Chapter 14

Dr. Taylor arrived before dawn expecting a difficult day. Pediatrics he loved, but dealing with the police, CPS, and a potentially abusive father wasn't what he signed on for. He peered into Dean Connor's room on his way by. The boy curled toward the father's empty chair, sleeping with his face buried in the other's leather jacket. Whatever happened, Taylor was starting to have doubts that John caused it.

He checked with the night nurse on her way out; there'd been no problems from down the hall, medical or otherwise.

"No, the father only came to the desk once, asked me how Dean was, then went back to standing outside the door where he could see the boy. I changed Dean's dressings around four a.m., gave him some pain medicine. Other than that, not a peep out of either of them."

"Okay, Beth, thanks. Good night."

The doctor nodded at the security guard at the door, raising an eyebrow at John's absence. From his conversation with Beth it sounded like the man had been right outside the room all night. The guard shrugged, gesturing at the coffee shop entrance at the end of the hall. "Can you get his father? CPS and the police have agreed to him being in here when I'm here."

He entered the room quietly, expecting that he could watch the slumbering child a while, try to cement his opinion. Instead the boy was instantly aware of his presence, eyes following the doctor around the room.

"Where's my Dad?" He left, I screwed up with Sam and he left….

Dr. Taylor was considering what to tell his patient when John Winchester slipped into the room, deceptively calm, only his eyes hinting at the storm of barring his path to his child.

"Morning doc. What can you tell me about my son?"

Dr. Taylor slipped a stethoscope from his pocket, listening to Dean's chest before answering. "Wheezing a bit still, but his pulse ox looks good. All in all, I'd say he got lucky, even with an early pneumonia. I think we can get rid of this oxygen mask, try a nasal canula instead. He needs to stay on the nebulizer treatments and IV fluids and I'm going to adjust his antibiotics."

Dean started to raise a hand towards his nose, wincing when the bandages pulled tight.

"Wanting that tube out of your nose?"

The single eyed nod was comically vigorous.

"I can do that. Hold still." Dr. Taylor removed the oxygen mask, putting on a pair of gloves from the box on the wall before grasping the flared red rubber protruding from a nostril. A quick twist and it was gone. He settled the oxygen tubing over his face instead. "Better?"

"Yeah, doc. Thanks."

John redirected the conversation to the idea of pneumonia, needing more information before deciding how soon to get Dean out of here. "So, antibiotics are going to take care of this?"

"Yes, they should. Even without the pneumonia, he would have needed them for the burns. We'll do another chest x-ray this morning and make sure nothing is progressing. Dean's still running a fever, so I would prefer to keep him on IV antibiotics another few days before we try anything oral." It struck Dr. Taylor that if this man didn't actually care about his son he was doing a darn good job of pretending. Still, CPS had made a fairly convincing case.

"I need to speak to your son alone if you don't mind." Dr. Taylor smiled and turned to Dean, trying to gauge his young charge. "So, ready to tell me what happened?"

"I can go over…" John found his sentence interrupted.

"Actually, Mr. Connor, I was asking Dean." The doctor's smile remained as he indicated the door, but the warmth beneath it fled.

John shot a glance at his son, decided he looked too pale to handle a scoop and run just yet. "Certainly, I'll be back in a few minutes."

"So, Dean, I've heard some funny things about that house over the years. What happened to you?"

Dean ground his teeth together, determined to remain quiet as Dr. Taylor unwrapped a mummy's worth of gauze. They'd proceeded mostly in silence since Dean repeated the fire after car wreck theory for the fourth time. The last of the bandage finally hit the floor.

The doctor handed him a mirror, angling it so could see his chest. "Wanna try again?"

Dean stared a long time at the circle and enclosed triangle clearly carved there, four letters within. S-o-r-o…

"Penny for your thoughts, Dean. Someone did this to you, I had no choice but to report it. My gut feeling is that it wasn't your Dad, but that's the first person the police and CPS decided to ask." Taylor sat on the edge of the bed, waiting.

"I can't stop them asking." CPS, great. That's how this whole mess got started….

Stubborn kid."Ok, Dean, I can't make you talk to me. There's a Mr. Keenland coming from CPS, maybe you'll talk to him. Just so you know, CPS already took custody away from your Dad pending their report, you might want to think about that.

John returned half an hour later, immediately noting the pinched look to Dean's face even from the door. He convinced the security guard to accompany him into the room, grudgingly accepting a five minute time limit. These people are on thin ice as soon as Dean can travel…..

"What'd the doctor say?"

"Nothin' much." Dean desperately wanted to ask again about Sam, be sure last night's conversation wasn't some figment of his imagination. As long as they were using the Connor alias, though, it was at least possible CPS didn't know he had a brother. Maybe I don't …

"We'll work this out, son, everything will be fine once we get to Jim's."

