#pre-series sam

[loversofthegrave]

pre-series baby sammy n dean. those little spuds grew up in each others pockets

[samanddean76]

Be Good (HozierNatural 2024)

Hozier Song: It Will Come Back

Author: SamandDean76

Beta: jdl71

Artist: i-already-know-im-going-2-hell

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12,210

Pairing/s: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Sam Winchester/Rory Gilmore

Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Dean Forester, Rory Gilmore, Bobby Singer, John Winchester, Barbara Forester, Lorelai Gilmore, Original Characters

Warnings: Rape/Non-Con

Additional Tags: Pre-Series Sam Winchester, Pre-Series Dean Winchester, Emotionally Hurt Sam Winchester, Protective Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester Is Not Okay, Minor Character Death, First Time

Summary: John leaves Sam and Dean at a motel to go on a hunt. After spending a week alone, the owner calls CPS and the boys are taken into custody. The last thing Dean tells 8-year-old Sam is to ‘be good’, and once separated Sam does his best to do just that. But once Sam realizes that he won’t be going back to either John or Dean ever again, his stubborn streak kicks in and he will only answer to the name Dean. Sam gets adopted by the Foresters, who move to Chicago and then Stars Hollow. Where he meets Rory Gilmore.

Dean is left to rot in the system, after being deemed too violent, and eventually ages out. He tries to find Sam but fails as Sam Winchester no longer exists. Dean seeks out Bobby, and ends up moving in with the hunter, working as a mechanic in between searching for Sam.

A lucky break results in Dean finding a small-town newspaper that features the MVP of the Stars Hollow High School hockey team, who bears a striking resemblance to Sam. Dean heads out to Connecticut and finds Sam, safe and sound, but thoroughly humiliated by his crush. Before they leave, they seek the revenge that soothes Sam’s soul. And leaves Dean wondering what the hell happened to the innocent little boy he used to know.

Link to Fic | Link to Art

I would like to give a great big thank you to @i-already-know-im-going-2-hell for creating such amazing art for the story! It was a real treat to be able to work with them! And thanks to jdl71 for being an awesome beta! I also want to thank the mods who ran the @hoziernaturalevents bang this year! They kept everything in order and made a warm and welcoming atmosphere for everyone to enjoy!

[babyboywinchester]

Added this to someone else’s post, but in case they want me to delete it from there I will share here instead

[velcroedshoe]

Pre series Sam Winchester I heart you

[completelymindfucked]

instead of a 4 year age gap, it’s 10. Deans 19, living life hooking up with girls, the works. Then Sammy’s 9 and he has nobody besides Dean, the kids still whip smart reading psychology books and such. So when Dean is too busy with Amanda from 3 trailers down in the middle of bumfuck nowhere Wyoming, Sam goes into the kitchen to get some food. Deans up in a instant at the sound of shattering glass of course, running into the kitchen to find his little brother all guilty looking and teary eyed.

Sams babbling and pleading “I’m sorry de I was hungry I didn’t want to bother you” there’s a shattered jar of pickles at his feet and Dean feels like the scum of the damn earth cause how dare he makeout with girls instead of feeding Sam? He kicks Amanda out “sorry babe, brother stuff rain check?” And gets to work on making grilled cheese with the last of their loaf of bread while Sams all smiles sitting on the counter soaking up his big brothers attention, Dean doesn’t have to know Sam smashed the jar on purpose.

[devotedthing]

✧ american teenager // ethel cain

[coca-colas-truck-driver]

john didnt know what to do when he saw dean dote on sammy the way mary had done to dean before she’d died. the way dean always held him, brushed tears off sam’s chubby cheeks, insisted on dressing him up even when john would offer to so dean could sleep some more. he’d hoped it was just a childish fascination, something dean would grow bored of; grow out of.

instead it got worse with age, especially when sam learned to talk and walk. his vocabulary almost only consisting of “dee”’s and basic phrases. making grabby hands in whatever direction dean is in every time dean would have to set him down for even a second. it was a damn near miracle john was able to separate them when it came time for school.

sam was never a crier, just a sniffler. he’d spend hours rubbing the snot off his little nose and chin, his face practically bright pink from the emotions he didnt know how to handle while his fists sat balled up in his lap. sam would just wait, far too patient for a two year old, not even bothering to touch his toys. john tried to fill in when he was there, to fill as much of the six year old’s shoes as he could manage. it didnt do much, sam’s mood only worsening as the week went on.

