Rocky Horizon

Summary: John goes away for a few days and the younger Winchesters are left to their own devices in the wilderness. Sam gets himself hurt and Dean has to look after him.

A/N: Dean is 17 and Sam is 13

Both Winchesters were presentable, fed and awake and standing at the bottom of a rather large rocky outcrop that looked out over a lake. The lake, like most in the great outdoors was quite deep and was quite large in width and length and the trees on the far side seemed rather small. The sun was shining brightly, but the heat and humidity were bearable and the surface of the lake was reflecting the surrounding scenery with almost mirror-like clarity.

Sam stood still regarding the outcrop warily; Dean was a little way ahead of him already, eager as always. Sam would not go quite so far as to say he was dreading the climb, but it was not something he was really looking forward to. He would have rather gone for a swim or a hike through the forest, but Dean had been adamant about conquering the outcrop before all else. Sam knew he had no chance of persuading his brother otherwise and had agreed with little complaint on his part.

"Hurry up!" Dean shouted at Sam who was still dawdling a little way below him. He suspected his brother was reluctant about the climb, but he had not put up that much of a fight so Dean had not felt any guilt about carrying on with his plan. Sam jogged to catch up with his brother and easily followed his route up the outcrop. It was not a real climb, but at the same time it was not a walk either.

Sam had now caught up with Dean and they kept a decent pace. There was no rush. They had the whole day ahead of them and Dean planned to have been up and down by lunch and have a quick swim before it got too dark. He had a pack of s'mores in his bag and was looking forward to seeing Sam's ecstatic expression almost as much as he was looking forward to eating them.

Dean climbed over a particularly awkward angled jut of rock and turned to give Sam a hand. He clearly did not need it, and that gave Dean a little jolt. Sam was not a little kid any more, not really. He did not need Dean's help as much as he used to. The reminder of that gave Dean a bizarre feeling in his stomach. Contrary to the occasional complaint he would make about having to help his kid brother, Dean actually enjoyed it. He enjoyed the fact that Sam needed him, not that he would ever admit it. But he pushed the feeling aside.

In fifteen minutes they were already more than halfway up and had cleared the tops of most of the trees at around the halfway point. The climb was slightly harder and at a steeper angle the higher they got, but none of it was remotely close to vertical and it was nothing either of them could not manage with one arm tied behind their back. There was a slight sheen of sweat over both Winchesters as the sun had risen higher in the sky, heated the air considerably and made their clothes stick to their skin.

The peak of the outcrop was in sight, and both Winchesters picked up their pace, eager to see the view they had earned. When they finally reached it, Sam and Dean both grinned. The view was worth the effort. They could see for miles totally unobstructed, without any civilisation north, west or east of them. Although the road could be seen, a distant grey wound in the sea of green, to the south of them.

Dean and Sam both moved closer to the edge, appreciating the view. Despite all their visits into the wilderness, they were rarely given a chance to take a breath and appreciate the beauty of it all without their dad forcing another survival technique or finding another, harder obstacle for them to overcome.

Sam shared a small smile with Dean; the climb had not been as bad as he thought, and the view was stunning and definitely worth it. Dean took another step closer to the edge where he leaned out to see if he could spot their cabin, while Sam was far more interested in seeing the entire lake beneath him like a huge, darkened mirror.

Sam still could not quite see the shore closer to him, so he shuffled even closer to the edge. He was not close enough to run the risk of toppling over and plunging to his death, but he was not comfortable getting much closer anyway, in case a rogue gust of wind might make him lose his balance and fall the considerable distance to the ground. Just a little closer wouldn't hurt though, Sam thought edging forward, crouching low to keep his centre of balance as close to the ground as possible.

Dean heard a sickening crack to his right and turned in time to hear Sam's shout and watch his little brother and the section of outcrop he had been perched on plummet downwards. Dean reached for his brother in vain, but he was too far away and much too late. He heard a crack and a splash and prayed that Sam had ended up in the water and not on the ground below, although Dean could barely even process the thought.

He moved to the edge but carefully, the last thing Sam needed was for him to come falling down after him. He tried to keep calm, but panic was scratching away at him from the inside and his stomach relaxed somewhat as he did not see his brother's motionless form, broken below him on the shore and only saw the outcrop shattered and half in the lake, which meant Sam could have only fallen in the water. Dean prayed it was deep enough to cushion his fall and began a frantic climb down the outcrop and lost his footing more than once in his haste.

He jumped six feet from the bottom and raced around to the shore, paling when he saw a body on the surface of the water.

"Dean!" Sam croaked, trying to stay afloat and was trying to move his right arm as little as possible. Dean was pretty sure he had fallen on his side and one of Sam's ribs was probably cracked. While Sam was outwardly crying Dean was holding back unwarranted tears .

