Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, although I wouldn't mind if Jared Padalecki belonged to me. ;)

Coming Home

Chapter 1

Sam gently rinsed off his three month old daughter with a soft white wash cloth decorated with pink whales and then lifted the squirming, slippery baby out of her tiny bath tub. Gently he wrapped her in a pink hooded towel and stood from his kneeling position beside the bath tub, wincing as his lower back protested. Hannah looked up at Sam with eyes the same color as his own and cooed happily as her pudgy fingers reached for his nose.

A smile curved Sam's lips and he pressed a kiss to his daughter's forehead. "I know; you love your baths," he told her as he carried her to her bedroom and settled her on the changing table. Hannah waved her arms in front of her and kicked her legs as Sam attempted to fasten her diaper tightly. He chuckled. "Hold still, you little wiggle worm."

Hannah just waved her hands in front of her face before managing to get a fist up to her mouth. She began to suck on it vigorously.

"You're ready for your bottle, aren't you?" Sam asked, as he tucked his daughter's tiny feet into a green onesie his brother had sent to Hannah right before she was born. Sam grinned as he thought of the conversation he'd had with his brother when he called to thank him for the gift.

"Too much pink, Sammy. She needs something that's not pink." Dean had sounded disgusted at the thought of the very girly color Sam's wife, Lily, had favored.

Sam sighed heavily as he lifted his daughter into his arms after one final swipe at her blonde hair and tossed the discarded wet towel into the bathroom as he headed toward the kitchen. Lily. She'd died the day after Hannah's birth. The labor had been difficult and had ended in a C-section when the baby's heartbeat dropped dangerously low. The surgery had gone well and Hannah was a healthy seven pound baby. The day after, however, Sam had been visiting with his wife and daughter when Lily suddenly couldn't breath and was grasping at her chest as pain seized her.

Sam had hugged his infant daughter to his chest as doctors and nurses rushed into the room on the maternity ward. Ultimately, they were unable to save his wife from the tiny little blood clot that traveled to her heart and killed her.

Grief and despair had rolled over Sam in waves. His wife had been a hunter, tough and rugged, unafraid of anything. She'd faced wendigos, vampires, ghouls, and beasts too numerous to name, yet was taken from him and their daughter by a tiny little clot of blood. It seemed unreal and Sam moved as if in a daze through the funeral and the dark days afterwards. He had longed for his brother, but Dean was working with a hunter friend of their dad's to track down a nest of rogue vampires. He'd warned Sam it would be a while before he heard from him. Sam knew his brother was going to be distraught and incredibly guilty when he returned from his hunt.

Sam ached inside when he thought of his wife and this home they'd purchased just before Hannah was born. They had searched for just the right place, and Lily had refused to settle for anything less than her dream home once she had decided to live a more "normal" life. This house had a finished basement with a guest room that Sam insisted become "Dean's room." Lily had given in and allowed Sam to decorate the room with his brother in mind. Dean still had no idea the room even existed. It had been finished just before Hannah's birth and Lily's death.

Sam adjusted Hannah in his arms and reached for a bottle to heat for her. The baby let out a squawk. She was hungry. "I'm hurrying," Sam chuckled. "You take after your Uncle Dean when it comes to food."

His brother was going to love his niece; Sam couldn't wait until he could introduce them. Bobby was going to try to get word to Dean about Lily, but Sam hadn't heard any news from his brother. He knew Dean would do his best to get here once he heard the news.

Sam worried about Dean every single day. If he didn't have the responsibility of Hannah, Sam would have gone to look for Dean himself, but he refused to leave his daughter to go hunting. If something happened to him, Hanna would be an orphan. Sam had given up hunting the day he'd married Lily, but Dean swore that hunting was it for him; he swore it was all he was fit to do. It was the only life he'd ever known, and Sam couldn't convince him to try anything else.

Sam thought of the room downstairs he had prepared carefully for his brother. Hopefully, one day he'd be able to talk Dean into taking some time off and staying here with him and Hannah. The thought of having his brother safely ensconced in the room downstairs made his heart warm. Maybe one day….

