IV be removed this morning."

"Seriously?" Dean asked, afraid to believe it.

"Yes," Nurse Hatcher said and gave a small laugh at the way her patient's eyes lit up.

"When do I get out of this?" he asked indicating the traction frame.

"Dr. Curtis is hoping for early next week."

"Can't you just cast it?" Dean requested.

"The break was severe, Dean. It's going to take time to heal, and these things can't be rushed."

"It sucks," Dean mumbled.

"Hey, it's not so bad. You get the pleasure of my company," Nurse Hatcher joked. She truly felt for her patient. She had a feeling that the scene from last night was not a one time occurrence. "Give me your hand and we'll get that out for you," she added after failing to get a rise out of her patient. She knew how bad he must be feeling, because he always had a quick come back line for her. "Do you want to call your family?" she offered as she put a bandage over the spot where she had pulled the needle.

"No," Dean mumbled.

"Okay," Nurse Hatcher said gently. "Do you need anything?"

"No," Dean said, shaking his head. "I'm still a bit tired. I think I'll try and take a nap."

"Okay," Nurse Hatcher said. She didn't want to press him. "You know how to get in touch if you need anything."

"Thanks," Dean said sincerely.

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The long morning that Dean was currently facing got even longer when his next visitor showed up. He was working on homework, his dad was respecting his wishes and had one of the orderlies drop it off, he was having trouble concentrating though, and couldn't work out the answer to the problem. Getting frustrated, he swiped his hand across the table and swept his books onto the floor. He cursed himself when he realized that he was going to need help to pick them up.

"I used to do that with my math book as well," a voice said as a stranger came in and picked up the book.

Dean startled and looked up at the sound of the voice. He cursed himself when he realized that he hadn't even heard anyone come into the room. Some hunter he was.

"Thanks," he said as he accepted the book, and he immediately felt himself tense up when he saw the official looking woman standing before him.

She was dressed in a light brown, business suit. Her hair was pulled back away from her face in a bun. Dean knew instantly who she worked for, he'd dealt with her kind before.

"Hello, Dean, I'm Samantha Anderson. I work for DCFS," Samantha said as she stretched her hand toward the young man in the bed. She wasn't surprised when he ignored it and could see the mask that slammed down over Dean's features at her introduction. She had a feeling that he had spoken to her department before, and she made a mental note to check on his files.

Dean continued to eye her warily as she took a seat next to his bed.

"It's standard procedure for us to be called when there is an incident like the one last night."

"It was just an argument. My dad's got two teenagers. They happen," Dean said hoping to make this go away.

"I understand that, Dean," she said gently, hoping to work through his defences. "It's just that the argument was overheard by several people, and there were some rather troubling statements. What about your brother telling your father that he wished he would just go away again. Does your father go away a lot?"

"No," Dean lied.

"Then why did your brother comment that he liked it better when your father wasn't home and you were in charge?"

"Look lady," Dean snapped. "You need to get you facts straight. I look after my brother while my dad's at work. I tend to let Sam get away with more. You tell a teenager no, they get in a snit. That's all it was," he insisted.

"I'm not the enemy here..."

"Then stop trying to make my dad sound like the bad guy. He's not. He's the best dad there is."

"Then why don't you want to see him, or talk to him?"

"Who said that?" Dean demanded. He was going to kill his nurse.

"You did, last night," Samantha reminded Dean.

"Well, I was just mad. Didn't you ever say something you didn't mean?"

"Why were you mad?"

"It's not going to work," Dean said, not wanting to say something he would regret. "My dad is an awesome dad, and I wouldn't trade my little brother for anything. Do you understand that?"

"Yes, I do," Samantha said. "Tell me about the night of the accident."

"The police report is a matter of public record, look it up," Dean sniped.

"You were on the way to the school when a drunk driver ran a red light..."

"If you knew, why did you ask? Don't you need my dad's permission to talk to me?" Dean asked.

"No, I can speak to you without a parent's permission."

Dean suddenly wished that Sammy was here. The kid knew everything, and Dean had no idea if she was lying to him or not. Dean realized that she was talking again and he forced himself to pay attention.

"Why wasn't your father with you?"

"He had to work," Dean lied.

"Does your father miss a lot of things with you and your brother?"

Dean couldn't take it anymore. "Stop it!" he insisted. "I told you before, my dad's the best. Any kid would be lucky to have him. You may not need my dad's permission, but you know what, you need mine, and I'm done talking."

Dean really wished that he could storm out of the room, but he was stuck. He settled for staring at the wall.

"There are still a few more..."

"Get out!" Dean insisted. "I'm not answering any more questions."

Knowing she would get no further, Samantha stood up. She decided that this wasn't over .

Dean watched her walk out the door, but he knew that she wasn't gone for good. He picked up the phone and dialled the convenience store where his father worked.

"Dad, it's Dean. We've got trouble."

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Giving one last disgusted look at the pile of slop in front of him, Dean dropped his fork on the plastic tray of the thing they said was food. He'd have to take the "if you don't eat, you won't get better" lecture from his nurse, but Dean decided that was better than eating any more of this swill. He pushed his plate aside. That stuff wasn't food, it was Darwinism.

The rest of the day passed slowly. Dean's father had been concerned, but he promised to handle it. Knowing his dad would, Dean tried to relax and concentrate on his homework, but ended up wearing out the rest of his batteries for his walkman. As much as he didn't want to talk to his father, he was anxious to find out what was going on.

He was also getting seriously bored, so he was very relieved when Justin showed up for his visit.

"Is that food?" Justin asked eyeing Dean's tray. "Oh, I brought those books for you." Justin put the books on the end of Dean's bed. He didn't want to get to close to the tray. It looked like it was alive.

