So this came out of a new project Darksupernatural invited me to join. There are some really awesome writers that came together for this and I'm honored to be part of it. The premise is that everyone writes scenes for fictions and then sends them to one of the other writers. The project is called "Winchester Single Shots" and will be posted on Darksupernatural's page. We decided each of us will post the first scene under there own name, so that the readers will know about it. The writers taking part right now are – Darksupernatural, Merisha, Sammygirl1963, Blue Peanut M and M, Soncnica, V.R. Jennings, DancerintheDark101, Emerald-Water, and well myself. So check it out over on Darksupernatural's page. We are hoping to make this a long lasting project and maybe even add more players.
The bold part is the scene Darksupernatural gave me, the rest is from me. So here it goes.
Tossed Around
"Stay close, Boys." John said as he hefted the sawed off shotgun higher, fog swirling around him as he made his way through the cemetery, looking for the headstone belonging to the spirit they were looking to dispatch. "Dean, watch your brother." Fourteen year old Dean pulled ten year old Sam closer to him; feeling shivers working through his slender body, even as Dean released the grip on the sleeve of his jacket. The swirling fog gathered tighter around the boys, cutting them off from their father as a wailing filled the darkness. The shotgun blast rang out in the mist laden night and a shrill shriek filled the air. Suddenly the viciously swirling mist stilled and rested along the ground, snaking over the headstones and obscuring the names engraved into the weather worn granite.
"Dad, what's goin' on?" Dean asked as he held Sam closer, hefting the shovel in his other arm. The smaller boy was shivering with cold and fright.
"It's the spirit Son. She knows we're here for her and she's going to put up a fight. You keep Sam close ya hear me?"
"Yes sir." Dean said his face hardening stoically as Sam curled into his side. They walked a little more, fog swirling around their ankles like a hoard of snakes.
"Dean, I'm scared." Sam whispered.
"It's okay Sammy. Dad's gonna get her and keep us safe. Nothin' to worry about."
"Okay Boys, I've found her grave." John handed the shotgun off to Dean who tucked Sam up against a large granite grave marker and held the gun tightly, placing himself between the grave and the tombstone, and Sam, at his back. John put down his duffle bag full of salt and accelerant and began to dig the grave with the shovel Dean had carried in. "Just stay alert Dean."
"Yes sir." Dean said his eyes scanning the cemetery as John scooped the first shovel full of dirt from the grave. The night remained silent, fog snaking in to blanket their surroundings in gray mist. Dean could sense Sam shivering behind him as he heard his brother's fast breathing. "It's okay Sam."
Dean watched as his father continued to dig, the lull of the repetitive motion pulling him in. He didn't notice the fog rising once more to wisp around his knees like a wraith. He didn't notice the chill as it seeped in and laid claim to the air around them. The wailing started as the wind kicked up and Dean felt the gun being ripped from his arms. Sam gasped as Dean was toppled off his feet. Dean's head collided with a tombstone and he gave a pained grunt before falling still on the mist covered ground.
"DEAN!" Sam cried, horrified as he watched blood pool around his big brother's head. "Daddy!"
John glanced quickly at the boys, seeing the spirit manifest behind Sam. "SAMMY!" John cried as he watched the specter wave a hand at his ten year old son and sent the boy flying. John quickly rammed the shovel head home through the rotted lid of the coffin, exposing the bones of the woman to the rainy night air. He threw a handful of salt into the opening, causing the spirit to scream. Grabbing the lighter fluid from his pocket he doused the skeletal head with the strong smelling liquid. Sam's limp form collided with a tombstone, the edge of the worn black granite catching Sam across the lower back. He slumped motionless to the mist covered grass as John dropped the match into the hastily broken open coffin. Flames erupted into the night as John scrambled away from the disturbed earth and ran to his boys, both of them lying too still on the damp earth.
"Sammy!" John ghosted his little boy for injury, thankfully finding no broken bones. "Come on kiddo, wake up for me."
"Mnnn." Dean stirred on the dead grass nearby. "Da-"
"Hey Dean-o, ya alright?"
"Head hurts." Dean muttered as he sat up and put a hand gingerly to the side of his head, pulling the appendage away when he felt the warm stickiness of his own blood. His eyes remained closed and he probed at the wound, grimacing when pain ricocheted through his skull. He opened green orbs and blinked to clear his vision before looking to where his father's voice was coming from. The pain was replaced with terror. "Sammy!" Dean cried, scrambling dizzily to his fallen brother's side.
His eyes lowered to take in his little brother's prone body on the brown grass. "D-dad, I'm sorry. I was too- too slow. Damn-sorry, sir- darn spook pulled Sammy away from me and…" Dean paled as his voice trailed off. He swayed against his dad's arm, groaning a little under his breath."
"Easy Dean. Listen to me, if I put Sammy and you both in the car, can ya watch him until I fill the grave back in?"
"But dad, he's still out. What if somethin's really wrong with…"
"Dean." John barked.
"Yes, sir. I can watch Sammy. Sorry sir." Dean said lowering his smudge ringed eyes to the misty grass his brother rested on.
"Good." John said, standing up after shifting his youngest in his arms. "You know I can't leave a salt and burn uncovered."
John led the way back to the car, as Dean stumbled slightly; trying to clear his vision that repeatedly kept dimming around the edges. His stomach churned and he felt chills break out across his mist dampened skin beneath his clothing. He stepped closer to his dad, his shoulder bumping the arm that his father had slung underneath Sam's back. Sam moaned a little. John stepped up to the back door of the Impala and waited as Dean opened the door and slid inside, taking Sam from him as John lowered his son to the seat. "Now, I'll be back as soon as I get the grave filled back in and gather up the stuff. No one can know we're here. That's just the way it has to be." John turned and walked off after shutting the back door of the Impala on his sons.
