Only for Sammy
Synopsis: It's Christmas eve, John's on a hunt. He should be with his family. What will it take to convince John of this?
Setting: This story is set pre-series in Wee!Chester format ;)
Disclaimer: Supernatural and all of their associated content belong to Eric Kripke and the CW, I own nothing of the sort.
A/N: With my current fic "Never Forget" I needed a break from it tonight since it's a bit heavy so I wrote this light-hearted family fic for the holidays. Oneshot AU. All mistakes are my own. Reviews = LOVE!
"I have always thought of Christmas time, when it has come round, as a good time; a kind, forgiving, charitable time; the only time I know of, in the long calendar of the year, when men and women seem by one consent to open their shut-up hearts freely, and to think of people below them as if they really were fellow passengers to the grave, and not another race of creatures bound on other journeys." ~Charles Dickens
"Dean." 5 year old Samuel Winchester pouted "Daddy is supposed to be here on Christmas."
Dean sighed, "Dad is on a job Sam you know that, sides' he promised us he'd be home in the morning didn't he?" Dean tried to convey to the 5 year old.
"Mhm…but…he should be here now." Sam said with a look on his face that almost made Dean laugh…almost.
"Sammy you know what dad does is important." Dean told him.
"It's Sam." the stubborn 5 year old pointed out. "And I know what he does is important, saving people and huntin' things. But he should still be here with us."
For a five year old Samuel who had just recently learned of his fathers true trade, he didn't quite get the point that Dean was trying to make. Dean knew what his dad did was important and though he didn't plan on telling Sam, he really did wish that his dad was home.
'Maybe…' he thought. 'Nah, that'd never work.'
He looked over to his little brother and saw that he was desperately fighting off the tears that were making it's way to his face.
Their father was 'disposing' of a chupacabra in upstate New York. It was extremely unusual to find one so far north but John wasn't concerned because it was only killing cattle and he needed some money so he'd said yes.
"Dean can you please get daddy to come home? You said this hunt wasn't dangerous. Is daddy going to get hurt?" Sam asked
Dean sighed again "No Sam, dad isn't going to get hurt. And it's not dangerous."
"Then why can't he come home?" Sam argued.
"Because…" Dean broke off as he realized his father really didn't have a reason for going out tonight other than the fact that Dean had told him it'd be okay to go.
"See you don't know why!" Sammy told him accusingly.
Dean chewed on his lip for a thoughtful second…"You really want dad home Sammy?" Dean asked.
"Mhm." The five year old looked at his brother with huge, watering eyes.
"Ahh Sammy." Dean began "You know the puppy dog look doesn't work with me."
Sam looked absolutely heart broken after Dean said that so Dean hurried up. "But…" He told Sammy.
"But what?" Sammy asked him, now intrigued.
"I guess we can try to get daddy home." Dean told him.
"How?" Sammy asked.
'Good question.' Dean thought.
"Let me think for a few minutes Sammy." he told him.
Dean sat on the bed…humph…he knew for his dad to leave the hunt that it'd have to be good.
His dad knew that neither of the boys was sick so that was out of the question. The hunt was only 20 minutes away…what could he do to get his dad to come back that wasn't too dangerous.
'Well' he Thought 'Maybe I could make me and Sammy sandwiches for dinner and get a cut…that's perfect!' he decided
Dean ran to the kitchen and pulled out all of the ingredients to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
He quickly set about making the sandwiches and had the knife poised in his hand as he went to cut the crust off and accidentally cut himself a little when…
"Whatcha doin' Dean?" asked Sammy as he bounded into the kitchen, accidentally knocking into Dean's arm.
"Ahh" Dean cried out as the knife sliced into his hand, leaving a deep gash that ran from the bottom of his middle finger to his wrist.
"Dean!" Sam cried out. "Dean what should I do?" he asked.
"Dad…" Dean said through clenched teeth. "Call dad."
"Okay Dean!" Sam said as he quickly ran into the main room and grabbed the phone and called his dad's satellite phone from memory.
"What?" His dads voice came over the line, it sounded harsh and scared Sammy.
"What?" he repeated, growing suspicious.
"Daddy?" Sam squeaked.
"Sam?" his fathers tone changed drastically. "What's wrong Sammy?"
"Dean….he…daddy he…" Sam started crying.
"What happened Sammy?" John asked, lowering his voice and evening his tone.
"He hurt his hand makin sandwiches daddy." Sam told him
"How bad is it Sammy?" John asked, already running to the Impala, having abandoned the hunt for the time being.
"Blood daddy." Sam whispered "Lots'a blood."
"Sammy I'll be right there, get Dean a washcloth to hold on it." John told him.
"k daddy, bye." Sam said as he hung up the phone.
John was sure he broke every speed limit as he realized that the usual 20 minute drive took him only 10.
He ran inside and found his youngest kneeling on the floor next to his eldest.
He saw blood everywhere and his eldest was unconscious.
"Dean?" John asked as he quickly knelt next to his son and checked his pulse and respirations. Both were weak and a little slow, hampered by blood loss.
John had left the Impala running so he carefully picked Dean up after tying a compress over the wound.
"Come on Sammy." John told him as he picked Dean up.
2 Hours and 45 minutes later, John picked up his sleeping son and carried him to the Impala.
It'd required 16 stitches to close and Dean had to receive a transfusion but was going to be okay.
He woke up on the ride back to the motel. "Dad?" he asked from where he was lying in the backseat.
"Ya kiddo?" John asked
"k." Dean confirmed.
"What's up kiddo?" John asked as he turned around and glanced at his eldest.
"You're home." Dean smiled/
"Ya buddy, and next time you want me to come home just say so okay?" John asked after having been told everything by his youngest.
"K Dad." Dean told him as he again fell asleep.
John smiled as he turned the radio on and glanced in the rearview mirror at his two sleeping sons. He smiled as a familiar song came on and he turned it up. "Carry on my wayward sons, there'll be peace when you are done…"
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