Whew. 2 long hours of ideas and scribbled notes DONE. Anyway, decided to make this chapter a bit longer. Of course, finals next week, but my class trip to Splash Lagoon is tomorrow so i had a lot of time to write this. Anyway, hope you enjoy! WARNING; Angst.
Dean watched his brother as tears flowed down his face. "Sammy.." he said. He tried to stand up but a sharp pain coursed through his left side like a bullet had been shot through him.
Dean lied back again, taking his phone out of his pocket and carefully dialing the number he had called earlier. It took 2 rings and he had already picked up.
"Dean, I know you wanna chew me out for telling, but you know I had to." the familiar voice spoke in a rush.
"I need help." Dean whispered, unable to inflict his voice any stronger.
Jim spoke at once. "I'm on my way." said the Pastor.
He'd heard the sound of Dean's voice when he was badly in pain. He had heard it on many occasions when he would have to patch up Dean when he was no more than 13 from hunting. He grabbed his keys and rushed out the door, knowing it'd take him a good 40 minutes to get there.
Dean hung up the phone, already out of breathe from speaking. Sam still stood with tears streaking down his face after Dean had hung up the phone.
Dean looked up at his little brother.
"Sammy." he said once again. He indicated with his hand for Sam to come over to him. It took Sam a minute to wrench his feet from where he stood, but after a minute, Sam was advancing toward Dean slowly.
Sam stood over Dean. He put his hand out for Dean to grab. Dean grabbed Sam's hand.
Sam knew that there was no way he could lift his brother, but he could give it a try, anyway.
"Put your other hand on the table." Sam said, his voice barely audible. Dean willingly took the side of the table and Sam pulled his brothers hand with all his might.
At first, it was no use. The pain in Sam's head had gotten the best of him and he had to take a break before giving it another try.
"Ready, Sammy?" Dean asked.
Sam shook his head. He once again pulled and felt the sharp stabbing pain again, but he ignored it, pulling Dean to his feet with the help of the table and Dean.
Dean smiled. " 'atta boy, Sammy." he said.
Dean felt a hell of a lot better once he was moved and up. He could still feel the pain in his ribs but ignored it.
Sam, as soon as he got Dean standing, rushed to the bathroom.
"Sammy?" he asked, worriedly. He slowly followed Sam into the bathroom, being careful not to bring himself any unwanted pain.
Sam was crouched over the toilet, holding his head. He had just vomited up everything he had eaten for lunch that afternoon.
"Sammy?" Dean asked again.
Sam didn't look up. The pain in his head was excruciating now, causing Sam's vision to become blurred. Tears poured like a waterfall down his face.
Dean went over next to Sam, carefully getting on his knees and forcing Sam to look at him. What Dean saw broke his heart.
Sam's face was very pale, his eyed bloodshot, the tears coming endlessly, and Sam was gripping his head like he would lose it within a second.
"Sammy, c'mon, you gotta stand up. We need to get you lied down." Dean said softly. He put his hand on Sam's shoulder comfortingly. Sam slowly stood, still gripping his head.
"Sammy, your making it worse." Dean said, slowly getting to his feet.
Sam turned around to face Dean. His face beat red, now. Sam suddenly walked over to Dean and wrapped his arms around Dean's waist. Dean winced, but wouldn't dare to let Sam see he was in pain. That would only make things worse.
"Hey, there Sammy, everything's gonna be ok. Jim's on his way, he's gonna patch you and me up, alright?" Dean said, rubbing Sam's back with his hands.
Sam looked up at Dean, fear, sadness, and wonder in his eyes.
"Why did dad hit you?" Sam asked in a tiny voice.
Dean looked at Sam and looked away. This was something that Dean didn't want to share with Sam. Knowing him, Sam would think it was his fault.
"We'll talk about this later, Sammy. Right now, we gotta get you some soft pillows and blankets." Dean said. He guided Sam out of the bathroom and back into the living room. Sam sat on the couch as Dean got him his night things.
"Are you ok?" Sam asked, still fear in his voice.
"Course I am, Sammy." he responded. Dean almost believed himself. Most of the pain Dean had felt had gone away once he moved around, but he could still feel stabs of pain every now and again.
Dean set the pillow on the end of the couch. "Lay down, Sammy, your making your head worse." Dean said. Sam obediently layed his head on the pillow and he felt a little better. The nice coldness of the pillow soothed some of the pain. Dean covered Sam with blankets, tucking Sam in. Dean was about to go into his room when Sam called out in fright.
"Dean!" he yelled. Dean whipped his head around to Sam in a flash and rushed over to Sam. He bent down on his knees next to the couch and eye level with Sam.
"What hurts, Sammy?" He asked with worry in his eyes. He had his hand rested on top of Sam's hand.
Sam looked at Dean and burst into tears.