Sam whimpered and Dean pushed his damp hair back. "It's okay Sammy, I gotcha. "M'sorry. Should-shoulda been watchin' ya better." Dean slurred slightly as he felt dizzy once more. He shifted Sam on his lap slightly and put an elbow up on the door panel, resting his aching head on the palm of his hand. Blood dribbled down his cheek as his eyes slipped closed and his head slid off his hand to rest heavily against the door panel. Sam turned his head on Dean's lap and whimpered, his back arching slightly to relieve the pressure that was growing over his kidneys.
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John hurried to fill the grave back with dirt. It had been with a heavy heart and extreme feelings of guilt that he took his boys to the car and left them there. His fatherly instinct was still screaming at him for it, telling him he should have taken the kids back to Bobby's house right away, while his hunter personality tried to soothe him with the knowledge that his friends house was two hours away and there would be no way to get there, take care of his sons and come back before morning dawned.
So instead he did the best he could to cover up all the evidence of the salt and burn in as little time as possible. After finishing he gave his work only a fast glance, thankful the grave was located in the oldest part of the cemetery, were no loving family members were left to visit and maintain the resting places. Picking his equipment up, he jogged back to the Impala, anxious to provide the kids with the care they needed and deserved.
He opened the trunk, throwing the duffel and shovel inside and retrieving the first aid kit. Making his way around to the back door, he pulled it open, unprepared when his eldest unconscious body slipped out and fell against him. Dropping the kit, he instinctively caught the limp form and tucked him back into the safety of the seat.
"Dean, come on kiddo, you have to wake up!" He gently tapped the pale cheek, while trying to coach him back to awareness.
After a moment he noticed the flutter of his eyelids and a small moan coming from his lips.
"That's it, keep trying, you can make it." John continued, his anxiety somewhat diminishing, when slightly glassy green orbs starred at him.
"Dad? What…?" Millions of questions seemed written on Dean's confused face, "Sammy…."
"He is right beside you." The oldest Winchester reassured his firstborn, not missing, when he instantly reached down and only relaxing when his hand came in contact with the thick mop of his brother's hair.
John couldn't help but notice that his youngest was no longer lying on his back with his head on Dean's lap, but rather turned onto his side, his legs bent almost backwards as if guarding a pain in his back. He worried about his continued unconsciousness but figured it was more due to shock than any injury. The kid was scared to death before the hunt even started. Having made sure earlier there were no external injuries, he knew that anything else would have to wait until they got back to Bobby's. Instead he turned his attention back to the older boy.
"Let me see your head." He ordered.
"It's fine, take care of Sammy." Dean mumbled, turning the insured side of his head away from his father.
"Don't lie to me and let me see." John ordered, putting his hand on his chin and turning his face, so that he could see the slow, yet constant trickle of blood down his cheek.
Picking up the first aid kit, he set it on his son's lap before opening it and pulling out some gauze pads and peroxide. Carefully he cleaned off all the blood until the source, a long gash leading from Dean's forehead approximately two inches into his hairline, was revealed.
Flinching, he said, "It's not deep, but the part in your hairline will need stitches. The rest will be okay with steri-strips."
He wiped the surrounding area with alcohol to allow for better adherence, before applying the strips. Using more gauze pads, he covered the laceration and secured them with wrap.
"This will have to do. The sutures will have to wait until we get back to Bobby's place."
Pulling a chemical ice pack out of the kit, he broke the capsule inside and kneaded it before handing it to his oldest to press against his injury, "There is some Tylenol in the kit, take some. Water is in the cooler at your feet." He instructed him before reaching over and checking Sam's pulse. Relieved by the steady thump of it, he pulled a blanket from the floor and covered the kid, handed Dean another one.
"Okay, let's go." He said, shutting the door and making his way to the other side to climb into the driver's seat.
"What about Sammy?" Dean's voice was filled with worry for his younger brother, who still hadn't moved.
Pushing his own worry back, John kept his response steady, "Nothing we can do for him here. Keep checking his pulse from time to time and let me know if anything changes. I'm sure he is going to be alright."
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John pushed the sleek classic car to its limits, cutting the time to Singer Salvage Yard down by a third. Sammy had started moving halfway through the drive, letting out a few small whimpers, which had almost broken John's heart for not being able to soothe his youngest. Instead it had been Dean who pulled his baby brother close, assuring him in a quiet voice that he was safe and things were going to be okay. It had taken only moments for the boy to lean into his sibling's touch and go back to sleep.
Pulling into the drive in front of Bobby's house, the oldest Winchester killed the engine and got out of the car, allowing himself only a second to stretch before opening the back door. He gently shook Dean, who after keeping himself awake most of the way to watch over his brother, had fallen asleep only ten minutes ago.
"We're here son." He said, "Think you can make it?"
"Yes, Sir." Dean responded, as he rubbed his hand over his face and let out a moan as it came in contact with the injury on his forehead.
"Good, I'm going to take Sammy."
John waited until his oldest moved out of the car and steadied himself before bending down and sliding his hands underneath the younger boy's upper body and knees. As he lifted and pulled him close to himself, it still amazed him how light and small Sam was. Money had always been tight in the Winchester household, so any of Dean's clothes still usable went into storage to wait until Sam grew into them. Just recently the father had pulled clothes out Dean had worn when he was eight and which just now fit the younger boy.
It had worried him until he thought back and remembered his friends used to call him 'Little John' until his junior year in high school, and it wasn't because he was extremely big as his name sake from 'Robin Hood'. Maybe Sammy was taking after him.
He was pulled out of his thoughts by Bobby coming out of the house. In typical hunter fashion, his friend was a light sleeper and didn't miss the roar of the Impala.
"Help Dean." John instructed as he slipped by him into the house.
