Author: Ashley
Author Note: Yet another Sam limpness story! Sam is sixteen, and Dean twenty. Also, my medical knowledge goes as far as standard first aid and CPR. For all you in the medical profession, please just grind your teeth together and bear with my ignorance!
Disclaimer: I own nothing…I'm just a poor little college girl! ; )
Summary: Sam is attacked when walking home from school, but his attackers learn quickly that screwing with a Winchester is never a good idea. Protective Dean and John, Hurt but Tough Sam.
Rating: K
Oh, and this is a long one-shot!!
Wrong Fight to Pick
Sam Winchester kicked a stone on the ground glumly as he walked down the school's front steps. It was the last day of school for the kids of Raveshaw High, and it was clear that he was the only person unhappy that summer break had started.
Dean and John were probably already loading up the impala and truck…ready to start yet another summer of endless shitty motels and exhausting hunts. When Sam had hesitantly suggested that they maybe hunt out of the small house that they were renting, and that he return to Raveshaw High in the fall a big blow out had occurred.
That had been a week ago, and Sam still only spoke to his father when it was absolutely necessary. Sighing heavily, he walked down the residential sidewalk as slowly as possible, plastering on a fake smile and waving to his classmates as he went.
"Have fun on your road trip, you lucky bastard! See you in September." Joshua Stewart yelled, waving energetically before hopping into a car waiting for him.
Sam waved back, unable to stop the bitter laugh that escaped his throat. He had told his classmates that he was going on a family vacation for the entire summer, that way none of them would wonder where he had disappeared to.
Swinging his backpack lazily, Sam made his way through the trim subdivision, to the more rundown area of town. His father didn't exactly have the funds to rent a place in the area that all of his friends lived in; but he didn't really care all that much- as long as he had an actual home to go to he was happy. Not stupid shabby motels that contained weird smells and mystery spots on the bedding.
Dean's probably freaking, Sam thought, a genuine smile flitting across his face. The two older Winchester's were uncomfortable with him walking these particular streets alone…and they always picked him up from school, but Sam had insisted on walking home on the last day of classes- it wasn't like he couldn't defend himself and he wanted to stall leaving as long as possible.
Sam was lost in his thoughts on where their first hunt would lead them when a large blue van slowed down beside him. Looking over cautiously, Sam watched with mounting unease when the tinted window was rolled down, and he stayed a safe distance away from the vehicle.
A gruff man looked out at him, his bearded face peppered with flecks of dark gray. "Hey kid, you wouldn't know where Burnaby drive was would ya?"
"Yeah," Sam answered, jerking his thumb in the direction he had just come, "Last intersection you came through, make a left there and then another right- you can't miss it."
"Thanks dude." The man said, an odd smile forming on his face.
Sam felt the hair on the back of his neck prickle, and when he saw the strange old man look over his shoulder, he realized his mistake. He didn't have a chance to spin around before someone had grabbed him by the arms and pinned them to his sides.
Struggling in the unidentified person's grasp, Sam snarled, "Let me go!" The person that had grabbed him grunted with the effort of holding him still.
The man in the van got out and moved over to the pair, obviously about to help throw the struggling teenager into the back of the van. Sam willed himself to calm down and think rationally as the man approached, he stopped struggling and glared furiously. Wait for your best opening to attack, he thought to himself, his fathers training exercises ringing in his ears.
The old man was less than two feet away when Sam struck. Leaning into the body of the man that held him, he used the momentum and brought out his right leg swiftly, kicking the bastard straight across the face. The man howled as his nose broke, and he fell to the ground cursing. The man holding Sam loosened his grip in surprise, and the Winchester quickly slipped out of his hands before spinning around and punching him across his jaw bone.
Sam backed away quickly, his fists raised and his eyes narrowed.
"Fucking brat broke my nose! Get him, Jake!"
The man named Jake stopped rubbing his sore jaw and nodded obediently before advancing towards Sam once again. It was clear that the two had not counted on him putting up a fight.
"Stay back." Sam warned, trying to be braver than he felt. I've dealt with wendigos, ghosts, and more supernatural beings than I can even name, these idiots should be a walk in the park, he tried to reassure himself, but he didn't have Dean or his dad watching his back, and the man currently walking towards him was taller than himself and as bulky as his father. Stay calm…stay focused!
