Nothing Short of Invincible.
Part Seven.

A contented sigh escaped Dean's lips as he shrugged on his father's battered old leather jacket, running his fingers across his newly shaven cheeks; his chapped lips curved into a faint smile.

Today, he was leaving the hospital. Dean's brow furrowed as he tried to figure out what was missing, pushing his hands into the leather jacket's deep pockets.

His fingertips brushed cold metal and his face broke out into a full on grin as he pulled out the golden amulet, slipping the woven leather necklace over his head. Finally, he felt more like his old self again.

He glanced up to see Sam beaming at him from the doorway, watching him carefully with unblinking eyes.

"'s creepy, dude", Dean slurred, unable to correct his hearing by ear but not allowing that to hold him back. So, he was deaf. That didn't mean he had to pass up a single chance to poke fun at his geeky little brother.

Being unable to hear had knocked his confidence to start with, spending a day or two communicating through a pen and paper before even attempting to speak. Now, he'd been working on lip reading with Sam.

Janey, the hot blonde nurse, had also been teaching him some sign language, although it wasn't just the sign language he'd been concentrating on during their one on one lessons.

Yeah, he was feeling a lot more like himself again.

Sam touched a finger to his lips, Dean recognising the sign now and perching on the edge of the hospital bed, his eyebrows knitting together in concentration. Folding his arms, he focused on his brother's lips.

Sam spoke slowly, putting emphasis on every syllable.

Dean copied, repeating the word, motioning for Sam to continue as his little brother fought back a grin at Dean's expression. It was a slow process, but Dean successfully pieced together the first part of Sam's message on the first try, his eyes lighting up as he beamed in victory.

"Do me a favour..." Dean repeated, his voice sounding strange to Sam. "Anything."
He punctuated his answer with a casual shrug.

"Don't get sick again", Sam said slowly through a smile, initially meaning it as a joke, though sadness and truth tinged his voice. Thankfully, Dean didn't pick that up.

Dean laughed, the sound echoing against the white sterile walls. Sam had missed the noise, the image of Dean completely breaking down in his arms was something that still haunted him from time to time.

Janey entered the room, causing Dean to look up, smiling that classic Dean Winchester smile. Sam rolled his eyes and was shot a look from his brother, before holding his hands up in defeat and heading outside, a smirk on his lips.

The blonde nurse leant against the bed next to Dean, turning to sign "How are you?"

Dean chewed the corner of his lip, shaking his head and sighing in frustration, admitting he didn't understand. Janey reached out and squeezed the top of Dean's arm with reassurance before repeating the movements, only slower.

The corners of Dean's lips curled when he figured it out, pausing a moment to contemplate his reply. He raised his hands, successfully signing back that he was fine. Janey nodded and grinned, letting out a giggle that Dean didn't need hearing to know would be adorable.


Sam went to get two cups of coffee, balancing one on top of the other as he fished in his jeans pocket for the car keys. He appeared back at the door to Dean's room just in time to see Janey handing him a card that Sam knew could only be her number.

He rolled his eyes on reflex, although in reality he was feeling nothing but relief that Dean was back to his old self, not that he'd let Dean know that anytime soon.

He knocked on the door, holding up the keys to the impala with two fingers and shaking them as Janey looked up, Dean following and noticing his younger brother holding the keys to his beloved vehicle.

The older Winchester pulled himself up from the bed and bid Janey goodbye, slipping the card into his jacket pocket.

Just before leaving, Dean turned back to Janey, touching his chin and signing 'Thank you'.

Janey nodded with a glistening smile that made Dean bite his lip as he admired her form, knowing full well that Sam would be huffing behind him, eyes rolled so far they were practically disconnected.

She mimicked the movement before raising a hand to bid Dean farewell, watching him turn and leave, glancing back at her only once before he headed off down the corridor.

She was going to miss having him around there. To be fair, all the nurses were going to.


Dean watched Sam unlock his baby, turning to open the door at the passenger side and climbing onto the cool leather seat. He'd forgotten how much he missed that damn car.

"Where to?" Dean asked, turning to Sam so he could attempt once again to read his brother's lips.


"Bobby's?" He repeated, receiving a nod from his brother. Maybe this lip reading thing wasn't so hard after all. Not that he'd be needing it for long.

The doctor's didn't know when his hearing would return, if it ever did at all.
But then again, they didn't know the things that hunter's did.

Something would turn up, it just had to.
Lives were at stake.
Stuff out there needed stopping.
Dean needed to be the one to stop them.
That was just the way it was.

Sam started up the impala, pausing when Dean pulled a cassette tape from the glove compartment.

Instinctively, Dean picked one at random and pushed it in, flipping on the radio. Sam freezed as he watched, the engine humming quietly between them.

Dean's hand stopped dead, his fingers resting loosely on the radio dial. Sam realised that he was holding his breath, watching his brother intently with sorrow filled hazel eyes.

Dean's face fell and he nervously shifted further into his seat, retracting his hand when he realised what he'd just done, looking up at Sam and forcing a sad smile.

Turning away from his brother (he couldn't stand the sympathetic puppy dog look Sammy was giving him), he rested his head against the cold window, closing his eyes and letting out a dejected sigh.

They left the music on, just in case, and pulled away from the hospital. Sam focussing on the blaring Metallica that filled the hand-me-down car, Dean focussing on the blaring silence and imagining the steady thrum of the engine. His engine. It was the little things that he missed.

Dean didn't know when his hearing would come back, if it ever did, but right now there was a cold beer or two with his name on it in the fridge at Bobby's.


Sorry for the huge delay in this, my computer had a meltdown and I lost most of my stuff.
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