Watch Out For Sammy

Chapter 25

While I'm Waiting

Things at the salvage yard were in complete disarray in the aftermath of John's injury. John was in and out of consciousness for three days, never fulling waking up at all, and that fact alone nearly drove Dean to the edge of what he could take. The boy would sit next to John for hours on end, watching over him, but never speaking to him. His eyes rarely left his dad's face, but when they did they were planted firmly on Sam. Bobby knew that the boy was at the end of his rope.

And that's where the problem truly started.

Dean was unusually intense for a child of eleven, always looking out for everyone around him, but seeing his father so vulnerable had pushed that intensity to a new level. And not really being able to help the man pushed it even further. Dean was used to doing things, fixing things. He wasn't used to sitting idly by as someone he loved suffered. He just didn't have it in him to do that.

Bobby knew that fact, but he had no idea how to help the boy. In fact, he was so used to Dean taking care of himself and he was so busy taking care of John and Sam that Dean's well-being fell to the wayside. He wasn't proud to admit that and it took him almost three full days to even realize that Dean hadn't taken a bath since the morning Caleb and Bill brought John back. The kid was still in the same pair of pajamas that he had changed into after cleaning up from all of John's blood.

Once he realized that, he wondered what else he had missed. Had the boy been eating? Sleeping? When was the last time he had said more than a 'yes, sir' or a 'no, sir?'

Bobby had been so focused on taking care of John and making sure that Sammy was taken care of that he really didn't know the answers to those questions. And he felt awful because of it. What kind of a man allowed an eleven year old to dictate when he was going to eat or sleep? What kind of man allowed a young boy to fall by the wayside, forgotten like a broken toy?

He knew that Dean wouldn't respond well to being made to go to bed or go outside to play. Anything that took the boy away from his father's side would not be agreed to easily. In fact, he knew that he was in for one hell of a fight, and there was a part of him that really didn't want to push it. He was a coward.

Steeling himself against what he knew was coming, Bobby made his way over to Dean. Sam was sound asleep in the chair next to the couch, so Dean had placed himself in the middle of the two members of his family. He had positioned himself where he could keep an eye on both of them, leaning against the corner of the coffee table awkwardly. He didn't even look up when Bobby entered the room.

"Hey, kid… Why don't you go on upstairs and take a bath? Don't you think it's about time you got out of those pajamas? It's three in the afternoon."

When Dean didn't answer, Bobby sat down on the edge of the coffee table. "Dean, I'm talking to you," he said somewhat sternly.

"I don't wanna take a bath," Dean answered quietly, his eyes never leaving his father.

"Dean…."

"Please, Uncle Booby," Dean begged.

"Come on, kid. You've been sitting here for days. I know you have to be tired and hungry."

"I'm not," Dean answered immediately.

"Dean, go upstairs and get cleaned up. When you come back down, I expect you to come into the kitchen and eat something."

Bobby decided that he needed to take control of the situation, once and for all, and when Dean still didn't move, he lost it. "Damn it, boy! Get up and do what I say or else you'll be doing it anyway with a sore backside."

Dean looked up at Bobby, realizing that the man was serious. He knew from past experiences that when Bobby said something like that, he meant it. He wasn't a man known for making empty threats. Reluctantly, he stood up and with one last look at his father and his brother, he quickly moved towards the stairs.

Dean was back downstairs within ten minutes and Bobby doubted that the boy had really gotten himself clean enough. He was at least relieved to see him dressed in clean jeans and a sweatshirt, so he decided not to push the subject. Once he hit the bottom of the stairs, Dean made to move towards where his dad and brother were, but with one look from Bobby, he changed direction and went into the kitchen.

Sitting down at the table, Dean looked at the plate sitting in front of him. Bobby knew the boy probably wasn't going to eat much, so he made him a BLT, knowing how much Dean loved bacon. He also put a glass of orange juice in front of him, hoping to get at least a little bit of something nutritious into the boy.

Dean hesitated for a few seconds, but after a quick glance up to the older hunter, he slowly picked up the sandwich and took a bite. At first, he felt his stomach rebel at the greasy bacon, but after a few more bites, he realized that he felt a little better. By the time he felt like he couldn't take another bite, the sandwich was more than half-way gone and he had finished off the glass of juice.

