Super sorry for the wait...But here's the next chapter ^^;

Sequel to "I Hate Witches"

Takes place between "Scarecrow" and "Faith"

Supernatural: (C) Erik Kripke :3

Sam and Dean spent the next two hours just chatting away in Morse Code. It was a private conversation between John's sons, and despite the fact that he had been the one who taught them the code, due to all his Marine training, he found it hard to follow along and figure out what they were saying and gave up trying. Sometimes Dean would speak his answers to Sam, but for the majority of the conversation, it was Code, so John could only second-guess what they were talking about. They were tapping away so fast, it was a wonder how they even understood what the other was saying. It bewildered John. It seems his boys learned a trick or two in the time of his absence. It made his gut swell in pride.

"You raised those boys well, John," Bobby told him. He sat across from him at the kitchen table. Both had clear view of the living room where Sam and Dean were. Clare had taken up refuge on Bobby's lap to resume her afternoon nap.

"I know," John sighed, staring into the swirling foam of his coffee. The white cream blended in smoothly with the hot, black liquid. It was mesmerizing to watch. "I just wish I could have raised them better, treated them more like the sons that they are. If there's one thing that those two boys have taught me since this ordeal, it's that family is everything." And he'd be damned if he ever forgot that again.

Bobby smiled softly and stroked Clare's back. She gave a pleased trill and stretched out even more so he could get access to her belly. The older hunter laughed as he obliged.

Sam entered the kitchen a few minutes later, a big grin on his face as he headed over to the counter to refill his coffee mug.

"Hey, Sam, what's with the happy-go-lucky attitude?" Bobby asked the young hunter.

He was met by an "Hmm?" as Sam prepared his coffee the way he liked it; with three sugar cubes and overloaded with too much cream.

"I asked why you're Mr. Sunshine all of a sudden," Bobby repeated.

Sam turned back to him, his coffee steaming in the white porcelain mug, and smiled a toothy grin.

"You're kidding, right?" he scoffed. He then took a sip of the bitter liquid before answering. "I'm finally able to talk to my brother in a way we both can understand each other! Now he's less depressed and he's actually laughing, Bobby. You can't imagine how long it's been since I last heard him laugh….as his true self." Sam added quickly just as Bobby was about to remind him that Dean was a toddler just the day before, and had laughed almost every day since the witch's curse. Sam's voice was thick with emotion and he felt his throat constrict. His eyes became watery.

Bobby looked over at John, whose face mirrored Sam's. It seemed Dean's hardship had more of an effect on him than John let on. Bobby knew where Dean got his ability to hide his emotions behind a thick wall of self-confidence and stubborn determination. It was where Dean drew most of his protective energy from that drove him to make sure his Sammy stayed safe and alive. It was his duty as a big brother to look after him. And it was John's duty to protect his own sons. So it made sense that he would feel the most guilty about all of this.

After all, Dean was blind and deaf because of him. He had refused to listen to Sam's warnings, and now he was paying the consequences through Dean's suffering.

"It has been a long time since I heard him laugh, too," John admitted. "Too long…" he added as an afterthought. The last time Dean had laughed in his presence was during his teenage years. He thought he'd never hear it again. As he had watched Sam and Dean communicate, his heart ached when Dean's booming laughter filled the room, Sam's joining in not long after.

It reminded him of when they were younger and would secretly pass messages to each other as John was first teaching them Morse Code. Of course, they were scolded for not taking the lessons seriously, but as John looked and sounded mean on the outside, he was laughing with them on the inside. He knew his sons like he knew every exorcism in the journal he kept. Their conversations were bound to be a bit on the immature side, especially with Dean leading them.

"But don't worry," John continued, "We will find a way to get Dean's sight and hearing back. I'm not going to let that bitch win, and I'm certainly not going to sit around and watch her kill him."

"Ditto," Sam agreed with a firm nod.

"With the three of us standing guard, she won't get anywhere near Dean-"Bobby was interrupted by Clare growling in her sleep. It seemed like she was eavesdropping on them. The three hunters laughed. "Sorry, make that four," Bobby stroked Clare's back. Clare's mouth stretched into what Sam swore was another smile as she rolled a bit onto her side and began purring.

"But how do we kill a witch?" Sam wondered. He and Dean never came across one before, and they expected they never would. So they had no knowledge of what could harm a witch. And John seemed to acknowledge this fact by the way he was looking at him with a disappointing frown.

"You should know that, Sam. At least, you would if you two would have bothered to read my entry about witch lore."

Sam was about to reply with a bitter retort when he realized that John's voice had a bit of an amused edge to it. Plus the corners of his lips were twitching. He was trying his best not to smile and give away his bluff. But Sam's honed senses caught it anyways, and he chuckled, which in turn made John's face break into a smile of his own.

"Yeah, sorry, Dad. Dean and I just didn't figure we'd run into one. We just focused on the monsters that really mattered and were most often accounted for."

"It's fine, Sam. But you shouldn't brush away any information, no matter how unimportant it may be. I taught you and your brother to be ready for anything. And that included witches. So when we save Dean, I'm going to make you two read and memorize everything about witches that I have collected. Maybe next time Dean will learn never to mouth off to a witch."

Sam laughed. "Yeah, I doubt that-"He was cut off by a sudden, audible crack followed by a thud. The three hunters jumped nearly a foot in the air. Clare screeched and scrambled off of Bobby's leg and scurried to the living room, which was where the thud had originated from.

"DEAN!" Sam screamed, hurrying into the next room with Bobby and John in pursuit.

Dean was just attempting to pull himself up off the floor, Clare standing inches away from him. Sam's heart rate sped up when he saw blood flowing down from a slash in Dean's forehead. There were a few matching spots on the edge of the coffee table in front of Dean. It didn't take a brain suregeon to figure what had happened. Sam quickly knelt down beside Dean and grasped his shoulders. Dean flinched, but when he recognized the intruder of his personal space as his brother, he relaxed a hair.

"I'm f-fine, S-Sammy," he stuttered. "J-Just had to take a leak."

Sam ignored him and hastily tapped out "Are you okay?" with shaky hands.

Dean rolled his opaque eyes and sat back against the couch with Sam's help. "I guess you won't t-take 'I'm fine' for an answer, huh? I just stood up and then suddenly felt real dizzy. I fell, hitting something and that was when you decided to play knight in shining armor to save my damsel ass."

Sam scoffed at Dean's weak attempt to joke. As he checked the wound on Dean's head, he sternly tapped out his next message. "It's called disequilibrium, Jerk. Since there's damage to the vestibular system, you'll have more difficulties in standing or walking sometimes."

Dean grunted. "I thought you wanted to become a lawyer, not a doctor, Bitch." he muttered, thinking he said it low enough so Sam wouldn't hear. A slight cuff to the back of the head told Dean that he hadn't been quiet enough.

"Is he alright?" John asked. He and Bobby stood nearby, ready to help Sam with his stubborn brother. Sam nodded.

"Other than a moderate case of dizziness and a gash that doesn't look that bad, he's fine," Sam said, double checking the wound again. It was shallow, so it didn't require stitches. He breathed in relief. "I'll clean and disinfect it. C'mon, bro. "Sam tapped out the last sentence on Dean's shoulder before he helped him stand. Dean was still a bit wobbly, so Sam took liberty and placed his brother's left arm around his shoulders and, together, the two made their way slowly up the staircase with Clare trailing after them.

TBC...