Hello everyone. It has certainly been a while, and for that i'm sorry. I blame it on life happening and a lack of motivation. But i'm back now and am hoping to update more frequently now that the motivation problem has been rectified. I hope you enjoy this chapter and once again, please leave a review because I love hearing what everyone thinks. They absolutely make my day. Happy reading.

Dean paced. He paced for three hours, forty two minutes, and eighteen seconds. That's how long it took for someone to come out and tell him that his father, not Sam, was awake and needed to see him. A wave of anger washed over him and he looked up at the clock on the wall. What he really wanted to do was wait for Bobby to arrive. The old man would be able to keep him from flying off the handle. Unfortunately, it would still take another two to three hours for him to get there.

With a wary sigh, Dean followed the nurse to his father's room.

After the woman took her leave, Dean stood outside the door and tried to prepare himself for what he was about to do. His anger toward his father was still pretty strong and he had to force himself to stomp it down. Yelling and screaming at the man was not going to solve anything.

Taking a deep calming breath he opened the door.

John was lying on the hospital bed looking like he'd seen better days. His father was as pale as a ghost and had multiple tubes and wires connected to his body. He also had a large bandage wrapped around his chest where Dean knew that Sam had stabbed him.

The moment he entered the room John turned toward him with a wariness that Dean had never seen before. Without saying a word, Dean walked over and sat down in the chair beside the bed. The two of them sat quietly for a few minutes, neither of them really sure where to start. Eventually, Dean decided enough was enough.

"You wanted to see me?" He said coolly.

John sighed and turned to face the end of his bed. "I know you're mad at me son, but-"

"Mad? Mad?! Oh, I'm more than mad. You wanted me to kill your own daughter for god's sake!" Dean couldn't help but yell out. He couldn't believe his father was acting like what had happened wasn't that big a deal.

"Keep your voice down Dean. Do you want someone to hear you?"

"Maybe I do. Maybe I want someone to hear me, call the police, and have your selfish ass thrown in jail." Dean barked out in anger. The tenuous hold he had on his rage was slowly breaking.

John sighed again and rubbed a hand over his face. "I only did what I had to do." He said softly, still not facing Dean.

"What you had to do?" Dean asked in disbelief. "What, in all that has happened, would give you even the slightest possible reason to have to kill Sam? Sure she's not exactly…sane, at the moment…but she's still Sam. My little sister. Your daughter."

A look of pure agony crossed John face and Dean felt a flash of uncertainty. "Dad?"

"You…you don't understand Dean."

"Well then tell me. You're always keeping all these goddamn secrets from me. Just tell me the truth!"

John sighed again and closed his eyes. "Alright. Fine."

Dean was a little shocked. John always kept everything so close to the chest and he never let anyone in, not even Dean. And the resignation in the man's voice scared him a little. He'd never heard John speak like that before. Not even when Sam went missing.

Figuring whatever his father was about to tell him was going to be pretty bad, Dean braced himself for what was coming.

"First off…I never stopped looking for your sister Dean."

"Wha-"

John held up a hand to stop his words. "Let me finish son. Then you can throw in your two cents."

Dean forced down his retort and rolled his eyes before motioning his father to continue.

"I only said those things to you back then because I wanted you as far from me as possible while I tried to figure out the truth. About a month before we had our fight I found something Dean. Something that proved that Sam was not the only one that had been taken."

"Wait, hold on a second. Other kids were taken?" Dean just couldn't help himself.

"What did I just say about letting me finish?" John scolded in an irritated tone. When Dean scowled at him he continued. "Before Sam, at least twelve other children had been taken under similar circumstances all across the country. More than half of them had lived through a fire which always started in the nursery. And in each case, when that child turned seven years old, he or she was taken within two weeks of their birthday. It took me a long time to connect the dots but when I did I realized that this was a lot bigger than just our Sam. I didn't want you anywhere near this Dean. I couldn't bear to lose another child…"

John trailed off and Dean wasn't really sure what to say. His father had just been trying to protect him this entire time?

"I know that we both said some awful things the last time we spoke but I want you to know that I did all of it to make sure you stayed safe."

Dean glared down at the floor before turning his gaze onto his father. "That doesn't explain why you told me to shoot her. That girl is Sam dad. Our Sam. No matter what happened to her or what she's done, she is my baby sister."