Dean struggled to sit up, frustrated when he couldn't. I've got to see Sammy, have to know for sure. "How soon can we leave?"

"Whoa, kiddo. Not now. Get better first." John turned a plan over in his head. "I'll be back later, I've got something to check on. Can you handle everything here?"

"Everything's really ok?"

"Yeah, Dean." A hint of Winchester exasperation crept in his voice, he knew Dean was asking about Sam. He also knew the kid could handle a few rounds of twenty questions with the authorities. They'd practiced it enough.

He looked at his dad, then sank his head deeper into the pillows, running a hand over his bruised face. He's leaving me to deal with the police. "I can handle it here."

"Good. I'll be back tonight."

"Yes sir."

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"Dean Connor?"

"No, Harry Houdini."

"Dean, I'm Mr. Keenland, I'm from…"

"I know who you are." Dean stared at the middle aged man at the foot of his bed, taking in the rumpled grey suit, brushed on the collar by equally grey hair over watery dull eyes. The dingy white shirt was divided by a silver grey tie, idly making Dean wonder if he'd wandered into a black and white movie.

"There's no need for the attitude young man, I'm on your side."

"I doubt that."

"Why? Don't you think anyone would be on your side?" In spite of the question, he didn't appear particularly concerned.

"Oh no you don't. No reading some sort of psycho babble into what I said. I'm fine."

"You're in the hospital, Dean, so you are not fine. I'll get you settled somewhere safe tomorrow and then maybe you'll be more comfortable talking."

"I'm safe here." Or close enough….

"I understand you may not be able to talk about your father with him so close by, but this will all be ok. I already have a family arranged for you once you can leave the hospital, they have a space available for at least six months. They have a son your age, so you'll have a sibling of sorts to talk to for once, and you'll be protected."

Six months? They aren't even considering giving me back. Nope, I'll be 'protected' … right. Least Dad managed to hide Sam from them, though. Unless… no he wouldn't have lied to me about Sammy. Not unless… maybe he needed me to keep it together long enough to get out of here… No, Sammy's ok, has to be….

"You don't understand jack."

Mr. Keenland's mouth puckered, looking vaguely like he'd tried a persimmon. "Why you want to defend the bast… uh, man is beyond me. I tried to be nice Dean, but you are coming with me tomorrow, with or without a police escort. It's for your own good."

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John waited in the woods surrounding the mansion, making sure the fire investigative crew was gone to lunch. He touched as little as possible in the ruins of fire, avoided an urge to detour to the charred remains of the basement. As he'd hoped, the corpse sites had been mapped already. Eleven markers. Knowing he only had moments before the county officials returned, he scouted the area where he'd encountered witches the night before, but saw no additional bodies. He knew he'd killed Derrick, so ten witches here at most. At least three missing. Crap.

The impala purred into downtown, such as it was. John visited both drug stores, limiting how many supplies he bought at each, then plundered the county archives for any old news stories involving the Gallows Hill estate and the Taylor family. Yahtzee. No wonder Doc doesn't like the place. Boman was a small enough town that every family got tied up in its scandals somehow. Huh, little blackmail never hurt anybody, right? How nice of the doc to have a crazy old aunt…. Wonder what he could tell me about Gallows Hill if I had the time…

His next stop was the motel, double checking the room Jim had rented. A quick perusal of the room and register revealed no evidence that John Winchester and his son, or John Connor for that matter, had ever been there. Good.

He returned to the hospital, seeking out Dr. Taylor. The only remaining recon was some straightforward information on Dean.

The sharp tap interrupted a stack of charts Dr Taylor had been meaning to get to for days. Now what? He stood, opening the door to his private office.

"Mr. Connor. Can I help you?"

Two very peculiar hours later rehashing the indiscretions of his youth and relatives and the doctor decided Mr. Connor might be the most persuasive person alive. Just what had he agreed to?

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John stationed himself outside Dean's room once again after dinner, offering no explanation for the day's absence, content to watch his son sleep from the doorway. Dr. Taylor had convinced the police Dean was too upset to speak to them after the conversation with CPS, but John had received no such reprieve. Small towns were stupefyingly predictable. John was a stranger, there was a probable arson, his son was banged to hell, must be his fault. Funny, the only thing they didn't accuse me of was murder, and I technically I did that…

The next day was an endless round of medications and bandages, CPS and the police deciding to bar John from the entire floor of the hospital when it seemed Dean wasn't going to talk to them. Mr. Keenland figured the glimpses of his father through the door were enough to intimidate the child out of telling the truth about the horrors that simply must be occurring in his home. If the boy even had one, looked more like he'd been living as a vagabond.

John figured they had another twenty four hours at most before CPS moved his son, and they had made it clear they wouldn't be telling him where. Not happening.

