A/N: Hi guys! I know it's been a while, but here's another one shot! This one is one of my favorites, so I hope you enjoy it.

I changed a few of the dates on the past one shots, but nothing that seriously matters. Just letting you know for the record.

As always, if you have any requests, please let me know them and I'll eventually get around to writing them. Eventually.

Disclaimer: I'm not a medical expert. But I am watching a lot of Grey's Anatomy right now.

End of July 2010, nearly three months after Swan Song

The front door opened quietly, Lisa's keys jingling lightly as she wiggled them free from the lock. She closed the door behind her, flicking on a light as she walked through the foyer to the kitchen. Tossing the keys onto the kitchen counter, Lisa called out, "Dean? I'm back." She opened the fridge door, not really looking at what was inside. Lisa sighed lightly, tired from the long drive to the lake where she had dropped Ben off for camp. "Camp looked nice. I think Ben's really gonna have good time there. The counselors seemed like they know what they're doing, and the bunks actually weren't half bad." She closed the fridge door, and suddenly realized the complete silence that gripped the house.

"Dean?" Lisa called out again.

No answer.

It was too early for Dean to be asleep (whether with help from a bottle or not), and his car was still parked in the garage. In the month Dean Winchester had been living with her and her son, Lisa had managed to forget that Dean came from a strange and dangerous life. That fact rushed back to her now, bringing fear.

A quick search of living room did not reveal Dean or his possible whereabouts. Lisa slowly made her way upstairs, her hand gripping the railing tightly. "Dean?" Lisa called again, a note of fear creeping into it.

The signs of a struggle became clear as Lisa walked down the hallway, a painting hanging crooked on the wall, the door to Ben's room hanging by a hinge. She peaked into his room as she passed it. Broken glass glittered on the floor near the window, the tall oak that dominated that side of the house swaying ominously in the wind. Fragmented shadows cast by the full moon filled the room. The dresser was on its side, everything that had been on top of it now scattered on the floor. It was if someone had been forced up against it. Repeatedly.

Swallowing hard, Lisa inwardly thanked God Ben was away.

She didn't dare call out for Dean again.

Two weeks ago Lisa had awoken in the middle of the night to the sound of moving furniture. She had found Dean downstairs, drunk, spray painting something satanic looking on the floor where her favorite reading chair usually stood. At first she had been upset, but the look on Dean's face as he tried to explain that it was for their protection quickly quelled her anger. Lisa had let him place several more of the sigils around the house, hidden beneath floor mats and carpets. If spray-painting her wooden floors made him feel safer, she would let him do it.

Now Lisa wondered if those sigils had done their job.

Lisa grabbed a baseball bat that stood in the corner of Ben's room and quietly made her way down the hall to her own bedroom, eyes wide and hands shaking.

It was chaos.

The closet doors were smashed in, clothes lying haphazardly around splintered wood. A nightstand lay crushed next to the bed, the lamp that had been atop it shattered near by. A light dusting of pillow feathers decorated the bed. The red bedclothes were half off the bed, as if someone had rolled over them roughly and quickly. Even in the wane light cast by the moon, Lisa could see something glinting on the walls. She swallowed hard, hoping that wasn't what she thought it was.

Lisa slowly edged around the bed, baseball bat gripped tightly in both hands, ready to swing.

A body came into view. A man, sprawled on his front, lay still and silent. He was big - much bigger than Dean. Blood was quickly collecting under him, staining the formally tan carpet dark.

Lisa moved carefully closer, her breath shaky.

"He's dead," a voice croaked from the bathroom to her left.

Lisa whipped around to face the open bathroom door. "Dean?!"

"Here," Dean called shakily.

Lisa flipped on the bathroom light, finding Dean slouched against the tub. He shut his eyes against the sudden bright light, groaning. "Sorry, sorry!" Lisa said, flipping them off again. She rushed to Dean's side, dropping the bat with a clatter onto the stone floor. "Oh my God Dean. What happened?! Are you ok?"

She cupped his face and turned him towards her. A beam of moonlight illuminated his face, highlighting the pain there.

Dean swallowed hard before he replied.

"Was a demon. Came in through Ben's window. Heard the glass break. Ran upstairs to check it out," Dean said gruffly. A grim smile played on his face as he said, "Guess sigils painted on the first floor don't work on the second."

"Dean it's not funny."

"Oh come on Lis. It's a little bit funny. A freaking demon climbing a tree." Dean coughed, pain creasing his face, "He really had it out for me too."

"Yeah, well, you showed him right?" Lisa said, laughing weakly.

Dean grinned slowly before another rough, wet cough overtook him. Lisa's small smile vanished at the sound, and she immediately turned serious.

"C'mere. Let me get a look at you."

Lisa looked down Dean's body, taking in his injuries. His face was bloody and bruised, with knuckles to match. Thin cuts were up and down his arms, bleeding sluggishly. As Lisa moved to grab a towel and wipe away some of the gore, something caught the moonlight out of the corner of her eye.

Glass. A wide shard of glass was sticking out of Dean's side, just below his ribs on the right side, his undershirt slowly turning dark with collecting blood.

