Fic: Battle Cry (Supernatural) Chp. 2/10
Here's chapter 2. Masterpost is over here. Chapter 1 can be found here.
Title: Battle Cry
Fandom: Supernatural
Character(s): Sam, Dean, John Bobby
Pairing(s): Gen
Prompt: Loss of Voice
Chapter Word Count: 3120
Rating: PG-13 for some cussing and a wee bit of violence
Disclaimer: Not mine. If you recognize it, I had no hand in making it. I do not own any piece of the Supernatural awesomeness. It all belongs to Kripke et. al. I’m just borrowing for a minute.
Warnings: None
Summary: It’s supposed to be a witch. It’s supposed to be easy. Sam and Dean shouldn’t have to do more than help burn the body. But, when they are faced with an unknown monster, the consequences will be life altering for all the Winchesters. Will they be able to fix the problem, or will Sam have to learn to adapt to the newest challenge in his life?
Chapter 2: The Discovery
In fact, after the drive and a shower plus the ten minutes to bandage up the punctures from the creature - they had gone deep, but were slender and had missed everything of importance- it was closer to five than four when Sam was finally able to sit down. He didn’t intend to fall asleep. He knew if he tried to nap he would crash and miss his bus. Instead, he settled himself at the tiny table to cram what he could into his skull for this math test while John and Dean collapsed into their beds. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d pulled an all-nighter before a big test. He tried to ignore the soft snores coming from Dean as he pulled the textbook in front of him.
It came as some surprise, therefore, when he jerked awake and found himself falling out of his chair, yellow sunlight in his eyes and something wet in his ear. It took a second for him to process Dean standing over him, shit eating grin in place mollified a bit by a look of concern, probably because he had just slammed his skull into the wall.
He sat up, rubbing his sore head. “What the fuck,” Sam demanded. Or tried. The only thing that came out was a hiss of air, sort of a hoarse, unintelligible whisper.
Dean’s grin slipped a little. “Cat got your tongue?”
Sam tried to clear his throat before he snapped at his brother. “Not funny, Dean.”
It was the same odd huffing of air, but no sound. He frowned. “Dean.”
“Sam?” Dean said leaning down over Sam’s upended chair. “That’s not funny.”
Sam looked up at him, panicked. “Dean,” he tried to say. “Dean!”
Dean kicked the chair out of the way and knelt in front of him. Grabbing Sam by the shoulders, he shook him gently. “Sam! Stop. Just stop.”
Sam was shaking.
“Dad!” Dean called over his shoulder. “Dad, something’s wrong with Sam.”
John stuck his head around the bathroom door. “What?” He took in the scene with a frown. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. Sammy can’t talk.”
John met Sam’s eye. “Sammy?”
“Dad.” The word came out as a hitched breath.
John’s frowned deepened. “Now’s not the time to be playing games.”
Sam was on the verge of tears. He shook his head violently.
“I don’t think he is, Dad. Look at him. He’s in a panic.”
John studied him. “When did this start?”
Sam opened his mouth to reply but realized that he couldn’t, nor did he really know the answer. Dean thought for a moment. Then he paled. “Last night. Remember?” He turned towards John. “After that thing attacked him, he kept trying to talk, but he kept coughing. I thought he just irritated his throat, but he hasn’t made a noise since.”
John nodded. “Okay. Dean, get your brother into the car,” he said. As if Sam weren’t fifteen years old and perfectly capable of walking. “We’re taking him to the hospital just in case. On the way, both of you try to write down everything you remember. I’ll call around and see if anyone knows what we’re dealing with.”
The hospital was actually the next town over. It was a forty minute drive, even the way John Winchester drove. Sam spent the first ten minutes doing as his father had asked and making a sort of entry of the attack. He’d written down as much as he could remember and was absently sketching it when John pulled into a space near the emergency room.
As they settled in to wait, apparently sudden muteness did not warrant immediate attention, John read over their reports. Sam was left to twiddle his thumbs in the seat. He could tell his dad was already working through the logistics of the case, but Sam was more worried about the here and now.
