Safety-Frog asks: For Whumptober, John with prompt #3, impaled?

Characters: John, Scott

Warnings: Impaled, Tornado, Hospital mention

The house was dilapidated. It stood alone on the edge of town. Everyone said it was haunted.

John stared up at the gates.

It was a rite of passage for every child in town on their entrance into the teen years. He knew that Scott had done before he had turned thirteen. John knew because he had come with him but had been too scared to enter himself. Scott had come back with a fork from the kitchen, claiming that it was more than appropriate.

Ironically John had been so proud of him. Scott had made John promise not to do the ritual himself, and he had readily agreed.

But that was eighteen months ago. Today John was another person.

Through the gate, into the house and stay at least an hour. Pick up a souvenir. That was the rules.

He glanced up at the sky. He didn't like the colour and he wanted to abandon the dare, but today was the day. Dad and Mom had taken the three youngest out and Scott was at Rescue Scouts for the day. They thought that John was with a friend from Math club.

Next week it was John's thirteenth. Today was the only day he could wrangle on his own.

He slipped through the gate and crept up to the door. The wind blew suddenly and he shivered, clasping tightly the keyring Scott had given him as his birthday present last year. It was the Earth, a tumbled piece of Lapis Lazuli with hints of gold. It gave him strength.

The house was similar in design to many in town, and John took one look at the stairs to know he wasn't going any further than the kitchen. He sat cross-legged under the table, a rusty old spoon in his hand and his phone on the floor in front of him counting down the hour.

John had no intention of being here a second longer than he needed to be.

The wind was increasing in strength. The building was rattling. John hugged his knees. This was not good.

Not good.

The shrill ringing of the phone made him jump up and hit his head on the table. Cursing, he reached to answer, knowing that if he didn't whoever was on the other end would worry.

It was Scott. Scott would definitely worry. John took a deep breath so that he could talk steadily. Scott's lie-detector was better than their Mom's.

'Scott? Aren't you supposed to be camping?'

'Camping? Johnny, where are you?'

'What do you mean?'

'There's a tornado warning.'

'Oh.'

'John? John, where are you?'

'Wha-what do you mean?'

'If you were with Arum like you said, you'd already know. Where the hell are you?'

'T-t-tornado?'

'JOHN! Where are you?'

'I-I'm at the house!'

'What? No you're not – I'm home and you're not here.'

'Not that house!'

John could feel Scott's silence.

'STAY WHERE YOU ARE.'

He could do that. He could definitely stay where he was. He could absolutely stay still while the house creaked and groaned around him.

Something crashed upstairs, startling John again, and before he was even aware of it he was out of the house and running. The winds were horrific, pulling him this way and that, and then something slammed into him.

They rolled in the dirt aways, eventually coming to a stop at the bottom of the drive against the gates. Scott hauled John to his feet and they set off, not to home, but around the side of the house. His brother didn't give him the opportunity to even find his feet, just dragging him forward until they reached a familiar set of doors.

Even after all the time the house had been empty the doors still opened, and Scott almost threw John down the stairs and leapt on top of him after securing the doors. They shared a tight hug for a moment before Scott helped John to his feet.

Only – John couldn't stay on his feet.

With a gasp, clutching his brother's forearms, John's knees buckled and Scott helped him to the floor.

'S-S-Scott?'

'John! John, what is it?'

'Ca-can't breath.'

Using his phone's torch, Scott looked over his brother. He opened his brother's coat…and gasped.

There was a rusty spoon sticking in John's side.

'Sh**, John. Where did you get a rusty spoon from?'

'It-it's my souvenir.'

'Ok, you just concentrate on breathing. This – this is going to hurt.'

Scott pulled off his hoodie and bundled it up, pressing it tightly against the injury but mindful of the spoon. He ignored John's screams, sitting astride him to try and keep John as still as possible. He might only be 13, but thanks to the Rescue Scouts he knew what to do.

John passed out quite quickly under the pressure, but Scott kept it up. He held the makeshift compress down with one hand while he dialled his Dad with the other.

'Scott? What's wrong?'

'Are you and Mom safe?'

'Yes we are. Are you?'

'Yes. I'm with John.'

'John? John should be with Arum?'

'It's a long story, Dad, but we need an ambulance. John's hurt.'

'It's just sounded the all-clear. You call an ambulance and your Mom and I will meet you at the hospital.'

'Ok, Dad. We'll see you there.'

The ambulance came quickly and whisked them away, allowing Scott to ride with John. He watched as they carefully worked on his brother. They wouldn't let him into the emergency treatment room with John, and he found himself pacing until he was suddenly crushed by his Dad's arms around him. Scott told them what had happened.

It took a few hours, but eventually they were shown to a room where John was asleep. The doctor explained that the wound had not been very deep, that John had been lucky. Rather than piercing his lung, the spoon had pushed one of his ribs out of place just enough that it was pressing on the lobe. No breaks, nothing more than bruised ribs and a puncture which had been stitched.

A night in the hospital, three-six weeks of complete rest, and John would be fine.

Jeff and the doctor disappeared to fill in paperwork and the family settled down to wait. Scott sat by the door, a position that was highly unusual for the eldest. Lucy worried that something more was going on. In normal times Scott would be beside John, holding one hand, but her eldest could barely look at his brother in the bed.

Sitting Virgil in her place, and giving him Gordon to hold, she went to sit beside her eldest. Scott sat stiffly beside her but he didn't resist when she pulled him into a hug.

'You did well, Scott. You saved John.'

'No. No I didn't.'

'Honey? What's wrong?'

'I – I hurt him. I didn't know he had that spoon and I ploughed into him and it…I hurt him.'

'Scott. It wasn't your fault. If you hadn't have called John we could have lost him completely.'

Lucy knew that Scott wouldn't feel better until John was awake, and that even then he would still blame himself, it was his way. Time would be the only healer, that and John. As the door opened and Jeff entered, he frowned to see Scott and Lucy entwined by the door. She smiled and inclined her head to Scott, and Jeff slipped into her place while she returned to Virgil, plucking a now-asleep Gordon off his lap.

Jeff had somehow wrangled for Scott to stay with Lucy overnight and he took the boys home for the night.

Scott and Lucy spent the night side by side. She dropped off quicker than her son, but she was gratified when she woke in the early morning to find Scott asleep, head on his brother's bed. John was gently running his fingers through his brother's hair.

John smiled at her, and Lucy sighed.

Her eldest two would be fine.