Part 5

Eighty-four. Eighty-four. Dean listened to the Impala purr out the time. He watched it disappear around the corner. He leaned in the doorway for another five minutes before he let the noise behind him rile him up. "You should have gone with him."

"Honey… Sam's a big boy. He can take out one little demon without me. Besides. I want to make sure you're settled in and really okay before I leave you here." She wiped down the table before tossing the washrag in the sink. "How many pancakes did you have?"

Dean turned, his back against the doorframe, hood up over his head. "One."

"You made Sam eat his five and your other three?" Ellen threw her head back and laughed. "And after you made him eat your chicken last night. He'll burst before he hits the highway."

"He can handle it. He used to eat all that for lunch when he was 15." Dean shook his head at the memory of filling a teenaged belly. "He had two backpacks for school. One for books and one for a feedbag."

"I'll bet John got a kick out of that." She took a cup of coffee to him and leaned against the other side of the frame. She caught his shake of the head as he took a sip of his coffee. "No?"

"It was costly. A loaf of bread would last the two of us, two days… three if I didn't eat a meal or two… which I did sometimes if Dad was gone on a hunt and money was tight."

"You were… 19? Surely you could get a job… Hell, John hustled the best of my regulars."

"You can only hustle so many times in a bar before the locals catch on and if we stayed a semester or six-weeks for Sam…" Dean scoffed at the memories. "Couple of places ignored my fake ID the first four or five times in. Five or seven hustles… you know? But after the second brawl, they would suddenly discover the fake and ban me. I could have gotten a job… but then I couldn't get away to take care of him."

"You did a fine job of him, Dean. He's his dad all over but he was lucky to have you. You could have hit 18 and decided to be done with it all. Run off. Hunted on your own. Gone to school yourself…"

"Never considered it. When I hit 18, he was 13 and… he was already butting heads with Dad. If I had left… they would have killed each other."

"Usually the mother is the buffer for father and son. Usually she's the buffer for the father and the oldest son." Ellen led him on and took a long sip of her coffee. Dean didn't take the bait. "I used to rail on your dad for treating you kids the way he did. Hell, I hadn't seen him for at least fifteen years when the two of you chuckleheads stumbled into my bar… and I still felt a little mad at him for all he'd done…"

"Dad did what he had to with us."

"I know that. Don't make it right. Dean, if a stranger overheard us telling tales on Sam and Jo… they'd think we were a pair of weathered parents. You're 29 years old… too young to be talking about ornery teenagers and balancing the needs of a child with your own sacrifices. Should have been your dad doing that."

"I did what needed to be done."

"Jesus, Dean." She stepped over his legs to get to the landing outside his front door. The neighborhood was quiet enough… but rundown enough that no one would ask questions about a man with a burned face living above a garage. Hell, the landlord was damn cheap and probably spent the rent money on weed. She could see a patch of grass between two houses that was passing for a local playground. It didn't even have swings; just a slide and a see-saw. "Everybody should get to see their child smile up at them like…" She couldn't stop her smile from coming and going. "Best time of my life… spending time with my Joanna Beth at the park when Bill was minding the bar. She would look at me and I would just… get choked up. Didn't know what I ever did to deserve someone so young looking up at me like I was… Wonder Woman or something."

"Don't worry. I got that."

She spun around so fast, her coffee cup fell down to the driveway with a crack. "What's that?"

"He's nine years old, now. Takes after me and I'll be damned if I know how. I only met him the one time." Dean shrugged and pushed off the frame. "Ten years ago… one night stand." A rush of heat crept up his face. He'd never told a woman what he'd done and all of a sudden it was embarrassing. Shameful. "It's better if… you know… especially now."

"Oh, honey. When did you find out?"

"Months back… it was after my deal." He offered his cup of coffee to finish. She took it and had a deep swallow of the lukewarm brew. "Ben. He doesn't know what I am to him. I feel like shit about it but… you know? He's safer being so far away from me."

Ellen handed him the empty cup. "Go pour me a new cup. I'll go rescue the remains of that one."

Dean nodded and returned to his little kitchen to pour her the last of the coffee. He had just set it down on the card table when it hit him. The lack of air available. Breathe. Breathe! Dammit, Dean! Then Ellen filled his view. She shoved back his hood and cupped his face between her hands. "Dean! Breathe! Breathe!" His knees buckled and she followed him down. Forcing his mouth open, she blew a hard breath in. It caught in his throat. He tried to cough and then suddenly he got the cough out and air shot into his lungs once more. His vision swam for a few minutes. He could feel Ellen's staccato heartbeat under his ear. "That's it, honey. That's it. Breathe. Breathe."

He focused on getting air in and out of his lungs. She had one hand against the back of his head and the other rubbing circles on his back. Finally, he seemed to be calming down. "Do you want to go to the hospital?" He shook his head. "What happened, Dean?"