Dean came back from wherever he had disappeared to carrying two bottles of coke. He handed one over as he plopped down into the chair next to Sam. Sam took it and twisted the top off, but didn’t take a drink. He just stared down into the bottle.
Dean nudged his shoulder. “You know that tastes better than it looks.”
Sam glanced up at him, then took a swift sip before recapping it. He absently turned the loose plastic ring that the top had been sealed to. Around and around and around. There was a rough bit hanging from it that caught on the seam in the bottle as it turned.
“Dude, stop. That’s annoying.”
Sam let his hand drop into his lap. Dean sighed. “C’mon Sam. It’s going to be fine. We’ll figure this out.”
Sam looked at Dean. What if it wasn’t? What if this wasn’t the kind of thing that they could fix? What if he was stuck like this?
“Sam, you’re emoting again. I’ve told you before. If you do that enough, your face is going to stick like that.”
Sam rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at his brother.
“I’m serious. I can feel the angst rolling off you. We haven’t even seen the doc yet. Maybe it’s a bug or something. Maybe that thing had mono. Yeah, that’s probably it. You got mono from making out with a spider monster. Geeze, Sammy. That’s impressive, even for us.”
Sam punched Dean in the shoulder.
“Hey, I’m just saying. You shouldn’t go making out with just anyone. You don’t know where those lips have been.”
Sam flipped Dean off, with a grin. His good mood lasted for about ten seconds. Then a nurse came into the waiting area and called, “Winchester?”
Sam stood shakily, Dean right behind him. The nurse led them down a long hall and got Sam settled in a room. She eyed Dean. “This is a private area. I’m afraid you can’t be back here for the consultation.”
Dean smirked. “I’m his brother.”
“All the same. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
Sam shook his head and latched onto Dean’s sleeve. “Listen lady,” Dean said, smile slipping. “That’s my little brother. He’s freaked, he wants me here, as you can clearly see, and he’s my responsibility. I ain’t leaving. Anything you say to him, I’m just going to find out later anyway.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I will call security.”
“Go ahead,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “But maybe you should ask Sam what he wants.”
The nurse pursed her lips, but looked to Sam. He pulled Dean closer by the sleeve of his jacket. The nurse humphed, but didn’t say anything. She flounced from the room and Dean had to snort.
“Wow, someone’s on a power trip.”
Sam scrunched up his face and shrugged.
“Oh, come on Sammy. We’ve been to plenty of ER’s. No one’s ever said anything about me coming back with you before.”
Sam shrugged again. It wasn’t the first time Dean had had to get firm with a nurse before, either.
They waited for another ten minutes before a doctor finally came in.
“Mister Winchester,” he read off the chart. “What seems to be the issue today?”
Sam took a breath to answer, but realized the pointlessness of the action. Dean stepped in smoothly to cover. “Sam woke up this morning and couldn’t talk. He seemed fine last night.”
The doctor nodded seriously and turned back to Sam. “Any other symptoms? Have you felt dizzy or nauseous? Tired? Does your throat hurt?”
To each of these rapid fire questions, Sam answered with a quick shake of his head. No. He’d been fine up until the cave. He had a sneaking suspicion that whatever this was had to be supernatural, but he figured it couldn’t hurt to try the hospital. Sometimes even they got lucky.
“Any recent coughing fits or congestion?”
“Yeah,” Dean said. “We were hiking yesterday evening and he started having coughing fits.” Right after he’d made out with a giant bug and had all the air sucked out of his lungs. Somehow, Sam didn’t think that would enter into the doctor’s diagnosis criteria.
“I see. Any history of asthma, hay fever, or any specific allergens?”
“He had asthma for a while, but he’s mostly grown out of it. It didn’t seem like a normal asthma attack, though. This was sudden and didn’t look like he was fighting for air, more like he’d sucked something down the wrong pipe.”
Sam nodded quickly at Dean’s description. That’s what it felt like too, when he tried to talk the night before.
“I see.” The doctor made a note then got up. As he was rummaging through one of the drawers he told Sam, “I’m just going to take a quick look at your throat and see what’s what.”
