Hey guys… here's another limp Sam story, and I don't think this idea has ever been done… So let me know what you think…
I own nothing to do with supernatural… It's all Kripke's. Song by Breaking Benjamin...
So sacrifice yourself,
and let me have what's left.
I know that I can find
the fire in your eyes.
I'll throw it all away,
get away, please.
Seventeen year old Sam Winchester walked down the street, his friend Jake right beside him. They were talking about the upcoming Academic Decathlon competition, where Sam would compete in the Honors division, his subject, history.
"So hey, are you still coming to the last event when eighth period ends?" Sam asked Jake, worry hidden in his voice.
"Yeah I told you I would be there, and have I ever broken a promise?" Jake asked, trying to placate the anxiousness that he could tell Sam was feeling.
"No, but I just wanted to make sure. I mean with my dad and Dean going out of town tonight, and not coming back till next week; well I just wanted to make sure that someone could come." Sam said, clear relief lining his tone.
"Aw, you really love… Don't worry Sammy, I'll be there for you forever and ever." Sam laughed as Jake grabbed a hold of his arm, pretending to cling to him, while looking up at him with doe eyes.
Sam shook Jake off, still laughing. "Sorry I don't swing that way, man." Jake looked at him with pretend tears, and Sam lowered his voice. "I'm sorry to crush all your hopes and dreams, but I appreciate female anatomy very much." Sam tried to keep a straight face, and Jake tried to keep up his act, but in the end they both ended up laughing.
Sam walked with Jake to his house, and after talking with him for a few minutes; he put his headphones on, and walked back down the driveway and down the road toward the apartment he, Dean and his father were staying in.
Sam had been walking for five minutes, when he arrived at home. He started to cross the street when he remembered the mail and walked back across the street to the mailbox. He grabbed the mail and started walking back across the street, flipping through the letters.
Sam never heard the truck heading straight for him; he never saw the horrified look on the driver's face, as he was hit on the side of the head with the rearview mirror of the truck. All he felt was the impact on the side of his head, and all he saw was the rushing darkness as he lost consciousness.
Dean Winchester looked up from the bag he was packing when he heard the screeching of tires right outside the house. He looked out the window of his bedroom, and saw a big dark blue truck stopped in the middle of the road. The driver got out and looked around, then he walked back toward something near his back tires.
Dean crinkled his forehead, wondering what the man was looking at, and decided to go check it out. He grabbed his bag, and walked down the hall. Dean set his bag on the table and walked out the door. Seeing the guy still stopped he walked toward him, what he heard next froze his blood.
"Somebody help!" Dean took off at a run, all the while praying it wasn't Sam. He knew it wasn't their father; he was still in the house, getting ready to leave.
Dean ran around the truck, stopping when he saw Sam. His brother was lying on the ground, blood running down the side of his head, his eyes closed. The lack of movement made Dean's heart clench.
Dean dropped to his knees next to his brother, and felt for a pulse, ignoring the man that was standing beside them. His relief when he felt the unsteady thump beneath his fingers was short lived. Just as he felt the heart beat, Sam's chest hitched and he breathing stopped altogether.
He dug his cell phone out of his pocket and threw it at the man who was still yelling for help. "Call 9-1-1!" When Dean knew the man was doing what he asked, he turned back to his brother.
Not wanting to move his brother's head, but not having a choice; Dean carefully tilted Sam's head back and blew into his mouth. He looked up to see his father drop to his knees beside him, horror etched onto his face.
"Dad," Dean said and when the man didn't look at him, Dean called his name louder. "DAD!" His father's head turned sharply in his direction, and Dean continued; "do compressions, and I'll do breaths." His father nodded, and he started compressions, while Dean moved into a better position to help his little brother breathe.
Dean heard the sirens before he saw the ambulance, and he mentally cheered, while still keeping up with the CPR. Dean was pulled out of the way as paramedics surrounded Sam, and he could hear his father cursing, so he could guess that his father had been pulled away too.
"Blunt trauma to the head," one of the medics reported as the other checked Sam's gag reflex. Finding no resistance, a tube was inserted into Sam's mouth and pushed down his throat. The medic then attached a translucent blue bag to the tube, and squeezed it methodically, to give Sam air.
"Pupils are uneven and have a sluggish response, we're looking at a severe concussion and possible brain damage. This kid needs to get to the hospital fast." As the medic finished talking, he wrapped a neck brace around Sam's neck, and then transferred him from the asphalt to a backboard.
Sam was strapped onto a stretcher and then loaded into the back of the waiting ambulance. When Dean went to follow, one of the paramedics put his hand up, stopping him.
"I'm sorry sir, but you are going to have to follow us to the hospital, there isn't enough room in the back of the ambulance for you to ride, while we work." Dean reluctantly nodded.
As Dean started to walk away, the paramedic stopped him once again. "Sir before we leave, can you tell us his name, age, and if he is allergic to any medications?"
"Sam Winchester, he's seventeen, and he's not allergic to anything that we know of." The medic nodded and hopped into the back of the ambulance, as he thanked Dean for the information.
Dean got into his father's truck and he and his father took off after the ambulance, all the while praying that Sam would be okay.
I know this story is a little unorthodox, but I had this idea for a while and wanted to post it to see what people thought.
Review and take care… and I will let Dean shoot at the fabric softener teddy bear.