DISCLAIMER: Don't own, still not mine, never will be. (Sob quietly in the corner)
NOTE#1: I am sooooo sorry for the long delay. Pneumonia sucks. Still have the cough but feel better now. (I know it's no excuse) I'm very nervous about this story. I'm crossing everything that it won't be absolutely hated. Cause that would probably make me cry... LOL... Something is out to get me! "My Space" attacked my computer! Slid a malware virus called "Vista Total Security 2011" under my anti-virus and destroyed my computer! This was an updated version of this virus and the way they have posted to fix it is no longer valid, leaving us only the option to wipe our system and loose everything. My husband saved my stories and our pictures only, but thank god for that!
NOTE#2: I want to thank everyone so much for all the reviews on the last story. As well as for the continuing reviews on the other stories and of course for favs and alerts.
NOTE#3: This is my attempt to give Fuzz ball457 a story that will please and once again I hope this has been worth the wait!
John was talking to Bobby on the phone in the motel room where they were currently located unaware that Sammy was standing outside that same motel's door as he listened to his father's conversation. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop; he'd walked up and placed his hand on the door handle when he heard his dad's raised slightly slurred voice and paused to listen, "Yeah, but Bobby… Sammy is so fat right now he'd never make it on this case… You have to keep him." John did some u huh's and yeahs and then replied, "But we'll be trekking through rough terrain he can't do it with his weight. He barely made it last time and that trail wasn't even that rough." and once again there was a slight pause of silence after which John sighed in obvious relief, "Thanks, Bobby. See you in a few days." Sammy heard the phone in the room being hung up and his father started shuffling around the room.
Sammy rapidly backed away from the door as he turned quickly the tears in his eyes caused him to trip over his feet. He went down hard as his chin hit the edge of the impala's bumper it cut him. He ignored the stinging sensation and the blood as he scrambled to his feet blindly turning again as he raced around the end of the building. Since they had taken the end room it was easy to get to the woods behind the room and a place he could hide in his shame and his tears.
Dean was occupied with video games, aka busy flirting with girls at the motel restaurant's arcade and would be busy for awhile longer. He wouldn't miss him. Sammy thanked God for small favors as he ran into the woods.
If his dad was this ashamed of him, was Dean? Neither one of them had ever acted like it. But if dad talked about him like that when he thought he wasn't around to listen, did Dean? Oddly enough he was more disturbed by the thought of Dean being ashamed of him than his dad.
He wasn't sure how long he ran before he tripped over a tree root and fell; hitting his head on the ground or a root he wasn't sure and didn't really care. He lay there stunned a few minutes as he breathed heavy; not that he cared where he lay he just wanted to stop thinking for a few minutes.
But he couldn't because he was fat. Dad had told Bobby he was too fat to come with them; to be a part of their lives. Dad was ashamed of him and he was not wanted; not anymore. Dad didn't want a fat son so he was giving him to Bobby. But what if Bobby didn't want him around either? He bit his lip as he tried not to cry.
Sammy felt he would have to change to be allowed to stay with Dean. Maybe then dad would let him be with them. He would have to be like the son dad wanted; like Dean. No more Sammy. Dean was thin, coordinated and he was everything Sammy was not. Sammy laid his head on his arm and gave up the effort not to breakdown as he cried himself to sleep.
Sometime later Sammy was startled awake by Dean calling his name. He sat up and shivered. He didn't remember where he was. He was cold and one foot was wet. He pulled his foot up and felt it; he was surprised to find his shoe was gone.
Shit, he mumbled. What the hell?
It was dark. Why was it dark? He rubbed his forehead and hissed in pain at the instant throb that started at his touch. Why couldn't he remember? He heard Dean call out a little more desperately this time and a whole lot closer.
Suddenly he heard his dad yell his name. Oh… God… dad… he thought frantically as it all came crashing back like a tidal wave. Shit. I'm a burden. This is just one more nail of proof in the Sammy coffin of fat. Sammy curled into a tight ball. He just wanted to disappear. Right the hell now. Maybe, he sat straight up; if he ran like hell they wouldn't find him… he could disappear until he was as thin as Dean. Then he could come back. Be a Winchester again.
Dean came crashing through the brush as he carried Sammy's shoe, his flashlight beam careened over Sammy's curled up frame as he hid against a tree.
"Sammy?" Dean gasped as he lunged over to him. He dropped the shoe next to Sammy as he flashed the light over him to check for injuries. He quickly took in the bruised and cut forehead and cut chin. He checked for a concussion as he worried that Sammy still hadn't responded.
"Dad! Over here!" Dean yelled. Then turned his attention back to Sam as his hands flew deftly over Sammy while he physically checked for injuries he talked gently to Sam, "Sammy, buddy, what the hell? What happened? Talk to me?" Dean's panic level sky rocketed when Sammy still didn't respond to him.
