Supernatural does not belong to me, although I wish it did. I am simply playing in Kirpke'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.

Synopsis:Set at the start of Season One, Dean had been in a wheelchair since his father disappeared more than a year ago and he finally has to tell Sam… There'd been an accident that night and Dean had paid a very high price….one he still doesn't understand. The story will have some hunts from season one and possibly into season two…the brothers will continue their search for their father…there will be alterations to the hunts to accommodate Dean's new situation. I have every intention of returning Dean to good health before this ends…but getting there is going to be bumpy.

WARNING:These chapters can contain a lot of angst and can get a little graphic with the pain and blood...consider yourself warned. Don't like...Don't Read...

Please keep in mind that I do not have a Beta, so all grammatical errors are my own.Not Slash. Brotherly love and Angst only…

Please Review: So I know there's still interest in this little story.

Previous Chapter:

Dean knocked…no banged on the door. He waited, but not patiently for an answer. The porch light flipped on and he stepped back a few steps and watched as the door was pulled open. He gasped when he was caught off guard by the bright blue eyes of his father. John stared at his eldest son and sighed when he assumed that Dean was in trouble again.

"What is now?" He asked tiredly.

Dean's eyebrows furrowed and his mouth dropped open in a silent 'O'. He could feel the tremors racing through his body as it reacted to adrenaline now pumping through his veins.

"Dean." John said again. He reached out, ready to shake his son a little to get his attention. But the violent way that Dean stumbled back from him had him raising his own eyebrows in confusion. His eldest had never had that kind of reaction to anyone in his family before. "You okay, son?"

A gulp was his only answer as Dean continued to stare at him like he was a viper waiting to strike. The terrified and defiant look plastered on his son's face had John stepping back and gesturing him inside. "Why don't you come in, Dean?"

"Where's mom?" Dean stammered.

John's face took on a pained expression and he sighed before stepping further into the house. "Come inside, Dean." This time it wasn't really a question, it was an order. And one thing about Dean, he'd never been able to refuse his father's orders.

XXXX

Chapter 40

Two Realities

Dean leaned away from his father as he stepped into the house. The memories of what John had done to him over the years too fresh in his mind for him to ignore. The slight hunch to his shoulders was unintentional as he tried to make his 6'1 frame smaller and less of a target. He didn't see his father's eyebrows narrow in confusion as he gently closed the door behind his eldest son.

Green eyes swept over the home as he took in the decor and the bright 'vibe' that seemed to run throughout the home. It was strange to think that somehow he'd wound up in a world where he and Sammy had grown up in a home, not in dirty motels. And he wasn't even going to think about the fact that he was walking instead of rolling around in a wheelchair. Was it really such a stretch that their mother might be alive?

"Dean…what's going on with you?" John asked as he sat down on the couch.

"Where's mom?" The words were soft and pained and John found that he didn't understand.

"What do you mean?" He looked at his boy and then sighed. Mary's death had been difficult for all of them, but Dean had taken it so hard. He and Mary had always had a special relationship, one that John had never understood, but was proud of. For all of Dean's failings…he'd been the perfect oldest son. The boy had always tried to look out for Sam, although he definitely got lost along the way. The time he stole Sam's prom date hadn't gone over well. His youngest son had refused to speak to his brother for almost a month. Sam could hold a grudge like no one he'd ever met. But John could chalk up Dean's mistake to innocent enthusiasm and a strong libido. "Son…cancer isn't…"

Dean's whole world narrowed and crashed at the word 'cancer'. He had lost his mother not to a demon…but to a tiny mutated cell that had destroyed her from the inside out and he wasn't sure which was worse. The pain of her loss crashed over him and he realized that he'd been hanging hopes of seeing her again as he'd sped over here. He sank onto the couch and then leaned forward planting his elbows on his knees as he rested his head in his hands. "Cancer…" He whispered.

The broken quality to his son's voice catching John's attention as he licked his lips and looked at the floor. He leaned forward and started to place a comforting hand on Dean's shoulder. The instantaneous and violent reaction from his eldest son had him scrambling to his feet and staring at Dean like he didn't even recognize him. "What the hell was that, Dean?" He asked, eyes still wide with confusion and tinged in hurt.

