I know that this has been done before, but stick with me, what if something different had happened when Sam told his father and brother that he had been accepted to Stanford?
Sam walked cautiously behind his father, shotgun at the ready to shoot the poltergeist that had been haunting a farm in the town of Lyndonville, New York. The farm was fairly ordinary in the sense that there was livestock, and a lot of crops. The only thing that was different from the rest of the farms was the menacing spirit that had been on a killing rampage throughout the years.
Sam held the packet of herbs tightly in one hand and the shotgun in the other as he split apart from his father to take the north end of the house. He prayed that the poltergeist wouldn't figure out what he was doing, but he knew that was a highly unlikely probability. He just hoped that he could get the packet of herbs in place before the angry spirit decided to take him out.
He still had to talk to his father and Dean more about going to Stanford. He had told them about the acceptance letter that morning when they had been driving to the farm, and it hadn't gone over well.
"Dad there is something I want to tell you," Sam's voice was small and afraid, but he was determined to tell his father about the college.
"What is it Sammy?" The man asked, checking in the rearview mirror to see Sam's face.
"You know that I'm eighteen and that I am going to be making my own decisions soon right?" Sam asked his voice quivering, as he saw his father's eyes lock onto his in the mirror.
"Yes," The man said skeptically.
"Well the thing is, I was thinking about leaving and going to college in the fall, and before you say anything just hear me out." Sam added, seeing his father open his mouth to start talking. "I already got excepted to Stanford, and I got a full-ride scholarship for my grades. I could still hunt if you needed me, but I really want to go." Sam's voice was hopeful, but John's face hardened the only words he heard from his youngest son being, 'leaving', 'fall', and 'Stanford.'
"What do you mean you want to leave?" John growled, "after all that your brother and I have done for you, this is how you repay us... by leaving?"
Sam's eyes were downcast as soon as he heard the tone of voice his father had taken. He had known that his father wouldn't be happy about him going away to college, but he didn't think that he would actually lay a guilt trip on him like he had. "Dad-" Sam started to say, but John cut him off almost as soon as he had opened his mouth.
"No Sam! If you want to leave fine! At the end of this hunt, you pack your bags, but if you walk way from this family, don't you ever expect to come back again." John's voice was low, and Sam glanced away from the glaring eyes in the mirror. His gaze landed on Dean, who looked torn between happiness and betrayal for his younger brother.
Sam was torn out of his thoughts by the sudden drop in temperature in the room, and he immediately knew he had to get the packet of herbs into the hole he had made in the wall, before the spirit decided it would be nice to kill him. Sam shoved the packet in the hole just as he felt an invisible force grab him.
Sam was thrown backwards, and through the closed window. The whole time he was falling, all he could think about was how stupid he had been when he had told his father and brother about Stanford that morning. He knew that when he hit the ground it was gonna hurt, after all he had been on the second floor of the house, but he had nothing to prepare him for what happened next.
Dean mulled over what his brother had told him and their father this morning.
He knew that Sammy was smart, but he had never thought that he would get into a school like Stanford. He knew that Sam had wanted to leave the hunting life, but to go all the way to Stanford, with only little more than a month's notice. He must hate hunting a lot for him to want to leave like that.
Either that or there was something or someone else that he hated so much.
Dean pushed away the unpleasant thoughts and went on with the job he had been assigned. He took the axe and after finding a hollow spot in the wall, he used the axe to break through and make a hole big enough to fit a packet in. He then shoved it in, and walked out of the room, to find his father and brother.
John growled angrily to himself when he thought about what Sam had told him and Dean. Sure there was pride in him, when he thought about the grades that Sam must have gotten to be able to get into Stanford, and get a full ride scholarship; but to just up and leave like that... Unforgivable.
But did you really have to tell him to leave and not come back?
After all Sam had offered to still go hunting with them when he was needed. It wasn't like the boy had been on full hunting duty with Dean and him anyway; what with having just finished high school.
John sighed, and scrubbed a hand over his face. He had to focus on ridding the house of the poltergeist before he worried about Sam and the whole Stanford, leaving, situation.
John could feel the malevolence in the room, and felt the hairs on his neck stand on end. He quickly broke a hole in the wall, and shoved in the packet, but not before he heard the sound of breaking glass and the distinct sound of his youngest son's cry.
Sam didn't remember the tractor being parked so close to the house, nor did he remember the bailing spear on the front of it being pointed up. He did however feel the spear pushing through his shoulder, and ripping through muscle and bone. He heard a cry, but it took a moment for him to realize that the horrendous sound had come from him.
