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Dean sat in the parking lot of the middle school, the sun starting to set leaving the lot bathed in a soft glow. His hands tapped to the rhythm of the Led Zeppelin song playing in the background. He couldn’t help but think to himself how much happier Sam seemed since joining the soccer team. It had been a hard fought battle, one that almost reached explosive levels between Sam and their father. If Dean hadn’t stepped in it might have even progressed to blows. Luckily, Dean was able to reason with his dad that soccer would keep Sam’s fitness up and work the strategy part of Sam’s brain. Dean was pretty sure that was the only reason that John had caved; it would help with hunts.
With that said, he left strict instructions with Dean that Sam was to spend his Saturday afternoons (because Sam had practice and some games on Saturday mornings) were to be spent practicing with the crossbow. Unfortunately one the more recent hunts required the use of one and Sam fumbled it causing his dad to be extremely upset and harp on practicing those skills specifically. John expected nothing less than perfection. Dean understood since hunting was not something to be lax with, but he was frequently way too harsh on Sam in his opinion.
Luckily for Sam (and Dean realistically), John had taken a string of hunts with Caleb and left the boys for several weeks. John was due to return in a week, but the boys knew that could be extended yet again in an instant. John had left enough money for Dean to find a job that didn’t care about past experience (or lack of proof of) so long as he got the work done.
Dean was shaken out of his thoughts as he saw a shaggy-headed lanky teenager emerge from the building. The first thing that Dean noticed was Sam walking funny. The second thing he noticed was that Sam was trying to cover up the awkward gait. Dean sighed, he had a good idea of how the night would progress and just how much angst he was going to get from the stubborn kid.
“Hey kiddo, how was practice”
“It was fine.”
“Just fine?”
“Yeah”
“Alright, let’s go scrounge up some grub and head to bed. We’ve got a long day tomorrow. After your practice we gotta go work on some more bowhunting.”
Sam sighed “More? Haven’t I improved a ton over the last few weeks? I can handle my own, Dean.”
“I know you can Sammy. But dad left strict instructions. Besides, nothing wrong with extra practice. We can always get better.”
Sam grumbled something under his breath that sounded quite derogatory towards their father to Dean. “What was that?” he asked
“Nothing. Let’s just go home. I want to get as much sleep as possible tonight.”
“Sure thing, Sammy.”
Neither boy spoke for the remainder of the drive. Sam stared out the open window, enjoying the breeze that passed across his face and through his hair. Dean sang softly and tapped to the beat on the steering wheel. Both boys seemed quite content with the world in those few moments.
When the sleek black car pulled up in front of the motel door, Sam grimaced. It was easy to pretend his ankle wasn’t on fire when he wasn’t putting any weight on it. Now he was gonna have to walk into the motel room with his brother, and he wasn’t sure how he was gonna pull off the non-injury. Sam only lasted a few steps, before making a soft whine. His ankle felt way more sore walking on it now than it did leaving the school. But Sam was determined. He kept going, flopping down into the first chair he could once inside the room.
“Alright princess, you can give up the act. I know you’re hurting.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Come on Sammy, I’m not an idiot.”
Sam sighed again and rubbed his hand down his face. He thought he’d at least be able to pull it off until morning. “Alright fine, I twisted my ankle pretty good while doing some drills at the end of practice.”
“Yeah, I figured as much. Let me see.”
Dean knelt down in front of his brother and carefully untied his shoe and pulled off the sock underneath. Sam was always struck with just how gentle his brother could be. His brother was such a dichotomy, gentle and caring older brother opposite of a lethal killer when hunting the things that go bump in the night.
“It looks pretty swollen. I’ll get it wrapped up nice and tight and we’ll get you horizontal on the bed over there. Get some pillows under it and some ibuprofen into you.”
“I don’t need any pain meds, Dean. It’s really not that bad, especially when I’m resting it.”
“It’ll help with the swelling too, Sam. Between the ibuprofen, elevation, ice and wrapping it, you’ll be like new in no time.”
“Like before dad gets home in no time?” Sam asked, his lip caught in between his teeth in nervousness.
“Probably.”
Sam continued to fret thinking about his father’s reaction to an injury from an activity he didn’t want him doing in the first place.
“Don’t worry about him Sam, I’ll take care of it if he’s back before you heal up.”
“Thanks, Dean.” Sam said. Dean watched as he visibly relaxed knowing that his big brother was looking out for him.
Dean gave Sam a noogie on the head. It was the easiest way for him to show his love for his little brother without inducing a chick flick moment. Because you know the rules, no chick flick moments allowed.