I don't own supernatural

I know Sam acts like a kid in this one. Skye1963 said they didn't think Sam was very childish in the last one, but towards the end of this one Sam is really childish. I find it adorable for some reason. Shrugs. You have been warned.

Last time on supernatural:

Silhouetted against the light behind him, was John Winchester. Boy was Sam ever in for it now.

Chapter 4 Dad Finds Out

The sight of their father instantly sent Sam diving over Dean's bed and grabbing the sheet to wrap around himself.

Dean gave a startled and somewhat angry yell at his sudden movement. His baby was hurt'; he shouldn't be moving at all, let alone so quickly and in such a strenuous way.

John looked around, obviously noting Sam's curly head poking up from the other side of the bed (he was holding the sheet around his shoulders like a cloak) and Dean's flustered face.

If Sam had been any other person Dean was sure his father would've drawn conclusions from Sam's state of undress. As it was he simply looked furious.

"I told you this had to stop, Dean," he rebuked sharply.

"You know what?" Dean asked lividly. "You can just shove it where the sun don't shine."

Sam gapped at him, but Dean felt like himself for the first time in six months. Not that being himself usually included telling his father to shove it, but protecting Sam from everything was always on the agenda. Their father was included in everything.

"Do you have any idea what your plan," a word snarled in disgust, "has done to my baby?" Dean continued.

"Did Sam crash your car?" John asked confusedly, his eyes flicking over to Sam.

Dean looked at him blankly for a second, then it seemed to register what his father meant. "This isn't about my car!" he nearly shrieked. "Sam isn't even old enough to drive it yet!"

"Since when has that ever stopped us?" John questioned with a raised eyebrow.

Dean ignored him and stalked over to Sam's side of the bed. He growled angrily as he noticed Sam had managed to tug a few of his cuts the wrong way when he was jumping. The white sheet was beginning to stain crimson in some places with Sam's blood.

He scooped Sam into his arms again (a slightly awkward movement with the sheet in the way and Sam determined to keep it around himself) and carried him back around the bed.

He could've just asked Sam to come back around to him, but he honestly didn't want to Sam walking even a step right now.

He set Sam down on the bed and stood protectively between Sam and their father. "This is about Sam," he announced.

"What about him?" John inquired carelessly. "He's fine," he dismissed.

"You call this fine!" Dean roared, pulling the sheet from Sam as he spoke.

Sam immediately squeaked and tried to dive under the comforter, but Dean grabbed his thin wrist before he was able to. He kept a firm grip on his baby, even while he was taking care not to hurt the little boy any more.

John gapped in abject horror at Sam. Dean could easily see why; Sam looked even worse then before with his blood painting different parts of him crimson.

"What. the. Hell, Samuel?" John asked in horror and anger.

Sam fidgeted, but didn't answer. Dean could clearly see the fear on his face.

"Go away," he ordered his father coldly. "Sam and I are going to have a discussion, and I don't think you'll help a lick."

"Excuse me?" John asked incredulously. "Who do you think you are, boy?"

"I think," Dean gritted, "that I am the person who's supposed to take care of Sam. You have absolutely no role in his life, aside from drill sergeant. So goodbye," he finished, waving a dismissive hand in his father's direction as a mimic of John's earlier tone.

John didn't move, but Dean was no longer paying any attention to him. He looked over Sam, trying to figure out where he should start patching him up, then decided this was way out of his league.

"We're going to the hospital," he declared.

"No!" Sam cried, looking up at him in horror.

"Yes," Dean told him determinedly.

"Please no, Dean," Sam pleaded. "How am I going to explain all this to the doctor?"

"I don't know, but you'd better figure it out," Dean advised. "You could just tell him the truth. Which would be-?" he half questioned.

"I-" Sam seemed to be having some trouble telling Dean. He guessed it was because his Sammy had kept it a secret so long. Sam swallowed thickly, and Dean put a hand on the back of his neck to encourage him.

"The kids at school don't like me," the younger boy finally blurted, and Dean saw red. "That's part of why I never said anything. Dad would be so disappointed if he ever learned I was letting humans beat me up."

