Chapter 25
Disclaimer: Still don't own.
A/N: Sorry for the delay. It was a combination of real life, writers block and compture problems. I want to thank Soar for the beta job. Any left over mistakes are my own. Thanks again to JuliaAurelia and Sinead-Conlan for their feedback and encourgement.
Fear ran through every fiber of John's being when Dean's monitor started beeping frantically. His attention immediately turned to the screens that Dean's many wires were attached to. His eyes were drawn to the numbers, desperately trying to pinpoint what was wrong. Although Cindy had explained the numbers to him many times, it had always gone over John's head.
"What's going on?" he begged worriedly. Dean had to be alright, he just had to be. He had almost lost Sam to this whole nightmare, and now he could lose Dean. "Do something," John all but ordered.
"I need you to step out of the room for a minute," Cindy requested, as she pressed the call button to summon Dr. Scott.
"No!," John protested fiercely. "Just tell me what's going on." Damned doctors and their need to know crap. The irony of that sentence was completely lost on the elder hunter.
"It looks like his oxygen levels have dropped. Please John, just let me do my job," Cindy said trying to reassure the distraught father.
"What's going on?" John asked trying to keep his panic at bay. He realized that he was failing miserably. He was fighting every instinct he had to keep himself from grabbing the nurse and shaking the information out of her.
"I don't know," Cindy replied honestly. Her tone was gentle but firm. "You'll know as soon as I do, but right now, I need to do my job. I need you to step outside."
John stood helplessly as he watched Cindy fiddle with the dials on the controls behind Dean's bed. "Talk to me," he begged again.
"John, I promise, I'm not hiding anything from you. You need to let me work." Cindy was fighting her own temptation to tell John that he was making things worse. "Step outside," she requested again. Her tone was firm and John suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder, and he found himself being dragged toward the door. Cindy opened the sliding glass door and before he knew it, John found himself on the outside. He couldn't believe he'd just been manhandled by a 5'4 nurse. Not only that, he was now "contaminated" and he couldn't go back into Dean's room until he went through the whole sterilization routine again.
He was in the anteroom when Dr. Scott showed up and quickly donned the protective coverings. John tried getting information out of him, but the doctor gave the standard answer, that he would know as soon as he found out.
John tried to watch through the window but Cindy pulled the curtain shut, frustrating John immensely, and before he knew what he was doing, he hauled off and punched the wall.
Pain flared in his hand and up his whole arm. Not caring in the least that he had probably broken something, John sat down heavily, dropping his head into his hands and he found himself doing something he hadn't done in a long time. Praying.
I know I don't have any business asking for anything. It's just that Dean, well he doesn't deserve this. Just watch over him. Make him okay. He has to be okay.
It wasn't long after that when Sam and Bobby showed up and they found John sitting slumped over in his chair. He was still dressed head to toe in the protective coverings.
"What's going on?" Bobby asked sounding very worried.
"Dad?" Sam asked, sounding very young and just as worried as Bobby.
"I don't know," John stammered. "One of the alarms went off and Cindy said something about his oxygen level dropping."
"Damn it," Bobby swore. "Johnny, are you sure you're okay?" he asked. He'd just taken a good look at his friend and he was suddenly almost as worried about John as he was about his son. Dean had more color than John did right now. He hadn't left the hospital in 3 days, and Bobby knew that he'd had little to eat or drink in that whole time. He'd had maybe 12 hours sleep in the last few days, and what little he had gotten was in a highly uncomfortable chair outside Dean's room, or a small lumpy couch in the ward waiting room when they kicked him out. He had tried to warn John that it was going to catch up with him, but as usual, the other man had been too stubborn to listen.
"Fine," John mumbled dismissively. He finally seemed to realize that he still had the protective mask over his face. He reached up and tore it off.
"He'll be fine," Sam said reassuringly. He hoped he had sounded confident. He couldn't let himself think otherwise. Especially since it was his bone marrow that was in Dean right now. Oh God! Was this his fault?
"How much more can he take?" John replied softly.
"John..."
"No Bobby, don't okay? Just don't. I have to go back in there." John stood up and ripped off the rest of his coverings, walked over to the sink and started sterilizing himself again. He had to work hard to be able to walk in a straight line.
"John..." Bobby started as John got up. His worry level increased when John staggered a bit. He was headed for a crash, but one glance at Sam and Bobby realized that they had another problem on their hands. He recognized guilt whenever he saw it and Sam had a huge amount of it going on. The poor boy had to be blaming himself. Bobby had three Winchesters in the middle of a crisis. He wished he could clone himself to be able to help all of them.
It was at this point that the curtain was pulled back, and Cindy and Dr. Scott walked out of the room.
"He's al..." That was as far as John got before he slid to the floor in a boneless heap.