It was getting hard to breath through the pain; a technique he had been taught to do since he had been a little boy, and had fallen from his bike at Father Jim's. His knees and palm had been torn up and Dean had taught him to breath through the pain, but it wasn't helping him now.
He knew Dean and his father must have heard him with their trained senses, but he couldn't bring himself to care about anything but the pain at the moment. It made him nauseous to think about his shoulder, and he was already lightheaded from hitting his head when he had hit the tractor.
There was a bright flash from the house and Sam knew that his father and Dean had gotten through the exorcism, and he was happy for that. Happy that it wasn't all in vain.
He could hear voices coming closer, and strangely the pain in his shoulder stopped, leaving him feeling cold and weak. He couldn't seem to concentrate on anything, even when he felt something land on his good shoulder, or when the voices got closer.
John and Dean both ran for the room Sam had been in when they heard the cry; and seeing the broken window, both immediately ran outside, afraid what they would see when they got there, just knowing that they had to get to Sam, and that they had to get to him fast.
John was the first one to the door, and when he looked outside, all the breath left his body. He pressed the screen door open, not caring if he broke it, right now all that mattered was getting to Sam.
"Sammy!" To his own ears, his voice sounded anxious.
He ran to him and dropped to his knees beside his wounded son, gasping at all the damage that had been done. His son lay with the bailing spear, 'speared' through his shoulder, and his head was bleeding from what must have been a cut to the back of his head from hitting it on the tractor. There was blood all around him, but John didn't dare move him for fear of doing more damage.
He grabbed Sam's hand and noticed the fine tremble that ran through it and his whole body, and he instinctively knew that Sam was going to into shock. He also noticed that when he had called out to Sam, the boy hadn't responded to him, or even acknowledged that he had heard him at all.
Seeing Sam's eyes start to close and hating himself for what he was about to do, John grabbed Sam's good shoulder, and shook him, jarring Sam awake with a cry. "Sammy, come on, stay awake for me, for us; we're gonna get you help; you're going to be fine." He didn't know who the words were for, himself or Sam, but at the moment he didn't care. He looked over at Dean to tell him to call an ambulance, but the boy was already calling for one, so he turned his attention back to Sam.
"M'sorry," Sam slurred, and John was confused.
"For what?" John asked, but the small moment of lucidness had already passed, and Sam could barely keep his eyes open once more. "Damn it, Sammy! I swear to God that if you come through this, I will let you go to any damn college that you want, just please hold on." John's voice was low, but he knew Dean could hear him, at the moment it didn't matter though; nothing did except Sammy.
"'S cold," Sam whispered, more to himself than anyone else; but John and Dean had heard te low comment, and both were taking off their jackets to lay over the shivering man in front of them. Sam's eyes were glazed and dull, and John could tell that Sam wasn't really with them at the moment, but there wasn't much he could do about that fact, all him and Dean could do was to try and keep Sammy awake.
"Do you remember when you and Dean were little, Sam?" John asked, desperate to find something, anything, to keep Sam awake. When Sam looked at him, his glazed eyes trying to focus a little, John went on. "Do you remember how the two of you tried to take on that ghost in that old Massachusetts apartment we were staying at because you thought you would make me proud?"
John smiled at the memory and without waiting for an answer, he went on. "You two thought you were strong enough to take down the ghost because it was a five year old little gilr, and you were six and Dean was ten, so you thought you could double team it, and take it down together to surprise me?" John spared a glance at Dean in time to see the younger man shrink back and wince at the memory. John smirked and turned his attention back to Sam, who was struggling to hold on to lucidness and consciousness.
"I can still remember the look on your face when you figured out that a five year old girl could take on both you and Dean. That was the first time that you had broken your wrist, if I remember correctly, and even though you were in pain, you still wanted to make me proud, so you kept going without even telling Dean that your arm hurt. I can still see the look on your face when you and Dean did kill the ghost, your eyes were shimmering with pride and with pain; and I was so damn proud of you, but I was so damn angry too, especially when I saw you were hurt." John cut his story off, as he heard the first car screech into the driveway, and then drive up across the lawn to meet the Winchesters at the tractor.
"Dad?" Sam asked, and when John looked at him he whispered, "'m tired." His eyes closed and John had to fight down the panic that threatened to tear him apart.
