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Random Supernaturals	By : AnonymousTigress Category: Supernatural > General Views: 1630 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or the characters. I do not gain any benefits, money or otherwise, from writing about Supernatural and its characters.

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Hurt/Comfort.

He thought it would be a nice surprise. His father had finally called and Dean had told him where their hotel was. Of course, he hadn’t told his dad that Sam was with him. He only told him the room number and look for the impala. He thought it would be nice for Sammy and dad to have their reunion. Surely, some time away from each other had mended the argument of Sam going to college and not hunting.

Dean had never been more wrong in his life.

He had left to grab them dinner, not knowing John would arrive before he could get back. He spotted a familiar car sitting next to the impala and smiled. It would be nice to have the three Winchester’s back together again. Carrying a plastic bag full of dinner, Dean reached into back his pocket for the card key. He slid it in and pushed the door open when the door lit green.

Lifting his head with his naturally cocky smile, Dean opened his mouth in greeting, but they caught in his throat at what he found. Sam – his Sammy – curled up on the ground covering his head. His father stood over the small figure, hissing angry words at the youth.

“I told you never to come back! Filthy, disgusting--!”

John’s foot came up and down sharply, landing a hard blow to Sam’s unprotected ribs. Sam’s pained cry snapped Dean out of his shock. The bag dropped, door slammed and Dean was on his father in an instant. Having not heard his eldest even come in, John couldn’t defend against the sleeper hold and was down in a matter of seconds. After making sure the man was unconscious, Dean ran to his brother’s side.

“Sam? Sammy?” Dean called softly.

He felt a sharp pain in his heart when he tried to lay a hand on Sam’s shoulder and the younger hunter flinched away from him. He ignored it in favor of calling softly to his brother.

“Sammy, it’s okay. He’s down. I got him down, Sammy. He’s not going to hurt you. I’m here.”

It took a lot of coaxing to get Sam to uncurl and sit up against the wall. Dean continued to block Sam’s sight of their fallen father as he maneuvered him into the bathroom. When he switched on the light and Sam sat down on the closed toilet, Dean got a good luck at the damage.

Sam was a right mess. His face was all bruised up with a split lip and a black eye that was so swollen Dean would be surprised if he could see anything. He was holding a hand in his lap which gave Dean reason to believe there was an injury there too. Sam had his chin lowered to his chest and refused to lift his head. So Dean wet a washcloth, knelt down and started dabbing at his cut lip.

“I don’t know what’s going on and frankly I don’t give a damn. He’s got no right to hit you. You understand me, Sammy? No right.”

Sam nodded his head quietly. Dean cleaned up his brother’s face as best as he could. He held his hand in his, twisting and squeezing it carefully. It was jarred, but would be okay. It was the ribs that concerned him the most. There was already a mark beginning to emerge on the pale skin where his ribs were.

Dean pressed on them gently, noticing that Sam would suck in a sharp breath when he did.

“They’re not broken, but they’ll bruise pretty bad on you.”

Sam opened his mouth as if to say something, but clicked it shut in the next moment. Dean knew now wasn’t the time to pressure him into giving him an explanation. Without allowing Sam to even look in the direction of their father, Dean led him out of the bathroom and out of the hotel room. After he had settled Sam in the impala with his dinner, Dean went back inside.

A few minutes later, when John woke up, he found himself securely tied down to chair. His youngest son was nowhere to be found, but his eldest stood there with a dark look on his face. So he did what any sensible father would do.

“Christo.”

Dean chuckled. He shook his head as he pushed himself off the end of the bed.

“I was gonna try that on you first, but the way I figure is if you were possessed, you’d be asking why you’re tied up and not being able to say the word,” Dean said.

John’s hands tightened into fists. The ropes were tied tight. He had taught the boy how to securely tie someone down, but it seemed he had changed it up a bit. The elder Winchester was stuck.