Pushing back his chair, he picked up his plate and glass and carried them over to the sink. Once he had rinsed them out, Dean turned and started walking back towards the living room.

"Hold up!" Bobby said immediately. Dean came to a stop, but didn't turn around. "I want you to go outside for a while, Dean. Get some fresh air."

Dean finally turned around, his eyes pleading with Bobby not to make him go outside. "I don't wanna go outside, Uncle Bobby."

"Dean, you've been closed up inside this house for three days. I want you to go outside and get a little exercise or something. When Sammy wakes up, I'll send him out to you."

Dean wanted to argue with the man, wanting only to go back in and check on his dad, but he didn't. He knew that once Bobby told them to do something, it was expected of them to obey. So, without a single word and only a backward glance towards the living room, Dean turned and walked out onto the porch.

Bobby slipped back into the living room, hoping to see that John was showing signs of waking up. Instead, the man was still out, not having moved at all. Bobby looked over at Sam, who was still curled up on the armchair, looking too small and vulnerable.

Once he made sure that the two Winchesters were okay, he stepped over to the window and looked for Dean. He wasn't surprised to see the boy sitting on the porch, staring down at the ground. Still not wanting to push the kid too hard, Bobby decided to leave Dean alone for the time being.

Making his way back into the living room, Bobby sat down in the other arm chair and closed his eyes. He hadn't slept much at all in the last few days, but he wouldn't let himself fall asleep. He needed to stay awake in case John or the boys needed him.

Knowing he was more than likely going to fall asleep if he sat for too long, Bobby pulled himself out of the chair and went into the kitchen to make some more coffee. He had been relying on the caffeine to keep him awake and it had been working, except for the fact that his whole body felt like it was in a constant state of trembling alertness. Maybe he should lay off the coffee a little. Or maybe not.

Just as the coffee finished brewing, Bobby heard some noises coming from the living room. Quickly heading back into the living room, he saw that Sam was waking up. The boy was trying to sit up in the chair and was looking around him in confusion. Bobby knew that he was most likely looking for his brother.

"Hey, kiddo…. Feel better after your nap?"

"Hi, Uncle Bobby," Sam answered with a yawn. "Where's Dean?"

"He's sitting outside on the porch. Feel like going out there and seeing what he's up to?"

"Okay," Sam said as he climbed down out of the chair.

"See if you can get him to do something fun, Sam, okay? And don't forget your jacket."

Sam grabbed the jacket he had been wearing while at Bobby's, since he had left his coat at school the day they left. It was a little too big for him, but it was definitely better than just a sweatshirt. Bobby watched as he struggled to put the jacket on and opened the door. Stepping over to the open door, Bobby watched as Sam ran over to where his brother was sitting. He didn't miss the way Dean's eyes lit up at the sight of his little brother.

Stepping out onto the porch, Bobby reminded Dean and Sam that they needed to stay in the yard. Without another word, he stepped back into the house to take care of John Winchester.

It was almost another full day before John started showing signs of truly waking up. In that time frame, Bobby had yelled at Dean three times, yelled at Sam twice, and sent both boys to their room with several smacks to their backsides once. Both boys were falling apart in front of his eyes.

The last issue came about when, in complete exhaustion, Dean finally snapped. He and Sam had been playing a board game on the floor next to John, both boys bickering more and more frequently as the game went on. Dean and Sam were both fairly competitive, but Bobby had noticed that more often than not, Dean would allow his little brother to win. Not this time, though. Whether it was because he was too tired to really put much effort into letting his brother win or because he himself wanted to win, Dean was winning and Sam was not happy.

"You're cheating!" Sam yelled, not for the first time.

"No, I'm not," Dean yelled back. "I don't cheat!"

"Yes, you do! You always cheat!"

"No, I don't! Shut up, Sammy!"

"Hey," Bobby yelled from the kitchen. "What's going on in there?"

"Nothing, Uncle Bobby," Dean called back. "Sammy's just being an idjit!"

"Dean's calling me names, Uncle Bobby," Sammy cried.

