Fic: Fractured Bonds Chapter 3

[majestic_duxk]

Chapter 3

Sam was of course furious when John arrived home. He launched himself at his father, little fists flying as he demanded answers.

“You said you’d be here! You said he’d be fine! What did you do to him?”

John almost groaned. He played for time, taking longer than he needed to catch Sammy’s fists. But the truth was he hadn’t thought this part through. All his thoughts had been of Dean. Of saving his son. Apart from the eventual thought, to make sure his youngest was ok, he hadn’t considered Sam, hadn’t even thought of how to explain it to him. Better think fast Winchester, he thought wryly.

Before John could get his thoughts together, Sam unexpectedly burst into tears, leaning against his father. John’s arms came round his son automatically, pulling him close. “Why isn’t Dean here, daddy? Where is he? Where? Is he.. Did he… is Dean dead?”

Again… In the space of mere hours John’s heart was ready to break again. Before yesterday he would have told you he was hardened to all this. They were soldiers. He was a soldier, Dean was. So what the fuck was wrong with him? He couldn’t afford to get soft. To show compassion was to invite disaster, and he couldn’t do that to his boys.

“Sam,” John winced internally at the harsh voice. Behind him, he felt Jim step forward, ready to… Ready to what exactly? Explain to an eight year old boy that has brother was brutally raped and how they had to… remove… something… that almost killed him? Good luck, Jim, he thought bitterly. There is no good way to do this.

There was no good way, but at the fresh wave of tears, John softened his voice. “Dean’s not dead, Sammy. But he is very sick. We… We had to take him to hospital. He’s going to be there a while.”

John watched the emotions wash over Sam’s face. Relief that his beloved brother was alive, anger that John hadn’t protected him. It finally settled into the stubbornness so typical of his youngest.

“When can I see him?”

Exchanging looks with Jim, John didn’t know how to answer that. He went with repetition. “Dean’s going to be in hospital for weeks, Sammy. He’s in a special place at the moment…”

Sam’s brow darkened. “You said he would be here when I got home, dad. You said I would see him today. So when can I see him,” Sam demanded.

John knew he shouldn’t be getting mad at his son, but he really didn’t need this. “You can see him when the doctors say you can. Probably not for a few days, Sam. Dean isn’t awake right now, and they said he probably won’t be awake for a couple of days. “

Sam’s face paled. That was bad. Really bad. He knew Dean didn’t sleep enough – he was awake when Sam went to sleep and when Sam woke up too. But this was not normal.

John watched as his son went from angry alpha to needy little boy.

“Why Dad? Why does he need so much sleep?”

“He got sick, buddy.”

“When can I see him?”

That was the thing about Sam. He was stubborn – persistent John called it on a good day.
It wasn’t a good day.

“You’ll see him when the doctors say you can, Sam. And that probably won’t be before he gets home. Now go and-“

“I hate you!” Christ the child had a set of lungs on him! John winced at the piercing sound. “Dean needs me! You hurt Dean - you hurt him - and now you’re keeping him from me! I need to look after Dean!”

Sam watched as his little boys eyes flashed red. Fuck. Eight fucking years old and already… Oh no. Oh no…

The young alpha glared at his rather, repeating “Dean needs me.”

John really didn’t know how to respond. So for possibly the first time in his life, he tried placating his son. “Sam. I’ll take you to see Dean as soon as the doctors let me. Ok?”

Both Sam and Father Jim looked stunned at John’s sudden capitulation.

“Go pack. Get a bag of his favourite things together. That way it’ll be ready when Dean is.”

Throwing a suspicious look at his father, Sam retreated. He didn’t trust John, but he also wanted to look after Dean. No. Needed. He needed to look after Dean.

John sighed and turned towards Jim, whose face held just as much suspicion.

“John, what th-“

“His eyes flashed red, Jim. My little boy’s eyes turned red.”

Jim’s face didn’t change. Until his mouth dropped.

“You mean he…” he trailed off. What did that mean for the boys? “Sam and Dean… mates?”

John nodded grimly. It had just been one disaster after another, and in one afternoon everyone’s life had been ruined.