Jake lunged forward, and Sam stepped out of the way quickly. The bigger man stumbled into the brick wall of the boarded up store and turned around, his eyes flashing with frustration.
Sam felt his heart begin to beat more rapidly than before when he saw a glint of silver; Jake had pulled out a small switchblade from his pocket and was waving it in his direction.
"Hurry up, you idiot…before someone sees us!" The old man cursed loudly. He had risen to his feet, and was still holding his dripping nose. It was obvious that he was the brains of the operation, wherein his partner was the brawns.
"I'm trying, Louie! C'mere kid, before I get angry and slice you up so bad your own mother won't recognize you." Jake growled, a small smirk forming on his face.
"Yeah, okay. I'll just come willingly and let you do whatever the hell it is you want to do with me." Sam answered back sarcastically, some of his brother's personality leaking out unintentionally. When all else fails, act like Dean. His brother would never let these assholes scare him, and neither would Sam.
Jake shrugged casually, "Have it your way then, you little punk."
Sam ignored the man and thought through his options. He considered screaming for help, but knew that there was no point. Nobody in this neighborhood got involved with other people's business…most of them were afraid of retaliation. In fact, he thought painfully, that was exactly why his dad had chosen this particular area to live in.
His cell phone was also useless; it was in his bag, which currently lay discarded by the man named Louie.
Stall them, you're already late getting home, Dean and Dad will come looking for you soon. Sam determined that this was his best option. He was still too far away from home to make a break for it, especially considering that these men had a vehicle. With any luck, he'd be able to disable both of the men himself. Yeah, with a lot of luck, he thought with a snort.
Jake ran forward again, cursing loudly when the young Winchester easily evaded him for the second time. Sam however, had accidentally moved closer to Louie when he dodged, and the old man immediately reached out and grabbed his arm. "Don't touch me!" He yelled out.
Louie was a lot smaller than his partner, and definitely more brittle and vulnerable, but he held onto Sam's wrist tightly. He ignored the teenagers yell and tried to pull him closer.
"That was a bad idea." Sam growled, pulling on his restrained arm and swinging around, his free fist flew through the air with all the strength he could muster and he struck the man across the temple.
A surprised gasp escaped Louie's lips before his grip on Sam slackened and he fell to the ground, unconscious before he hit the pavement. "I told you not to touch me." He panted out between heavy breaths.
Bet dad and Dean would be proud of that hit, Sam mused as he observed the limp man. He backed away from Louie and focused his attention on the most immediate threat. Jake was staring from Sam to his partner, a look of disbelief coupled with fury and hate in his eyes.
"You son of a bitch! You'll pay for that!" Jake roared and lunged forward once again.
Sam reacted immediately, knowing that he had to disarm the furious man as quickly as possible. He quickly kicked out, hitting the hand that held the switchblade. The move was effective enough, the knife dropped away and fell to the ground harmlessly, but Sam put too much force into his kick and lost his balance.
He fell to the ground, and before he could scramble back up Jake was on top of him. Sam didn't have time to react when the first punch caught him in the cheek, which was quickly followed by a second and third.
Sam groaned as his head was snapped back and forth with the vicious blows, and he felt blood pooling in his mouth and dripping down his face as the beating got more intense. The teenager tried to wriggle away from Jake, but the man had him pinned down with his legs.
His vision was starting to blacken when Jake finally stopped, and Sam felt himself being hauled to his feet. A choked gasp escaped his throat when his attacker punched him hard in the stomach. He spat the blood in his mouth onto the ground and felt himself being half dragged on his shaky legs.
Opening his eyes, Sam struggled to ignore the nausea that swept through him, and he began to panic when he realized that Jake was dragging him towards the back of the van. Don't let him put you in there; if he puts you in there you'll never see dad or Dean again! He screamed to himself silently.
The thought of never seeing his father or his brother ever again caused Sam to react violently. Using the burst of adrenaline that had suddenly come forth, he flailed wildly in his captors grasp and somehow managed to slip free. He stumbled into a run immediately, only making it a few feet before he was tackled from behind.
Sam grimaced when his hands and chin scraped against the pavement, and he let out a pained yelp when Jake flipped him around, picked him up by his shirt and slammed him into the brick wall.
