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 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.

XXXX

Chapter 41

It Wasn't Real

Sam stared into the darkness as he tried to navigate the cluttered hallway of the warehouse. The stairs were rickety at best, all angles and missing planks. He'd already stumbled twice and he'd been forced to skirt the edge just to stay vertical. The dank smell that permeated the atmosphere had Sam grasping at his throat in disgust. He hated crawling through these nasty dark places; it was one of the things that he didn't miss about hunting. He glanced in the direction of the large paned window that was lining one side of the hallway; he was moving silently down the hallway and found that he had to squint at the blurry images on the other side. He had no idea what was actually on the other side of that glass, but he knew that he needed to find out.

The light was dimming drastically the further into the warehouse he ventured. Sam wondered just how the hell his brother could have gotten this far. It's not like he could navigate these narrow corridors. Dean was in a wheelchair for crying out loud and there had been a set of stairs only a few hundred feet inside the first doorway. So that meant that either his brother had crawled up those stairs, although there had been no wheelchair at the bottom, or he'd been taken by the same thing that had been taking the locals. Damn-it Dean…why do your instincts have to be so fricken good? He thought as he rounded a blind corner. Movement off to his left had him flattening his back against the wall and squatting down in an attempt to see better.

The shuffling of a pair boots along the dusty floor caught his attention and he bit at his lower lip in frustration. There was something living in these dilapidated ruins and that meant that more than likely Dean had found that out as well.

Sam waited for the Gjinn to shuffle past him and begin to move back toward the stairs. He stood up and moved silently into the room that it had just exited. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the low light in the large cavernous room. But as the shadows became clear objects his eyes widened in surprise.

His brother was suspended from a beam in the corner of the room. A thick rope wrapped around his wrists and his thin legs hanging uselessly beneath him. A gash had dried on the edge of his temple where he must have been bashed over the head. He looked dead. A needle was secured to his neck and a clear drip had been created to collect the blood in a bag. Nausea built in his gut as he stared at his brother. Sam's eyebrows cut down in fear as he rushed towards Dean. The pale gray color of Dean's skin made Sam's insides twist in concern. He couldn't tell if Dean was even breathing or not. "Dean!" he called, as he got closer. When there wasn't a reaction, he felt his heart thud to a stop and he raised a shaking hand to Dean's throat, silently praying that he felt the thrum of a heartbeat there. "Dean…" He repeated. "Come on….come on…"

Sam blew out a long breath when his fingers finally found a slight thump. But the cool temperature of Dean's skin told Sam that his brother didn't have long left. He'd been in questionable condition to begin with and this had simply made things worse.

XXXX

Dean sat quietly in the Impala. He knew that he had to break into his father's house and then steal from him. There was no way that his father was going to understand this. But he couldn't live like this. Dean couldn't have a life where Sam hated him and he allowed all those innocent people to die. There was also the woman that kept appearing at random times as he tried to pull his life together in this alternate reality. He pulled his eyebrows together in rising sadness as he thought of the disgusted look on Sam's face the last time they'd spoken. His brother thought that he was an absolute waste of space. The opinion that their father had had of him in the other reality had been shifted to Sam in this one. And while knowing that anyone in his family felt that way was agonizingly painful, Dean knew that he could deal when it was his father. But not Sammy. Not the one person whose opinion mattered above all others.

Dean slammed his palm into the steering wheel and grunted as pain shot up his forearm. He pushed open the door and climbed out into the cool summer night and gently closed the driver's door. The house was dark, which meant that Sam and his father were still asleep. That was a good thing, because Dean didn't want to have a run-in with either one of them. He carefully picked the lock and slipped through the kitchen door. It was an odd sensation to know a house that he hadn't ever really been in all that often. But somehow in the depths of his memories he had a perfect recollection of this place. He knew where to step to avoid the creak in the hardwood floor between the kitchen and the dining room. He knew which way to turn to get to the buffet that held his mother's china and the wooden box that held the silver flatware.

He carefully rummaged through the cabinet as he searched for the box. Dean was so intent on finding the thing that he missed the sounds of someone coming carefully down the hardwood stairs. Just as he found what he was looking for a soft inhalation caught his attention and he was spinning just in time to see the baseball bat flying at his head. Dean shifted his weight and reached up to block what would have been a debilitating blow. The attacker was too tall to be his father, so Dean knew that it had to be Sam. A part of him tried to deny that realization but as his younger brother repositioned the bat and tried to swing again, he knew he was right.

"Sammy. Stop." He whispered desperately.

A sudden hiss of surprise and the flare of brilliant white lights blinded Dean momentarily. "Dean?" Sam stared at his brother and then his gaze flickered over to the buffet and the silver knife in his brother's hand. "Is that mom's silver?" His eyebrows rose and then cut down and rising anger. "You broke into dad's house to steal mom's silver? What, her dying wasn't enough for you? You gotta steal from your own parents too?"

Dean didn't even know how to answer that. He didn't really know who he'd been before he woke up in that apartment 2 days ago. But he was positive that he wouldn't have trusted or liked that version of himself either. "Sam…" He started quietly.

