Why Is It Always Sammy?

Sam's Tonsils

Sam Winchester was always the lighting rod for his family when it came to health. Maybe it was because of the crappy immune system he had because he got his shots so late as an infant due to John's grief induced neglect. Sam would never really know for sure but he always leaned toward that possibility.
Today, Sam's throat burned awfully. He couldn't swallow without feeling like acid was seeping into his stomach.
If that wasn't enough trouble to keep unnoticed, he tried his hardest not to let his teacher find him reading books he got from the library instead of his history textbook. Sam wasn't reading any comic book or anything other kids would do, no, Sam was reading an old mythology book trying to figure out what the creature he, his father and his brother were hunting at the moment. So far he had almost concluded his suspicion of it being a vengeful spirit trying to kill every beauty pageant winner in the current town they were in. Four young women had gone missing over the last two months. Way too many pageants happened in this town in Sam's opinion.
Sam had theorized on his patches of findings that about 20 years ago a teenager named Becky Wallis was 'cheated' out of her first prize in the third pageant this town did. She had taken the life of the winner by splitting her throat in two on stage after getting her crown and flowers. Soon after, before being taken to prison, she scalped the corpse and sewed the crown to the bloody blond curls. The same thing had happened recently to the courageous winners recently, only no one had seen the attacker on stage. John he recently found that Becky had taken her own life the first night in jail by sewing the crown to her own head, blond locks and all. The crazy girl bled out.
The thought made Sam's stomach churn painfully.
Sam was reading so intently that he didn't notice his teacher coming right towards him.

"As if a demon was controlling a..."

Was all Sam was able to read of the new paragraph before his teacher, Mr. Morrison, snatched it away.
"Samuel Addams, I am deeply disappointed in you. I really thought you were a different kind of student."
The man started. He then got a look of Sam's sad, pale face. The boy looked like he could gag at any given moment. In fact, the only color on the boy's face was his burning red cheeks, no doubt indicating a fever.
"Sorry Mr. Morrison. I guess I was too interested to put it down."
Usually the man's first thought was why a seemingly shy and polite kid like Sam would be interested in a book like this, but he was instantly thinking of why this was the first time he had heard Sam speak that day. The boy's voice was harshly hoarse and he rubbed his tender sounding throat as he spoke.
"You know what Sam,"
He said quietly.
"What do you say we forget this happened if you go down to the nurse's office and go home to rest. No offense but you look beyond awful."
Sam had to admit the plan sounded like bliss, but he had to stay in school. Although his father didn't care much about his grades, he liked knowing Sam was safe in a classroom.
"I-I can't."
The boy said sullenly. Morrison crouched down next to Sam's desk.
"Listen Sam, you're a hard worker. There's nothing wrong with taking a few days to rest up because son, you really look exhausted."
He chuckled.
Sam smiled. He felt worse then he probably looked. At last, Sam finally agreed to go to the nurse's office in secret hopes that she'd let him go back to class. Although she was very kind, she was a pretty awful nurse.
Unless you were literally vomiting from your nose, you just had a stomach cramp. Unless you were having a grand mal, you didn't have a seizure, you were just cold.
It truly was amazing how the 80 year old women still a school nurse. Sam had heard a rumor that they were going to get her an aid and hopefully she'd get the hint to retire.

Sam entered the office and sat quietly in a chair, rubbing his throat the whole time. One look at him in the nurse knew he was awfully sick.
"102.3. My, you're sporting quite a fever aren't you."
She said as she read the numbers on the ear thermometer. She, Mabel, put it back where she found it and pulled a blanket from the shelf.
"How about we call someone to come pick you up?"
Mabel handed the shaking boy in the chair the blanket before he could say anything. Before Sam could say anything, she put him in a dark room with two plastic covered beds with orders to lie down.
"I'll be right back."
Mabel walked over to the phone an looked through her files for Sam's home phone number.
For a brief moment, Sam considered leaving, or telling her he was fine. But he had a fever and he was SO tired.
Sam wrapped himself in the blanket and closed his eyes. Maybe it wouldn't be such a big deal if Dean picked him up so he could sleep in his own bed. Well, his temporary 'own' bed in their crappy apartment.
Before he knew it, Sam was sleeping peacefully in the warm blanket on the surprisingly comfortable bed.
                                  •
About ten minutes later, Sam was awakened by a large, warm hand shaking his shoulder softly.
"C'mon Sammy, let's go home."
Dean said. Sam slowly woke and opened his mouth to speak.
"Nope. Not yet. No speaking until I need some answers."
Dean guided Sam into the Impala and tucked a blanket around him. Sam warmed into the blanket and gave Dean a raspy,
"Thank you."
"You sound pretty bad bud. Let's get you in bed."
Dean drove off hurriedly towards the apartment. Sam tried not to throw up in the impala. Luckily, Dean pulled over and opened his door for him to be sick on the side of the road. When he was finished, Dean wiped his mouth with a napkin and let Sam lie down with his head on his lap.

    It didn't take long to get home from Sam's school but Sam managed to fall asleep on the ride. Dean lifted Sam carefully out of the car and brought him inside. He tucked Sam under a few blankets on the couch and put on the television. Next, Dean decided Sam should try to eat so he ordered some lunch.
Sam was still asleep when there was a knock at the door. Dean answered.
Either the pizza guy was a guy in his mid-forties, was angry, and was hiding their lunch, John Winchester was home.
"What are you doing here? You're supposed to be at work Dean!"
John said loudly an angrily.
"Shh Dad. Sam's sick. His school asked me to pick him up."
John's mad expression changed to worry.
"What happened?"
"He has a fever, said his stomach and throat hurt and he threw up."
John walked over to his youngest and sat him up in his lap.
Sam stirred but didn't wake. John sighed.
"If you want to go back to work, I'll stay with him."
Dean asked. He wanted to be with Sam and no matter what, he was staying.
John nodded.
Soon enough the boy's lunch came and John left. Sam woke and tried to eat but just ending up vomiting on himself. Blood was found in his gag and Dean tried to be calm about it. He hurriedly changed Sam's shirt and looked down his throat to see his tonsils bleeding.
"It's okay Sammy. I'll bring to the hospital and they'll make it all better."
Sam started to faintly cry as Dean picked him up in a warm blanket.
Dean quickly drove to the nearest hospital. John saw them driving and called Dean.
"Where are you going? I thought Sam was pretty sick."
"He is. I'm taking him to the hospital. His tonsils are bleeding."
"I'll meet you boys there."
John said before hanging up the phone.
Dean heard horns honking and people screaming as John drove beside them.

Soon Sam was admitted to the hospital and Dean and John refused to leave his side. I pray for the ones who tried to separate them.
Sam had his tonsils removed and John held him comfortably until he woke.
"Dad?"
Sam whispered in a raspy voice.
"Shh shh Sammy. Save your voice."
Dean whispered to him.
After a few hours, Sam was sent home on the condition he took a few days off school to heal. And by the end of those few days, Sam was defiantly sick... of jello.

Super sorry for that terrible joke at the end... I'll try to update soon. Sorry if you hated it. Thanks for reading ❤️❤️❤️❤️