Pages of a Life.

A Teen!chester story

Disclaimer: Nope not mine, sigh, just checked again and nope nothing. No money has passed through the empty coffers either.

Author's Note: Sam is 18 and Dean is 22, set before the big fight and Sam goes to Stanford.

S—D

CHAPTER THREE

John's hands trembled so much he could hardly make out the last few words, all he kept reading was the word family. 'Ah damn it Sammy.'

'You okay dad?' Dean placed a strong hand on his father's shoulder and squeezed it, 'you feelin' okay?'

'Yeah I'm fine son, what are you doing?'

'Thought that I'd go and see if Sharon could rustle us up some coffee,' Dean grinned, 'and see if I can get a bed bath.'

'You're incorrigible Dean.' John laughed but sobered immediately when he heard a noise coming from the other bed, 'Sammy?'

Once again father and brother stood around their youngest's bed watching and waiting for further signs of waking. Sam wrinkled his nose and the tip of his tongue flicked out slightly testing the dryness of his lips.

'Sammy?' John cupped Sam's cheek in his hand and gently ran the pad of his thumb over the high cheekbone, 'come on son wake up for me.'

S—D

Two days later:

Two glazed and slightly unfocused eyes fluttered open and stared at the white ceiling above. Blinking a few times helped to clear his sight a little but the edges were still fuzzy and out of focus. After a few moments he tried to roll his head, experimentally to one side but his stiff neck refused to co-operate, taking a deep breath this time he tried to roll it to his right side, this time a little more successfully. Running the tip of his tongue over his lips, he cringed at the dryness and the lingering taste of dried blood.

Blinking a few times again, he tried to focus on the other people in the room, two seemed familiar and one was wearing a white lab coat. A frown appeared on his forehead as his sight started to grey out again.

Moving his attention downward he focussed on the fingers of his right hand, lifting his hand enough to see his fingers he tried flexing them. Wincing with the pain after not using them for so long, his joints felt stiff and heavy. He tried to lift his left hand but it felt numb and heavy. Like someone had placed a weight down his entire left arm and then removed it from the rest of his body.

Tears of frustration pooled in his eyes and he mutely stared at the three men on the other side of the room, they could have been on the other side of the moon for him to reach them. Panic started to set in, his breathing hitched and blood pressure rose exponentially as his body refused to co-operate with his mind.

S—D

Dean listened to Doc Milne and his father talking about Sam's prognosis but he wasn't taking in anything, idly he let his gaze wander over to his brother's bed, a frown forming on his face as he watched the slight movements. He scrubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands before looking once again, though this time he heard the faint whimper as well.

Pushing past the older men, Dean hurried over to his brother's bed, 'hey Sammy.' He said quietly; leaning down he took Sam's hand in his own and gently ran his fingers over Sam's forehead, 'nice to see ya awake.'

Sam stared up at the familiar face hovering over him, he wasn't sure who it was but he felt so safe and calm he felt himself relax slightly. He tried to speak but his mouth refused to work for him, his lower lip trembled and tears started to trickle down his face.

'Hey, hey Sammy it's okay.' Dean spoke softly, soothingly and continued his gentle ministrations, 'it's okay I'm here.'

'Dean?' John turned in time to hear and see Dean comforting Sam, 'Sammy?'

'He's awake dad.' Dean's cracking voice filled the void between them but he didn't look over his shoulder to look at his father.

'So our patient finally decided to wake up?' Doctor Mitch Milne joined Dean and John at Sam's bedside, 'let's see how you're doing.'

Sam panicked at the sight of the two other men and turned an imploring stare to the first one, the one who knew he was safe with.

'Sh it's okay Sammy, it's just dad and the doctor.' Dean continued to run his fingers over Sam's forehead and then card them through the wisps of fringe, 'I'm right here with ya little bro.'

'Sam can you move your legs for me?' Doctor Milne asked lightly touching Sam's left foot, 'this one first.'

