Sorry for the delay. And I lied about the 'this being the last chapter' thing when I remembered that Pastor Jim could live close. Sam, and Dean and John for that matter, have a few more things to work out and Jim seems like a good person to hear confessions. Thank you all for the reviews that kept me motivated to keep writing. So here it is. Sam is 14, Dean is 18.
Supernatural is owned by the CW and all that, nothing is mine, I'm just borrowing it to play with.
Thank you all for reading and hopefully I'll post this all in a timely fashion. I'll do my best. Thanks for sticking with me through the absence.
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John hated to wake Sam after only an hour of sleep, but he had no choice. Sam had hardly moved since he was put to bed, but he hadn't been soundly asleep either. He'd struggled against his blankets.
John rested his hand on Sam's shoulder. "Sam. Come on, Sam."
Even with the gentle manner, Sam still started awake. He half sat up, his ribs shot pain through his chest. The pain leeched the color from his face. John held him and eased him back.
"Easy, Sam." John kept one hand just resting on the center of Sam's chest.
"Dad?" He hardly spoke above a whisper.
"Yeah." John tipped some water into Sam's mouth.
Sam swallowed, coughed a little and winced.
"How's the pain?"
He shrugged, his eyes were already slipping closed again.
"You remember where we are?"
"Home." Sam sighed.
John rested his hand on Sam's head. "That's right. Get some sleep."
It didn't take Sam long to fall asleep.
"Dad?" Dean half sat up.
"He's fine, go back to sleep."
Dean sat up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. "I wanna sit up with him."
John turned to his oldest. "You should sleep."
"I'll sleep tomorrow." His jaw was set, Sam wasn't the only one with a stubborn streak.
He nodded. "Okay. Wake me in a few hours to take over."
Dean was already half way across the room to take John's seat. John paused in the doorway and looked at his boys. It scared him how quickly he could have lost Sam. Dean was right, he made a mistake and it nearly cost him a son. Sure, he checked into the Jones's to make sure they were okay, but he shouldn't have left. He should have made sure it was safe instead of just trusting his research. He sighed and went to his room.
Sam shifted under the blankets.
Dean brushed his little brother's hair back. "Sammy?"
"Dean?" Sam's eyes blinked open.
"You okay?"
He shook his head slightly and swallowed.
"What's wrong?"
"Don't feel so good."
Dean was expecting that and was ready with a trashcan when Sam rolled to the side of his bed and vomited. That'd be the concussion. In all honesty, Dean was amazed Sam made it this long.
When Sam was just gasping and spitting, Dean helped him take a few sips of water. He eased Sam back against the pillow and stepped out to put a new bag in the trashcan. Dean sat back in the chair and gripped Sam's arm.
"You okay, kiddo?"
Sam didn't answer, didn't have to. His muscles were tight and his breathing shallow and controlled from pain. Being sick with broken ribs was about the worst thing that could happen. A tear traced its way down Sam's cheek. Dean thumbed it away.
Carefully Dean sat Sam up a little and sat behind him. Dean leaned against the wall and placed the pillow against his legs. He eased Sam back and gently rested his arm across his brother's chest. Sam's hand took hold of Dean's hand, kid didn't even have to open his eyes to find it.
Dean ran his hand through Sam's hair. "Get some sleep, Sammy."
"Dean." He whispered.
"Yeah?"
"Don't want to sleep." Sam forced his eyes open.
He looked down at his brother. "Yeah, but you need to. I'm not going anywhere."
He sighed. "Dream about it."
Dean figured he did. "I'll wake you up if your dreams get too bad and I'll be right here when you do wake up. Nothing to worry about. Okay?"
Sam nodded slightly and gave into sleep. He was so very tired.
Sam woke a few more times during the night, from a nightmare, the words the demon had said echoed in his dreams. Every time he woke, Dean was there already whispering words to make it better.
John appeared in the doorway just after sunrise. Dean was asleep with his head leaned back against the wall, his arm around Sam who was turned towards Dean. His head still in his older brother's lap. John walked over to his boys and gently woke Dean. He opened his eyes and automatically looked at Sam.
"How is he?" John whispered.
"All right."
"Why don't you get some real sleep?"
Dean stretched. "I'm fine." He carefully moved off the bed, Sam didn't wake.
"You know, we're not too far from Pastor Jim's. Could be there by this evening if we leave around noon."
"Move again?"
John shrugged. "Job is done. Sam could use some time with Jim."
Dean had to agree. There were things that Sam wasn't telling them, and not that he trusted Jim more than Dean, but sometimes Jim's perspectives on things were needed. They all could use the break and Jim's house had always felt safe like nothing else had.
"Can we ask him first?"
John nodded. "I'm going to check on Ann and Kyle. I'll be back later. Try and get him to eat something when he wakes up."
"Sure."
Dean heard his dad leave and then the house was just quiet. He rested a hand on Sam's forehead, but everything was as good as to be expected. He slipped out of the room and turned on whatever happened to be on the television at that hour.
Sam woke an hour later, from the same nightmare that had plagued him all night. Dean wasn't there and for a moment his heart pounded as he thought it was true. Then he heard the faint noise of the television and took a slow, shaky breath. He slowly eased himself up and waited for the dizziness to go away. His ribs ached as the last pain pill wore off. His head still faintly throbbed and there was a spot that was more than tender just above his left eye. Oh yeah, that pool table.
He stood and made his way out to the living room. He moved slow and let one hand drift along the wall. He didn't want to be alone, he knew that much.
Dean looked over as Sam appeared in the doorway. "What are you doing up?"
He shrugged. "Not much." He smiled a little.
Dean eased Sam over to the couch. "You hungry?"
Sam shrugged again and watched as Dean went into the kitchen and took down oatmeal and a bowl.
"You have a fantastic shiner, Sammy." Dean glanced over at his brother.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. Makes you look though."
"I don't feel tough." He sighed.
Dean paused. "Well, you are, kiddo." He turned. "I'm sorry, Sam."
Sam met Dean's eyes. "Stop apologizing. Everything worked out, didn't it?"
"Dad said something about heading over to Pastor Jim's for a bit. It's up to you."
He swallowed and his looked over at something in the room without really seeing it, like he was thinking hard about something. "Yeah, okay."
"We could leave today?"
Sam nodded.
"You don't have to."
"I want to." But his voice was quiet as he said it. "I want to go." He looked back at Dean. "Where's dad?"
He turned back to the oatmeal. "Went to check on Ann and Kyle."
"Could you put cinnamon in the oatmeal, Dean?"
"Way ahead of you, Sammy." He smiled, but it was a little fake.
Dean set the bowl of oatmeal down in front of Sam and set a pain pill next to a glass of water. Sam reached for the pill first, which told Dean a lot of things about his kid brother. Sam was always good at that, telling Dean what was really going on without saying a word. Maybe Dean was just good at reading him after fourteen years of practice.
Sam managed a little more than half of the oatmeal and all of the water. Dean could live with that. It wasn't long before Sam was asleep against the arm of the couch. Dean tugged a blanket over his brother and turned the volume on the television down a little.
John came home a few hours later. "How's Sam?"
"All right, I think. Sore as hell." Dean looked over at him. "Ann and Kyle?"
John sighed and sunk into a kitchen chair. "They don't remember much, Ann more than Kyle, but not much. Which is good."
"You say goodbye?"
He nodded. "What'd Sam say about going to Jim's?"
"Said he wanted to."
"But?"
Dean shrugged. "But nothing. I'll get his stuff together." He stood.
"When are you going to stop being mad at me?"
Dean didn't turn to his father. "I'm not mad at just you." He went towards the bedroom.
