Thin Line

Chapter 1

Summary: John is walking a thin line. His obsession with hunting will jeopardize one son physically and both sons emotionally. Limp Sam to come.

Warning: Touchy subject!

Disclaimer: This story is not meant to offend anyone and I do not own any Winchesters, but thank you for asking.

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When Sam and Dean got home from school, John was sitting at their poor excuse for a dining room table in their shabby little apartment, with books and newspapers spread out before him. There had been some unexplainable deaths last year at a nearby summer camp, the owners had come close to closing the doors, but had ultimately decided to give it another go for the upcoming summer, which was still months away. He wasn't researching though, he was just staring off into outer space, and he looked like he had been like that for a while. He was so deep in thought that he hadn't even noticed his sons, the boys liked at each other, shrugged, and then they looked back at their father. They were an hour late getting home, because Dean had gotten detention, usually John would be furious at their tardiness.

"Dad?" Dean called.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked.

John got a look on his face that told the boys that he'd just gotten an idea, he looked each boy over then his eyes came to rest on Sam's face and an unsettling smirk formed on his lips. Sam was slightly frightened by the look his father was giving him; he turned to Dean, who merely shrugged. "Dad did you figure out a way to get into that camp yet?" Dean asked.

Without taking his eyes off Sam, he replied, "As a matter of fact, I think I just did."

Dean followed John's eyes to Sam, a big smile plastered it's self on Dean's face also and Sam finally caught on. "Aw, come on! No!"

"What's wrong Sammy? Don't ya wanna go to camp?" Dean teased.

"If you like the idea so much why don't you go? Send Dean, Dad please?"

"I can't Sam no one will ever believe that Dean needs to go to this camp." John said.

"And I'm eighteen, Dude; I don't go to summer camp."

Sam ignored his brother. "What'd you mean Dad? What kind of camp is it?!"

"I bet its band camp," Dean laughed. "Or cheer camp."

Sam looked horrified. "I am not cheerleading! Dad, it's not cheerleading is it? I can't go—"

"Settle down Son, it's not cheerleading," John reassured him, Sam sighed in relief. "You're not going to like it though, you're going to have to work hard to get into this camp, your gonna need endurance and self-discipline. We need you to do this Sammy, lives are at stake, can we count on you to stick it out?"

Sam was hardly ever 'needed' on hunts, he'd been hunting with his father and brother for years now, but he'd never been an essential part of any hunt and now his father and Dean were depending on him and he was not going to let them down. "Yes Sir, I can do it."

"Good boy."

"Come on Dad, don't keep us in suspense, what kind of camp is it?" Dean asked.

"Well boys..." John cleared his throat loudly. "It's a camp for kids with eating disorders."

"What?!" Dean demanded. "You're going to make Sam throw up every thing he eats! This is never gonna work, do boys even have eating disorders?"

"Yes some boys have eating disorders and I was going to let Sam pick."

"Pick what? Between throwing everything up and not eating at all?"

"Yes, between Bulimia and Anorexia."

"Are you serious?—you can't be serious! He's already too skinny, it's not healthy."

"Registration is in three months, he'll only have to do it until then. People are dying."

"Yeah and Sammy will be next!"

"Dean," Sam said softly. "It's okay, I wanna help."

"Sam..." Dean pleaded, the very idea of Sam having an eating disorder, even a temporary one, terrified him.

"Really Dean I'll be fine, it's only for a few months."

"Not that anyone cares, but just for the record I don't think this is a good idea." Dean said firmly.

John shot Dean a look. "Now, why were you boys so late getting home today?"

John had made Sam choose his disorder before dinner, so they could decide what he could eat. Sam had decide to take on Anorexia, John agreed that that was for the best, people weren't likely to notice a boy binge eating, but they would definitely notice if a boy wasn't eating. Sam had more superficial reasons for choosing Anorexia such as not wanting to ruin his teeth.

Sam sat miserably at the dinner table, John had made burgers for himself and Dean and he made Sam a good size salad—Man did he want a burger! He tried to pretend his salad was a burger, but is certainly did not taste like a burger, when he had started to drowned it in ranch John protested. "Easy on the dressing Kiddo, think of all those calories."

Sam pushed the dressing away, John nodded in approval and Dean looked sympathetic. "Dad, can't he just eat in our room? I feel like we're teasing him."

"It's going to be like this at school tomorrow, he needs to get used to it." John replied.

"Can't he just have like half a burger or something? You can't just cut him off cold turkey." Dean begged.

"No, now drop it Dean."

Sam wasn't listening to his father and brother; he had to focus all of his energy on not snatching Dean's burger right out of his hand. He could not figure out why he was so hungry, it hadn't been that long since he'd last eaten, and usually he could make it from lunch to dinner without any problems, but right now, a felt famished. Maybe it was just because he knew he could not eat, it was all mental, he was psyching himself out, he had to try not to think about it and just eat his salad. Of course, the more he tried not to think about it, the more he did think about it and the hungrier he got. He eat his salad quickly and then pushed his chair back. "May I please be excused?"

"Sure." John replied.

Sam grabbed his plate, washed it, then hurried to his and Dean's room and did everything he could think of to take his mind off food. After doing his homework and showering, he tried to read a book, but ended up staring at the same page for nearly an hour going over all of his favorite foods in his head. When he finally realized what he was doing he set the book on his desk, and then fall back onto his bed with his hands behind his head, 'this sucks', he thought to himself. He promptly and mercifully drifted off with thoughts of gummy bears, a chocolate shake and a large steak dancing in his head.

Note: This story is for my best pal Robbie who died in February 2006 as result of his eating disorder. It's true, there are boys that have eating disorders and they should not be taken lightly, they can be fatal.