"You know what kid? You aren't fucking worth it! I don't care how cute Louie thinks you are…you are too much of a pain in the ass. I'm going to gut you, you little fuckhead!"
Cute? Who's cute? Sam thought dazedly as he stared into Jake's red face, his eyes slightly out of focus. He didn't have time to ponder Jake's words, for it had suddenly become very hard to breath, and he quickly realized that he was being choked.
Sam winced as the back of his skull was ground into the rough brick, he gasped and his hands flew to the meaty hand that was cutting off his airway. This can't be the way it ends, he thought to himself with disbelief. Dad would be so disappointed if he knew I let a stupid human get the drop on me…
Jake suddenly released Sam, and slid out of view. The young Winchester wondered if maybe, just maybe,the man had decided to get his partner and leave him be. This small hope was short lived when Jake slid back into his line of vision, the switchblade glinting in the sunlight.
Sam had been slowly sliding down the length of the wall when Jake had let go of him, and he grunted in pain when he was forced to stand straight again; his vision swimming badly. "When my dad and brother find you, you're dead." He whispered hoarsely, determined not to show any fear. If I die, I'll die like a true Winchester, he thought quietly, straight backed and proud. Just like Dean and dad would want.
Jake smiled, showing his yellowed teeth to Sam. "Sure they will kid, sure they will." He replied with obvious disbelief.
Sam didn't even get a warning before the knife was suddenly plunged into his stomach, and he couldn't stop his whimper of pain. He had been injured plenty of times on hunts, but this white hot pain was the worse he'd ever felt. He gasped when the blade was ripped out of his stomach, and his vision tunneled dangerously before he heard the sweetest sound he could ever remember hearing.
The rumble of his big brother's Impala.
Despite the mind numbing pain, Sam smirked at Jake and whispered, "You're dead." He felt the man release him, obviously intent on making a run for it, and he sank down to the ground slowly. Sam tried desperately to stay conscious as he watched the Impala, followed closely by a large black truck, pull up along the sidewalk with a loud screech.
Not Long Before
Dean Winchester paced in front of his beloved car, glancing at his watch every few seconds before shooting his father a worried look. Sam should've been home over twenty minutes ago, and he had a bad feeling that something was seriously wrong.
"Dad, I've tried calling his cell phone three times and it keeps going to voicemail. I know he's pissed that we're moving again but I'm telling you, something isn't right." Dean finally said, his eyes silently pleading.
"Dean…" John started, but was cut off.
"I'm serious dad, please we're already packed and ready to go. Lets just drive in the direction of his school and pick him." Dean suggested.
John rubbed his stubble and sighed. Despite how calm he might look in comparison to his oldest son, he was just as worried, and he knew not to doubt Dean's instincts when it came to his little brother. "Alright son, if it'll make you feel better. Let's haul ass." No point in tell him that it'll make me feel better too.
Dean nodded and immediately hopped into the Impala, eager to get going. You'd better be alright Sam; I'll so kick your ass if you aren't.
John climbed into the cab of his truck and the two vehicles roared down the empty road and away from the house they had occupied for the past three months. They had only made it two blocks when they saw the blue van pulled along the side of the street.
Dean swore and sped up, his heart hammering against his ribcage when he recognized his little brother slumped against a wall. A man lay on the sidewalk a little ways away, and another man was bolting for the beat up van, whose back doors were wide open. "Sammy…" He breathed as he slammed on the brakes.
Behind the Impala, John had shifted the truck into park, and he launched out of his seat quickly when he saw his youngest son sitting against the wall, his long legs stretched out in front of him. It took the father mere seconds to realize something very bad had happened. "Dean! Go to your brother!" He ordered sharply.
Dean, who had just leapt out of the Impala, didn't need any such order, for he was already making a beeline for his injured sibling. "SAM!" He called out, skidding to a halt beside his brother and dropping to his knees.
John meanwhile, ran to the van and ripped open the driver's side door. He reached in and grabbed the man inside, who was desperately trying to restart the resisting engine. John knew without a doubt that this man had hurt his son, and there was no way that he was going to let the fucker get away with it.
Jake yelped when he was yanked viciously out his seat and slammed into the unforgiving pavement. He looked up and into the furious dark eyes of John Winchester, and he knew without a doubt that he had made a grave mistake in choosing Sam as his next victim.