'Easy does it Sammy, you can do it.' Dean coached his terrified little brother. Sam tried to lift his foot, the strain taking his breath away, he looked up to his brother who shook his head no.

'That's fine Sam what about your right foot?' The doctor continued with the exam, smiling slightly when he saw Sam lift his right foot slightly and move his toes. 'Excellent Sam.'

'Way to go bro.' Dean encouraged Sam and glanced over at their still silent father. John visibly shook himself out of his reverie and gave his sons a shaky smile.

'That's excellent Sam, well done.' He smiled and carefully placed his hand on top of Sam's head away from the bandages and tubes.

'Okay Sam can you lift your left arm and hand for me? Wriggle your fingers?' The doc continued keeping his professional mask on when nothing happened, 'that's great what about your right hand?'

Sam frowned and stared at his right hand, lifting it slightly off the bed he wriggled his fingers and then let it drop back down, exhaustion taking over. He looked up at the loving face above him searching the bright green eyes for signs of approval and recognition. 'Way to go Sammy.' Dean enthused squeezing Sam's hand right hand, 'you're doing great.'

'I am so proud of you son.' John said hoarsely bending down to brush a kiss on Sam's forehead, 'I am so proud of you.'

Sam blinked at his father and brother, tears trickled down his face as he gave them a tremulous smile before falling into a deep dreamless sleep.

S—D

A week later:

Sam glared at his therapist and refused to budge, his silence making more of a statement than any yelling he may have done. Dean strolled into his brother's new room on the rehab floor, humming softly, feeling the best he felt for a long time he was staying with his brother at night but also going to the apartment to rest and shower.

'So Sammy what did the nice therapist do now?' Dean asked as he sat on the edge of Sam's bed and ran his hand down the side of his brother's face affectionately.

'N-Nuthin'.' Sam pushed the words out, frustration oozing from his entire being.

'Sammy what is it?' Dean pushed but kept his tone light, neutral sounding.

'H-Hurts.' Sam pouted.

'It's supposed to hurt a little Doofus, that's how you know the therapy is working.' Dean smiled and then glanced up at the irritable looking therapist and narrowed his stare, his eyes cold, 'what did you do to him?'

'Your brother can't be coddled or he won't get anywhere.' The woman hissed angrily, 'he won't try.'

'Sammy's the strongest person I know if he's not trying it's because he can't or it hurts just too damn much.'

'Then he has to try harder.'

'Think that might be enough for today.' Dean announced effectively dismissing the woman. He heard her 'humph' from behind and then the clatter of her shoes as she stormed away. 'Guess we showed her huh Sammy?'

Sam gave his brother a lopsided grin and then winced again, 'h-h-urts.'

'Where Sammy?' Dean watched as Sam lifted a shaking right hand up to point at his head. 'h-h-hurts.'

'You got a headache?' Dean cupped Sam's cheek with a comforting hand for a second and then went to find the nurse.

'D-d-d-on't-t g-g-go.' Sam whispered wretchedly he hated feeling so weak and out of control.

'I won't.' Dean pressed the call button and returned to his brother's side.

S—D

John took over from Bobby in the hunt for Sam's assailant when the other hunter had to return home to follow up another lead. Joshua sighed as he managed to keep them from ripping each other a new one before Bobby left. So far, they discovered that it was a demonic attack on the youngest Winchester, the woman who pushed Sam finally found in an alley with her throat slashed and traces of sulphur all around her body but other than that had no connection to him at all.

That was where the trail ended, Bobby wanted to go and contact a psychic he knows Pamela Barnes, he was sure that she may have a way of finding out more. Reluctantly Pastor Jim also left returning to Blue Earth, though he did promise to stay in touch and that when Sam was ready to travel he'd have their beds waiting for both boys.

S—D

'D-De ... s-s-stay.' Sam pushed the words out, his fingers wrapped around Dean's wrist as he stared up at the doctor defiantly, 'n-no ... g-g-g-go.'

'Okay Sam, I just need you to calm down.' Doctor Milne smiled reassuringly at his favourite patient, 'Dean's not going anywhere.'

