Okay, so this scene's been on my mind for a while now, and I decided to write it down and get rid of it for good ;)
Warnings: As you know, english is my second language, and you'll probably find lots of errors, which I apologize for in advance.
This could be placed into a future fic or AU, whichever. It's supposed to be One shot but I might write more of it in the future. Kind of pointless, I know, but I had to get it out.
Dean had been sitting in the old wooden chair beside Sam's bed for the past six hours, watching Sam struggle to breath, the sound, a disturbing wheeze penetrating the silence of the room. Sam hadn't woken since the attack, since he, Dean bitterly reminded himself, was poisoned by an angry demon- bitten viciously and poisoned- while Dean was out sulking in a bar. He wasn't there to protect him, he wasn't there to save him. And if it wasn't for his father's friend, his brother would have died.
Dean cast another glance at his watch. He had injected Sam with the medicine two hours ago, so that leaves another two hours before the next injection. It worried him that Sam hadn't woken up yet. He occasionally tossed and thrashed weakly but what worried Dean most was the sound of his breathing. Sometimes it sounded like his brother was being strangled and the sound brought back more unpleasant memories for Dean. He sighed and wondered what was taking his dad too long.
Dean was tired, his body sore, but he feared giving in to rest. He feared if he let his guard down he'd miss the time of Sam's next injection, or worse, Sam might stop breathing. He had to stay awake and he will.
John had told Dean that they'd take shifts watching over Sam, but his dad hasn't returned since he went to drive that guy, what was his name again? Yeah, Kiethan, the one who saved Sam's life and made the medicine that will cure him.
Dean began to worry when John still hasn't called nor arrived during the next hour. He almost dozed off when the door opened, causing Dean to jump in his chair and unconsciously reach for his gun, but it was his father. Dean lowered the gun slowly.
"Dad, where were you?" Dean's tone was laced with hidden anger and frustration. But then he looked at his dad and knew, right away, that there was something bad, something wrong.
"What's going on?" Dean asked hoarsely.
John looked worn out as he approached him, his eyes scanned Sam's limp and fever-racked body, before turning back to his eldest son. "Any change?"
Now he knew there was something wrong for sure. Dean shook his head.
"Dean," John held his son's gaze, and for a moment Dean could see the hesitation in John's eyes and it made his stomach do queasy flip flops, "A pack is coming."
Dean blinked in confusion. "A pack?"
John nodded hastily, "Yes, a pack of demons. An army."
John paused for a moment, "For Sam."
Dean felt something cold grab his chest, but his face remained emotionless. "They're coming for Sam?"
John nodded, and held Dean's eyes again, this time not breaking the contact as he voiced his command. "I want you to take Sam and drive away. I will stay and create diversion."
Dean blinked then the meaning of his father's words hit him. "I'm not leaving you."
"No," Dean snapped angrily, "I'm not going to leave you, dad. You can't face them alone, not that many."
"We'll leave together, right now, the three of us."
John shook his head. "There's no time, they'll catch up with us as soon as we leave."
Dean swallowed, and mentally struggled for control. "I'm not going to leave you."
John was silent for a fraction of a second, "If you want to save Sammy, you will."
Dammit, this is not happening! Don't do this!
"Dad, don't do this."
John could almost sense hatred vibrating in his eldest son's voice. He looked at him sadly. "Dean, the only chance we've got, the only chance Sammy's got, is if I stay and divert their attention for awhile. "You'll have a head start. I've already put some traps on your car. That should give you a good chance to escape."
Dean shook his head. "And give you a good chance of dying."
"I'll take care of myself."
"You can't face them alone."
"Dean," John was impatient now, "we are wasting precious time now. Each second we waste could mean Sam's life."
Dean shook his head again.
"Are you willing to lose your brother?"
Dean's head snapped up, and his eyes glinted with anger. "No I'm not, but I'm not willing to lose you either."
"There's a chance I could make it, but if you stay, Sam will not have any chance. They'll get their hands on him Dean. They'll take Sammy, and God knows what plans they have for him. Are you willing to let your brother get caught by these evil bastards?"
"You told me once, you'd do anything for Sam. Did you mean that?"
"Of course I did."
"Then you do this. You do this or we lose Sam forever, and I don't know about you but I can't live with that."
Dean was loosing control steadily, his hands and lips began to tremble, and breathing became suddenly difficult.