"Maybe Uncle Dean will come see us one day, Hannah Banana!" Sam enthused as he tickled his daughter's tummy. She giggled, but it turned into a whine.

"You're hungry; I know," Sam smiled as he retrieved the now-warm bottle and tested it. Shifting Hannah into a more comfortable position in his arms, he carried her into the living room and popped the nipple into her mouth. She latched on and sucked voraciously as her eyes stared up into her daddy's.

Sam settled on the couch and cuddled his tiny daughter close. "I'm worried about your Uncle Dean, Hannah," he sighed. "We should have heard from him by now."

The baby suckled eagerly, her little fist waving in the air. She was only worried about filling her empty tummy.

Sam chewed his lower lip as his thoughts wandered. It was so hard to stay put when all he wanted to do was make sure his brother was alive and well. Sam was grateful that he was able to work from home doing computer research, but the time alone gave him too much time to think. His thoughts often wandered to his late wife and to his brother. Worries nagged at him constantly as loneliness tugged at the depths of his soul. First, he'd lost Jess and now Lily. Was he going to lose his brother, too?

Sam heaved a heavy sigh and tugged the bottle from between his daughter's lips; he settled Hannah against his shoulder. She fussed as he gently patted her back until she released a loud burp. "Yeah, you definitely take after Dean," Sam mused with a dry laugh as he fed his daughter the rest of her formula.

Hannah fell asleep just before finishing her bottle. Sam set it to the side and studied the little girl in his arms. Her rosebud lips were pursed in slumber and continued to work as if the bottle's nipple was still nestled between them. Her smile belonged to Lily along with fuzzy blonde hair that covered her head. Her eyes, although the same color as Sam's, were shaped exactly like Dean's. It warmed Sam's heart to see a trace of his brother in Hannah.

A heavy pounding on the back door startled Sam from his thoughts and caused both him and Hannah to jump. The baby began screaming as Sam lunged to his feet. His heart hammered in his chest as his hunter's instincts kicked in. He carefully placed his daughter on a blanket on the floor in the living room before grabbing the gun he kept hidden downstairs. On silent feet, Sam crept toward the kitchen and the back door. The pounding was softer now, erratic.

Finding his mouth suddenly as dry as cotton, Sam maneuvered so that he could see out of the window toward the back door. All he could see was the outline of a person in the dim light from his neighbor's backyard. A frown marred his face as the figure slumped against the door, almost as if he or she couldn't stand any longer. Sam squinted. It couldn't be. The figure moved and Sam could finally see his profile. "Dean," he breathed, reaching for the doorknob and easing the door open so his brother didn't fall into the house.

"Sammy," Dean breathed as he sunk into his younger brother's arms.

"Dean?" Sam gulped, his stomach plummeting as his hand came in contact with warm, sticky blood on his brother's side. "Okay, come on, let's get you lying down so I can see where you are hurt."

Dean grunted as Sam shrugged his arm over his shoulder so he could support his weight. It was all Dean could do to put one foot in front of the other. Sam was practically dragging him into the living room toward the couch.

Sam felt Dean sag against him. "Almost there, Dean. Keep moving your legs. You can do this."

"Sammy," Dean slurred, as his knees nearly buckled beneath him.

Sam grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and tossed it over the cushions before easing his brother down to a sitting position. "Okay, Dean, there you go. Let me see how bad it is," Sam coaxed as he gently pushed his brother's hands away from the bloody wound. Sam's heart pounded in his chest. There was so much blood. He swallowed hard against the bile that rose in his throat and spared a glance at his daughter across the room. She kicked her legs happily and sucked on her fist, oblivious to the chaos going on around her.

Dean relaxed against the back of the couch with a groan as Sam grasped the fabric of his shirt and ripped it open. There was no way it could be saved. He cursed at the sight of the angry wound in his brother's left side just below his ribs. Dean had lost a lot of blood, and Sam had no idea how long it had taken him to get to the house.

"You need stitches," Sam fretted. "Let me go get the first aid kit."

"i'm 'kay, Sammy," Dean slurred as his head lolled against the back of the couch.