"I'm going to kill you." John growled, kicking the man in the ribs as hard as possible. A grim smile formed on his face when he felt a rib give way to his boot. "No one, no one hurts my son and gets away with it!" He hissed, picking the man up by his lapels and shoving him into the side of the van.
Jake struggled in the angry father's grasp, but it was to no avail- and the criminal found himself wishing that he had not dropped his knife in the passenger's seat. He groaned in pain when John lashed out with his free fist over and over again. I'm so fucked, he thought to himself, stupid brat wasn't lying.
John ignored the pain that was forming in his knuckles as he repeatedly punched the bastard in the face.
Meanwhile, Dean was examining his brother's injuries and trying desperately to get Sam to say something. The teenagers green eyes were open, but they were glassy and staring right through his big brother. "Sammy, c'mon dude say something to me…please." He said for the second time, real fear in his eyes as he looked into his brothers damaged face.
Sam blinked slowly, his unfocused gaze resting on Dean. "Dean…k-knew you'd c-come." He whispered, wincing slightly as he joked, "…took y-you long enough…"
"Yeah well I stopped at a few bars on the way here…and grabbed a burger." Dean retorted back playfully, grateful that Sam was lucid enough to joke with him, before his face grew serious again. He observed his brothers bloody clothes, and swallowed worriedly when he spied a bloody rip in the side of his stomach.
Sam moaned when Dean pulled up his shirt, and he heard his brother's sharp intake of breath when he observed the stab wound. "S' okay Dean…it b-barely hurts…" He said quietly as he tried to reassure his older brother.
Dean simply shook his head and pulled off the black Led Zeppelin shirt he was wearing. He balled the cloth up, muttered an advanced apology to Sam, and put pressure on the badly bleeding wound.
Sam hissed, his body bucking involuntarily before he sank back against the wall.
Dean squeezed his shoulder apologetically, before turning away from him and yelling to his father, his voice slightly panicked, "Dad! He's been stabbed, we need an ambulance…it's bleeding pretty badly."
Dean's voice filtered through John's ears, and he stopped pummeling the nearly unconscious man. He backed off and watched as Jake crumpled to the ground and didn't move. Hurrying towards his boys, John spared a glance at the other man that lay in a heap on the ground, and he wondered briefly if he had been trying to help his son or had been in on it with the other man.
John squatted down beside his boys just as the sound of sirens permeated the air; a hidden observer had obviously plucked up the courage to call for help. "Sam, you with me buddy?" He asked softly as he held one of the scraped hands in his own calloused one.
Sam coughed before starting to nod his head. He stopped this motion abruptly when pain erupted through his skull, and settled on a weak 'yes' instead. "S-sorry dad…o-one distracted m-me from the v-van…the o-other snuck u-up from be-behind…" He whispered quietly, his glassy eyes looking downwards.
John closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath before replying, "Don't apologize Sam… this isn't your fault, you got that?"
"Y-yeah…" Sam mumbled, not looking fully convinced.
"I mean it Sammy." John persisted, his eyes roaming the boy's body and taking in all of his injuries, his hatred for the men that had done this to his son growing rapidly. Sam's face was already starting to swell rapidly with bruising, an ugly hand mark was forming around his neck and his hair was matted with blood. Then there was of course the stab wound that Dean was applying pressure to.
The sirens grew closer, and the two older Winchesters willed them to arrive faster. Sam kept nodding his head as he tried to stay conscious, and John frowned with worry. "Hey Sammy, did you take out that one guy all one your own?" He asked as tried to keep him awake.
Sam grinned weakly, his voice held a small hint of pride, "I b-broke the fucker's n-nose…and k-knocked him o-out when he g-grabbed me. Just l-like you a-and Dean taught m-me…"
"That's my boy," Dean spoke up, a shaky smile dawning on his worried face, "…no one fucks with the Winchesters!"
"You did good, Sam. I'm proud of you." John said quietly, his words genuine. His son smiled a little between hitching breaths, all thoughts of the fight they had had about moving forgotten.
"I'm…g-glad you guys c-came…" Sam whispered through his bloody lips.
"Did doubt that we would?" John asked, already knowing the answer.