He pulled out a tongue depressor from the drawer and opened the plastic covering it. As he approached, Sam obediently opened up so that the doctor could see. He seemed to take an interminable amount of time to study the inside of Sam’s throat before pulling back.
“Well, I don’t see any inflammation. It looks a little red, but not swollen. I’d expect to see a lot worse irritation if it had been an allergy or asthma attack.”
Sam realized that the doctor was simply talking to himself, running through the possibilities. He met Dean’s gaze, who rolled his eyes at the doctor. “Any idea what it is, doc?”
“I’m going to run a quick test just to cover all our bases. Let’s make sure you don’t have some variant of strep before we start jumping to conclusions.” So saying, he produced a swab and swirled it around in Sam’s mouth. When he was finished, he dropped it into a small tube and set it aside. “While we wait for that, perhaps you’d like to take me to your parents?” He said to Dean. “I’d like to speak with them.”
Dean eyed the doctor. “Our Dad is in the waiting room, but I can give you any information you need.”
“All the same, if you’d like to come point him out to me?”
“I’m not leaving Sam. I already told that nurse.”
“I’m not asking you to, I was trying to expedite the process for everyone.” Sam caught the meaningful look he gave Dean and had to repress an eye roll himself. Great. Here came the questions about their home life and whether Sam was well adjusted. Apparently his doctor thought he was crazy. It happened every now and then. Between him and Dean, they’d managed to amass a curious collection of injuries that could not be readily explained. It always ended up in the doctor asking discrete questions about recent trauma and coping mechanisms.
Apparently Dean wasn’t in the mood for the usual song and dance either. He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “Look, doc. I know what you are doing. Sam’s fine. He hasn’t had any recent trauma. He was perfectly normal till last night. The only thing we did out of the ordinary was a little hiking and a bonfire. No secret childhood trauma. And certainly nothing overly trying. He barely worked up a sweat. We got home late, he fell asleep studying for some test, and woke up like this,” Dean gestured towards Sam who was listening as patiently as he could. Although he scowled as he realized he’d missed his test anyway, despite all his efforts.
Dean must have seen his expression. “Dude, seriously? You go mysteriously mute and you want to pull the bitch face because you missed some stupid test? I always knew you were a geek, but that’s a little extreme.”
Sam flipped his brother off. It was a third of his total grade. He could be upset if he wanted.
Dean shrugged. “Whatever, bitch. Surely someone around here will give you a note. You’re teacher will let you make it up. It’s not like you skipped. Nerd.”
Sam looked hopefully at the doctor, who seemed put off by the exchange. “Right, erm. Yes. We can. Just check in with reception before you leave and someone will print you one off.” He seemed to gather a little of his composure. “In the meantime, I really do need to speak with your father.”
“Alright,” Dean said, hopping up onto the bed next to Sam. Sam elbowed Dean, knowing full well that his brother was being obtuse on purpose. What he didn’t count on was the sharp elbow into his side in return. Sam huffed, but otherwise didn’t retaliate. There would be time for retribution later, when their father wasn’t likely to walk in on them wrestling in public. There was still this morning’s antics to avenge as well.
The doctor cleared his throat, but otherwise took the hint and left to go find John.
“That went well,” Dean drawled as the door clicked closed.
Sam snorted a little, but didn’t try to argue the point.
“Why do they always assume one of us went off the deep end? It’s not like we come across as that unstable.”
Sam dipped his head and raised his brows, frowning a little in disbelief.
“I’m not having that argument with you again. This is our normal. Just because it’s not most people’s normal, doesn’t make it wrong.” Dean held up a finger. “And don’t give me that crap about Dad. We’ve got bigger fish here.”
Sam shrugged. Dean did have a point. It’s not exactly like this was an unusual occurrence. Okay, so waking up mute was not something that happened every week, but something screwy was bound to happen at least once a month. It wasn’t even all that surprising anymore.
They sat in silence while they waited. It was a long five minutes later when they heard John’s raised voice in the hall.