John nodded, satisfied. "Pack what you need quickly. Don't forget Sam's medication."
For a moment Dean was frozen in his place, his mind seemed to cease working but then a snap from John brought him back to his senses and he forced his legs and mind to work. He began to pack the important stuff. First Sam's medicine, some clothes, money.
John knelt over Sam's limp form, his hands trembled as they stroked his youngest son's untidy locks. "It's okay Sammy. Everything's going to be all right."
When Dean finished packing, he and John dressed Sam and carried him to the car and placed him safely in the passenger seat. John leaned over Sam and couldn't help but shake a little as he buried his face in his son's hair, feeling him, smelling him, maybe for the last time. He planted a deep kiss against Sam's forehead and hugged him close and for a long moment he didn't want to let go. Sam stirred slightly but remained limp in his father's arms. "I'm sorry, Sammy. I love you, son."
Dean watched and felt something crack inside of him at the sight of his father holding Sam emotionally.
John regained some of his composure and tore himself away from Sam. He stood facing Dean.
Dean swallowed hard. "Dad-"
John covered the distance between them in two steps and before Dean knew, he was being pulled into his father's strong arms. John hugged Dean close. Both Father and son shook and trembled and fought for control. After a moment, John pulled away, his hands shifting to grab Dean's shoulders.
Dean didn't trust himself to talk so he kept his lips pressed firmly together.
"I know I don't say it enough nor show it, but I love you son."
Dean's mask wavered a bit before slipping back.
"And I've always been proud of you, Dean." John sighed as he placed a warm hand against his son's cheek, "Take care of Sammy for me."
Dean nodded wordlessly.
"Good," and with a smile John walked away and back to the camp.
Dean remained glued to his spot until his father's voice penetrated the fog clouding his mind. "Dean, go now!"
It took him a moment to comprehend the words and then he sluggishly moved toward the car and slid inside. He glanced briefly at Sam's still form, making sure his brother's chest was still rising and falling.
"Dammit, go now!"
"For Sammy's sake Dean, go no!"
And the car came alive with an angry roar. John watched until the car carrying the two most important people in his life vanished from view, then slowly he turned back and walked firmly to the camp. He has a war to fight- a war that could most likely end his life, but his boys were safe and that was what mattered most.
The more distance they covered, the more Dean felt like his world was falling apart. The feeling intensified until it became unbearable. If he loses his dad then half his world will be gone. He'll have no sense of purpose, his life will be pointless. Then a soft noise from his right corrected him.
Dean turned to his brother and watched as Sam tossed yet again. His heart ached but his hand instinctively flew to his brother's chest, comforting him. The touch instantly quieted Sam and he stilled again.
As he stared at his brother, Dean realised that Sam was still here and he needed him, so no matter what happened, he'll always be there for him. He'll always protect him. They'll always be together and no one will tear them apart-ever. Sam was his world now-his whole world and he'll spend the rest of his life trying to keep it safe.
A quick glance at the time, made him curse: he was a minute late for Sam's injection. He stopped the car and fumbled with the bag, retrieving a syringe and the medicine. After filling it up and emptying it from air, he turned to his brother and after taking his jacket off, he exposed his arm.
Sam began to moan and turn, and this time fluttered his eyes open.
Sam blinked and focused with difficulty on his brother's eager face. "Dean?" he croaked hoarsely, "What happened?"
Dean shuddered inwardly but kept a brave face for his brother. "Remember, you were attacked by that demon?"
Sam licked his lips and then nodded.
"Well, its bite was poisonous, and I have to inject you with this," Dean said raising his hand for his brother's inspection, "every four hours."
"Sam, I have to do it now."
Sam nodded and offered his arm. Dean smiled encouragingly before he injected his brother with the medicine.
"Why are we in the car? Where's dad?" Sam fought to cover his pain, but Dean noticed.
Dean didn't reply, and few seconds later Sam began to frown. "What happened, Dean? Where's dad?"
"Dad left us again, Sam."
Sam blinked. "What? What do you mean left again? He said he wouldn't leave."
"Well, he lied," Dean replied coldly.
"I don't understand," Sam began to panic, a feeling which slowly began to melt away as his eyes became too heavy to keep open, "He said he wouldn't-"
A minute later Sam was sleeping again, and Dean allowed emotions to slip back into his face. He covered Sam with his jacket, took a deep breath, then drove away into the unseen future.