Summary:  Wanting to prove himself amongst his peers, Sam realizes he might have have bitten off more than he can chew.
A/N:  This story is not beta’d, so any grammar errors are alas my own!   This is my first fanfic, so any reviews would be much appreciated!
For all you Dean fans out there, YES he is in the story. In fact, he's a very big part of the story!
Disclaimer:  Sam, Dean, and John belong to the almighty Kripke, but anyone else that has not previously appeared on Supernatural are the creation of my imagination.

John could have heard the screaming if he was deaf, unfortunately for him his hearing was quite acute, and the sound was deafening, even from a distance. Moving toward the frantic voices, the distinct sound of people crashing through the forest came next.

As the first teenage boy … about Sam’s age … came barreling out, John’s instincts were quick, as was his reaction. With lightening fast reflexes, he grabbed the boy before he could finish his mad dash for safety.

Unknowingly, it was Curtis, one of the boys who had held Sam while Robert had beaten him.

Wild eyes stared at John, at first uncomprehending, and Curtis tried to break free, but John’s hold was strong, and his hunter instincts were sharp. Time was imperative.

“Where is it?”

The kid looked back; fear nearly paralyzing him yet urging him to run. Following his fight or flight instincts, he tried jerking from John’s grip.

John tried to hold his temper, but his patience was wearing thin. However, he didn’t want the kid doing something unthinkable, like fainting, so he toned his temper, though his voice still demanded attention. Tightening his hold, he jerked the kid to him.

“I’m here to help. Tell me where it is.”

Curtis swallowed, the fear making him tremble in John’s grip. Looking behind John, he stared at the dense foliage, the tremble making itself known as his fear increased. Looking back to the man, not realizing he was none other than Sam’s father, he swallowed again. His voice, when it finally came, quavered, his mouth trembling with the effort to speak coherently. His words came slow at first, but once he started, they tumbled from his mouth so fast that it was nearly a whirl of noise.

“It … leapt out at us. We were just playing around, yanno? I mean, no one meant for anyone to get seriously hurt. But, that … thing, he jumped on Robert. I could hear his screams all the way through the forest. Then they just … stopped. Katie’s back there! She wouldn’t come, wouldn’t move. Maybe it’s because Sam was pinned under Robert and …”

John had a hard time keeping up with the ramblings of a terrified teenager, but the last didn’t slip passed the hunter. His grip tightened around the boy’s arm without even realizing it, the fear nearly taking total control of the man who seemed infallible to anything. Giving Curtis a little shake, John tried to snap him out of the terror that made his eyes shift back and forth, that could be felt in the quiver of his arm that John held tightly in his grip.

A panic slowly began to seep into John’s veins, filling his limbs and settling into the pit of his stomach. With every ounce of control, he held it at bay, though Curtis wasn’t the only one trembling, John’s grip was starting to shake, even if just slightly and drowned out by Curtis’ own shaking. His voice deepened an octave as he cut Curtis off before he could go any further.

“Sam?”

“Sam Winchester. We um … Robert hit him, and when the … thing jumped out, he fell under Robert.”

And then his world simply stopped. Everything around him seemed to fade to black as images flashed before John. Images of Sam as a baby in Mary’s arms. Of Dean holding his brother as if Sam’s life depended on it. His first step, his first word, and the first time he and John ever fought. Then it all changed, and John saw Sam lying mutilated on the cold earth … alone.

Without realizing it, his fingers loosened enough for the frightened Curtis to jerk and run … his need to escape far outweighing the thought that John might protect him.

John’s paralysis lasted but a moment before he lost all caution and ran. Gone were all traces of the hunter as the father took over.

“Sammy!”

“If he was bitten he’s gonna die, maybe it’s better if I just … SAM!!!!”

His heart froze for an instant before his feet jolted it into beating again as Dean took the few paces to his brother and dropped to his knees. The kid was a mess … bruises marred his face from the beating he had taken at the hands of the now dead Robert, but it wasn’t the bruises that concerned Dean.

“Was he bitten?”

His voice was raised, coming out gruffer than Dean would have normally used to someone who had stayed behind to help his brother, but Dean was running on pure adrenaline and fear … fear that Sammy was going to die. Or worse … he was going to turn and Dean was going to have to kill him.

“I … I don’t know, it all happened so fast that I …”

Dean stopped listening after her ‘I don’t know’. Tugging at Sam’s shirt, he jerked it up to see the bloody mess that was his brother’s side.

