The Way Home
Chapter 11
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1

Six hours had passed since John Winchester had been rushed into surgery, nearly seven since the man had stumbled his way back to Bobby's salvage yard, collapsing from unknown injuries and a raging illness. During that time Pastor Jim Murphy had alternated between sitting and pacing the small waiting area outside the operating room. It had been nearly twenty-four hours since his life and those of everyone close to him were thrown into disarray.

In that time Caleb Reaves, the twenty-two year old son of Mackland Ames, who felt as much Jim's son as he was Mackland's, had come stumbling down his driveway in New Haven, collapsing from injuries sustained in an automobile wreck that was caused by a vision, a vision involving John Winchester, the Knight of the Brotherhood. They all knew what Caleb's vision could mean and time had been of the essence in trying to find the presumably injured man. It had torn at Jim's heart to leave Caleb's side, not knowing exactly what was happening with the young man, his condition remaining unstable.

Now, the Pastor looked across the quiet waiting room, taking in the form of Dean Winchester, John's eldest son and Caleb's best friend. The teen had finally succumbed to the sleep his body and mind had been craving, his head resting on his still pulled up legs. The boy had witnessed his best friends collapse, literally catching the injured man before he hit the ground, hearing the broken pleas that John was in danger. The teen had put aside his fear of flying, insisting that he go with Jim to South Dakota to help locate his father. Then the younger boy again had to witness someone he loved collapse, as an injured and sick John made his way down the driveway leading to Bobby's. On top of all that, while in the ambulance on the way to the hospital, Dean witnessed his father have a seizure, brought on by the raging fever that was consuming his body.

Over the last six hours Jim had watched as the fifteen-year old continued to slowly withdraw into himself, not speaking, barely eating and that only after Bobby had threatened to force feed him. It was killing the older man that he didn't know how to stop the boy's withdrawal, but Mackland had called it a self-defense mechanism, it was Dean's way of protecting himself from the emotional devastating situation that the young boy found himself, but that didn't make Jim feel any better.

Jim turned when he heard the doors that lead to the operating theater open, a tired looking man in scrubs was walking toward them. The Pastor quickly made his way toward Bobby, who had his head back, softly snoring, "Robert," Jim shook the man's shoulder.

The Mechanic straightened quickly, adjusting his hat, "Jim?"

"Doctor's here." The older man then made his way to Dean, gently taking a hold of the boy's arm, giving it an easy shake, "Dean?" The boy immediately jumped, coming more alert than any person had a right to be after just waking up, his scared, moss-green eyes met Jim's, "The doctor's here Son."

The teen pushed himself up, standing as he ran his hand over his exhausted face, turning his attention to the man standing quietly at the entrance of the room, "How's…" Dean cleared his throat, "How's my Dad?"

"Please have a seat." The doctor motioned toward the chairs, himself needing to sit his exhausted body down, "My name is Dr. Whitman, first of all your father did make it through surgery." The doctor watched relief pass over the young boys face, as it did over the two older men's faces as well.

The Pastor reached over, placing a hand on Dean's shoulder as the weight of the world seemed to finally ease on the teen's body. "When can I see him?" Dean asked.

"It will be a couple more hours before we move him into the ICU," Dr. Whitman leaned forward, glancing toward Jim and Bobby, before returning his gaze to Dean. "Son, your dad's not out of the woods yet, so to speak. We were able to reset his ribs and fix the hole in his lung; he will be on a ventilator for at least twenty-four hours to give his lung time to heal. His arm was set and he will probably be in a cast for six to eight weeks. However, we do have two areas of major concern; the first being the pneumonia your father has, his temperature is still hovering between 103 and 104, he's on a broad spectrum antibiotic; we also have a drain in to help remove the fluid that is accumulating inside his lungs. Our other area of concern is your father's head injury, he has a severe concussion and we are monitoring him closely for any signs of intracranial pressure, do you understand what that is?"

Dean paled some at all that was wrong with John, "Yeah, that's if his brain swells." Having a world famous Neurosurgeon as a favorite Uncle had taught the teen a few things, and one of them being the swelling of your brain was bad news.

Dr. Whitman leaned back, looking at Jim and Bobby as he nodded, "Yes that's it exactly, so far we don't see any indication, but with a concussion this severe, we want to keep a close eye on things. Your father is currently in a drug induced coma, to give his body time to heal, once we pass the twenty-four hour window and if Mr. Winchester doesn't show any signs of complication, we will start to wean him off the sedative."

"Do you know when Jonathon may wake up?" Jim spoke this time, his hand on Dean's shoulder.

"As I said, we hope to decrease the sedation within twenty-four hours, after that it will be up to Mr. Winchester." The doctor stood, Dean, Jim and Bobby following, "Our ICU is on the next floor up; Mr. Winchester should be up there in about two hours, once he's situated they will allow you to visit him for a few minutes every hour." The tired man stepped toward Dean, extending his hand, "Your father's a fighter young man."

