A/N: Hi Guys! So as usual, a big thank you to all who reviewed! I noticed that a lot of you guys are asking for longer chapters, and fair enough. So I put the question to you, a) Longer chapters, less frequent updates.
or
b) Chapter size varies, more frequent updates (eg what I've been doing)

The fact is I can't update as regularly if I'm writing the longer chapters you guys seem to want. So, in saying that, please let me know in a review which you'd prefer. I'll tally up the votes by the time the next update comes around (probably next Thursday) and then we'll see what happens.
Thanks!

John Winchester had followed behind Bobby Singer as the two men left the teen to his breakfast. They moved themselves into the study next door.

John headed straight for the lumpy sofa shoved in the corner, while Bobby paused to slide the door to the study shut. John brought his hand up to cover his weary eyes as he leant back against the cushions. Driving through the night had been the only way to get them to safety but now the eldest Winchester could feel exhaustion pulling at him. With energy that was pure stubbornness, John fought the tempting call of sleep back.

"He's a good kid, John." Bobby's voice sounded. "Foolish and bull-headed like his daddy, but a good kid."

John let out a snort. He sat forward, moving his hand from his face and putting both his arms to lean against his knees.

"You'll need to be careful, though." Bobby continued. "That boy ain't like Dean or Sam. He's not going to know or respect you like a boy should his father, and you expecting him to is just gonna bring trouble." Bobby mused almost as if thinking aloud.

John turned a sour look on one of the few friends he had left in this world. He and Bobby had never seen eye to eye when it came to John's boys. There was always the possibility of an argument breaking out between them over it. But truth was, John had come to rely on the other man's no-nonsense manner. It had helped pull him back from the edge more than once.

"I know that." John told the other man grudgingly. "I just-," He trailed off and ran a hand through his hair. "You should've seen him, Bobby. He's covered head to toe in bruises and he didn't say a damn thing. If that had been Sam or Dean at that age, I'd have listened to the bitchin' the whole way here." John sighed.

He could see Bobby leaning against his desk, arms crossed as the man gazed steadily at him. But John couldn't meet his eye. Instead, the Winchester patriarch stared at the wall of books facing him.

"It's not just that, either." John hesitantly admitted. "He's been in the country less than two weeks and already he's been hunted by a vamp and attacked by a demon."

"You Winchester's have made plenty of enemies. Some of 'em powerful." Bobby conceded. "Not surprising they'd be looking for some kind of revenge."

"Exactly. Only the kid doesn't know anything about this life, or how to protect himself." Even as he spoke, John's mind flashed back to the bus terminal. He'd heard the shotgun go off, rock salt rounds flinging the demon away from him. And when he'd turned, John had caught sight of the boy, his boy, on one knee with the shotgun in his hands and a fierce look in his eyes.

"So what are you going to do?" Bobby asked, bringing John's attention back to the conversation at hand.

But John didn't have an easy answer to give.

What was he going to do?

He shook his head as his eyes travelled down to gaze at his clasped hands.

"You could send him back where he came from." Bobby suggested. "Someone's got to be missing the kid by now." John could tell from his friends tone that Bobby wasn't inclined to think that was the best option. And despite himself, John couldn't help but agree.

He was shaking his head even before he'd decided on what to say. "I asked him about his family. His mom died when he was young, and he was left with an aunt and uncle. I didn't get the impression it was a happy arrangement." John grunted.

"No. Neither did I." Bobby agreed with a sigh.

John closed his eyes to fight off the dread and anger that roiled in his gut. There had been all kinds of warning signs coming off the kid over the last few days, but John had tried to ignore them for the most part. But if Bobby was seeing them too…

Being a hunter meant seeing the nastier side of life. Both supernatural nasty and plain old human nasty. It was an unfortunate part of the job but it meant John and Bobby had both seen their fair share of victims of abuse. And Harry practically screamed it. The kid's stubbornness aside, everything about him seemed to say 'treat with kid gloves'.

'Well, almost every part of him,' John thought as his mind once again flashed back to that fierce look in the boy's eyes.

John moved his hand to scrub at his sore eyes.

"I can't send him back if-," John couldn't bring himself to finish the sentence. From the way Bobby frowned it was clear he'd heard the unspoken part anyway.

There was no way John could send the kid back if it was to an abusive home.

"So don't." Bobby said simply, shrugging his shoulders.

John glanced to his friend for the first time. He wondered if it could ever be that easy an answer.

"He's not safe here." John reminded the other man.

"If we're right, he ain't safe there either." And John had no response to that.

He let himself fall back against the cushions once again. His gaze returned to staring pensively at the wall of books in front of him.

"He can't travel with me. I'm too close to the yellow eyed demon." John said, breaking the silence that had fallen over the two friends for the last several minutes.

"Just ask, Winchester." Bobby grunted. John could practically hear the other man's eyes rolling.

