I know, it's been too long! I'm so sorry, but life and illness and holidays got in the way. Hoepfully i'll be able to post quite a bit these next two weeks because it's Easter holidays. And i hope this chapter is okay :)
Dean had expected a fight with Sammy to keep him lying down and still, but his baby brother was pale and exhausted, listless against the sheets when they brought him back to his room. As soon as his bed was slotted back into place, he pushed a hand through the bars at the side and stroked a finger gently down Sammy's arm until he could grasp his little fingers. There was hardly a reaction until Sam twitched against his hand.
"De?" Sam's little voice was thick and slurred, and Dean shot a look at the nurse who was looking over his little brothers IV.
"What did you give him?" She looked over sharply, a different nurse to the one he had shouted at in the hallway, but she seemed slightly off put as he glared at her.
"Something to help with his pain and something to keep him sleepy for a while." He gave her a raised eyebrow, lips set into a thin line.
"He's had.." She paused to check his file, causing Dean to glare at her again until Caleb chuckled and Bobby nudged him in warning. "Ten mil of codeine and some post-procedural general anaesthetic. It's mild, and it will wear off in about an hour." Dean nodded, unhappy that such strong pain killers had been given to his baby brother. Sammy was usually silly on children's paracetamol, never mind adult medication. Instead of saying anything though, he went back to stroking his fingers up the inside of Sam's arm, resting his fingers over the pulse point in his wrist to measure his vitals before moving on again. Everything else dropped away as he focused on his little brother; although he noticed when the nurse left, nothing else mattered. Sam was twitching every so often, eyes open a little but glassy.
"Hey Sam?" Dean whispered, changing tactics in order to get his brother a little more awake. He stood, leaning over the edge of the bars, and carded his fingers through Sammy's hair.
"Sammy." He whispered again, mouth close to Sam's ears. Slowly, Sam turned his head slightly in his direction and whimpered. Luckily, it had been an hour and the nurse had told them it would be about that time he would be coming down from the meds but also allowed to move a little again.
"Dean?" His baby brother choked out, little hand searching out across the sheets in search for Dean's shirt to cling to, just like he did every time he got sick. Ignoring the warning look Bobby shot him, Dean found the release for the side bars on the bed and lowered them, climbing in gently beside Sammy so that he could be a little closer.
"Careful of the wires, Deano." Caleb muttered to him, eyes focused on Sam's now open eyes. They were still glassy, but he was obviously a little more awake as he whimpered again and leaned towards the warmth of his brothers body. Dean just gave him a withering look before shifting as close as he could to Sam. He knew not to move the area around his hips too much, but didn't resist lying down a little flatter so Sam could pillow his head slightly against his shoulder.
"He's cold." Dean told Bobby, thrusting his chin towards the door. Bobby huffed a sigh but got up anyway to go and harass a nurse for another blanket.
"Wh'r's daddy?" Sam mumbled, curving slightly into Dean's body in exhaustion.
"He's on his way, little ace." Dean smiled into Sam's hair, knowing that as much as Sammy liked being called ace, like Caleb called Dean ace, he hated being called little.
"'M not, li'l." Sam managed to slur out before shutting his eyes against and leaning more heavily into Dean's side. Wrapping an arm around his baby brother, Dean blinked away the film of tears gathering in his eyes and began to hum to him under his breath. Caleb appeared at his elbow a moment later with Bobby, placing the blanket over both of them, letting them both get the rest they needed after such a long day.
One that was no where near over yet.
Once Dean had dropped off into a fitful sleep beside Sammy on the bed, Caleb and Bobby stepped out of the room, both running exhausted and frustrated hands down their face.
"What do we do?" Caleb asked quietly, leaning against the wall beside the door, Bobby taking up post opposite him.
"Not much we can do but wait for John and Jim to get here, providing he finds him. Knowing Winchester luck, it's gonna be what the doc's think it is, so we gotta keep an eye on Dean as well as Sam. Boy doesn't cope half as well as he has us believing'." Caleb nodded his agreement and let himself lean his entire weight against the wall, exhausted even though it was only about mid-afternoon, early evening at the latest.
"How about I go pick us up some food, and you try and get ahold of Jim again? Meet back here in half an hour tops?" He suggests, receiving a sigh and a nod in return from Bobby before they head of together towards the entrance.
"Sam ain't gonna eat anything but chicken and stars or rice and tomato soup." Bobby called over his shoulder, gaining a chuckle from Caleb.
"Oh, I know." He replied, both thinking about the last time they had been with a sick Sam, although it had only been the flu. Caleb had tried to feed Sam a grilled cheese, only to have him throw it up all over the kitchen table and Dean shout at them, and then ignore them for the rest of the day. Caleb disappeared into the parking lot, jingling his keys in his hand as Bobby dug in his pockets for change.
The phone rang and rang, long enough for Bobby to be almost putting the receiver back down before Jims voice echoed down the line.
"Hello?" The Pastor answered, sounding just about as tired as Bobby felt.
"Jim, it's Bobby. Just calling to see if you'd gotten to John yet?"
"His car is in the motel parking lot I just pulled into, so I'd say so." Bobby could hear Jim getting out of the car and making his way over to whichever room John Winchester was staying in this time.
"Hey, Bobby. Stay on the line, you can help me explain this to him so we can get a fire under his idiotic behind and back towards his kids."
"Yeah, course Jim." Bobby replied, feeding more coins into the phone. He waited as Jim hummed to himself, held his breath when the sound of locks being undone echoed along the line.