“What exactly are you implying here?”
“Uh oh,” Dean said, sliding from the edge of the bed. “Doc better watch himself. You ready to go?”
Sam nodded and pushed off from his seat. Dean was gathering his jacket while Sam pulled his own back on.
“Don’t you dare insinuate that I can’t take care of my children! I’ve been looking after those boys since their mother died.”
John and the doctor had moved close enough to be able to hear the doctor’s muffled reply. “Mr. Winchester, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything of the sort. It’s just that sometimes, in emotionally stressful situations, a person, a child in particular, can have any number of coping mechanisms. I’m simply trying to understand what might be going on with Sam.”
“Nothing is going on with Sam. He’s a healthy teenage boy.”
“I’m sorry Mr. Winchester, but something is. There is no medical reason why Sam can’t talk. He is perfectly healthy, physically speaking.”
“Now you’re saying my boy is crazy?”
The boys stood together at the foot of the bed, recognizing the turn in the argument. This happened every time. The doctors didn’t find anything and assumed it was psychological. Now John would collect them and they would go figure something else out. Hospitals were really just a formality at this point.
“No!” The doctor was nearly in a panic. “Nothing of the sort.”
Cue John in 5.
“That’s right. Because Sam is perfectly sane.”
4.
“I only meant that there must be more to the issue than the purely physical. Emotional health is important as well.”
3.
John’s voice was low and menacing. “Then what are you implying?”
2.
“Nothing, Mr. Winchester. Please, just give me a moment to explain…”
1.
“I don’t have to listen to this. I’m taking my boys to someone who knows what they’re talking about.”
John burst into the room. He saw Sam and Dean standing ready and winked at them. “Boys, let’s go,” he barked. “Dean, get your brother in the car.”
“Yes, sir,” Dean said, ducking his head so the doctor wouldn’t see the laughter in his eyes. Sam just nodded and fell into step next to Dean. They made it out to the Impala without issue.
Sam settled in the backseat when he remembered the note. He leaned back into the seat and closed his eyes. It would be too much trouble now to go back and John was ready to leave. He sighed. Dean, who had elected to sit next to him in the backseat frowned over at him.
“Sam?” Dean said.
Sam just shrugged. It wasn’t worth the argument. Next to him Dean sighed as well. John slammed the driver door and started the engine.
“Dad, wait.” Dean slid towards the door.
“What is it Dean?”
“I forgot something. It’ll take two seconds.”
“Hurry. We need to get out of here.”
Dean was out the door. Sam stared after him for a moment before John cleared his throat and Sam’s attention was back on him. His father had turned around in the seat to look at him.
John seemed nervous, even a little hesitant. “Sam, I know things haven’t exactly been easy between us lately, but I need to know. Was the doctor right about any of that? Do you feel like you can’t talk to us?”
Sam huffed and shook his head. He rolled his eyes for good measure. He even opened his mouth to tell John that was stupid, but caught himself and snapped it shut before he could. He frown at his knees. This whole not being able to talk thing was annoying. Instead he met his father’s eye and shook his head. He might not feel like John Winchester understood or listened to him, but Sam was inclined to shout louder until he made himself heard. Besides, even if he disagreed, Dean always listened to him. He might give him crap all the time, but Dean cared. No, Sam was sure this had to do with the monster the night before.
John nodded back at him. “Good. Right then. We’ll figure this out. Bobby’s looking into it now.”
Sam nodded and they fell into silence as Dean came jogging out the door of the hospital. He ran and yanked open the car door, sliding into the seat next to Sam. He shoved a folded piece of paper into Sam’s hands and settled into his own seat.
“We good?”
“Yeah, we’re good Dad.”
John threw the car in reverse and they were on their way. As they pulled out of the parking lot, Sam unfolded the piece of paper Dean had foisted at him and smiled. It was a doctor’s excuse for school. In true Winchester fashion, Sam punched Dean in the shoulder.
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Don’t lose it, geek.”
Sam folded the note and tucked it into his jacket pocket.
