Firstly I'd like to apologise to OubletShadowStalker for how long this fic is taking to finish, stupid RL grr and secondly I'd like to thank you all for the wonderful reviews and for putting up with my writer's block, procrastination and overall disorganisation. Also sorry for the length, one or two more chapters left in this fic! So, enjoy the chapter!

Dean wriggled uncomfortably on the plastic chair that sat in the hospital corridor and rested his head back against the white-washed walls, staring up at the ceiling and trying not to think about his brother and the mess he was in and failing miserably. He couldn't get the image of his broken and bleeding younger brother, lying there looking pleadingly up at him.

He should never have let him wander off alone, not when they knew the demon could be around. Sam had a vision and Dean hadn't been there to help him, his brother had been alone, in pain and Dean not being there had meant Sam had gotten hurt.

He knew how the visions affected Sam, how painful they were for him, the disorientation. It was no wonder Sam had wandered out into the road and a car had hit him. How could a person hit someone and then drive off, leaving them for dead. Dean knew if he ever came across this person, boy would they be sorry. Hundreds of bullies, assholes and a whole lot of Supernaturals knew that you didn't hurt Sam Winchester and get away with it.

Dean sighed again and closed his eyes. He just wanted to restart the whole day over. He could hear footsteps coming up the corridor as he rubbed a hand roughly over his face feeling far older than his 26 years. He heard the footsteps quicken and he forced his eyes open and started as he saw his father coming to a halt in front of him.

"Dad," he breathed, unable to keep the relief from his voice. He could see the pallor of his father's face and no matter how hard he tried to hide it he could also see the worry.

"Dean, how is he? Have you heard anything?" John asked, somewhat out of breath as if he had ran here. Dean swallowed painfully wishing he had heard something.

"No, he's still in surgery. He broke some ribs and punctured a lung, they need to fix it and stop the bleeding. He has a concussion and he dislocated his shoulder. They said he has a good chance though." Dean said, hoping that the last part would follow through.

John nodded mutely suddenly looking older than Dean had ever seen him, every line seemed to stand out on his face and he looked tired. He sank into the chair that Dean had previously been occupying and sighed.

"What the hell happened Dean?" He asked wearily and Dean looked away, not wanting to see his Dad look like this, he was always the strong one, business-like with everything, always in the hunt.

"I…well…I was calling his cell in the car and I could hear it outside. I got out and he…he was there on the road. He…he was hurt pretty bad and when he came round he said it was a car and…" Dean trailed off, remembering his brother's desperation to get across what his vision had been about, the pleading in his brother's eyes that Dean would do something about it. He knew Sam wouldn't want another family to be torn apart like theirs had been. He needed to tell Dad the truth.

"And what Dean?" John asked, sensing Dean's hesitation.

"Well he…he had a vision Dad." Dean said, watching his father and waiting for the bomb to go off. John stared up at him, face impassive and unreadable. There was a long silence in which Dean swore he could hear the cogs turning in his father's head and his own heartbeat rapidly thumping in his chest.

The silence seemed to stretch on for a life age before John looked up again.

"What?" He said and Dean swallowed, his mouth feeling dry as he saw the intensity in his eyes.

"Sam he uh…he had a vision. He said the Demon is coming for a baby named Rosie who lives at number five on Westmorland Avenue." Dean replied hoarsely as John stared at him, his dark eyes boring into Dean's.

"A vision?" He echoed, voice seeming distant. Dean felt like his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth.

"Yeah…um they started a couple of months back. He…well what he sees it, it comes true Dad. They start off like headaches." He said watching as John gripped the arms of the plastic chair, knuckles white.

"So, you didn't think the fact that my son is having visions is important enough to tell me?" He said, his voice dangerously calm.

"You could have picked up the phone and called me Dean!" He said, eyes dark.

That was it, something snapped in Dean and he bunched his hands into fists.

"Call you? Call you? Dad I tried calling you hundreds of times! You were the one who upped and left without a word, not even a message telling me where you were, if you were okay. Me and Sam left you dozens of messages. You didn't even call when I was dying Dad! So, sorry if I didn't think to call!." He yelled, radiating anger, months of pent up worry, frustration and rage at his father's actions pouring out.

John seemed to deflate, his grip on the chair loosening and he let out a long, tired sigh.

"I'm sorry Dean, you're right it's just…" He trailed off.

"I know." Dean replied softly.