“Oh God, Sammy…”

His words were soft and meant for no one but himself. Dean wasn’t the type of man that was caring and sharing … except when it came to his brother. Sam was the only person that could invoke feelings so strong that Dean felt he was going to drown in them … right now he needed a life raft, only no one was around to offer him a lifeline.

After a moment of staring, his jacket came off in a rush, and then his shirt was tugged off and pressed to the wound.

“Sammy, can you hear me?”

Katie kept up her vigil of brushing at Sam’s brow, but she was nothing but scenery at that moment, something that mattered little in the big scheme of things.

“Come on Sam, don’t do this to me!”

Sopping up as much of the blood as he could, Dean pulled the shirt away to look at the wound. The relief that washed over Dean at seeing Sam was scratched and not bitten would have made him laugh in hysterically if not for the fact that Sam lay lifeless and pale except for the dark bruises that marked his face.

“Sam! Wake up Sam!”

His voice was rising; his emotions threatening to burst the dam that was Dean’s wall … the wall that he hid behind, showing instead sarcasm, snark, and cockiness.

“Do you hear me Sam? Don’t you do this to me!”

His voice quavered even as he held his fingers to Sam’s throat, checking the strength of his pulse. It was weak, but steady, but still Sam remained unmoving, so still, so quiet that it seemed he wasn’t his brother at all. No, his brother was always into something, always arguing and making himself known, always shadowing Dean, always annoying in the way that only a little brother could.

God he missed that!

“Sammy please … “

A groan elicited from the otherwise still teenager, and with the groan Sam was overwhelmed with the pain that wracked his body. It started at the injuries that Robert and his goons inflicted, but those were nothing compared to the acute pain that raced up his side and across his ribs. With a gasp for air, he tried to push up, his eyes flying open to glance around wildly.

“Easy there Sammy.”

“De….”

His throat was dry and pain caused his eyes to close once more.

“No Sammy, no going to sleep, stay with me.”

Sam didn’t open his eyes again, the soft brushing of his hair lulling him, however, the voice that Sam associated with safety and protection was drawing him. It was the voice of Sam’s hero … his big brother.

“De … wha … “

“Shhh Sammy, it’s okay, you’re going to be okay.”

His hand was grabbed and squeezed, Sam responded by squeezing weakly back. Dean was here, everything was going to be okay because no matter what upset the balance, Dean always set the world back on its axis again.

“Dean I …”

He never finished his sentence as a crash came, rattling the forest as something large came barreling from the trees.

The reaction from both Winchester brothers was instantaneous; Dean grabbed his gun and tried to position himself between Sam and whatever it was that was paying them a visit. And Sam, despite it hurting like a sonofabitch, rolled to his side, his gun poised at the trees, his finger on the trigger.

No matter what, he was Dean’s back up; after all, Dean had always been his, no matter how badly he was hurt. Sam could barely keep his eyes open, so he squinted at the trees, his head swimming from the blows Robert had given him.

Somewhere in the back of his fogged head, he heard Katie gasp, though, for some reason, she didn’t run. Sam was almost certain that, when all this was over, Katie wasn’t going to have a thing to do with him … and he didn’t blame her.

Dean, not even realizing his brother had his gun trained at the trees as well, waited in anticipation of killing the creature that had attacked Sam. His finger tightened its grip on the trigger, his eyes glued to the forest just as John Winchester barreled through.

Katie screamed as a shot rang out, though clipped the tree just above his head. Dean, last minute, when he realized that it wasn’t something with claws and teeth … it was his father.

Sam breathed a sigh of relief and fell to his side with a groan, his hands falling limply, though one still held onto the gun. John looked to Dean, his chest heaving for air to sate his lungs.

“Where is he?”

Later he might mention the fact that Dean almost shot him, but for now his only concern was his son … his baby boy. It didn’t matter that the ‘baby’ was now fifteen … Sam would always be a baby boy to him.

Dean looked at his father as he moved back to Sam, the answer not coming in words, but his actions spoke volumes. In a split second, John was beside Dean, his eyes trying to assess the injuries without touching Sam, who was obviously in pain.

“Was he bitten?”

It seems they both were on the same train of thought … the one that would end with a silver bullet to Sam’s heart. A shudder raced up John’s spine at the very idea. His need to feel his baby suddenly outweighing the thought that it might hurt Sam more.

