A/N: Hi again! The first thing I'm going to do is apologize... for a few things. One is the lack of an update on the chapter story, and two is for anything stupid I end up saying tonight. I had such a hard time sleeping last night, and have been up now for over 36 hours. Before going to my bed to try and crash though, I knew I should post something for you guys. This story, like the last one, doesn't have anything to do with something supernatural, but it is pretty good. I've started and am nearly halfway done a very supernatural story though which I'll hope to post to you all tomorrow.
Ok, one last thing before I leave you to enjoy... I am coming up to my 600th review (thank you guys SOOOO much!), and as a little something to the person who gives me my 600th review... I want anyone who reviews to this one shot to leave their name in the review. I'm going to make a one shot with the name of whoever gives my 600th review as one of the main characters to work with (haha, or against?) our very favorite brothers. Well... read on and enjoy!
(sorry guys... i've had to re-post this three times now in the last ten minutes... this story is being a little jerk)
Title: Without You
Genre: Angst and fluff... and is sad a genre? Haha...
Summary: WeeChester! After Dean forgets to pick up Sam from school, the younger Winchester decides to try and walk. The rain slick roads are too much for a car though, and twelve year old Sam soon wakes up in the ER. Alone.
Dean had promised to be there. Promised to pick Sam up from school at exactly four-thirty. He always came then to let Sam have an hour inside the library to study or just chat with friends. But at four-thirty Dean Winchester promised to be there to pick up his twelve year old brother.
He wasn't.
"Come on Dean," Sam sighed as a light drizzle started to fall down on his head.
The doors leading back into the school were locked or else Sam would have wandered back inside to seek refuge from the quickly dimming weather. Sighing, Sam looked each way and then down at his watch. It was five after five, and Sam knew that Dean had forgotten to pick him up. Ever since Dean had turned seventeen, Sam had been teasing him that he was getting forgetful in his old age, and now the younger brother wondered if those words were maybe true.
"Fine," Sam huffed, "I'll just walk home. But Dad is going to hear about this one."
The walk back to their small rental house was nearly four miles, a distance which Sam usually had driven by either his Dad or brother. The odd time he'd walk it if he felt like getting some exercise, but with a loud crack of thunder echoing in the sky, Sam realized he really didn't want to be walking today.
The first many blocks went by quickly as Sam walked fast in order to hopefully beat the downpour home. It was when another loud crack of thunder erupted out and rain began to fall in buckets that Sam slowed his pace. He was drenched in seconds, and figured that the only thing that walking faster would do, would wear him out. Coming to a usually slow intersection, Sam glanced both ways before quickly heading across.
He never even saw the blue car coming at him until it was too late.
The vehicle tried to stop for the stop sign, but the tires were useless against the rain slicked road, and the next thing Sam remembered was intense pain radiating through his entire right side, and then the bizarre feeling of being air born. With a solid thump, the preteen landed hard on the pavement nearly ten feet away from the car.
Sam tried to hold onto consciousness. A man cried out. Rain splattered against his blood soaked face. Someone placed a hand against his arm.
Then nothing…
The next thing Sam was aware of was laying down, and a bright light being above him. Numerous people were talking, but the words didn't make sense, and Sam wished people would just be quiet. His head pounded with every piece of noise, and with that came a sharp pain radiating up his right arm.
"Can you hear me?" a voice that made sense squeezed through Sam's brain as a person looked down on him.
Sam tried to move his head to nod, but found that something was stopping his neck from being able to move at all. Panic filled his body and immediately he felt his heart beat quicken inside his chest, and his breathing become more labored.
"Just calm down," the voice of the man was comforting, "You're in the hospital, and have a neck brace on. Don't try and move your head, just answer yes or no if you can. Do you understand?"
"Y-Yes," Sam stuttered out.
"Good," the man nodded, "My name is Doctor Phillips. But you can call me plain old Phil, alright?"
"Yes."
"Perfect," Dr. Phil nodded, "Can you tell me your name?"
"My head hurts," Sam whispered out, tears creeping down his face.
"Everything's going to be ok," Dr. Phil placed a hand on Sam's chest, "We're going to fix you up. Do you remember what happened?"
"A-A car?" Sam spoke in the form of a question.
"That's right, you were hit by a car," Dr. Phil turned towards one of the medics there and spoke quickly about talking to the police, "Now I need you to try and remember your name, or maybe your Mom or Dad's?"
"M-My brother," Sam felt his whole body begin to shake, "He-he left me."
"What's your brother's name?" Dr. Phil asked as he worked slowly on cutting away Sam's blood soaked shirt from his body.
More tears came down Sam's face now, "…I don't know."