'Th-thanks.' Sam sighed and then rested back against his pillows but never loosened his grip on Dean's wrist.

'I hear you've been giving the therapists a hard time.' Sam shrugged his good shoulder and gave the doctor a sheepish look, 'that's okay, but we do have to get the therapy working, we need to get your muscles moving so that they don't atrophy.'

'What do you suggest doc?' Dean asked seeing the stubbornness setting in Sam's jaw line.

'Well what if you help him?' Mitch looked at the two brothers, 'Dean he listens to you, and I have a feeling that you have already done training with him before?'

'Yeah kind of.' Dean said without elaborating.

'Fine, I can get the physiotherapist to give you a list of exercises Sam has to do three times a day to start off with, there is also speech therapy ... I'm not going to lie to you boys, Sam has a long road ahead of him just to regain most of his mobility to start with let alone his fine motor skills. Small steps but you will get there if you're willing to work hard.'

'We can do that doc,' Dean grinned and then looked down at the relieved look on Sam's face, 'for sure.'

'Okay well, I think if Sam can show his determination in working hard and sticking with the regime then I think he'll be right to go home and to continue his treatments as an outpatient.'

'H-Home?' Sam gasped giving Dean's wrist a small squeeze, 'h-home.'

S—D

Sam pulled his backpack closer to him, with his right hand and then rummaged through it, a look of worry formed quickly on his face, as he frantically searched it as well as he could with just one hand.

'Lose something Sammy?' Dean asked as he strutted into the room carrying Sam's discharge papers.

'N-no.' Sam sighed, 'i-i-it's ... 'kay.'

'So you ready to blow this Popsicle stand?' Dean rubbed his hands together, 'the old man is just getting your meds...'

'D-Da-Dad ... h-h-here?' Sam blanched and dropped his gaze to the floor.

'Hey, hey Sammy look at me.' Dean crouched down in front of his baby brother and made him look up, tilting his chin with fingertips, 'Sammy dad's not ashamed of you.'

'N-no I-I'm d-d-disa-ppoint-m-ment.' Sam finally managed to get the words out, drool slipping from the paralysed side of his mouth.

Dean reached over and tenderly wiped it with a tissue and smiled softly, 'you will never be a disappointment dad loves you.'

'Wh-Why l-l-look me ...n-no h-hunt.' Sam cried his breath hitching slightly.

'Sammy?' John stood in the doorway, 'you are not a disappointment to me son, you never have been and you never will be.' He smiled deeply and moved to crouch in front of Sam, 'I love you Sammy I know we have butted heads in the past and probably will sooner than later but I will never stop loving you or your brother.'

'C-Can't-t h-h-hun-t n-no more.'

'You will son, it's just going to take time.' John gathered Sam into a warm hug and felt his son slowly relax into the embrace, 'your mom would be so proud of you Sammy, of both her boys.'

'D-Da?' Sam blinked and pushed away from his dad slightly, 'M-mom?'

'How about we get you out of here?' John blinked back his own tears as he stood and helped Sam into the waiting wheelchair, 'get you set up and have something special for dinner?'

'P-P-Pizza?' Sam glanced at his father with a hopeful look and flashed his deep dimples.

'Pizza it is.' John agreed as he gathered Sam's bags, slipping Sam's journal back into his backpack, 'ready?'

'Let's go,' Dean pushed Sam out of the door with a flourish, 'time to spring ya from this joint.'

S—D

One Month Later:

The soft sobbing broke through John's dozing, he glanced around the small apartment, and Dean was still at work so that means: Sammy?

'Sammy you okay son?' he called out softly so as not to startle his often volatile youngest. Over the last month since Sam's release from the hospital they have had a few rocky patches, with Sam's mounting frustration at not being able to do what he wants when he wants and the lack of privacy he now had, both John and Dean had to learn to reign in their own instinctive tempers to help Sam through the tantrums and tears.

'M'fine-fine.' Sam ground out refusing to look up at his father, not wanting to see the disappointment he knew would be there in his father's eyes.