It took all his strength to push away from her and to get out of her grasp. She rolled her eyes at him. "Get some rest, sweetie. I'm gonna go make some phone calls."

"Don't call Sam back here."

"I won't. You just get some rest. And take that damned hood off when you're in the house. You ain't got nothing that'll scare me off."

--

Dean woke with a jerk. Eighty-two. Eighty-two. His heart pumped out the rhythm. Sweat poured down his face and damned if he couldn't breathe again. It was already too late. His vision swam. "Sam." Was that his voice? It was the last sound he got out. Then there were hands on him, a body against his. Ellen.

"Sweetie, calm down. Calm down." She rubbed his chest and rocked him slightly. "Come on, Dean. Breathe."

"El—" He gasped and coughed so hard he thought he'd puke… if he'd eaten anything to throw up.

"Come on, honey. Don't fight it. Just breathe." It felt like an eternity before he could breathe again. Long slow breaths filled with Ellen's breath and her perfume from that morning. Slowly, he lifted his head, hands braced on her thighs. He relaxed his fingers' hold, vaguely worried about bruising her up. She cupped his face and made him look at her. "You okay, honey?"

When he nodded slowly, her lips crashed against his in a firm, warm kiss. He didn't even think. His hands slid around her back and deepened it into something less than chaste. Kissed her until he thought he'd lose his breath again. Forehead to forehead, they caught their breath together. He gasped in successful breaths. His voice caught when he tried to speak. "El-len."

"Hey, sweetie. No… no, don't. Come on. Get some sleep." She took a deep breath and righted his pillow, urging him back down. He lay down as instructed and when she shifted her weight to move, his hand caught her wrist.

"Please, don't," he whispered.

"Okay. I'll stay." She grabbed her pillow from her makeshift bed and propped it against the wall before settling in because she knew that Dean would be on top of her before he fell asleep. He tried at first to stay on his side of the bed, his back to her. Then he tried sleeping on his back. Then he had gotten pissed and whipped his shirt across the room. She'd had to bite her lip against a laugh. "Dean, just come here."

He eyed her warily before scooting in to rest his head on her shoulder. Ellen ran a rhythm through his hair with one hand and traced soothing circles on a smooth and perfect shoulder blade with the other. He was asleep inside of ten minutes, allowing Ellen the following ten minutes to feel like a mother again… despite the doozy of a kiss the same had given her ten minutes prior to that.

--

Dean was gone when Ellen woke. There was a note about going for juice and eggs. There were nearly burned biscuits on the counter, still warm. Coffee hot in the percolator. She took a chair, her coffee and a biscuit to the landing to feel the sun on her face and to wait for that stubborn young man to return. Biscuit eaten, crumbs brushed away and coffee pot emptied, Dean still hadn't returned. Ellen washed up and cleaned what needed it in the apartment. As the hours stacked up and Dean still hadn't returned, she began to feel uneasy. Lunch, come and gone. Ellen picked up her phone and dialed Dean's cell phone. She got the voice mail after ten rings. "Dean Winchester… I swear to God…" She snapped it shut and started to slam things around.

Then the phone rang in her hand. "Dean? That you, hon?"

"Who am I speaking to?"

Ellen felt the blood drop right out of her face. She took a seat. "I could ask you the same thing. You're not the person who belongs to that phone."

"Ma'am. My name is Carmen. I'm a nurse at—"

"I'm coming." Ellen snapped the phone shut and raced down the stairs to her truck. She didn't remember how she got there but she climbed out of the truck and walked into the emergency room entrance. She wiped the worried tears from her face before stepping to the desk clerk. "I'm Ellen. Dean Winchester was brought in…"

"What relation are you?"

"Family friend… his family's not in town. I'm the only one he's got right now." Ellen cleared her throat against a curse. "You Carmen?"

"No, just a minute… let me call upstairs."

"Fuck you." Ellen stormed out of the waiting area and into the nearest elevator. She followed a bunch of flowers to a nurses' station and asked her question to a frowning nurse. "I'm Ellen. Is Dean Winchester on this floor?"

"Thank God." The nurse let out a breath. "He just woke up." She stepped around the desk and gestured for Ellen to follow her. "The doctor is in with him and he's… he's the Dean we know and tolerate. If you hadn't tried to call him…" She handed Ellen the cracked cell phone. "Where's Sam?"

"He had business to take care of. Out of town." Ellen glanced down at the phone. It was a miracle the damned thing was still working. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Carmen peered into the little window on the door but the doctor was still talking. "I don't know much. They brought him up here when they realized some of his burn-scabs had been broken. Have you been with him?"

"Yeah, I know all about his burns and… everything else. I was waiting on him to come back this morning…" Ellen shoved her hands into her hair. "But what happened to him?"

"Near as we can tell? He was jumped for his clothes. A concerned citizen found him behind a dumpster. Empty grocery bag over his head, no clothes save for his… boxers. Shoes and everything else gone. He… he was lying in the sun."