"It's alright, everything's going to be ok," Dr. Phil smiled, "How about we call you Sport until we find out your name, ok?"
"Ok," Sam's voice went back to a whisper.
"Alright, Sport, I'm going to give you something now that will make you sleepy," Dr. Phil took a needle from one of the nurses beside him, "But don't worry, ok? I'll be here when you wake up."
"O-Ok."
When Sam awoke next, his entire body felt numb. He was laying on something more comfortable now, and the lights weren't quite so bright. As he woke more fully, a dull thump bounced in his head in time with his heart beat, and he couldn't move his right arm. His eyes widening, Sam looked around at his surroundings. There was several beds in the large room, each one separated from the next by tall curtains. A low hum of conversation came from the other beds as people surrounded the subjects. Tears burned in Sam's eyes as he noticed no one was there with him.
"Dad…" Sam whispered out, the tears giving way down his bruised face, "…Dad!"
Almost instantly a nurse in lilac scrubs walked up to Sam with a smile on her face, "Hi there buddy. You're awake."
"My Dad," Sam was full on crying now, "Please… I want to see my Dad."
"I'll be right back," the nurse spoke like she was talking to a three year old, "I'll see what's going on."
Sam remained laying in the bed, sobbing as he frantically looked around for any sign of anything familiar. His head began to hurt more along with his arm and side. Just as the Winchester was about to try and get up and look around, the familiar face of Dr. Phil came into Sam's secluded part of the recovery ward.
"Hey Sport, how are you feeling?" he asked walking to Sam, already knowing the answer, "Do you remember who I am?"
Sam's lower lip trembled as he spoke, "P-Phil."
"That's great," Dr. Phil opened Sam's eyes up one at a time, and shinned a light into them.
"My Dad, please," Sam begged, "Please, I want to see my Dad."
Dr. Phil looked down at Sam, "Do you know his name Sport? Or your name? Either will help me get your Dad to you."
Sam thought about this a moment, and spoke quietly, "…my name is Sam."
"Sam," Dr. Phil grinned, "It's nice to meet you Sam. Can you remember your last name, or your phone number?"
Sam breathed through the growing pain in his body, "Umm… W-Winchester. My name is Sam Winchester. Dad's name is John. Please, can you get him."
"Sure thing," Dr. Phil nodded his head, "I'll get one of my friends to call him up right away. First I just need to ask you a few more questions, ok? See how bad you knocked that noggin of yours."
"Ok," silent tears remained falling down Sam's cheeks.
"Do you remember what happened?" Dr. Phil asked the same question as in the ER.
"I was hit by a car," Sam's voice sounded small as he answered this.
"Ok," Dr. Phil nodded, "Do you know what town you're in?"
"Umm," Sam struggled for a moment to think of the answer, "R-Rivergrove North Carolina."
"Excellent," Dr. Phil nodded, "Now you spoke of a brother in the ER. Do you remember him?"
Sam's eyes widened as more tears came down his face, "D-Dean… he left me…"
"Left you?"
Sam nodded, "Dean was s-supposed to pick me up from school. But he didn't. H-He left me, so I tried walking home. D-Dean must h-have been mad-mad at me…"
Sam's whole body shook, and he squeezed his eyes shut as the thoughts passed through his head. Sam knew that he pissed off his brother a lot. Hell, he did it intentionally sometimes just to reinstate his roll as little brother. Frantically Sam tried to remember what he had done to make him mad this time, and made a mental note to apologize for anything he had done.
"No Sam," Dr. Phil spoke softly, "I don't think your brother was mad at you. He probably just forgot."
"No," Sam whispered, "No… this is my fault… he was mad at me."
Dr. Phil smiled, "How old is your brother Sam?"
"S-Seventeen," Sam's lip trembled some more.
"Alright," Dr. Phil placed a comforting hand on Sam's leg, "At that age all they ever talk about is girls, isn't it?"
A small smile touched Sam's lips at the truth, "Y-Yeah."
"Then I bet," Dr. Phil spoke confidently, "That your brother was caught up with a girl. I bet he forgot about picking you up, and right now is really sorry, and really upset that he forgot."
"I-It's not my fault?" Sam questioned.
"Of course not," Dr. Phil shook his head, "It was all just an accident, and nobodies fault. Now, before I go get a hold of your Dad, does your head still hurt right now?"
Sam nodded.
"Ok," Dr. Phil marked some things down on Sam's chart, "I'm going to get the nurse to give you something. It'll make you tired, so you'll probably go to sleep again. But when you wake up, I'll bet you'll feel much better, and I even bet your Dad will be here."
"Thank you," Sam whispered out.