“What is Sam doing here, Dean?” John asked with barely concealed rage.

Dean glared.

“What were you doing beating the holy crap out of him?” Dean demanded.

John’s gaze narrowed into a deep frown.

“Stay out of this, Dean. This is between me and your brother!” John snapped.

Dean shot up off the bed and got into his father’s face.

“No! I’m between you and Sam! Now I’m not going to ask you again,” Dean growled.

“There’s a reason your brother got into college and there’s a reason he wasn’t supposed to come back,” John warned him.

“I know that story, Dad. Sammy’s a smart kid and when he told you he didn’t wanna hunt, you told him to never come back,” Dean replied.

He was surprised when his father told him that was only the second part. That Dean had walked in having missed the beginning of the argument.

“I’m sure your brother hasn’t told you what he wrote in that college essay. The essay that convinced the college to accept him. Makes me sick.”

C-CRACK! John’s head bobbed back and dropped as he lost consciousness again. Dean shook his stinging fist out as he growled a whole slur of curses.

“Doesn’t matter what Sammy wrote. He got in. They wanted him. Which is more than I can say for you, Dad.”

Dean finished cleaning up the room, packed his and Sam’s stuff, and headed out the door. As he was throwing their things into the trunk, Dean made a quick phone call which involved several more swear words and a “I’ll fucking kill him” statement. After hanging up, Dean came around the side of the car to climb in the driver seat. He almost went into panic mode when he didn’t see Sam sitting in the passenger seat where he had left him. The panic quickly melted into relief when he shot to the driver side door and peered in to find Sam laying across the front seat.

Dean opened the driver’s door and Sam lifted his head away so he could sit down. After sitting, Dean surprised them both by pulling him back so he could rest his head in his big brother’s lap. The older hunter knew this wasn’t safe to do, risking an accident that could smack Sam right through the steering wheel. But at the moment, Dean didn’t give a damn.

Dean backed out of their parking space and shot out of the parking lot. Sam kept himself curled up with a blanket from the backseat. Dean had noticed the half-eaten dinner on the floorboard; he didn’t have it in the heart to point it out to Sam. Right now, his priority was putting as much distance between them and…John, as possible. Sam kept his eyes closed, but he only rested. With one hand on the steering wheel, Dean kept Sam anchored to the ground with a soft hand resting on his neck.

Dean drove through the night and through the next day and into the night. He stopped only for gas and for small meals. Sam ate very little, what little he did was only by coaxing from his older brother. Then they were back on the road. Only when it was night again did Dean pull off on a side road.

They started out with Sam sleeping in front and Dean in back, except Sam was too restless for that. So Dean moved him to the backseat with him. Rather than force his lanky brother to lie on the floorboard, Dean allowed him to lay up on the seats with him. Sam practically melted his body into Dean’s, wrapping his arms around himself and burying his face into his brother’s chest.

Dean wrapped his arms around the sad youth, silently offering the comfort his brother so desperately needed.

“Go to sleep, Sammy. We’ll be back on the road in a few hours. You need the sleep.”

Tucking his head under Dean’s chin, Sam closed his eyes and slowly fell asleep. Dean murmured nonsense to him well past the point of the younger hunter drifting off. It would be a while yet before Dean would allow himself to fall asleep.

/……/

“So whatdja do now, John?”

John should have known Dean would call Bobby. The gruff hunter had woken him with a flask of holy water dumped over his head. Bobby was sitting on the end of the bed in the same spot Dean had been hours before.

“Cut me loose, Bobby.”

Bobby scrunched up his face with a gruff scowl.

“Not happening, pal. Now tell me why the Hell I got a late call from Dean swearing up and down if I didn’t come, he was gonna kill you. What happened between you and Dean?” Bobby demanded.

John let out a loud huff of air.

“Did you know Sam was with Dean?” John asked, changing gears.

Bobby scoffed.