luckily four seemed to be a turning point, the small child no longer a toddler and able to understand the concept of dean not being able to spend every second of every single day with him. john thought it would’ve gotten better after that, that sam would separate himself from dean some.

john hoped that sam going to kindergarten and meeting other kids could possibly help, too, but by the time sam was five, all he wanted was to be dean. every time he saw the kids, it’d look as if they were trying to crawl into each other’s skin. john would get back from a hunt to see them watching cartoons on the couch, dean holding sammy close with his hands shoved under his baby brother’s shirt while sam’s face was nuzzled against the juncture of dean’s neck. it shocked him more than anything he’d ever seen on a hunt before, anything he’d seen in the army. neither asleep, just quietly breathing in what was practically each other’s air in a position that was too close to be just anything. john walked behind the couch, ruffling dean’s hair to ask if they’d eaten yet. dean had made the two of them something already, and john had left them alone again quickly after to go out to a bar. maybe call bobby.

[bitchface24-7]

Imagine this… Dean visits Sam at Stanford behind Johns back

(fuck you john 👊😒)

When Sam got kicked out with a busted lip, a pre-packed duffle bag, and tears in his eyes, he didn’t expect Dean to follow him. He didn’t expect Dean to offer to drive him to the nearest bus-stop to get to Stanford in one piece. He didn’t expect the overwhelming hug Dean gave him before he left (No chick-flick moments, Sammy! He remembers Dean saying all the time. Dean’s a bit of a hypocrite)

He doesn’t expect to see tears watering his big brothers vision before he leaves. He doesn’t expect Dean to still be at the bus-stop as the bus rolls away; leaning against baby and waving demurely. Sam didn’t expect most things that night. But above all else;

Sam didn’t expect to find a slip of paper sneakily shoved into his hoodie pocket, it’s a phone number he doesn’t recognize.

It’s for a burner phone Dad has no idea existed.

——————

Life at Stanford is everything Sam ever dreamed of! It’s relaxing, calming, interesting… boring.

Don’t get Sam wrong, he loves it here! He loves the atmosphere, how everyone here wants to be here. He loves the library, his classes (he doesn’t get some of his pre-requisites though. Why is he taking an art course as a pre-law student? Whatever…) and the friends he’s made here.

Brady his roommate is a bit of a slob, prefers parties over studying, and is a bit of a mischief maker. But he makes it up to Sam, he’s a surprisingly good cook. Jess became his best friend on the second day of classes. She’s the best. She’s funny, witty, outgoing, and really pretty. She’s got green eyes, freckles, and this beautiful smile (no she doesn’t look like anyone Sam knows. Shut up.)

There’s a few others but Sam isn’t as close with them. All in all, it’s been pretty good here. But, he’s still bored. He never thought he’d say this, but he misses the adrenaline of the hunts. He misses researching into unknown lore and going undercover (relatively unsuccessfully) with his brother. He misses the bickering, the inside-jokes, the snarkiness, and garbage eating habits. He misses Dean.

He’s been calling Dean quite a bit on the hidden burner number he gave him all those months ago. It’s a good substitute; but not enough. He misses Dean’s smile, his laugh, his presence, his smell. It’s especially gotten bad knowing Dad fucked off to do his own hunts, leaving Dean to fend for himself. Sam doesn’t like knowing that Dean is hunting solo, he’s not there to help if something happens.

So imagine Sam’s surprise when there’s a knock on his dorm room door. Not just any knock; it’s a secret one. One made up in the dead of night almost a decade ago now so Sam knows it’s safe. He knows who’s knocking.

It’s Dean.

Sam bolts up off his twin bed and rushes to the door. It’s a good thing Brady isn’t here; Sam’s not in the mood to explain himself. Sam whips the door open and feels the air escape his lungs in a swift blow. It’s Dean. He’s here. It’s Dean.

Dean. Dean. Dean. Dean. De—

Before his brother even has a chance to greet him, Sam throws himself into Deans arms, hunching himself so he’s smaller than usual, and shoving his face into Deans neck; rejuvenating himself on his brothers scent. It’s a mixture of leather, oil, old spice deodorant, and something distinctly Dean that has Sam sighing in content.

Dean just chuckles, which sends a shiver down Sam’s spine, “Miss me that much?” Sam can hear the smirk in Dean’s tone. Sam rolls his eyes, “Jerk.”

