"I'm coming home,

I'm coming home,

Tell the world I'm coming home!

Let the rain wash away all the pain of yesterday

And I know my my kingdom awaits,

And they've forgiven my mistakes;

I'm coming home,

I'm coming home,

Tell the world I'm coming home!"

When he awoke, he couldn't entirely see. The whole room seemed to be white, but it was starting to darken. He blinked his hazel eyes repeatedly, giving a little gruff groan as he pushed himself up on his elbows and looked around. He felt something tug in his arm and he furrowed his eyebrows together and looked down at his arm to see an IV tapped into his arm.

He started to scream.

He jolted completely upright and ripped the intrusive thing out of his arm, ignoring the burning pain. Instantly, there were nurses running into his room.

"You need to calm down, love. You're in a hospital." One of them tried to soothe him.

He started breathing heavily again, trying to get out of the bed, but one nurse pushed him back down and held him there.

"You have to be careful of his wounds!" One nurse hissed, smacking the other's hands away and pushing her way to stand in front of him, placing her hands gently on his shoulders. She stared right into his eyes, and he swore that he had seen those eyes in his dreams before. The good dreams.

"Hey, hey. Calm down, sweetheart." She said soothingly.

"We're not gonna hurt you. You're okay. You're safe." She promised him, and he gulped down another one of his screams, quickly nodding his head.

"We're not gonna hurt you." She repeated, and slowly relinquished her hold. "We don't have to put the IV back in, but we do need you to lay back down on your back, honey." She said softly, and he slowly nodded again, pushing himself back onto the cot and he flopped down unceremoniously.

"That's good." She praised him, rubbing his arm. He looked at her in confusion, and she smiled gently at him.

"My name is Jessica." She greeted him. "Do you know why you're here?"

He shook his head, 'no'.

"Alright, love. Do you remember your name?"

He uncertainly nodded his head.

"Can you tell me your name?"

The young man paused, before he opened his mouth. "Sam…" He whispered, and she nodded.

"That's right. Your name is Sam Winchester. Do you remember anything from last night, Sam Winchester?" She continued to question him, the woman taking his large hand into her two extremely soft ones. He looked down to their hands and then back up at her.

"I saw... my father." He answered her, and Jessica nodded.

"Yes, you did. And he called nine-one-one, and we had to rush you in here. You were having a panic attack, Sam." She explained. "A very, very bad panic attack. You passed out before our EMTs had gotten there. But it's alright, because you're okay now. You're safe, and we have some people that would like to talk to you whenever you feel well-rested. Alright?"

Sam nodded his head.

"Is it my dad an' my brother?" He asked her, and Jess replied with a nod.

"Along with one of your dad's friends. John told me that he's like an uncle to Dean, and to you." She said to him, and Sam slowly nodded again.

"Okay. I'm ready..."

She rose one of her blonde eyebrows. "Are you sure? You can sleep some more if you want to, Sam."

He shook his head.

"Uh uh… Need to see them…" He maintained weakly, and Jess patted his hand.

"Okay. But you don't get out of this cot. You understand me?" She asked him, and he nodded like a complacent child.

She flashed a dazzling smile.

"Good." She praised him again, and let go of his hand, heading out of the room. He laid back into the hospital bed, looking around his room. It was bare, but not as bare as the hospital room that he was used to. Goosebumps rose all over his arms and legs and he got a constricting feeling in his chest again, and he wanted to scream once more. Tears built up in his eyes, but he blinked those away as the man from last night, his father, and two other men came into his hospital room. Sam sat up quickly.

"Hey." Sam said, and John's eyes lit up. He headed over to his boy and smiled.

"How you feelin', kiddo?" He asked softly, and Sam looked kind of surprised.

"Um… Real tired." He answered honestly, and John nodded his head. "Yeah, I get that."

Another young man stepped forward. He was tall, just about as tall as their father. He had lighter brown hair than him and his father, freckles all over his lean face. He had greener eyes than them, as well. He eyed Sam carefully before inching forward some more.

"You remember me..?" He whispered, and Sam actually produced a smile.

"Dean." He said softly, and Dean perked up instantly. He smiled right back at his little brother.

"That's right." He said, nodding his head.

"I'm your big brother." Dean said, very proud of that.

"Uh huh." Sam agreed with him, and then his gaze fell to the previously silent man in the dirty old hat that had some words that were faded across the front. He watched him for a few moments, until the man took a closer step.

"Hey." He greeted, voice deep and midwestern. "I'm Bobby. Bobby Singer." He introduced himself, and Sam nodded.

"You're… The one that Jess said's like an uncle." He reiterated Jess' explanation, and Bobby bobbed his head.