Dean sank down in the chair next to his father and they both sat in silence, both deep in thought and waiting for any news on the youngest Winchester, praying he would be okay.

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An hour later Dean was sat in the same chair, John paced the corridor restlessly, lost in his thoughts. He walked up and down, hands stuffed into his pockets and his eyes on the floor, his shoulders were hunched like there was a great weight resting on them.

Dean wanted to say something, ask him to sit down but the words just wouldn't come. Time felt like it was standing still, the clock was moving so slowly Dean was sure it was going backwards. He just needed to know that Sam was alright, he needed to see him.

He looked up and noticed that John had stopped pacing and had an unreadable expression on his face. He frowned, looked at his watch let out a sigh before lifting his gaze to meet Dean's.

"Dean I…you said that Sam said the demon is coming…tonight?" John asked quietly, eyeing the passing nurses. Dean frowned not liking the expression on his father's face and where this conversation could be leading them.

"Yeah, tonight." Dean said shortly, watching as John looked away, still frowning, deep in thought.

"Dean I…I can't let this thing get away. I can't let it do to another family, what it did to us. I can't." He said, although his voice maintained its usual calm and controlled tone, Dean could see the desperation behind his eyes.

"So, you're going to leave Sam? To go after the demon, alone, uncovered." Dean said trying to keep the edge of anger out of his voice. The hunter in Dean knew where his Dad was coming from but the brother in him wished that for once he'd put his family first.

"Well, you could cover my back." John said simply as Dean gaped at him.

"Seriously? Dad I'm not leaving Sam, he's in surgery! What if something happens and I'm not here?" Dean responded, surprised that his father didn't know him better, surely he knew that Sam came first? He'd never forgive himself if he went after the demon and something happened to Sam.

"Fine. But I have to leave now if I want to be prepared so…be careful and tell Sam…tell Sam I'm sorry and I'll get here when I can."John said before nodding a goodbye and walking down the corridor.

"Be careful Dad!" Dean called out, watching his father walk away and feeling torn between John and Sam, being a brother and being a good son.

It was a potential lose lose situation. If something happened to Dad he'd feel guilty for not being there but if something happened to Sam he'd never forgive himself for that either.

He sighed in exasperation and sat back down, looking again at the clock. Now he had two people to worry about.

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It felt like whole millenniums had dragged by before finally Sam's doctor emerged and walked over to Dean who scrambled out of his seat, nearly tripping in his haste to stand.

"Is he okay? Did everything go okay?" Dean asked quickly, trying to study the doctor's face for any signs of negative news. The doctor held up a hand to calm Dean.

"Everything went fine, Sam's in recovery at the moment. We repaired the lung damage and we just have him on a chest tube to drain the excess fluid. We'll be moving him to a room soon and then you can see him. He'll be groggy for a while but that's normal. A nurse will come and collect you when we move him." He finished with a smile and Dean felt like the world had been lifted from his shoulders.

"Thanks Doc, thank you so much." He said gratefully as the doctor smiled and left Dean alone, finally feeling a little less terrible.

Finally when the nurse had come to collect him, he didn't even try to flirt with her, the only thing on his mind was Sam. He was nervous, nervous about seeing him and having to face him after he let him down and having to tell him that it was his fault their Dad had gone to face the demon alone.

He opened the door and walked inside, feeling slightly sick. He swallowed hard as he saw Sam lying still in the bed, IVs and wired attached to him, the steady beeping and humming of monitors drumming into his head. An oxygen mask was over his face and he could see the chest tube poking out from under the blankets.

"Geez Sammy…you look like shit." Dean said, taking a seat next to Sam's bed. He studied Sam's pale, lax face and felt a pang of guilt. He hated seeing Sam hurt. It felt like failure.

"You never do anything half-assed do you? If this is some elaborate plan to initiate a chick-flick moment then I think you went a little bit far." He said lightly but his voice cracked slightly towards the end. He looked down and sighed shakily.

"You better wake up soon Sammy. It's gonna get boring here, the nurses aren't even hot. How am I supposed to amuse myself?"

Dean reached under the blanket and slid his hand gently into Sam's, avoiding the IVs.

"Dad's taking care of the demon and Rosie. It'll be okay." He said, trying to reassure himself more than Sam who most likely couldn't hear a word he was saying.

"You better hurry up and get better Sam. We were just starting to be a family again." He said softly, eyeing the steady rise and fall of Sam's chest. He just hoped they'd all be okay.