Instantaneously Dean replies with a small, “Bitch.” Sam drags Dean into the inside of his dorm room, thank god it’s relatively clean. Sam might’ve just offed himself if it was a pigsty when Dean came to surprise visit him.

“What’re you doing here?” Sam asks, awe and reverence clear in his tone. Dean must’ve not heard that since he grimaced a bit, anxiously fidgeting with the amulet Sam gave him all those Christmas’ ago, “What? I can’t see my baby brother?”

Sam rolls his eyes and shoots Dean bitch face number 46, “Y’know what I mean Dean. Is there a hunt of some kind or…” the implication sits heavily in the air. Did you come just to see me?

Deans jaw clenches before responding, “I just wanted to see you. Catch up a bit.” Sam can’t help but beam a broad grin towards his older brother, he can feel his dimples popping. Dean’s cheeks flushed the tiniest bit as he runs a hand through his hair.

“Well…” Sam starts, his voice cracking a bit in his flustered state. Dean quirks an eyebrow, a smug smirk growing on his pretty pink lips. Before he can tease Sam, Sam quickly continues his sentence, “I can show you around the campus. If you’d like…”

Deans smirk turns into a smile at the suggestion, “Wanna show me off to all your college buddies? Damn Sammy, didn’t know you were the possessive type.” Sam clenches his jaw and can almost physically feel his eyes darken at the suggestion, “Well… we are cut from the same cloth Dean.”

Dean just stares a bit at Sam before briefly licking his lips and looking away, “Alright! Take me on a tour Sasquatch.” Sam rolls his eyes and drags Dean out of his room. He’s gonna take him on the best goddamn tour this school has ever seen!

——————

Deans missed Sam. He’s missed all his snooty looks and snarky one liners. He’s missed his smile and his laugh. He’s missed his whiny tone whenever Dean embarrasses him (forever his little brother) so seeing Sam now is like whiplash of the severest degree.

Sam grew up. Sam got hot.

Dean knows he shouldn’t be thinking about his 18 year old brother that way. It’s wrong. It’s filthy. Sam probably knows about Deans fucked up thoughts and that’s why he left. But… Sam was ecstatic to see Dean. Running up and hugging him like he was 8 years old again.

Sam may act like a kid; but he sure as shit doesn’t look like one. He’s tall, taller than Dean now. He’s filled out. No longer tall like a pole and as thin as one too; no Sammy’s packed on quite a bit of muscle. His face has lost any baby-fat that was once on it. All high cheekbones, a sharp jawline, pretty nose, plump pink lips, and fox-like eyes. Dean feels like a creep checking out his brother but… fuck Sammy’s gorgeous.

He’s the best goddamn view in this whole campus.

Dean is barely paying attention to what Sam is saying, he feels a bit bad. It’s almost like he’s in Charlie Brown. He doesn’t hear any of the words Sam is saying, he’s just appreciating Sam and his prettiness.

It’s isn’t until Sam mentions the cafeteria does he get Deans full attention.

“Cafeteria?” Dean questions, a small sparkle in his eye. He drove about 3 hours to get here, he’s fucking starving. Sammy laughs boisterously, swinging an arm around to land on Deans shoulders as he tucks him close to his side. It’s shouldn’t get Dean hot under the collar. It does.

“Yup. All the goodies, like a smaller version of the food courts you see at the mall. There’s some food options, multiple coffee options, It’s pretty sweet. It’s all sponsored by the university. And since I got in on a full-ride scholarship; it’s essentially all free. For me at least.”

Dean feels like he’s drooling. Thank god for Sammy and his massive brain! Before Dean can even question where this glorious cafeteria is, Sam’s dragging him. Deans been allowing Sam to do that a lot recently, huh?

They eventually get to the cafeteria and get all their food. Dean obviously gets a burger loaded with all the good stuff, fries, and a massive fountain drink. Sam gets a salad, a coffee, and reluctantly adds a small thing of fries and grilled chicken to his order; Dean’s nagging of “real food” finally won.

Sam just gives the cashier at the kiosk his student ID badge, she scans it, and they’re free to sit in the cafeteria. Dean almost feels famous.

Dean was expecting to pig out with his brother. He wasn’t expecting to pig out with Sam’s friends.

——————

Sam almost chokes on a mouthful of salad when he sees Brady and Jess casually walking over to where Sam and Dean are sitting to eat with them. Before he can say anything, Jess breaks the silence for them.

