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.

Chapter 4

By the time they walked the two blocks to the bus stop, and rode on the bus for three miles before waiting in the cold for the next bus and then boarding it for an additional six mile ride, Sam was miserable and Dean was already planning how to waste the lady in the next seat over. She had loudly ventured her opinion about traveling on public transportation with a kid that was obviously sick and undoubtedly highly contagious. Sam had originally sat up and tried to look healthy, but eventually ended up leaning heavily against Dean - more in an effort, he told himself, to make sure Dean didn't take a swing at the older woman, then a need for Dean's support when he felt so awful.

Dean fumed, his hand twisting in and out of a fist. He already knew that this was no way to treat his little brother when he was feeling this sick, and he sure as hell didn't want Sammy having to listen to the witch across the isle complain about his germs. But he would do whatever was necessary to get Sammy taken care of. He tightened his arm protectively around his little brother. Unfortunately, calling 9-1-1 would have been overkill, and would have caused the same problem as calling any adults to drive them. Anybody he got involved would want to know where their dad was.

Finally the bus pulled up to the stop for St. Mary's Hospital. Nudging his brother, Dean helped Sam out into the isle before backing purposefully into the lady across from them and knocking all her packages over into the isle. Smirking as hear her curse, Dean helped Sam carefully off the bus. As Sam looked around to see where to cross, he noticed Dean smiling and gesturing appropriately at the old bat glaring down at them as the bus pulled away.

Sam shook his head and moved forward to cross the street, weaving ominously to one side.

"Hold up, Sammy." Dean grabbed his brother's jacket. "You going to make it? You look like you've had a few too many."

"Dizzy," Sam groaned.

"I gotcha little man," Dean pulled him close to his side, "Let's try crossing in a straight line, okay?"

Wilting against his brother, Sam let Dean guide him across the street and into the main entrance of the hospital. When Dean stopped at the front desk to ask for the quickest route to the Emergency Room, the perky blond attendant at the desk glanced briefly down at Sam, before focusing back on Dean. "Rough night, huh?" She smiled sweetly at Dean and pointed down the hall. "Cute little kid. Pediatric Emergency room is off this hall, three doors down on your left." She pulled a strand of hair behind her ear as she leaned forward. "Stop by later if you want anything else." She shot a dismissive look back to Sam, "Hope the little guy's feeling better soon."

Sam shifted uncomfortably, and Dean glared back at her. "Sam doesn't need Pediatrics," he declared, "…which way to General Emergency?"

Wondering what she'd done wrong, the girl hastily gestured down the hall, "Uh …, fourth door down on the right."

Dean nodded. Throwing his arm casually over Sam's shoulder, they headed down the hall. A few feet down the hall Dean heard a muffled, "Thanks, Dean." … and grinned.

As soon as Dean got Sam signed in, Dean looked around the waiting room for the closest pay phone.

"Over here, buddy." Dean guided his brother over to the closest group of chairs, took his jacket off and made a pillow out of it for him. Sam eased back into the chair and leaned on the armrest, grimacing as he tried to find a comfortable position. Dean quickly checked him over again and then looked back over at the triage door. It looked like there were quite a few people that were waiting ahead of them.

Making sure Sam was settled and relatively comfortable, Dean grabbed some coins from his pocket and dialed the number for Pastor Jim. Despite several attempts, Jim hadn't been able to get hold of their dad yet either, but at least the Pastor had been available when Dean had called from home.

"Thanks! " Dean's sincerity was clear. "They agreed that you can fax in your signature for permission to treat him. They'll accept that for now. And you were right, they do want to be able to talk to you 'Dad', so can you stay by the phone?" He looked at his watch again. "I don't know how long it'll be till they get to us."

"Of course, Dean. I won't go anywhere until your dad gets there." Dean was glad that even though the Pastor was a man of the cloth, he still recognized the necessity to use any means possible to make sure Sammy got treated right away.

Dean hesitated and looked around to see if anyone could hear him. "What if we can't get ahold of …?"

Jim understood Dean's concern. "Then I'll come out there. But, right now your dad's only a few hours away, and he'll check in soon." The pastor's calm voice was just what Dean needed to hear. "I'm sure he'll be there before you know it."

Once Dean gave him the fax number, and assured the Pastor that he'd call as soon as he knew anything, he rushed back over toward his brother. Luckily, Sam was temporarily engrossed in an old Indiana Jones movie playing on the crappy waiting room TV - so Dean decided to make a slight detour to the vending machines that lined the wall. Scrounging through his pockets, he came up with enough money for an ice cream sandwich and a bottled water.

When he got back, Sam had slouched further down in the seat until his head was resting against the hard plastic. "Here, Sammy … eat up." Dean dropped the small package of ice cream on his brother's lap. "This'll feel pretty good on that delicate throat of yours."

