Author's note: Hey y'all I'm back with another story.

I found this prompt on Livejournal Spnstoryfinders but couldn't, for the life of me, find the fic. So I decided to take the idea and write it according to how I imagined the story would go.

Disclaimer: The prompt and idea of this fic aren't mine, and I don't own them. I just saw them and liked them enough to write the story. That, and I couldn't find the story. If the owner of this fic's idea finds this, please feel free to contact me via PM.

Disclaimer 2: I don't own Supernatural or any of its characters.

This story has characters borrowed from Ridley's and Tidia's brotherhood au.

Thank you, once again, to Meilean for helping me edit and perfect this story.

Sam: 16, Dean: 20, Caleb: 28, Joshua:28

Spn

There were many moments when Caleb Reaves felt like punching John Winchester square in the face, but nothing beat this moment. The two were facing each other in the middle of Jim's living room, having a shouting match about the upcoming hunt.

"John, we're not even sure the monster is a Djinn, how the heck are we supposed to head out to the hunt?"

The Winchester patron huffed out a breath "What part of there's only a one percent chance of it not being a Djinn do you not understand?"

Caleb glared at him "Well one percent is good enough for me to put my breaks up. Besides, you're the one that always says not to go into a hunt half cocked and without being sure what you're hunting."

"Caleb, this thing is killing people, innocent people, do you really want to leave it be until you're certain because of a one percent chance?" John asked through gritted teeth.

"Fine John, forget the one percent chance. Are you willing to go on this hunt and leave your sick kid alone?" Caleb asked, his gaze flitting to the obviously sick boy lying on the couch underneath three blankets, shivering from the fever that was evident through the red splotches on his cheeks.

Sam had fallen sick to an unknown stomach virus yesterday at night. The boy had retired to bed early, a thing he never does, which raised some suspicions from his older brothers. An hour later, Caleb being the psychic that he was, felt several emotions coming from upstairs that had him bolting towards Sam who was the only one up and was feeling miserable and in pain. The psychic had found Sam being violently sick in the toilet bowl while sobbing from the pain that vomiting caused.

They brought Sam down and triaged him and a diagnosis of a nasty stomach virus was made. He stayed up all night being sick and shivering from the fever chills. His older brothers stayed with him comforting the sick boy, dosing him with medication, and rubbing his back when he threw up.

It was around noon now and Sam was not doing better, which was why Dean, Caleb, and Joshua agreed to fight against going on the hunt to stay with him. But it looked like John wasn't going to back down.

"He won't be alone Caleb, Jim's staying with him. And Mac will be here in a couple of hours to examine and take care of him." John said.

Dean, who was standing at the head of the couch with a hand on his little brother's head, had stayed quiet throughout the whole conversation as did Joshua. But the two couldn't keep quiet anymore.

"And what happens if he gets worse dad? What happens, if his fever becomes untreatable here that he has to be taken to the hospital while we're in the middle of the hunt with no service?" Dean asked his father.

"Dean's right John, now you might not care but we do." Joshua added.

"Enough!" John yelled, causing the lightly dozing Sam to startle, then close his eyes and drift back into an uneasy sleep.

"You three are coming with me and that's final. Or do I need to remind you about who had the authority here?" John said, eyes glinting dangerously.

The three young men glared at him, "No sir."

John nodded "Good, now go gear up. We're heading out now."

Once they left, John knelt in front of Sam. His heart broke at the idea of leaving his child when he was sick, but he knew it had to be done. Carding his hand through his son's long honey brown locks, John leaned forward and whispered "You get better tiger. I love you."

Allowing himself one last glance at Sam, John bounded out the door to begin the inventory and weapons check.

Five minutes later found Caleb, Joshua and Dean kneeling around the sofa telling a now awake Sam goodbye.

"Promise you'll come back?" Sam croaked, his throat sore and rough from all the vomiting.

Dean squeezed his hand "We promise."

"You just focus on getting better," Caleb added.

"And remember what we taught you, milk your sickness and you'll have the old man at your hands and feet," Joshua told him.

"The old man can hear you," Jim drawled lazily, not taking his eyes off the lore book he was reading on the armchair next to the couch.

"Right sorry old man, anyways we have to go. You take care Sammy," Caleb said as he placed his hand tenderly on Sam's cheek then frowned and palmed his forehead.

"Jim, he's really hot. I think he needs another dose of meds," Caleb said worriedly.

Jim put the book down "He isn't due for another dose until 2:30."

Dean glanced down at his watch and sighed when he saw that it had run out of batteries "How long until 2:30?" he asked.

"30 minutes." Joshua reported the time as he checked his wristwatch.

"Maybe we should wait around until then." Dean suggested as he glanced at Sam worriedly.

"Don't worry my boys, I've got him. Now go before John has an aneurysm from waiting," Jim told them, smiling as he saw them bound out the door, albeit reluctantly.

The bond between Sam, Dean, Caleb, and Joshua never ceased to amaze The Guardian. The four were closer than anybody Jim had ever seen. Caleb and Joshua had embraced Sam and Dean as their little brothers the minute the Winchesters stepped into their life. Over the years, the four brothers managed to weave a close knit family made out of them, John, Jim, Mac, and Bobby.

