Chapter 2

"Look…" Abigail paused, unsure of the man's name in front of her.

"John."

"John, we can do this the easy way, or we can do it the hard way. There are three security guards there who want to look out for your son's well-being as much as I do. So either you put him down and back away from him, or they make you put him down and take you out of this hospital."

John sighed and hugged his boy more tightly. "Sammy…"

"No! Daddy, I want to stay with you. I'll be good, I promise. I won't fight with Dean anymore, and I won't do anything that gets him hurt." Sam paused, trying to remember the story he had come up with. "I didn't mean to get him hurt, we were just messing around. I know we were supposed to come home right after school, but…"

"Shh, Sammy. This isn't your fault, and I don't know what's going on, but you need to go with this lady I think, so that I can check up on your brother." John paused as a little more realization settled in.

He turned back to the social worker and lowered his boy to the ground, stepping protectively in front of him. "Wait a minute. Just what are you implying, Miss? Why are you taking him anywhere?"

"Well, for one thing, your son looks like he's been the punching bag for someone much larger than him. For another, it's November, and he was wearing a long sleeved shirt when he came in. I want to ask him some more questions, and see what's going to be in his best interests."

"Sammy, where are your jacket and sweatshirt?" John looked more concerned at this new revelation.

"I put my jacket on Dean when he got hurt so he wouldn't get cold. I think I left my sweatshirt in the coat closet at school. I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Sammy. You can get it tomorrow."

Abby looked skeptical. "You put your jacket…on your brother?"

"Yeah. I was scared he'd get cold before I could get him here." Sam hid more fully behind his father, gripping a jacket pocket with his good hand. "Daddy, I don't want to go with her. I want to see Dean. When can I see Dean?"

"Soon, Sammy. We just need to clear some things up first. Okay?" John watched carefully as the security guards began to make their way towards him. He looked up at Abigail. "If I let you talk to my Sammy, can I at least go see my other son, so when you apologize for this mess in a little while I can tell this one that his brother's going to be just fine?"

"You can look in on him and talk to his doctors, but you are not allowed in the room with him until I say so. Is that understood?"

"You're gonna keep me from both of my sons?"

"Until I know that they're safe with you; yes. Now I've said it before. We can agree on this or these gentlemen can take you out of here and then you won't know how your sons are until I'm done. What's it going to be?"

John glared at the woman before nodding slowly. Any other time he would have grabbed the boys and run, made new identities for them and forgotten the incident, never to hear from this woman again, but he knew that he couldn't get both boys safely away with Dean hurt, so he had to submit. He pulled Sam around to face him. "Samuel; you have to go with her right now, there's nothing I can do about it. I'm going to check on your brother and then we'll go home as soon as we can, all right? I want you to be good for her and don't give her any more lip, and then this will all be over." John pulled the boy close and kissed the top of his head.

Sam didn't understand why his big, bad, afraid of nothing father was letting this happen and launched forward to clutch his neck, tears flowing down his cheeks. He felt John pull him away and heard his father sniffle, but he couldn't be concerned about that when he felt Abigail lifting him up and starting to walk away. He struggled and squirmed until she had to put him down or risk dropping him, but she never let go of his arm. Staring back at his father, heartbroken, Sam felt himself being dragged away.

Sam sat Indian style on the chair facing the social worker. His eyes were in slits and he continued to stare out the door behind her. She had been trying to get the boy's attention for close to an hour now, but he wasn't going to let this woman get to him. At the moment, he wasn't sure who he was more angry at; this woman for guessing that his father was hurting him, the doctor for suspecting it first, his father for letting her take him away, or Dean for getting hurt trying to protect him in the first place. He didn't know what else to think, but each question was making him more and more angry.

Finally, Sam snapped. "What? What do you want to know? Do you want me to tell you that my father hits me? Because he doesn't. He's never laid a hand on me, or Dean either. He's never spanked us or anything like that. He barely even grounds us unless we really deserve it. He usually just sits us down in a chair and gives us this look like he's wicked disappointed in us and tells us why whatever we did was wrong. Okay? That's all! Dean and I were wrestling today. We fell down a hill and Dean threw me out of the way so that I wouldn't get hurt more. That's probably why it looks like someone grabbed onto my arm or whatever it was that you thought. Now I want to go see my brother, and I want to see my father, and I never want to see you again!" Sam huffed and looked up to the woman to see if that had done any good.

