Thanks to all of those who reviewed and I am so sorry for keeping everyone hanging for so long. And be warned, I might have to do weekly updates since I start back school Tuesday (sep. fifth), but it will be at least one chapter a week. So, I hope you like it, enjoy!

Everything Changes

Chapter Five

Previously:

Thinking fast, John pulled the gun from the back of his jeans, taking three shots at the creature, which all hit the chest of the being, before it could reach him or, more importantly, his boys.

But that didn't stop it. Regular rounds didn't work on what John realized it was.

A werewolf.

Shit.

"Boys, get to the car now!"

All three took off into a sprint, John dragging his boys with him, the werewolf gaining ground fast.

John suddenly felt the absence of one of his boy's hands from his own, stopping to look back over his shoulder. What he saw made his heart stop.

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The young boy ran with all his might, blood rushing through his ears, heart racing in his chest. He had to get back to the car. He had to make sure that his small family would be safe.

Suddenly, Sam felt his foot catch on something in the grass, causing the young boy to come crashing down on the hard ground face first. And then he heard his father's yell.

"Sammy!"

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John saw his baby boy, lying flat on his stomach, appearing to have tripped over a headstone covered in overgrowth, the matches and lighter fluid which he had been assigned to hold lay next to him, the werewolf on him in seconds.

The wolf pounced on the young hunter, forcing the boy onto his back before digging its claws deep within Sam's stomach.

When John heard his little boy scream in pain the only thought he had was to get him safe.

A moment later, John saw his eldest rush by him, running straight towards the werewolf.

…

Dean tried to pull the creature off of his brother, not caring about his own safety, but no matter how hard he tried to avert the wolf's attention to himself, nothing worked. Kicking, punching, nothing would deter it. It was as if it was only interested in Sam, continuing to slash the young boy, who had fallen unconscious.

Oh God.

The only upside of the whole situation was that it didn't seem to be interested in biting Sam, just tearing him into shreds.

…

John forced himself to act, knowing he had to get to the trunk, get to the gun that had silver bullets.

The elder hunter took off into a sprint, relieved he wasn't too far away already. Reaching the car, he ran around to the trunk, opening up the weapons case.

He grabbed the gun from its compartment, not bothering to shut anything before racing back into the graveyard.

…

As Dean continued his futile attempts to get the wolf away from Sam, he glanced around for his father, seeing him at the trunk of the car.

Sam was still unconscious, his blood pooling around him, staining the grass dark red.

It felt as if it had been an eternity since Sam had first fallen, but in reality it had been mere seconds. However, a lot had happened, and Dean worried that if they didn't kill the wolf soon, Sam could die.

…

John ran until he could clearly see the werewolf, which hadn't stopped its assault on Sam. Taking aim, he shot one bullet at the wolf's shoulder. This seemed to get its attention, causing it to rise away from Sam, giving John a clear shot at its heart.

Pulling back the trigger, John shot the rest of the bullets into the beast's heart, the werewolf falling on its side, away from Sam, dead. John rushed to his youngest son's side, pulling the boy's head into his lap. He felt Dean approach, kneeling beside him.

John took in his son's injuries. Sam had eight deep puncture wounds running across his stomach, all bleeding heavily. He also had four shallower gashes reaching from his left shoulder to the middle of his chest, and four long slashes across his left cheek which, besides looking ugly, weren't as bad as his stomach.

…

Dean looked up away from Sam, staring into his father's eyes as he searched over Sam, seeing something in them that he hadn't seen in a long time.

Tears.

…

John turned his attention to the body of the werewolf next to his son, which had reverted back to its human form. Deciding he didn't have time to properly dispose of it, he pulled it into the woods, covering it.

Returning to Sam's side, John reached down, pulling him into his arms, happy for once that he was so small for his age.

No matter how much John hated taking his sons to the hospital, he knew he had to. Sam had already lost too much blood, was too pale…

John hurried back to the car with Dean fast on his heels. When they reached the car, John carefully placed Sam in the backseat, stripping off his over-shirt, giving Dean instructions to place it over Sam's stomach wounds and apply pressure before getting in the driver's seat. John was intent on breaking every traffic law imaginable as long as it got him to the hospital soon.

…

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Archbold Memorial Hospital, One Hour Later

John sat in an uncomfortable, plastic chair in the hospital's waiting room, slumped forward with his head in his hands, defeated.

John had arrived at the local hospital after five minutes of speeding, rushing through the entrance yelling for help.

Doctors were upon him immediately, putting Sam on a stretcher after asking John for his name, carting him off behind a set of double doors.

A nurse came up to him, asking him what had happened, and John had to think of a proper lie fast. John had told her their real names, telling her that he had been going on a walk with his sons who wanted to check out the graveyard at night, and his youngest was attacked by a wild animal. The woman appeared to buy his story, nodding before she told him to go to the front desk to fill out some forms.

And now, an hour later, he sat, waiting. Dean had yet to utter a single word, but John could see in the boy's eyes that he was beating himself up. John understood that Dean felt responsible for what had happened tonight, for Sam getting hurt. Dean didn't have to say anything for John to know what he was thinking.

And John didn't want his son thinking it anymore.

"Dean?" John spoke softly as he sat up in the chair to look at his eldest, who sat beside him in an equally uncomfortable chair. "We need to talk, son."

And as Dean's eyes met his, John's heart broke. How could he have let this happen? This wasn't Dean's fault, it was his. He knew Dean didn't want Sam to come, but he had let him anyways. He didn't think this would happen, not to Sam. Yeah, Sam got hurt just like every kid, but nothing this serious before. The reality behind this whole situation was an eye-opener for John.

"Dean…" John started cautiously, trying to make his words come out right. "This whole thing," he said, motioning his arms to the surrounding area, "it's not your fault. Sam's not hurt because of you. You did nothing wrong."

John watched as Dean looked away at his words. "I couldn't protect him." A barely audible whisper, but John heard it nonetheless.

John knew it was his fault that Dean felt like this; he had forced him to grow up. Every time John left his boys alone, on their own, Dean was forced to take care of things, to be an adult. Only now, seeing his boy for what he truly was, a child, did John realize his mistake.

John wrapped his arm around Dean's shoulders, pulling the young boy closer. "You're not to blame, you hear me?" he asked.

John felt Dean bury his head against John's chest, Dean's emotional barriers finally crumbling as tears flowed freely from the young boy's eyes as he nodded.

"Everything's going to be alright."

The two of them sat like that, Dean's tears subsided not long after starting, when John noticed a man in hospital scrubs walk into the waiting room.

"The family of Samuel Winchester?"

TBC…

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So, do you think Sam's going to be okay? Review, it's the only way I know what you're thinking, I can't read minds no matter how hard I try.