“Hey, I’m Jess! This is Brady. Who’re you?” She sweetly asks Dean. Dean just raises he eyebrows and swallows a bite of his burger. “I’m Dean. I came to visit Sammy.”

“Sammy?” Brady questions, a small laugh in his tone, “Sam nearly ripped my face off when I called him that once.” Jess nudges Brady in the ribs and he bends over slightly in pain.

Dean purses his lips and smugly looks over to Sam who’s flushed as red as a strawberry. He’s picking at his salad now and mutters, “Only Dean can call me that.” Jess giggles and ushers Brady to sit down, they sit a bit away from the two pretty men to ensure there’s enough room on the table for all their stuff.

“So Dean,” Jess starts before taking a sip of her iced coffee, “How long have you known Sam?”

Dean just quirks an eyebrow at her. Did Sam not tell them about him? Fine. If he’s embarrassed by Dean, Dean’s gonna embarrass Sam right back! Dean looks over to Sam who looks like he wants to be anywhere else but here.

“His whole life. I’ve known him since he was a baby and I was four. I’ve been by his side for every milestone.”

Jess beams a grin at the two of them and lightly claps her hands together, “That’s so sweet! You got any baby pics of Sam?” Dean smirks at her mischievous grin as Sam groans and slides down his seat, hands covering his face. Brady just laughs and continues to eat.

“Sorry sweetheart, they’re in my other jacket.” Dean jokes as he eats a fry. Jess over-dramatically sighs, “Damn it. Maybe next time?” She jokes. Dean just smiles and nods his head once. Dean likes Jess.

Sam shoots both of them bitch face number 5 before continuing to eat. Every once in a while Jess and Brady shoot each other a look; as if silently communicating. Dean doesn’t really care that much, he’s with Sam. That’s all that matters.

——————

Jess has never, in the year her and Sam have been at Stanford, seen this look on Sam’s face before. He’s all doe-eyed and blushy towards the handsome man that introduced himself as Dean. She’s never seen such a star-struck expression on her friend before. It’s nauseatingly cute.

Sam’s got phenomenal taste.

Jess just continues to watch the two of them as she wonders to herself, “How long have these two been dating?”

Judging by the shared looks, inside jokes, dopey expressions, and an unmeasurable amount of love thrown by the two of them. Jess wouldn’t be surprised if they’re childhood sweethearts.

It’s only when Dean loudly laughs at a joke Sam said do the pieces click together.

“Hold on. You’re phone guy!” Jess exclaims excitedly. Dean just looks over to Jess, Brady stops eating, and Sam looks like he wants to kill himself.

“Phone guy?” Dean gruffly questions, looking over to Sam for some clarification but just gets met with a horrified face.

Jess continues on, ignoring Sam’s pleading look, “You’re the guy Sam spends hours talking on the phone with. You’ve got a personalized ringtone and everything so he never misses one of your calls. It’s kinda cute actually.”

Dean just smiles and says, “Is that so?” Sam really looks like he wants to throw himself off a cliff.

Before anymore teasing can occur, Sam picks up both his and Deans garbage, tossing it out as quickly as he can before dragging Dean away from his two friends with a burning face.

All he can hear is Jess’ and Brady’s laughter as he scampers away with his brother. “It was nice meeting you Dean!” Jess yells, a broad grin on her pretty face as she waves the two men goodbye. “You too Jess!” Dean yells back just as loudly.

Sam is going to kill himself.

——————

Brady looks at Jess and says one sentence, “They’re totally fucking.”

Without missing a beat, Jess replies “ Oh a million percent. I recommend you don’t go back to your dorm for the next few hours.”

Brady sighs and continues to eat, “Definitely.”

——————

Back at Sam’s dorm is a cacophony of laughter from Dean and pleading from Sam.

“Dean please shut up. It’s not that funny!” Sam whines. Dean just laughs even harder, “Phone guy? Are you kidding me?! This is the best day ever!”

Sam eventually gets fed up at the laughter and tackles his brother to his twin sized bed. Wrestling him to get him to shut up. Although Dean is shorter than Sam now, he’s still stronger; eventually pinning Sam down beneath him.

The two just pant heavily as the tension grows thicker and thicker as the seconds pass on. Eventually, Dean breaks the silence.

“Why haven’t you mentioned me to any of your friends?” Sam gulps at the dark look Dean throws his way. What does he even say in response to that?

Because they’ll know how much of a freak I am?

