When Two Worlds Collide
Disclaimer: I do not own the Winchesters or anything recognizable in this story, nor am I making a profit.
Author's Note: Sam is sixteen and Dean is twenty in this story. Please let me know if you want me to continue with this one.
As John sat on the tree stump watching his boys train, he shook his head despondently as he watched Sam succumb to another of Dean's training moves. He couldn't believe Sam was taken down yet again by a leg sweep that he should have seen coming from a mile away with the hunting skills he possessed. "Damn it Sammy, you're becoming sloppy son. As soon as Dean's leg twitched, you should have known that leg sweep was coming. What in the hell is the matter with you boy?"
Hanging his head towards his chest at the chastisement, Sam took a deep breath to fight back the urge to scream. "M'sorry Dad. I'll do better next time." He panted out as he swiped a hand across his sweat soaked brow. He was completely exhausted and wanted to do nothing more than sleep, but knew better than to plead for a rest period. He didn't want to incur his dad's wrath.
"You damned well better because I'm not ending this session until you can counter at least three of Dean's moves." John informed his youngest as he crossed his arms in front of his broad chest. "Now get your ass in gear and do what you're supposed to or next time you'll be going toe to toe with me and I'll be more tough on you that Dean is. You understand me son?"
"Yes Sir, I understand." Sam groaned as he shakily pushed himself to his feet wondering why in the hell he couldn't have a normal father like everyone else. He should be in his room studying for the major test that he'd be having in his Advanced Biology class on Tuesday.
"Dad, maybe we should just stop for the night. It's getting dark and we haven't even had dinner yet." Dean stated knowing that Sam couldn't take much more. He couldn't understand why his dad wasn't able to see how obviously exhausted Sammy was. Sure, they'd only been training approximately thirty minutes, a third of their usual amount of training time, but Sammy was completely spent and looked like he would collapse at any minute.
"We'll stop when your brother gets his act together Dean. Sam has been slacking off for the past couple of weeks and it's time for him to suck it up and get with the program. Do you think some wendigo is going to give him a breather just because he's tired?" John retorted with a sigh at the way Dean always wanted to coddle his brother.
"No Sir, but…"
"No but's Dean and that's final. Sam is a Winchester and he's got to learn to fight like one. Now get to sparring" John ordered as he waited for his boys to take a fighting stance once again.
"Sorry kiddo." Dean mouthed to his brother as he placed his arms in a defensive position, ready to repel whatever move Sammy threw at him. He'd have to make sure he held back just enough that his dad wouldn't notice he was taking it easier on the kid. The last thing he wanted to do in the world was to hurt his baby brother.
Steadying himself on his feet with a sigh, Sam feigned a jab towards Dean's stomach with his left fist and then aimed an upper cut towards Dean's face with his right. Suddenly, he found himself falling forward as Dean avoided both blows easily and snaked a leg around his ankle, causing him to become unbalanced and fall. Hitting the ground with an "oomph" sound, he curled up into a fetal position and placed his hands to his now aching head which had collided hard with the ground.
"Shit Sammy, are you okay?" Dean questioned anxiously as he heard his brother hit the ground with a loud thud. Dropping to his knees, he placed a comforting hand on Sam's back as he began to rub circles on it as Sammy cradled his head, the guilt written clearly on his face.
"My head hurts." Sam mumbled, as he tried to breathe through the pain spiking in his head.
"Sammy?" John queried with concern as he finally made his way to his youngest child's side and bent down to check on him.
"I think he hit his head Dad." Dean voiced with concern as he deftly moved his fingers through Sam's hair looking for a lump. "He's complaining of a headache."
Fearing a possible concussion, John knew what he needed to do. "Sammy, I need you to take your hands away from your face so I can get a good look at your eyes son." John ordered as he pulled a penlight from his jacket pocket so that he could check his pupils for signs of a concussion.
Rolling over onto his back with a moan, Sam removed his hands from his head and groaned as his dad shined the impossibly bright light into his eyes.
"Shhh, I know it hurts Tiger, but I have to check your pupils." John uttered softly knowing that Sammy was hurting and hating the fact that it was him causing the pain. Finishing his assessment quickly, he looked up at Dean and smiled.
