I don't own Supernatural.
Warning for language and child abuse.
John hasen't seen Sam since he was 14. The night rings through his head, the yelling, screeming, the fight. But that's what Sam does best. He fights, and he can't take an order for the life of him. That's what got him into this mess.
The day started out fine. Sam went to school, excelling, and far ahead of his class. He was a smart kid, and he could easily out run any grown man. He's slim, and once he's loose, he's gone, good luck catching him.
The school day had breezed by him. He walked the 4 blocks home, or in other words to the rundown, ant infested apartment. It was gross, and again only had two bedrooms, so he and Dean had to share.
He walked in, noticing John wasn't back yet. He was supposed to be, but he figured he had meant later today. Sam sat his bag down on their dangerously wobbly table, and went to the couch. He was bored, and would rather do something outside, but his dad and Dean rarely let him beyond the salt lines that lace the window sills. The only place he can go is school. No because school is really safe. Bullies are everywhere, child malesters are waiting outside, and school shootings happen everyday. Yet the outside lawn has grass hoppers and dirt, and wow, that could get him sick. Even though one kid was sent home for having measles, but honestly it looked like Ebola. Cuz dirt's real dangerous.
Dean wouldn't be back either for a while. He had a new girlfriend named Katie. She honestly was like all the other slut girls Dean hung around with. Looked the same too. She would be done and over with in a few days anyway.
All Sam could do was start his math homework. He had to find the Hypotenuse of a triangle, which was easy. All he had to do was remember a2b2=c2. And from there it was simple math. He was even told he could skip a grade. He really wanted to, and he bet his dad would appreciate it. That makes it so Sam can graduate sooner, and start hunting more. Sam would rather die, than be dragged across the country and have no real place to call home. He needed the feeling of homeliness. He had to have a foundation under him to keep him going. Right now, that was Dean. And he always helped with Sam's academics.
The sun had started to go down, and the bright colors of the sunset shined through the living room curtains. There was bright pinks and oranges and purples. His father and Dean never appreciated them. That's why they'll never stay gold. He was still holding on.
The bright arrays of the night were interrupted by John stumbling through the door. A wave of sour smelling fumes rushed in with him. Obviously alcohol. Something must have gone wrong with the hunt for his dad to have gotten this drunk.
After he dropped the few backs in his hand he looked around with anger written on his face.
" Where's Dean?" John snorted. Of course. Dean was always the first thing on Johns mind, drunk or not. He was John's golden child, his prized possession.
" He's staying at Katie's house tonight," Sam answered.
" Oh," John laughed to himself and continued," He also left-er you behind," Johns voice turned angry," Because you aren't worth anything,"
Sam could also hear John mumbling things about money and about him being such a financial burden. I guess now wasn't the time to talk about moving up a grade, or about anything for that matter.
Sam quickly sat up and started to grab his homework and books.
" oh, so'yo deci-ed to d-o home-wor-ks instead of train like I to-ld you to,"
Oh great, here we go.
" I couldn't because you won't let me outside."
" Well-lllll ya coul-ve done er inside then huh, bu-t you were gon-an be a brat an not do it huh?,"He spat.
" I did all I could," Sam started to get annoyed as well.
" Doubt it," John roles his eyes and walked closer to Sam.
" When I give-a order, I exp-ecg ya to follow them," John got even closer putting a hand on Sam's shoulder.
He couldnt help a wince as his fathers fingernails dug into his shoulder, and bruises started to form.
" You under-stan'? Nothin you d-o will ever' be important,"
" Y-Yes sir,"
He has never seen his father so intoxicated. It was really scaring him.
" Piece of shit, ya only think bout your sssself,"
Sam wiggles out of Johns grip, and grabbed all his stuff.
" Where you think you're going?" John spat and pushed the books from Sam, almost pushing him into the coffee table.
" To-to my room sir,"
" No," he smiled," Not until I teach you boy a lesson,"
This made Sam's face go pale. John had never, ever, laid a hand on his boys, but when had he ever been this drunk? All the blood left his face, and before he could see it coming, John punched him square in the jaw. That was gonna leave a nasty bruise. He fell to the floor holding his jaw in his hands. John jumped on Sam and punched him once more on his left cheek.
" Thatt'll teach ya a lessson," He slurred.
John got up, but only to grab Sam and throw him into the coffee table. The sharp corner sliced down his right cheek, an inch from the side of his eye, going all the way down to his jaw. Blood started to spew out. There was gonna be a mess afterwards, and no doubt he would have to clean it up.
John gave him two kicks to the stomach, and then started to throw Sam's books at him. And they weren't flimsy chapter books, they were class tact books with hard covers, shared edges, and that weighed a ton. Each blow made more and more tears pop in his eyes. There was no way his dad would do this, but look at him now. Bloody, and curled in on himself, Jahn had did this to him. His own father. His hero and own blood did this to him. And no one was here to help him.
The beating had finally seized, and he was left on the floor as his father walked off to bed.
He cried and his body curled into himself. He needed to call someone get help. He didn't care anymore if his father loved him or had him. He only wanted to get away and never come back.
He had to find his Dads phone. Even through the blood going into his eyes, he could see his fathers jacket. That's where it would be. He started to crawl, and couldn't help a small yelp of pain to escape his lips. It wasn't loud enough for John to hear, but enough for him to let himself know this was painful. His side was throbbing, his head pounding, and his arms and legs wouldn't function. By the time he got to the chair that his fathers jacket was thrown upon, he was exhausted. He barely had enough energy to search through the first pocket. Nothing. He wanted to cry. He reached for the next. Yahtzee, his fingers slipped over a smooth object. He pulled it out and searched it for Dean's number. Dean would take care of this. His shaky fingers were barely about to click the right buttens to get the the contacts. He went to press Dean's name, but landed on Bobby's. That was good enough, it was someone. He knew he had to hurry, just in case John walked back out. He couldn't take another beating.
Ever ring made him more nervous. What if he didn't pick up, what if no one came?
By the third ring, a gruff voice could he heard through the other side.
Thank god.
" Singer, to who am I speaking?"
" Bobby?" Sam barely made out. It was cracked and tears sprung once more into his eyes. Although he didn't see Bobby that offer, he still trusted him.
His voice was like sugar replacing salt. It was refuge.
" Sam? Is that you boy?"
" Bob-by, I-I, umm,"
He could clearing hear the boy was in distress, and that's all he needed.
" Don't worry son, I'm on my way," the line disconnected. Not by purpose, but because the phone died.
He just hoped Bobby knew where to go.
Of course Boody knew where to go. He always kept tabs on the idjits just in case one of them did something stupid. It was good news they were only 13 minutes away, and whatever the boys needed, would soon be fixed.