“Of course, I knew. Dean was at the end of his rope. You’d gone off and disappeared. He went and got Sam from school.”

“Do you know how he got in to the school?”

Bobby tilted his head with a narrowing of his eyebrows.

“Sam’s smarter than all of us combined. He did great in school and blew those other idjits out of the water with his test scores. They’d have to be a pack of morons not to accept the boy,” Bobby told him.

John shook his head.

“That was only some of the reasons. What really won that school over was his essay.”

Bobby listened as John explained hearing from a fellow hunter who had a relative on staff at Stanford. John got a hold of a copy of Sam’s college packet which had included a copy of his essay. It had been an alarming topic that had set John’s temper off, spurring him on when Sam received the acceptance letter and swore not to hunt.

“I knew!”

John’s head snapped out of the past. Bobby was on his feet and burning a hole into John’s head.

“You knew?!” John snarled.

“John, you’re an honest to God moron. Who do you think helped Sam with that stuff? That boy wrote and rewrote that damn essay about a hundred times before he thought it was perfect. He’s your boy. You shouldn’t give a rat’s ass what he is, what he believes in or anything else ‘bout him!”

“It’s not right, Bobby!”

“What’s not right is I ain’t blown a hole through that empty head of yers yet! Wake up, John! Your sons are gone. Dean chose Sam! Not you!”

/……/

Dean didn’t find out what had pissed off their father and what secrets his brother was holding until the next evening. He got them a room at a nice hotel and hid the car along the backside of the building where it couldn’t be seen. They had made it through a fairly quiet dinner at the local diner and Dean watching television while Sam got cleaned up.

However, the flood gates burst open when Dean smiled at his brother and said, “I’m here for you, Sammy.” Years of trying to hold it all together had finally taken its toll on the gentle giant. Sitting up against the headboard of his chosen bed, Dean held tight to his brother who lay partially on him sobbing his heart out. Through the tears and hiccups, Sam’s whole story came out.

He was gay. A classmate kissed him in middle school and he had been confused up until high school. He had gone through troubling times of dealing with his womanizer of a brother, his woman charming father, and tougher male relatives for hunting. His essay had been a winning point in his application to Stanford. Dad had found out and yelled at him about it. Then Dean had walked in on the argument of Sam leaving the family business for college and John telling him never to come back.

By the time Sam was done, his voice was hoarse and his cheeks wet with tears. Dean’s favorite shirt was ruined and the weight of his brother pressed heavily down on him. But he didn’t care about either of those things. He hated that Sam thought he couldn’t trust Dean; that their father had put that doubt in his youngest son’s head. Dean wrapped his arms tight around his baby brother and tried to squeeze all those years of pain out in one bear hug.

“I’m sorry, Sammy. I’m so sorry. It’s okay. I don’t hate you, little brother. It’s okay you’re gay. Leaves more women for me.” Chuckle from both brothers. “I’m proud of you, Sammy. For standing up to dad. Something I could only do…because you were the brave one.”

The kiss to his forehead was so light Sam almost thought he had imagined it. Except he knew better, especially after he felt a firm yet soft hand smooth this hair. Sam tried to roll off the bed and go to his own, but big brother refused to release him. With a small smile, Sam settled down and fell fast asleep with Dean watching over him.

/……/

Beep. Hi, this is John. I can’t be reached right now. Leave me a name and message and I’ll get back to you. Beep.

“I don’t need to leave a name or number ‘cause you know who this is. He told me. He fucking told me the truth and I told him that’s okay. Sammy is okay. I don’t give a damn about you or your fucking beliefs. But you ever come at Sam again like that and I’ll put a bullet through you myself. Good luck hunting your demon. We hope you find him.” Click.

John lowered his phone. It had stung a little that time he had yelled at Sam, but he had quickly gotten over it when that left him more time with his older son. Now the pain was resonating deep in his chest. Now he had neither son and he knew it would be a long time before either son may forgive him.
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