Hey guys!! So as I take a break with my other story, trying to psyche up for chapter 8, I thought I'd get my Secret Santa fic under way. This fic is written for Faye Dartmouth, the queen of limp!Sammy…
I really hope she… and the rest of you enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural or even the general plot of this story… Though I do own the season one and two box-sets…
The Prompt: Sam plays sports behind John's back and gets himself hurt in the process. The only thing he can thing about is how much his dad is going to kill him. The sport, injury, and family's reaction is up to you.
'in the shadows
that i must learn to kill before i can feel safe
I rather kill myself then turn into there slave
I feel that I should go and play with the thunder
I just don't wanne stay and wait for a wonder'
The Rasmus - In the Shadows
Sam watched the players of his team run the football field. He had been on the bench for the past ten minutes, after having played most of the first half of the game. They were up fourteen to nothing, and Sam's coach had decided to let another player go in for a while, but if the looks the coach were giving Jones, he was about to call Sam back in.
"Winchester!" The call startled him from his reverie and he turned to look at his coach.
"Yeah coach?" The man looked at him, as if trying to study him, taking in every feature the youngest Winchester had to offer.
"I'm calling out Jones; I want you to go in." Sam nodded, smirking a little at being right, and stood from the bench.
He had been on the football team for a little over a month, and though it had been difficult to hide from his father, he enjoyed playing, and would continue to lie if it kept him on the team.
Its not like Dad doesn't like how everything's turned out. Sam mused, thinking to the praise his father had been giving him since he had joined the team. Sam had gotten faster during training exercises, and his coordination had also improved.
Dean had been a big support from the beginning, coming to games when he could, and helping Sam practice. He had bought Sam a second hand football when he had gotten on the team, and the ball had since been worn down to the point of almost falling apart.
"Now Winchester! Go!" The coach barked, effectively tearing him from his thoughts, and sending him jogging onto the waiting field. Through the cheers that rose from the bleachers behind him, Sam heard his brother. "Let's go Sammy!" The call should have annoyed him, and normally would have, but instead it seemed to steady his nerves.
Pulling on his helmet, Sam jogged into the middle of the field, backing just a few yards behind the fifty yard line; off to the side; and waited for the play to start. He heard Jimmy calling the plays, and looked around the field scoping out the opposing team, and his own, readying himself for the play.
Following the signal from his fellow player, Sam took off at a run for the end zone, turning halfway through to make sure he was ready for the ball if it came for him. And come the ball did…
Along with the other team's linebacker.
Sam caught the ball a split second before he was hit. It felt like a freight train plowing into him, and he heard more than felt the breath leave his lungs. Something snapped as the linebacker's shoulder met his ribs, and Sam gasped reflexively, feeling pain spear through him.
He was pushed to the ground, his leg bending awkwardly underneath both his and the other player's weight. A painful snap reverberated up his leg and through the rest of his body, stealing his already sparse air. His helmet came loose as his head smacked into the ground, his ears ringing with the impact, black spots threatening to swallow his vision.
The weight of the other player left, and he curled into himself, gasping and whimpering in pain as the movement jarred both his leg and his ribs. His vision grayed, and Sam had to fight to hold onto consciousness. He gnashed his teeth together, and tried to shake his head to lessen the spots filling his vision, only to have his sight worsen.
Clenching his eyes tightly together, Sam tried to clear his mind and take stock of the situation, already knowing it was bad. He most likely had a concussion. He knew his leg was at least broken, and he had at least one broken rib.
His father was going to murder him… There was no doubt about that.
His thoughts were clouded by pain, and Sam felt consciousness leaving him, even as hands grabbed him and tried to roll him over. He curled even tighter into himself, trying to get away from the pain. He prayed that he would lose consciousness, even as he prayed to stay awake and keep Dean from doing anything stupid.
Dean watched his brother get tackled as if in slow motion. He felt his anger spike as it had done a lot since his brother had joined the team, but he forced it down, not wanting to hit a seventeen-year-old kid, no matter how much he disliked them. He heard Sam's choked out cry, and could swear he heard the snap as his little brother's rib caved in beneath the pressure.
He was already standing as Sam was going down. He watched his baby brother's leg bend and snap awkwardly, and saw his helmet fly off, his head smacking the ground hard.
He was running as he heard Sam's whimpers and pained gasps, his senses tuned completely to his brother. Sam was hurting, and though Dean knew there were risks in football, he also didn't expect them to apply to his brother, especially not while he was in the bleachers watching it happen.
Dean slid to a stop at his brother's side even as the coach grabbed him and tried to roll him over. Dean grabbed the hands from his brother's back and side, and pushed the man away, not caring if he angered him or not at the moment.
His brother was the only thing that mattered.