Sam rolled his eyes. Dean smiled and held up the bottled water as well. "Something to wash it down with?"

Dean settled in the seat next to Sam, bunching up his old leather jacket against his shoulder and pulling Sam over to lean against it. Being careful not to drip any ice cream, Sam relaxed into his brother's side.

The movie ended, and Dean checked his watch for the 8th time in the past five minutes and glanced around the waiting room. They'd already been waiting for over an hour, and Dean's patience was gone. As far as he could tell, there were two more people ahead of them before they'd be called back. His hand drifted down once again to check his brother's rising fever.

Feeling his forehead still hot and damp, Dean pushed the water back into his brother's hand. "Drink," he ordered.

Sam shifted uncomfortably, but complied. Dean watched him for a minute and then adjusted the coat to give him more support. "Sammy," Dean hesitated until his brother looked up, "You've always been a full part of this family. You know that, right?"

Sam gave him a rueful smile and shrugged.

Dean's eyes flashed away for a moment, and then focused back on Sam. "Dad and I, sometimes we have to talk about other stuff, but it's nothing you'd want to know about. It's only about his job and stuff."

Sam had his doubts. Yeah, actually, he did want to know about it, and he still didn't like being the one left out. After all, what kind of job couldn't they talk about in front of him?

"But you're right, my man. You are growing up…" Dean paused and then smirked at his little brother curled up into a compact ball next to him, "…well you're maturing, anyway." Sam rolled his eyes again, "...and when you get taken care of here, I'll talk to Dad about it. Maybe there are some more ways you can help out … be more involved."

Sam nodded thoughtfully. Maybe Dean was right. That could be the first step. If he could help out more, then his dad would see him more like he did Dean rather than just like a little kid – and possibly treat him that way.

Sam took another tiny swallow and then whispered, "Why no hospitals?"

"Winchester Rules," Dean declared. "Dad avoids ER's whenever possible because, you know, we do what we do, and we shut up about it."

"Yeah," Sam roughly protested, "… so if those 'r the rules, why'd you take me here?"

Dean smiled a cocky grin at his brother and pointed at him, "Because you forgot the two most important Winchester Rules." Dean counted them off on his fingers, "One – 'Family Comes First'.

Sam nodded in agreement.

"And Two …" Dean dropped his hand down to Sam's shoulder. "…'We Take Care of our Own'." He waited, "Right?"

Sam shifted in his seat but nodded again.

Dean shook his head and sighed. "Sammy, you gotta know that there's no way in hell we're going to let you get really sick just to avoid a hospital. That'd be stupid."

Despite feeling like his throat was going to bleed, Sam couldn't let it go. "Dad does."

Dean didn't have a good answer for that. "Dad's Dad. He made me go the doctor when I broke my arm last year."

Sam slowly nodded.

"And you, big man, are going to have to be more upfront with us when you're sick or hurting, or there'll be trouble in your future!"

The edge of Sam's mouth curled up as he pointed to Dean's head and mouthed, "You're not psychic."

"Oh yes, I am." Dean assured. "… and if you play your cards right, I can see Frosty's and ice cream, and all sorts of great treats in our future."

Sam raised his eyebrows, gesturing between them as he mouthed, "Our future?"

"What kind of big brother would I be if I didn't test your food first to make sure it wouldn't hurt that girly little throat of yours."

Sam started to laugh, which turned into a cringe when both his ear and throat rebelled at the motion.

"Sammy, you okay?" Dean dropped down to squat in front of him.

Sam just folded against his brother. Now, he decided, wasn't the time to bring up the Winchester 'No Hugging' rule.

Dean didn't move until Sam self-consciously pushed himself back up into the chair, then Dean slid back into the chair next to him. Sam squirmed a bit trying to get comfortable in the hard chair, but Dean just pulled him close again. "Sit still, Marcel," he ordered. "New Winchester Rule – 'Sometimes Even Big Guys Need Someone to Lean On'."

Dean, Sam decided, may actually be psychic. He thought back to what Nick had said earlier and felt a lot better. He didn't really need a mom to take care of him when he had a big brother who knew exactly how to take care of his own.

Finally, Sam's name was called.

Based primarily on his previous medical history, which Dean had meticulously documented in his notebook down to the symptoms, medications and dates - Sam's doctor determined that he did indeed need to get both his adenoids and tonsils taken out as soon as possible. That was the bad news.

The good news was that this doctor was willing to talk to their 'dad' over the phone and accepted his faxed signature as permission to treat him. Dean, moreover, was overwhelmingly relieved to hear that even though Sam's eardrum had ruptured, the doc said that given time and care, it would heal fully and no loss of hearing should occur.