Slowly, John’s shaking hand reached out to lightly brush Sam’s face. The fact that John was so tender, so caring, had Dean staring at him … part of him finding it amazing, and the other part, the part that was in full big brother mode wanted to stop him … stop him from further hurting his Sammy.

“No dad, he wasn’t bitten.”

Dean’s voice was low, as if the very sound might break this moment into a thousand pieces … and somehow Sam would pay the price.

The touch John placed on his son’s cheek had Sam opening his eyes, though that did little good for what he saw was a big blur. Trying to pull away, he let out a gasp and blinked twice before focus swam in and he saw his father looking at him with concerned eyes.

“Da – dad … ?”

“Yeah Sammy. Don’t worry, Dean and I are going to fix this, we’re getting you out of here.”

“You always do…”

His lips lifted just a touch, a mere shadow of his former smile, but it was enough for John to breathe once again. The image of Sam lying bleeding, alone, had nearly driven him mad with worry.

He shook that thought away, lifted his head … and for the first time noticed Katie. She was holding his son’s hand, the one not still holding the gun, her fingers stroking the back in a loving gesture, making John’s eyes narrow.

“Who’re you?”

It wasn’t anything the poor girl did; it was the fact that John was wary of anyone near his son at the moment. Katie’s eyes got wide as she stared at the formidable man that was Sam’s father and stammered.

“K-Katie … Katie Thompson. I went camping … with Sam.”

John and Dean simultaneously glanced to Sam, who, had he not been in so much pain might have been afraid of the consequences of his actions. Sam, however, had his eyes squinched shut to try and drown out the pain that tore through his side and across his chest. It made the bruises inflicted by Robert seem miniscule in comparison.

Clearing his throat to try and push the anger aside; Sam had purposely disobeyed him, and as a result gotten himself hurt. But, for the moment, his greatest concern was Sam himself.

“Sam, do you think you can walk?”

When his eyes opened both elder Winchester men saw the pain welling in hazel depths, pain that Sam was apparently trying desperately to hide from the two men who meant the most in his life. Opening his mouth to speak, he never got to answer as a growl came from the forest followed by a scream.

Katie gasped and gripped Sam’s hand tighter than necessary, but all three Winchesters jerked their heads in the direction of the sound. Dean and John both grabbed for their weapons while Sam tried pushing himself to his feet … there was a hunt, and despite his injuries, he was going to help finish it.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

It was Dean, in full big brother mode that stepped in to stop Sam in his attempts. Pushing him back to the ground, he shook his head.

“You’ve done enough for one night, Sammy. Take a breather, okay?”

“It’s Sam….”

Dean gave his cocky grin that only he could pull off with a flair that was all Dean Winchester.

“You’ll always be Sammy to me.”

John glanced to his two sons, something filtering into his gaze before it was gone in a split second.

“Dean, stay here.”

“What?”

“Someone needs to stay with Sam, just in case.”

Dean frowned at that, never had he missed a hunt since Sam was about eleven and could stay by himself overnight. Sam looked between his father and his brother, torn. Part of him was angry that his father didn’t think he could take care of himself. And another part of him no longer wanted to be left there alone. If Dean was around, nothing bad was going to happen to him … that’s just the way things were.

John, seeing Dean’s look, gave his own. That look that meant there would be no arguments … that John Winchester had spoken, and his word was law.

“That’s an order.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Without looking back, John, raised his gun. Hunter mode was back, but this time John was hunting for more than some creature that was supposed to exist in myth only. This time John was hunting for the thing that hurt his son.

John didn’t even think twice that Dean might disobey an order. His makeup was so different than Sam’s. While Sam fought him every step of the way, questioning everything as they went, Dean followed his father’s orders as if they came from God himself. John had no idea the depth of Dean’s worship of him.

Moving stealthily through the foliage, John scanned the area for tracks and any other signs that the werewolf might have crossed this way. The trail wasn’t too hard to follow … there were traces of blood here and there that John was certain was the werewolves. The very idea that Sam, despite being hurt, had shot the creature made John swell with pride … a pride he very seldom conveyed to his sons, but felt nonetheless.

Not a sound was made as the elder hunter made his way through the forest. John had been doing this too long, he had been a hunter for too many ghostly encounters to make a mistake now … even if he wanted to make the creature pay for hurting his son.

