Winchester Rules

by Visionairy

Sam may be young, but he's beginning to realize that both Dean and his dad are keeping something from him. And if that's the case, a sick Sam decides, it can go both ways.

Dedicated to KKBelvis and based on her story, A Spot to Remember. You really should check out that story, as well as all of her work!

Chapter 3

"Okay, alright." He stood up and walked around the room. "It's okay, Sammy. We'll take care of this." He stopped at the dresser and looked at the thermometer again. "Just, I have to get you to a doctor."

"No doctors,' Sam whispered vehemently. "No hospitals!"

"What?" Dean's voice got louder. "What are you talking about – of course you have to see a doctor. This is bad, Sam."

A scratchy whisper followed, "It doesn't hurt that much."

"Uh huh." Dean stood over his brother, "Tell that to someone who believes it, 'cause it's not flying with me." Dropping down on the bed next to him, Dean felt either side of Sam's throat. "Oh great, and your glands are all swollen, too."

Sam tried to scramble back again, but Dean blocked his escape. "No way, Sam. If that gets any worse, you'll screw up your hearing, and you don't mess with that. I just need to figure out how to get you to a doctor."

"I'm not a little kid, Dean." Sam's voice was getting worse, but he was determined to be heard, "You and Dad don't go to doctors … so, I don't go either. I can handle pain."

"What are you talking about?" Dean smacked Sam on his shoulder, "You are a pain, you don't need to handle pain. And of course we go to the doctor – when we need to."

"No," Sam forced out, "You don't." He dropped his voice to a whisper, "I hear Dad when he's hurt. He tells you he's not going to the hospital. Even when you've tried everything to get him to go. I know. So I'm not a little kid, and I don't need to go."

Dean's shoulders slumped. "Aw, Sammy. That's not the same thing. You're only eight, you…"

"I'm not a kid! And I don't need to go to the doctor. I'm fine." He grabbed Dean's arm and pinned him with a stare, "I'm old enough to be a full part of the family now."

Dean's forehead furrowed, "What do you mean, 'full part of the family'. Of course you're part of the family you idiot. Now stop talking and rest your throat."

"No, I'm not, Dean. There's always different rules for me. I don't want it anymore. I'm tired of being left out of everything. You and Dad, you always discuss everything when I'm not there." He swallowed roughly, but forged on, "I can be a part of it now. I'm old enough to follow the family rules - I know how to be careful and not talk about Dad being out of town for work. I'm old enough to take care of myself when I'm sick. And," he nodded at Dean, "I'm old enough to be included in the talks with you and Dad."

Dean shook his head, "Look, Sammy, you're not …"

"So," Sam interrupted and leveled his most solemn stare at Dean. "… I'm old enough that I don't need to go to a docto'…," but he broke off when his voice just gave out on him.

Dean reached over and gently pushed at his sibling's shoulders, trying to guide him back down to the pillow. "Easy, buddy. Okay, you're not a kid. You're right … I know that."

Sam pushed back to stay up, and suddenly screamed, slamming his hand against his ear.

"Sammy, what's wrong?" Dean grabbed his brother's shoulders and tried to figure out what was going on.

"Aghhh … h'rts …," He kept a death grip on the painful ear.

Dean tried to lever Sam's hand arm away so he could take a look, but he wouldn't budge. "Sammy, you gotta let me look".

Sam's face suddenly looked confused, and then alarmed eyes flew up to his brother's face.

Dean didn't wait for Sam to comply this time. He grabbed the smaller arm and pried it away from Sam's ear as he grabbed the flashlight. Some blood and pus was draining from his ear.

"Oh God, Sammy… I think it burst." He shined the flashlight in. "I can't tell, but where else would that be coming from." He grabbed a tissue and brought it back up to blot at his brother's ear. "How are you feeling?"

Sam's horrified face eased a little. He shrugged his shoulders, and shook his head hesitantly. "Not bad," he whispered, concentrating.

Dean's voice dropped again. "Don't give me that 'I'm an adult' bullshit. How much does it really hurt?"

Sam looked a little confused as he whispered, "No, Dean … it really does feel better."

Dean shook his head, "Why doesn't that make me feel any better." He got up and started to pace, "Shit, it probably burst." He turned and pointed to his brother. "I'm taking you to the ER – now. No discussion."

Sam shook his head emphatically and pushed further against the wall. "What if…"

Dean grabbed Sam's shoulder, "What about quit talking don't you understand? Hang on." Dean walked over to his backpack and sorted through it till he found an old notebook and pen. Handing them to Sam, he stood next to the bed and waited.

