Disclaimer: I own the idea behind the story and characters you've never heard of before.

If looks could kill, then the look that Caleb gave Dean now would've put him six feet under five minutes ago. "Get your ass back in that bed!" he yelled.

"Caleb?" Dean repeated, totally confused that his friend was actually in the room.

"Yes, Dean," I said. "It's Caleb. Now, what are you doing out of bed?" I wanted to know why he was standing, but I knew how to go about it in other ways besides yelling.

"Bathroom."

"Let us help you," I said making a move to go over and help him.

He tried to move away from me and Caleb, but found himself frozen. "I'm not five years old anymore."

"I don't give a damn, Dean," I replied. "We're helping you."

He sighed, his resolve crumbling and giving into my rationalization. But he held the defiance in his eyes.

We helped him to the bathroom, let him relieve himself, and then helped him back to his bed. When he was sitting comfortably on the bed he smiled. "Couldn't stand to be away, couldn't you Caleb?"

At least the boy was well enough to be joking around with Caleb. But then again, Caleb always had a way of pulling Dean out of whatever trouble he was in. "I needed to make sure that you're ass was still alive. You still owe me sixty bucks."

Dean let out a short laugh. "Thanks for coming, Caleb," Dean whispered with much appreciation.

He smiled at the younger hunter. "Don't even worry about it, Blaze," Caleb said, giving Dean the reassurance only he could give.

"You think you well enough to get something in your stomach?" I asked.

"It depends," Dean started. "Are you going to lace that with something too?" He glared at me.

"Like it even mattered, Blaze, because from what I can see, you're awake right now."

"Probably only because he cut the dosage," he complained. "And I think that an exploding bladder trumps sedatives any day." Caleb and I let out a short laugh. "So, what do I get to eat?"

I looked over him a few times. "Soup," I replied. "You're too thin."

"It's not my fault," he complained.

"Well, you're eating soup. Start you off small." The treatment was the best at the moment. His body probably wasn't able to handle solid foods yet.

"Sounds delicious," Dean replied. Caleb took the opportunity and sat in the chair that was at Dean's bedside.

I left the room to make the soup and when I returned, soup in hand, I was met with the same Caleb death glare that Dean was on the receiving end of a few minutes ago. "Bobby," Caleb growled.

I put the soup down on the nightstand next to his bed. "What?" Usually I had an idea of what I did to deserve any form of anger coming in my direction. This time, I had none. My eyes darted back and forth between Dean and Caleb.

"I swear, Bobby. I didn't know. I thought you told him."

"How could you not tell me that they cut Blaze up! And what the hell do they want with his heart? How could you keep any of this from me? Did you think I wasn't going to find out? All you told me was that he was outnumbered. Are you friggin' kidding me?"

"I'm sorry, Bobby," Dean apologized again. "I thought that you would've told him."

"Don't worry about it, Dean. Just get some food in you," I replied. Dean took the bowl from the nightstand and started sipping from it. I turned my attention back to Caleb's verbal attack. "I was going to tell you, but not without all the facts straight."

He stood up and kicked the chair away from Dean's bedside. "That's why I'm here, Bobby!" Caleb protested. "To help. I can't do that if you leave things out."

"I'm not leaving anything out!" I yelled, my frustration and exhaustion getting the better of me. But I did understand Caleb's frustration. I also wanted to know all the information, but other than asking the demons themselves, we weren't going to get anything. "I don't know any more than what the kid is telling me."

"The kid sitting right here," Dean said.

"Eat your soup," we yelled at him. Immediately, I felt guilty, and I'm pretty sure that Caleb felt it too. There wasn't a real reason why we yelled at Dean, but we were both frustrated and in a yelling fit that it was hard to turn it off just to reply to him.

Lucky for us, he understood. But that didn't stop us from continuing our fight. "You should've told me whatever you knew, Bobby."

"I didn't know anything, therefore I didn't tell you anything. So, quit yelling at me."

"I can yell all I want when it comes to Blaze!"

"You're not the only person who cares about him!"

Dean slowly sipped his soup as he watched us argue. It must've been quite entertaining to him. I watched him out of the corner of my eye, making sure he was trying to eat. He finished most of the bowl before he put it back on the nightstand. I would've tended to him if I weren't so occupied with the assault I was receiving from Caleb. "I can't help you if I don't know what's going on! I need to know what's going on!"

"You're not the only person in the dark here. Everyone in this room is. I understand that you want to get whoever did this to Dean, but you need to calm down."

I saw him pick up the bowl and take one more sip from it. Dean quickly brought his knees to his chest, resting his head on them and groaned. That halted the argument as soon as Dean looked like he was in pain. "Dean?" we asked.

"Trashcan," he said weakly.

Caleb was out of the room as soon as the words left his mouth. I took the bowl from his hands and set it aside. I took a seat on the bed next to him trying to keep his head between his knees. "Breathe, Dean."

"Trying," he forced out. "You poisoned me."

God, I loved the kid for his good timing. He always knew how to joke to make me feel better even if he was miserable. "Didn't do a good job," I joked back. "You're still alive, aren't you?"

"For now."

Caleb ran back in with a trashcan in hand and put it right in front of Dean. His timing couldn't have been more perfect because Dean vomited into the can as soon as it was in his sight. "Easy, easy," I whispered over and over, rubbing circles in his back.

"Just breathe, Blaze," Caleb coached.

His entire body was covered in a sheet of sweat, and even though he tried to hide it, he was shaking. "Good boy, Dean," I whispered.

"What did you put in the soup?" Caleb asked me.

"Shut up." Dean let out a laugh. "Dean, when was the last time you ate?" He held up four fingers than shook his hand to say more or less. My guess was that it was more. "Perfect."

"What?" Dean and Caleb asked.

