Sam smiled at his dad, and Dean helped him to stand up. John supported Sam on the side of his broken leg and Sam threw his arm around him to steady himself. Dean went to the other side of him and wrapped his arm around his waist, careful not to hurt his broken arm. They slowly began to make their way out of the woods.
"How much further?" Sam asked. The pain that shot through him at each step was beginning to unbearable. He hated sounding like a whiney five year old, but he had to know.
"I think we've come about halfway, so about another half mile," John replied.
Sam sighed. Normally a half mile was no big deal, but he honestly didn't know if he could make it. But he would try. He didn't want to disappoint his dad again.
"Want to stop and rest for a few minutes?" Dean asked, concerned.
"No," Sam answered. Having to stand up again would be a huge ordeal, better to just get it over with.
Just then, John stumbled over a branch that he hadn't seen. He fell down taking Sam with him. "Aaah," Sam couldn't help letting a scream out.
"Sammy, are you OK?" Dean asked bending down. He didn't get a response.
John pulled himself from under Sam and into a sitting position. "Sam? Answer us!" John ordered.
"Dad, take it easy," Dean admonished.
"I'm sorry, Sam, but I'm worried about you. Can you please just tell us if you're OK."
Sam nodded, but there were tears streaming down his cheeks.
"Maybe we can carry him the rest of the way," Dean suggested.
John looked towards the edge of the woods and back down at Sam. "Yeah, we'll have to be careful, though. You take his legs, and I'll take his upper half."
They leaned down and helped Sam to lay straight. Dean gently put his arms around Sam's legs and waited for his father to get in position. John sat Sam up and put his arms under Sam's and nodded to Dean. They lifted Sam up. Sam groaned.
"Sorry," Dean and John both said. They then carefully made their way to the truck. After carefully picking their way through the woods, they arrived at the truck fifteen minutes later. They carefully placed Sam in the middle and Dean crawled in the passenger seat next to him. Sam fell back on him and tried to get comfortable. John got in on the other side and started the truck.
"I know a doctor a couple of towns over who has a son who's a hunter. He'll take care of Sam without getting us any unwanted attention," John said.
"Good," Dean nodded. "How are you doing, Sammy?"
"OK," Sam lied.
"Sure you are," Dean said.
Propped up against Dean, Sam fell asleep, feeling like part of the family for the first time since he left for Stanford.