"We have to leave." John's gravelly voice drifted into his consciousness as Dean began to wake. He could hear shuffling, could practically picture his brother tensing up and pursing his face as he prepared to argue with their dad.

"Dean isn't healed yet, he has to stay in the hospital." More shuffling, the squeak of sneakers, that was probably Sam turning and heading back to the bed. Discussion over, right? Wrong.

"I know that Sam but they are getting real close to discovering our fake insurance and we need to be long gone when that happens." The grate of chair on tile, unzipping of a bag…

Sam's voice was closer when he spoke next, right over Dean's head, like he was hovering protectively. "But Dad he…"

"I know Sam, I know, and I wish it was different. Now help me rouse your brother while I go get the discharge papers." The thud of boots on tile, the swing of the door…

"Is there no other way? I mean what if something goes wrong? Dean needs to be in a hospital with doctors and meds and…"

"Sam. This is not up for discussion. Just trust me to do what's best. We will go to Bobby's and look after Dean there; we aren't leaving him on his own." More footsteps, the click of the door closing, then suddenly hands were on his shoulders.

"Dean. Dean. Hey big bro you got to wake up now." Dean blinked open his eyes. Staring blearily into his younger brother's face for a couple of seconds before the world cleared. He glanced to his left and could see his open duffle bag sitting on the chair, clothes peeking out.

"We leaving?" Dean's voice was rough with sleep and he gave a gruff cough to try and clear up his throat.

"Yeah, insurance." Dean nodded and began to push up, wincing at the pull on his injuries. Sam gave him a worried look.

"You feeling okay? You're still pretty black and blue."

"Fine Sammy, just ready to get out of this prison." Dean stifled a groan as he up righted himself fully. He was far from fine, he wanted to lie in the hospital bed for a week pumped full of pain meds, but there was no way he was telling his brother that. "Mind handing me my clothes?"

Sam pivoted and grabbed a pair of worn jeans and a Metallica shirt, handing them over to his brother. Dean stared at him for a second after taking the clothes, giving him an expectant look. "Well turn around Sammy, unless you want a free peep show in which case…"

"Gross! No Dean shut up!" Sam gasped flushing bright pink and quickly turning around and hiding in his hair. Dean chuckled before beginning the painful process of dressing. He bit into his lip as fire burned through his abdomen while he bent over to tug his jeans upward. His ribs groaned as he reached back to untie his hospital gown and let it pool onto the floor. He almost released a cry of agony as he yanked his shirt over his head but he swallowed it down, letting tears well in his eyes.

"You boys ready to go?" John's voice drifted in from the door way. Dean twisted around, grimacing at the quick movement before nodding and heading towards his father. Sam snatched up the duffle bag, zipping it as he walked toward the door, a look of apprehension on his face. "Well then let's head out."

"Dad I still…"

"Sam." John warned, not bothering to turn around. "Dean sit down in the wheelchair so we can get you out of here."

Dean dropped heavily into the chair and leaned back, trying to ease the pressure on his middle. John gave a nervous look at the lack of protest from his eldest before beginning to wheel his towards the exit. "Mr. Winchester!"

John swiveled to see Dean's primary doctor coming his way, "Mr. Winchester I really must advice against Dean leaving the hospital. After all he just awoke from a coma a couple of days ago and his internal injuries are far from healed. It is an unnecessary risk from him to be checked out at this time."

"Listen Doc, I appreciate your concern but we are going to an old buddy of mine, a doctor, and Dean will be in good hands."

"I see." The man replied, crinkling his already slightly wrinkled face and rubbing at his greying temples. John gave a strained smile before turning back to his boys and walking briskly to the exit.

Sam leaned up and whispered, "I didn't know Bobby was doctor."

"Well he's just as good." Sam pursed his lips but refrained from comment. Dean leaned back, a scowl gracing his lips as his wheelchair was put in park by a Volkswagen.

"What the hell is this?"

"It's our ride." John answered back opening the passenger door and attempting to lift Dean from the chair but one look from Dean had him backing away with his hands raised.

"That is not our ride, that is the ride of a middle aged man who is asking 'what have I done with my life'." Dean retorted pushing up from his seated position and flopping into the passenger seat, "Oh god there is an air freshener on the rearview mirror!"

John chuckled, walking around to the driver door and climbing in. "Let's get rolling."