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.

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.

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

Previous Chapter:

"Dean? Hey…hey…" He said easily when Dean's upper body jumped and his breathing caught. "It's just me, man. You were dreaming." Dean shifted uncomfortably as he tried to get his brain to engage, his arms shifting down to help move his body to the left slightly. The lack of movement below his brother's waist was still disconcerting and Sam silently wondered if he'd ever get used to it. Somehow he doubted it.

Dean looked over at his baby brother in surprise as he blinked the remaining sleep out his eyes and then pulled in a steadying breath. "Please tell me I wasn't talking?" Dean had started talking in his sleep when he'd been eight years old. It was something that he'd struggled to control his entire adult life. Sam had learned a lot about his brother on those nights…but he never let on to Dean that he'd heard and more importantly remembered what had been whispered in the throws of sleepy dreams.

Sam only thought for a second before he lied, once again, to his brother. "No." Dean had been through enough lately without being burdened with the failings of his own mind. "But your breathing was way off, I was worried. Besides, it's dark out and we should get going." Sam watched as his brother stared at him for a moment before turning to look out at the surrounding area. The idea of hanging out in this area where the demons knew they'd been made Sam distinctly nervous.

Dean's green eyes shifted to the dark sky and he nodded. He reached down and shifted his hips into a seated position before turning over the engine of the Impala. He glanced sideways and saw Sam doing the same readjustment of his own lanky body. "You can sleep if you need to, Sam." He said as he put the car in gear and gently pulled back out onto the dusty side road that lead back to the highway.

"I know that." He bit back a yawn. "I'm fine."

"Yeah, sure you are." It was evident from the tone that Dean didn't believe anything that Sam had just said. He was still trying to clear the remnants of the dream from his head and looking at Sam was a little painful.

"So…you said there's a case in Indiana. What type of case?" Sam reached over the seat and grabbed two bottled waters, handing one to Dean.

"Vampires probably." His brother took the water and set it between his legs as he drove.

Sam's eyebrows shot into his hairline in surprise. "Vampires? Really, Dean?"

Green eyes flashed over to him in irritation. "Yeah, vampires." He didn't miss the fact that his brother stayed unusually quiet. "What's the problem, Sam?" His voice was exasperated and Dean was working to hold his temper at this point. He wasn't really angry with Sam or anything, but he was tired of the questions. He didn't have all the answers…hell; even Bobby didn't have the answers they needed.

Sam shrugged. "Nothing…its just…vampires. I didn't think they really existed, that's all."

"Yeah, dad and me…we ran into one few years back. Thought we were hunting a black dog…turned out it was a vampire. Bobby thought that this nest might know the next move of the coven. Guess they've been working together or something." It was true. The older hunter had told Dean about the hunt and there was a chance that this nest had information on the demon Dean was looking for.

"This stuff came from Bobby?" Sam asked. He looked out at the night before turning back toward Dean again. "Dean, how would Bobby know any of this? Last we talked, he didn't have a clue which direction to point us in. Why now?"

Dean swallowed when he realized his mistake. Thinking that Sam wouldn't put all the pieces together and get his own conclusion. Sometimes his little brother's big brain was extremely problematic. He couldn't exactly tell Sam about what he'd found in their fathers journal. Not until he knew what a 'sacrifice of pure intent' was. "He came across something in one of his books…and he called me and now we're headed to Indiana."

Sam didn't look convinced but he stopped asking questions. Dean thanked god for small miracles, because if Sam had continued to push this then he might have had to explain what was really in Indiana…besides the nest of vampires. Because there was a nest, he hadn't been lying about that…but he hadn't been completely honest about everything they would find in Indiana.

XXXX

Chapter 44

Alone in the Dark

Two hours later they pulled into a motel and Dean cut the engine. He leaned back into the buttery soft leather seat and reached up to scrub his hand tiredly down his face. The events of the evening were weighing heavily on him. Things weren't going like he wanted them to, although to be perfectly honest? Things almost never went how Dean wanted them to. Obviously…or he wouldn't be stuck in this chair because of some bullshit deal his father had made. He winced internally at that thought. He'd always thought of himself a 'good person'…but the decline of his life over the last several years was beginning to make him wonder. Maybe he'd managed to piss off the universe somehow. And then there was this whole thing with the twin-souls…some sort of supernatural connection he shared with Sam that he really didn't understand. The idea that, he and Sam were connected on a whole nother level than he'd ever considered…kinda freaked him out. He wasn't sure how he felt about this. Not to mention, if he had managed to piss off the powers that be…Sam might suffer as a result. He shook his head as he let his hand fall listlessly to his lap.

His eyes flickered over, landing on where Sam rested in the passenger seat. His little brother's face was relaxed and he looked so young that it reminded Dean that Sammy wasn't much outta his teens. Sure he'd faced some horrendous things in his short life…but who hasn't? Sam was now the size of a small country, but that all seemed irrelevant when looking at the sleepy figure. And now Dean was going to ask something of Sam that he wasn't sure his brother would give. His trust. Dean needed Sam to trust him. He wasn't exactly sure what they were gonna be walking into in this town. 'Walking'…that thought made him shake his head at the obvious irony of the statement. He'd pretty much given up on the idea that he'd get the use of his legs back.