"Jim, what the hell you doing here?" Pastor Jims sigh as John used the word 'hell' made Bobby twist the corner of his mouth up in a smile, before focusing back on the conversation.
"Everyone has been trying to get to you, John. Sam is sick." This time, Johns sigh made it's way to Bobby's ears, and he had an urge to break the mans nose.
"Look, if this is about what Dean has been saying-"
"It is, and it isn't. Now, are you going to let me in or not?"
John Winchester, for all of his hardass hunter attitude, is a scared man with two young children and a dead wife. That has never been as blatantly obvious as it becomes the moment Jim informs him that doctors believe his youngest, his Sammy, could have cancer.
It's news that, as a Pastor, he has had to help deliver before, and it never gets any easier. Yet, somehow, watching the confusion, then the anger, pain and then devastation wash over Johns face is the worst time yet. Perhaps it is because he himself is emotionally invested in the wellbeing of these boys, but it makes his throat clench painfully and tears well in his eyes in a way they haven't in an uncountable amount of time.
John threw an entire bottle of whiskey across the room before packing up his things and heading out of the room towards his car.
"John, you're really not in any place to be driving." Jim told him, receiving a patented Winchester glare in response before the man sighed and his shoulders, held up in determination to get to his sons, dropped.
"Yeah." John sighed, turning towards Jim. "Yeah, okay." They headed towards his car, climbing in to the car in silence.
It was an hour later when John finally spoke again.
"If I- Dean told me a month ago that Sam was sick. If I'd taken him to a doctor then? Would anything be different?"
"We don't know, John. And it's not time to be thinking like that, get your head in the game. Your boys need you." John didn't say anything else, instead closing his eyes and leaning against the window. He wasn't asleep, far too keyed up and distraught for that, but hopefully getting some kind of rest. Once they got back to Sioux Falls, he was going to have the wrath of Bobby, Caleb and - most importantly- Dean coming down on him.
John Winchester was going to need all the strength he could get.
Sam was still asleep when John and Jim finally turned up at the hospital, three hours after they'd left the motel. John, anxious to see his son, burst into the room only to have two pairs of hands pressed against his chest and shoulders, pushing him out. Dean followed them after pressing a kiss to Sammy's forehead, annoyed and disappointed that their father burst into the room like that knowing how sick Sam was.
"What are you doing?" His father demanded angrily, glaring at Bobby and Caleb whilst batting away their hands.
"You need to calm down and we need to talk." Bobby growled back at him, arms crossed tightly, and Dean knew that was to stop him punching the man straight in the face.
"I don't want to talk, I want to see my son. My sick son."
"Oh, no. You don't get to play that card now dad. Where were you when I rang to tell you Sam was ill earlier, or the past times I tried to tell you, huh?" Dean pushed in front of the other men, glaring up at his dad with his mouth pressed in a thin, frustrated line.
"On a job, Dean. I swear, if I'd known how bad it was, I would have come straight home." John tried to side step them, but Dean grabbed his sleeve and tugged harshly until his father was stood right in front of him again.
"You hung up on me before I could tell you! And why does it even have to be this bad, if Sam's sick at all you should be there. Whether it's the flu, or a stomach bug or cancer." Dean hisses back at him, fists clenched tightly by his side, both trying to fight back his anger and his devastation. John swallowed harshly, his own posture mirroring Deans. "Pastor Jim shouldn't have had to search for you." Dean finishes, glaring directly up at his father.
"Dean- You know how the job is, people were in danger-"
"Sammy was in danger! Sammy still is in danger. We are your family, where were you?" Dean demands, voice in the middle of 'family' and then having to fight through tears and clenched teeth.
"Dean-" John reached out, putting a hand on Deans shoulder gently as sobs began to wrack him. There were resounding sighs of both pain and slight relief as Dean let go, falling into John and batting at him with weak fists.
"He was having nosebleeds and - God, dad he was fitting and- Where were you?" Dean cried into his fathers shirt, finally stopping his assault in exchange for being pulled tightly to Johns body as the man knelt in front of him.
"Shh. Dean, I know, okay? I know, I'm so sorry. Not going anywhere now, we can do this together, alright? Shh, it'll be okay." It took another five minutes of tight clinging, and another ten before Dean was calm enough, composed enough to go back into the room with Sammy. Although, he stopped his father just before going into the room.
"He- Dad, he doesn't look good. Just, try not to wake him up, kay?" John just nods, pressing a reassuring hand to Deans shoulder as he followed him into the room. It was redundant though, because Sammy was blinking awake sleepily as they stepped back into the room.
"D'n?" He murmured, and he rushed across, climbing back up into his empty space and allowing Sammy to curl into his side again.
"Shh, Sammy. Dad's here now, it's okay." He whispered against his baby brothers ear, gently brushing the soft hairs at his neck.
"Daddy?" Sam whined, twisting his head back to look at his father, smiling sadly down at them on the other side of the bed.
"Hey, kiddo." Their father replied, leaning down to press a soft kiss against Sam's sweaty, cold forehead. "How you feelin'?"
"Mmm, hurty." Sam moaned, burying his head into Dean's neck, seeking out comfort and warmth.
"I know, doctors will get you all better soon, okay Sammy?" Sam just nodded, curled still sleepy in Dean's side. John soothed a hand down his youngest back, fighting against the tears of pain and fear threatening to spill over.
"Yeah, you go back to sleep, Sammy." John choked out. "It'll be all better soon."