Bobby made his way into the living room, drying his hands on a kitchen towel. "What are you two arguing about?" he asked. Immediately, both boys started talking at once.

"Dean's cheating!"

"Sammy called me a cheater!"

"Boys!" Bobby yelled when Sam and Dean started yelling at each other again. "That's enough!"

Neither Sam nor Dean stopped yelling, though. Instead, they just started yelling even louder and eventually Dean leaned forward and pushed Sam. Sam started crying, but leaned forward and punched Dean in the nose. Seconds later, Bobby found himself having to physically pull the brothers off of each other.

"Knock it off!" he bellowed as he held onto the arms of both boys. "What has gotten into you two?"

Dean and Sam both stopped struggling against Bobby's hold for a few seconds before starting up again. Without a second thought, Bobby let go of Sam's arm and landed three solid smacks to Dean's backside. The boy immediately stopped moving, watching in horror as Bobby did the same thing to his little brother. Once Sam had settled, too, Bobby pointed at each boy in turn.

"Now, both of you knock it off. Your daddy doesn't need the two of you acting like hooligans just ten feet away from where he's resting."

Bobby could tell that Dean was embarrassed at having been spanked. And Sam was always devastated for the same thing. Both boys looked up at him with sad eyes and it was almost more than he could take.

"You boys get on upstairs. You're spending the rest of the afternoon in your room. And I better not hear anymore fighting, you hear me?"

"Yes, sir," Sam answered sadly.

"Dean?"

"I don't wanna go upstairs," Dean answered firmly. "I wanna stay with Dad."

"Do as you're told, boy, or you and I are gonna have a little chat with my wooden spoon," Bobby said gruffly, his frustration peaking. He had had occasion to use his trusty old wooden spoon a time or two in the past with Dean and he knew how much the boy hated it. He wasn't surprised when the willful determination in Dean's eyes faded to acceptance of being sent to his room.

Dean stepped away from Bobby and gently took Sam by the hand, leading him to the stairs. Just as they were about to start up the stairs, he turned and looked back at Bobby.

"Uncle Bobby?"

Before he could continue, Bobby stopped him. "I promise to let you know if anything changes, Dean," he said quietly. "Now go on."

He watched until the boys made it up the stairs and turned the corner before he turned himself back toward the living room. He had been in the middle of fixing dinner, but he wanted to check on John again before going back to the kitchen.

Walking over to the couch where John had been laying for the last several days, Bobby was surprised to see the man's eyes open. "John?" he said as he bent down to check the man's pulse. "You're awake!"

John looked around for several long seconds as if he was trying to remember where he was and what had happened. Eventually, his eyes landed back on Bobby's and he tried to sit up.

"Hold on, just stay there, okay? You're pretty busted up, John. Don't do too much or you'll pull on your stitches."

John smacked his lips together a few times, trying to work up some moisture in his mouth. Bobby quickly leaned over and grabbed the glass of water that Sam had been drinking. Helping the man to sit up slightly, he held the glass to his lips. "Go slow, John. Don't make yourself sick."

John took several small sips before he started coughing a little. Once he got his breathing back under control, he finally tried to speak. "Where…."

"You're at my home," Bobby answered, thinking John was asking where he was.

"No…. my boys…..where are they?"

"They're upstairs, John. They're safe."

"I need….to….see them," he said breathlessly.

"I'll call them down in a few minutes, okay? You need to get your bearings a little first."

John relaxed back into the couch, groaning in pain as he did. "I'll get you something for the pain, okay? I'll be right back."

Bobby turned and left to get the first aid kit while John laid back and tried to catalogue his injuries. By the time Bobby had returned, he had worked himself up into a state of agitation.

"What the hell, Bobby?!" he growled. "Get this damn catheter out of me! Now!"

Bobby laughed at the look on John's face. "Hey! Calm down, Winchester! What was I supposed to do? Let you pee all over my couch? You've been out for almost five days!"

John looked surprised at that, obviously not realizing that he had been out for so long. "Well, get it out right now! I'm not going to pee on your couch now that I'm awake."

"Maybe we should leave it in a little longer, John," Bobby tried to reason. "You're pretty weak right now."

John glared at his friend. "It's not staying in a minute longer, Singer. I mean it! Get it out or I'll yank it myself!"