'Sammy what is it?' John sat on the edge of the bed, took a deep breath, and then tenderly rolled Sam over onto his back, 'hey there you are.'

'W-Why D-Da?' Sam wept picking at his numb hand with his good hand.

'Hey now ... nuff of that.' John tugged Sam's good hand away and wrapped his own fingers around it, 'what's the tears about?'

'J-just ... l-lone.' Sam sighed.

John sat quiet for a moment, he remembered Sam's journal entries where he talked about feeling so alone, 'Sammy you have me and Dean, and Bobby, pastor Jim, Caleb and Josh we're all here for you, especially Dean.'

'I-I kn-know.'

'So what's the real problem?'

'N-No ... no one f-f-from sch-school c-came ...'

'Ah Sam.' John ran his fingers through his hair this one was more Dean's area, 'they're not worth worrying bout Sammy, I promise you, you're worth more than all of them put together.'

'D-Da? Wh-why m-me?' Sam asked tearfully.

'We're still working on it, it does look like the person who pushed you was possessed.'

'Wh-why?'

'Dunno yet, but I don't want you to worry bout that, you just concentrate on getting better.'

'D-Da?'

'Yeah Sammy?'

'You, you st-st-stayin'?'

'I'm staying, I'm not going anywhere Sammy.'

'Th-thanks D-Da.' Sam smiled softly and pulled himself up with his good hand, 'w-wanna h-help m-me ex-ex-exerci-se?'

'Me? Sure you don't wanna wait for Dean?'

'N-no ... you D-Da.' Sam pushed the words out and smiled at his dad. For the first time in a long time Sam felt like he was a full on member of the family again.

S—D

Dean kicked his work boots off and stood in the doorway trying to work out where his dad and brother were, when he heard his dad's laughter and soft stuttered chuckles from Sam. Curiosity getting the better of him, he went into Sam's room and stopped 'dead'. On the floor in front of him was Sam and their father working on loosening up Sammy's long legs. 'So whatcha up to?' Dean finally got out, trying hard to stifle his rising giggles at the exasperated look on John's face.

'H-Hey D-De.' Sam greeted his brother as his father pushed his leg in, managing once again to hit Sam's ticklish zone. 'D-Da.' He laughed.

'Sorry Sammy, hey Dean how was work?'

'Good, considering I had to give my notice.'

'W-why?' Sam frowned.

'Coz we're heading to Blue Earth tomorrow Doofus.' Dean laughed, 'remember?'

'Oh-oh ye-yeah.' Sammy blushed slightly, 'th-thanks D-Da.'

'Time for your massage Sammy, so who do you want?' John asked with a heavy sigh and waited for Sam to pick Dean over him.

Dean, who saw the change in his father's demeanour winked at his younger brother. 'Well dunno bout you guys but I reek, I'm going to have a shower, and you'll just have to put up with dad massaging the life outta ya Sammy.'

John beamed at the smile he got from Sammy, slightly lopsided but a genuinely happy one.

S—D

Sam stretched and adjusted the pillow behind his head once again, his long leg stretched out on the backseat of the impala. He grinned happily watching his brother drive, the classic rock blaring from the speakers and Dean's head moving in time as he sang along with his favourite songs.

Just ahead of them, was their dad and Joshua in the massive black truck of John's. Sam ran his fingers over the leather cover of his journal and thought about his dad again. John had changed so much since the accident, it was like he finally got Sam. his smile faltered slightly with the thought of his father reading his journal, 'nah that couldn't be right if dad did then he'd be ripping me to shreds all the way to Pastor Jim's and then back again.' Sam shook his head again and slowly opened the leather-bound book to the last entry he had made the day before. Sam had finally managed to catch up with his entries since the accident, the last one announcing their impending journey back to Blue Earth.