--oo--

Sam had done nothing but fight with his father. Although John had let Sam bring Dean’s bag to the hospital, he wouldn’t let him into the room to see Dean.

And Sam wanted to know why.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust dad… ok. Maybe a tiny part of him didn’t trust him. But something in Sam needed to see Dean, needed to know that Dean was ok. That he was alive!

And Dad wouldn’t let him!

Sam had one, and one only visit to the hospital. He’d lost his temper when John told him he couldn’t see Dean. To his shame he hadn’t been able to control himself, busting up the waiting room. John had him in the car before he knew it, and he’d been banned from the hospital. He knew that was dad and not the nurses that decided that. But there wasn’t a lot he could do about it.

Dad went every day. And every day Sam met him at the door, demanding to know how Dean was. Was he awake? Was he eating? Why couldn’t he come home? Sam would look after him! John wouldn’t have to do a thing! And he knew Pastor Jim didn’t mind if they stayed. And it would be good for him, for Dean, to not have to move around.

For the most part, John ignored his youngest. Although the fights turned loud when John informed his son they wouldn’t stay long after Dean left the hospital. It was during these fights Jim got between them, protecting his home as much as anything. A sharp glare sent John on his way, gently marshalling Sam up to his room, to work on something for Dean. Something to make Dean welcome (and yes, Sam, the Winchesters - all the Winchesters were welcome to stay as long as they wanted.)

In his heart, Jim knew it wouldn’t be a long stay, but in the meantime it gave Sam a sense of purpose.

--oo--

Sam was practically vibrating the day Dean was released from hospital. Dad still didn’t let him come, so he had to wait at home. Anxiously looking at the door. Anxiously looking at the clock. Anxiously checking their room to make sure it was perfect.

“What if something goes wrong? What if Dean can’t come home today?”

Sam knew he’d asked Pastor Jim the question more than once.

And it wasn’t an easy question, but Jim was glad of it. For the first week or so, Sam had drilled John every time he returned from the hospital. What happened to Dean? Why was he still in hospital?

John snarled and left his youngest, who then turned the questions onto the Pastor. Also asking why didn’t daddy take better care of Dean? Here they were, four weeks later (and at least four weeks before they wanted to release Dean, but Jim didn’t want to know how John’d gotten the hospital to discharge Dean), and Jim still didn’t know how to answer the questions.

Today, at least, Sam had new questions. Questions that Jim still didn’t know how to answer but were much more welcome.

Sam was still pestering him when the sound of car on gravel hit their ears. Before the pastor could take another breath, Sam was out of the room. Jim followed at a more sedate pace, fixing up the furniture Sam had knocked over in his haste to greet his brother.

By the time Jim got to the porch, Sam had wrenched open the car door, and was talking a mile a minute.

“… hard, Dean! But I did it because they wouldn’t let me! I just asked to see you, I promise! But then I had to stay here and Pastor Jim let me decorate our room, Dean. You’ll love it! It’s real comfy and I’ve been practising carrying things up stairs in case you need me to. I wish I hadn’t had to go to the beach. I’ve missed you.” Sam’s mouth turned down, and Jim shook his head. He couldn’t even follow the boy’s thought process. At least Sam perked up again. “Oh! And Pastor Jim said we can stay there as long as we like! But we don’t have to stay because Bo–“

--oo—

Sam’s eyes went comically wide, and he clapped his hands over his mouth. Bobby was a surprise, but a quick glance at Dean showed he was barely listening. Despite the looooong time in hospital, he was still pale and listless. And Dad wanted them to move again! Go back to hunting. Not that Sam had been asked. He heard Bobby and Dad and Pastor Jim fighting about it. About how dad should stop hunting, or if he was hell bent on getting himself killed, at least think of his boys!

Sam could have told them there was no point. Dean said Dad had a one track mind, which meant he could only think about one thing, but that one thing meant everyone was safe. It still wasn’t fair though. Because not everyone was safe. Dean wasn’t safe! And Dean was still sick.

Surely dad couldn’t look at Dean and think they could go anyway?