Ellen shut her eyes. "But he'll be okay?"

"Luckily, he hadn't been there too long. We've had him on IV all day. We want to keep him overnight for observation. He suffered a pretty bad concussion. We've treated the sunburn as best we can but infection is a worry, now."

"Thanks, kid," Ellen told her. "I know the doctor wouldn't have said boo and Dean only talks to me when I put a knee in his gut."

"That doesn't surprise me." Carmen peered into the window once more. "How well do you know them?"

"Well enough not to answer questions like that." Ellen saw Dean's shaking head and sighed. "He's one lucky son of a bitch… not that I ever knew his mama but she'd have to be to put up with that husband of hers. God rest both their souls."

The door opened and Ellen scooted passed the doctor while he gave Carmen instructions. Ellen sat on the edge of the bed. "You okay?"

"I have to… get my strength back." Dean's gaze flicked to the doorway, hardened and then turned to the window. "Get her out of here."

"In a minute, Dean. Tell me what happened." He wouldn't answer her. Ellen ran a finger down a bruise on his right cheek and the split in his lips. Just last night those lips had been whole and tasted sweet, but now they were cut and scabbed over. "Honey…"

"Dean?" Carmen poked her head in and slid some gloves on. "I need to check that gash again."

"Gash?" Ellen echoed and shut her eyes against his face when he sat up. The pain in that expression.

"Do you want something for the pain?" she asked, pulling the gauze back to examine the area.

"NO," Dean gritted out. Ellen took him in her arms. Let him bury his face in her neck.

"It's okay, honey. You do what you have to do. I got him." Ellen whispered over his head. Carmen knew her trade and some of the doctor's it looked like. She was good but it was still a painful thing. Cleaning a cut was usually easy but Dean's back still had some raw burns on it. Ellen did the only thing she knew how to do. Distract. "Let you steal a kiss for that panic attack, sweetie. If it needs stitches, maybe I'll let you cop a feel later."

Dean let out a bark of laughter, making him jerk and making Carmen's hands slip. "Dammit, Ellen, don't do that."

"Don't go thinking you'll get a bed partner out of this, Winchester. I reserve that for men who don't make a habit of chasing their blues with whiskey."

"So, I win." Dean winced when Carmen applied something cold to his back.

"Win what?"

"Sam thinks that you and Dad hooked up." He cleared his throat. "I never thought so."

"Sam… what an idiot." Ellen ruffled Dean's hair, lovingly. "Doesn't he know the rules of seminary?"

"What?"

"John could make holy water… can only do that if you take the vow and I never knew John to break a vow…" She trailed off because he had broken quite a few.

"Never intentionally," Dean promised as he straightened. "Okay… I get maybe you and Dad never hooking up but do you really think he'd been… the whole time?"

"Far as I knew…" Ellen nodded. "John loved your mom that much."

"Yeah." He took a breath. "Okay. Let's get me out of here."

"Dean…" Carmen tossed her trash and held her hands out to him. "No, your head."

"It's fine."

"Dean, mayb--" Ellen tried to cut in but she soon realized she would be putting herself in the middle of something.

"You should stay until your concussion clears and maybe we could do something about the sunburn."

"There's nothing you can do about it that I can't. I got everything I need."

"Why do you have to be so God damned stubborn?" She lowered her voice as she cursed at him. "We're trying to help you. If you haven't noticed, you need it. What the hell were you thinking? I thought you figured it out the other night that you're not strong enough to go walking around by yourself. You need help."

"Fuck you. I asked you to stay away from me. You couldn't even do that. Had to go nosing through my shit and then had the audacity to get mad at me for something I didn't do." He caught the look of surprise on her face. "Yes! I am in possession of a large vocabulary. Hell, I'm sure I speak more languages than you do. So hop on your damn charity case broomstick and get the hell out!"

Ellen stepped aside to let her out. When she turned her gaze back to Dean, he had sunken in on himself. "You get some rest, sweetie. I'll go get the discharge papers. You'll sleep in your own bed tonight, even if I don't get to."

"Thanks, Ellen."

Ellen went to work talking to the desk and filling out forms. She had the stack in her hand for Dean to sign when she caught sight of the brunette nurse again. Approaching slowly, she cleared her throat. "You know, honey… I've been accused of being a bitch. Hell, I've worn the name with pride a time or two… Now, I don't know what your beef with Dean is but someone ought to teach you a lesson in how to treat a man."

"Excuse me?" Carmen's brown eyes went wide.

"Taking a man down because you can is a little bitchy. Kicking a man while he's down… bitchy. The mother bitch of all bitches is a woman who kicks a man in the balls when he's down and it's clear his spirit is already broken." Ellen shifted her weight, wanting to slap the younger woman… just for fun. "You just stay away from him, like he asks. That's all there is to it. He comes in again because he's a stubborn mule, fine. Treat him but don't talk to him."

Carmen stood in stunned silence long after the older woman had left her alone.

TBC