A/N: Sam and Dean are the same age in this fic, and are not related. This story also contains romance between two males, so if you don't like it, don't read it. There is also a trigger warning if anyone here suffers from self harming, and can I also say that please try your best to avoid hurting yourself. I used to, but I've managed to mainly get over that now, and I hope you can find peace, too. Without further ado, here is the fic!
Sam was running - for his life, it seemed - as fast as he could manage. The boys were gaining on him, and his legs were growing tired. He ducked into an alleyway a few blocks away from the school and prayed that they would run past.
"Down here!" He heard one of them yell. It looked like his prayers were to no avail. The boy's shout was then seconded by the roaring of the rest of them and the pounding of ruthless footsteps on heard concrete. The same hard concrete which Sam suddenly found himself sprawled on, red liquid oozing from his head. He closed his eyes and waited for the beating to begin.
"Sammy," Reese, the 'leader' of the group cooed. "Are you going to open your eyes for us?" Sam lay still, not daring to flinch when he felt Reese's presence next to him. He could hear the click of his knees as he bent down so his face was level with Sam's. "Come on, Winchester. Just a peek." He felt Reese's hand grasp his face, and when he tried to pull away, another one of the boys whose name Sam didn't know, grabbed his head to hold him still. Sam had given in by now, and opened his eyes in panic. "That's good, Sam. Keep 'em open." He threatened.
"Class starts in 10 minutes," One of the boys said. "We've gotta get going soon." Reese frowned and emitted a small growling sound as he stepped away from Sam.
"Let him go," He ordered the guy who was holding his head like a vice. Sam was still on the floor, dazed, as they usually would have beaten the crap out of him by now. "We'll catch you after school, Winchester." He promised. Sam watched apprehensively as they walked away. He waited until he could just see five long figures at the end of the road, before standing up and dusting himself off. He shrugged his bag over his shoulder, and made his way towards his school.
"Hey, Sammy!" Dean called, as he ran towards best friend. "I've been looking for you, dude. Where have you been?" He asked.
"Just got lost on the way to school, that's all." He lied, shrugging.
"Yeah, and I didn't get laid last night." He said, sarcastic. "What really happened?" He repeated, knowing when his Sammy had lied. They'd spent their every waking moment since the beginning of the year together, with only themselves to comfort one and other. Of course Dean could tell, you idiot, Sam thought. He took a new approach.
"It doesn't matter, alright?" He sighed, and silently wished that Dean would just leave him alone. Sam didn't want Reese and co. to see that he was hanging round with him.
"Wow, okay. Cool it, Sasquatch," Dean said, before nudging Sam on the arm with his own. The younger boy flinched, but Dean just passed it off as Sam liking his personal space. "Come on, you were late for first period, let's not make that happen with second, too." And with that, they set off. The walk through the halls was a lot more intimidating than it usually was today, because Sam couldn't help but look around for the guys who had threatened to beat him up after school. It turned out Sam was worrying over nothing, and they reached their lesson without any bother. Sam and Dean took their usual seats at the back of the class, next to each other. One thing Sam liked about this place was that the teachers generally liked him, because he was acing all his classes, and wasn't one of the noisy kids. This meant that they let him do pretty much whatever he wanted, and he'd never abused that fact. The only thing he'd ever requested was that him and Dean could sit by each other in every lesson they had together. Mr. Austin walked in, the door banging shut behind him.
"Good morning everyone. Get your books and equipment out, and I'll be around shortly to check that you have everything that you need. I'd also advise that if you do not have the required equipment, that you ask one of your friends nicely if they have any spare which they could lend to you. Otherwise, you'll be spending ten minutes of your lunch with me," He smiled. Sam loved Mr. Austin. He was their English teacher, and he was one of those amazing teachers with a dry sense of humour, who was good to the sensible kids, and despised the loud ones.
"Shit," Dean mumbled. Sam turned sideways to discover him searching frantically through his bag.
"Forget something?" He laughed, getting out his things.
"As a matter of fact, I have. You wouldn't happen to-" Sam cut him off by throwing Dean's pencil case at him. "Thanks, man," Dean smiled. He had two pencil cases, one that he kept at home, and one that stayed at Sam's. Sam always brought his things with him, so he also came to school with Dean's second case every day. It had kind of become a tradition for them, when Sam had gotten fed up of having to wait for Dean after class every period so he could do his detention and then they could go do whatever they were going to do together. After Mr. Austin had completed his circuit around the classroom, and five kids were doomed to detention, the lesson began. As it was near the beginning of the year, they were starting by reading Of Mice and Men, which Sam had already read, being the nerd he is. He didn't really pay much attention during the lesson, and just doodled in his notebook. He wasn't even concentrating on what he drew, either. At the end of the lesson, him and Dean gathered up their things and strolled out of the lesson. "So, what was that about?" Dean asked.
"What was what about?" Sam replied.
"You know what, Sammy. Not concentrating in lesson, which, by the way, was on a book you adore. And you were doodling through the whole thing. In the whole year and a bit I've known you, you've never done that. So explain." He demanded.
"You know what, Dean? I'm just tired." He snapped. Before Dean had the chance to say anything back, he continued. "I'm tired of the same shit every day, I'm tired of being beaten up, I'm tired of pretty much everything." Dean stood, mouth gaping, taken aback by Sam's admittance. He knew that he used to get picked on a lot by the boys in their year, but Sam had told him that all that had stopped. I guess he lied, Dean thought.
"Sammy," Dean whispered, but Sam was already walking away. He was in no mood to talk about his feelings, and they didn't have the next class together, so there was no point sticking around.
The next hour went by in a blur. Sitting through an hour of maths was an easier task than usual, with the dread of being confronted by Dean awaiting him. He wanted to stay in the classroom forever, and not have to explain himself to Dean, or face the bullies. But the bell rang all too quickly, and he was waiting for Dean to come by his class and go to lunch with him. After ten minutes of waiting, Sam decided to walk up to his class, and see if he had detention with Mr. Finch. That would be strange, though, considering he was practically Mr. Finch's star pupil, having an outstanding ability in mathematics. When Sam reached the classroom, there was no one there. Where could Dean possibly have gotten to? He thought. Sam walked to the cafeteria alone, and bought a bottle of water. He moved his way through the crowd of teenagers to go and sit in his and Dean's usual spot, outside underneath the bleachers. It was a pretty secluded area, for a high school, and that was why they liked it. Sam had difficulties being around a large number of people at one given time, and Dean, being the understanding person he was, had put Sammy before himself. Dean hadn't liked the idea at first, because there were next to no instances when he'd be able to chat up the girls. Throughout last year, though, he'd grown accustomed to the lonely area, and had begun to enjoy it too. Sam didn't know whether it was because they could spend time together, or because Dean had never really encountered such serenity before. It was a strange thing to say about high school bleachers, but it was true. Where they lived, there was constant noise and ruckus, but breaks and lunches - and sometimes weekends if Dean could manage to pick the locks - were their times when they could just relax and feel a little separate from the world. At the moment, it looked like it was just going to be Sam doing that this lunchtime. It had only happened twice before, when the headteacher had busted him for using his cell phone in class, and when he was making out with Jackie Pullman in the janitor's closet. It seemed unlikely that either would be the reason why Dean was missing though. At the end of lunch, Sam put his water bottle in the bin, and walked to his third-to-last lesson.