A/N - This story contains references to past dub-con relationships between a teenager and adult women. There is still no detail, but this warning is in place for anyone who might need it.


August 2004

The television was on purely for background noise. Sam wasn't really paying attention, but instead focused on reading his Humanities textbook.

Later, he wasn't certain what drew his attention to the newscast, but something had.

"... judge today vacated the lifetime no contact order between Mary Kay Letourneau and Vili Fualaau. Letourneau, you may recall was the teacher convicted in 1997 of having an affair with her student Fualaau, beginning when he was thirteen years old. Fualaau has always insisted that he was not a victim in the situation ... "

Sam dropped his book.

He suddenly remembered Dean coming back from Miss Newman's house and going straight to the shower and shouting at Sam not to touch him.

He remembered Dean making him promise not to ever go anywhere with a teacher alone, even though at the time, Dean was alone with a particular teacher on a regular basis.

She gave Dean money when Dad was gone longer than expected, money Dean used to buy food and warm clothes for Sam.

All the pieces suddenly came together.

Sam hated his father more at that moment than he ever had at any other point in his life.


February 2006

"What do you suppose is going to happen to her?" Sam asked as Dean drove them away from Minnesota.

"Deputy Kathleen?" Dean frowns.

"No," Sam rolled his eyes. "The girl. Missy."

"I think, with years of therapy, she may become a functional psychopath." Dean shrugged.

"I'm serious!" Sam protested.

"So am I!" Dean snapped back. "Her family hunted people, Sam. They killed people, probably ate them, and made things out of their body parts. And, oh yeah, there's the fact her family tree doesn't fork. I can guarantee you her father and brothers have done some bad things to her."

"You would know, wouldn't you?" Sam asked softly.

"What are you talking about?" Dean snorted, but his grip tightened on the steering wheel until his knuckles were white. "You know Dad would never do anything like that."

"Not Dad," Sam looked at his older brother. "Miss Newman, in Ohio when you were 15."

"What about her?" Dean growled, but looked straight out the windshield.

"She made you do things you didn't want to, didn't she?" It wasn't a question, despite the way Sam phrased it.

"She ... " Dean ran a hand through his hair nervously. "Dad was gone on a hunt, and we ran out of money. She caught me stealing the petty cash from the front office at school. She figured out that we were on our own. She made me an offer, that I could come to her place and she would give me money, or she would turn me in for stealing from the school. They would have called the police, and then when they found out Dad had been gone for two weeks, I would have been in juvie and you'd have been in foster care."

"Dad should have never left us alone without enough money." Sam huffed softly. "You should have never had to sell yourself to her for money."

"It wasn't ... " Dean trailed off, several expressions crossing his face. "It wasn't that bad, Sammy. I mean, it's every fifteen year old boy's dream, right? To have sex and get paid for it? Beats the hell out of blowing truck drivers in the motel parking lot for money."

"Oh my god, Dean," Sam breathed.

"No!" Dean shook his head. "I never actually did that. I had a few offers, and I had to fight off one who didn't like the word no, but I never actually did that."

Dean stared straight ahead out the windshield, not looking at Sam. They both knew what that meant.

"When we find Dad ... " Sam began.

"No, you're not!" Dean shouted. "It's long since over and done with, Sam! He doesn't need to know. He's got enough guilt about the things that he does know that happened when we were kids!"

'He damn well should." Sam huffed.

"And besides, I told you, it wasn't that bad." Dean insisted. "I got money and got laid. They got what they wanted. Everyone ...

"Wait. They?" Sam interrupted. "Miss Newman wasn't the only one?"

Dean's hands clenched on the wheel again. "That motel in South Florida, with flamingoes all over everything? Dad told me he paid for a week, but the manager came to me later and said he had only paid for five nights. I worked off the next three until he got back. And there was another teacher, right before I dropped out, but I saw her looking, and went after her in that case. We needed the money. Once I had her, she had to pay me off to keep her husband from finding out."

"No wonder you hate Florida." Sam mused.

"You don't survive this life for as long as we have without learning to hate a lot of things." Dean said softly.

Silence descended between them for a good fifty miles before Sam spoke again.

"Dean, I'm sorry."

"For what?" Dean glanced over at his brother, puzzled.

"You always took care of me, and most of the time I was a pain in the ass. I never appreciated it. I know you skipped meals so I wouldn't go hungry, and you gave me your jacket sometimes so I wouldn't be cold, and I know some of the things you did for money. I'm sorry I didn't appreciate it more when we were kids."

Dean's hands tightened on the wheel again, and the muscle in his jaw twitched. "No chick flick moments, Sammy." He answered hoarsely.