Carrying his youngest upstairs and into the room the boys shared while staying here, he carefully laid him down on one of the beds. The moment Sam's back touched the bed, a moan escaped the boy and instinctively he rolled onto his side. Pulling up first the hoodie, then the t-shirt, John let out a gasp at the large bruise that reached from the left side of the boy's lower and mid back all the way to his spine and partially beyond.
"Sammy okay?" Bobby asked, while helping an unsteady Dean to sit down on the other bed.
"I hope so. Would you get me an ice pack for him?" The other man's voice was laced with concern.
"Be right back." Bobby left the room, returning a few minutes later with two ice packs and towels; he wrapped them, handing one to Dean and the other to his friend.
Placing the pack on the boy's back elicited a moan from Sam and this time John found himself facing large pain and fear filled orbs.
"Hey Sammy, how you doing there kiddo?"
The answer came hesitating and in a tiny voice, "F...fine Sir!"
Before the oldest Winchester could respond, he heard Dean's voice coming from beside him, "Don't do that Sammy, no one expects you to lie." Turning to his father, he said, "I told you he wasn't ready."
Swallowing hard, John reached over and stroked the dark curls out of his youngest face, "I know you're hurting, it's okay to say so."
Unable to contain his tears any longer, the youngest Winchester sobbed, "I don't have to suck it up?"
The father felt like he just had been slapped in the face. How in the world could he have done this to his own child?
"I'm sorry Sammy; I should never have told you that. No, you don't have to suck it up, not now, not ever."
"So how're you really?" It was Dean, who asked the question this time.
"It hurts, in my back." Looking up at his brother, he added, "You okay Dean?"
"You mean this?" He pointed at the bandage around his head, "This is nothing, you know I have a hard head."
"I'm sorry Dean; it's my fault you got hurt." Another tear made its way from one of the large expressive eyes down his cheek.
"How is it your fault? I'm the one who got distracted and let his guard down." His older brother protested. "Why don't you get some sleep squirt? If you need anything, I'll be right here."
"Not until he takes some Tylenol." John interfered; handing his youngest a tablet and helping him sit up to drink some water. After making the younger boy as comfortable as possible, he stroked some of the stray hair out of his face, "Rest now son, you are safe now." Feeling the trembling running trough the child, he added, "You are safe now, no more spirits or anything else that can hurt you."
Only after the small body under his hand relaxed in sleep did he turn to Bobby, who was quietly standing by, ready to help whenever needed and said, "Would you mind stitching Dean up? I think I'm going to take a shower."
The other man gladly obliged. Having noted the slight shake in the other man's hands a while ago, he had been ready to stop him from doing the intricate task anyway. He let out a breath of relief, knowing John's stubbornness; this could have turned into a fight, if the hunter wouldn't have realized he was unable to complete his son's wound care without help.
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Twenty minutes later Bobby Singer stepped into his living room, finding his friend sitting on the couch with his head in his hands.
Sitting down beside him, he said, "They're gonna be alright."
"Are they?" The oldest Winchester gave him a pained look, "I know Dean had worse before but what about Sammy?"
"We'll keep a close eye on him."
"That's not what I mean Bobby and you know it. I shouldn't have taken him. He wasn't ready. He was scared out of his wits ever since I told him yesterday he was going."
"Yeah, he was." The other man agreed, "But he was also excited. He wanted to do this."
"Darn it, Bobby, until last Christmas the kid didn't even know about hunting. I should have prepared him better."
John slid his hand through his hair and locked eyes with his friend for just a moment, before looking down again. He had done what he thought was right but now it looked like he had been wrong.
"Dean grew into hunting like it was the most natural thing in the world. It was like when you throw a fish into water, it starts swimming without thinking. Maybe I shouldn't have protected Sammy for so long. Maybe, if I would have let him in on everything from the beginning, just like I did with Dean, things would be different now."
Bobby listened with a serious expression on his face, all the while considering what John was saying. He hesitated slightly, knowing that he might step into a bee hive, then spoke up.
"You've got two sons, not one son and his clone. No matter what you would've done with Sam, he would've never acted the same as Dean, because he is not his brother. Your firstborn has the hunter instinct, it's like he was bred to be one. You are one of the best John but I can promise you, Dean will be better. Sam on the other hand is different. He is nothing like Dean or even you and me. That doesn't mean he can't be an excellent hunter, but he sees things differently."
"How can you say that? He is just a little boy." The Winchester patriarch interrupted his friend.
"Because you can too, think about it. Sammy is a dreamer; he has imagination and more than anything, he questions things. Not really bad qualities but not what you expect to see in a hunter. Those might be qualities though that could make him a great researcher and find things others might overlook definitely. I have a feeling he and his brother will make a hell of a team one day." Bobby smirked.
"Maybe you're right." John mused.
"I know I am. Just give the kid some time, he is…"
A scream from upstairs interrupted the two men, making them jump up and run up to the next floor.
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Dean had fallen asleep shortly after Bobby finished putting the last stitch into the laceration on his head. His sleep wasn't peaceful though, as he relived the events in the cemetery over and over again. Every time things played out a little different. Sometimes his dad got tossed by the spirit and sometimes it was him, but it always ended with Sammy getting tossed into the grave marker and looking accusingly at him, a few indistinct words coming across his lips, followed by a deep groan and the life leaving his eyes. This round wasn't different, only this time, after looking at him, a loud scream came across his baby brother's lips.
Sitting up and looking around with confusion, the older boy realized the other bed was no longer occupied. When another scream sounded, this time coming out as a very distinct and frightened "Dean", he was up and in the bathroom from where the call came, before dizziness had time to assault him.
Seeing Sam stand by the stool, his pants haphazardly pulled up but not buttoned, his eyes fixed on something inside and terror written on his face, made him stop in his tracks. Seconds later he felt the presence of his dad and Bobby behind him.