"They're trying to tell me it is," Dean replied. "Want some? I think it's supposed to be spa..." Dean's words stopped abruptly when he saw that Justin had the beginnings of a black eye. "What happened to you?" he asked, feeling himself grow angry.

Justin shrugged as if was no big deal. "It's just Mike Everleigh and his gang. Mr. Peter's gave a pop quiz in math yesterday. He was mad I wasn't there for him to cheat off. He's officially on academic probation, and if he fails one more test, he can't play sports."

Dean knew that most of his teachers gave the athletes special treatment. His math teacher did not and it was one of the things Dean respected about him most, and his temper grew when jerks like Mike could get away anything simply because he could throw a ball. Dean wished he wasn't laid up and could try out for the football team. It would really give him a good opportunity to lay a pounding on the idiot without getting in trouble. His dad really frowned on him fighting at school. That was rule number 2, right behind attendance.

Dean had always been surprised that his father had cared about whether or not he went to school. His dad didn't care about grades, just as long as he didn't flunk. He said that skipping school was one of the biggest ways of getting the attention of social services. Considering he had missed two weeks of school, and they had showed up, maybe his dad was right.

"You have to stand up to that guy," Dean encouraged.

"It's easy to say that, but it's not just Mike. If he gets banned, we lose the games, and the championship, and then the whole school's mad at me."

Dean had never really thought about it that way. Justin did have a point, and he admitted that. "I just wish there was a way I could get the guy off my back without it coming to that," Justin stated wistfully.

"Tell me about it," Dean mumbled.

Justin looked at him in surprise. "I would have thought things were easy for you."

It was Dean's turn to look dumbfounded. "Why do you say that?" he asked curiously.

"You can have any girl in school, and even the football players are afraid of you."

"I hate school," Dean admitted. "No, I don't get picked on, but things aren't easy."

"How?" Justin asked. He was curious about his new friend. They'd talked quite a bit the other day, but Dean was guarded about how much personal information he released.

"It's just that, you said you can't stand up to Mike without everyone getting mad, right?" Justin nodded. "It's the same way with me, but it's not jerks at school, it's my father and my brother."

I really hope he's not about to tell me what I think he is, Justin thought. If Dean admitted to being abused, he didn't have a clue what to do.

"It's just me, my dad, and my little brother. I'd do anything for them. I mean, my dad tells me to get my grades up. I do just that by getting an A+ on my essay. I even won something for it. I asked dad and Sammy to come to the ceremony and they forgot. My dad apologised, but Sammy, he didn't even remember. Was it too much to ask that they come? It would be nice, if once, just once, they'd do something for me," Dean exploded.

The young man sitting next to Dean's bed wondered if his friend had forgotten that he was in the room.

"Dean, I..." Justin started. How did you respond to that? Should he remind his friend that he had an audience?

"I just wish..." Dean's tirade stopped at Justin's words, and he remembered that he wasn't alone. He knew how his words sounded, and knew he better clear them up before Justin called social services himself. "I don't mean I'm neglected, my dad's the best, it's just that he's busy," Dean explained, and Justin sighed in relief. "My dad works, so I help out at home, and with Sammy. The problem is that Sammy's 13 and he wants to do his own thing. Older brothers aren't cool anymore, unless he and his friends need a ride somewhere. My mom... she di... she... anyway, Dad's a little protective of us, and I tend to say yes more than he does."

Justin could guess where this was going. He felt bad about Dean's mother. He knew how he'd feel if something happened to his. "Your brother's mad because your father's saying no, and he's not used to it. My little sister's the same way. She just turned 12 and thinks she's all grown up." He was surprised to learn this about Dean. He had thought Dean had it easy, he had the looks, he was smart and friendly, and girls fawned all over him. Justin had wished several times that he could have changed places with Dean, now he wasn't so sure. His father had always told him not to judge a book by its cover. "It's just like me being caught between the school and the football players, you're caught between your dad and brother. If you break the rules, your dad gets mad, and if you follow them, your brother does. You can't win no matter what you do."

"Jus, I'm sorry, I didn't mean..." Dean replied, he hoped he didn't sound as frantic as he felt. He couldn't believe he had just let all that slip to a total stranger, he didn't reveal things like that.

"Dean, like you told me yesterday, we all need to vent. I don't mind," Justin said sincerely. "I promise, man, I won't say a word to anyone."

"Thanks," Dean replied.

"There is one condition, though," Justin said trying to keep the grin off his face. He wanted to lighten the mood.

Dean froze for a moment. Was there anyone that didn't want something from him? "What?" he said warily.

"Can you get me a date with Brenda?" he finally grinned, as did Dean when he realized Justin was joking with him. Brenda Abrams was the head cheerleader and Mike's girlfriend. Hitting on her was the best way to get yourself beat up.

Dean felt all the tension drain out of him. That's what friends did, right? Wait, did he have a friend? Is that how Sammy did it? He'd have to ask Sammy, if his brother would talk to him. If friends did things for each other, maybe Justin could do something for him.

"Sure, but I get to add a condition as well," Dean added.

"What's that?" Justin asked, a little nervous.

"Finish this slop for me, okay?" he said indicating his food tray. "I don't want another lecture from Nurse Ratched."

Both boys finally gave into laughter, lightening the tension in the room considerably.

------

Justin did keep his word. He didn't tell anyone what Dean had shared, the problem was that the conversation had been overheard. By the last person Dean would have wanted to hear it.

TBC

A/N: Why Sam hasn't mentioned forgetting Dean's award will be addressed in the next chapter. Please remember to read and review, it makes my day.