John charged through the underbrush to his boys in time to see Dean put Sammy's shoe on him and then pull him to his feet. As John saw Sammy virtually unhurt his rage started to role in, "What the hell have you been up to boy? You know better to be out here after dark. I know I have definitely made the right decision taking you to Bobby's for the next job."
"Dad!" Dean snapped instantly pissed off as he glared at his father. "Sammy hasn't spoken since I found him; I don't know why he was out here. So shut the fuck up. He's hurt! He's probably in shock." Dean shook his head in wonder at his dad's lack of concern, "SHIT!" Dean snarled when he pushed past his dad he took Sammy with him as he talked softly to him. He chose not to care that his fifteen year old ass was about to be in a sling for daring to talk to his dad like that.
Oh, god Dean knew. Dean knew. Tears ran unnoticed down Sammy's cheeks as Dean led him back to the motel room. Dean placed him gently on the bed they shared closest to the bathroom as he knelt in front of him and gently moved Sammy's face side to side. Worry notched even higher as Dean spotted the tears. He was silently kicking himself for his choice to stay behind to chat it up with that redhead while he played it cool and waved Sammy off not really paying attention to the time when Sammy left. So he now had no idea how long his Sammy had been in the woods or why. Shit, he was an ass.
"Sammy." Dean murmured gently as John watched from the open doorway. A few minutes later he came in quietly as he closed the door behind him. He leaned against it he watched Dean take care of Sammy.
Dean pulled the first aid kit out from under the bed and opened it as he ripped open bandages and antiseptic cream to get them ready to take care of his little brother. He didn't think he would have to stitch anything. Thank god, Dean thought silently. Besides it had been too long to do stitches. "Sammy, I need you to tell me what's going on. Okay, buddy? Can you do that for me?" Dean was worried because at this point Sammy still wasn't responding to him at all to his voice or to the cleaning of his cuts.
What the fuck had happened? Sammy had gotten bored as he watched him play at the arcade again aka flirting and was going to go back to the room to read. Dean had teased him about that being the more boring one and Sammy had grinned and had taken off and now this. It didn't make sense…
Dean glanced at his dad… what the hell was dad spouting off about Bobby's' for? What was that about the next job and leaving Sammy? Sammy first, then Dad… Dean decided.
Dean went back to concentrating on Sammy, "If you don't start talking kid, like right now. I'm loading you up and taking you to the hospital." Dean got nose to nose with Sammy as he told him, "I mean it, dude, I'll do it." It was starting to freak Dean out how Sammy still hadn't blinked; didn't even look like the kid was breathing.
"Samuel Winchester, what the hell were you doing in the woods?" John snapped tired of Dean's babying Sammy and getting nowhere.
Sammy jerked and nearly tumbled off the bed as he looked at his dad he tried to focus on him; he grabbed at the bed covers as he tried not to fall. Dean grabbed him and sat him upright as he soothed Sammy as he muttered softly to him, "its okay, Sammy."
"Running… fell… I… I… woke up when… I heard Dean… I was confused… I didn't remember… I… I… uh…" Sammy's lower lip started to tremble as he began to stutter.
"Was something chasing you?" Dean asked as he went instantly in protect little brother mode.
"I was training. Dad says I need to be able to run longer." Sammy said as he looked down in shame, "But I fell. I'm not good like you." Sammy looked all puppy dog eyed at Dean and he turned to goo.
Dean's hand reached up to ruffle Sammy's hair as he grinned at him, "Nobody's as good as me, no even dad. Besides I call bullshit! Sammy you're eleven. When I was eleven I was a klutz too, you'll out grow it." Dean said as his hand moved down to rub Sammy's shoulder.
John beamed as he thought about how Sammy had been training. Maybe someday… John frowned as he growled, "Don't go off alone… you gotta let one of us know… you hear me?"
"Yes, sir." Sammy said as he stared at his feet not daring to look at his father.
"I'm going out for a few hours Dean." John told Dean. Translation. Going to the bar. Going to drink. Maybe hustle some pool. Maybe I'll be back tonight. Maybe not.
"Okay." Dean told John as he stood then followed John to the door. He then closed and locked it behind his dad. He turned and headed back across the room.
"Thanks, Dean." Sammy said quietly still watching his feet intently.
"For what, bub?" Dean asked, reaching for a bag of M&M off the top of the TV on his way past it. He turned to watch Sammy as he blushed while he struggled to find the words he wanted to say.
"For lying to try to make me feel better." Sammy said bluntly as he picked at an imaginary piece of fuzz off his shirt.
"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean asked with a mouth full of M&M's.
"You have always been the perfect son. You have never been a klutz. But it was nice of you to say so." Sammy got up and wandered towards the bathroom as he glanced back with such sad eyes he closed the door behind him that Dean had to fight the urge to run after Sammy; bang on the door and demand that he let him in.
Little note: Done the chin meets bumper thing when I was about that age, but my encounter was with a Ford Galaxie 500, I think... It was a retired police car my dad just had to have. My sister had me convinced it was haunted. (yep, older sis)