"Sammy, you okay?"
"I peed red and it hurts really bad in my back." The boy whimpered as he slid down onto his knees, obviously assaulted by another wave of pain.
Dean bent down, ignoring the vertigo threatening to topple him, and wrapped his arms around his baby brother. Sam nestled into his touch, putting his head on his shoulder.
Rubbing gently circles on his back, careful not to touch the bruised area, the older brother soothed, "You're going to be fine squirt, we gonna get you all fixed up. Right dad?!" He threw a glance over to their father.
"Dean is right Sammy. We get you to a doctor and he will take care of you. Nothing bad is gonna happen to you, I promise."
"I get the car started." Bobby threw in, "I know most the doctors in the Emergency Department, they're all good guys." He added before leaving.
"Dean, why don't you let me take Sammy and you get a blanket to wrap him in." John bent down and took his youngest out of his brother's arms.
Noting the kid was trembling, he gently let his hand glide through the dark mop of hair.
He would give the world to take the pain from his little boy. Carrying him out, he met up with Dean in the hallway. He took the blanket from him and carefully wrapped it around Sam, making sure not to come in contact with the bruised area on his back.
Together they walked downstairs and out of the house, where Bobby had the Impala ready to go. Letting Dean get into the backseat again, he handed Sam of to him, then climbed into the passenger seat. For once he had no desire to drive.
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The half hour trip to the hospital had gone off without a hitch and for once the Winchesters got lucky, the Emergency Department was all but abandoned and the Doctor on duty was one of Bobby's friends.
After checking Sam out and having the lab draw some blood, he sent the young boy for an abdominal MRI to assess the damage to his kidney. Dean was allowed to go with his brother and although he wasn't able to stay in the room with him, he could communicate with Sam through the headphones the technician put on the boy to dampen some of the loud noise from the MRI scan.
An hour after they had entered the hospital, the small family was sitting in one of the treatment rooms, waiting for Dr. Manheim to tell them the results. Dean was sitting on the bed, a sleeping Sam leaning against him. The younger boy had fallen asleep within minutes after the nurse had started an IV and given him something for the pain. Even though, Dean couldn't bring himself to let go of his baby brother quite yet. John and Bobby were sitting on chairs, both lost in their own thoughts.
That's how the young physician found them, when he finally entered the room.
"I got Sam's test results."
The simple statement got the attention of everyone except of the one in the center of it all. The youngest Winchester continued to be lost in his drug induced slumber.
"I reviewed the MRI and it looks like there is a small tear in the right kidney. That's where the blood is coming from."
Taking a deep breath, John locked eyes with his teenage son before asking, "So how bad is it?"
"As I said, it's only a small tear but that doesn't necessarily mean it isn't dangerous. Now I looked at the blood count we did and his hemoglobin is still within the normal range. So there is a good chance it won't need any surgical intervention."
There was an audible sigh of relief coming from all awake members of the family.
"That's great news." Dean said, stating the thought of the two adults.
"It is good news but we still have to monitor him closely for at least a week. I want to admit him to our pediatric unit and keep him on IV fluids to flush the kidneys. I also want to put a Foley catheter in so we can keep a close eye on his output and see any changes in the amount of bleeding."
"A catheter?" Dean blasted out, "dude, Sammy won't like that."
Dr. Manheim smiled, "I can believe that. but that's were you come in. I can see that your brother looks up to you, so I'm sure he will listen to you, if you explain to him why this is necessary.
"I'll try, but you don't know Sammy, if he doesn't like something, he can be pretty stubborn." The older boy smirked.
"I'm sure you'll figure something out." The physician responded. "Sam will have to be on bed rest for at least a week. If the bleeding stopped by then, we can take the Foley out and let him go home."
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It turned out that Sam didn't fight the catheter or even the bed rest, the other thing John had been really worried about. Although he tried not to show it, his pain was bad enough that the ten year old couldn't always hold the tears and moans back. He refused to take his ordered pain meds, because although his father had told him he didn't need to suck it up, he was still afraid John would see it as a weakness. John and Dean tried to talk to him and encourage him and finally the oldest Winchester even ordered him to take it. For some unknown reason even Dean couldn't figure out, Sam remained stubborn. In the end it was Dr. Manheim who intervened and ordered a PCA with a baseline hourly dose of pain medication for Sam. He also instructed the rest of the family to push the button to release the breakthrough dose whenever he so much as flinched, explaining that sometimes pain could make people act in strange ways.
So for the first several days of his hospital stay the youngest Winchester was pretty doped up with narcotics, leading him to sleep most of the time and if he was awake not totally act like himself. It was John who stumbled upon that fact first. Bobby had taken Dean to the cafeteria for some dinner, while the father held watch over his youngest. It was the second day of his hospital stay and again Sam spent most of the day asleep. Although worried about his son, John let the doctor convince him it was only due to the excruciating pain the boy suffered the previous day and the lack of sleep that came from it.
Looking up from the book he was reading, he noticed Sam's eyes were open. Grabbing the water glass from the night stand, he held the straw to his son's lips. The boy took a few sips, then looked at him with big fear filled eyes, finally stretching his arms out for John, "Daddy, scared."
Surprised by the reaction, but unable to refuse, John sat down on the bed and pulled his son into his lap, embracing him, while making sure he wouldn't disconnect his IV line. Feeling the shivering going through the small body and hearing the sobs coming from the Sam's lips, he gently stroked his hair, whispering soothing reassurances into his ear. After several minutes the trembling and crying stopped and when he checked, he noticed Sam had gone back to sleep, the thumb of one hand in his mouth and holding on to his father's shirt with the other.
Not wanting to wake him up, John continued to sit on the bed until Dean and Bobby came back.