"Told ya so, idjit," Bobby quipped.
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Cindy immediately called for help and they got John loaded onto a gurney. Dr. Scott let Sam and Bobby know that Dean was stable at the moment, while he tended to the fallen Winchester. His initial assessment was that John wasn't suffering from anything more than exhaustion and dehydration, but he wanted to run some blood work to be sure. Cindy volunteered to go with John and come back to give them an update as soon as she had one.
"Sam, Bobby, have a seat," Dr. Scott indicated the chairs behind him. Both immediately felt their anxiety increase. They never asked you to sit down for good news.
"How's Dean?" they immediately asked.
"He is stable as I mentioned. What happened is that when his oxygen levels dropped below a certain level, his monitor went off. We turned up the volume to stabilize him."
"What aren't you telling us?" Sam questioned worriedly. He could clearly hear the unspoken "but." Sam decided that he really and truly hated that word.
"Dean's still struggling to keep his oxygen levels up. His body is focusing on that, and it's putting a strain on his other organs, mainly his heart."
"His heart? That sounds really bad." Bobby could feel his blood pressure shooting through the roof, along with his anxiety and fear.
"It's not good, but right now, his heart is strong, and I don't think his previous heart problems will be an issue."
"What happens now?' Sam asked.
"I can't," Bobby said suddenly. He knew what the doctor was about to say. "I promised him I wouldn't."
"What's going on?" Sam asked looking at Bobby in confusion.
"They want to put your brother on a ventilator, Sam," Bobby said angrily. He wasn't mad at anyone though, just the situation.
Sam looked to the doctor for confirmation. Dr. Scott nodded that Bobby was correct.
"How long?" Sam asked.
"It would be a day to day thing. I can't say for sure," he said honestly.
"I promised him," Bobby repeated again, talking to himself more than anyone.
"I know this is a difficult decision to make," Dr. Scott replied sympathetically. "If it helps, the vent will be set on assist. He'll still be breathing on his own, but the vent will take over if he needs help. The thing you do need to be aware of, though, is that he could become dependent on it. Bobby, I understand that you have Dean's medical power of attorney, but I think this is a decision you should make as a family."
"Thanks," Bobby replied grateful that Dr. Scott was honest with them.
"I'll leave you to discuss this. I'm going to go check on John."
"What are you going to do?" Sam immediately asked when Dr. Scott left.
"I don't know," Bobby replied honestly. "I want Dean to recover, but he trusted me with this."
"Maybe we should discuss it with dad?" Sam suggested half-heartedly. He knew it wouldn't be a discussion. John would simply order that it be done. It was the reason Dean had chosen Bobby, because he knew that he would be the one most likely to respect his wishes. "Never mind."
"What's your opinion?" Bobby asked sincerely.
"I don't know," Sam said honestly. "He is my brother and I don't want anything to happen to him. Plus it's my bone marrow..."
"STOP IT!" Bobby cut him off angrily. "No matter what the outcome, it's not your fault!" he finished emphatically. "Sam, without you, Dean probably wouldn't have made it this far. Don't forget that. Not to mention that Dean would seriously kick your ass for even considering it, ya idjit."
"I know," Sam admitted reluctantly. It still didn't change the fact that he felt guilty. "No matter what me and Dad want, it's ultimately your decision."
"I don't..."
"What?" Sam encouraged when Bobby hesitated.
"Every instinct is telling me to let the doctor do this." Sam could clearly hear his least favourite word about to emerge from Bobby's lips. "But it's so obvious how Dean would feel, and I'm supposed to be representing what he would want. It's what he asked me to do. I know how angry he would be at me." Bobby stopped, reached up and pulled his trucker hat off his head and wrung it in his hands like he was trying to squeeze the life out of it. "Why did I agree to this? I can't do this. I can't make this decision," he mumbled under his breath.
It was so strange for Sam to see Bobby looking so lost, or so unsure of himself. Hell, he was the one person who could get John Winchester to listen to reason, on occasion. Sam got up and sat down next to the older man. He reached up and laid a hand on Bobby's shoulder, trying to comfort him like Bobby had done for all of them so many times. "I don't envy you having to make this decision. Knowing what Dean would want, versus what we all want. The thing with Dean is that he doesn't always make the best decisions concerning himself."
"Tell me something I don't know," Bobby agreed.
"You know my feelings on this. I want you to give the doctor permission," Sam said honestly. "This reminds me of the time Dean graduated from high school."
"What the hell does that have to do with anything?" Bobby asked in confusion.
"Because if it had been up to Dean, he would have dropped out the second he turned 16. I remember I used to get so mad at him because he wouldn't stand up to dad. Always did what dad told him to. School was the only thing I ever saw them argue about."
"You're still not making a lot of sense here," Bobby replied.