<<< Chapter 1 Masterpost Chapter 3>>>
Title: Battle Cry
Fandom: Supernatural
Character(s): Sam, Dean, John Bobby
Pairing(s): Gen
Prompt: Loss of Voice
Chapter Word Count: 3120
Rating: PG-13 for some cussing and a wee bit of violence
Disclaimer: Not mine. If you recognize it, I had no hand in making it. I do not own any piece of the Supernatural awesomeness. It all belongs to Kripke et. al. I’m just borrowing for a minute.
Warnings: None
Summary: It’s supposed to be a witch. It’s supposed to be easy. Sam and Dean shouldn’t have to do more than help burn the body. But, when they are faced with an unknown monster, the consequences will be life altering for all the Winchesters. Will they be able to fix the problem, or will Sam have to learn to adapt to the newest challenge in his life?
Chapter 2: The Discovery
In fact, after the drive and a shower plus the ten minutes to bandage up the punctures from the creature - they had gone deep, but were slender and had missed everything of importance- it was closer to five than four when Sam was finally able to sit down. He didn’t intend to fall asleep. He knew if he tried to nap he would crash and miss his bus. Instead, he settled himself at the tiny table to cram what he could into his skull for this math test while John and Dean collapsed into their beds. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d pulled an all-nighter before a big test. He tried to ignore the soft snores coming from Dean as he pulled the textbook in front of him.
It came as some surprise, therefore, when he jerked awake and found himself falling out of his chair, yellow sunlight in his eyes and something wet in his ear. It took a second for him to process Dean standing over him, shit eating grin in place mollified a bit by a look of concern, probably because he had just slammed his skull into the wall.
He sat up, rubbing his sore head. “What the fuck,” Sam demanded. Or tried. The only thing that came out was a hiss of air, sort of a hoarse, unintelligible whisper.
Dean’s grin slipped a little. “Cat got your tongue?”
Sam tried to clear his throat before he snapped at his brother. “Not funny, Dean.”
It was the same odd huffing of air, but no sound. He frowned. “Dean.”
“Sam?” Dean said leaning down over Sam’s upended chair. “That’s not funny.”
Sam looked up at him, panicked. “Dean,” he tried to say. “Dean!”
Dean kicked the chair out of the way and knelt in front of him. Grabbing Sam by the shoulders, he shook him gently. “Sam! Stop. Just stop.”
Sam was shaking.
“Dad!” Dean called over his shoulder. “Dad, something’s wrong with Sam.”
John stuck his head around the bathroom door. “What?” He took in the scene with a frown. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. Sammy can’t talk.”
John met Sam’s eye. “Sammy?”
“Dad.” The word came out as a hitched breath.
John’s frowned deepened. “Now’s not the time to be playing games.”
Sam was on the verge of tears. He shook his head violently.
“I don’t think he is, Dad. Look at him. He’s in a panic.”
John studied him. “When did this start?”
Sam opened his mouth to reply but realized that he couldn’t, nor did he really know the answer. Dean thought for a moment. Then he paled. “Last night. Remember?” He turned towards John. “After that thing attacked him, he kept trying to talk, but he kept coughing. I thought he just irritated his throat, but he hasn’t made a noise since.”
John nodded. “Okay. Dean, get your brother into the car,” he said. As if Sam weren’t fifteen years old and perfectly capable of walking. “We’re taking him to the hospital just in case. On the way, both of you try to write down everything you remember. I’ll call around and see if anyone knows what we’re dealing with.”
The hospital was actually the next town over. It was a forty minute drive, even the way John Winchester drove. Sam spent the first ten minutes doing as his father had asked and making a sort of entry of the attack. He’d written down as much as he could remember and was absently sketching it when John pulled into a space near the emergency room.
As they settled in to wait, apparently sudden muteness did not warrant immediate attention, John read over their reports. Sam was left to twiddle his thumbs in the seat. He could tell his dad was already working through the logistics of the case, but Sam was more worried about the here and now.