John stared at him blankly for a moment before tears started streaming down his cheeks.

"D-dad?" Dean stuttered out, completely startled. The only time he'd ever seen his father cry was when Sam had been taken.

John angrily wiped the tears away. "I…Dean, your sister…what she is supposed to become…" His father could barely get the words out. Dean had never seen his dad like that before. A sense of dread settled in his stomach.

"Dad, tell me everything. I can handle this okay. Just tell me."

John looked at him with such despair in his eyes that Dean knew nothing would ever be the same again.

An hour and a half later, Dean found himself standing outside his sister's room. Ten minutes earlier a doctor had finally come out, covered in blood…Sam's blood…and told him she had pulled through surgery…barely. She had coded twice on the table and was still in intensive care. She would need another surgery to repair the rest of the damage but that would have to wait until she was stronger. He had been led to the room by a nurse but was finding himself unable to actually go inside.

Everything his father told him was still swirling around in his mind as well as the fact that it was his fault that his baby sister was inside barely holding on to life. It was a lot to deal with.

"Come on Dean, you can do this…" He mumbled quietly to himself, trying to psych himself up. Taking a deep breath as if to prepare himself for what he was about to see, Dean pushed the door open.

No amount of breathing could have prepared him for what he saw. Lying there, looking like she was already dead, was his baby sister. If not for the beeping of the heart monitor he would have thought she was a corpse. Sam was ghost pale with tubes and wires hooked up to her all over the place. He recognized the blood pressure and heart rate monitors as well as the machine for measuring brain activity but the rest was gibberish to him. All he knew was that they were helping to keep her with him and that's all that mattered.

She had bandages covering her chest under a light hospital gown and an oxygen mask was covering her face, helping her to breath. All in all she looked like a fragile, broken little girl who'd suffered through a nightmare.

Sucking in a shaky breath, Dean made his way over to the chair by the side of the bed. Once he was seated he gently took her right hand in his own and held it tightly.

"H-hey Sammy…" He said softly as he carefully brushed her bangs out of her eyes with his other hand. There was no response…not like he expected one, but a guy could hope right?

"I really don't know what to say here kiddo. I mean I friggin shot you…"

He took in another shaky breath and rubbed his free hand over his face. "Goddammit…"

Looking down at her pale face, Dean couldn't help but wonder if what his dad said was really true. She looked so small lying in that bed and she had been so afraid of her abilities. There was no way that Sam was supposed to be some kind of monster. She was just…just his little sister.

"Sam? Can you hear me?"

Still no response. His hand tightened even further around her own. "Don't worry Sammy. Everything is gonna be okay…"

Dean wasn't really sure who he was trying to convince, Sam or himself.

He sighed tiredly and his gaze was drawn down to her still cast covered left wrist, or more importantly, to where he knew his name was carved. He hoped that at some point at least, having that there had given her some sort of comfort.

He sighed again and placed his forehead on the bed beside her.

"You're a real drama queen, you know that little sister…" He mumbled quietly as his eyes drifted shut. Dean was absolutely exhausted and slowly drifted off to sleep to the sound of the heart rate monitor…never letting go of Sam's hand.

"Sir? Excuse me sir?"

A gentle shaking sensation pulled Dean from unconsciousness. It wasn't exactly a calm awakening. Not knowing what was happening he jolted up and nearly collided with the nurse standing over him.

"Whoa, it's okay sir! You're in the hospital!"

Dean's eyes whipped around the room trying to reorient himself. "W-what?" He stuttered out as his gaze landed on the wide eyed blond standing beside him. Her hands were out in a placating gesture.

"You're in the hospital. Do you remember?" She asked quietly so as not to freak him out even more.

He looked around again and his gaze landed on Sam. Everything came flooding back and his heartrate returned to normal.

"Yeah. Hospital. Right." He said as he ran a hand over his face.

"Sir?"

He turned tired eyes in the woman's direction. "What?" He barked in annoyance.

"Umm, I'm sorry sir, but visiting hours are over. I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Dean stared at her blankly for a moment not really understanding what she was telling him. That only lasted for a second. "What do you mean leave? I'm not going anywhere."

The woman blinked at him before frowning slightly. "I'm sorry sir but visiting hours are over. You can return tomorrow morning at eight."

Dean scowled up at her. "I am not leaving my sister here alone."