"N-no…" Sam replied with a smile, "…you g-guys…a-always c-come…"
"Damn straight we do." Dean said, holding his brother's hand tighter. I swear I won't let anybody ever touch you again Sammy. Never ever again!
"'m tired…" Sam whispered, his eyes slowly closing, he slumped forwards into his brother as he lost his battle to stay conscious.
"SAM!" Dean panicked, only calming slightly when his father reassured him that Sam was still breathing.
"I think he's passed out from shock." John managed to say before he was pulled away from Sam, a paramedic suddenly taking his place beside his son. Huh, I didn't even hear them walk up, he thought to himself dazedly. Later on, he wouldn't even remember telling the paramedics Sam's name, age and that he had no allergies.
Dean resisted being torn away from his brother, only cooperating when his father gripped him firmly by the shoulders and muttered quietly, "Let them help him, son." He obeyed hesitantly, watching as Sam was stabilized. He wanted to puke when the paramedics shoved a tube down his throat, and he flinched when Sam made no response to the sudden intrusion.
"What that for, he's breathing on his own…isn't he?" John asked hoarsely, and Dean couldn't remember a time when his father had sounded so vulnerable.
One of the paramedics smiled reassuringly, "He is breathing on his own sir, but his throat is swelling rapidly and it may cut off his windpipe, it's just a precaution for now."
"We need to get moving Julie, the puncture wound is still bleeding…we may be looking at a nicked vein, maybe an artery or even his liver." The other paramedic suddenly spoke, his voice gruff with years of experience.
Julie turned away from John and began to wheel the stretcher to the back of the ambulance, her older partner right behind her.
"We'll be taking him to Saint Andrews…you know where that is?" Julie asked after Sam was loaded into the back of the ambulance, still oblivious to what was going on around him.
John nodded mutely, but Dean spoke angrily, "I'm going with him!" His eyes narrowed as he prepared to fight with the paramedic.
Julie shook her head, "Sorry sir, I need the room to care for him properly…you will have to meet us there, don't worry…Sam's in good hands." She didn't give Dean a chance to respond before jumping into the ambulance and slamming the doors shut, she didn't have time to hack it out with the young man.
Dean cursed loudly as the ambulance pulled away, and he made a beeline for the Impala. Stupid bitch, she better hope that I don't run into her again, he seethed, not caring that he was being unfair to the woman.
It wasn't until Dean had almost reached the car that he noticed there were several cruisers and two more ambulances, whose paramedics were currently tending to the men that had hurt his baby brother.
He marched towards the closest man, the one Sam had dropped on his own, and kicked him sharply in the ribs. The paramedics tending to the old man glared up at Dean and asked what the hell he was doing. He ignored them and was about to kick the prick right in the face when his father pulled him back.
"Dean!" John hissed, "Don't son, we need to get to Sammy. The last thing your brother needs is you getting arrested."
Dean pulled away from his father but decided to listen to reason. He wrenched open his car door and threw himself into the seat, pulling onto the road and stepping on the gas as he tore in the direction of the hospital. The Impala groaned at the abuse, but he didn't really care.
John had followed suit in the truck, ignoring the police officer that had walked up to him, obviously intent on getting the story on what had happened. "Hang in there Sammy…" He muttered under his breath as he followed the Impala.
Saint Andrews Hospital
Dean and John sat slumped in the barren OR waiting room. They had arrived at the hospital an hour ago, only to be told that Sam was being taken up to surgery to repair a damaged artery. A doctor had come out some time ago and listed all of the youngest Winchesters injuries before hurrying away again.
Two broken ribs…
Badly swollen throat…
Three broken knuckles…
A nicked artery that had been the source of major blood loss…
A small gash on the back of his head that had required five stitches…
A mild concussion that would be monitored carefully for any signs of complication…
And of course, many scrapes from being thrown around, and plenty of bruises that mottled Sam's arms, stomach and face. Dean shuddered involuntarily as he thought about the long list of injuries.
"He's going to be okay Dean…Sam's tough." John suddenly spoke, his voice tired with emotion.
Dean glanced over at his dad and watched quietly as the man rubbed his bruising knuckles. "Yeah…" He finally replied quietly, his voice uncertain but tinged with hope.