"Have you ever heard of a guy named Jed Stuart?"
"The quarterback for the Dallas Cowboys?"
"Yeah. Did you know that he went to our school? He and Dean graduated together."
"So Dean knows a famous quarterback, maybe he can get us some tickets for the Superbowl when he gets out of here, but Sam, you have really lost me now."
"Just bear with me a minute here, okay?" Sam said a little impatiently. "You're worse than dad. The point I'm trying to make is that if dad had let Dean drop out of school, the Cowboys wouldn't have their star quarterback, and most likely wouldn't have won."
"If I understand you correctly, Dean not dropping out of school led to the Cowboy's winning the Superbowl? You're going to need a good one to make me believe that."
"And I'll tell you, if you would just shut up for a minute," Sam huffed. "You say dad has no patience."
"Sorry," Bobby said sincerely. He hadn't meant to snap at Sam. It was just that if he had information that would help him make a decision, Bobby wanted to hear it.
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1998
14 year old Sam Winchester impatiently checked his watch and then glanced back into the doors of Woodburn High School, looking for his brother, and huffed a sigh of annoyance when he didn't see any sign of him. Their father had told him that he would be about 10 minutes late picking them up because he had a job interview, and they were to be waiting for him in front of the school, or else, because he would have just enough time to drop them off and head to another interview he had scheduled.
So far, their dad was five minutes past the time he had said that he would pick them up, and Sam knew that was going to put him in a seriously pissed off mood. Being on time was a habit John still had left over from the marines. So if their dad had to wait longer for Dean, then it was really going to irritate him, and Sam wanted his dad's permission to try out for the soccer team. The permission slips had to be in tomorrow at the latest.
Sam checked his watch and then looked down the road for the Impala, and then back over his shoulder for Dean. He was getting mad himself now. There was no sign of either one. Why the hell couldn't he and Dean have just walked to their motel? It was a 10 minute walk, tops, and John wouldn't have had to be so rushed.
They had been bouncing from town to town, one hunt after another, with no signs of it slowing down. 3 months into the new school year, and they had already been in four schools. It had started to take its toll on Sam's work and it was playing havoc with Dean's.
With the threat of Dean having to repeat yet another year, John finally decided to take things seriously, and he settled them in a little hole in the wall town in Iowa, and promised they would be there until Dean graduated. John even said that he was going to get a job and rent them an apartment.
A month later, he was still trying. Since the town was so small, there weren't that many openings. Sam wanted his father to find a job desperately. The motel room and supplies had to be paid for with cash, since they couldn't risk using the fraudulent credits cards. They could only afford one motel room, and two teenagers and one grumpy ex-marine in one room for a month, were causing tempers to flare.
To anyone that knew the Winchesters, they would have been surprised to find that it was John and Dean who were constantly at each other's throats, rather than Sam and his father.
Sam figured that school had a lot to do with Dean's attitude of late. The school had taken one look at his grades and records and had put him in a mentoring program. He took regular academic classes, but instead of study hall, and for 3 hours on Fridays, he and other students in the program met in the resource room where tutors went over their work and gave extra help in areas needed.
The younger hunter actually thought the program was pretty cool, but it went without saying that Dean disagreed.
A honk brought Sam out of his thoughts and he saw the impala pulling up next to the curb. Sam glanced over his shoulder, praying that his brother would appear in the next 10 seconds as he slowly made his way to the curb.
When he reached the shiny, black classic he did not want to get into that car. Dean was still nowhere to be seen. A quick peek at his watch and Sam knew that there was no way John wasn't going to be late to his next interview, and with still no sign of Dean...
"Where the hell is your brother?" a voice growled by way of greeting as Sam got into the car.
"I..." Sam paused as he tried to think of an excuse.
"Never mind," John snapped, clearly irritated. "Get in the front," he ordered.
Sam never sat in the front. Their father had made both of them sit in the back until Dean was 11 and he completed his first salt and burn. Dean had gotten to ride up front as a reward, and ever since then, it had been his place. He really didn't think this was a good idea, as Dean would take it personally. "I don't..."
"I don't remember asking for your opinion. Get your ass in the front seat," John finished in a tone that even Sam wouldn't argue with.
Knowing that he had no choice but to comply, Sam got out of the back and climbed in next to his dad. "How did your interview go?" Sam asked hoping to break the tension. His father was wound so tight, one more thing was going to make him explode.
"Fine," John said dismissively as he continued to scan the schoolyard for his wayward, elder son. Not seeing him, John pulled out his cell phone and called the guy he had an interview with. He told the potential employer that something had come up and could they reschedule? He hadn't been happy when he hung up, and Sam guessed that was one job opportunity that was closed to his father.