He shook his head and frowned as his mind drifted to his youngest. On the one hand he was worried about his boy, the one he and Dean had protected at all cost. But, on the other, he wanted to throttle him! Sam had turned from the sweet kid that used to hang on every word he said … to this defiant teenager that John didn’t know how to talk to anymore.

Thank God there was Dean! Dean, more often than not, played middle man between John and Sam, making a really bad situation from growing worse. More often than not, Dean softened the blow of words his father and brother threw at each other. But John wondered what had happened to he and Sam … what made things change so drastically that the only times they really talked was with raised voices and tempers flaring?

All thought died as John spotted something ahead … something crumbled on the ground lying in a heap that he could only conclude was the werewolve’s latest victim. He wasn’t fool enough to just run right in. No, John Winchester was too good for that. So he waited. Werewolves were known to set traps from time to time … at least the ones that were calculated killers.

All senses were alert, all muscles tense as if preparing for the worst. There was no sound, no smell, not even a breeze. John, despite caution, moved toward the lump on the ground.

It wasn’t the first time he’d seen a dead body. Not even the first time he’d seen one so badly mutilated. But the kid was young … and in some odd way, it reminded him of Sam. Almost was Sammy.

Shaking away his thoughts, he turned slowly, looking for the trail of the monster that had killed these kids, which had nearly taken his sons life.

John narrowed his eyes as he spotted another splotch of blood on a nearby tree, making him take that direction. The blood splatters were fewer, but the trail was no more difficult to follow … at least not for the trained hunter.

Slipping through the forest as if he were one of the woodland creatures, John would pause to inspect the blood, then move on, following the trail the werewolf had made. It was easy … almost too easy.

The trail curled around, zigzagging as if it had no particular course, as if it were lost in its own domain, or hunting something that ran with no pattern whatsoever. But, John heard no screams, and thus concluded there was no prey for the creature.

That is, until he came back to his own trail. The trail he had taken that led him here. The trail the creature was now following back where he had left Dean and Sam.

“Shit….”

Katie kept brushing at Sam’s brow, as if touching him would miraculously make him better again. Her hand stroked along his forehead, tickling at his hair. It was nearly enough to lull Sam back to sleep. It would have if Dean were not there, worrying over him like a mother hen.

“I’m okay, Dean…”

Yes, it was an out and out lie, and by the pain in his voice, it was obvious. But, Sam tried … and Dean didn’t buy it for a minute.

“Yeah, and I’m a virgin!”

Katie put a hand over her mouth and giggled. Dean, falling into cocky mode, looked at her and winked, to which Sam rolled his eyes and smirked.

“Yeah, sure Dean. I’m wounded and dying and you hit on my girlfriend.”

Dean just grinned at his brother before getting that serious look again as he inspected Sam’s wounds again. He had tied off the worst part with his shirt, stuffing one of Sam’s clean ones beneath it to staunch the blood. Pulling it back, he eyed the wound a moment before nodding. Most of the blood had ceased its leaking from the deep scratches, which satisfied Dean, though he was worried about infection.

Patting Sam’s arm, he turned and grabbed his duffle.

“So … got anything to eat in here?”

“Dude, do you ever think about anything but your stomach?”

Dean gave his cockiest grin, eyed Katie, and smirked.

“Yeah, I do.”

Dean might have been an arrogant letch (at least on the outside) but the truth of the matter was he would never, in a million years, hit on Sam’s girlfriend. He could play off being cocky, he even posed himself as an unfeeling ass on an occasion or two … but deep down, Dean Winchester had more of a heart than most. He just hid it very well.

Sam once again rolled his eyes, giving Dean his very inventive Bitch!Face. Sam knew damn well that Dean wouldn’t do anything to hurt him, and that included hitting on Katie.

She, during all of this, kept quiet, though she followed the conversation like a ping pong ball, her eyes bouncing from one brother to the next. It made her wish she had a sibling. Being an only child suddenly became lonely, and Katie wished for the obvious love the two brothers shared.

Sam, deciding to give Dean a taste of his own medicine, opened his mouth to relay a comment that would have made his brother proud. What came out was a growl that had the werewolf leaping from the trees at the three.

Sam watched as if a movie were playing in slow motion. Dean turned, surprise on his face for a split second as he raised his weapon to fire, but the werewolf had the element of surprise and struck. The bullet meant for the heart went wide and nicked its shoulder as a claw-like hand slammed Dean into a tree, the gouges it left staining his shirt red.