That's why he wasn't surprised at all, that instead of the boys being eager to go on the hunt with John just as they usually were, they didn't want to go. Not with their littlest brother so sick and miserable, and bound to get worse because Sam's immune system wasn't as strong as the rest of them.

The pastor also noted how Sam seemed to deflate even further on the couch when the door slammed shut, and the absence of his big brothers now registered with the sixteen year old. He decided to distract the boy.

"Sammy, I got this book I've been meaning to check out. Steve McAllen gave it to me last time he visited. Do you want to take a look?" Jim asked, smiling at the way Sam's eyes lit up. If there was another thing that Jim admired, it was Sam's thirst and love for knowledge and learning.
The boy had read all the books in Jim's house at least twice, although sometimes it was driven by boredom especially when he was sometimes left behind alone at Jim's while his family went on hunts.

"Yes ple…." Sam said in a hoarse voice, then winced and closed his mouth and resorted to nodding vigorously.

Jim helped Sam into a sitting position, placing pillows behind his back as the teen was still too weak to sit up unassisted. He then placed the book in Sam's lap, ruffled his hair, and went to prepare some soup and crackers for Sam to eat.

As soon as Sam opened the book, he immediately became engrossed in its contents. After leafing through the pages, Sam discovered that it was about uncommon monsters, such as Baba Yaga, Bahamut, Preta, and other kinds Sam hoped not to face.

After reading a couple of chapters, a name caught his eye. Scrolling through the text and pictures, the blood drained from his face as his brain made a connection. The victims, way of killing, and setting matched the hunt his family went on, not twenty five minutes ago. Heart pounding wildly, Sam continued reading and realized that the monster his family was hunting was not a Djinn at all. It was something else entirely.

Just then, the boy who was too weak to sit up on his own flung back the covers and bolted to the kitchen, almost knocking Jim over who was balancing a tray with a bowl of soup and some crackers on it.

"Sam! What's going on?" Jim asked, alarmed.

"Uncle Jim… They… The hunt… The monster," Sam spluttered, breathing hard and unable to convey the message.

Jim carried the tray in one hand and placed the other on Sam's shoulders,steering him to the couch. "Come on tiger, calm down and tell me what's wrong." Jim stroked the boy's hair in an attempt to calm him. He didn't like his nephew's pale complexion or his heavy breathing.

Sam struggled to catch his breath for a second due to his wildly beating heart. Finally, he managed to calm down a bit then turned his soulful hazel green eyes to the pastor.

"Uncle Jim, the monster they're hunting isn't a Djinn. It's a Black Annis. Look," Sam said as he placed the book in Jim's hands.

The Guardian paled as he read the text. "Oh dear Lord," he muttered, then jumped to the phone and spent the better of five minutes trying to call different numbers.

Finally, one of them picked up.

"Mackland! Thank the Lord. How far out are you?" Jim all but yelled into the phone.

"About five minutes. Why? What's wrong? Is it Sammy?" Mac's worried voice came.

"No Sam's the same. I'm calling because John and the boys set out to hunt the Djinn. Turns out it's not a Djinn, it's a Black Annis."

Mac paused on the line before speaking. "I'll follow them, send me the coordinates. Oh and Jim, tell Sammy to stay put. I know he'll try to follow them but with his condition, he could get sicker."

"Will do, take care Mackland. And God be with you"

As Jim hung up, he returned to the living room to see the tortured expression on Sam's face and the uneaten food still on the tray. Sitting on the edge of the couch by Sam's feet, he reached forward and grasped Sam's hand to comfort the clearly distraught and sick teen.

"Sammy, tiger, I talked to Mac. He's going to follow them. But you need to take care of yourself and eat. Focus on getting better until your father and brothers come home." Jim spoke soothingly.

To his surprise, Sam didn't argue back, but nodded and took the bowl of soup from Jim and started eating slowly.

Chalking Sam's compliant behavior up to his exhaustion and fever, Jim smiled and patted the boy's blanket covered feet. "Good boy."

After eating half the bowl of soup and one cracker, Sam placed the bowl down, having reached the end of his stomach's endurance.

"I'll go get your meds. Get some rest tiger," Jim said as he palmed Sam's hot forehead.

As soon as Jim was out of sight, Sam got up from the couch, pulled on his jacket and shoes then slipped out the door soundlessly. The food he had eaten had given him some energy, even if it wasn't sitting in his stomach very comfortably. But that and the fear for his family were enough to cut through his pain and tiredness and drive him off the couch.

He headed to Caleb's car, which the psychic had left behind since he had ridden in the Impala with John and the others. Sam had the insight to grab the keys to the car. Turning it on, he took a deep breath to quell the nausea rising from his stomach and stop the dizziness and chill from his rising fever then took off to find his family. Caleb has a first aid kit somewhere in the car that had Tylenol, he could take some on the road.

Back in the house, Jim returned to the living room with Sam's medicines and a glass of water. His blood froze when he saw the empty couch and discarded blankets.

"Sam?" he called out when he noticed a piece of paper on the tray of food. Picking it up, he read the short message on it, Sam's neat scrawl recognizable.

Uncle Jim,

I'm sorry for leaving. I just couldn't sit around doing nothing. I hope you can understand. I'll bring them back safely.

Sam

The pastor let the paper slip from his grasp then he felt something he only felt when one of the four youngest members of their family were in danger.

Ice cold fear.

Spn

Lemme know what y'all think.