"There he is," Sam said as he finally spied his brother coming out of the front doors. He immediately cringed. A slow, red flush had crept up John's cheeks, and Sam could see the vein in his father's forehead started pulsing, and if he didn't know better, Sam would swear that he could see smoke coming out of his father's ears. John Winchester was beyond pissed, and Sam was very glad that he wasn't in his brother's shoes right now.
There was a girl who was walking out next to his brother, and both Winchesters guessed that Dean had kept them waiting while he flirted with some girl. Both watched as the girl said something to Dean and laughed. Sam did take note that Dean scowled at whatever she had said to him. Before he could really think about it, another boy that Sam recognized as the school quarterback came up to them and also said something to his brother that caused the girl to laugh harder. Great, so Dean was flirting with Jed Stuart's girlfriend. That was going to end well.
Sam watched as his brother approached the car. He saw the way Dean froze for just a split second when he spied Sam in the front seat, before he climbed into the back of the car. Even if Dean had a good explanation as to why he was late, they'd never hear it now.
"What's for dinner?" Dean asked casually.
Sam was really surprised that their father didn't stroke out. "Did you, or did you not hear me tell you to be waiting for me in the front of the school?"
Dean didn't answer, he just grabbed his back pack and started rooting around in it.
"DEAN!" John said, clearly exasperated. "Are you even listening to me?"
"I'm checking my date book to see where I was supposed to be after school," Dean said flippantly.
John slowly counted to 10 and was really glad that he had told Sam to get into the front seat. He knew what sitting in the front represented to Dean, but he needed that distance. He had to keep his temper in check. "Never mind, I know where you were," John said furiously. "I got a call from your guidance counsellor, right in the middle of my interview."
"Maybe she just wanted to tell you what an awesome kid you've got," Dean suggested.
Patience, John, patience. "Is this all a joke to you?" John replied angrily. "I told you that I had another interview and with this little stunt you pulled, I had to call and reschedule, and let me tell you, he sounded less than impressed and said he would call me back to reschedule, and you know what that means. Then, I find out the reason your late is that you were messing around with some bimbo. Do you have anything to say for yourself?"
"I was a bad boy. Maybe you should send me to my room. Oh wait, that's right, I don't have one," Dean replied sarcastically.
"We all know whose fault that is, don't we?" John said callously. He would rather shoot himself before he would strike his children, but right now, he was seriously considering rethinking his no spanking policy. Finally making a decision, he drove to the library. "Get out," he growled at his eldest.
"What?" Dean asked in a bit of confusion.
"The library closes at 9. Go study. I'll be back for you then."
"But it's only 4 now," Dean protested.
"Sam, you go with him," John said ignoring Dean. He didn't trust himself to speak to his eldest child at this time.
"I don't need a babysitter," Dean said indignantly.
"You should have thought of that before," John grumbled.
"Fine, come on, Sammy. You can make sure the dumbass isn't too stupid to find the door."
"Dean, what the hell has gotten into you?" John asked. He was still angry, but right now he was concerned. He wasn't used to Dean acting like this, and quite frankly, he was at a loss as to how to handle it.
"Nothing," Dean insisted. "I'm just too..."
"Finish that sentence and I swear you won't sit comfortably for a month, and if you think this little stunt is going to convince me to let you drop out, well guess what, it's not. You're going to school until you graduate, even if it takes you until you're 30, and at the rate you're going, it just might," John snapped unthinkingly.
The second those words left John's mouth, he wanted to take them back. He knew he had gone too far. Even Sam was now glaring at him. "Dean I..." John tried. He stopped. How exactly did he take that back?
"Forget it, dad. I'm not allowed to say how stupid I am, but you are. I get it. I'll be here at nine. I think I can manage that. It's when the big hand is on the 9 and the little hand is on the 12, right?"
"Dean..."
But Dean had already gotten out and slammed the door. "I'm sorry to leave you with this, Sammy," John said apologetically.
"You need to be careful what you say," Sam admonished his father. "I'll talk to him, dad, see if I can find out what's really bugging him."
"Thanks, Sammy."
As Sam got out, John put his key in the ignition and started up the car. Just before he could pull away, something was flung in the window and hit him in the chest. He looked up and saw Dean standing there. The expression on his face broke John's heart.
"My teacher wanted you to sign those. That's why I was late, she wanted to discuss them with me. It's why my guidance counsellor wanted to see you," he said hurt coloring his tone. He didn't wait for John to answer before he stalked off.
John grabbed the papers that had landed on the bench seat and looked at them. One was an essay on the Revolutionary War that had earned an A-, an English test that had earned a B+ and a math test Dean had scored a 98 on. If he didn't feel like an ass already... John didn't need to finish that thought.