Seeing his dad and brother in their current position, the older boy couldn't help but smile, "You know dad, this is exactly the way Sammy used to snuggle up to you when he was two or three."
It hit the hunter like a lightning bolt right then, "Man, you are right. That's exactly like he acted too. This is so strange."
Worried about his youngest sudden regression, he hit the call light, asking the appearing nurse to notify Dr. Manheim.
It took about an hour before the physician appeared. He had gone home for the day but left notice he wanted to be called with anything concerning his young patient.
"So what's going on?" He asked, visible worried but trying to keep it light.
John explained Sam's reaction to him, adding that the kid didn't call him daddy since he was seven and the last time he put his thumb in his mouth was when he was not more then four.
"I understand your worry." The physician smiled, "I just want you to know, although it doesn't happen very often, it is not unusual for a child like Sam to revert to an earlier, safer stage when on higher doses on narcotics. If you want to, we can decrease the dose, I'm just afraid it might not be enough to cover his pain."
Dean and John exchanged glances, discussing without words how to proceed. Finally John spoke up.
"No, we deal with it. A younger Sammy isn't so bad. It's kinda nice to hold my little boy in my arms again. He hasn't let me do this in a long time." He looked down on his son, who was still snuggled up in his arms, a content sigh coming from his lips at just that moment, "How long do you think he will need to stay on the meds?"
"Well looking at his lab results, his blood count is down but not at a critical rate and his urine analysis shows slightly less blood, so I think the tear is starting to seal itself. Hopefully within the next day or two Sam's pain will improve too. I will keep him on the present baseline rate for the night and decrease it by a third in the morning. We'll see how he will do with that."
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After decreasing Sam's baseline dosage the next morning and finding that it didn't increase his pain, Dr. Manheim continued to monitor his young patient for another twelve hours before cutting the dose back further. As a result the youngest Winchester, although still fairly drowsy at times, was much more alert and back to his old self.
John took the opportunity to sit down and have a talk with his youngest, feeling he owed him an apology for what had happened. Sitting down beside the bed, he suddenly found himself tongue tied and at a loss for words. After all, this was his little boy, the last gift Mary had left him.
Sam, sitting up in his bed and comfortably surrounded by lots of pillows, most of which Dean had organized from somewhere in the hospital, looked at his father with his biggest eyes. He could read the discomfort on the adult's face and for a moment felt sad for him.
"I'm sorry, Sir, I know you are disappointed in me." He started.
"No, Sammy, you didn't disappoint me at all." Suddenly the Winchester patriarch had to swallow to keep his voice from cracking, "I pushed you into this way too fast. I knew you weren't ready but I chose to ignore it. I promise I will make it up to you. You have to learn but I let you lead me and tell me when you are ready."
"I know you're just doing what you think is best. I want to help, I really do. Can I start by helping you with researching before the hunts? I would really like that, because then I can learn more about the creatures and maybe I won't be so scared. You know, they say 'knowledge is power'. Do you think that would work?"
John didn't realize he was listening with his mouth open until he felt drool running out the corner of his mouth. Wiping it off with his sleeve, he pressed his lips together, curling them up to a slight smile, "Okay, how old are you? Thirty?"
"Daaad." Sam protested, "I'm just trying to do my part."
"I know Sammy but I don't want you to think you have to be all grown up suddenly."
"I just want to be like Dean and I want you to be proud of me." The boy confessed.
The answer hit the father were it hurt most and two things suddenly became crystal clear. First that his oldest's childhood ended the moment he put his baby brother into his arms, second that pushing all this responsibility onto his oldest, showing his approval of how he handled it and trying to keep Sam protected from all of this, he had given his youngest the impression that he didn't have faith in him.
"No Sammy, I am proud of you. I just wanted to protect you. You and Dean, you mean the world to me and I couldn't be any prouder of you than I am."
"Does that mean you will let me help with the research?" Sam gave him his best puppy dog look.
Unable to resist, John smiled, "Sure squirt, I think you will do a great job helping us out."
"Alright." Sam's eyes gleamed with joy, turning into a bright bluish green in the process.
"Alright what?" Dean entered the room, closely followed by Bobby, without being noticed and heard the last word.
"I get to help with research." His little brother eagerly explained, unable to hold in his enthusiasm and in the process turning back into the ten year old he was supposed to be.
"This will make things so much better. I hate reading all of those dusty books Bobby has. I bet he bought them all when they were still brand new."
Not getting the humor in Dean's statement, the younger boy gave him a serious look, "Dean, that book about the witches is from 1689. I didn't think people could live that long?"
Seeing the totally confused expression on Sam's face, when the response to his question was a loud laugh from both his brother and father and a grumbled protest from the family friend, the two older Winchesters couldn't help but laugh even harder.
"Sammy, Dean was joking." John finally clued his youngest in, "Bobby might look that old but he is really not much older than me."
"Just wait till you guys need my help again, I might think really hard about giving it to you, after all, old men like me are not up to helping guys like you." The other hunter griped but couldn't help the small smile that appeared on his face. The mixture of beyond his age smartness and childlike innocence that Sammy combined was something that drew him in again and again.
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Now that Sam was improving, it was difficult to keep him in bed and even more difficult to keep him from complaining about the catheter. So in order to keep the youngest hunter occupied the two men and Dean took turn playing board games or cards with him. That was until Bobby came back on the fifth day of Sam's hospital bed and put several books on the bedside table.
"What are these?"
The salvage yard owner grinned, "These are a few of the books from my library." He picked the thickest one up and put it on the bed, "This is a book that contains rituals used to summon different spirits and demons. The rituals to destroy the summoned creatures are in the second part of the book." He explained.
"And what am I supposed to do with it?" Sam gave him a wide eyed look.