"No concussion this time, his pupils are equal and reactive." John pronounced, relief evident in his voice. "Let's get him inside." Placing his hands beneath his sixteen year old son's arms, he gently hoisted his youngest to his feet, and then waited for Dean to support Sam from the other side before walking slowly towards their humble abode. Entering the rundown establishment, they made their way through the living room and down the hallway to the small room that the boys were sharing since the house only had two bedrooms.
"Let's get him into bed." John told Dean softly as he felt Sam begin to sag in his arms. He wondered briefly if he had pushed his baby boy too far during the evening, but put the exhaustion down to the head injury. Taking Sam's weight fully onto his shoulders, he waited while Dean pulled back the blankets and then helped Sam to lay down once the deed was done.
"Dean, get me some extra strength Tylenol and a glass of water for your brother." John ordered as he bent down to untie Sam's shoes and pull them from his feet. Reaching up to unsnap Sam's jeans, he tugged them off so that his youngest could rest easily before covering him with a blanket. Ghosting his fingers through Sam's hair, he winced when Sam gasped softly as his fingers brushed over a tender spot.
"Sorry kiddo." He apologized, noting that the lump was relatively small. Still, he knew how bad head injuries could be and he would make sure to wake Sammy ever few hours just to make sure he was okay. Hearing Dean re-enter the room, he reached out for the pain medication and water. Popping the top off the bottle, he shook three of the white caplets into his hand and then gave them to Sammy before holding the glass to Sam's mouth.
"Drink" He ordered and waited for Sam to down half the glass before pulling it away. Placing the glass on the bedside table, he tucked the blanket in around Sam as his eyes drifted closed. "Get some rest kiddo." He whispered as he brushed the bangs away from Sam's lax face before pulling up a chair beside his bed to keep watch. Sitting there and observing Sam as he slept, John couldn't help but notice how pale Sam was. Maybe he was coming down with the flu or something. He would definitely need to keep a close eye on him over the next few days.
"Dad, why don't you go get something to eat, I'll watch over Sammy." Dean informed his father as he sat down on the edge of Sam's bed and palmed his forehead to check for fever. Sammy had always been his responsibility and he wasn't about to let that change now.
"Okay Ace, but you need to eat something too." John agreed, his stomach rumbling at the mention of food. "I'll fix a plate of sandwiches or something and Sam can eat later when he feels up to it."
"Yeah, that's fine." Dean stated, not really paying attention to the words his dad was saying, his attention solely focused on the kid in the bed. He felt guilty knowing Sam was lying there because of him and what he had done. He should have put his foot down during the sparring earlier and made his dad realize that Sammy wasn't feeling up to par. Now, because of him, his baby brother was lying there in the bed injured.
"Dean, he's going to be okay son" John voiced as he watched the guilt flicker across Dean's face.
"Yes Sir, I know that. It's just that he shouldn't be laying here hurting. If you hadn't…" Dean trailed off, realizing he was about to accuse John of pushing him too hard.
"If I hadn't what Dean, pushed him too hard?" John queried a little upset at his oldest son's line of thinking.
"Sorry Dad, I didn't mean that the way it sounded. It's just…I'm worried about Sammy." Dean apologized after seeing the hurt in his father's eyes.
"I know you are Ace, don't sweat it." John stated to help assuage Dean's guilt. "I know you didn't mean it. And I'll try to lighten up on him some over the next few days."
"Thanks, I think that'll probably be best for Sammy." Dean replied gracing his father with a grateful smile. He knew his dad loved Sammy, he just didn't know how to "read" him sometimes.
Nodding his head in agreement, John took one last glance at Sam before walking out of the room to make the sandwiches. He couldn't blame Dean for feeling the way he did since he had forced him to become Sammy's guardian and protector at a relatively young age.
Watching his dad as he left the room, Dean took a seat in the chair his dad had vacated and grasped his brother's hand. "I'm so sorry for hurting you kiddo. I never would have continued the sparring if I had known that this was going to happen. But I can promise you one thing, it'll never happen again. I'll make sure Dad holds to his promise to lighten up on you." Dean voiced as he carded the fingers of his other hand through Sam's hair very lightly so as not to hurt him. Relaxing back into the chair, he allowed Sam to sleep peacefully knowing he would have to wake him in an hour or so.
TBC Is Sammy suffering from a case of simple exhaustion, or could it be something much worse? Do you want to read more, or should I just trash this one?