Somewhere in the distance Sam heard a scream. Later he would realize it was Katie. Much later when he had time to think, to do anything but react.

Gun in hand; he raised the weapon as the creature moved to his brother.

“Hey!”

Turning, the creature snarled and leapt, its claws outstretched as it prepared to kill the boy that had hurt it.

Three shots rang out simultaneously and the werewolf fell. Its body fell just short of Sam, its claws still outstretched as if reaching for him, even in death. Looking up, Sam saw his father standing there, smoking gun in hand, and then turned to see Dean holding his gun still aimed at the dead creature.

John looked at Sam a moment, pride in his eyes before he moved quickly to Dean. Pulling at his shirt to assess the damage, he nearly laughed at Dean’s reply.

“Come on dad, you know I don’t swing that way.”

Sam did laugh, and then winced as it hurt his side.

“Oh God, remind me not to do that again.”

John helped Dean to his feet, and then they both moved to help Sam.

“Come on; let’s get you out of here.”

Between John and Dean, Sam was pulled to his feet with a groan. Katie grabbed the bags they had brought and followed along silently, though her eyes showed longing. Not just for the brotherly banter … but for Sam Winchester himself. There was just something about him that brought butterflies to her stomach. So, there was a trace of a smile as she followed along after the family Winchester.

The trip to the car was slow going as Sam grunted in pain and staggered along with his father and brother’s help, though later he would hardly remember the walk to the car, or the ride at all. He vaguely remembered dropping Katie off at her house, then passed out again.

What he awoke to was pain as John carefully stitched the claw marks that were the deepest. Sam tried to bolt up and away from the shock of the pain, but Dean held him firm, and then started talking to distract him. Dean’s snarky banter caused a slight grin from Sam in between the winces of pain caused by the needle piercing his skin.

But, when all was said and done, he began to drift back to a much needed sleep. That is, until the deep baritone of John Winchester broke the pain-induced euphoria.

“I hope you know Sam, when all of this is over … you are so grounded.”

Opening his eyes, Sam glanced from John to Dean, then back and sighed before nodding.

“You know Dad, next time we hunt without him; I think we should chain him to a chair.”

“Yeah, but then how would he eat?”

“We can leave a box of Fruitloops near him.”

“What about the bathroom?”

Dean looked at his dad and grinned.

“Bedpan!”

Sam sighed and closed his eyes, knowing their jokes were just their way of telling him they cared … and that he was in some serious shit!

Sam had been bedridden for nearly a week, but finally, after much complaining from the youngest Winchester he had managed to talk his father into letting him go to school.

“Dean will take you and pick you up today.”

Sam sighed and gave his father an exasperated look, to which John gave his stern ‘don’t argue with me’ look. It spoke louder than words, and Sam knew better than to argue with it … at least this early in the game of the fights that would ensue between Sam and John.

Sam gave in, mainly because he knew his father was already scouring for another hunt, and that they would be leaving soon. He had a few goodbyes to make, and one other little thing that he needed to take care of.

Despite Sam’s love for learning, his need to delve into anything and everything that expanded his wealth of knowledge, he kept looking at the clock the entire day. It was the first time he’d honestly been bored in his classes. His knee bounced throughout the day, almost as if he had somewhere else to be.

“Am I boring you Mr. Winchester?”

Sam blinked out of his stupor and looked up to see Mr. Stebbins, his Ancient History teacher, staring at him, unamused.

“No sir.”

“Then perhaps you can repeat what I’ve just said?”

Sam gave a cocky little grin that would have shocked John and had Dean smiling as he repeated, nearly word for word, what the teacher had been discussing. It wasn’t that Sam had been listening, but that he had read ahead, and knew what had been coming. He was nothing if not prepared.

Finally the lunch bell rang. It’s when his entire sophomore class was scheduled to eat. A time that, even when you didn’t have any classes with your buddy, you could still chat it up and discuss how horrible school was. That you couldn’t wait to get a job and go out into the real world.

Sam laughed at this prospect. If only some of these assholes knew what the real world really was!

Stuffing his books in his locker, he slammed it shut then all but ran for the cafeteria, a grin curling his mouth that would be perfected by the time he was 18. It was a grin that would make anyone feel safe and warm, and that, coupled with those puppy dog eyes, would cause even the most tight lipped person to confess their greatest sins.

Just shy of the cafeteria, he heard the voice he hadn’t heard in over a week. The same voice he wasn’t sure would be directed at him again.