The woman's gaze softened slightly. "Look, I understand that you're worried about your sister but she is surrounded by the best doctors. You look exhausted. Go home, get some rest, then come back first thing tomorrow. We have your phone number on file so if anything happens you will be the first person we call. Okay?"

He didn't give a shit about being exhausted. Sam was hurt and he needed to be beside her. There was also the possibility that whatever was hunting her could attack at any moment and he needed to be there to protect her. On the other hand though, if he pissed these people off they could keep him from coming back, or worse call the cops on him.

"Fine. Whatever. Just give me a sec." He grumbled in annoyance.

The nurse gave him a somewhat flustered nod and then left the room.

Dean turned back to Sam and felt the unbelievable desire to stay. He didn't want to leave her. She looked so…small in that bed. So vulnerable…

He gently ran a hand over her hair and leaned over to kiss her forehead.

"I gotta go now Sammy…but I promise I'll be back first thing tomorrow. Okay?"

Pushing past his overwhelming reluctance, Dean pushed himself to his feet and released his sister's hand. He stood there silently staring down at her for a moment before letting out a resigned sigh and turning to head for the door.

When he reached the lobby he was still trying to come up with some sort of plan. Maybe he could just crash in the Impala outside the hospital or something. But then his thoughts always came back to the blood all over the passenger side seat…

"Wow. You look like crap."

Startled out of his morbid thoughts, Dean whirled around to see Bobby walking toward him. A sense of utter relief washed over him at the sight.

"Yeah, like you look any better old man." He said with a tired smirk.

Bobby chuckled and then placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "How you doin kid?"

Dean took in a shuttering breath. "Honestly? Been better."

Bobby nodded knowingly. "Figured as much. How's your dad?"

"He'll be fine. They're already saying he should be good to go tomorrow afternoon."

"They're saying that or John's saying that?"

Dean couldn't help but laugh. "Bit of both I guess."

"Yeah. That sounds about right. So, uh, how's…Sam doing?" Bobby questioned softly.

He wasn't even sure where to start. "She's bad Bobby. Barely made it through surgery. The doc said…he said she flat lined twice."

"Jesus…"

"Yeah. They have to do another one when she's a little stronger, to fix the rest of the damage…I did this to her Bobby."

"Hey, none of that crap. You and I both know that you would never hurt that girl on purpose. It was an accident, Dean. You understand me boy?"

Bobby's voice was filled with utter conviction but Dean could only nod jerkily. It was one thing to know the truth of the old man's words but…it was another thing altogether to believe them.

Bobby sighed but nodded in understanding. "Alright, I get it. I don't like it, but I get it."

Dean gave him a tired smile.

"Well, I got a room at a motel nearby. Figured you'd get booted from here at some point, so how bout headin over there to get some rest. When do visiting hours start up again?"

"Eight."

Bobby nodded to himself and then gestured toward the exit. "Shall we?"

"Yeah…" Dean mumbled quietly as he cast another long look toward the bank of elevators he'd just vacated. He really didn't want to leave.

"She'll still be here tomorrow, Dean."

Dean looked over at Bobby with pained filled eyes. "You can't know that for sure…"

There was nothing Bobby could say to that.

Back in Sam's hospital room a man in a suit stood beside her bed and stared down at her still form with unreadable black eyes. He'd arrived mere moments after Dean had vacated the room and was content just watching her sleep. It had been so long since he'd seen her and judging by the way things seemed to be escalating this may be the last time he would ever get to.

Reaching forward he gently took her right hand in his own and held it.

"I'm so sorry Sam. I've tried so hard to protect you but…he's so powerful. He has all of them out looking for you now. Jessica was only the first. We should have killed them all when you left…"

She gave no indication that she heard any of his words but he still felt the need to say them.

"I'll keep trying but…I don't know how much more time I can give you. I'm not what I used to be. I can feel the pull…I fear I won't be around much longer…"

He sighed and leaned forward to place a chaste kiss on her pale lips.

"You have to keep running my beautiful girl. Keep running and stick with that stupid brother of yours. I have a feeling he just might be what you need to come back to yourself after what we did to you."

He softly placed her hand back on the bed and took a step back. The blackness of his eyes disappeared and pain filled blue eyes looked over her broken body once more.

"I'm so sorry…I love you Samantha." He said quietly, one last time.

Then he was gone.