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The 5 minute drive to the hotel seemed like hours to John. He couldn't believe that he had let things escalate so badly. He knew that Dean had been trying to make him mad, and he should have been the bigger man and refused to take the bait. Now he had no clue what to do. Dean would never talk to him now.
He couldn't say he was surprised when the phone rang 15 minutes later.
RING RING
"Hello," John said warily.
"Dad," a small voice said.
"Sammy?"
"Yeah," he replied. "Um, Dean... he... that is... well..."
"Dean left the library?" John guessed.
"Yeah. It was strange."
That wasn't want John was expecting. "What's happened?" he asked in concern.
"Well, we went in and we got a table. Dean wouldn't say anything, but he had his books out and he was working. I got up to go find some books for a project and I saw those kids from the school, the ones we saw Dean walk out with. They were talking to him, but I wasn't close enough to hear what he had to say."
"It's okay, Sammy."
"They left when they saw me coming back over to Dean. I sat down, and Dean told me to tell you that he would get himself back to the hotel. Then he grabbed his jacket and left. He also, um..." Sam hesitated, not really wanting to tell his dad what Dean had said next.
"What is it, Sammy?" John asked in a resigned tone.
"He said to leave his books here because he didn't need them anymore. That he was..."
"It's okay, Sammy. I can guess what he said. I'm going to go look for him. Do you want to stay there, or do you want to come with me?"
There was a project that Sam needed to finish, but he knew he'd never be able to concentrate, so it would be useless to stay here. Plus, Sam figured Dean might need a witness when John got a hold of him. He gathered up his books and Dean's and headed outside to meet his father.
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It didn't take long for them to track down Dean. It really didn't help matters that John found his son coming out of the liquor store with a six pack in his hands.
The ride back to the motel was one of the most uncomfortable things Sam had ever experienced. It was the loudest silence Sam had ever heard. He just wished that someone would say something. He'd even welcome one of Dean's smart ass comments.
A quick glance at their father and Sam was shocked to see no signs of anger coming from him. He looked tired and worried, and he kept shooting concerned looks in the mirror at his eldest son. Dean was leaning back against the seat with his arms crossed over his chest. His head was turned toward the window, staring at the scenery that went by.
It wasn't a scene that Sam was familiar with. He was normally the one who was drawing his father's ire. He wasn't sure what to do now that he wasn't.
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"I'm not going."
"Yes, you are."
It was the first thing that Sam heard when he woke up the next morning. Groaning silently, Sam pulled the pillow over his head and hoped that Dean and his father didn't notice he was awake. It didn't appear that they had paid any attention to him as the argument continued.
"No!"
"Dean, so help me..."
"What? Are you going to ground me?"
"Where do you ever go that it would make any difference?"
"I'm so sorry I'm not a social butterfly like Sammy is. It that another thing I screwed up?"
"Knock that crap off this minute!"
"Why is it okay for you to say it?"
Sam groaned again, louder this time. Damn it, why did their father have to put his foot in his mouth every God damned time? He should have known to back off, but John never did.
"I don't think you're stupid. Don't," John growled, cutting off whatever it was Dean had to say. "I never did. So unless you can give me a good reason as to why you should stay home, you are going to school today." John paused, coming just short of praying that Dean would take the opening John gave him.
"Fine," Dean huffed. "Sammy, get your ass out of bed. The master has spoken." With that, Dean walked over and smacked Sam's foot, hard.
"OW! Hey, quit it," Sam replied sitting up and rubbing the spot where Dean had hit him.
"I'm gonna go wait in the car," Dean huffed.
"It's still an..." John trailed off. In his current state, reminding Dean that they still had 45 minutes before they had to leave would not go over well.
"Sam," John addressed his youngest son after Dean had slammed the door. "Has Dean said anything to you, anything at all?"
"No, you know how he gets. He won't talk to anyone unless he's ready. He'll tell you eventually, right?" Sam asked sounding very unsure. "It's Dean." Sam wasn't sure if he was trying to convince his father or himself.
"When he's ready," John said softly. The problem was that it could take months. Dean needed to feel safe and secure before he was ready to talk about anything. Even then, it was still like pulling teeth and with the thoughtless comments John had made earlier, he didn't think Dean would ever trust him again.
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Whoever wrote the saying that things get worse before they get better obviously had the Winchesters in mind. John's meeting with Dean's guidance counsellor was not what he had expected. Apparently, she wanted to let him know how pleased she was with Dean's progress, and to let him know that Dean's math scores on the SAT were above average, and if he continued his current improvement, she felt there was a real possibility that Dean might have been able to get a conditional acceptance into college, if he wanted to go.
5 days later, he was back in her office trying to deflect her questions as to what was going on with his eldest son. She said his grades had taken a sudden nose dive and did he know why Dean appeared to have stopped trying overnight. John made up some BS story and said he would talk to his son and get him back on track.