Footsteps caused both Winchesters to look up anxiously, both hoping that it was Sammy's surgeon with some good news. They were sadly disappointed when they saw that it was two police officers. Might as well get it over with, John thought heavily…he never spoke to police officers unless it was absolutely necessary, what with the insurance fraud and all.
"Sir, your son was the one that brought in here after being attacked by two men, right?" One inquired.
John nodded and stood up wearily; he shook the officer's hand and introduced himself as Jonathan Gates- the current name on their insurance card. Dean remained in his seat, deciding to let his father deal with the cops on his own…he just wasn't up to talking right now.
"I'm detective Todd Maslow, and this is my partner…Jodie Gordon."
"I suppose you want to know what happened." John stated, running a hand through his disheveled hair.
"If you could please just tell us anything you can remember, Mr. Gates." Jodie said gently.
John recounted the events in detail, watching as the police officers recorded the information down into their memo books. "I don't want you questioning my son…he's been through enough. I don't want his name or picture put in the newspapers either." John finally ended firmly, that was the last thing they needed.
Todd nodded his head in understanding and said, "We'll keep the media away and there shouldn't be any need to question Sam, we've got his list of injuries from the doctors, and both of those men were already wanted for serious crimes- crimes that will be enough to put them away for a long time."
"What'd they do?" Dean suddenly spoke up, his curiosity getting the better of him.
The detectives glanced at each other before Jodie spoke hesitatingly, "Perhaps you should sit down, Mr. Gates."
John frowned and shook his head, "No, just tell us."
Todd sighed, "The two men that attacked your son…their names are Louie Ciani and Jacob Cordina…both men are wanted in the state of Alabama for kidnapping, sexual assaulting and murdering two sixteen year old boys. They've been running from the law for nearly two months now…they were actually on America's Most Wanted."
John swayed slightly at the news, feeling sick when he realized what could have happened to his boy. "Oh god…" He breathed before dropping back into his chair. Beside John, Dean has his hands curled into fists and was swearing under his breath.
"They won't be able to hurt anyone else." Jodie reassured John and Dean, sympathy in her voice, "…and there will be no charges pressed against you for attacking Jacob Cordina."
John snorted at the thought of that perverted asshole trying to sue him, but said nothing to the officers.
The detectives stayed for a few minutes longer, to make sure that both men were going to be alright and to get a bit more information. Neither John nor Dean acknowledged them when they finally left the room.
The two sat in strained silence, both of them stewing in their anger. "I wish we could go and kill them, right now." Dean suddenly growled, leaping from his seat and pacing the length of the room, his eyes burning with hatred.
"Me too Dean," John grunted, "…but we need to focus on Sammy and what he needs."
Dean nodded in agreement, knowing that going away for two counts of murder wouldn't benefit his little brother. "People are fucking crazy…you know that dad? Demons, poltergeists, evil demonic creatures…I get them, they got a certain pattern…but humans? They are seriously twisted."
John had no chance to answer, for Sam's surgeon had just entered the room. His heart sped up considerably as he waited for the doctor to speak.
"I do believe that I never introduced myself to you earlier. I'm Dr. Faith Evan's and I was the one that repaired the tear in Samuel's artery."
"It's Sam, how is he?" Dean demanded to know. Please be okay…please say he's okay…
The doctor smiled reassuringly and answered, "My team was able to repair the artery without any complications. Sam did lose a lot of blood but more is being transfused back into his system right now. The swelling in his throat has already gone down considerably; we took him off the ventilator and replaced it with a nasal canola as soon as he was out of the OR."
"…is he going to be okay?" John asked hesitatingly, his rough face hopeful.
"Barring complications…such as a problem with his head injury or infection from the stab wound, I can confidently say that Sam should make a full recovery. He will be closely monitored over the next week- head injuries are nothing to be taken lightly."
John and Dean nodded in agreement, both knowing just how dangerous a knock to the head could be. "If everything goes smoothly…how long before he can go home?" Dean asked, his voice slightly calmer than before.
"We won't know that for a little while yet. His recovery will be a one step at a time process."
"I don't care how long it takes, as long as he gets better." John spoke firmly. I'll rent us a damn motel room for the next month if I have to.
Dean silently agreed with his father before asking when they could see Sam.
