Legalities: Supernatural does not belong to me, although I wish it did. I am simply playing in Kripke's sandbox for a bit. All rights and ownership are the property of Kripke and the CW network. I am not making any money from this; it is for my own personal pleasure.

Idea: This little fiction has a storyline, but it is unabashed hurt!Dean with extremely angsty!Sam and worried!John. It is a mixture of canon based hunts and my own AU storyline imbedded into the chapters. It will somewhat follow Sam and Dean throughout the first, second and possibly into the third season. And while it won't hit every on of the hunts...I will highlight some of my favorites as they fit into this story. Especially when Dean would internalize everything...

Also, this is a very dark little piece of fiction, so please read all warnings at the start of the chapters as they will let you know what to expect.

Synopsis: Dean is injured and must deal with his injury until he's forced to bring Sam up to speed in an attempt to find their father and fix what's been done to Dean. This will involve some hefty AU types of things that will blend with current canon based hunts, they may be changed to accommodate Deans physical limitations.

Warnings: This story will contain everything from intense angst, graphic depictions of past torture and dreams, to current pain. If you don't like this type of thing….don't read this story.

Please keep in mind that I do not have a Beta, so all mistakes are mine and really do try to catch them before a story goes up…but I don't always catch all of them.

This story is NOT SLASH, it is brotherly angst and hurt/comfort only and will approach all situations from that direction.

Please Review: It is the only thing that motivates me to keep to writing a story…THIS CHAPTER IS ALMOST ALL ANGST...IF YOU DON'T LIKE THIS TYPE OF STORY...DON'T READ IT.

Chapter 31

Shift in Focus

Dean sat quietly at the cluttered table in Bobby's kitchen; he was leaning against the table with his elbows supporting his head in his right hand, the left one held close to his body. The cup of black coffee in front of him having long since gone cold and he was still staring at the computer with nothing to show for the last four hours. Sam had gone out into the yard to talk with Bobby…mostly because Dean really needed some time to himself. This setback, as he was calling it, because he refused to believe that he was again stuck in this contraption, was testing his ability to put this life into perspective. Getting back his brother and his legs, then losing his eyesight, and gaining some sort of 'demon-sight' and then finally having his ability to walk callously taken from him, yet again, was threatening to send Dean into a silent depressed 'funk'.

As he leaned against the edge of the table, his elbow resting on the old pitted wood, he sighed and reached up to pinch at the bridge of his nose. Dean's life seemed to be a series of mishaps…as he looked back at things and wondered if any of it had really been worth it? He would always come to save Sam…that was just build into his DNA, but as he thought about their lives he wondered if it really would have mattered if he hadn't made it out of the burning house in Kansas all those years ago…looking at the way their lives had turned out...would his father have gone down the same road if he'd only had Sammy left to him? Dean tended to think not.

His cell phone rang suddenly breaking the isolated silence of the old house and it startled Dean, causing him to shift and then hiss in pain before reaching across the table and trying to grab the little silver phone. He hadn't realized that he was over reaching until his body started to topple forward and he found his hand instantly pushing against the edge of the table to stop from slamming into it with his chin. "God-damn-it!" He swore as his fingers finally closed around the now silent phone.

Dean flipped it open and immediately recognized the Roadhouse's number…which meant Ash. He hit redial and called the mulled rocking genius back. A twinge of pain in his side had him shifting uncomfortably and trying to ignore his aching shoulder as Ash picked up after the third ring.

"Dean. I think I might have some information. But you guys should come here…I need some background info to narrow the search parameters." Ash waited for the young hunter to agree…albeit not patiently. He'd never been known for his patience and that wasn't likely to change any time in the near future.

"Uh…I'm not in that great a condition to travel right now, Ash. Is it really that important for me and Sam to come to the Roadhouse?" It cost Dean a pretty hefty amount of pride to say that out loud. But he really wasn't sure if he was up to sitting in the Impala for two days…his shoulder hurt and he was trying to keep from making Sam feel guilty about that. It wasn't really Sam's fault after all…shit happens.

"Whatever it is…deal with it Dean…cuz this is important." Ash said with little remorse in his voice. He tipped the half empty beer bottle to his lips and waited for the affirmative from the other man…because he knew that Dean would be coming for this information…it was important...and the young hunter was like a dog with a bone.