Despite Dean's efforts, the surgery, scheduled for 9 am the next morning, was going to be done by a the staff Pediatric Surgeon. Despite Sam's grumbling, Dean agreed with his 'Dad' and the doctor that they should do whatever was best for his brother's health.

Dean still asked that Sam not be sent to the Pediatrics recovery ward, insisting that waking up to Little Bo Peep on one wall and clowns covering the other would be guaranteed to set back his brothers' recovery indefinitely.

And thanks to Pastor Jim's persistent efforts, John arrived the next morning just in time for the pre-surgery check-in with the surgeon and the anesthesiologist just before the procedure. By the time they'd given Sam the painkillers for his throat and ear, and a mild sedative before the anesthesia, Sam was already acting groggy and slightly drunk – which despite the situation, highly amused the middle Winchester.

Surprisingly, to Sam, their dad's expression looked a lot more concerned than angry. And when he put his hand on Sam's arm and ruffled his other hand through his hair as he talked with the doctors, Sam gratefully relaxed into it

When the time was up, and Sam's bed was being unlocked to move out of the room, Sam's hand had to be gently pried off his brother's arm. Dean stepped back and leaned against his Dad, biting at the skin next to his thumbnail. Sam rolled his head to watch them, "S'okay Dean," Sam whispered loudly, and a goofy smile appeared, " 'Member new rule…" He used his finger to point between Dean and their dad, "Even Winchesters need someone t' lean on."

When Dean immediately stiffened and started to pull away, John grabbed his shoulder and held him close. "Sam's got that one right, Dean. Maybe you can let me lean on you for a little while longer."

As soon as Sam made it out of recovery, he was in a wheelchair and then on his way home. Dean thought that major surgery shouldn't be treated so casually and objected to the status of outpatient, but their dad and the doctors assured him that Sam didn't need to stay any longer - he was going to be fine.

To Sam's mortification, however, half way home they had to pull over to the side of the road so he could throw up. He never did do well with medication. Dean cringed as he steadied Sam, imagining how much that must hurt. The doctors had said the anesthesia might make him nauseous, but Sam must have still had some good drugs in his system, since he just fell back asleep as soon as he got back in.

By Friday night, Dad was already packed up to finish the job he'd had to leave earlier. And despite Dean's opinion, Sam was released by his doctor to go back to school on Monday. Sam wasn't sure if Dean had had a chance to talk to their dad yet about including him in future family meetings, but he trusted his brother. He just hoped his dad would agree. Meanwhile he'd work hard to prove that he deserved it, and was willing to be patient – for now.

Walking up to the couch where Sam was ensconced, John ruffled his hair. "Okay, I'm heading out now. Take care of yourself, Sam, and don't give your brother a hard time." He squeezed Sam's shoulder, "Just take your meds when you need to and do exactly what he says."

Dean stood slightly behind their dad dramatically nodding and miming everything their dad was saying.

"And Dean," John turned quickly to face his first-born. "The ice cream is for Sammy."

Sam nodded back at Dean enthusiastically and grinned as Dean smirked.

John picked up his bag from the floor and tossed it to Dean, "Here, help me out with this stuff, kiddo." Dean followed closely as the kitchen door closed behind them.

From his spot on the couch, Sam could hear their dad grilling Dean at the door. "So, do you have everything you need?"

Sam couldn't quite make out Dean's response, but he could still hear his dad's booming voice.

"Enough money for food, juice and ice cream? What's the schedule for Sam's meds?"

Dean must have responded appropriately as his dad continued.

"Don't forget all the rules." He heard the door open, and then the last one. "And what's the most important rule?"

Sam wished he could have heard his brother's reply.

Shortly after the front door slammed closed, and the rumble of the Impala was fading away, Dean came into the room baring a large bowl of chocolate ice cream with chocolate syrup running down the sides.

Sam shifted to make room for his brother on the worn blue coach. His throat was still sore, but it didn't hurt nearly as much now as it had before the surgery. "Dean," he ventured. He hadn't meant to let on that he was listening, but curiosity won out, "What did Dad just say is the most important Winchester Rule?"

Dean shoved him over and snagged the short blanket for his own comfort – a sure sign, Sam knew, that he was doing better. "You KNOW what the most important rule is, right, Sammy?"

Sam groaned before responding in a practiced monotone, "Family first …"

Dean grinned and motioned for Sam to go on. Sam rolled his eyes and continued, "… meaning older brothers get the ice cream first."

Dean nodded approvingly before offering Sam a spoon, "See, there's hope for you yet."

Subtly palming an ice cube out of the top of his drink, Sam leaned forward to take the spoon, then quickly dropped the frozen cube down the back of Dean's shirt.

"And," pointing to his throat, he put his hands up in submission before laying back and smirking up at his squirming older brother, "… we take care of our own."

The End

Well, that's it. I hope you liked it. If you get a chance, let me know what thought. Thanks!