Sam interrupted immediately. "I can't believe we're related." He muttered. He almost missed the pain that flashed across Dean's face; in fact if he'd blinked he would have missed it completely. But that didn't make any sense. His brother wasn't worried about anybody but himself, hadn't been since they were young. Although, he seemed to love Carmen, but Dean also took her for granted most of the time. As Sam stared at his brother, he couldn't put his finger on what…but something was off. There was a glint of something that just wasn't Dean.

"Sam…I'm sorry. I'm sorry that you and I don't get along and I wish like hell that I could stay here and fix it…but I can't. I'm sorry." The words seemed to be tearing lose from somewhere deep inside him and they tumbled out of his lips as he stared longingly at his little brother.

Sam's eyes widened in surprise as he stared back at his older brother; he was just waiting for the other shoe to drop. But that had sounded an awful lot like a 'goodbye' to him and that didn't make any sense. "Wait…what?"

Dean shook his head and carefully stuffed the silver knife in his jacket pocket; gently closed the mahogany box and then put it back in its place. "Nothing." He grabbed his keys and started toward the door.

"Dean?" Sam called carefully after him.

He dropped his head onto his chest and stared at the burnished silver of the door handle, waiting for Sam to continue.

"Don't do anything stupid." Sam managed around his confusion.

It was like getting stabbed in the heart and in the back all at the same time. "Never do." He muttered as he pulled the door open and quickly stepped out into the cool early morning breeze. Dean took a moment to lean against the door jam as he waited for the pain to recede. He kept seeing his brother as he had been, the way he had been in the other reality…as his friend and his little brother. But those images were at odds with the fact that his brother had looked at him like a common thief and criminal just now. He swallowed the pain and bitter disappointment of his life as he pushed away from the door and walked to the Impala. She never seemed to be disappointed in who he was…too bad you seem to be the only one.

Dean pulled the door open and crawled into the classic car. His eyelids dropping closed as he leaned his head against the headrest. The sudden squeak of the passenger door being thrown open had him scrambling in his seat. Sam dropped into the seat and then inhaled deeply before looking over at his brother.

"Get out of the car." Dean said coldly.

"No." Sam said just as coldly.

"Get out of the car!"

"What ever you're planning to do…you're not doing it alone. I'm not going to let you." He turned and looked at the incredulous face of his big brother.

"You could get hurt." Dean said quietly.

"So could you." Sam shot back.

"Fine." Dean answered. "Put on your seatbelt…it's gonna be a long ride, jerk"

"What are you calling me a jerk for?" Sam asked. He looked genuinely confused and Dean simply shoot his head.

"It's…uh…never mind." He said

"So…where are we going?" Sam asked.

"Illinois."

"What's in Illinois?"

"A monster." Dean responded.

Sam looked around the car and finally noticed the brown paper bag resting near his feet. He picked it up and carefully started to pull the top open.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." His older brother said evenly.

Sam smirked and pulled out the glass jar. He narrowed his eyes and stared at the thick crimson liquid in disgust. "What the hell is this, Dean?" He wasn't sure that he really wanted to know, but curiosity killed the cat and he was definitely the curious sort.

"Lamb's blood." Dean said. His voice was devoid of emotion as he stared out at the dark road.

"I can see that it's blood…what the hell are you doing with a jar of freaking blood, Dean?" Sam's own voice was tense with surprise as he stared at the jar and then over at his brother.

"There are things out there, Sam. Nightmare things and we don't do something then no one will and people are gonna die." He didn't how to better explain what he knew to be truth to his brother than with the actual truth.

"What are you talking about?" Sam shot back angrily. He was scared. Dean was scaring him. He wondered if his brother had finally switched from being an alcoholic drunk to a full-blown junky that was on some kind of high.

"You know what…never mind…just forget I said anything." Dean said.

"No Dean, I can't forget it. What the hell did you mean?" Sam waited as his brother continued to remain silent. He finally pulled out his cell phone and started to dial the number of the local sheriff. Dean reached across the car and grabbed his phone and then tossed it out the window. He didn't even look over at Sam.

"Hey…that was my phone, I'm just trying to help you, Dean."

"I don't need that kind of help and I'm not going to a rubber room, Sammy." His cheek was jumping as he clenched and unclenched his jaw.

Sam looked over at him and raised an eyebrow before groaning at the comment. "Whatever." He turned back towards the road as Dean fired up the engine and they pulled away from the house. Neither of the brother's saw the curtains in the living room pull away from the window and the shadow of their father in the center.

The sound of Sam snoring softly in the passenger seat was bringing up all sorts of uncomfortable emotional responses within Dean. He didn't want to have these conflicting feelings for his brother. The part of him that had raised the kid and the part of him that had been jealous of his younger brother. Those feelings were only explainable in this reality, because he had never been jealous of Sam in the other one. He reached up and ran his hand through his blonde hair and then let it scrub down his face in an attempt to wipe the unwanted thoughts from his head.

They pulled up in front of the abandoned warehouse. A part of Dean had thought that it might not be here, that maybe he'd made the other life up in his head somehow.