He never had the chance because everything came to a head that afternoon. Even John knew what happened because it was the talk of the town for weeks.
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Dean Winchester walked into the locker room for gym class that day. He was so not in a good mood. He had just come from flunking a pop quiz in geography and had been sorely tempted to skip, but they were doing a wrestling unit and Dean was in the mood to kick some ass. This gave him a good place to do it and not get into trouble. It was a win-win situation for the young hunter and he was really hoping that the coach would partner him with Jed Stuart.
Jed Stuart.
It was him who was making Dean's life a living hell at this school. He was the leader of the football team and the guy was a walking stereotype of a star athlete. He was dating the head cheerleader and he was a conceited jerk who thought he deserved special treatment, and he got it, from students and teachers alike. There was only one thing about the guy that wasn't a cliché. In most movies and books, Jed would have been in the mentoring program right beside him, but Jed was an honor roll student and he never let anyone forget it.
Dean wasn't Jed's only target, but he seemed to his main one, and he was never sure why. Maybe it was because for the most part, Dean didn't fight back and that made him an easy target. It wasn't that he didn't want to, but he had learned the hard way what happens when you messed with the school's favourite son. He was a few months from freedom and nothing was going to mess that up. Unless he flunked again. Which seemed to be a real possibility. Even his dad had thought so.
"Hey, Winchester."
"Leave me alone, Jed," Dean said warily. He was not in the mood for this. He doubted his ability to keep his temper in check.
"I bet you failed that test last period. Keep this up and you'll be the first person to flunk out of special education. That takes a special kind of stupid. Doesn't it, guys?" He asked his best friends Albert Kimble and Michael Brookes.
"Yeah. I'm surprised you managed to find your way to the gym," Michael said.
"Ha Ha. That was so funny I forgot to laugh," Dean mumbled sarcastically.
"I'm amazed you know what the word laugh means," Albert joked.
Jed glared at his friend. "That's my line, idiot," he said giving Albert a shove.
Albert was in the mentoring program with Dean and he really didn't like it when someone started in on him. "I'm not an idiot like Winchester here. You're a jerk," Albert said angrily and returned Jed's shove.
"Am not," Jed fired back and this time he pushed Albert, hard.
"Hey," the big man protested. Albert was built like the linebacker he was and he retaliated. Jed went down.
"Hey," Jed said in surprise. He scrambled up off the floor quickly. "You belong in the dummy class with Winchester," Jed fired as he pushed Albert again.
Dean could see where this was going as spats with Sam like this had escalated into full blown brawls. The problem was that it was a locker room. It was full of other guys, and lockers, and benches and chairs, and there was no room to get into a knockdown, drag out fight without risking someone getting seriously hurt.
"Hey, I think you two..."
"Don't think, Winchester," Michael cut him off. "You don't want to hurt yourself." He was eager to see a fight.
"But..." It was as far as Dean got.
Albert had launched himself at Jed and both fell. The problem was that when Jed fell, his side impacted with a bench, and as he pulled Albert down, the bigger boy ended up with his elbow landing squarely on Jed's injured side.
Dean could swear that he heard the crack of Jed's ribs from where he was standing.
"Oh, God! Jed, I'm sorry," Albert suddenly cried sharply as he got up, and Jed didn't. "Come on, get up," he begged. He was sounding frantic.
Dean reacted instantly. He ran over to the fallen quarterback, knelt beside him and lifted up his shirt. He could see a dark blue and purple bruise forming along Jed's side. He quickly ran a hand down his side and confirmed his suspicions that Jed's ribs were broken. He just really hoped that they hadn't punctured something. "Get the nurse," Dean screamed to the boys standing around him.
"Hey, get away from him, you dummy," Albert said pushing Dean's hands off his friend. "Jed, get up, come on. Please."
Crap, Crap, Crap. This was so not good. Dean thought. The area around Jed's lips had taken on a bluish tinge.
"What the hell is going on in here?" An angry voice called out.
"Coach Abrams," someone called out. "Jed's hurt."
The coach immediately ran to Jed's side. "David, go get the nurse, and someone call, 911. HURRY!"
Out of the corner of his eye, Dean could see someone run out of the room. Kneeling, the coach let out an impressive set of four letter words when he noticed the blue around Jed's lips. He immediately cupped his hands and placed them on Jed's sternum to start CPR.
"No, don't," Dean cried and knocked the coach's hands away. He lowered his head towards Jed's chest, and as he suspected, there was no breath sounds. Crap, this was so not good. He got up and ran for his backpack.
"Winchester," the coach admonished.
"He's got a broken rib, mostly likely it punctured his lung. CPR is going to make it worse."
"Are you a doctor?" the coach yelled.