Dean discretely gave his father the finger behind Sam's back, then moved to kneel in front of Sam. With his baby brother sitting on the bed and Dean squatting before him Sam was actually taller for once.

Dean gently grabbed Sam's chin and guided it to make Sam meet his eyes again. "You didn't let them do anything, Angel," Dean assured.

He stopped for a second, startled by the name that had slipped pass his own lips.

Angel. It was what his mother had called him. He was her little angel. Now Sam was his little angel. It fit, in an odd sort of way.

"I bet you didn't just lay down and take it, did you?" he continued after a few seconds.

Sam shook his head as much as he could with Dean cupping his check again.

"Then you didn't let them do it. You suffered through what they did to you, yes, but you didn't let them do anything," Dean told him. "Let's get you dressed so I can drive you to the hospital."

Sam barely protested at all as Dean went around his room, gathering up Sam's discarded clothing and grabbing a t-shirt from his own drawer. Dean figured he had gotten through to his baby a little.

He walked back to the bed and rolled up the t-shirt so he could pull it over Sammy's head. His baby had proved earlier that lifting his arms above his head hurt, so Dean wasn't going to let him lift his arms.

He proceeded to help his little brother into the shirt.

"Can do it myself, Dean," Sam told him quietly, still not meeting his eyes.

"Yeah?" Dean asked. "Well guess what? I want to do it," he informed his baby brother as he helped Sam get his arms through the sleeves.

The pants were a bit more of a challenge as Dean didn't want Sam standing at all, and Sam didn't want to be dressed like a baby, but they eventually managed.

Then Dean swept the smaller boy into his arms again, ignoring any and all protests he got.

"You shouldn't have let yourself get into such bad shape that you didn't have a good foot to hobble on if you didn't want to be carried," he hushed Sam gently. He didn't blame Sammy in the least, but he knew it would get the little boy to stop squirming. He didn't want to drop his baby brother.

His father had disappeared off to an unknown location, and as far as Dean was concerned he could stay there.

He carried Sam out to the impala and set him down in the passenger seat, before going around to his side of the car. As soon as he was seated, they were speeding towards the hospital.

Supernatural

Dean entered through the door to the emergency room, Sam on his hip again. Sam looked unreasonably embarrassed, but then again, Dean hadn't carried him in public since Sammy was ten. He shrugged, figuring that was what all this was about, and moved to the front desk.

"Sam?" the woman behind the desk asked in surprised concern. Her gaze narrowed as it latched onto Dean only to see he was already giving her a suspicious look.

"Hey Sherry," Sam mumbled, mortification clear on his face.

"You know her?" Dean confirmed.

"Yeah, she's a regular at the bar," Sam replied. "I know everyone in the whole town."

"Wow," Dean whistled, clearly impressed.

"Small town, you know," his baby brother muttered in answer.

"Yeah, but still…" Dean trailed off.

"What happened, Sam?" Sherry asked, seemingly deciding that what ever was wrong had nothing to do with Dean.

"He got beat up," Dean said bluntly, his voice infused with fury.

Sherry hesitated. "I hate to ask this, but was it your father?" she questioned.

"What!" Sam cried, stunned. "No!"

Dean was less surprised; he had listened to Kylie earlier.

"Oh good," Sherry sighed. "At least we can tell Carl that he doesn't need the adoption papers for that."

Sam cocked his head in confusion. "What?" he inquired again.

"Never mind," Sherry dismissed. "I'll call Paul."

Seconds later a doctor was hurrying into the room. He was an older man, and very kindly looking. Dean could easily see why the man would choose to be a pediatric doctor. He was the type that would put a child instantly at ease.

"Sam?" he too asked at seeing Dean's baby.

"Hey Paul," the little boy shifted uncomfortably in Deans arms.

Paul recovered quickly from his surprise, another thing that probably put kids at ease.

"Well, come on back then," he invited, motioning to the examination room behind him.

Dean shifted Sam into a position more comfortable for both of them, and followed the doctor. The man obviously hadn't been expecting this, but he allowed Dean to accompany them. Maybe he sensed that Dean wouldn't let his Sammy go without him.

"What seems to be the problem?" he questioned.