"Sure you are, Dean," the younger Winchester replied. "I'll be right back." Sam hurried down the hall and retrieved the stocked first aid kit he kept at the bottom of the linen closet for situations such as these. One a hunter, always a hunter. Sam made his way back to his brother to find Dean trying to get up off of the couch as baby Hannah whimpered from her place on the floor.

"Must not have killed it, Sammy," Dean grunted. "I think it's coming back; I hear it."

Sam gently pushed his brother back against the couch. "Blood loss has you delirious," he explained. "Your niece is complaining because it's past her bedtime." He soaked a square of gauze with alcohol and tried to catch Dean's attention. "I need to clean the wound. This is going to hurt."

Dean released a curse as the alcohol seared the open wound and tried to push Sam's hand away.

"Leave it," Sam instructed his brother, shoving Dean's hand away much too easily. Blood loss was having an effect on Dean Winchester, and that fact alone scared Sam. "Okay, all done, Dean," he murmured, glancing up to his brother's face. Sweat beaded on Dean's upper lip and his face was gray with pain. He rummaged through the first aid kit until he found the bottle of pills he was looking for. He helped his brother swallow them down by holding a bottle of water to his lips. Sam watched as Dean sagged back against the couch and decided to just get things over with so that his brother could get some rest and begin healing.

Now that Sam was sure the wound was disinfected, he doused it with holy water and watched Dean closely. To his immense relief, there was no reaction. "This is going to take quite a few stitches," he warned his brother, finally ready to take care of the bleeding wound.

Dean was nearly dozing off against the couch as Sam threaded the needle. Sam glanced at his daughter who was beginning to protest being left alone on her blanket. Her little face scrunched up and she drew her legs up to her stomach. Sam prepared himself for the loud cry that was sure to come at any moment.

He took a deep breath and pushed the needle through Dean's skin. His brother grunted in pain, his body stiffening against the couch. "I'm sorry, Dean," Sam breathed. "I'll try to be quick." His stomach turned summersaults as he watched the needle tug through Dean's bloody skin.

Hannah whimpered her displeasure and waved her fisted hands around her face. "Daddy's taking care of Uncle Dean, Hannah," Sam called over his shoulder. "I'll be there soon, sweetheart."

"Unca Dean," the older Winchester chuckled, drunk with blood loss.

"Hold still," Sam ordered as he pulled on a stubborn stitch, his brow crinkled with worry.

Dean gasped and arched away from him.

"Sorry. Sorry," Sam apologized as he used gauze to wipe away blood so that he could see better.

Hannah was screaming and Dean was sweating profusely by the time Sam tied off the final stitch.

"Somebody's got a baby, Sammy," Dean commented, nearly delirious at this point.

Sam could feel the heat radiating from his brother's skin and he winced. "You have a fever," he pointed out as he rifled through the kit until he found a bottle of antibiotics left over from something or other. He gave Dean two pills to swallow and made sure his brother got them down before cleaning up the first aid kit.

"I'll be right back, Dean," he assured his brother. "I'm going to find you something to wear. We'll get your stuff out of the car tomorrow."

Sam glanced down at his daughter who continued to scream, her little face red and angry. "I'll be right back, Hannah. You keep Dean company."

Sam stashed the first aid kit back in the closet, washed the blood off of his hands, and found sweat pants and a t-shirt for his brother. He wrangled the bloody clothes off of Dean as gently as he could and dressed his brother in the soft clothes he'd pulled from his own bedroom. Carefully, he helped Dean lie back on the couch, wincing every time his older brother moaned or gasped in pain.. Tugging a blanket off the back of his recliner, he tucked it around his brother.

"Thanks, Sammy," Dean yawed as his eyes dropped closed.

Sam sighed as worry for his big brother gnawed at his gut. "Get some rest, Dean." Then he turned his attention to his daughter, scooping the crying three-month-old into his arms. "Shhhh, it's okay," he soothed. His nose wrinkled as he got a whiff of his daughter's diaper. "Oh, Hannah, no wonder you're upset. Come on, let's go get you changed."

Sam glanced at his brother and was relieved to see that Dean appeared to be sleeping peacefully. He pressed his lips to the crown of his daughter's fuzzy head and carried her down the hall to the bedroom to change her diaper.

To Be Continued…