Dean straightened as he shook the doctor's hand, Jim and Bobby following suit, "The best I know." Dean answered as Dr. Whitman patted him on the shoulder, then headed back to check on his patient.

Dean stood, watching the man leave, then ran his hands over his face and through his hair. Pastor Jim took a chance and stepped up, pulling the teen into a hug. To Jim's surprise, the boy latched on to him with the same strength, "Jonathon has too much to live for to stop fighting now my boy." The hug lasted a moment longer before Dean pulled back, wiping the back of his hand over his face. "The doctor said it would be a couple of hours before you could see him," Jim looked between Dean and Bobby, "Perhaps we should find ourselves something a little better to eat than hospital food, and I'll give Mackland a call to check on Caleb and let him know about Jonathon."

Dean wrapped his arms tightly around himself, the scared, almost hallow look never really leaving his tired, green eyes. Clearing his throat the teen spoke quietly, "I need to talk to Sammy."

"Of course." Jim answered as they headed down the hallway, toward the elevators.

Oxoxoxoxoxox

It had been twenty-four hours since Caleb collapsed in Jim's driveway; it had been the longest twenty-four hours in Mac's life. Mackland Ames was a man who liked to know the answer's to anything that may be puzzling him and he would search and search until he found them, but this, this terrified him. His son was injured, though in the grand scheme of things they were minor injures, but the young man had remained unconscious.

The first hours passed with his son's vitals and brain scans showing the body's reactions as if he had been fully awake and moving around, almost as if he was training with John in the wood around Jim's. Then suddenly, a few hours ago, his vitals leveled off indicative of a person who was unconscious, his brain activity had slowed as well. However there was still no medical reason for his continued state.

Mac found himself praying for his son's golden eyes to open, that the younger man would joke with him about having better things to do than watch him sleep. But right now, that was all Mac had time to do, until his son woke up and was okay, the Scholar wouldn't leave the hospital. The Doctor had taken Sammy down to the cafeteria for something to eat and despite the way the younger boy had been acting since John had dropped him at Jim's, the youngest Winchester had taken upon himself to make sure Mac had anything he needed. The boy had done several coffee runs, tried to distract the worried Doctor with stories about the last school they had just left, the young boy rambled on about what he had learned in Science class, the cool experiments the teacher let them do. Though Mac appreciated the child's attempt to distract him, he was secretly happy when the younger boy finally dozed off in the chair on the other side of Caleb's bed.

Standing up, Mac made his way toward the window in the room, the sun had just set, the sky still showing a hint of the reds and oranges that seemed to show up in the autumn sunsets. Turning he ran his hands over his face, slowly making his way back to his son's side. As he stood next to the bed, he took a minute to look at the young man. He hadn't seen him in a couple weeks, Caleb was working on getting his place that his grandfather, Cullen, had bought him after graduating Auburn, set up. When Mac had asked him what he was planning on doing since he was finished with school, the older man worried his son would throw himself into hunting full-time like John, Caleb had been secretive, just saying he was working on something and if it worked out then Mac would find out. The Scholar had a feeling that was why Caleb had requested that his 'family' meet at Jim farm for the weekend, perhaps he was planning on letting them all know what he had been up to the last few months.

Looking at his son's lax face, the father couldn't help but to reach out and brush a stray hair from the boy's forehead. Caleb was still in a stage of keeping his hair longer than Mac liked, but it just added to his youthful appearance. However now, Caleb seemed so much younger, almost reminding him of the twelve-year old the Doctor had found in the hospital just ten short years ago. That had been the only time, up until now, that Caleb had ever looked helpless. Even when injured on a hunt the young man had an air of control about him, giving the impression that he was in control, even when he wasn't. Now, now his son looked vulnerable and that scared Mac.

The father reached over the railing, taking his son's hand knowing full well that if Caleb was awake the boy would call him on the 'chick-flick' moment that Caleb and Dean had started to refer to emotional situations as being. "I don't know what's happening with you Son and that's scaring me." Mac whispered, as he placed his free hand on his son's head. "I've tried so hard to protect you, to help you learn and deal with your abilities as they grew stronger, but this time I don't know what's going on or how to help you. I have to have faith that you will find your way back to me and together we will figure out what happened." The Doctor could feel the emotion building in his chest, that horrific feeling a parent has when something is wrong with their child and there isn't a damn thing that the parent could do, no matter how much they wanted to. "I love you Son, just work your way back to me okay?" Mac leaned over, kissing his son's forehead as he heard the hospital room door open.

The Nurse's quiet voice spoke, "Dr. Ames, you have a phone call."