"Well, the book is in Latin and while most hunters are pretty good at pronouncing the words, there are not a lot that actually understand enough to choose the right rituals. So I've been working on translating this book and putting the summoning rituals with the corresponding banishing or exorcism. The bad thing is I just don't have enough time, so I thought you could help me. I know your Latin is pretty fluent."
"Wow, you really let me do that?" The boy's eyes had gotten even bigger, if that was possible, and there was a gleam of excitement in them.
"Sure, why not? And if you have any trouble, there is a dictionary right here." He held up the second book. "I also brought you paper and pencil so you can start whenever you want."
"Cool!" Sam picked up the book and started flipping through the pages, stopping after a few seconds to read a ritual that had caught his attention. Pulling the note book and pencil Bobby had lain beside him closer, he started writing.
The hunter watched him for a few minutes, amazed by the seriousness with which the youngest Winchester threw himself into the task.
"You gonna be okay here until your dad and Dean get back from breakfast?" He finally asked.
"What? Yeah, sure." The kid didn't even look up and for some reason Bobby wasn't totally convinced he had even heard him.
"Alright, I'll go then." He pointed to the door.
Not getting a response, he grinned and pulled his ball cap deeper in his face. Looking back one final time, he opened the door, almost running over Dean on his way out.
"Hey Bobby, you ready for more 'bored' games?" The fourteen year old smirked, knowing how annoyed the hunter had gotten, when after loosing to Sammy all day, it was John who beat him in the last game.
"Nah, I've got to go, got a job to finish the old Lincoln today. Guy called; he needs it this afternoon to go out of town."
"I bet Sammy and dad will be disappointed."
"Don't think the kid will be interested in playing games today." Bobby said with a secretive tone to his voice.
Hearing the words but not the way they were being said set off an instant alarm in the older brother, "Why, what's wrong with him? Did he have a relapse?"
Clearly upset, he was ready to push his friend to the side but was stopped, when Bobby held on to him, "Sammy is fine. Sorry, didn't mean to scare ya. I gave him something to do. Look!" He pushed the door open and stepped to the side, letting Dean look inside.
A grin appeared at the middle Winchester's face when he saw his kid brother engrossed into a big, old looking book, occasionally writing into a note book he had laying beside it.
There was a look of intense concentration on his face, only intensified by the tip of his tongue sticking out between pressed together lips.
"How did you manage that?"
"Your dad told me he was going to let Sam help with research to get him more familiarized with what you face every day before letting him go on another hunt. So I figured letting him help with translating would be a good start. His Latin is better than that of a lot of scholars I've talked to." Bobby explained.
"What's going on here?" John's voice abruptly made them turn, not having noticed him walk up behind them.
"Bobby found us some reprieve from keeping Sammy entertained." Dean stated, moving enough so his father could peek into the room, while Bobby explained again what he had done.
"You're a genius." John padded the other hunter on the shoulder. He rejoiced, seeing instantly that this was not just something to keep his youngest busy but also way to make him feel useful and needed.
"Yeah, geek boy is in his element. Now we just have to make sure he won't overdo it." Dean laughed. Knowing his baby brother, the kid wouldn't stop to eat or sleep unless he was made to.
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Dean had been right about Sam, it took all three of them to get the ten year old to take breaks. Although he fell asleep over his work very frequently, Sam would wake up and go right back to work. Finally John put his foot down and took the books and notes from his son, letting him have them two hours at a time with several hours of rest in between. He also took them home at night and brought them back in the morning, knowing his baby boy, he would try to work during the night, if he could get his hands on the books.
Sam took the two hour restrictions without much complaining but protested loudly about his dad taking the books home for the night. Not getting any results, he then changed his strategy to whining and using his best puppy dog look, coming dangerously close to breaking his father's resolve. In the end John bent down to kiss his forehead and left without saying another word, leaving a laughing Dean behind.
"Is dad really going to bring the books back tomorrow?" Sam's voice instantly quieted the laughter.
"Sure squirt." Dean reassured him, "He is just worried about you and wants you to get enough sleep tonight."
"But I'm really not tired."
Giving the younger boy a critical look, the older brother couldn't miss the way he was fighting to keep his drooping eyes open. Smiling, he ruffled the kid's dark hair and pushed the button that reclined the head of the bed further.
"Get some sleep bud. You might not be tired, but I am." He turned the light down and took a pillow and blanket, making himself comfortable in the recliner that had become his sleeping place ever since his brother's admission. Giving the younger boy one last glance, he saw that his eyes were closed and his breathing had evened out, indicating he was already asleep, "Knew you would sleep." He whispered before relaxing and closing his eyes, asleep within minutes.
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The next afternoon brought a real surprise for the little family. Sammy had just started back on his translations after taking a "forced" nap, although his protest had really been just a put on to disguise the fact how tired he really was. Thinking about it now, the ten year old had to confess that he needed to find a better method, because by now no one was buying his lines anymore.
Dean was watching an old Bugs Bunny cartoon on TV, while John and Bobby talked about a report they found in the local paper this morning.
"You really think there is something supernatural behind the power outages in the next county?" John questioned his friend.
"Not really sure but it is a possible. I checked into it before I came here and there is a distinct pattern to the outages. They are at the same time every day, lasting exactly four minutes and twenty-one seconds. They checked out everything and it's not people doing it. So what does that leave?"
Although still skeptical, the oldest Winchester agreed, "Maybe you're right but what you gonna do 'bout it? It's not like anybody got hurt."
"Not yet, but I just can't shake that gut feeling I've got." Bobby said, then added, "Look John, I know you don't really want to go on another hunt until Sammy is better and I wouldn't want you to go anyway. That's not why I brought that up, just wanted your opinion. I already left a message for Caleb. He is good at all that technology stuff. He should be back tomorrow. Hopefully he'll be free to go with me."
