The ride to the hospital had felt like an eternity to both of the older Winchesters.

John had done the best he could with their medical supplies, securing the glass in place to the best of his ability before placing Sam in the backseat of the Impala with his brother.

By the time they had made it to Sioux Falls General, Sam's pulse had plummeted and the mirror fragment had shifted, causing Sam to lose couple of pints of blood.

John and Dean were currently in the waiting room of the surgical floor, awaiting news from Sam's surgeon.

There had been a rush of words as a permission form was thrust into John's hands to sign his consent for surgery, with the words internal damage and infection sticking in his mind. Two hours later, they still had heard nothing of how Sam's surgery was going. Dean broke the silence from where he was seated across from his father.

"You should never have allowed him on this hunt, I knew he was too young," Dean stated, sighing, no venom behind the words.

"What happened could have happened to any seasoned hunter," John replied evenly.

"It didn't happen to any hunter though, it happened to Sam. He shouldn't have been in that house, Dad, and you know it," Dean told him, not breaking eye contact with John.

"And you shouldn't have been facing off against a black dog at fifteen, but you were. Sam did everything right back there, and moreover, he wanted to be a part of this hunt. I'm not going to lie and say I was okay with it but Sam proved himself as a hunter. I will never be okay with one of my sons being hurt, Dean, but I won't apologise for having you both prepared. You know what's out there. Everything I do is to make sure you can hold your own against all the evil sons of bitches out there," John stated, rising from his seat.

"I know dad, but I can't… I can't lose him. What if-"

"No. He'll be fine. Now, I think we could both use some caffeine. I saw a machine across the hall," John changed the subject.

"Yeah, okay," Dean replied, standing and going to retrieve the requested beverages.

Once Dean had left the room, John retook his seat, placing his hands in his heads.

"Please… please, let my baby boy be okay," John whispered to himself, tears prickling his eyes.

Sam wasn't a kid anymore - he was sixteen and John was so proud of him for the way he handled himself, showing no fear and, even injured, continuing to try and get through to Aiden. But he was still his little boy and it wasn't okay. Being in this life wasn't okay.

The hunter was at a loss between the inner turmoil of keeping his kids safe while also making sure they were prepared for whatever evil lay ahead of them.

He was brought from his thoughts as Sam's doctor entered the room, followed by his eldest son.

"Mr. Winchester, I'm Dr. Tierney. We met briefly in the E.R."

"John, please, and this is my other son, Dean. Is Sam alright?"

"Please, if you'd both take a seat."

+++

Two weeks later

"It's only a translation, the doctor said no exertion, reading and writing is not exertion!" Sam huffed, exasperated.

"Boy, if you don't sit your ass down on that couch I'm going to tie you to it," Bobby growled.

Sam exhaled, frustrated, but did as asked as he wasn't sure if the older hunter would actually go through with his threat.

Just then the front door opened and Dean bounded into the living room.

"That's two more souls gone into the light and hopefully one roasting on a spit," Dean confirmed, taking a seat beside Sam.

"How you feeling, kiddo?" John asked as he too entered the living room.

"Bored, and in the mood for some Latin," Sam replied making puppy-dog eyes at his dad.

"NO LATIN!" came the reply from his father, brother, and Bobby.

"Ugh, I'm going to get blisters on my ass if I stay on this couch much longer," Sam complained. He threw his arms in the air.

"Watch it," John warned with no real threat.

"Sorry, sir," Sam answered sheepishly.

Trying to placate his son, John suggested, "How about one more day of bad TV and then we'll think about starting your training again, starting with Latin?"

"Really?" Sam asked hopefully.

"Yes. Now rest!" John ordered, resolute.

Dean threw a look at his father and John could tell everything his eldest wanted to say, mostly because deep down he felt that way, too. But his decision was made. He would train his sons to be the best hunters they could be.

This was their life now and he had to put his misgivings to the back of his mind. His kids would have a tough life ahead of them, but so would all the evil sons of bitches out there with his boys hunting them.

The End.