"Dean!" Sam croaked again, his voice raspy from choking on the cold water, his tears stinging.

"Sam!" Dean shouted, still a little way away from his brother.

"Dean, it hurts," Sam rasped, not caring how pathetic it sounded. He just wanted the pain to stop. He just wanted his brother.

Dean grabbed Sam's right arm, as it was the closest to him. He immediately realised was a mistake when Sam screamed, and he dropped the limb.

Dean was treading water by this point. "Tell me what hurts, Sammy," he asked, his panic painfully obvious.

"My right arm and my ribs. Dean…" Sam choked out, still reeling from Dean touching his injured arm.

Dean immediately wrapped his arms under Sam's, careful not to jar Sam's right arm or touch any of his ribs and began towing him towards the shore.

Once Dean regained his footing, he picked Sam up out of the water, carrying him the only way he knew how without moving his arms or putting pressure on his ribs. Dean walked quickly back to their cabin, trying to Sam as little as possible. He kept glancing at his brother's pained face.

The fifteen minutes it took Dean to get back to the cabin were some of the most horrendous of his life. He kicked open the cabin door and lay his brother down on the couch as gently as possible, but Sam still moaned in pain as his torso moved and his injured arm jolted.

Watching his brother in agony while he could do very little to help him made Dean want to tear out his hair and punch something. He quickly ransacked the cupboards, knocking cans and boxes onto the counter below with abandon until he finally spotted some ibuprofen and scanning the back of the packet, popped out the highest dose you could give in one go and poured Sam a glass of water.

He sat beside Sam who looked pale and shaken and was bleeding from a cut on his forehead Dean had no idea how he had procured. Dean gave Sam the pain killers and the water, giving Sam a warning glare when he tried to sit up.

"No Sammy, don't move. Take the pain killers and I'm going to call Dad," Dean said sternly, although the tone was ruined by the scared look in his eyes.

He moved away from Sam who dutifully swallowed the tablet with not much but a wince and a pained gasp as he shifted his weight to place the glass on the table to the side of him. Dean rooted through his bag until he found the cell their dad had deposited in his care in case something should go wrong.

He stepped outside to make the call and sent silent thanks to God that there was signal on the phone.

Dean dialled his dad. He listened to the ringing and prayed that his father might pick up for once. His heart skipped a beat when his father's voice rang in his ears, but it was just his answer machine greeting informing him he shouldn't have this number and should leave a message and John would get back to him. Dean's grip on the phone was intense and his knuckles were white as he heard the beep telling him to start his message.

"Dad? It's Dean. Sam's hurt. He fell and I think he broke some bones. We need you to come back as soon as possible, I don't know what to do," Dean confessed, sounding and feeling both considerably younger and afraid and generally ill-equipped to deal with the situation and older and burdened with guilt and responsibility.

He ended the message there and went back inside the cabin.

"Dad's on his way here right now, Sammy. He'll be here soon and then we can take you to the hospital and get you fixed up, alright? For now just stay still and tell me if the pain gets bad again," he told Sam gently.

He was not quite sure what he would do if the pain came back badly. Sam would not be able to take any more tablets in under four hours without overdosing, but he needn't have worried because nearly half an hour later, Sam was gently snoring. Dean had not let go of his right hand since he had sat down and he was as wired as an electric fence.

He jumped when the phone vibrated in his other hand, and he quickly answered father's deep tones washed over him, making him feel both safer and nervous as he demanded to know what had happened and if Sam was alright.

"He's sleeping now Dad. I gave him some painkillers, so he should be okay for a little while," he replied.

John informed his son that he would be there in about three hours, as he floored the accelerator and the Impala jumped forward as if she could sense one of the boys were in danger. John actually intended to be at his youngest son's side in an hour in a half.

Dean put the phone on the table near the sofa and allowed a little of the tension to ease out of his shoulders. Dad would be here soon. He would take Sam to the hospital and everything would be fine apart from the absolute rage Dad was going to have at him once Sam was on the mend. Dean shook his head to push away the thoughts. No, all that mattered was that Sam would get better. And he deserved more than a good ripping in to. Sam was his responsibility and he had let something like this happen because he was careless. Dean ran a hand through his hair and pulled it a little in frustration.

It was going to be a long wait until Dad arrived and Dean was already beating himself up about what had happened to Sam on his watch and highly doubted there was anything his dad could say to regret his actions any more than he already did, to make him hate himself a little more.

A/N:

I've always had this head canon that Dean's fear of flying stemmed from a fear of falling because of something traumatic that happened to Sam as a kid.