"Oh god," Lisa breathed.

Dean glanced up to see Lisa staring at his side.

"Yeah. He got me. Right at the end. Hurts like a mother," Dean grimaced again.

"Ok. Don't…don't move Dean. Can you breath ok?"

"Mostly."

"Alright. Just…let me…let me grab a phone. Don't. Move," Lisa said in a shaky voice.

"I'm not going anywhere, sweetheart. Floors pretty damn comfy right now," Dean winced.

Lisa quickly returned to her bedroom, sidestepping the dead body, and dialed 911. Giving a quick explanation about a burglar and her injured boyfriend, Lisa kept Dean in her sight the whole time until she hung up. She switched on the side table lamp that wasn't broken for a little more light, and Lisa rushed back to Dean's side. In the few minutes she had been gone, Dean's eyes had closed and he had seemed to grown paler.

Lisa fell to her knees next to Dean, and checked the still bleeding wound. She cupped his face gently, and at her touch Dean's eyes shot open. "It's ok. Just me. They're coming," Lisa said softly, "Dean, what can I do?"

"Just…just stay here." Dean leaned into Lisa's hand, letting his eyes fall closed again.

"Hey! Dean! You have to stay awake."

"Don't wanna. Tired," Dean mumbled.

"No, Dean. You can't go to sleep yet," Lisa instructed firmly, swallowing hard. She was beginning to panic a bit, but damn if she wasn't going to let Dean know that. "Talk to me…talk to me about your first hunt. Or your favorite hunt."

"Which one?" Dean said gruffly.

"Favorite hunt."

A grin slowly appeared on Dean's face, but his eyes remained closed. "Vampire. New Hampsire. I was 17. Dad took me and Sammy with him after Sammy begged him. Didn't want to be left behind again. Kid was just starting to grow a pair and stand up for himself." Dean picked up his head from Lisa's hand, and laid it back against the tub with a dull thunk, grimacing as it likely aggravated the concussion he had. "Vampire was taking people out into the woods, sucking 'em dry and leaving 'em. So we went out into the woods where the bodies were found. Camped out. Freaking rained the whole time. Not exactly what Sammy had in mind, I think." Dean grinned again. He was slowly sliding down the side of the tub as his energy left him, his breaths becoming more labored.

Afraid that a sudden fall to the floor would do more damage, Lisa decided it was time for Dean to lie down. "Let's lay you down. C'mon," Lisa said gently. With groans and grimaces, and a lot of help from Lisa, they managed to lie him flat on cold bathroom floor, Lisa placing a towel under his head. Lisa could hear sirens in the distance, but it didn't ease her worry as she noticed Dean go frighteningly still on the floor. She checked the wound again, realizing it was still bleeding heavily.

"Dean! Hey! Did…did you find the vampire?"

Dean roused, blinking open his eyes. "Dad made us trek around the woods for two days looking for it. Vampires usually have nests: lots of them in one place. We finally found a little shack. But there wasn't a vampire there." Dean coughed bodily, groaning with the pain. As his coughs subsided, Dean went quite.

Lisa heard the ambulance pull up outside the house, relief lightening the heaviness that had settled in her chest when she had first spotted the glass shard.

"It wasn't a vampire? What was it?"

"Turns out it was just some freak kidnapping people. He'd bite them and then drain their blood. Some weird vampire movie fetish. Sicko. Called the cops," Dean paused to catch his breath. "Sammy… Sammy was pretty disappointed he didn't get to behead a vampire." he finished breathlessly.

"Bet he did it later though, right?"

"Oh yeah he did." Dean grinned, a proud expression coming over his face. Lisa couldn't help but smile in response.

Just then the doorbell rang, quickly followed by the sound of the front door opening.

"We're in here! In the bedroom at the back!" Lisa called out, before turning back to Dean. His face was suddenly serious, his eyes a bright green, staring intensely at Lisa.

"Lisa. I'm… I'm sorry this happened. S'my fault. Shoulda done better. S'my fault." Dean said quietly, unable to get enough air to speak more loudly.

"Hey! No! This is not your fault!" Lisa grabbed Dean's hand, clutching it tightly, "Dean! This is not your fault. You protected us. I'm ok. Ben's ok. I just want you to be ok, too. I need you to be ok."

Dean nodded once, slowly, still staring directly at Lisa.

"Don't stop looking at me, you hear?"

The next few hours were a blur for Lisa. The paramedics arrived and quickly tended to Dean, who despite his best efforts to abide by Lisa's instructions let his eyes fall shut as they moved him to a stretcher. The police arrived shortly after Dean was moved to the ambulance, but Lisa barely noticed. She only had eyes for Dean, who remained still and quite through the ride to the hospital.

Dean was whisked away from Lisa as soon as they arrived, Lisa trailing behind and eventually finding a waiting room.

She sat heavily in an uncomfortable chair with ugly purple upholstery. She ran a hand through her dark hair, closing her eyes at the events of the past few hours caught up with her.