Dean sighed and scrubbed his good hand down his face as he bit back the sarcastic remark that popped into his head. Ash was doing them a favor, not the other way around…so if he felt that they needed to come to him? Then that's what they would do. Dean hadn't ever actually been to the Roadhouse, he'd just heard his father talking about it over the years. It wasn't really someplace that John would have taken Dean…he wouldn't have wanted the other hunters to know that his oldest son was a 'cripple' as his father had called him.

As his eyes dropped to the once again useless legs attached to his lower body he wondered if maybe his father hadn't been right. "Okay. Ash what's the address?" He grabbed a pen and wrote down the bar's address on a paper plate and then hung up after saying a clipped and awkward goodbye. The thought of actually facing Ash or anyone inside the hunting community was almost more than he wanted to deal with...not in his current condition. But it wasn't like he could just ignore what had happened…and it certainly wasn't in Sammy's best interest to do so...but he wasn't quite ready to deal with it yet.

Dean was researching another topic when his brother pushed through the kitchen door and stopped for a moment and took in the sight of his older brother sitting in the rickety old wheelchair. His eyes dropped in guilt as he debated on what to say to Dean…fortunately his brother took the initiative.

"Hey Sasquatch…stop looking like someone died…we have to go see Ash…so go pack." Dean didn't really look up at his little brother…but he saw the patented 'Sammy-slump' from the corner of his eyes and it made Dean want to sigh. Sam furrowed his eyebrows and the wounded puppy-eyes made an unscheduled appearance. Dean clenched his jaw as he saw the start of a full out Sam pout in the making. As much as he loved Sam…and he did…this was one part of his brother that had always irritated the holy crap out of him. The morose and pouty little faces that his baby brother made when he wasn't happy with the direction of their lives…which was more often than not. "Sam, stop it. He has some information for us…" He glanced down at his legs and blinked around the swelling in his left eye. "This is important...Don't you think?"

Sam huffed and then nodded his agreement. But it didn't make him feel any better. Yeah, they needed information and there was no one inside the hunting community that was better at getting information than Ash...besides maybe Bobby. But Sam also knew that with Dean's current level of injuries, riding in the car for two days wasn't going to be at all comfortable and he just wished that they could take a few days and his brother could heal up a bit first. "Fine, want me to grab your stuff too?" He asked in a tight voice.

Dean rolled his eye…since all his stuff was already on the ground floor. "Nope. I've been packing my own gear for a long time Sam. I got it." Dean hadn't meant for his response to be so cold…but his defenses were at Def-Con One and he was ready to go off at any moment, so the less he said at this point in the conversation the better. So he knew that it was better for both him and Sam if he kept that volatile part of himself locked down. He didn't miss the ghost of pain that flashed across Sam's face before he too locked his emotions behind a wall. He's learning. Dean thought with a tinge of sadness. He wished with all his heart that learning to hide his emotions wasn't something that his brother needed to learn. But one thing had been proven to him over the last several months…there is no out for people like us. Whether or not this is the life that either of them wanted…this is the life they had and all of the 'crap' that goes along with it.

"Okay, fine…ya know what, Dean? Whatever." He said coldly as he stomped out of the room and up the stairs. Dean knew that he wasn't being fair to Sam. His little brother had always been a person that needed to 'talk' out his feelings…and he was feeling extremely guilty about everything that had happened during his possession. And Dean felt badly that his brother was suffering…but damn-it…so was he. He was the one that had lost the use of his legs and he didn't want to talk about that. He wanted to forget that it had ever happened. Or he wished that he didn't remember how good it had felt to walk again. That would have been preferable to knowing what it had felt like to have his hopes fulfilled and then pulled violently away in an instant.

Dean ground his teeth together and then used his good arm to push away from the table. He inhaled deeply as he steeled his body for the coming pain he was about to cause…his left arm pulling carefully away from its protected position near his side, reaching down to force his fingers around the rubber and metal of the tires and he pushed his wheelchair into the living room. It was slow and he was sweating from the pain by the time he reached the couch, groaning when he realized that he'd bitten a hole in his lip, the acrid tang of blood flooding his mouth. "Fuck!" He said loudly as he looked around for something to spit into. This was just not his week...everything was definitely not 'coming up aces' for him.