True to what Dr. Phil said, a nurse came in and put something into Sam's IV line. Minutes later the twelve year old fell asleep again. Though it appeared on the outside that he was sleeping soundly, on the inside Sam tossed and turned as his dreams twisted the accident horribly. Suddenly it was Dean who was driving the car that hit him, and all he could do was laugh, saying that Sam deserved it. By the time Sam once again began to wake up, his mind had almost once again fully convinced itself that it was Sam's fault and that Dean was mad. That was why Dean had left him.
"…Sammy…"
A voice that sounded scared and yet comforting at the same time leaked into Sam's semiconscious state. He felt someone brush their hand across his face lightly, and push back some hair that had fallen overtop.
"Hey Sammy… it's Dad… can you wake up for me buddy?"
Dad!
Sam forced his tired eyes open, and looked over to the face of his Dad. John smiled at his son, his face seeming to have aged ten years since the last time Sam had seen him. Getting up from his chair beside Sam, John sat down on the edge of the bed by Sam.
"Hey Sammy," once again John brushed his hand across Sam's bruised face, "How are you?"
"I was scared Dad," Sam whispered out, tears once again threatening to escape.
"Shh, it's ok," John leaned down and rested his forehead against Sam's, "I'm here… it's ok."
With a small sob, Sam swung his left arm around his Dad and held onto him tight in a half hug. Ignoring any pain that pulsed through his body, Sam breathed in the smell of his Dad's leather jacket and aftershave.
Finally John moved back, "Everything's alright Sammy…"
"It hurt Dad," Sam forced himself to stay calm.
"I know," John kept one hand firmly around Sam's left hand, "The doctor said that you bumped your head pretty hard, and they had to do a little bit of surgery to fix your arm. But you'll be ok. You just need to rest. You'll stay here in the hospital for a couple of days."
At that Sam looked around and saw that he had been moved into a smaller, more private room. He also noticed that Dean was nowhere in sight, which brought a cold feeling to the young hunter's stomach.
"Dean," Sam spoke softly, "W-Where's Dean?"
"He went to get a drink from the cafeteria," John explained, "Do you want me to go get him?"
Sam sadly shook his head, "No… he's mad at me."
John's face scrunched up, "He's not mad at you Sammy, he's worried about you right now. Why would think he was mad?"
"He left me," Sam choked on his own words, "I made him mad, and that's why he left me at the school."
John felt heartsick at his son's words, "No… no Sam. Listen to me. Nobody in this family will ever be left alone just because someone is mad at them. Ever. Understand?"
Wordlessly Sam nodded. John squeezed Sam's hand affectionately and smiled down at his youngest son. Slowly the elder man let his heartbeat return to a somewhat normal pace. He wasn't sure what was worse; the hours not knowing where Sam was, or finally finding out where he actually was. It was over now though; the doctor had said that with time Sam would be at full health again.
"Sammy…" a voice at the door snapped John back to reality and he looked over to see Dean standing awkwardly by the door.
With a smile on his face, John got up and looked down at Sam, "Hey Sammy, I'm going to go grab a bite. I'll be back ok?"
Sam nodded as John turned and walked to the door. With a reassuring grin, John placed a hand on Dean's shoulder and patted it reassuringly. His face scrunched up in emotions, Dean walked over to Sam's bed.
"I'm so sorry Sammy…" a small tear rolled down Dean's face as he looked at his bruised and battered brother.
Sam shook his head, tears falling at the sight of his brother's emotions, "It wasn't your fault Dean. I should have waited."
Dean sat at the spot that John had once been sitting at on the bed, "Are you alright Sam?"
"It hurts," Sam admitted before quickly putting in, "But not that bad."
Dean smiled, "Liar."
"…I'm really sorry Dean," Sam then whispered out, "For making you mad."
"I wasn't mad at you," Dean pulled back some hair from around the bandage on Sam's forehead, "You could… you could never make me mad at you enough to break a promise to you. Sammy… I'm so sorry I wasn't there for you when you needed me," Dean washed his hand down his face, "I-I really screwed up this time."
"No Dean!" Sam cried out, "Please don't feel bad. Don't… please."
"I got you hurt Sammy…" Dean swallowed down the lump in his throat, "…I wasn't there."
"No Dean," Sam sobbed out, "Please don't blame yourself. Phil said it was just an accident. It was nobodies fault."
Dean stared down at his hands, and mumbled out, "You forgive me then for not being there to pick you up?"
"Of course Dean!" Sam smiled, happy just that Dean wasn't mad at him, and wishing he could hug him, "But… just out of curiosity… why didn't you show up?"
Dean blushed slightly as he looked up at his little brother, "There was this really… 'busty' person who was working at the store downtown…"