Bobby laughed, but he started assembling what he needed to pull the catheter out. A minute later, it was out and John was feeling much more human. And of course, a much more human-feeling, alert John Winchester quickly grew into a royal pain in the butt.

"I need a shower," he stated suddenly as he tried to throw his legs to the floor. "Help me up!"

Bobby tried to reason with the man, but knew it was more than likely a lost cause. With one last trick up his sleeve to try to keep the man on the couch, Bobby brought up the boys. "John, we've all been really worried about you. Especially Dean. What do you say we call them down here so they can see for themselves that you're okay? Then I'll see about helping you get cleaned up."

"I don't need your help, Singer."

"Yeah, you do. And the sooner you realize that, the better off you'll be. Now, stay here while I go get the boys."

John sank back against the couch again, knowing when he had lost the battle. He listened as Bobby made his way to the stairs and he suddenly found himself extremely anxious to see his sons.

Sam and Dean were both laying on their beds, curled up on their sides. Bobby's smacks weren't particularly painful, but they did leave a bit of a sting behind. Sam was still crying a little and Dean suddenly felt guilty for letting his little brother get into trouble. Rolling off of his bed, he stepped over to Sam's and crawled in next to the boy. "I'm sorry for pushing you like that, Sammy," he said.

"I'm sorry for punching you in the nose, Dean. Is it okay?"

"It's fine," Dean laughed. "You barely got me."

Sam curled up into Dean's chest, playing with the strings on the front of his hoodie. "Dean? When is Daddy gonna wake up? I miss him."

"I miss him, too, Sam. And I think he's gonna wake up real soon." Dean didn't really think that their dad was going to wake up soon. In fact, he thought the man might never wake up. But, he wasn't going to tell his little brother that. No, Sammy didn't need to worry about that right now. "Since we're stuck up here for the afternoon, do you wanna play I Spy? Or I could read you a story."

"A story!" Sam answered right away. "But I want you to make up one."

Dean groaned, knowing that Sam was going to say that. His little brother always liked the stories Dean made up more that the stories in any book. Dean thought for several minutes to come up with some story ideas. "Okay, do you want a story about a pig who got stuck in a hole? Or a squirrel who broke into the peanut factory?"

"The squirrel!" Sam laughed. "I love squirrels!"

Dean pulled Sam in closer to his chest and started his story. "There once was a squirrel named Twitchy who was really, really hungry. He was so hungry that he dreamed all day and all night of finding the biggest, bestest collection of nuts in the whole world….."

Sam listened for as long as he could before he finally fell asleep. Dean wasn't too far behind him, but just before he finally dozed off, the door opened and Bobby stood in the doorway with a strange look on his face.

"Uncle Bobby? What's wrong?"

Bobby suddenly grinned. "Your daddy's awake, Dean. He woke up about fifteen minutes ago."

Dean started to jump out of bed, but Bobby stopped him. "Whoa! Wait a minute, kid. Don't wake your brother up just yet, okay? I think maybe your dad needs to only be bombarded with one of you at a time."

Dean looked over at Sam who was still sound asleep. Moving easier, he pulled himself out of the bed and followed Bobby downstairs. Just before they reached the bottom, Bobby stopped. "Dean, your dad's been through a lot and he's still nursing a lot of injuries. Go easy on him, okay?"

Dean nodded, not trusting himself to speak just yet. Stepping into the living room, he made himself walk slowly over to the couch, his eyes never leaving his father's pale face.

"Dad?" Dean said in a near whisper.

"Hey, Dean," John answered, smiling up at his oldest son. "Come here…."

Without hesitating, Dean threw himself into his father's arms, forgetting that the man was still injured. Bobby harrumphed over by the door, but other that the small "oof" that John let out when Dean landed on him, John didn't mind it. He was just happy to have one of his boys in his arms.

And Dean was more than happy to have his dad back.

Author's note: Sorry for the long wait. I haven't had a whole lot of time to write lately, it seems. I hope this chapter somewhat makes up for the wait.

Thanks so much for reading. I would love to hear your thoughts. And in case you're interested, I started another story called Raising Winchesters. I'd be honored if you all gave it a try.