"Dean?" Sam's voice penetrated his haze of pain and he lifted glazed green eyes to meet his brother's open, worried expression. Seeing the guilt and the concern so clearly displayed on Sam's face made Dean feel like a piece of shit. He knew how Sam was…he knew how to help his brother…so in true Dean Winchester style he shoved his own emotional and physical pain down into the vast gaping hole inside his own mind and tossed his brother the lifeline he was desperately seeking.

"Sam…I think I might need some help after all." His voice was quiet and rough as he ignored the pain and looked at his brother in expectation. A smile pulled at the corner of Sam's mouth as he nodded and was instantly at Dean's side trying to help him pull together his meager belongings. They had kept Dean's other wheelchair out in the old salvage garage in town…so Bobby had gone to get it from the old shop. They would need to wait until the older hunter returned, so that Dean would be able to get around more easily. Although, with the pain in his shoulder he wasn't likely to be comfortable for a while.

"Okay. I can do that." His brother's voice sounded a million times lighter and he no longer looked as though Dean had killed off his favorite dog. Not that we ever actually owned a dog growing up…the thought occurred to him as kind of a sad representation of their lives…what little boy had never owned a dog? The answer…a Winchester boy. Sam made himself useful scurrying around the house grabbing things to try and make the drive a little more comfortable to Dean and also for himself. He wasn't exactly feeling all that up to scratch either…so he wanted to be comfortable.

Dean watched with mixed emotions as he was reminded once again how dependent Sam was on his moods and Dean's ability to compartmentalize his own pain. If Dean was able to control how he 'portrayed' he felt about something…then Sam could be manipulated into a specific response. He hated that he knew that…that he knew how to manipulate his little brother so well. Again Dean threw a new wall up against his own guilty conscience. While he wasn't proud that he knew how to do this, it would serve them well in the future if Dean had to made a decision that set Sam free…he didn't know what that would entail at this point…but with their current track record, it might be the only way to save his brother. "Sammy?" He asked as Sam shoved his jeans into the duffel bag.

Sam's head snapped up to look him in the eye, his long brown hair falling into his eyes and causing him to flip his head to move them, without thinking specifically about. The motion made Dean smile, he'd hated it when Sam had done that when they were kids, he'd always just wanted Sam to cut his hair…but now it was so much a part of his little brother that he could only smile about the movement. "Yeah, Dean?"

"In the upstairs bedroom…I have some clothes that I left here the last time I visited Bobby…he kept them there for me…can you get them?" It wasn't anything more than some sweatpants and a couple of sweatshirts in addition to a couple pairs of Levi's. But being that he'd had several pairs of pants destroyed and he wasn't going to go shopping for more...this seemed like the best solution to a bad situation. Plus, it would give Sam something to continue doing while they waited for Bobby to get back...and then they were leaving.

"I'll go get them right now." Sam said quickly and bounded up the stairs…Dean looked down at his own legs where they had listed against the side of the chair and pulled in a low breath. He glanced over at the couch where he'd been sleeping for the past couple of days…or where he was supposed to be sleeping. The pain in his shoulder and his head hadn't been that conducive for sleeping well. He'd looked at the wound that morning and there had been some red puffiness that he knew he needed to mention to either Sam or Bobby…but he just couldn't bring himself to admit another weakness. So he'd done the best he could to care for the wound and then told Sam that Bobby had taken care of it and told Bobby that Sam had looked to his wounds. Dean knew that with everything that was going on, neither man would seek out the other to specifically ask about who doctored up Dean's injuries…he was counting on that.

TBC…

Author's Note: So they are headed to the Roadhouse, so there will be interactions with Jo and Ellen along with Ash in the next chapter. There are also Dean's injuries to content with and the fact that he is lying to Sam? That never ends well for the brothers. The information Ash is closing in on is essential to Dean figuring out the whole Demon debacle…and ultimately trying to save Sam. Thanks for reading, sorry it's been so long since I updated…I was trying to figure where I wanted to go…and WHAM it came to me today. So here ya go. Oh, and it might not be winding down as this is a whole new storyline within the original that may take a bit to work through.

Please Review: So that I know you guys are still interested and reading this story.