Note: This is my first actual story for Supernatural so please be gentle.
Sam had a migraine and from what John could see, it was a doozy. He'd been watching it progress for about an hour now and it was making him worry.
He and the boys had been holing up in Nebraska while researching a string of mysterious disappearances. Dean had gone to scare up some cash, leaving John and Sam doing research in the hotel room. John had watched his youngest child work at his laptop out of the corner of his eye, trying to figure out how to start a conversation without it disintegrating into one of their legendary fights when he noticed Sam pinching the bridge of his nose. Before long, the pinch gave way to an outright grimace and then to him cradling his head in his hands.
John's heart ached as he watched his son; he hurt anytime one of his boys were hurt but knowing that Sam was hurting and there was really nothing he could do about it hurt even worse. He was about to suggest Sam lay down when his son's young face turned a very interesting shade of green and he made a beeline for the bathroom just in the nick of time if the sounds of retching were anything to go by.
John stumbled over to the bathroom and watched as his little boy threw up everything he'd eaten in the past few hours and then some. Finally, the vomiting seemed to stop but Sam didn't move from his position in front of the toilet
"Vision?" John winced at the hard tone of his voice but if Sam had a vision, they'd need to act quickly.
Sam shook his head, wincing as he did so, "No, just a regular migraine, if there ever was such a thing." There was brief pause before he spoke again, "Uhm, my medication is in Dean's bag. C-Could you get it for me, please?" His voice was oddly formal, like this was a stranger and not his father he was asking.
John frowned, mentally kicking himself for not knowing what to do; this was his son for God's sake! Sam had been suffering from migraines since he was a teenager and John didn't even know that Sam took anything for them other than Tylenol, though Dean did and that hurt.
He stalked over to where Dean's duffle bag was and after a little searching, found what he was looking for and frowned with concern when he didn't find the pills he expected but an injection kit. Not entirely sure what to do, he took the whole thing into the bathroom where Sam had managed to lever himself onto the edge of the bathtub.
"I-I don't know how you get this ready," John said, hating how insecure he sounded.
Sam shook his head, "It's okay, Dad, I'll get it." He took the kit from John and tried to prep it before John took it from him, seeing that Sam was way too shaky to hold a needle of any kind.
"Uhm, how 'bout you tell me how and I'll prep it for you." John nearly cried when he saw the surprise on Sam's face; God had he really been that hard on Sam as a child that the thought of him helping with something Sam clearly needed was a shock to him.
"Uhm, okay." Sam handed John the kit and quietly told him how to prep everything before taking the prepped needle from him and injecting himself.
After a few minutes, John could see that whatever Sam had injected himself with was working since the lines of pain around his eyes were easing. "Is it working?"
Sam nodded, "Yeah." He got to his feet but swayed, "Ooo, that sucked."
John immediately reached out and grabbed Sam's arm, marveling that it wasn't anything like the scrawny twig arms he was used to, clearly college had been good to Sam. "Here, you need to lay down?" He knew that much at least, the best way to help Sam with his migraines as a kid was to let him sleep it off.
Sam made a noise of affirmation, "Yeah, this damn stuff wipes me out." He let his father lead him over to the bed he and Dean were sharing and help him stretch out. John covered him with a blanket and stroked a hand over his precious son's dark hair, careful to not aggravate Sam's still aching head.
"Go to sleep, Sammy." He knew Sam still wasn't feeling well when he didn't correct him on the use of the nickname. He watched as Sam's heavy eyelids slid closed and his breathing evened out.
John smiled to himself, oddly proud that he'd been able to care for and comfort his youngest child without Dean's help, something he'd never been able to do when Sam was younger. After shutting down Sam's laptop and carefully putting the kit away, he sat back down on the other bed and continued his research.
Dean was nervous as he walked up to the motel room, he hadn't meant to be gone for so long but his opponents at the pool table had been a little wilier than he'd expected and there had been a very pretty waitress with a nice rack. But now he was back with dinner and very apprehensive as to what he'd find waiting for him in the motel room. Leaving his dad and baby brother together in the same room for any length of time was not a good idea given their history and though Dean wanted to believe that the four years they'd spent apart while Sam had been in college had made them less likely to fight, he also knew that you could never tell with his dad and brother.
So he was surprised to not find one of them pacing the parking lot waiting for him to get back or even hear shouting coming from the room. Now a little spooked, he opened the door and was stunned by what he saw; Sam was curled up under a blanket on the bed looking dead to the world and their dad was sitting on the other bed doing research. The whole scene was so surreal that Dean almost walked back outside to make sure he was in the right room.
"Dad?" John looked up and smiled faintly before putting a finger to his lips and gesturing for Dean to join him by the table.
"He, uh, had a migraine. Nasty one. Had to take his medication."
The thought of Sam putting his medication together on his own with a migraine scared Dean on a level he rarely felt. He knew that Sam knew what he was doing, that he'd been taking his meds that way for years, but when he'd seen Sam's hands shake so badly the first time he saw him try to get the kit ready, he'd stepped in to help and had been handling Sam's migraine medication ever since.
"Did he get together okay," Dean asked, the thought of his father doing it never crossing his mind.
A look of hurt crossed briefly across John's face before he answered, "No, uhm, he told me how and I did it."
Dean was stunned and a little mortified that the thought hadn't occurred to him. But then, he'd been taking care of Sam for so long that he wasn't used to much in the way of help from his father. "I'm sorry, Dad, I-"
John just put a hand on his oldest son's shoulder and sighed, "It's okay, Dean. I'm just glad he wasn't by himself when this hit."
Dean nodded before turning to the bags he'd brought in, "Sorry it took so long, but I stopped at the diner and got dinner. Steak for you, burger for me, and a chicken sandwich for Sammy." He frowned at the sandwich and then glanced at the sleeping figure on the bed, "How long has he been asleep?"
John checked his watch, "About two hours. Why?"
Dean set the box containing Sam's sandwich down on the table and headed for where the youngest Winchester was sleeping, "I'm gonna see if he feels like eating. Sometimes it helps." He quickly shucked off his jacket, strode over to the bed and knelt next to Sam, stroking his brother's hair out of his eyes, "Sammy? You awake?"
Sam moaned softly as his too heavy eyelids slid open and focused on Dean, "Dean? Whas' goin' on?"
Dean smiled, "You feel like eating anything? I got you a chicken sandwich."
Sam lifted his head and blearily looked around, "Uhm, I-I think I could eat."
Dean smiled tenderly, "Okay, just wait here, I'll get it for you." He walked over to the table and grabbed Sam's sandwich and a bottle of water before going back over to the bed Sam was now sitting on and handing him the items. "Here, don't eat too fast or you'll make yourself sick."
Sam rolled his eyes, "Thank you, MOM."
John smiled to himself as he watched his boys bicker, much like when they were younger. The smiled turned slightly bitter as he realized that he really didn't know anything about his sons outside of hunting. Well, he was going to change that; he'd never really believed in God or Fate but someone up there was giving him another chance to be a dad to his boys even if they were already grown and he was going to take it.