"Didn't realize how long you've gone without food."

"You didn't know." The kid was blameless.

I walked back into the kitchen to fetch two glasses of water. I put more of the sedative in one of them and went back into Dean's room. Caleb had taken the trashcan out of his arms and put it in the furthest corner. I handed Dean one of the glasses. "Wash," I said. He sloshed the water in his mouth and Caleb brought the trashcan back for him to spit.

I handed him the other glass and waited for him to drink it. "Drugged?"

"Yes," I replied. It was no sense trying to lie to him and use the same trick twice in a day.

He put the glass on the nightstand. "I'm not thirsty."

"The hell you aren't," I replied. "You're drinking that water."

"No."

"Dean, just drink the water," Caleb said.

"Traitor."

"You either drink it willingly, or I'm going to force it down your throat," he threatened.

"I want to see you try," Dean challenged.

Caleb walked over to the nightstand and took the cup of water. He stood over the prone Winchester with the cup in hand. "Open up."

Dean stared at him with eyes full of betrayal. "Caleb?"

"You need to sleep, Blaze," he replied. His voice soft. "I'm perverse and resolute when it comes to keeping you safe." He held the cup out to Dean. "You should know that by now." Dean stared at the cup in front of him. "You know I'm just trying to help."

Dean took the cup and drank from it. He laid back down, knowing full well that he didn't have the energy to fight off another sedation attempt. And even if he did, he wouldn't have been able to take on me or Caleb. "Tell me how you're feeling, Dean," I asked.

"Tired."

"Anywhere hurting?"

He shook his head from side to side. "Not now."

I stroked his hair, helping to ease him into sleep. He moaned as he fell deeper into relaxation. "You still with me, Dean?" I asked.

"Barely," he whispered.

"Just go to sleep, son. I'm going to check your bandages and injuries when you're out."

When his breathing evened out, I stood up from his side. I was so absorbed with getting Dean to sleep that I didn't realize Caleb wasn't in the room until I turned around. And along with him, out of the room was the trashcan that he brought in.

In the quiet of the room, I gingerly rolled Dean onto his side to make sure that wounds on his back were healing the way I wanted them to. There were only specks of blood, which was a good thing in my book. I pushed on his ribs, receiving the same reactions when I pushed in the places that were bruised and broken. The vomiting didn't seem to jostle anything since he still hadn't coughed up blood. That meant there were no internal injuries, which I was grateful for.

In the end, all of the bandages were still in place and didn't need any new medication. I put him under all of the blankets in the room, hoping that it would break his fever. That was the most critical thing I felt I needed to worry about.

I left Dean's room and saw Caleb sitting in the study looking through some books. "Is he asleep?" he asked, not looking up from what he was reading.

"Yeah. He won't be waking up from that amount of sedative any time soon. Especially on an empty stomach."

"That's good," Caleb replied. He kept is eyes down, and I thought that the conversation was over. "You really care about that kid, don't you?"

"And you don't."

"I see the way you look at him, Bobby. You care about him a lot. More than just another hunter's kid. And you have this power over him that he listens to you without giving you any lip. Which is amazing."

"He just knows how to show respect to his elders," I defended. Sure, I cared for Dean, more than I cared to express, but I didn't want anyone else knowing that. What I felt about the kid was my business. But apparently I've been more transparent than I thought I was. I just counted my blessings that no one heard what I had yelled to Dean last night.

Look at me, you gotta snap out now! You're not gonna die. I'm not gonna let you die. You're like a son to me.

I actually told him that he was like a son to me. And he was.

Caleb slapped the book he was reading closed, bringing me out of my short flashback. "Right," he replied. "You just keep thinking that."

"He's a good kid, Caleb."

"You don't have to tell me that," he retorted. "I know how good he is. He's jumped in front of bullets, werewolves, demons, for me. You name it and he's probably saved me from it or will save me from it in the future. There's no end to the size of his heart."

I sighed, knowing how true that statement was. Dean had a heart the size of Jupiter. He cared for everyone that he came into contact with. It was an admirable quality. But then again, there wasn't much about the kid that I didn't admire.

Maybe that's what the demons were talking about when they were talking about his heart.

But why is his heart so important?

There had to be some reason for seven demons to come directly for him. I'd never heard about that before today. But I had to smile at the thought of how pissed off they must be to know that the seven of them couldn't take down a seventeen year old. At least Dean knew how to make life interesting.

"You think that they're coming after him, don't you?" Caleb asked, as if he could read my mind.

"It seems that way, doesn't it?" I replied. "Seven demons just going straight for him."

"And you want to know why."

"Yeah."

"He's a Winchester. That's a special family right there."

"But I hate to see the kid caught up in his father's fight."

"Well, why isn't it his fight too? He loved his mother, didn't he?"

"I'm not saying that he didn't. But name five times that you've seen Dean actually act his age. He's so busy keeping his dad from going on suicide missions and keeping his brother's innocence in tact. And then he has to go and play peacemaker between the two of them when they're about to tear each other's heads off."

"They tear him apart," Caleb whispered. "And they don't even realize it sometimes. I don't know how he does it sometimes."

I knew how he did it all the time. "It's because he remembers that it isn't about him."

"That's—" he stopped talking and shot his head up like a dog who just heard a high-pitched whistle.

"What?"

"Please tell me that you hear that."

I strained to hear what he just did. Then I heard it. The roar of the '86 Sierra Grande coming closer and closer to my house. "Brace yourself," I said and Caleb nodded in reply. It was definitely about to hit the fan.

All right, here is the next chapter. Just to warn you, it might be the last chapter for about two or three weeks. Finals are coming up and I have to get to studying. I might try to sneak one in next week, but I can't really promise anything. I hope that this turned out all right. Thanks for reading. Please review. Lil-Rock