Dean came back from wherever he had disappeared to carrying two bottles of coke. He handed one over as he plopped down into the chair next to Sam. Sam took it and twisted the top off, but didn’t take a drink. He just stared down into the bottle.
Dean nudged his shoulder. “You know that tastes better than it looks.”
Sam glanced up at him, then took a swift sip before recapping it. He absently turned the loose plastic ring that the top had been sealed to. Around and around and around. There was a rough bit hanging from it that caught on the seam in the bottle as it turned.
“Dude, stop. That’s annoying.”
Sam let his hand drop into his lap. Dean sighed. “C’mon Sam. It’s going to be fine. We’ll figure this out.”
Sam looked at Dean. What if it wasn’t? What if this wasn’t the kind of thing that they could fix? What if he was stuck like this?
“Sam, you’re emoting again. I’ve told you before. If you do that enough, your face is going to stick like that.”
Sam rolled his eyes and stuck his tongue out at his brother.
“I’m serious. I can feel the angst rolling off you. We haven’t even seen the doc yet. Maybe it’s a bug or something. Maybe that thing had mono. Yeah, that’s probably it. You got mono from making out with a spider monster. Geeze, Sammy. That’s impressive, even for us.”
Sam punched Dean in the shoulder.
“Hey, I’m just saying. You shouldn’t go making out with just anyone. You don’t know where those lips have been.”
Sam flipped Dean off, with a grin. His good mood lasted for about ten seconds. Then a nurse came into the waiting area and called, “Winchester?”
Sam stood shakily, Dean right behind him. The nurse led them down a long hall and got Sam settled in a room. She eyed Dean. “This is a private area. I’m afraid you can’t be back here for the consultation.”
Dean smirked. “I’m his brother.”
“All the same. I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
Sam shook his head and latched onto Dean’s sleeve. “Listen lady,” Dean said, smile slipping. “That’s my little brother. He’s freaked, he wants me here, as you can clearly see, and he’s my responsibility. I ain’t leaving. Anything you say to him, I’m just going to find out later anyway.”
She narrowed her eyes. “I will call security.”
“Go ahead,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest. “But maybe you should ask Sam what he wants.”
The nurse pursed her lips, but looked to Sam. He pulled Dean closer by the sleeve of his jacket. The nurse humphed, but didn’t say anything. She flounced from the room and Dean had to snort.
“Wow, someone’s on a power trip.”
Sam scrunched up his face and shrugged.
“Oh, come on Sammy. We’ve been to plenty of ER’s. No one’s ever said anything about me coming back with you before.”
Sam shrugged again. It wasn’t the first time Dean had had to get firm with a nurse before, either.
They waited for another ten minutes before a doctor finally came in.
“Mister Winchester,” he read off the chart. “What seems to be the issue today?”
Sam took a breath to answer, but realized the pointlessness of the action. Dean stepped in smoothly to cover. “Sam woke up this morning and couldn’t talk. He seemed fine last night.”
The doctor nodded seriously and turned back to Sam. “Any other symptoms? Have you felt dizzy or nauseous? Tired? Does your throat hurt?”
To each of these rapid fire questions, Sam answered with a quick shake of his head. No. He’d been fine up until the cave. He had a sneaking suspicion that whatever this was had to be supernatural, but he figured it couldn’t hurt to try the hospital. Sometimes even they got lucky.
“Any recent coughing fits or congestion?”
“Yeah,” Dean said. “We were hiking yesterday evening and he started having coughing fits.” Right after he’d made out with a giant bug and had all the air sucked out of his lungs. Somehow, Sam didn’t think that would enter into the doctor’s diagnosis criteria.
“I see. Any history of asthma, hay fever, or any specific allergens?”
“He had asthma for a while, but he’s mostly grown out of it. It didn’t seem like a normal asthma attack, though. This was sudden and didn’t look like he was fighting for air, more like he’d sucked something down the wrong pipe.”
Sam nodded quickly at Dean’s description. That’s what it felt like too, when he tried to talk the night before.
“I see.” The doctor made a note then got up. As he was rummaging through one of the drawers he told Sam, “I’m just going to take a quick look at your throat and see what’s what.”