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Rounds on Dean's third morning found Dr. Taylor arriving at hospital mind numbingly early, rousting John from his office chair. "Thought you might be here." The doc was pretty sure the man had never hurt Dean, but he doubted that safety extended to himself. The knife handle visible at the hunter's waist and gun in his hand confirmed that for the nervous medic. Oh shit. "Let me check on Dean and I'll be back."

John grunted an assent, intentionally glaring at the man to reinforce a silent threat. It was a shame really, in other circumstances, he would have liked the guy. Wasn't the doc's fault that John's life made for CPS issues.

Dr. Taylor entered Dean's room, Beth following behind him. "Let's see if we can get you up." He helped Dean sit, swinging his legs around to the edge of the bed. "Catch your balance before you stand, ok?" The doc shot a glance at the night nurse, silently indicating she should be ready to catch.

Dean lurched to his feet, listing precariously to his left before crumpling into Beth's arms. Taylor lifted him back into the bed, tousling the dark blonde hair at the disgusted huff.

"Actually not a bad first try. Dizzy?" Dr. Taylor raised an eyebrow.

"Nah. Legs just gave out."

"Right, kid. Don't push it too fast." Taylor shrugged at Beth, waiting for the nurse to leave the room, then sat on the edge of the bed. "Dean, can I ask you something?"

Something about the doctor's tone made him wary. "Yeah…."

"CPS is moving you to another hospital this afternoon. You still need IV medicine and fluids for a few days and they aren't happy with security from your father here."

"I ain't goin' and that's not a question."

"Fair enough. I'm not sure how to ask this I guess. Look Dean, not for CPS, not for the police, just so I'll know…Do you trust your Dad?"

Dean altered his face, attempt at attitude gone as he completely dropped his guard, willing Taylor to see that. "Always."

"He didn't hurt you, did he? Someone did though. Let me help you."

"Someone did hurt me doc, but the only person that can help me is my Dad." Dean held the doctor's eyes a long minute.

"Alright, that's all I needed to know."

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"Ok, I didn't give up my beauty sleep for nothing. Is my med student of the day ready? We need to get this done before the sane people get out of bed." Dr. Taylor eyed John as he re-entered his office, trying to bluster over his fear.

An hour later, Taylor was flexing his elbow, wondering how long the bruise would last. He'd taught hundreds of students to start IV lines, and John Connor was a pretty quick study, but he definitely remembered why he made them practice on each other. He couldn't bring himself to allow the man to practice on Dean though, and he couldn't drag anyone else into this. Good an explanation as any for the four IV catheters in his left arm.

"I got it doc. What else?" John shifted impatiently. Making it passed breakfast without getting arrested seemed unlikely if they didn't hurry up.

"You'll need to know how to take out those sutures…"

"Got that one covered, I'm good at stitches."

"Why is that not surprising? No, I don't want to know." Dr. Taylor hastily held up a hand. "Next stop then is burn dressings. None of his are third degree burns except that area on the right shoulder, so mainly you're trying to prevent infection and scarring. I don't even think the chest will scar all that much if you're careful. We'll need to go to Dean's room."

The doc eyed the 9mm that had been on his desk for an hour, untouched since John put it down to try the IV's. "Aren't you worried I'll take that?"

John narrowed his eyes at the man, as if considering the possibility for the first time, then chuckled. "You take my gun? No. No I'm not." He'd made sure the doctor saw it first thing this morning, underlining his intention to get his son out of here, but he knew he wouldn't need to use it. Not with this one. Tucking it in his waistband, he nodded at the door. "Let's go."

The security guard opened his mouth at Dr Taylor's second arrival so early in the day, but he never got a chance to voice his question. He slid bonelessly to the floor, John wrapping an arm around his shoulders to quiet the fall and then dragging him into restroom.

The doctor stifled an audible gulp as he shoved the used sedative syringe in his lab coat, not quite believing what he'd done. What he'd need to do once more before the other man could clear the hospital's back door. Thank goodness versed made people forget.

All of the burns were cleaned and redressed twenty minutes later, Dr. Taylor managing a slight smile at Dean as they finished. There wasn't a trace of fear in the child at his father's touch, maybe this was the right thing after all.

John demonstrated all the physical therapy exercises he'd been shown him earlier, and finally took the IVs out of Taylor's arm before lifting Dean off the bed. "I pass muster?"

"Not bad, Dr. Connor. Remember, IV fluids for three more days, antibiotics for ten, start the exercises tomorrow. You're ready."

Dawn was still hiding from the sky when Dr. Taylor sat in his office, busily charting the mysterious disappearance of Dean Connor as impala tail lights vanished from the hospital driveway.

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A/N - somehow I didn't think John would opt for a knock down drag out fight with Dean that weak, but hey, they're out, one way or the other, right? Hope you enjoyed the chapter, please let me know what you think. There's only an epilogue to go now.... have to tie up those loose ends - like Sam for instance, lol.