"He's in recovery right now, which is off limits to visitors…but he will be moved to his own room in about an hour, I'll send a nurse for you when you can see him, alright?" Dr. Evans answered.
Both men were unsatisfied with this answer, but nodded in defeat. They watched as the doctor left the room, both muttering a quiet thanks to her before she disappeared around the corner.
"Told you he'd be alright." John said, a relieved breath escaping through his lips. Thank god.
Dean smiled shakily and nodded in reply, unsure of whether he could speak without his voice cracking with emotion.
The two stared at the clock quietly, watching as the minutes slowly ticked by.
One Hour Later
Dean and John walked ahead of the nurse that had led them to Sam's floor, the two of them entering the teen's room hurriedly. Dean automatically went to the right side of the bed and John to the left.
The nurse, whose nametag read Kelly, caught up with them and said, "He's still a little sedated from the surgery, so he may be a little loopy when he's awake. If you need anything please page the nurse's station."
The two nodded in response before turning their attention on Sam. Dean took his brothers hand, holding it tightly as he observed the boys face. Sam still looked pretty roughed up, but not as bad as he had before. "Hey geek boy, time to wake up for your incredibly handsome big brother." He said softly.
"Your not han'sm…." The slurred reply came almost immediately, "jus del'sinal…"
Dean grinned as Sam's eyes fluttered open slowly. "We thought you were sleeping kiddo, and I am so not delusional."
'"I was…until y'ur annoying voice woke m'up…" Sam teased, his words coming out a little clearer, "…where's dad?"
"Right here son." John spoke up, placing a hand on his sons shoulder affectionately. "You gave us quite a scare today Sammy. Are you in any pain?"
Sam could feel the concern rolling off of both his brother and dad, and he turned his head slowly away from Dean so that he could look at his dad. "'m okay…jus kinda numb…'m sorry for worrying you guys…"
"It's okay Sammy; we're both just glad that you're okay." Dean answered, John nodded in complete agreement.
Neither of them believed that Sam was completely out of pain, his swollen face was purple and green and it had to hurt like a bitch. They said nothing however, knowing that as a Winchester, Sam was accustomed to playing down injuries and pain levels…he had learned from Dean and John themselves after all.
"What happ'nd?" Sam asked, forcing his eyes to stay open.
"You don't remember being attacked?" John asked worriedly, wondering if the head injury had caused Sam to lose some of his memory.
"I remem'br what happ'nd before you guys got there…that's it though…" Sam answered tiredly.
"Well, I ran to you…you were pretty out of it. Dad beat the shit out of the guy that knifed you…I won't be surprised if the asshole falls into a coma…wouldn't be sad about it either…" Dean answered grimly.
Sam smiled blearily, "I tol' him…jus' before you came…that you guys would kill 'im…he didn't believe me." He blinked drowsily as he tried to focus on his brother's face.
Dean rubbed at his eyes furiously, and managed to mutter, "Guess they both learned an important lesson didn't they Sammy? Never screw with a Winchester."
Sam simply smiled in response, too tired to form words.
"Go to sleep son, you need to rest." John said softly, a lump in his throat forming at the absolute faith his youngest son had in him and Dean.
Sam listened to his father and allowed his eyes to close; he was asleep almost instantly.
"Are we going to tell him what those pricks did to those other kids?" Dean asked once he knew for sure that Sam was fast asleep, "Because as soon as he's more aware he's going to start asking questions."
John ran a hand through Sam's shaggy hair and answered quietly, "We'll tell him eventually Dean…when he's ready to know. For now I just want him to concentrate on getting better, that's all that matters right now. We'll get him through it eventually."
Dean rubbed his chin before nodding. He stroked the side of his brother's hand and knew that his father was right. The Winchester family could get through anything that was thrown their way…so long as they stuck together like the family they were.
Finis
Huh…I don't even know what to think of this one…I was just trying kill some hours before tonight's episode. It's probably a little too fast paced but…I dunno lol…
I had a dream last night where Sam said "I broke the fuckers nose" (that's all I remember of it lol) …and I wanted to put it in some sort of story lol, and I also wanted to incorporate what Dean said in The Bender's…about how he thought humans were crazy ha ha.
Anyways, enough of my ramblings…I hope you enjoyed it!
