Still don't own Supernatural. Not suing would be appreciated.

Anyway, thanks for the reviews.

/\-s-/\

When John was sure that both his boys were sound asleep, he slipped from the room. He swept up the glass and mopped up the blood from the floor. He taped plastic over the window, he'd fix it in a day or two. He couldn't imagine how scared Sam must have been, and couldn't have been more proud of his son or more thankful that Sam wasn't taken from him. He heard the floorboard creak behind him and turned. Dean stood in the doorway, his hair was messed up from sleep and he looked half awake at best.

"Is everything okay?"

Dean stretched hesitantly and winced as his ribs reminded him that they were newly injured. "Sammy was sick again and he wondered where you went. He said he's thirsty."

"Go back to him, I'll be there in a sec."

Dean shuffled back to the room. John grabbed a glass of water from the bathroom and a damp washcloth. When he entered the room, Sam was sitting up with the pail in his lap. Dean had a grip on Sam's shoulder as his little brother continued to gag and spit. He was close to tears.

John set the water on the table and sat next to Sam. "You're okay, bud. Just relax."

Sam leaned against John's shoulder, exhausted. John placed the pail on the floor and handed the washcloth to Sam. He wiped his mouth and passed it back.

"How are you doing, Sammy?"

He shrugged. "Didn't know where you went."

John smiled to reassure him. "I'm right here." He followed Sam's eyes to the glass of water. "You want to try drinking something?"

Sam nodded.

John handed him the water. "Slow sips."

His hands shook as took a few small drinks. He passed the glass back and John set it on the table. Sam drifted back to sleep. John moved Sam back to the pillow and pulled the blanket up.

He looked over at Dean. "Let me see how your chest looks."

Dean carefully peeled the gauze from his wounds. Despite everything, they looked good. He pressed the gauze back down and slumped into the pillow.

"You should get some sleep, dad."

John shrugged. "I caught a couple hours while you boys were asleep. How do your ribs feel?"

"About like you'd expect them to."

John stood and left the room. He returned with a glass of water and a bottle of pills. He handed Dean a couple and gave him the water. Dean took them without question and finished the water.

"Sleep some more."

Dean stretched out and was asleep within ten minutes. John moved to Sam's side and carefully checked under the bandages. The gashes didn't looked infected and they hadn't bled much since he stitched them up. He'd watch it closely for a few days, but there shouldn't be much to worry about.

Sam shifted with a sigh and his eyes opened.

John leaned forward. "You okay, Sammy?"

He nodded. "Sorry I got scared."

John gripped his son's hand. "Everybody gets scared, the only thing that matters is how you deal with the fear. You couldn't have done better."

"You don't get scared." Sam's fingers tightened around John's.

"I was terrified when I came home and couldn't find you."

Sam looked up into his dad's eyes. "Really?"

"I get scared. Dean too." He shrugged. "But sometimes you have to face the fear and push through it." He squeezed Sam's hand. "You do it all the time, Sammy, and I'm always amazed at you."

Sam felt himself blush and looked away.

"How's your arm?"

He shrugged. "Hurts."

"Do you think you could try and keep some pain medication down?"

Sam nodded. John handed him one pill and Sam swallowed it with a few drinks of water.

"Do you want to try eating something?"

He shook his head. "Not yet." He sighed and tried to stay awake.

John pulled the blanket up over Sam. He watched his youngest fall back asleep. Sam moved closer to Dean in his sleep, his head on his older brother's shoulder.

"You'd be so proud of him, Mary." He whispered. "Both of them."

--

Dean woke first. It took him a few minutes to remember why he was in his dad's room. As soon as he remembered, he looked over at saw Sam. He was curled on his side, his face free of pain or fear. Dean smelled bacon and realized how hungry he was. He slid off the bed without waking Sam and grabbed a shirt from his room. He pulled it on and walked down to the kitchen.

John stood at the stove, a plate of pancakes and bacon at his side.

"I'm starving." Dean sat down at the table.

John turned with a smile. "I'm not your waiter, you have legs."

Dean rolled his eyes and grabbed a plate. He covered everything in syrup and sat down. He ate in a way that was almost indecent, even for a teenage boy.

"How's your brother?"

"Asleep." He answered with his mouth full.

John sat down at the table with a plate of his own. They didn't talk about what happened, it was over and everyone was all right. Dean grabbed seconds and John smiled. John looked up and saw Sam in the doorway. He was still pale and his eyes a little glassy. It was obvious that he still didn't feel a hundred percent. He moved cautiously, afraid that moving too quick would bring back the nausea and pain.

"How do you feel, Sammy?"

He shrugged and sat down next to Dean. "Better, I guess."

John stood and put a couple pieces of bread in the toaster. When they popped up he placed them in front of Sam with a small glass of apple juice. Sam looked at it with slight trepidation and took a small bite of toast. It had been nearly two straight days that he had attempted to eat anything and he wasn't exactly hungry.

Dean looked over at him. "Does this mean that you're well enough for me to kick your ass now?"

Sam smiled and took a drink of juice. "Maybe once I'm eating real food."

"Bread is real food." Dean pointed out.

Sam rolled his eyes. "Jerk."

"Dork."

John smiled at his boys and poured himself more coffee.

"And juice, juice is real food." Dean continued.

Sam balled up his napkin and threw it at Dean.

"I don't know if you want to start that." He smirked.

"Start what?" Sam gave him his best innocent look and smiled.

And despite everything that had happened, and the nights yet to come where Sam would wake from a nightmare that involved warewolves coming through his window; everything was all right. All three of them were all right and they could pretend for a little while, something they all needed to do every now and then.