New Entry in the Journal of Sam Winchester:

August 2nd 2001

Dale finally brought Monica over last night before we started to pack up. She was like someone I ... she was like a stranger to me. she kept staring at my arm and leg like I was a freak. She said that just after the accident she started to date Skye Seavers from the basketball team. She said that she didn't want to upset me so she just stayed way. Dale apologised for his sister and left saying see ya to Dean. Man that was so humiliating. She couldn't even look at me sitting in our living room, I wanted to ask if I had a wart on my nose or some shit like that. Fuck I hate this, I hate being a freak and now I look like one too.

August 3rd 2001

This feels better, we're home again, in the impala with Dean at the wheel and dad ahead of us in the monster-truck. Dean said that Monica wasn't worth another thought and would probably end up pregnant and at the other end of a shotgun wedding. He's such a dork!

Dad is so incredible lately, yeah we still fight but nothing like we used to, I'm wondering when I'm gonna wake up and find out that it's all one big bad dream. I can't help feeling like dad managed to read all of my journal, he seems to be able to know just what I like and stuff, but how can he? Anyway if he did then he'd be screaming all of the way to P. Jim's, especially when ... yeah maybe I should put a padlock on this just in case.

I had the weirdest dream last night and a killer headache this morning, how can I tell Dean? I saw him get ripped by a werewolf, it was just him and dad, but I could see it all so I dunno where I was. It was just a dream, wasn't it?

S—D

Dean glanced in the rear view mirror and smiled softly, Sam was asleep his head tilted back and a thin line of drool trickled from the still paralysed end of his mouth. Sam was able to walk with just a cane now, and had almost full control of his bad arm. Dean was so proud of his geeky younger brother, he studied the exercises and what did what to where and then did them diligently every day up to five times a day. His speech therapy was slower going but it was getting there. The doctors were guarded in their prognosis, the only thing that they seemed to agree on was the fact that they couldn't agree on anything. So now they were headed to Blue Earth Minnesota to stay with Pastor Jim Murphy, deep down Dean knew that their dad was ready to head off, the hunt was literally calling him, but hey John lasted longer than anyone thought he would.

Sam's TBI still needed constant checking by doctors but not as much as before, and his records were already with the new Neurologist in Blue Earth, a doctor Kimberly Duck. Anyone who is a head doctor with the surname Duck was alright in Dean's book.

A soft snore brought Dean's attention back to the road and to studying Sam in the rear view mirror. He reached over and turned the volume down in deference to the headache he knew Sam had. He could read all the little tells now, when his brother had a nightmare, or a headache, his leg and or arm hurt, and even when Sam can't get the right words out, Dean knew them all.

John's signal made Dean put all of his attention back to the road and driving, his dad must have found them somewhere to stay for the night, nervously Dean followed the black beast in front, determined to keep going if it wasn't suitable for Sam's needs.

They finally pulled into a nice looking family motel with three neon stars under the name of New Heaven Motel.

While he waited for his dad to get their rooms Dean leant over the back of the bench seat and gently shook Sam's shoulder, 'hey dude wakey, wakey.'

'Hunh?' Sam blinked and rolled his eyes in annoyance before letting them slide shut again.

'Nope not gonna carry ya into the room, wake up Sammy boy, we're staying the night here.' Dean shook him a little longer but without any more force than necessary.

'De?' Sam glared at his brother and then noticed the surroundings outside the car, 'm-m-mote-el?'

'Yeah dude we're staying here tonight and then we'll be at Pastor Jim's tomorrow.' Dean grinned, following his father around to the back carpark.

John came over to the impala with two key cards in his hand, 'we've got adjacent rooms, me and Josh will take fourteen and you two can have sixteen.'

'Which floor dad?' Dean asked as he got out and languidly stretched, in an almost feline way.

'Third but there's a lift, so why don't you start up with Sam? Me and Josh can bring the bags.'

'Thanks dad.' Dean opened the backdoor and waited patiently for Sam to position himself first, lately Sammy's independent streak was making a comeback.

John watched as his baby boy managed to extricate himself from the backseat of the impala before hurrying back to unpack the truck with Josh. The big man seemingly engrossed in a call on his cell, gesturing with his free hand to emphasise his points.