Dean laid his hand on Sam's forehead and rubbed his temple in small, soft circles, trying to calm his brother and get Sam to focus on him instead of the pain. He needed to find out just how badly his brother was hurt, and if he was right, Sam was hurt badly.
Dad's going to kill us!Dean thought. He would kill Dean for keeping Sam's football a secret and Sam for playing in the first place.
Sam turned his head into Dean's touch and slit his eyes open. The pain and raw fear in them struck something in Dean, made his stomach clench and his heart ache for his little brother.
Through gentle hand movements and soft coaxing, Dean got Sam to slowly roll over and stretch out on the grass. By the time Sam was fully on his back, his head was thrown back into the grass, the tendons in his neck popping, as his face contorted in pain, his eyes clenched tightly and his teeth bared.
Moving his hands to the base of Sam's throat, Dean rubbed them up and down rhythmically, calling to his brother. After a moment Sam let out a breath and opened his eyes to peer up at Dean. Giving his brother a small reassuring smile which was barely returned, Dean turned to look Sam over, trying to figure out the damage.
Sam's leg was bent in an unnatural junction and without looking; Dean knew from the snaps, that both his leg and rib were broken. Looking back into his brother's eyes, Dean's concern spiked seeing the unfocussed glaze, and dilated pupils that Sam had a concussion.
"How you feeling, little brother?" Dean asked quietly, keeping most of his attention on Sam, while the other part wandered, looking to make sure the coach had called the paramedics over.
Dean couldn't believe all this had happened in the span of a few moments.
Two men came running over, a backboard being carried between them, and medical bags hanging from opposite shoulders. Turning his gaze from the medics, Dean looked around them to find most of the team standing in a protective circle around them, some looking angry and sure while others looked on with faces filled with worry.
Dean nodded to them and switched his attention fully to his brother. Sam was trembling in pain, little tremors running through his body. When Dean met his gaze it was clouded with fear and hurt.
"It's going to be okay, Sammy." Dean's voice was soothing and he felt Sam relax under his grip, watched as some of the tension left his body.
"Sir you're going to have to give us room," Dean turned to see a medic looking at him, his face filled with apology, and Dean nodded, moving to get up. A tight grip on his hand stopped him and he looked to Sam, his eyes hazy with fear.
"Don't leave," the plea was whispered, but powerful all the same. Dean gripped Sam's hand tight, and squeezed, trying to convey his strength through the touch.
"I'll be right over here Sammy." Dean whispered, looking from his brother to the medics, trying to ignore the pleading looks coming from both parties. "You'll be able to see me the whole time, and I'll keep an eye on you. Yah know? Make sure they don't do anything funny." Sam squeezed his hand, but nodded, letting his death grip on Dean's hand go.
"Can you tell me your name son?" The medic was in his place at Sam's side the second Dean stood, but Dean and Sam kept their eyes locked on each other.
"Sam Winchester." The reply was simple and shaky, making Dean's fear spike up a notch.
"Mmhhm, good. Where you are and what happened?" Sam tore his gaze from Dean as one medic grabbed his chin and held steady as the other wrapped a brace around his neck.
"Football game." Sam stopped and thought for a minute, as if trying to clear his thoughts. "I was hit." He looked to Dean, trying to see if he had answered right and Dean had to fight tears, seeing his brother so vulnerable and unsure.
Dean smiled and nodded, and watched as Sam looked back to the medic. "When were you born?"
"Uh… May," Sam swallowed hard and looked to Dean before squinting his eyes a little in concentration. "May second, eighty three?" The medic looked to Dean for conformation, and he gave a curt nod looking back to his little brother without a word.
"Okay," the medic sighed, tightening the straps on the stretcher around Sam, before looking to his partner. "You ready?" He asked.
"Good to go," he nodded, giving his partner a thumbs up.
"Okay Sam," Sam looked back to the man, and Dean could see his eyes closing in exhaustion even as he tried to comprehend what the man was saying. "You're going to feel a jostle, but my partner and I are going to pick you up and move you to the ambulance, okay?" Sam tried to nod, but found his head secured and unwilling to cooperate.
"M'kay," he said softly, instead. Despite his words, Sam whimpered as he was jerked into the air, and Dean growled.
They moved carefully to the waiting ambulance, and loaded Sam into the back, holding up a hand as Dean moved to get in. "Please?" Sam whispered, cutting off any explanation, any objection.
"Fine, but give us room to work," the man shrugged in apology, as Dean looked about ready to bite him.
"I'll stay out of the way, but there's no way you're leaving here without me. He's the only thing that matters right now." Dean answered even as he climbed in next to the man he had growled at. "You'll be okay, Sammy." He whispered, placing his hand on Sam's chest, above his heart.
A/N: Hey, so I hope you guys liked this… Especially Faye…
Tell me what you thought, and if there's any improvements to make…
Take care and review often,