"Sam said some of the kids at school have been beating him up every day after school. Actually, that isn't precisely what he said, but years of speaking reading into Sam's under-exaggerations have me trained to read between the lines," Dean reconsidered.

Paul looked alarmed. "Not my-?" he began.

"No," Sam answered at once. "Your children are perfectly nice to me. It's only the older ones who are giving me trouble," he assured the man.

"Do you want me to call their parents?" was Paul's next inquiry.

Dean got the distinct feeling that he would be doing so whether Sammy said.

"No!" Sam practically yelled. He calmed down a little and continued. "I don't want to get them in trouble, and besides it isn't that bad."

"Of course it isn't," Dean snorted.

"You're mean," Sam pouted.

"And proud of it," Dean teased back as he set his baby down on the exam table.

"He has a couple broken toes on his left foot, a broken ankle on his right, a broken thumb on his left hand, a couple broken ribs, slashes across his chest from where they apparently got a knife, and little cuts all over from the same thing. He also says there's something wrong with his sternum, whatever the hell that is," Dean reeled off. He had no problem lying about where Sam got the slashes; those bastards deserved whatever they got.

Paul's jaw dropped. "Well," he stuttered eventually as he took in this information. "Let's take a look. Shirt off, Sam," he ordered.

Sam hesitated. "But-" he started.

"We don't have any other choice Sport," Paul said apoplectically.

"But-" Sam tried again.

"Come on, baby boy," Dean coaxed. "He'll make it all better again," he cooed, resorting to talking to Sam like he had when his baby brother was about five.

"Why can't you fix it?" Sam questioned while pouting. Dean wondered if there was a specific reason Sam was acting so babyish, or if it was just because he needed Dean to take charge.

"Because, Sammy, Daddy doesn't have the medical knowledge or equipment to fix it," Dean explained patiently. "Please just let Daddy take your shirt off for the nice man," he coaxed. He was surprised Sam was even letting Dean talk to him like this. Normally Sam punched him by this time.

"Fine," Sam pouted.

Dean considered the possibility that his baby had a head injury. It seemed highly likely and would be a good thing to check for.

Supernatural

Two hours later, Sam was laying in a hospital bed, drugged up to his eyeballs on pain medication. A worried Dean was sitting next to his baby with a slightly heartbroken look on his face.

Sam had a cast on his right ankle, an odd shoe-type thing on his left, a cast on his left arm, and bandages wound around his head and ribs.

Dean had been right about the head injury; apparently Sam had a pretty bad concussion. Sam always got kind of odd when he had a concussion, but the doctor said this one was messing with his emotions and making him act younger.

Dean didn't mind too much. If his baby needed to be indulged in acting like a little kid, then he would make sure Sam could act like a little kid. The concussion was fairly new, so Paul said this behavior was probably just starting and would last for awhile.

Sam was also going to have some problems getting around. Paul wanted him off of his right ankle, but couldn't put him on crutches, because Sam's hand was so messed up. He had broken his thumb in a very bad place, and it was affecting the whole rest of his hand. Hence, the cast.

Dean was quite content just to sit and watch his Sammy sleep, until the door banged open, and John Winchester stood in. Here we go again.

And that's it for today!

The next chapter is the last, but I already have plans for the sequel. It was originally all one story, but I realized it would be better to split it into different parts because of things that happen in the next one. I don't want to give away too much.

I've never actually finished a story before, so I'm really excited.

I'm listening to "Snow White Queen" by evanescence.

So guess who got seasons 1-3 on DVD for their birthday! They got here late because my Mom ordered them off the internet. I literally ran all the way back to the house from the mailbox across the road screaming that "They're here!"

I'm such a geek for this show that I managed to get my parents hooked on it too. we watch about two episodes every night, and we're watching the last two of season one tonight.

I watch the clips on youtube so much that I can quote the lines along with the characters, even though I've never actually seen the full episodes before.

The other day my sister told me "You're redic" as a shortage of ridiculous. I honestly thought she was saying you're a dick. I was like, "whoa, language there."

Ok, I'm done with my random rant now. Everybody have a great day/ night/ whatever.

What do you think!