AN: Those that have read John Winchester's Journal will be familiar with the character Silas and his mysterious death while he visited alone with Sammy.

Painful Pasts

Sam got into the car and flopped down with a thud. He was tired. The whole Bloody Mary experience was too much for him. It had brought up memories he wished to remain forgotten.

Dean started the car and looked over at Sam. Sam's face was drawn and tired. "You need to stop blaming yourself for Jess's death," Dean said finally, breaking the silence.

Sam looked over at him, brows pinched together. "I don't… I mean, I blame myself for sure, but that's not what Bloody Mary saw in me."

Dean turned onto the main road. "What do you mean? I thought for sure she came after you because of Jess."

Sam averted his gaze, looking out the car window. He didn't want to have this conversation. He never wanted to have this conversation.

Dean glanced over at him. "If it's not Jess, Sam, who did you kill?"

It was a good question. Dean knew everything there was to know about Sam, or so he thought. The idea that Sam was keeping something like this from him… He didn't want to think about it.

Sam looked down at his hands as he fidgeted with his thumbs. "I don't want to talk about."

"Come on, Sam, don't be like that."

Sam glanced over at Dean. "Really, Dean, just let it go."

Dean frowned. "This really has you rattled, doesn't it?"

"Dean," Sam warned. "Drop it."

"Fine, don't tell. Who am I? Just your brother."

Sam sighed. "I don't want to fight, Dean. Just stop."

"Then talk to me."

"You'd never believe me if I told you."

"Try me," Dean challenged, pulling the car over to the side of the road.

Sam looked over at his brother and then down at his hands.

"It was years ago. I was just a kid, seven or so."

"Okay, now you've got my attention. What the hell did you do when you were seven?"

Sam swallowed hard and looked out the window. "Do you remember when Dad left me with Silas?"

Dean turned in his seat to face Sam. He frowned. "You mean the guy Dad said knew something about you, something important? I remember him."

"Yeah, him."

Dean began to get a sick feeling in his gut. "You mean 'him' like you killed him?"

Sam ran a hand through his hair. "It wasn't that simple."

"I remember now. We left you with Silas for a few hours. He said he needed to talk with you alone. When we came back, he was splattered on the walls."

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I know."

"What do you mean you know?"

"I mean I did it. I killed him. It just happened."

"Sammy, you don't just happen to kill someone, let alone blow them up. What the fuck?" Dean was getting angry now. "Silas was a good man. When that hunter came after you, saying you killed Silas … Dad believed in you. I believed in you. Jesus, Sam. You killed a man. You were seven. How?"

"I don't know. With my mind I guess."

"You blew someone up with your mind?" Dean said slowly.

"Yeah, I guess I did."

"Why, Sam? Silas was a decent guy."

"You didn't know him."

"And you did?" Dean snapped.

Sam snapped his gaze to Dean. "I was just protecting myself."

"What do you mean you were protecting yourself?"

Sam sighed. "I really think we should drop this. I don't want to piss you off any more than you already are."

"Oh, now I want to know. No more secrets, Sam. Spit it out. What the hell happened that made you need to kill a man?"

"He attacked me, all right."

"What?" Dean said, eyes narrowed.

"He grabbed me, okay? Tried to… tried to …" Sam waved vaguely in the air.

"Tried to what?"

Sam sighed and looked over at Dean. "Fuck me, all right. There I said it. Dad's friend tried to fuck me."

"Son of a bitch! That fucking bastard!" Dean wrung his hands on the wheel.

"Dean, it was years ago. Nothing to worry about now."

"Sam, I need to know. God, I don't want to, but I need to know. Did he… did he hurt you, you know like that?"

Sam didn't answer, he just looked out the window, but it was answer enough. Dean got the message loud and clear. Someone had molested his brother, and he and Dad had all but handed him up on a silver platter.

"Fuck," Dean choked out a sob. Dean knotted his fingers in his hair. "My fucking brother, my baby brother."

Sam's eyes began to prick with tears, and he looked away. Dean caught the movement and looked over at him. He wasn't seeing Sam now, he was seeing Sam then, vulnerable and alone.

Dean rested his arms on the steering wheel and leaned against them. "How come you didn't tell me?" he said, taking deep breaths. " I could have helped you."

"I didn't want to get in trouble."

"Sammy… it wasn't your fault, you know that right?"

"Yeah, I know."

"No, I don't think you do. Look at me, Sam. It wasn't your fault."

Sam swallowed hard and nodded. "I know, Dean. It's okay. It's in the past."

"Sammy you can't bury something like this. You need to let it out. You need to know you're not alone." Dean shifted in his seat and reached up, cupping Sam's cheek. "It wasn't your fault."

A tear ran down Sam's cheek, and he nodded. His lower lip began to quiver.

Sam wiped his eyes. He looked like a broken child sitting there now. "He hurt me, Dean."

Dean fought back his own tears. "Shh, I know, Sammy. I know." Dean reached across the car and put a hand on the back of Sam's neck, giving it a squeeze. "Come here."

Dean pulled Sam over to him and Sam let him. Sam collapsed into him and began to sob. Dean ran his hands up and down Sam's back and sides chanting over and over that it would be okay, even though Dean had no idea how.

AN: I have beta profile and currently I am only working on one project. If anyone has a story they want help with, contact me. Thanks, snarks