I love you too much for it to just be considered brotherly.

I’m scared.

Sam just gapes like a fish for a few seconds before demurely looking off to the side, his eyes filled with tears, “You’ll think I’m a freak.”

At that proclamation, Dean rears back a bit and immediately tries to get that solemn expression off his baby brothers face, “No I wouldn’t.” At Sam’s shake of his head, Dean firmly repeats his statement, “I wouldn’t.”

Sam bites his lip, debating if he should tell the truth. Dean always knows when Sam lies so… what’s the point? Time to ruin the best thing Sam’s ever had in his life.

“I love you.” Sam quietly stated. The room is so quiet you can hear a pin drop.

“I love you too?” Dean says. Of course he loves him. It’s Sammy.

Sam rolls his eyes at his brothers obliviousness and shoots him a look, “No Dean. I love you.”

Deans eyebrows furrow before his eyes widen and his mouth drops open a bit. He can’t mean. No. No way. No way does his Sammy love him the same way Dean does. Sammy is pure. He’s perfect. He isn’t fucked up like Dean is.

As Dean sits in Sam’s lap in astonishment, Sam feels his eyes water. This was a mistake, he shouldn’t have said anything. As Sam moves to push Dean off, he gets the surprise of a lifetime.

Dean kisses him.

Full on gives Sam one of the most passionate kisses he’s ever experienced.

When the two eventually pull away from one another, they connect foreheads and pant together. Sam looks desperately at Dean. Don’t get my hopes up. Not here. Not now.

Dean eventually fulfills every wish and dream Sam’s had since he was 14 years old. He says the damming words back.

“I love you too.” Before kissing Sam again.

Sam didn’t expect much of anything when his Dad kicked him out and he went to Stanford. He especially didn’t expect this.

But Sam couldn’t be happier.

[lilacpaperbird]

This is the Dean that lived THE 4th of July, 1996. Look at him. He lit some fireworks with his little brother in an empty field and it became one of the happiest moments of his life. I'm afraid I can't be normal about him.

[sams-princess-hair]

Everyone loves to talk about how Dean is so starved for affection when people fall over themselves to give it to him! No one talks about how Sam is STARVED for attention through the series but doesn't ever ask for it from anyone but Dean.

Sam hoards the memory of Dean teaching Sam how to ride a bike at Bobby's house. Savors the image of Dean's beaming pride and the haphazardly applied bandaids to his knees.

When he was little, Sam learned that he loved Dean's attention and loved every kissed scratch. Sam's little heart felt so full when Dean would hold his face when he cried, wiping away fat tears.

"Hey, it's not that bad, just a scratch, okay?"

[peachywincest93]

Dean Winchester*

[loversofthegrave]

unapologetic filthy boys down south 💘 90s teenchesters 4eva

[samanddean76]

The Most Terrible Truths

Ship: John Winchester/Sam Winchester, Sam Winchester/Dean Winchester

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12.7K

Tags: Pre-Series Sam Winchester, Pre-Series John Winchester, Pre-Series Dean Winchester, Mid-Episode: s14e13 Lebanon, F*** Or Die, Truth Spells, Hurt Sam Winchester, Protective John Winchester, Sam Winchester Needs a Hug, John Winchester Uses His Words, John Winchester and Sam Winchester Fight About Stanford, John Winchester Finds Out About Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester, Good Parent John Winchester, I Know - Shocked Me As Well, Must Tell The Truth Or Dean Dies, So Many Words Are Used, Sam And John Have An Actual Moment, Top John Winchester, Bottom Sam Winchester, First Time

Eighteen-year-old Sam Winchester is faced with a terrible dilemma. With just a few days left before he is supposed to leave for Stanford, Dean was hurt on a hunt and the cure is a truth spell that can only be activated while Sam and John are closer than either of them has ever wanted to be. If either of them lies, Dean will never wake and simply die. But if they are both brutally honest with each other, then Dean will recover and be none the wiser. The only problem is that the shameful truth that Sam is clinging to so tenuously is one that will probably send John into a blind rage.

Author's Note: This is a story that shows that an uncommunicative father and a rebellious son might have more in common with each other than they ever thought possible. And that acceptance can come in the strangest of places when you least expect it.

