A/N: Well, here is the first chapter of the new story I promised you! I've got five chapters written so far, so figured it was alright to post the first one as I miss hearing from you guys! Can't wait to hear your thoughts on this chapter!:-D Dean is 22 and Sam is 18 in this story.
A/N 2: For some reason, no one could access this story so I am reposting it - sorry if you get two alerts in your inbox and I hope to goodness that it works this time!
Disclaimer: Don't own them.
Summary: A stranger who had had a little too much to drink and an argument with his father was all it took for Sam to end up in the hospital, leaving his little family struggling to deal with the fallout. Hurt!Sam, Protective!Dean. Preseries.
Dean was in a good mood. A very good mood. Having just hustled several men out of three hundred or so dollars and been on the receiving end of a promise from a very fine piece of tail, he could not be more pleased with himself in fact. Making his way out of the noisy bar, he grinned to himself, feeling lighter than he had in days. So light in fact that he failed to see the rather large, rather drunk man before he walked into him.
"Watch where you're going, short stuff."
The man reeked of cheap beer but was not ill-dressed. Probably an alcoholic, Dean thought, even as he backed away, not wanting to ruin his evening by getting into a fight. Besides, he wanted to look pretty for later…Dean Winchester was never one to disappoint the ladies. Fortunately, the man seemed too drunk to do more than breathe alcohol-infused threats, and Dean watched with amusement as he weaved towards a black sedan. It was amazing that a man of such bulk could manoeuvre himself at all when drunk. Smirking to himself when the man stumbled heavily into the car door, he turned to make his own way to the Impala. The night was still young and he had a beautiful woman waiting for him…
~ O ~ O ~ O ~
Frank Harding was in a bad mood. A very bad mood. Susan had found out about his affair with Lucy and was filing for divorce, his boss was breathing down his neck about those papers that had been due two weeks ago and now some idiot had had the nerve to walk into him. Turning his large bulk with considerable effort, he came face to face with a disgustingly handsome young man in his early twenties and sneered.
"Watch where you're going, short stuff."
A look of anger and defiance crossed the young man's face briefly, before a more calculating expression took its place. Putting his hands up in the universally recognized gesture of placation, he backed away from Frank. Probably didn't want his pretty face to get ruined, Frank thought derisively. However, even through his drunken haze, Frank noticed that the man was well-built and had a dangerous air about him that would not be good to provoke further. Besides, the cheap alcohol that he had consumed in copious amounts was starting to make its presence felt and really all he wanted right now was to get home and into bed. A sadly cold and empty bed. Turning back towards the entrance, Frank made his way towards his car, concentrating hard on keeping himself relatively upright. Reaching the door, he stumbled into it with exhaustion from the effort and then righted himself somewhat as he fumbled for his keys. His fingers felt as though they had rubber gloves on them and it took him a while before he had enough purchase on his keys to unlock the driver's side. Getting behind the wheel, he closed the door and started up, blinking a few times as the dashboard swam in front of his eyes. All he could think about right now was getting home and into his bed. Beyond that, there was nothing.
~ O ~ O ~ O ~
"I'm really sorry, John. I just can't make it – Doc says to stay in bed for at least a week and even after that I probably won't be up to much. Maybe Sam can help?"
John Winchester heaved a sigh and ended the call, fighting the urge to throw his phone against the wall. This was a big hunt and he had counted on Caleb to help him and Dean out. Whilst Sam was a damn good hunter he hadn't wanted to include his youngest in this one. Werewolves were nasty, unpredictable things and he didn't want Sam to get in the way…or get hurt. But Caleb's recent injury left him with no choice. Sighing once again, he got up and made his way to the boys' bedroom where Sam was doing homework. This was not going to go down well.
~ O ~ O ~ O ~
Thus, after reading this passage, Jane Austen leaves us with a picture of an Elizabeth who is totally prejudiced against Darcy and will take any opportunity to tease him and form a worse opinion of him, whilst Darcy is filled with conflict on several fronts.