The clues that he'd found in his dad's journal seemed to suggest that something that resided there could shed some light on both his and Sam's futures. Dean had spent his life trying to keep bad things from getting to Sam, but he'd learned that he could never have protected Sam from their father. Or the things that the man had been willing to do to get what he wanted.

He'd thought that the twin destinies thing would come back and kick them both in the teeth, but he hadn't suspected that it could so totally ruin their lives. Putting him in a position where he would have to lie his ass off to his little brother in order to keep him safe…and that was if Sam didn't have a damn dream about it! Sometimes the supernatural…just sucked! A slight groan from his right brought him out his musings and his attention was drawn to Sam stretching, his head rolling into a kinked position.

Sam had fallen asleep…again, his head tilted back in what Dean assumed was a very uncomfortable angle. He reached over and gently tilted his little brother's neck up so he wouldn't get a nasty cramp in the muscles. Sam came into instant awareness, his shoulders tensing and his eyes flashing over to meet Dean's green gaze in surprise. "Motel?" Sam asked and then blinked several times as he waited for his brother's form to come into sharp focus. Sam reached up and rubbed at his puffy eyes and stretched his back causing it to 'pop' in several places.

Dean watched the whole 'ritual' and felt his own shoulders slump. "Yeah…we could both use a decent bed and some actual sleep." He said simply. Watching his brother go through the normal motions of waking up causing a deep-seated jealousy to spread through him like poison. He wasn't angry at Sam…just at the continued reminders of his own circumstances. The worse moments were when he forgot. Forgot he was broken and tried to move or stand without thinking. His gaze flickered down and he sighed. For the few weeks that he'd been healed his body had started to repair the damage. The muscles in his legs had begun filling out his jeans again. As he stared down he realized that his legs were well into the atrophying process…much more than simply starting to shrink…they were significantly smaller than they had been.

The sound of Sam sitting up and reaching over the back of the seat for his jacket, hauled Dean back to the present. "Need me to get your chair?" It was a rhetorical question; because of course Dean needed Sam to get his chair from the trunk. Mostly because his OCD little brother had an unhealthy obsession with putting Dean's chair in there. But he ignored the inane idea of that question and settled for a quick nod. Sam smiled a bit and crawled out of the car.

Dean heard the trunk pop and the familiar squeak of the Impala's hinges as Sam pulled the silver chair out and gently shut the trunk before wheeling it around to the driver's side door. It was after midnight and he was glad that he'd even found this little out of the way motel. The sound of Sam's feet crunching on the gravel had him pushing his door open and reaching down to grab the denim of his jeans. He thinned his lips and held back a grunt as he lifted his legs and swung them out of the car, turning his body at the same time.

"So…you think those demons finally took off?" Sam asked conversationally as he waited for his brother to shift his body into the chair. It was the only way he knew how to handle seeing this side of Dean's disability. Try and make things as normal as possible between them. The events of the last several months ran through his head in a tidal wave of images and he scrubbed his hand down his face in an attempt to wipe them away. He'd been responsible for giving his brother the most dangerous weapon in the history of man…hope. By finding a way to restore Dean's health, even for a short time, Sam had handed his brother the potential weapon of his own destruction. That combined with their recent encounters? The Asylum, the crazy hick family, and the Scarecrow God…each of whom had picked away at the 'great-wall-of-Dean' as they'd tried to destroy the eldest Winchester. And then there was the most unforgivable thing…Sam's own possession. The things he'd said, the things he'd done? They weren't small.

Dean's green gaze swung around on him in surprise. "What?" He hadn't really been listening to Sam, his own thoughts had drifted. But as his gaze connected with the haunted expression of his little brother he sighed. He saw the beginnings of full-on emo-moment coming. A sudden shift in his Sam's face had Dean searching deeper.

Sam reset his own defenses and shrugged. "The demon…the one that was driving that police officer's meat suit? Think it took off?"

"I don't know, Sam." He missed the worried look on his brother's face as he reached down and swung his chair away from the car. Sam had been waiting for Dean's usual snarky response. It was starting to worry him that his brother's knee-jerk responses were getting more and more normal, less sarcastic. Five years ago, Dean lived and died by his sarcastic wit…but now? Sam almost never heard him engage in the banter that he'd thought was coded into his big brother's DNA.

"You okay?" Sam asked. He knew he was risking the wrath of hell just for asking, but he was worried.

Dean turned a stony expression in his direction and stopped pushing at the wheels on his chair. "I'm fine, Sam. Really." He schooled his reaction and reached down, turning the wheelchair back toward the motel office.

"Sure ya are." Sam muttered as he followed slowly. He watched as Dean rolled through the parking lot and then waited as Sam went inside and got them a room for the night.