He pulled out a tongue depressor from the drawer and opened the plastic covering it. As he approached, Sam obediently opened up so that the doctor could see. He seemed to take an interminable amount of time to study the inside of Sam’s throat before pulling back.
“Well, I don’t see any inflammation. It looks a little red, but not swollen. I’d expect to see a lot worse irritation if it had been an allergy or asthma attack.”
Sam realized that the doctor was simply talking to himself, running through the possibilities. He met Dean’s gaze, who rolled his eyes at the doctor. “Any idea what it is, doc?”
“I’m going to run a quick test just to cover all our bases. Let’s make sure you don’t have some variant of strep before we start jumping to conclusions.” So saying, he produced a swab and swirled it around in Sam’s mouth. When he was finished, he dropped it into a small tube and set it aside. “While we wait for that, perhaps you’d like to take me to your parents?” He said to Dean. “I’d like to speak with them.”
Dean eyed the doctor. “Our Dad is in the waiting room, but I can give you any information you need.”
“All the same, if you’d like to come point him out to me?”
“I’m not leaving Sam. I already told that nurse.”
“I’m not asking you to, I was trying to expedite the process for everyone.” Sam caught the meaningful look he gave Dean and had to repress an eye roll himself. Great. Here came the questions about their home life and whether Sam was well adjusted. Apparently his doctor thought he was crazy. It happened every now and then. Between him and Dean, they’d managed to amass a curious collection of injuries that could not be readily explained. It always ended up in the doctor asking discrete questions about recent trauma and coping mechanisms.
Apparently Dean wasn’t in the mood for the usual song and dance either. He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. “Look, doc. I know what you are doing. Sam’s fine. He hasn’t had any recent trauma. He was perfectly normal till last night. The only thing we did out of the ordinary was a little hiking and a bonfire. No secret childhood trauma. And certainly nothing overly trying. He barely worked up a sweat. We got home late, he fell asleep studying for some test, and woke up like this,” Dean gestured towards Sam who was listening as patiently as he could. Although he scowled as he realized he’d missed his test anyway, despite all his efforts.
Dean must have seen his expression. “Dude, seriously? You go mysteriously mute and you want to pull the bitch face because you missed some stupid test? I always knew you were a geek, but that’s a little extreme.”
Sam flipped his brother off. It was a third of his total grade. He could be upset if he wanted.
Dean shrugged. “Whatever, bitch. Surely someone around here will give you a note. You’re teacher will let you make it up. It’s not like you skipped. Nerd.”
Sam looked hopefully at the doctor, who seemed put off by the exchange. “Right, erm. Yes. We can. Just check in with reception before you leave and someone will print you one off.” He seemed to gather a little of his composure. “In the meantime, I really do need to speak with your father.”
“Alright,” Dean said, hopping up onto the bed next to Sam. Sam elbowed Dean, knowing full well that his brother was being obtuse on purpose. What he didn’t count on was the sharp elbow into his side in return. Sam huffed, but otherwise didn’t retaliate. There would be time for retribution later, when their father wasn’t likely to walk in on them wrestling in public. There was still this morning’s antics to avenge as well.
The doctor cleared his throat, but otherwise took the hint and left to go find John.
“That went well,” Dean drawled as the door clicked closed.
Sam snorted a little, but didn’t try to argue the point.
“Why do they always assume one of us went off the deep end? It’s not like we come across as that unstable.”
Sam dipped his head and raised his brows, frowning a little in disbelief.
“I’m not having that argument with you again. This is our normal. Just because it’s not most people’s normal, doesn’t make it wrong.” Dean held up a finger. “And don’t give me that crap about Dad. We’ve got bigger fish here.”
Sam shrugged. Dean did have a point. It’s not exactly like this was an unusual occurrence. Okay, so waking up mute was not something that happened every week, but something screwy was bound to happen at least once a month. It wasn’t even all that surprising anymore.
They sat in silence while they waited. It was a long five minutes later when they heard John’s raised voice in the hall.
“What exactly are you implying here?”