"Sammy..hey, shh, I'm right here, ok? Does anything hurt?" he asked Sam lightly while rubbing Sam's back again.
Sam pulled back, jamming his fists into his eyes to wipe away the tears. He was 13, he should've been over the tears by now. His father had told him numerous times, before.
"You were about to go to sleep in your room and I just..I didn't want to be alone out here." Sam said. He tried to stifle a sob, but failed.
"Sammy, I was just going to get you another pillow, kiddo. I would never leave you out here alone to sleep. Especially with dad like he is." He said, bringing Sam into a tight hug.
Sam wrapped his arms around Dean's neck tightly, not wanting to let go. Dean rocked Sam back and forth for 10 minutes before Pastor Jim arrived. Sam was finally sleeping peacefully as the familiar vehicle pulled up.
Dean carefully set Sam down, hoping he wouldn't wake. He knew that if Sam woke, he would be in worse pain.
Dean hobbled to the door. He opened it and saw the Pastor's worry stricken face.
"What happened, Dean?" He said, looking at Dean. Dean had a few light cuts on his face, a lightly bruised eye, and looked like he could collapse at any moment. He let the Pastor in and shut the door. The place was also a mess.
"Fell." Dean said, laughing and closing the door. He hoped that he would ask no further questions, but of course, Jim knowing Dean too well, knew he wasn't telling the truth. "Dean, tell me the truth." he pressed, staring into Dean's eyes. Jim could see worry, fear, and hesitance in Dean's eyes.
He hesitated before telling him.
"Dad was drunk. And he stormed in and threw me against the wall and started to hit me and kick me for not protecting Sammy." He looked over at Sam, feeling as if he had, in some way, failed his little brother. "And now he's in bed."
Jim was stunned. Never had he heard of such behavior from John Winchester. He loved his kids more than hunting and life itself and never could have believed he would ever raise a hand to them. Jim took a seat at the table, taking in the information.
Dean saw the surprise on his face. Might as well tell him about the other times, he thought. Dean sat next to the Pastor and told him about the previous beatings he took from his father. He told him about how it was usually all when John was drunk, though.
Jim was appalled. "Why didn't you ever tell me this?" Jim asked, real surprise in his voice. He stared angrily at Dean. Dean looked at the floor then back up at the Pastor then looked back down. "I-I never told you because I was scared. I was scared of what would happen if I told, what he would do. I was scared that maybe he'd beat Sammy. I'm sorry, I wanted to before, but I just was too scared." Dean said, his eyes never leaving the floor. He had never been so honest about his feelings to many people and the Pastor looked at the boy before him, telling himself he was lucky that Dean opened up to him.
The Pastor put his hand on his shoulder after a few seconds. Dean had let a few stray tears run down his face, but quickly wiped the ones that followed. "Dean, I understand. I'm not mad. I just wish you would have told me a little sooner so I could talk some sense into John." He said, a comforting hand on his shoulder.
"Thanks for understanding." Dean whispered. He refused to look up, knowing he'd cry even more if he did.
"Anytime, kiddo." He said, patting Dean's back. Dean pulled himself out of the trance he had been in while staring at the floor.
"Can you look at Sammy first real quick?" He and the Pastor stood up. Dean was still worried about how Sam was doing.
"Sure thing, Dean." He said. He checked out Sam's head and his stomach area. There had been light bruising from where the bigger kid had sat on him. Dean wanted so badly to chase the kid down and lay a few punches to the kid, but Sam was hurt and Dean knew he'd have more time.
As Jim was tending to Sam's injuries, Dean turned and went to the window. It was pitch black out and almost 3 in the morning. Dean stared out the window thinking to himself. He couldn't push the thought out of his mind that it was his fault Sammy was hurt. His fault he wasn't there to protect him. He felt like he had failed his brother.
He layed his hands on the window pane and let his head hang.
"Dean." a voice from behind spoke. Dean didn't turn, not wanting to look or speak to anyone. "You should get some sleep, Dean. It's been a rough night for all of us."
Dean picked his head up slowly, nodding curtly, but not moving from the window. He stared out into the night, wishing he had, in some way, saved his brother.
The Pastor stood up after looking at Sam's wounds. "He'll be fine, Dean. Just a few days of bed rest and he should be good to go."
Dean nodded again. He still did not turn. The thought scratched at his brain like a virus. A nasty one.
Dean turned on his heel slowly and hobbled to the chair next to Jim. "Just tell me if I have any broken ribs, the rest I'll deal with." he said in a hoarse whisper. Jim reluctantly felt around Dean's stomach, prodding it carefully. Dean winced a few times, but didn't feel much. Jim knew that if he tried with Dean, it would go in one ear and go out the other.
While Jim was patching Dean up, Dean could only think of the pain that Sam was probably feeling.
It was all his fault.