"SAM!" The yell came from right beside him and when John looked over he saw Dean trying to get to Sammy, but there was a man there holding him back, telling him that they needed room to work. It was then that John noticed the fire department, and the paramedics had arrived, but he wasn't about to leave Sam alone. He moved to Sam's good side and took a hold of his limp hand, rubbing circles on the back of it, and he watched the firemen and the paramedics work together to save Sam. Finally John was pushed away, though two men had to hold him there to keep him away from Sammy, who was just lying there so still amongst the chaos that ensued around him.
A breath mask had been placed over Sam's mouth and nose, and gauze was being held around the spear with an ace wrap, to try and stem the blood flow. John watched in morbid fascination as the firemen brought over a saw, and after covering Sam with a lead weighted vest, and placing a blanket over his head, the firemen proceeded to cut the spear, so Sam could be moved and taken by Merci Flight to ECMC where surgery would be performed immediately.
Six hours, and a Few fights later...
John nervously paced the inside of the Buffalo hospital waiting room. They had been in the hospital waiting for any news on Sam for over five hours now, and John was starting to get a little anxious. Dean had long since fallen asleep, not having gotten any rest for the past few days, it was no wonder why the poor kid was so tired.
Echoing footsteps sounded down the hall, and John immediately looked up, searching the man's face for any sign that he had been working on Sam, and any indication that something had gone wrong.
The man was taking off a hospital issue operating gown as he walked, telling John that he had just been operating, and since they were the only ones in the waiting room, he had to have been operating on Sam. There seemed to be a tired happiness in the way the man walked, and the twinkle in his eye let John release a breath he hadn't known he had been holding.
"Family of Samuel Conners?" The man asked as he came to a stop in the middle of the room. John went over and shook Dean awake, wanting his oldest son to know what the doctor was about to say.
"I'm his father, John; and this is his brother, Dean. Is Sammy going to be alright?" John asked, trying to keep the anxiety for his youngest from showing in his voice.
"My name is Dr. Feehan, and I first want to let you known that Sam is going to be just fine. Not to say that his recovery isn't going to take a while, but if Sam goes through the proper physical therapy, he should regain full use of his shoulder and arm. If I had seen this injury on someone who wasn't so fit and healthy, I would have doubts they would recover, but Sam is young and strong and I have full confidence that in the end he will be just fine." The doctor finished, and looked at the two, silently asking if they had any questions.
"Thank you Dr. Feehan, I really appreciate what you did for Sam, and this family." The doctor just smiled, and nodded, before he turned to walk away. "Can we see Sam?" John asked before the doctor had a chance to leave.
"Oh, sorry, yes you can see him. Sam has just been moved from recovery to a private room, and since I was just heading out, I can show you what room on the way." John and Dean both smiled and nodded in thanks.
The doctor lead the two to a room on the other side of the hospital, and after leaving his get well wishes, he left the two oldest Winchesters alone, by Sam's room. John pushed the door open, and looked Sam over, taking inventory of his injuries. There was a stark white bandage on Sam's head where he had hit the tractor, and all Sam wore was a pair of hospital scrub bottoms, and had the blankets pulled up over them leaving his mostly bare chest exposed. White bandages were wrapped around Sam's shoulder and upper chest; and a white strap held his shoulder immobile. The strap hooked around the opposite shoulder, and ran around his abdomen where two smaller straps held Sam's arm in place. An IV ran into his good hand, and a heart monitor was hooked onto his pointer finger, but other than that Sam looked a lot better than he had at the farm.
John sat next to his youngest son, hearing Dean take his place on Sam's other side, and picked up Sam's hand. Reassured by the warmth his hand held, the lack of equipment in the room, and what the doctor had said, John allowed some of the tension in his body to leave. Though he was relieved that Sam was going to be okay, there was another issue John had to deal with now...
How did he let his youngest son go, even if it was to college?
A/N: Okay there were a few things I felt I might need to explain.
1. A bailing spear is used to pick up round bails of hay or straw on a farm. It is about two and a half to three feet long, about an inch and a half in diameter, and isn't very sharp, unless the tractor is in motion, or you fall onto it.
2. Lyndonville is a real town on the coast of Lake Ontario in Western New York.
3. ECMC is a Buffalo hospital about an hour away from Lyndonville.
4. Merci Flight is a helicopter that transfers emergency patients to the hospital, because the hospital of Medina(town about twenty minutes away from Lyndonville) isn't equipped to handle serious situations such as the one presented in the passage.
If there are any more questions don't hesitate to ask, and please review.
Thank you for reading and take care...