"Thanks, Bobby, you sure…"
He was interrupted by a knock at the door, followed by Dr. Manheim sticking his head into the room.
"May I come in?"
"Sure doc, what's up?"
John's question came just when Bugs went, "Ah, what's up doc?" eliciting a giggle from Dean and Bobby.
"Sounds like I came at the right time?" The physician grinned.
"So what is up, doc?" This time it was Dean, who asked, still laughing.
"I just got Sammy's latest lab results back and I thought you wanted to know." He looked at the family, seeing the tension that had suddenly appeared in their faces, "His latest urine analysis tells me here is no longer blood in his urine and the Renal Panel and CBC show his kidneys are working well and his hemoglobin is only slightly below normal. And as you know Sammy had a repeat MRI this morning and that was also good news. The tear is visibly sealed and healing."
"Awesome." Dean couldn't contain his excitement.
"I thought so too." Dr. Manheim agreed, "That's why I thought it would be okay, if you want to take him home today already."
John smiled and looked over to his youngest, "Did you hear that Sammy, you get to go home."
"Huh? Yeah, sure." The boy nodded without even looking up from his work.
"What's up with him?" The doc was clearly puzzled, "Doesn't he want to go home?"
Dean grinned, "Sure, but give geek boy over there something he really likes to do and he won't know what's going on around him. Wanna see?" Seeing the nod from the man, he walked over to his brother's bed, "Hey Sammy, you are a baby who sucks it's thumb."
"Sure." Was the only response coming from the younger boy, again he didn't look up.
"Unbelievable, he totally shut everyone out. What is he doing that's so interesting?"
"Translating some old Latin texts." John enlightened him.
For a moment the doctor was unsure what to say. This family was really a mystery to him. A father, who seemed so distant on one hand but fiercely protective on the other, a fourteen year old, who acted more like a father to his little brother and was even more protective than his dad and a little boy, who had an innocence about him that he hardly ever saw in a ten year old but at the same time obviously knew enough Latin, a dead language, to translate old texts. The most normal person was Bobby, whom he knew for several years, but around the Winchesters even he had a "don't mess with my family or you mess with me and you don't want that" aura to him.
"Well, tell him the nurse will be in to take his catheter out in a few minutes, I will get his papers ready and give you instructions before you leave."
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By the time the nurse came in, Bobby and John had left, trying to give the youngest some privacy and thus leaving only Dean with his brother. The older brother could tell from the big eyes and quietness, that Sam was more than a just a little embarrassed by the perspective of having some female remove his catheter. For once he didn't really know what to say, any remarks to make light of the situation, he could think of would go right over Sammy's head. Although way beyond his age in book knowledge than what Dean had been at ten, he was way too innocent to even remotely have any interest in girls. Poor kid probably would be a late bloomer all the way, not that this would ever take away from the way he felt about the little guy.
Taking in the curves of the tall Hispanic nurse, whose name tag identified her as Teresa, only pressing his lips together at the last second was he able to hold back an appreciative whistle. He was sure she wouldn't appreciate it at all and it certainly wouldn't help Sam to get her mad at him. So instead he gave his brother what he hoped was an encouraging look.
"So Sam, you're ready to get rid of this thing?" Teresa asked, giving him a big smile.
The large eyes, almost dark brown and filled with anxiety, gave a louder answer than any words could have. Seemingly ignoring it, she continued, "Alright then, let's do this. See this syringe?" She held the little plastic instrument up, "There is a port on the end of the catheter through which we inserted sterile water into a balloon at the end that's in your bladder to keep it from slipping out. What I'm going to do now is connect the syringe to the port and draw the water out. After I'm done with that, I want you to take a deep breath and let it out again that way you won't feel me pulling out the tube as quite as much."
Sam gave her a nervous nod, his trembling hands getting ready to pull the blanket back, even though he would have much rather disappeared underneath it. Dean, still not sure what to do and hating himself for it, stepped closer, hoping his physical presence would give his little brother the reassurance he didn't seem to be able to give in any other way.
The nurse took a hold of Sam's hands, gently pushing them gently back, "No need to uncover yourself." Smiling at the surprised and confused expression on his face, she lifted the blanket just enough to expose the end of the catheter. Connecting the syringe, she withdrew the fluid, then let her gloved hand slide up the tube as far as it was exposed, before taking a firm hold of it.
"You ready?"
Sam nodded again and drew in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He felt a slight tug and an uncomfortable, but not painful sensation, while he waited for the worst part to come.
"All done!"
"Really?" His voice suddenly light with relief.
"Yep, now let your brother help you to the bathroom and you can get cleaned up and dressed. I'm sure you're ready to leave this joint."
Dean grinned, seeing his kid brother appreciated her easy approach just as much as he did. Although he still felt a little guilty for not being able to give Sammy the safety he would have liked to, he was grateful the power that be had blessed them with Teresa, who knew exactly what the little guy needed.
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Two months later found the Winchesters in Nevada, John working a construction job between hunts and the boys back at school. After its rough beginning, the summer at Bobby's had turned into a real experience or the family. Sam's recovery went off without a hitch, which had been a very unusual experience, but had been mostly due to the constant mother-henning of the two men and Dean.
Per doctor's orders, Sam was to take it easy, not lift heavy, no sports and no running until the final clearance. Due to the mild anemia, Bobby had taken on the task of serving up foods high in iron, much to the dismay of the two older Winchesters but delighting their youngest, who always preferred salads, fruits and vegetables over the high grease fast food on their usual menu. That it frequently included steaks and hamburger was the only redeeming quality to the new way of eating. All were glad though Dr. Manheim hadn't thought it necessary for Sam to keep a renal diet. Because his kidney panels had been normal, he just continued to monitor them weekly initially, then every other month. After giving Sam the okay to go back to normal activity and eating, he recommended to check the lab values every three month for a year, just to be on the save side.