Sam put down his pen and rubbed a hand over his face. He was tired and sick to death of Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy's arguments and thinly-disguised flirting, but this essay was due tomorrow and was worth a third of his grade, so he could not afford to simply rush through it. Besides, good grades were his only ticket out of this life he never wanted and with finals approaching he needed to put his nose to the grindstone. Thank goodness Caleb was going on this next hunt so he didn't have to. He needed all the free time he could get.
The bedroom door banged open and Sam looked up to see his father entering with a stormy expression on his face. Instantly tensing in response, Sam sat up straighter, wondering what he had done to tick his father off now.
"Caleb's been injured so you're gonna have to come on this hunt with us, Sammy," John started without preamble.
Sam frowned. "But Dad, I've got finals coming up. You know that. I need the time to study. Isn't there anyone else who could help out? Bobby maybe or Pastor Jim?"
John's eyebrows creased further as he listened to Sam's complaints and he felt his already high blood pressure go up another notch. Didn't he get that this was important? People could die and he was worried about some stupid finals? It was not like his grades were that important anyway – you didn't need a degree to hunt.
"Bobby and I aren't on speaking terms Sam, and Pastor Jim has other things he needs to deal with right now. You are my son and I wouldn't ask it if I didn't need you."
"But Dad –"
"No buts Sam. You're coming on this hunt and that's final." John's voice brooked no argument but Sam wasn't having any of it. He stood up abruptly, pushing his chair out with unnecessary violence.
"NO. You promised and this is important. I need to get good grades. I won't be stuck in this hellhole of a life forever!" Sam could have bit his tongue off as that last part slipped out. He hadn't meant to reveal his hand so soon…
John's face went white and then red as the blood rushed back in.
"Sam, your mother died for you and you just want to throw that away? What about her, huh? What about her sacrifice?" Even as John said it, he knew it was a low blow, but damn it, he was sick to death of Sam arguing with him every chance he got. Why couldn't the boy just for once do what John said without complaint? Why did he have to fight every command and be so stubborn?
It was Sam's turn to go white. "Mom did not die so that I could have this life – do you think she would have wanted this for us? Moving from place to place, never having a real home, throwing our lives away on some stupid quest for vengeance? Huh? I don't care what you think, but I do not believe Mom would have chosen this for us and I am not going to stay in this life forever. I need to get out and first chance I get, that's exactly what I'm going to do."
John felt a rage beyond rational proportions flood his veins. These days every conversation between him and his youngest tended to escalate out of proportion and turn into a fight but listening to his youngest talk about Mary as if he knew her better than John did….no. Just no. He had done the best he could with the bad lot life had dealt him and he would not have that brought into question by some young whippersnapper. Even if said whippersnapper was his son. Even if he knew deep down that his son was right, which actually made it worse.
John knew that if he didn't act quickly he was going to do something he would regret later, and tempting as it might be right now, he did not want to physically hurt his son. So raising his hand, he did the only thing he could think of right now and pointed it, shaking slightly, towards the front door.
"Get out Sam."
Sam blanched even further if that was possible, sensing that he had overstepped some invisible line. "Wh-what?" His voice trembled with mixed emotions.
"I said. Get. Out. Now Sam! Before I do something I regret."
Not needing to be told twice, Sam scrambled for the door, almost tripping in his haste to be out of his father's angry presence. Fumbling with the door handle, he pulled the door open and stepped out into the warm night. Inside, John sank down on to one of the boys' beds, his sudden flash of anger already fading. Dropping his head into his hands, he wondered what he had done.
~ O ~ O ~ O ~
Sam trudged along the sidewalk, not really looking where he was going. His gut was a mix of emotions – anger at his father and at himself for letting out his secret, hurt for what his father had said to him and anxiety about what would happen when he went back and what Dean would say when he found out. Whilst Dean was more understanding than his Dad, Sam knew that Dean hated to be stuck between them, always having to play middle man, and Sam also knew that Dean would not take kindly to the news that he was planning on leaving them. For Dean, family was important above all things and therefore he would never understand Sam's desire to leave. To him, Sam's leaving would always be personal, and Sam didn't know if he could ever explain it to Dean in a way that he would get.
Sam's mind was so full of all these thoughts that he didn't notice the black sedan weaving all over the road at great speed until it hit him and his concerns disappeared in a blinding flash of light.
To be continued…
A/N: I would love to hear your thoughts so far!