“Hi Sam.”

Turning, he grinned, then swallowed, his shyness suddenly taking hold.

“I um … didn’t think you’d speak to me again.”

“Are you kidding? It’s been so boring here without you!”

Without thought, he wrapped his arm around her waist and nodded down the hallway.

“Wanna eat in the courtyard?”

“But Sam, that’s where….”

“I know…”

Despite the deaths of Robert and Billy, Curtis, Mark, and Jacob had bounced back as only the jerks of the world do. They sat huddled together on a bench, discussing the ins and outs of who was who in the school.

But all talk ceased as Sam Winchester stepped into the courtyard.

“Hey look! It’s Sammy! Hey, come to take another beating there Sammy boy?”

Sam didn’t say anything because he learned one thing from Dean and John … sometimes words just didn’t cut it. He could tell them what assholes they truly were, but it would do no good. Instead, he took a seat on another bench with Katie.

All eyes were on him, and he could feel them boring into him, so he did the thing only a true Winchester could have pulled off. He lifted his head and met the gaze of Curtis, his gaze daring, a smirk curling ever so slightly on his mouth.

Curtis, not liking the look from the boy they had obviously bested, rose from his seat with a slap to his brother’s chest.

“Watch this!”

Curtis strode across the courtyard heading directly for Sam and Katie, though he paid her little mind. She, however, tried tugging on Sam’s arm to get him to leave. He didn’t seem to notice and stood his ground, refusing to run.

“Ready for another beating … Sammy?”

Sam looked up and smirked, his look all but daring Curtis to take a swing at him.

Curtis frowned, not liking the look, but refusing to look like a coward in front of his brother and friend, and did the only thing he could, he let his fist fly at Sam Winchester’s jaw.

Sam, prepared for the swing, ducked under and down to come up behind Curtis and slam his own fist into the side of the bullies head, making his ears ring as he staggered. Not wanting Katie caught in the line of fire, Sam actually stepped back, toward the other two who were rising to watch the fight, and jump in if Curtis needed them.

Recovering after a stumble that nearly made him lose his balance, Curtis let out a yell of rage and launched himself at the young Winchester. Sam ducked under the wild run and shouldered into him, coming up with a screaming Curtis, only to flip him over onto his back.

“That’s Sam!”

Mark, seeing his brother go down, charged into the fight with a yell so close to Curtis’, it was almost as if Curtis had thrown his voice. That is, if he weren’t currently on the ground lying on his back.

Turning to the sound, Sam didn’t wait for Mark to take the first swing, he drew back his fist, and with a quick jab he bloodied his own fist. It wasn’t Sam’s blood that coated his own fist, the blood came from a now yowling Mark as his nose pooled red, coppery liquid. Sam thought he sounded like a cat in heat!

“Sam! Lookout!”

It was the only hit he actually took. Jacob managed to jump in while Sam was taking care of Mark, and hit him in the jaw with a wild punch. Rubbing his jaw, Sam turned and chuckled.

“You hit like a girl.”

Three rapid punches flew then, landing Jacob on the ground, moaning as he held his hands to his face. His eye was beginning to swell already, and both his mouth and nose were bloody.

“What’s going on out here?!!”

The sound was none other than Mr. Stebbins, who came out to find out what all the commotion was.

John sat at the kitchen table of the Winchester latest ‘home’ scouring the internet while Dean flipped through some newspaper articles. Both were growing restless and desperately wanted another hunt … hopefully one that didn’t entail werewolves!

As the phone rang, John didn’t think twice, just reached blindly for it and brought the receiver to his ear.

“John Winchester.”

“What?”

“No wait, are you sure?”

”This is SAM we are talking about, right?”

“Suspended?!!!”

“Uh huh…”

“He did what?”

“Okay, I’ll be right there.”

Hanging up the phone, John looked to Dean and shook his head.

“Come on, we need to go pick up your brother … it seems he was suspended from school.”

“Sam? What did geek boy do now? Read through all the library books and piss off the librarian?”

“No, Dean.”

John turned; exasperated that Sam was in trouble … again.

“He got into a fight. Apparently Sam beat up three boys in school. They were sent home bleeding and bruised.”

“Is Sam okay?”

“The principal said Sam didn’t have a scratch on him.”

Heading to the car, John and Dean, as if sharing one brain, had the same thought.

That’s my boy!

Fin