[samdeancrimespree]

there’s something about wincest in the pre-slash era (whenever that is) where i think the dynamic is: one of them does not have sex with men. doesn’t think of them that way, because it feels too dangerous, too easy to slip into those fantasies he keeps locked away. and the other one fucks guys, but only ones who are eerily similar, carbon copies to his brother. the type of resemblance that would turn most siblings off. and the roles could go either way, for either of them. just… the dynamics of the different types of desperate “unrequited” feelings and the way they try to get away from them.

like. dean getting drunk and making out with some tall, long haired guy at a bar. nasty desperate hands down the back of the guys jeans, stifling a sigh that his ass isn’t quite round enough to be sam’s. he has blue eyes, not brown, but dean isn’t looking at his face anyway. fucking not-sam rough in the back of the impala, moaning baby and cutting off before brother, saying sam’s name when he cums, trying not to stare at the army figure in the ashtray. hating himself for it, swearing off it, but always crawling back, chasing the high like an addict. feeling deep in his soul that sam was right to leave, that he’s better off without his sick freak of a brother.

sam being into girls with short hair, accidentally hitting on lesbians because he struggles to be attracted to anything not wearing a crew cut, flannel and work boots. he’s sick, he knows, that’s part of why he had to leave. frosh week drunk, he lets a guy flirt with him, because he’s just tall enough, just different enough, that sam can give himself plausible deniability. his lips are too thin, he’s too gentle, he smells like axe and fake leather, but sam needs something, and this is all he can get. it’s going fine, until the guy— too late now to ask his name— goes for sam’s belt and sam feels like he’s going to puke. the wrongness of it comes over him all at once, like a fever or a hex. clarity pierces his drunken state: not dean’s hands, not dean’s voice, not dean, wrong. at least it gives him an excuse to back out, a good reason to lock himself in the bathroom and sit on the floor, trying to determine if the dry heaving is cheap beer or grief.

girls are— safe. long hair, soft hands, sweet and gentle and nowhere close to 6’1. this way, there’s nothing reminding sam of the absence, nothing pushing against the barrier he’s made around what he really wants. he can be normal.

he knows it’s dean after the first strike, knows his footsteps and his breath and the outline of his shoulders, even now, even in the dark. but sam doesn’t stop fighting, because he’ll have to stop touching dean, and sam can allow himself this one thing, after so long. dean’s leather jacket on sam’s bare arms is making him dizzy, and sam lets dean take him down, the beginning and end of sam’s understanding of desire. a reminder, familiar like dean’s rough palms on his wrists, his weight pinning sam, his shit-eating grin and drawled easy, tiger; sam has never been normal.

[caranfindel]

Fic: Take a sad song and make it better

gen, pre-series | about 1300 words | characters: dean winchester, off-screen sam winchester

also on ao3:

"Mr. Thomas?"

It takes Dean a second to remember that he's Mr. Thomas. "Here!" he says. He stands, stiff and awkward from both the uncomfortable waiting room chair and the beating he took before he ended up in the uncomfortable waiting room chair. "I'm Dean Thomas. Is Sam okay?"

The doctor is young and tired-looking, and she eyes him warily. "You're not Sam's father..."

"I'm his brother. Is he okay?"

"Sam is going to be fine." She looks Dean up and down, and he doesn't know what she's looking for, but he knows he doesn't like it. "Why don't you come with me?"

He eagerly follows her, but she doesn't take him back to the patient area. Instead she leads him to a small office labeled Consultation Room, where Dean freezes. Because if anything screams we need a private place to tell you your brother's dead, it's a room off the ER called "Consultation Room," and if he walks in there, she's going to say it. He stands motionless in the doorway and tries to swallow, but his throat is as dry as the old bones he just burned.

"Sam," he croaks. "You said he was going to be fine."

Luckily, she gets it immediately. "Yes. He is. He's going to be just fine." She puts a reassuring hand on his shoulder and steers him into the room. "I just want to talk to you for a minute." Dean slumps into a more comfortable chair across from a small desk and waits for the awful adrenaline rush of Sam is dead to subside. The doctor - and he doesn't even know her name, which seems unfair, considering that she probably saved Sam's life - takes a seat behind the desk and places her hands on top, nervously drumming with her fingertips. "Are your parents here?"

"Oh, is that what this is about? It's okay. I'm twenty-one." It's a lie, of course, but he's got a pretty good fake ID that will back it up. "Our dad's out of town, but I've got a letter authorizing me to make decisions about Sam's care. I don't have it on me, but I can go get it."