"Tha's right." He agreed, and Sam smiled a bit, before he turned his body around to try and get to his feet. John stopped him however, placing a big bear paw on the kid's shoulder. Sam looked up, startled. John gaze his shoulder a light squeeze.

"Gotta lay down, Sam." He said, and Sam's stomach flipped.

"Sam." He said quickly. "Jus'... Just Sam…" He squirmed a bit, before drawing his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs, and John looked alarmed all over again because that was the position that Sam was in before he had his last panic/anxiety attack. And he didn't want to have to go through that again.

"Hey, bud. It's alright. I'll just call ya Sam if ya want." He said, moving his hand to rub between his shoulder blades.

"'m sorry. Jus' don' like it." Sam mumbled into his knees, dropping his face between them, and John gave his son and friend a worried look. Dean took a seat right next to Sam and he wrapped an arm around him.

Sam tensed up immediately and picked up his head, giving Dean a surprised, incredulous look.

"What are y'doin'?" He asked him, sounding earnestly confused.

Dean blinked.

"'m huggin' you." He answered, and Sam continued to stare at him, but at least didn't scream, hyperventilate, or rip away from his elder brother. Instead, he slowly shifted closer to him. Leaning into his elder brother's touch, the young man completely starved of physical attention.

"Huggin'?" He repeated, and Dean nodded. "Uh huh."

"Why?" Sam asked, and Dean tilted his head to the side a bit.

"Uh… 'Cause it's… It's comforting?" He answered, though it sounded more like a question than an actual response.

Sam still found it confusing. But, he actually found that he did like it. John stood up and Sam looked to him before looking at Dean again, letting go of his legs to climb right over to Dean and deposit himself into his big brother's lap. It was Dean's turn to look incredulous. Sam dropped his head onto Dean's shoulder and closed his tired eyes.

After the initial shock of having a giant, yet surprisingly light-weight, twenty-two year old climb up into his lap like a child, he slowly wrapped his arms around him, pulling him close. Just holding him. And Dean began to wish that he had been able to do this more often. He remembered the last time that he held his little brother, so, so many years ago. The night his mother died, and his brother had been stolen from him.

Tears built up in Dean's eyes, and he sniffled. John got a little misty eyed as well, but he cleared his throat and blinked them away.

"That's real cute, Dean." John said, smiling a bit in a half-hearted teasing way, and Dean looked up, looking younger than he had in years.

"Uh huh. Jealous." He replied to him, forcing a toothy grin, and John meekly nodded.

"Kinda am." He admitted, since his son was the one that had been stolen away.

And with that, Sam had been deprived of the hugs, kisses, cuddles, and snuggles that he rightfully deserved. It had killed John when he realized that Sam had no idea what a hug really was. And that he needed attention and love and care, and God dammit would he be the best father he could be to his recently returned son. That he would change his ways, the ways he adapted by being a single father to his eldest son, Dean. He would be nicer. He would be more loving and accepting and understanding.

Dean shifted himself, carrying Sam as he sat on the cot, letting his huge body curl up in his lap as he held him. He pressed his back against the back of the bed, wanting to at least get comfy because he could tell by Sam's slowed breathing that he had fallen asleep in this position. And he wasn't about to wake his little brother up. No way in Hell. He was going to stay here, and be the first face that his little brother saw when he yawned and opened up his eyes.

John took a seat in the chair closest to the bed, and Bobby sat down on the sofa by the window.

"Might as well all take a nap while he's out." Bobby suggested, leaning back on the couch, pulling his hat over his eyes and crossing his arms across his chest, closing his eyes and he tried to doze off.

John liked that suggestion. He hadn't slept all night and was pretty damn tired. As was Bobby, since he had driven all the way from South friggin' Dakota to get here by the time that Sam had woken up this afternoon. Dean had been up all night, too. John had called him from his little family with a nice girl named Lisa Braeden that he insisted Dean seriously propose to her sooner or later.

They had a kid together. His name was Ben. John insisted that Dean propose for the kid at the least, but Dean always had commitment issues. John sometimes felt like Dean only stayed with Lisa because of Ben. But from what he knew of Dean, he knew that Dean really did love that girl. She was the only one who could keep his eldest in line better than he ever could.

Dean dropped his head on top of Sam's.

"Like that idea." He agreed with Bobby, closing his green eyes.

"Mhm." John grunted, leaning back in his seat.

The eldest man in the room closed his eyes as well and started to doze off as well.

For the moment, all was well in the world of John Winchester. His baby boy was back. Dean was content for the first time in twenty years. Bobby was here. It was all calm. It was relaxing.

Unfortunately, as they say… It's always calm before the storm.

He just didn't know what was brewing as he began to fall asleep in the chair of the hospital room.

None of them did.