A demon had broken into her house, looking for Dean. That was the simple truth of it. Demons were really real. And the man who lived in her house killed them; he had killed a demon in her house. Sometimes it was hard to believe that this was her reality. But tonight's events forced the reminder that Dean came from a life most only ever saw in the movies, and by letting him stay with her, Lisa had invited that life into her own.

That thought should scare her, but for some reason it doesn't.

Lisa debated calling the camp where Ben is to let him know what happened. In the end she decided it can wait; Ben shouldn't have to worry about Dean until he has to. Besides, he was already getting far too attached to the man.

"Ma'am? You're with Dean Winchester?" a gentle voice said.

Lisa looked up to see a middle aged man with dark hair, the grey just staring to peak through.

"Uh. Yes. I am. How is he?" Lisa said as she stood up, crossing her arms in front of her.

"We managed to extract the shard of glass from his side, which had penetrated fairly deeply. It nicked a few internal organs, including his lung so we need to keep a close eye on him to make sure that all heals on its own. He also has a minor concussion, but there was no bleeding. There are a few minor scrapes and cuts, but we're not concerned about them. He did lose a lot of blood, though, and we need to watch him for infection. But he should make a full recovery."

"So…so he'll be ok?" Lisa asked shakily.

The doctor smiled kindly. "Yes. With a bit of luck and a lot of rest, he'll be fine."

Lisa sighed audibly, tears of relief springing to her eyes.

"Would you like to see him?" the doctor asked gently.

"Yes."

Lisa followed the doctor through a maze of purple halls until they reached a room that had the blinds closed but the door open. Lisa could see Dean inside, lying still in a hospital bed with wires criss-crossing his chest and disappearing under his hospital gown. An oxygen cannula snaked around his ears and under nose. As Lisa approached, she noticed dark circles under his closed eyes, his face lax and unmoving.

"He roused briefly in the trauma room, and was asking pretty insistently for a Sammy. He was getting quite agitated, and started moving around too much so we were forced to sedate him for fear he would worsen his injuries," the doctor explained.

Lisa tore her eyes from Dean's face to glance up at the doctor. "I see."

"Is Sammy your son? A friend of his?"

Lisa swallowed hard. "Uh, no. It's his brother. He, uh, he died not too long ago."

The doctor nodded tersely. "With the amount of blood he lost combined with his head injury, he was probably confused. I wouldn't worry about it. He should wake soon. You're welcome to stay as long as you like."

"Thank you."

The doctor left, closing the door behind him.

Lisa pulled up a chair next to Dean's bed, taking his hand in her own.

It seemed that Lisa had just sat down, but what was more likely a good half hour, when Dean started to rouse. After a few seconds of quiet shuffling, Dean opened his eyes.

"Hey," Lisa said quietly.

Dean turned his head to face Lisa, blinking slowly. "Hey," he croaked.

"Want some water?"

Dean nodded slowly.

Lisa filled a cup at his bedside, letting him take a few small sips before setting it back down.

"How are you feeling?"

"Like I had a shard of glass stuck in me. Which I did," Dean said, gently probing the bandages over the wound in his side and wincing.

Lisa snorted a small laugh.

"So what's the verdict? Did they take anything out of me?" Dean asked nonchalantly. His eyes, however, revealed his hidden worry.

"No. You're ok. The doctor says you'll fine with some rest."

"Good. That's good."

Dean sighed heavily. "Lisa, listen, I'm sor-"

"No. Stop. You did nothing wrong and you have nothing to apologize for," Lisa said firmly, "You protected yourself, and my house. I'm ok. Ben's ok. You're going to be ok. That's all that matters."

"But Lisa, what if you had been home? What if I hadn't gotten him? I shouldn't have been so stupid with the sigils. I should have painted more. I should ha-"

"Dean, stop beating yourself up. The demon already did that. A demon, by the way, that you killed. And he was pretty big," Lisa said.

Dean grinned sheepishly. "He was, wasn't he? And I still beat him."

"Yes. You beat him. So stop beating yourself up. You can't do everything. And now you know how to protect the house even better."

"Yeah…" Dean trailed off, not looking convinced.

"Listen, as soon as you're better, why don't you teach me to use some of those guns you keep stashed in the trunk? That way, if I'm ever home alone, I can protect myself. Or, I could even help you. Be your feisty sidekick," Lisa smirked.

Dean smiled, tired green eyes meeting brown, bright ones.

"Oh, so you're my feisty sidekick now? You have to earn that position, you know," Dean said.

"Oh, I will." Lisa said, leaning down to kiss Dean lightly, "You look tired. Sleep. I'll be here." Lisa took his hand again, and squeezed it.

Dean sighed again, admitting to himself that he was pretty damn tired. He was out within minutes, Lisa still clutching his hand tightly.

"You'll be ok, Dean," Lisa said quietly, "You'll be ok."

A/N: I think this is going to be my last one shot for a little while. I'm just not as motivated or inspired to write as I once was. I also have a fairly big life change coming up, and I don't know how much time I'll have. But! If the mood strikes me again, I'll be sure to update this story here. Reviews always help a writer feel their work is appreciated, and that helps me want to write. *wink*

Thank you so much for your kind reviews and follows! I'm glad you all are enjoying these.