'So you ready Sammy?' Dean asked holding the cane steady for his brother.

'Yeah.' Sam nodded and tried to swipe at the dribble of drool still adhered to his chin; wordlessly Dean reached over and wiped it away with a tissue and then patted Sam's shoulder before grabbing Sam's backpack. 'let's get inside.'

S—D

The room was as surprising as the exterior of the motel, with large queen beds, crisp white sheets and thick pillows, a colour TV positioned at the foot of both beds on a cabinet, a small kitchenette with a bar fridge and coffee making facilities nestled in one corner with the bathroom between the sleeping area and kitchenette. An overstuffed sofa and armchairs with a coffee table finished the room off nicely.

'Wo-Wow.' Sam exclaimed as he sank down on his bed gratefully, 'this is nice. Is dad okay?'

S—D

Extract from the Journal of Sam Winchester:

November 12th 2001

Dean's asleep in his bed at P. Jim's, I'm pretending to rest so I can watch over him. dad brought him back with huge claw marks, they look so deep and angry. All I could think about was my dream. What does it all mean?

U. Bobby rang Josh when we were on the way here, and he went off for a while. Now he's back and he wants dad to go with him. they're not talking but I think that they are hiding something. Even P. Jim and Dean won't tell me.

I hate this, I hate them treating me like a little kid!

My headaches are getting worse, especially after my dreams, but I can't tell Dean or dad.

November 20th 2001

Dad and Josh went to meet up with U. Bobby, I listened to them talking when they thought I was asleep. they said that they know why I got pushed something to do with the demon that killed mom. It was trying to make me do something, dunno what but dad got this weird look on his face. He looks at me different again, just like he used to.

I guess it was too good to be true for him to keep up the loving father act.

Nah I guess he still loves me, maybe not as much as Dean and maybe not as much now coz I still can't train or hunt but I think he does love me a little.

S—D

Two Years Later:

A tall thin young man, with a slight limp boarded the bus in the dark of the night. Grateful for the darkness hiding his tears and heaving chest; he knew that his brother was still there watching him board the bus.

He turned awkwardly and stared at the dark silhouetted car, he lifted a shaking hand and then with his backpack clutched tightly boarded the bus and looked towards his future, leaving a shattered family and past behind.

S—D

John sat on the edge of his bed, his glass of whiskey on the floor by his feet, forgotten in the aftermath of his binging. The motel room was silent, only the ghost voices of his argument with his baby son echoed in his mind, the room remained silent.

How did it happen? Why?

With a heaving sob he opened the soft leather bound book on his lap, he found it on Sam's pillow after Dean had run off after his runaway sibling. A short note scribbled in Sam's spidery handwriting, hey dad thought you might like to read the rest of my journal. I could never prove it one way or the other if you read it back then. Kind of hope you did. Your loving son always Sam.

S—D

Final Extract from the First Journal of Sam Winchester:

May 30th 2003

I feel so sick, I got the letter of acceptance from Stanford even after everything they still want me. AND I got a full ride, fan-fucking-tastic, so how do I tell Dean and Dad? They are both gonna be pissed, but what do I do?

I can't tell em that it still hurts to run, that my back feels like it's on fire or that my shoulder and arm ache in the cold. How can I tell Dean and dad that my headaches never went away? That it's not the fact that I don't have my mind on the job, it's that I can hardly hold my head up sometimes. Or my balance goes on me, nah better this way I can still feel like I got a chance at some sort of life.

Safer this way too, safer for them coz they don't have to worry bout me, I won't be a liability on the hunt anymore.

I might walk properly most of the time unless I get tired, I might be able to speak better unless I get tired, but it's not enough, not out there. What if the demon comes back and does something to dad or Dean to get me to use something I don't know what.

I had another dream the other night, both Dean and dad nearly died in a car accident and I was driving. I so freaked out, I don't want to leave, but what else can I do?

Gotta keep them safe, gotta keep Deanie safe.

Sorry Dad, sorry Dean. Love you both.