Dean blinked a few times as he struggled to control the rapid breathing that was pulsing through his body. "Sorry…sorry." He mumbled. Nothing about his body position reflected a relaxed demeanor. He felt like he was pulled tighter than a catgut string on a violin ready to snap.

"Dean…son…what's going on with you?" John said quietly as he sat down carefully in the chair across from his boy. He was smart enough to realize that whatever was going on in Dean's life, it wasn't something that he wanted to talk about. He'd seen too many men in combat that had this type of 'reactive response' to stressful situations not to recognize it.

Dean reached up and scrubbed his fingers through his blonde hair. He shook his head and leaned away from his father, his jaw clenching and unclenching in an attempt to deal with the changes in this reality…or where ever the hell he was. The phone rang at that moment and John sighed as he reached over to answer it, his eyes flashing over the family photo. The four members of the Winchester family all dressed up for the picture. It had been the only thing that Mary had wanted for Christmas that year…a picture with all of them.

"Hello?" His usually strong voice sounded resigned and sad, causing Dean's gaze to graze over him before returning to the floor.

"Dad? Is Dean there with you?" Sam asked. Carmen had called him when his brother had taken off in the middle of the night. Sam had wanted to tell his brother's girlfriend that in all likelihood, Dean was headed out to some bar to drink himself into a stupor, but he hadn't.

"Sam…" Dean's head snapped up at the sound of his brother's name. John continued as he shook his head and turned to walk away. "Yeah, he's here. Carmen?"

"Yup, she's worried. I don't know, dad. When is Dean gonna grow up and start acting like an adult. He keeps making these bullshit choices…why can't he just be normal?" Sam complained. He was standing in the airport, watching Jess as she bought them each a cup of coffee as they waited for the plane. He hated going home for this every year. Going home so that he could remember how horrible it had been to lose his mother. Going home to see the new mess that his brother had made of his own life. Hell, the guy had met the perfect woman, Carmen loved Dean and she was supportive but Dean was gonna drag her down if he didn't knock this crap off.

"I'm not sure what's going on, Sam. You gonna make it this year?" The slight sound of hope in John Winchester's voice sounded so foreign to Dean that he ground his teeth together. What the hell is this place?

"I make it every year dad. I'm not Dean. I don't skip out on my obligations." Sam didn't need to elaborate. His father got it and he knew it.

"That's a bit harsh, Sammy."

"It's Sam….and no it isn't. I'll see you in the morning." He hung up the phone just as Jessica walked over and handed him large steaming cup of coffee.

"You okay?" She asked.

"Yeah…just family crap." He mumbled as he sipped at the black liquid.

XXXX

Sam was scared. He wasn't afraid to admit it. Dean had taken off to check out some warehouse…alone. And now he wasn't answering his phone and Sam only had a vague idea of where he'd been last. The Honda Civic whined as he pushed the engine even harder. The rain was beating down on the cracked windshield of his stolen car, making it difficult to see the road. Oh how the mighty have fallen. He thought with a sigh. He'd done things when he'd been young that could have made it difficult for him to get into Law school, but he'd put that life behind him when he'd been accepted to Stanford. And then Dean had come back into his life…not that he was complaining about that. But with his reappearance came all of the old habits that Sam had thought were behind him. He loved his brother and he'd missed the snarky attitude and even the loud rock music. But as he stared down a road that diverged in two different directions, he knew that he would do anything to save his brother…whether or not Dean wanted to be saved was irrelevant. He would follow his brother down this 'rabbit hole' and see where it led...because really? What else could he do?

He spotted what looked like a large abandoned warehouse and slowed the vehicle, it's engine sagging in relief. He ground his teeth together in disgust as he looked at the dilapidated building. There was a service ramp at the end of the parking lot. That's how Dean would have gotten in. He thought as he climbed out of the tiny car. His legs were complaining at being stuffed into the small space of the Civic in a painful cacophony of pins and needles. Sam stretched and felt his back pop as the rain poured down his face, soaking his jacket and running down his back. A slight shiver worked its way through his torso as he pulled his coat a little tighter and started toward the building. "You better be in there, Dean." He grumbled.

XXXX

Dean was sitting on the porch when the rental car pulled up. He watched as a small grey sedan that held his baby brother rolled to a stop and the engine died as the driver crawled out of the vehicle. Sam looked good. He was wearing a dark suit with a bright yellow tie and a look that said 'I'm happy'.