“Uh oh,” Dean said, sliding from the edge of the bed. “Doc better watch himself. You ready to go?”
Sam nodded and pushed off from his seat. Dean was gathering his jacket while Sam pulled his own back on.
“Don’t you dare insinuate that I can’t take care of my children! I’ve been looking after those boys since their mother died.”
John and the doctor had moved close enough to be able to hear the doctor’s muffled reply. “Mr. Winchester, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything of the sort. It’s just that sometimes, in emotionally stressful situations, a person, a child in particular, can have any number of coping mechanisms. I’m simply trying to understand what might be going on with Sam.”
“Nothing is going on with Sam. He’s a healthy teenage boy.”
“I’m sorry Mr. Winchester, but something is. There is no medical reason why Sam can’t talk. He is perfectly healthy, physically speaking.”
“Now you’re saying my boy is crazy?”
The boys stood together at the foot of the bed, recognizing the turn in the argument. This happened every time. The doctors didn’t find anything and assumed it was psychological. Now John would collect them and they would go figure something else out. Hospitals were really just a formality at this point.
“No!” The doctor was nearly in a panic. “Nothing of the sort.”
Cue John in 5.
“That’s right. Because Sam is perfectly sane.”
4.
“I only meant that there must be more to the issue than the purely physical. Emotional health is important as well.”
3.
John’s voice was low and menacing. “Then what are you implying?”
2.
“Nothing, Mr. Winchester. Please, just give me a moment to explain…”
1.
“I don’t have to listen to this. I’m taking my boys to someone who knows what they’re talking about.”
John burst into the room. He saw Sam and Dean standing ready and winked at them. “Boys, let’s go,” he barked. “Dean, get your brother in the car.”
“Yes, sir,” Dean said, ducking his head so the doctor wouldn’t see the laughter in his eyes. Sam just nodded and fell into step next to Dean. They made it out to the Impala without issue.
Sam settled in the backseat when he remembered the note. He leaned back into the seat and closed his eyes. It would be too much trouble now to go back and John was ready to leave. He sighed. Dean, who had elected to sit next to him in the backseat frowned over at him.
“Sam?” Dean said.
Sam just shrugged. It wasn’t worth the argument. Next to him Dean sighed as well. John slammed the driver door and started the engine.
“Dad, wait.” Dean slid towards the door.
“What is it Dean?”
“I forgot something. It’ll take two seconds.”
“Hurry. We need to get out of here.”
Dean was out the door. Sam stared after him for a moment before John cleared his throat and Sam’s attention was back on him. His father had turned around in the seat to look at him.
John seemed nervous, even a little hesitant. “Sam, I know things haven’t exactly been easy between us lately, but I need to know. Was the doctor right about any of that? Do you feel like you can’t talk to us?”
Sam huffed and shook his head. He rolled his eyes for good measure. He even opened his mouth to tell John that was stupid, but caught himself and snapped it shut before he could. He frown at his knees. This whole not being able to talk thing was annoying. Instead he met his father’s eye and shook his head. He might not feel like John Winchester understood or listened to him, but Sam was inclined to shout louder until he made himself heard. Besides, even if he disagreed, Dean always listened to him. He might give him crap all the time, but Dean cared. No, Sam was sure this had to do with the monster the night before.
John nodded back at him. “Good. Right then. We’ll figure this out. Bobby’s looking into it now.”
Sam nodded and they fell into silence as Dean came jogging out the door of the hospital. He ran and yanked open the car door, sliding into the seat next to Sam. He shoved a folded piece of paper into Sam’s hands and settled into his own seat.
“We good?”
“Yeah, we’re good Dad.”
John threw the car in reverse and they were on their way. As they pulled out of the parking lot, Sam unfolded the piece of paper Dean had foisted at him and smiled. It was a doctor’s excuse for school. In true Winchester fashion, Sam punched Dean in the shoulder.
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Don’t lose it, geek.”
Sam folded the note and tucked it into his jacket pocket.
<<< Chapter 1 Masterpost Chapter 3>>>