"Yeah, right! Everybody knows Winchester can't spell the word," Michael called out.
"Brooks, you're not helping," the coach cried.
Dean did know what to do. He and Sam had spent a whole summer with Joshua. He was a doctor, but also a hunter, and he had taught both Sam and Dean the hunter version of emergency first aid. He had his backpack open and he grabbed his pen, a bottle of water and his butterfly knife. His dad was going to kill him for this, but he couldn't let the guy die.
He was gone about 30 seconds, and the coach had taken that opportunity to try and begin CPR again. He was panicking because the blue around Jed's lips was getting darker, and seemed to have spread to his nail beds.
"Don't," Dean ordered firmly and again knocked the coach's hands away from Jed.
"Winchester," the coach said clearly frustrated. "What the hell are you doing? He can't breathe."
"I know that, sir," Dean replied. "His lung's punctured. The pressure has to be relieved before it stops his heart. Hold him down." He quickly pulled the ink out of the pen and poured water over the empty tube, his hands, and the knife. He wished that he had something to sterilize it with, but this would have to do. "Hold him down," Dean ordered again. He quickly found the spot on Jed's chest and was about to make a cut with his knife.
"HEY!" This time it was Coach Abrams, Michael and Albert who shouted.
"My dad..."
"Get away from him," Albert said and he pushed Dean. "You can't even pass a test. There's no way I'm letting you near my friend."
Being off balance, Dean fell back and his head connected with the corner of the bench. He felt a small trickle of blood run down the side of his head and it began to throb painfully.
With his adrenaline flowing, Dean shook it off and immediately went back to Jed's side. He had to act quickly. He saw Albert step toward him again. This time Dean was ready and when the bigger boy pushed him, Dean didn't move. "My dad was a medic in Vietnam. Me and my brother go hunting with him all the time and he taught us everything he knows. I know what I'm doing. Now hold him the hell down or you're going to be attending his funeral." Dean's voice sounded exactly like John Winchester's, and he guessed that's why both Albert, Michael and the coach complied with his orders.
The problem was that Dean's confidence was shaken to its very core. He was just a kid in Special Ed and he was flunking. He was way behind in everything. Had Joshua's lessons really sunk in?
He couldn't think about that now. Everyone was staring at him. Dean focused all his concentration on Jed and thought about if it was Sam laying there. He quickly found the correct spot on Jed's chest and made a small cut. A few minutes later Dean had the pen tube in the cut and pulled off the cap. There was an audible hiss and the skin around Jed's lips immediately started to pink up.
"Hold this," Dean instructed the coach. "Don't let it move."
He got up, just as the paramedics and nurse came bursting into room.
"Who did this?" one of the paramedics demanded.
"One of my students," Coach Abrams confirmed. He knew he should never have let the kid do this. He would be lucky if Jed survived and he wasn't fired.
"It was quick thinking. Probably saved the kid's life," the paramedic told the surprised teacher.
-------
The coach cleared the locker room quickly as the paramedics loaded Jed onto a stretcher. He walked over to his pupil, who was sitting on a bench in the locker room.
"Good work, Dean." he said sincerely. "Hey, are you, alright?" he asked sincerely. Dean looked awfully pale, and there was still a small trickle of blood running down the side of his head. Dean's hands were also shaking.
"I... I'm fin... I think I'm going to be sick." With that, Dean lost everything that was in his stomach.
"It's okay," the coach said gently as he laid a hand on Dean's back.
"The knife..." Dean felt he had to explain. "I wasn't..."
"What knife? Come on. I want a doctor to look at that cut."
--------
"My son, where is he?" John said as he burst through the doors at the hospital. He didn't know anything. The school had called John, told him Dean had been taken to the hospital, but he had hung up before they could tell him what was wrong.
"Who's your son?" the admitting clerk asked.
"Dean..."
"Oh, the little hero. He's in exam one. You must be proud."
Huh! "Ah, yeah." John had no idea what she was talking about. He decided he didn't care and made his way to the room the clerk pointed out.
He found Dean sitting on a gurney, with Sam sitting next to him. A doctor was just finishing taping a small bandage on Dean's forehead. John took stock of his son, he seemed a little ashen but otherwise he looked fine.
"I'm Doctor Manning," the physician greeted John. "You must be Mr. Winchester."
"Yeah, what happened?" he asked.
"Dean's fine. No stitches, just a couple of butterfly bandages. You must be so proud," Dr. Manning repeated the clerk's words. "Anyway, there's no concussion so you can take him home."
"Sam, Dean, what happened?" John asked after the doctor left.
"Noth..." Dean started to say only to be cut off by his little brother.
"Dean saved Jed's life," Sam said excitedly. He was so proud of his brother and the whole story came pouring out.
"Dean, I..." John started feeling the pride everyone else was.