"Dean." Sam said. His voice was void of any emotion as he stared at his big brother.

"Sammy." Dean answered. He'd nearly flinched at the formal way that his brother was addressing him. Something wasn't right. Their relationship, it wasn't right.

"Dad here?" Sam asked as he turned and pulled a small travel bag from the backseat. He pushed the door shut and inhaled the thick woodsy scent of Kansas. He'd missed that while he'd been in California. He definitely didn't want to move back here…but it was home and he appreciated that. His eyes scanned back to his brother when Dean didn't immediately answer. He pulled his eyebrows together in confusion when he finally saw his brother. Dean was slumped on the steps a bottle of beer in one hand and his head resting in the other. His usually loud and obnoxious demeanor was completely absent. "Dean? Is dad here?" He repeated when Dean still didn't answer.

Dean's head came up slowly and he nodded before taking a swig of his beer and returning his eyes to the pavement. "Inside." He said quietly.

"You okay?" Sam knew that he was potentially opening a can of worms here. Who the hell knew what his brother had gotten himself into? Last time it'd been gambling debts and he'd stolen Sam's credit card to pay off the guy. The time before that, Dean had managed to hook up with a married woman and her husband was less than understanding about the mistake…Dean had gotten his ass handed to him…Sam had driven him to the hospital.

"Fine." Dean said after a moment.

"Alright, I'm gonna go talk to dad and then we can head over to the cemetery. I gotta get back to California tomorrow." He shuffled past the silent form of his older brother without another word.

Dean stayed seated on the concrete steps, the two warring versions of his life playing havoc with his brain. On hand he had his legs back, a beautiful girlfriend, and his father didn't seem to think that he was a complete waste of space. On the other hand, his brother hated him and his mother was still dead. There were a lot of things that Dean could handle…but Sammy hating him? That wasn't one of them. Somehow if the Gjinn was supposed to grant wishes, it'd really fucked up on his. A flash of something off to his left had him flashing his eyes in that direction.

A girl. She was dressed in a dirty white dress, no shoes, and she was pointing at something. He followed her direction and stood up as he started toward her. Who was she? What was she doing here? Just as Dean was about to touch her, she disappeared. Ghost. His mind immediately supplied. "Can't get away from the supernatural, not even in my own dreams." He grumbled. But there was something about her that made him want to know why she was still here. The girl didn't seem like she wanted to hurt him, so that ruled out vengeful spirit. But she did seem like she needed help…and what were the Winchesters if not 'knights in shining armor'?

XXXX

Dean walked into the empty apartment and looked around. It really was a home. Just not his. Whoever this version of him was…it wasn't who he was deep inside. He wandered over to the pictures and looked at the smiling people staring back at him. Who are you? He wondered before he sank onto the couch and clicked on the television. A cooking show popped up and he snorted as he flicked through the channels finally stopping on a news network. The name of another girl that had disappeared from an apartment building caught his attention. "There's no way." He muttered as he turned up the volume.

The reporter explained that a ninth girl had gone missing in the last few weeks. The only connection that the cops could find was that they all fit a 'type'…blonde, petite, and young. The ghost hunt that they'd worked with Jo…

Dean moved the laptop closer to himself, he typed in the name of the Asylum and cross-referenced it with recent homicides in the area. Four more people had gone insane and killed people that they had supposedly loved. "No…no…we stopped that." He groaned as the pain from that particular hunt came surging to the surface. He spent the next two hours searching most of the hunts that he and Sam had been on in addition to the ones that he'd helped out his father with. In every case the victim counts had increased and there was no record of the people they'd helped being alive.

Dean leaned back after closing the laptop. His fingers carded through his hair in a silent denial. In this reality he didn't hunt…neither did their father. So anyone that they'd saved? Those people died in this version of his life. It only took that one realization for him to know that he couldn't stay here. He had to figure out how to get back. "Silver knife…" He said to the empty room.

A memory pushed its way forward…Thanksgiving dinners with beautiful china and brilliant silver flatware. Mom's silver collection. He thought as he stood up and grabbed his jacket and car keys.

TBC…

Author's Note: So in case you missed it, this is following the episode "What is and what should never be" from season two. Thank you to everyone that read and reviewed. Sorry for the delay on this, but I hope you like the new chapter.

Please Review: So I know you're still enjoying this.