"No, it's not that." She looks him up and down again, and he tries to assess his condition from memory. Jeans - torn and dirty, possibly stained with Sam's blood. Jacket - same. Hands - bruised, blood under the fingernails. Face - possibly scratched, probably not bruised or badly cut.

"So..." she begins tentatively. "Do you and Sam live with your parents?"

"With our dad. Like I said, he's out of town right now, but I've got a letter -"

"No, no, that's fine. That's not. The thing is." She sighs. "Okay. Sam was pretty badly injured, but my biggest concern was the possibility of a spinal injury, and I don't see any evidence of that on his x-rays. All of his injuries should heal with time and treatment. However, he's got several older injuries that I'm concerned about." She leans in and holds eye contact for an uncomfortably long time. Dean sees and raises her on the eye contact, because now he knows where this is going, and he knows his role. "Broken collar bone, both arms broken, multiple rib fractures. When I asked him about them -"

Dean interrupts. "You talked to him? He's conscious?"

"Yes. And when I asked him about his injuries, he said 'I'm clumsy' and then refused to speak further."

Damn. Sam must have really been knocked loopy if he couldn't think of a better story than that. At least he was smart enough not to take it any further.

"Can I see him?"

"Mr. Thomas. You have to understand that these injuries are suspicious. They're not the kind of injuries you get from being clumsy. And the fact that he refuses to discuss them is also potentially indicative of... " She stops and sighs again, clearly uncomfortable with what she has to do, which works in Dean's favor. "And you, yourself, look like you've been... Dean. Are you and you brother safe at home?"

Oh, concerned doctor lady. You have no idea.

"I got banged up finding Sam. When he fell through the floor of that old house, he took a lot of lumber with him. I had move it all to get to him." He has to shove down the memory of running downstairs, calling out to his brother and getting no response, pulling the rotten lumber off him piece by piece and finding him pale and broken underneath. If Sam's hurt that bad, this isn't going to be a sneak-out-at-shift-change situation, this is going to be a smile-and-convince-them-you're-not-being-abused situation, and he's got to concentrate to pull it off.

"Mmm hmm. What about Sam's previous injuries?"

Dean gives her a well-practiced sad little half smile. "It was a car wreck. Sam was in a really bad car wreck in Mexico a few years ago. He almost died."

She narrows her eyes. "And all of his injuries were from a car wreck a few years ago?"

Shit. Of course a recent injury would look different on an x-ray. Which arm did Sam break this year? "Yeah. Like I said, it was really bad. And his right arm wasn't set straight, so he had to get it re-broken and re-set a few months ago. Don't even get me started on Mexican doctors." He sends a silent apology to the doctors of Mexico, who are probably perfectly fine doctors and don't deserved to be badmouthed just because Dean needs an international incident to excuse why the medical records from Sam's horrible car wreck aren't available, and why one of his injuries is fresher than the others.

"So why do you think he didn't tell me about it?"

Might as well go all the way. "Our mom was driving. She didn't make it. Sammy's been pretty messed up since then. Won't even talk about it with me and Dad, let alone you guys."

"I'm sorry," she murmurs, and Dean knows she has taken the bait. Just gotta reel her in.

"He's been acting out a lot lately. Getting into trouble. Dad got this new job offer and thought a change of scenery might do him good, but. Well."

"Oh, is that why he was in the old Buell place?"

Dean affects a touch of confusion. "The Buell place? You mean the house I found him in?"

"Yes. The EMTs said they picked him up there. The local kids say it's haunted. It's a popular hangout for all kinds of troublemakers." She claps a hand over her mouth. "Oh, not that your brother, I mean -"

"No," Dean laughs, "it's okay. He's been kind of a troublemaker since we moved here. He was seeing a counselor back in our hometown, but he hasn't got hooked up with a new one here yet."

"Mmmm, I can help you out there." She rummages through the drawers of the desk until she finds a small box. "Here's some people who specialize in troubled teens" she says, handing Dean a couple of business cards. "I think either of them would be really good for Sam's issues."

Dean smiles brightly and stands up to tuck the cards into his pocket. "That's awesome. Thanks so much. Can I see him now?"

"Of course" As she leads him away, rattling off the list of Sam's new injuries (it's an extensive list that makes him realize she probably did save his life, and Dean feels a pang of guilt for lying to her), he makes a mental note to teach Sam the awesome story of the Mexican car wreck. Life is going to be so much easier when the little shit can pass for eighteen.

[completelymindfucked]