Abigail tried to be understanding of the boy's frustration. After all, she had seen hundreds of cases like this, where the child was overly defensive because he was afraid. She wanted to break through those walls and help him, but something was confusing her; she didn't see any fear in the boy's eyes, just pure loathing that was directed at her. She wouldn't be able to get through to him like this.

"All right, Sam. I'm going to go check on your brother for you and I'll be right back. There's a security guard outside the door, so I don't want you to try and leave here, do you understand me?"

Sam just looked away from her and crossed his arms more tightly across his chest. He was still shirtless despite Abigail's best efforts to get him to warm up, and the goose bumps on his arms weren't helping his resolve. He watched her get up from the desk and walk out the door.

As soon as she left, Sam started looking around the room; he wasn't staying here for any longer than was necessary, even if it meant trying to take on the Rent-A-Cop outside. Unfortunately, there wasn't much that the ten-year old could use. His eyes lit up when he saw the cupboard, however. That could work.

Outside, the middle aged man sat hunched over the chair, his hands tangled in his hair to keep him upright. There wasn't much to watching a closed door, and the guard barely paid attention. That was, until he heard the choking and gut wrenching sobs coming from inside the door. Heart strings were pulled at as he thought of his eight-year old son at home, and he couldn't just sit by and listen. That was what Sam was counting on.

As soon as the door opened, Sam stopped, held his breath, and peered out the door. Predictably, the man kept coming in, not understanding how the sounds he had heard could have stopped so suddenly. From his hiding place, the boy just shook his head; adults could be so predictable. When the guard was far enough into the room, peering behind the desk to see if a small boy was hiding there, Sam made his move, bolting out from the cupboard and racing for the door. Once outside, he ignored the man's shouts and jammed the chair under the door. Giggling for the first time since the whole ordeal started, Sam set out in search of his brother.

He wasn't hard to find. The room that Sam had originally been taken to had several guards posted outside of it, and he had to backtrack before he was spotted. He remembered that there were two doors to the room and he sought another way in. He found it easily enough, but was dismayed to see more guards standing there; he should have figured as much. Sam ducked into a darkened room and swung the door more shut, hiding behind it. Making sure that no one was going to sneak up behind him, Sam cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted for help. His father had taught him how to throw his voice and make it sound like he was moving, and he reminded himself to thank him later when the guards went rushing by.

Sam didn't wait to count his blessings, just bolted out the door and towards Dean's room. Quietly, he pushed the door open and ducked inside. He had to jump behind the nearest curtain when he saw Abigail coming through the huge glass window and bided his time. She never came in, merely glanced in the window and then turned and left. Sam let out the breath he was holding and peeked around the cloth.

"Dean," he whispered. "Dean, are you awake?" Sam was rewarded with a groan and called out to his brother again. "Dean, I need help, wake up."

Dean's eyes shot open and he looked around, sure that he had heard his baby brother. He groaned again and clutched his ribs. He felt like they were on fire.

"Dean, please?"

That time, the teenager was sure that he had heard Sam. "Sammy, where are you?"

"Down here. Are you okay?"

The sight was comical; his kid brother was lying on the floor, looking up at him from under the curtain that closed off his bed area. "What are you doing down there? And I'm fine."

Sam looked at him with one eyebrow raised, but let him be. "I'm hiding from the mean old lady that thinks Daddy's hurting us. She doesn't want me to see you."

Dean was instantly out of the bed, pulling the IV from his hand and crouching down to pull his brother into a hug; he could see the fear in the boy's eyes that Abigail couldn't find. Sam was terrified of being separated from his family. When he stood up again, gripping the broken ribs tightly, he pulled Sam up with him. "No one's going to take you away, Sammy. Do you understand me? I promise. Now, what…do they think…happened?"

"We were wrestling after school…up on that hill behind my school. We went over the edge and you pushed me out of the way so I wouldn't get hurt. I know it's lame, but I had to think fast."

"It's great Sammy, is Dad here yet?" Dean saw the dark shadows that passed over his brother's face. "What is it?"

"He let her take me."

Dean sighed; he could guess that their father had no choice, he had dealt with nosy hospital workers before, but Sam hadn't.

"I'm sure he didn't want to, Sammy. We'll fix it, okay?"

"I thought I told you to stay put, young man."

Dean felt Sam tense up and instinctively stepped in front of him, turning to face his brother's tormentor. He still had a few inches on his brother, enough that he could hide the boy behind him still; feel like he could protect him from every evil that came to get him. "Who the Hell are you?"