Sam scribbled fast, "What if they want to take my tonsils out?"

Dean shook his head trying to figure out his confusing sibling, "Well, then you get them taken out."

Sam shook his head and wrote some more. "Dad would be mad." Dean had just finished reading it when Sam snatched it back and added, "You and Dad won't go to the hospital."

"Sam, that's crazy." Dean reached over and handed his brother the glass of water still sitting by his bed.

Sam took a sip, and whispered, "No, Dean - I know. Just before we left Ohio when Dad came home with his leg bleeding all over…" Dean opened his mouth to respond, but Sam didn't let him. No matter how much his throat hurt now, he had to get this out, "You both don't think I know, but I hear, and I see. You were even begging him to go the hospital and he wouldn't do it."

Dean dropped down onto the bed and tried to come up with an explanation that would make sense.

Sam just took another quick sip and went on. "Look, I get it. We don't have the money. That's fine, Well, I don't need to go to the hospital either."

"The money?" Dean would have smacked his brother again if it he didn't look so pitiful, "We can get the money, you don't need to worry about that."

"Of course I do," Sam countered, "I'm old enough be part of the family business – and that includes worrying about the money."

Dean was getting frustrated. They didn't have the time for this right now. "That's not why Dad doesn't go to the hospital you idjet."

"Yeah, right," Sam crossed his arms, "… so you're just both afraid to go?"

Dean shook his head, "Sam, there are some things that you just … " his hand rotated in a circular motion.

Sam leaned forward, "What?"

Dean paused for a second and looked away, trying to decide just what to say.

Sam stared quietly at his brother for a time before whispering, "Dean, what won't you tell me?"

Dean rolled his eyes and opened his mouth, but after a second closed it again, shook his head and stood up. "Nothing, squirt. But I am telling you that you need to go to the doctor because hearing and high fevers are not something Winchesters can mess with."

"Right," Sam glared back at his brother, "…but bleeding out is?"

"Look, Sammy. I can sew up a leg or an arm. I can't sew up an ear … or your tonsils for that matter. What if they do need to come out?"

Sam's stomach twisted. But despite the way he felt, Sam wasn't ready to give in. He turned his head and repeated as loud as he could whisper, "Winchesters don't go to the hospital."

Dean's volume increased as well, "They do in an emergency!"

Sam grabbed the notebook and scribbled, "Well this isn't one."

Dean stepped up to tower over his brother, "An emergency is when I say it's an emergency."

Sam glared right back and wrote in large black letters, "You can't drive."

Dean threw a challenging look back at his brother, "Really?"

"Yeah," Sam's adrenaline was waning, "…well you're not supposed to." Sliding down on the bed till his head hit the pillow, his face lit briefly when he whispered, "No car."

Dean walked over to the dresser and back again. The kid was right. Someday soon Dad was going to have to get a car of his own, cause Dean needed the Impala. "Yeah, well the bus stop is two blocks away." He looked down at the miserable guy on the bed. "Don't worry. I'm calling Dad now, and he'll come home."

"He'll be mad."

"He'll be more upset if something happens to you, Sammy." Dean stopped his pacing for a minute and sat down next to his sibling and brushed the bangs off his sticky forehead, "Don't worry, I'll explain it to him. Look, Sammy. I don't care how old you are. Even if you were 25, I'd still do this to you. I'm never going to risk anything with you just because it's not convenient for us to go to a doctor. Sometimes you just have to suck it up and go." He tilted his brother's chin up to look at him. "It doesn't mean you're little or weak, it just means you're sick. Got it?"

Sam nodded.

"Okay, then," Dean stood up and headed for the door. "Lay down, hold that tissue to your ear, and I'll be back in a few." Turning, he waited for Sam to comply. Sam carefully laid back against the pillows Dean had stacked behind him and exaggeratedly put the tissue over his ear. "Good, now stay like that." At the door, he turned and added, "…and when you're feeling better, we'll talk about your crazy ideas then."

Dean came back in a few minutes later. "Dad didn't answer, but I got hold of Pastor Jim. He'll keep trying until he gets through to Dad." He checked Sam's ear again and gave him a clean tissue. "Okay, then," he rifled through his top drawer of their dresser till he came up with their emergency stash – an envelope which contained some cash and the latest 'insurance' card, and a small worn pocket-sized notebook. Pocketing them, he grabbed Sam's jacket and helped him get up off the bed, "Let's go get you fixed up."

tbc

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