"I'm not a hero. I was so scared. I was afraid I was going to..." He stopped abruptly when he felt himself swept into his father's strong arms.
"Hey, that's nothing to be ashamed of. You didn't let that fear control you."
"I didn't think I could do it," Dean confessed.
"But you did. That's all that matters."
"I could have kil..."
"Don't Dean," Sam replied. "You saved Jed's life. That's all that matters. You knew what do," Sam said confidently.
"Exactly," John agreed.
"But I'm just some st..."
"Don't Dean. Not now, please," John requested. "I spoke in anger. I do not now or ever did think you were stupid. You're one of the smartest kids I know, and I'd pick you to save my life any day of the week and twice on Sunday."
"But my grades... Jed, he... he always called me stupid and dumb for being in the special kids class," Dean stammered.
"Guess he's gonna have to eat his words now," John said with grin. Dean didn't return it. "What's wrong, buddy?" He asked as he pulled Dean in a little tighter.
"I'm sorry," Dean said softly. "I'm sorry for the way I've been acting."
"What's wrong?" John asked again, keeping his tone soft and gentle.
Once Dean started talking, he couldn't stop. He told his father about the way Jed and the others kept picking on him, and how he was afraid to do anything about it because he was 19, and legally an adult. He didn't think it would end well for him if he got in a fight with a 17 year old kid, and he remembered what had happened when he had stood up to the football player at his last school, and he didn't want to get expelled again, and he just wanted to finish high school so he could hunt with this father, and that he hoped it wasn't too late because he didn't think he could do it for another year.
"Sam, can you run to the cafeteria for a minute? I need to speak to your brother."
For once, Sam didn't argue. He was just planning on eavesdropping anyway.
"I wish you had told me how you were feeling," John said once he thought Sam was out of earshot.
"I know how badly you want me to finish. I didn't want to let you down."
"I'm the one that let you down," John said contritely. "If I had taken your schooling a bit more seriously, maybe you wouldn't have missed out on getting the basics and you wouldn't be struggling now. You do the best you can."
"But I know that you pulled strings. I probably should only be in grade 10 or something."
"It doesn't matter," John said firmly. "The fact that you're doing so well right now should tell you just how resourceful you are. So what if you don't get perfect test scores. You proved you have what it takes when it counts. Plus, I don't think I've ever seen someone rebuild an engine as fast as you can. You're smart, Dean, and don't let anyone ever tell you anything different."
"I'll try." It was the best he could offer. "Does this mean..."
"No, you're still finishing high school," John said guessing what Dean was going to say. "Sam, I know you're standing behind the door, so you might as well come back in." He paused and waited for his youngest to join them. "Let's go home."
"Hey, dad. Since I'm a hero, can we get pizza?"
John grinned and ruffled Dean's hair. "Sure. I got a call from Joe's Garage. I start work on Monday, so let's go gets some movies too.
-------
Present.
"Quick thinking," Bobby said to Sam. He was impressed.
"Yeah. The next day, everybody congratulated him for his quick thinking when Dean came to school."
"What happened with him and Jed?"
"They were never best friends, but Jed left him alone, which was good enough for Dean. We actually did stay until Dean graduated. I wish you could see have seen him that day, Bobby. It was rare to see him so proud of himself. The school even gave him a special award at the ceremony. It was so cool. I never told anybody this, but he came to me and told me was glad that dad hadn't let him drop out."
Actually, what Dean had said to his brother was, "I did it, Sammy. There were times when I didn't think I could, and I wanted to give up, but I finished. I wanted to make dad proud. Don't tell anybody I said this, but I'm glad he wouldn't let me quit." Sam had told him brother that he was proud of him too, and Dean made him promise that he would never tell anyone what he said.
"Dean's diploma is sealed in envelope and in his duffle bag. He told me he looks at it when things get tough, so he can remind himself to never give up."
"Thanks for telling me, Sammy. If Dean had quit, not only would he have regretted it for the rest of his life, but he wouldn't have been there to save that boy's life. What you're telling me is to let the doctor put Dean on the vent, because it could save his life, and in turn, he'll be there to save others."
"Yeah," Sam replied. "He's gonna hate it, and he's gonna fight it, but..."
"Sometimes, Dean just needs a kick in the pants to get to where he wants to be in the first place," Bobby finished for Sam.
"Yeah, and if there is one thing I know that Dean wants more than anything, it's to get out of this hospital."
"Sam, Bobby," Cindy said stepping into the room. "John's awake and cranky as a bear." Both Bobby and Sam grinned at that. "Do you want to discuss Dr. Scott's request with him?"
Bobby walked over to the window and looked in on Dean's sleeping form. "No need," he said. "Just go get the damn paperwork before I change my mind."
TBC
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