Serving Them

Chapter 41- Protecting My Brother

WARNINGS: Mentions of Violence; Mentions of Assault; Graphic Violence; Homicidal Threats

Meanwhile Back Home

Sam was driving when he received a phone call. He waited for the next red light to answer it.

Hello..."

"Hello, Mr. Winchester, I'm calling in regards to your son Stiles Winchester. Do you have a moment," the person on the phone asked.

Sam felt his face shift a bit to confusion.

"Yeah, what's going on," Sam asked, pulling over.

"Stiles got into a fight at school and we need you to come pick him up," the person said, "Do you have time to come in?"

"Yes, I do," Sam said, "I'll be there shortly."

"Thank you," the person said.

"No problem."

Sam hung up the phone and sighed deeply. He texted Dean to tell him, he'll be a bit late coming back. Then headed over to the school.

Sam walked into the office and instantly saw Stiles sitting down with a few bruises on his face. Due to unstable powers, he had a bit of a hard time healing them on instinct as Theo did. Sam knocked on the door, making Stiles look up. A small look of gratefulness rested in his eyes at seeing his uncle pick him up.

"Are you Mr. Winchester," the staff asked.

"Yep," Sam said.

"I just need you to sign this," the staff said, "We don't know what happened out there. Stiles is a really bright student. He's got so much going for himself. It was almost like he was a completely different person. But we hope he can do better after this weekend is over."

"Thank you," Sam said, motioning at Stiles to follow him.

Stiles got up and walked out with Sam. He was silent for most of the ride before Sam parked in front of the house.

"Want to talk about it," Sam asked.

"No..."

"Stiles..."

"I'm good, Uncle Sam," Stiles said, getting out.

He walked inside and went directly to his bedroom. Dean was confused before Sam walked in as well.

"What the hell happened," Dean asked.

"Stiles was having a hard time at school," Sam said, "He won't talk to me though."

Dean knitted his eyebrows and went to the door. He knocked on it lightly.

"Stiles? It's me," Dean said, "Can you open the door? I only want to talk."

Stiles unlocked the door and sat back down. Dean opened it slowly and once he saw the marks on his face his mood shifted. He quickly knelt beside Stiles and gently turned his face.

"What happened," Dean asked, his tone turning ice cold, "Who did this to you?"

"I got into a fight," Stiles said, brushing it off, "It was stupid..."

"Stiles, don't lie to me," Dean said, knowing he could easily win a fight on his own, "What happened?"

Stiles glanced at his dad before lowering his head.