"You must be Dean. I'm Doctor Abigail Malloth; I'm a social worker here at the hospital."

"Social worker, hunh? Didn't they teach you that scaring ten-year old boys doesn't give you a very good rapport with their older brothers?"

"I'm not trying to scare him, just trying to find out the truth. I'm looking out for him, and you."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Our father looks out for us well enough. And I look out for Sammy. We don't need you to butt into our lives."

"I just want to make sure everything's okay with your family, Dean. That's all." She took a step forward and tried to place a hand on his shoulder. Dean took a step back quickly; making sure Sam went with him.

"Make sure everything's okay with my family? My family's just fine, Doctor. We do well enough on our own; its people like you who screw families up."

"Look, son…"

"I'm not your son. My mother's dead." Dean growled at the woman.

"Dean. I just want to know what happened today. You and your brother look pretty beat up; your brother wasn't dressed appropriately for the weather, and we couldn't reach your father. We all just want to make sure everything is all right."

"Everything was fine until you barged in here, pretending like you know anything about my family, scared my little brother so badly that he's shaking, and probably gave my father a nervous breakdown. We may not leave the perfect American lifestyle, but my father does the best he can by us. He makes sure we're safe, and well cared for, and he's there if we need him. He's been our Mom and our Dad for the past ten years, and he's made damn sure that we grow up healthy, safe, and protected. Now, why can't you just leave us alone?" Dean's voice was growing darker by the moment, his volume raising until he was almost yelling, and sounding far more dangerous than any fourteen-year old should know how to be.

Abigail's voice could be just as dark and her patience was wearing thin with the Winchester boys. "You need to calm down. I take my job very seriously, and I have experience on my side. Now you boys both look like you've been run through the gauntlet, and I intend to find out just how it happened. Your brother's arm looks like someone took it and lifted him up by it before breaking it, and you both look like human punching bags…" She paused when she realized that she was in a shouting match with a teenager. "I just want to help."

"You aren't doing anything but hurting. I don't know why my brother's arm looks like that. All I remember is grabbing him and throwing him out of the way of the tree that we were heading towards. If that bruised or broke his arm then I'm sorry. But…" Dean paused and whipped around. "Sammy, are you okay? Oh shit."

Dean had felt his brother tugging on his arm for only a moment before he turned to face him. He took in the terrified look his brother gave him and began to hear that Sam was having trouble breathing. Without thinking, he grabbed his brother and swung him up so he was sitting on the hospital bed. "It's okay, Sammy. We're not going to yell anymore and no one's going to take us away from Dad. Just breathe buddy. Keep your head down. Sammy…Sammy, come on little brother. It's all right, just calm down."

Sam couldn't see straight and he couldn't get any air through his lungs. All he knew was whatever they had gotten themselves into today was a much bigger problem than the monster that had gotten the drop on them. This woman was seriously talking about taking their father away from them, and Sam knew enough about people like that to know that she would probably try to take him away from Dean too. Spots danced in his vision and he could barely hear the words his brother was speaking. His shoulders hunched up and down and he could just hear himself squeaking over the ringing in his ears. Sam was sure that he couldn't have moved if he wanted to, he felt like his whole body was numb. The spots were starting to get bigger and darker, and he could feel the fear rising in him.

"Sam…Sammy, come on little brother, breathe for me. Move lady!" Dean physically pushed Abigail out of the way as she crowded forward; trying to see what was going on with the younger boy. She stepped back as she watched Dean push Sam's head further down between his shoulder blades and rubbed his back. She barely heard the commotion outside, but turned her head quickly when the door slammed open and the guards shouted. Abigail watched, almost detached, as John Winchester subdued the four guards standing with him and raced into the room.

"Sammy. Sammy it's all right now. Daddy's here, just relax. Breathe in, come on, you can do it, nothing's stopping you. That's it, just breathe, sport. I'm right here; no one can hurt you now. Shh." John climbed up onto the bed and sat back, pulling his youngest into his lap once more and rubbing slow circles on his back. He felt Sam's chest rise and fall more slowly, and could feel the boy falling into a light sleep. With his free arm, he pulled Dean close and hugged him tightly; protecting his little family with his embrace. Tortured eyes sought out Abigail, and suddenly all thoughts of separating this family fled her mind.

Maybe, just maybe, those boys had been telling the truth. Doctor Abigail Malloth simply nodded her head at the man, waved off the security guards coming to help her, and walked sullenly out the door.

The End.

Stay tuned for the epilogue...