The youngest Winchester continued his work on the translations and also helped with research for some of the hunts Dean, their dad and on occasions Bobby went on. He really appeared in his element and pretty soon knew more about some of the creatures he researched than some of the experienced hunters.
By the time they left the salvage yard, he had gotten through half of the book Bobby had given, promising the hunter he was going to get the rest done by the time they would return for their usual Thanksgiving visit. Although Bobby knew John was going to keep his boys busy with training and other tasks and then there was also school to think about, he had no doubt the kid would keep his promise. It still astonished him how serious the little boy took this task.
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Saturday morning was usually a day to sleep in for the kids and today wasn't any different. John had left for a hunt in one of the neighboring towns last night, so Dean had ordered pizza and they had watched the Fright Night Marathon on TV till early into the morning. When they finally went to sleep Sammy crawled under the blanket with his older brother shortly after Dean turned the light off. The middle Winchester hadn't really been surprised, his kid brother loved those kind of movies but still always suffered from nightmares afterwards. So he let Sam snuggle against him, knowing in the end it would provide both of them with a peaceful night.
Waking up with a yawn the teenager stretched, instantly surprised by the smell of bacon coming from the small kitchen. Getting up, he shuffled to the bathroom and after completing his business, went on into the kitchen.
"Hey Dean, breakfast is almost done."
Sam smiled enthusiastically through the smoke coming from the stove. He grabbed a plate and set it onto the already set table. Sitting down, the older boy eyed the blackened bacon and scrambled eggs and was just about to make a comment about 'burned sacrifices', when he saw the anticipation in his brother's face.
"Awesome, you got up early and made me breakfast. You're the best!" He said instead.
"Yeah, you let me sleep in your bed last night; I know you don't like that too much, so I wanted to do something for you." He walked over to the toaster and grabbed the slices of bread that just popped up.
Dean took a breath of relief; at least the bread was toasted right. Putting some bacon and eggs on his plate, he buttered his toast, then started to eat. As expected, the bacon was burned to a crisp and bitter but knowing he was being watched, he smiled and took a bite of the eggs. At least those were eatable, although dry and slightly burned. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Sam grab the carafe from the coffeemaker and walk towards him, pouring the steaming black liquid into the cup sitting beside him. After putting it back in its place, he sat down and took some food for himself before gulping down half of the glass of milk that was sitting beside his plate.
Looking expectantly at his brother, he asked, "Aren't you gonna drink your coffee?"
Unsure, if he really wanted to try the concoction but not wanting to hurt his brother's feelings, the older Winchester lifted the cup and carefully took a sip. Surprised he took another and another, then set the cup down again.
"Wow, this is better than Dad's coffee."
"So you like it?"
"Like it? I love it." Dean responded.
"I bought it for you and dad with the money I made mowing Mrs. Miller's lawn. I thought you would like something special."
"What about something special?" The voice asking the question came from the door and made both boys jump up, Dean almost spilling his coffee in the process.
"Whoa dad, don't do that."
"Hey, gotta keep you on your toes, don't I?" John asked with a smirk, "So what's special?"
"Sammy bought some special coffee for us with the money he earned mowing lawn." Dean answered.
"You did? Well then let me have some." He smiled, making his way over to the table and sitting down.
Eagerly the youngest Winchester climbed on a chair and pulled a cup off the upper cup board shelf. Jumping down, he went to the coffee maker and filled it with the hot beverage. Carefully he carried it over to the table, where John received it just as carefully.
He watched with rising anxiety as the hunter lifted the cup and took a large drink. Letting the flavor develop in his mouth before swallowing, he appreciatively smacked his lips.
"This is awesome. Never had anything like it before."
"You really like it?"
"I really like it."
"And so do I squirt." Dean added.
A huge smile appeared on Sam's face as he sat down again, hiding the blush appearing on his face behind his glass of milk.
John exchanged a fast glance with his oldest, then turned back to Sam, "There is something else I liked." Waiting until his son set the glass down, he continued with a serious face, "I know I was too tough on you, we talked about that already. I do have to make a good hunter out of you though, because that's the only way to protect you."
Seeing the little boy's expression, he hurried to say, "Sammy, the research you did for the hunt I just came from was spot on. I know I didn't believe you that James McCullen had demonic connections while he was alive because other than the one summoning text in his first published book there was no proof for it. Yet all the time while I dug the grave and then salted and burned the bones, I just couldn't get rid of this gut feeling. So I recited the banishing ritual you insisted I would take with me."
"What happened?" Dean knew his dad wouldn't just tell this story, if everything would have been okay.
"I was halfway through, when the earth started to shake and flames started to shoot out of the grave. I was lucky I was standing outside the salt circle, because everything inside it got burned to a crisp. Believe me; I never finished reading a ritual this fast. In the end there was a loud explosion that threw me back and knocked me out."
"Wow, you're okay?" Dean asked with worry in his voice.
"Yeah, thanks to Sammy I just got a slight bump on the back of my head; nothing to worry about." John said, then turned back to his youngest, "You know that you saved my life, don't you? I'm really proud of you."
Before John knew it, Sam ran around the table and jumped onto his lap, throwing his arms around his neck. Surprised by the show of love, John suddenly realized how much his stubborn and rebellious little boy must have craved to hear those words from him. Not just as a reassurance, like when he told him in the hospital, but actually as a response to something he did. Wrapping his arms around the small body, he leaned into the embrace, savoring the moment, while his eyes locked with Dean's. And for just that short time in the middle of the way to small kitchen, in a run down little apartment; their messed up world was perfect and bright.
FIN
So what you think? Let me know, because reviews make my day. And go on and check the rest of the "Winchester Single Shots" out. Hugs, Vonnie