"Would you let him stay here?" John asked, turning to face Bobby. "I'm close to killing the sonofa bitch that killed my Mary, I know I am. And when I have, I'll come back." John promised solemnly.

"And then what? You going to raise another hunter?" Bobby demanded sourly.

John considered his next words very carefully even as he swallowed his initial urge to snap back at the man. They were treading perilously close to the old argument between them. If he said the wrong thing, John may ruin any chance his youngest son had.

"I'll teach him how to protect himself." John finally decided on.

"That all?" Bobby's eyebrows were raised and he was staring at John intensely. He was watching for any lies the older Winchester might try pass as truths.

Under that scrutinising gaze, John decided to be as honest as he could be. "I don't yet. The cats already out of the bag, the kid knows there are ugly, evil things in our world." John said. "I'll give him the choice and I'll help him, no matter what he decides."

John held his friends gaze for several long seconds before Bobby grudgingly nodded his head in acceptance.

"Alright. I suppose I can't ask for much better than that." Bobby decided. "I'll look after the boy, but you better make sure you get your ass back quick. Lord knows you've already missed enough of that boy's life."

John bristled at that. He opened his mouth to send back a snappish retort, when they were interrupted by a muffled yell.

John and Bobby were both on their feet and heading in the direction the sound had come from. A quick glance in the kitchen on the way past showed it empty of any teenagers. Bobby picked up one of the shotguns propped up beside his front door before the two men were bursting out onto the porch.

Immediately, John's eyes went to the teenager sitting propped up against the house. Distressed noises were escaping from the clearly sleeping boy. He was thrashing slightly, tears staining his cheeks from where they'd leaked out of closed eyelids.

"Rumsfeld!" Bobby called, trying to gain the dogs attention. The black and tan dog was whining agitatedly, sniffing and poking at Harry with its nose. As Bobby stepped forward to pull the dog away, John dropped onto his knees beside the teen.

"Harry?" He called, hesitating with his hands raised in the air.

Harry didn't seem to hear him. He was still deeply asleep, still thrashing and letting out the worst kind of noise.

John clasped the teen by his arms and gave the boy a light shake. "Harry!" He called again. And then louder when that still garnered no response.

"One hell of a nightmare." Bobby commented from somewhere behind the two.

John nodded his head in agreement even as he gave the teen a harder shake. "HARRY!" He shouted.

The teen sprung awake, his struggling increasing even as his bright green eyes looked around unseeingly. John was forced to clamp his hands tighter to the boy's arms in an attempt to stop him from hurting himself.

"Harry!" John called but the boy didn't seem to hear him.

"SIRIUS!" Harry yelled hoarsely. "SIRIUS!" He screamed. A wordless scream followed as the boy desperately struggled to free himself.

John held on tightly and allowed a mantra of reassuring words to flow from his lips. Words he was sure Harry wasn't hearing. Eventually the kid's screams tapered off into choked sobbing. His face twisting with grief that seemed far beyond his age.

John acted on instinct. He pulled the kid tight to his chest, his hand going into the unruly black hair and his other hand rubbing the kids back up and down. "It's alright, you're alright. Shush. I've got you. I've got you, son." John murmured even as he could hear the broken sounds of the teenager sobbing into his chest.

"My fault. All my fault." The kid repeated in a hoarse whimper, over and over. In response, John could do nothing more than hold him tighter. They stayed like that until eventually the kids sobbing petered off entirely, and the hand that had been clutching tightly to the back of John's shirt eased off.

"Let's get him inside." Bobby suggested gruffly from where he'd stood as a silent sentry behind them.

John nodded his head in agreement. He stood to his feet, pulling a rather pliant Harry with him. The teen was awake but his expression was closed off and vacant. He followed after John when the older man led him inside but there was something disturbingly lacking in his movements. The boy's face was blank as John helped lower him down to the sofa the older man had just recently vacated.

"Is he in shock?" John asked, turning to look over at Bobby. The other man had followed close behind Harry in case they needed help getting him inside.

"I'm not sure." Bobby admitted with a frown. "How's his pulse?"

John stepped forward, crouching down to place two of his fingers against Harry's neck. The kid didn't react to the touch. His eyes were staring, unfocused and fogged, straight ahead.

"Seems normal." John muttered. His hand moved of its own accord to rub up along the side of the teen's head and into his hair.

"Best we can do for him is keep him warm and safe. He'll come round when he's ready." Bobby announced before he turned to head back outside and settle the still agitated Rumsfeld.

John didn't turn to see his friend leave. Instead he focused on grabbing the old patched blanket thrown over the back of the sofa, and wrapping it around Harry. John's hand fond itself back in the kid's hair as he stroked the messy locks comfortingly.

"Alright," He murmured before standing and taking a seat next to the kid. "Alright."

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