XXXX

The place they were investigating was old, probably two hundred years. It didn't have a ramp so Dean was casing the exterior while Sam looked on the inside. The old red paint was peeling off the slatted wood in large curling pieces that fell into random piles on the dried grass near the cracked foundation. There was a cellar in the distance, although Dean had no intention of going near that unless he had to, and what looked like an old outhouse. The trees surrounding the two-story farmhouse were completely stripped of leaves and appearing to have been scorched in a massive fire. Although there was no other evidence that the old house had ever burned.

It was the perfect hideout for a pack of vampires…although Sam was still skeptical that they even existed. He'd never seen one and to his knowledge, he'd thought that Dean never had either. And then his brother had laid this bomb at his feet, not only had he hunted vampires, they'd nearly killed him several years ago.

His brother hadn't wanted to split up, but it's how they would've done it before his accident, so that was how they did it now. All the clues had led them here and neither of them was willing to talk about their reservations. Sam didn't like that they were once again deep in the forest and having to investigate a seemingly empty house.

Sam moved up the stairs with the grace of a cat and was inside the house in moments. He pulled his flashlight from his jacket pocket and flipped it on. The cobwebs and the dust inside the place made his nose tickle and he fought the sneeze that was working its way up his nasal passages.

Old furniture lay broken and scattered across the floors as he picked his way carefully through the lower level. Sam's eyes were drawn to the odd paintings on the walls and he furrowed his eyebrows as something familiar about them pulled at his memory. The red and blue intertwined symbols seemed to represent something that he'd seen before, but couldn't place at the moment. He filed it away for further investigation after staring at it for a moment and then moving on. His cell phone chimed in his pocket and he pulled it out and rolled his eyes when he saw Dean's number.

"Find anything?" His brother's gravelly voice floated through the tiny speaker.

"No Dean…I didn't find anything in the two minutes I've been inside the house." Sam didn't mean to snap at his brother's questions.

"Okay princess…I was just checking. Call me when you find something." The phone went dead and Sam clenched his teeth in frustration before shoving the phone back into his pocket.

A sound off to the right had him spinning and moving silently in that direction. His pistol pulled tightly against his chest, with his finger on the trigger as he searched for the origin of the sound. Sam slipped up against a door jam and then carefully peaked around the corner only to have a bat fly up into his face. He gasped as he fell backwards against a door near the pantry. A second later he was falling, his arms flailing helplessly as he tumbled through the busted door and down into a hidden basement with no stairs. His large body crashed to a stop at the bottom and his vision blurred as he struggled to look up at the dim light fluttering through the opened door. A lone figure stood there watching with a malicious twinkle in its supernaturally bright eyes before the door pushed silently closed, a click resounding in the space, and Sam was thrust into utter darkness. Momentarily blinding pain pounded inside his head and he reached up touching the painful spot, only to pull away from the warm sticky liquid running from the wound on the back of his head. "Shit…" He muttered, when the pain in his arm registered too.

He wanted to panic when he realized that his flashlight had been broken in the fall, along with at least one rib and definitely his right arm. He pulled the painful limb tight against his body and groaned as he forced himself into a kneeling position, blindly feeling around for his lost gun. His long fingers brushed across something soft and furry and he snatched his hand back when it squeaked at him indignantly. "Fuck!" He cried as the movement sent fiery pain lancing through his left side. "Damn-it…"

The sounds of shuffling and the weak scratch of claws on the cold hard dirt had Sam's head spinning in several directions. He needed to get his back up against a wall of some kind, because he was obviously not alone down here and Dean had no idea where the hell he was. That sparked a thought and he let go of his right arm long enough to reach into his jacket pocket in the hopes that he hadn't lost his cell phone too. He let out a sigh of relief when his palm brushed against the small device. A moment later he was swearing again when he realized that it didn't have a signal down here.

Reason 103 why I hate the woods. He thought in irritation. The scratching sounds were getting stronger and Sam had never wished that Dean had been with him so much in his life. He knew that his brother hated the dark, but Sam would have given anything not to be trapped and hurt…and alone at the moment. He shuffled backwards in an attempt to find the edge of the room. The pain his arm and ribs making his grind his teeth together. He wanted to call out for Dean, but whatever had closed that door was still up there…and it may not know that there were two them on this case. That might be the only leverage that they have…surprise.

A solid wall suddenly pressed against his questing hand and Sam sighed as he settled his back against it and dropped his eyes closed in an attempt to control the pounding in his head. Apparently, I managed to hit that too. He swallowed tried to keep from moving it too much.

"You never get out." A breathy voice echoed through the silence and Sam jumped and then swore as his rib shifted painfully.

"Who is that?" Sam called into the darkness. But there was no answer, just a mind-numbing silence. Had he imagined it? No…he'd definitely heard that. "What are you?" He asked again. But again nothing answered him and he pulled his eyebrows together in frustration and hope that Dean would get to him before whatever was in this house kept that promise.

TBC…

Author's Note: Sorry this has been on hiatus for a couple months. I am going to try and post weekly until it is finished. Thank you to anyone and everyone that has read and reviewed the story, I love it!

Please Review: It's been a while since I put anything out on this and I can only hope that you guys are still interested.