CHAPTER 1
Guilt welt up inside me as I ran his fingers through my little brothers hair; it was almost too overwhelming for me. There was my little Sammy, ribs broken, concussion, too many stitches in so many places, only one eye…the list went on and on. Sam was too young for this kind of pain, too young for this kind of agony that will lay before him when he finally wake up. Sammy was only 8 years old, I was 12, and we were in a hospital while our 'father' was off hunting. I had told Dad about what happened at the elementary school that Sam attended, but he was quick to dismiss and told me that he was busy with the hunt and would come later when the time was right.
Fury welled up in me, at the conversation and it was the first time I thought that maybe Dad was not a superhero, a person to look up too. He was someone who was far to obsessed to care for his own sons. After a half an hour of fuming I decided to ignore the anger and focused on Sam…Sam needed me; he needed all of my attention, not part of it. I had scooted him slightly so there was enough room for me to slip into the bed and sleep with him. We never, in all the years, have ever slept in another room from the other, sometimes not even apart from the same bed.
I knew a time was coming when Sam and I would be too old to sleep in the same bed, but I did not care, Sam was mine to watch out for. More and more often I found that I would have a hard time sleeping without Sammy there; I felt like at any moment that either Sam would disappear or get attacked if I was not there to hold him…keep him close. Our relationship was strange, I admit, but there was nothing in this sorry ass world without Sam there and I would not go on living without him. It sounded selfless, very beautiful that a boy would do anything for his kid bother, but rather it was selfish. I was selfish, as, I was really protecting myself, saving myself, through Sam.
Now Sam was in this hospital bed because I took my eyes off him for a second; all it took was that one second for a ghost of the school to take apart Sammy like he was nothing. A tear ran down my face as I moved closer to the small boy next to me…I wanted to turn back time and make sure this never would have happened. I was just thinking about Sammy and I fell asleep, nightmares plaguing about the possibility that Sam could die.
7 hours later
I awoke to see Sammy starting at me with curious eyes; I stared back; Sammy, no matter the age would never stop looking innocent. I grinned at him and he grinned back; I could tell he was confused and in slight pain, I tried not to grimace at the patch over his left eye. I pulled a hand up to caress his face lovingly…I was not an emotional person, that was Sammy's gig, but when it came to my little brother I could not hold back. Sam was my weakness and strength rolled up into one, he was my light, my reason, my everything and emotions ran high when I was with him.
I never cried, but seeing Sam like this broke me, no one can look at this small boy and not cry at the battered body. Sam held a broken hand up to his face, to his eye and almost panicked if I wasn't there to whisper soothing words.
"Dean," his soft panicked voice called to me, "Where's Dad, Dee?" I almost sobbed at the question. I found it hard to tell Sam the truth, that Dad didn't care bout them, that he only cared about the 'job'. I sucked up my emotions and smiled softly, "Dad is gone for some food and to wash up, Sammy. He will be back later, kiddo. " I lied for the first time since Santa Clause came up.
He smiled through tired eyes and finally closed his eyes, drifting into a dreamless sleep. I leaned back, pulling Sam till he was almost on top of me, head buried in my chest. I closed my eyes in anger, frustration, sadness and pain at the predicament that John Winchester had left him. Dean would need to think soon of a way to get out of here, he did not have any insurance and since they were found alone in a motel room, and their guardian had yet to show up, I was afraid that social services would get involved. That would not happen, families were separated that way; and I would not leave Sammy's side.
I grabbed the worn cell phone from the table beside the bed and dialed Pasture Jim Murphy's house phone. Pasture Jim would help them and take care of them…but just in case, he would also call Bobby to make sure that they got out of here fast.
It took one hour for Bobby to get here and two hours for Pasture Jim; they stared in horror when they saw the state of my little Sammy that could make everyone fall in love with him. Sam had a gift to charm everyone into loving him the moment they met, Jim and Bobby were no exception to this rule. Jim grabbed a seat and brought it next to Bobby who was already there.
"Where is your father Dean?" he asked, confusion set in. I shrugged my shoulders, not caring about what that bastard did anymore, ""Probably still hunting, he wouldn't come when I called. Who needs him any way?" Both adults stared at each other in shock, they both knew John could be a hard ass and kind of obsessed but never thought that he would completely dismiss Sammy's injuries like that. I could though, I figured out earlier that Dad would think of Sammy as reliability with the new handicap in the one eye; he considered Sam dead and in that case, myself, since he knew I would not leave Sam.
"Ok, so here is what we will do," said Jim who got over the horrifying news of there once friend, "You can stay with me since Bobby will be hunting, and I will enroll you in a school system and you will have a real home, none of those lousy motels." I almost sobbed in relief, I was wondering about what would happen to us as I refused to think of Dad as any kind of guardian.
I hoped that now everything will work out.
A/N: How is it? Too mushy?? Respond please!!