The next half hour was a blur. Dean explaining that he couldn't stay in this place. Sam was trying desperately to convince him that they weren't in some alien world; that this was the real world and that they both belong here. But it was obvious that this tactic wasn't working with his older brother, so he switched. All of the sudden it wasn't just Sam and Dean in the warehouse. Their father, Carmen, and even Jessica were there to try and convince Dean to remain with them…that they could be happy here. That he could be happy here. But as he stared into the earnest eyes of his family and their girlfriends, Dean knew that he had to leave…he didn't belong here. He held the silver blade in front of his stomach and as he stared into the pleading blue-green eyes of his baby brother and then slammed the knife into his own flesh. The pain was instant and the blood gurgled its way up his throat and over his lips only to spill down his chin.

XXXX

Sam stared at his brother as he patted his cool face. "Dean, come on. Come on…please." Sam groaned into the empty room. His eyes flickered around and then he realized that he wasn't alone. Hanging from the other beam across the room was a dark haired girl. Her face was smudged in dirt and Sam recognized her as one of the missing locals. He gulped and turned back toward his brother.

"M..mmmm." The noise was a welcome sound to Sam's ears as he stared at Dean. His brother's eyes rolled in his head and he looked out at Sam.

"Dean…oh god…I thought I'd lost you." He whispered as he tried to cut his brother down.

"You almost did." He mumbled. Dean's eyes were unfocused, but he made out a blob moving quickly toward Sam. He tried to warn his brother, but the blob was faster.

Sam was fighting for his life and Dean groaned as he started pulling at the ropes that his brother had almost managed to saw through. The grappling duo was only a few meters from him, so when the ropes gave and he fell to the floor he didn't have far to drag himself. The monster got in a lucky shot, which dazed Sam. It was holding the blue glowing hand just above Sam's face as Dean grabbed the discarded blade and managed to pull his tired aching body toward the Gjinn. He ignored the fire that was racing around inside his broken system and plunged the blade through the back of the monster, he twisted it and watched with satisfaction as the light died in both its eyes and its hand.

It was at that moment that his body decided that the blood loss and the other injuries were too much and the darkness coalesced into nothingness.

Sam pushed the Gjinn off himself, though he was careful to avoid rolling his brother onto the concrete floor. He'd seen Dean's consciousness fade after he'd killed the monster and he was silently praying that the injuries weren't worse than what he was seeing.

An hour later he had both the girl and his brother secured inside the Impala and he was racing toward the ER, where he had every intention of dropping her off and getting Dean to a motel. He'd found his brother's wheelchair several yards from where he'd been tied up, almost like the Gjinn had been sitting in it and waiting as he watched Sam's brother die. He ground his teeth together in anger at that thought.

Once Sam had Dean settled in the cheap little room, he set about collecting the medical supplies and once again sat down to clean his brother's injuries. Luckily they weren't anywhere near what they had been the last few times he'd had to find Dean. Mostly, it looked as though he was very low on blood and had been severely dehydrated in the last couple of days. The holes from the gunshot wound seemed to be slightly infected, but nowhere near as bad as Sam had thought they might be.

He had just finished cleaning the shoulder wound when Dean groaned and his eyelids fluttered open. Jade colored eyes blinked sluggishly and rolled until they found Sam. "You okay Sammy?" His voice was tight and had a gravelly quality that seemed to be amplified by the dehydration.

Sam smiled slightly as he leaned away from Dean. "I'm fine Dean. But you have to quite doing this." He'd been pretty fucking scared this time. He'd had no clue where his brother had taken off to this time and in his current condition, Dean shouldn't have been going anywhere alone. It wasn't that Sam doubted whether or not his older brother could take care of himself. Because Dean had proven that he could. But the idea of losing Dean while Sam was with him…that was spinning around inside his head like a crazy top.

"Hunting? Not gonna happen Sammy." He muttered as he shifted his upper body and then realized that he, once again, couldn't feel his fucking legs. Reality washed over him in that instant and Dean knew that he was back in his own reality. The one where he couldn't walk, his brother had abandoned him for years, and his father hated him to his very core. He didn't have a beautiful girlfriend that thought that he'd hung the moon and Sam wasn't dating a gorgeous blonde and headed to Law School. But the one thing that he did have? Sam. In this reality he had Sam. He swallowed the disappointment at losing his legs and licked his lips as he stared at the worried expression plastered on his brother's face.

"You know that's not what I meant…" Sam started to say something else, but Dean interrupted him.

"I don't know where it sent me…like trippy version of reality…maybe a wish…I don't know…but it was all wrong." He looked up at Sam and for once his face was an open book. And Sam read it. "You and me…we were wrong. We didn't hunt. People that we saved? They all died and a lot more…" Dean continued explaining what exactly had happened and what the other reality had been and he watched Sam's eyes widen even further in surprise.

"But you gave that all up?" He asked with a confused expression on his face.

Dean dropped his expressionless mask into place and then lowered his eyes to his useless legs. "It wasn't real." He whispered.

TBC…

Author's Note: Thank you to everyone that read and reviewed the previous chapter. I can't tell you guys how nice it is to know that people are reading and enjoying the story.

Please Review: I'm asking that you let me know if you are still reading…or I may go ahead and end this one. Thanks.