Biting his lip, Sam looked at his brother. All he wanted to do was bury his head in Dean’s scent and wrap his body around him. Sam wanted to protect Dean. Of course Dean was capable of looking after himself, but… but was he? Dean got sick. (Sam still didn’t understand how that happened, but he blamed dad, because although Sam stopped asking, he never forgot what he asked). And Dean was still sick.

--oo--

John was furious, at both Jim and Bobby. He knew he should leave the boys. He knew Dean wasn’t up for travel.

But… but how dare his… Fuck! Friends. John considered Bobby and Jim to be his friends, and to suggest that he leave the boys there? He wouldn’t – couldn’t! – do that. He’d lost Mary, and now his son had been defiled. How could they expect him to leave the boys and go? How could he protect them if he wasn’t fucking there?

Jim’s hands were urging John to calm, while Bobby just looked furious.

“We’re not telling you to leave the boys, you damn idjit!” And Bobby was yelling. “You can stay too! Or all of you come to Sioux Falls. You know there’s enough space. The boys could have a stable home…”

Snarling John turned his back. The more sensible part of his brain recognised they had a point. He knew life on the road wasn’t safe for young kids, even without that knowledge being brought painfully home. And despite (or perhaps because of) everything that happened with Dean, the need to bring Mary’s killer to justice still flowed through his veins, perhaps more strongly than ever.

He couldn’t stay and there was no way on earth he was leaving his boys behind. Neither Jim nor Bobby seemed to understand, and even if John had been willing, he was in no state to explain it. Filled with righteous rage at their judgement, he bundled the boys into the car. Ignoring Sam’s tearful complaints, the disappointment in the other hunters’ faces, as well as Dean’s muffled gasps of pain, John bundled the kids and all their meagre belongings into the car and left without a backward glance.

--oo--

At least the complaining had stopped. Several hours and many miles later Sam had finally fallen asleep. And John was under no illusion as to how his youngest felt. It wasn’t even that he disagreed. Now that he’d had time to cool down, he could see where his friends were coming from. And yes, stability would be good for the boys.

But.

Even now he’d had time to think about it, he’d do the same thing. Perhaps not quite so suddenly…

“Fuck!” John slammed his hands on the steering wheel. What was he supposed to do? His boy was recovering from… John didn’t even know what to call it. It was almost laughable, really. He was a man who never shied away from the dark side of life, and here he was, barely able to think the word rape.

Dean, his little soldier, had had his innocence cruelly taken. A tiny part of John remembered the form the monster had taken. The larger part of him wouldn’t think on it. Would never think on it. He didn’t know if he’d ever be able to discuss Dean’s… defilement… but that fact that the monster had taken his face?

Growling, John shook his head. He was never going to think about it again. Instead, he allowed his thoughts to turn back to the road, and his two sleeping passengers. Dean hadn’t even been home a day when John bundled him into the car, too angry to allow him even that little time of rest.

Although he’d rushed the boys, he wasn’t blind to the state his son was in. The hospital had barely patched Dean together before John had bundled the boys into the car, and away from the meddlesome fools.

He cultivated his anger: he was doing the right thing. He was keeping his boys as safe as he knew how.

But what was he supposed to do?

“Daddy?”

A soft hand touched his shoulder. John shifted and Dean’s pain streaked brow came into view.

“Dean you should be-“

But his son interrupted him. “It’s ok, dad. I know we couldn’t stay.”

Even shadowed with pain, Dean’s eyes were still the same. Still looked at John like he could do no wrong.

And despite his capacity for self-delusion, John didn’t deserve that.

Dean’s hand trembled against John’s shoulder, and he fought against his instinct to pull the car over and wrap his son in his arms. Cuddle him and tell him everything was going to be ok.

But he couldn’t. He didn’t know if it would.

“Sleep, Dean.” His voice was gruff. “You need to sleep.”

He watched in the rear view mirror as Dean settled back, blinking away tears. When he thought John wasn’t looking, he snuggled against Sammy, who shifted in his sleep, slipping an arm around Dean’s waist.

to part 4