Warnings for language and discussion of possible underage non-con, and coerced prostitution. This chapter is again very intense with disturbing images.

"Gluttony is an emotional escape, a sign something is eating us." - Peter De Vries

Chapter Two – Gluttony

"So, Sammy, shall we continue?"

"Why not? I've got time."

"So you have." The demon smiled slow and steady as he studied the younger Winchester, planning his next avenue of attack. He'd gotten the first taste of delicious pain wrenched from the boy over his tales of Dean's lust… but not enough… it was not nearly enough. The problem there was Sam knew about big brother's proclivities concerning sex. Like all sins, Dean's appetite for sex was a natural drive most young men enjoyed. Granted, Dean was more adventurous than his little brother, and had considerably more partners over the course of his life than most men his age, but considering the life they led and his amazing physique it was hardly too surprising, and in reality almost normal. Dean Winchester and normal in the same breath, now wasn't that a hoot? He'd tried to twist it, wrap it up in a perverse package, but little Sammy wasn't biting… Ah well; I have more where that came from.

"I'm waiting."

"So you are. Patience never was your strong suit. Was it, Sammy? You always wanted what you wanted when you wanted it. Not like Dean."

That comment got a slight stir from Sam. His eyebrows quirked and his eyes squinted in concentration. "What do you mean?"

"Just that Dean's always been used to doing without… being last in line. How many times did he give you the last of the Lucky Charms? How many times did he let you finish the last bit of ice cream while he went without?"

Sam shifted nervously. He'd never thought about it… not really. Thinking back, he could remember vague images of Dean scooping up ice cream and handing him the bowl and when Sam asked if he was going to eat any, he shook his head and said he wasn't hungry. How many times had he heard Dean say that growing up? I'm not hungry. How many times had he ever heard him say that now? Never. Sam gulped down a huge breath and stared at the demon. "Tell me more."

"Ol' John sure was a dedicated son of a bitch, wasn't he? I mean, he was always so focused on the hunt, barely had time for his two young sons." Leviathan drank in the familiar pain on Sam's face, lapping it up like the sweet confection it was. This was the truth… the truth as Sam always saw it and it was so easy to twist it into something tasty. So easy to manipulate Sam's fury when it came to the way their dad raised them. "You know he sometimes ran off on the hunt and the cupboards were almost bare. Sometimes he'd think to leave a few dollars, but not always. He had more important concerns than whether his sons had food to eat."

Sam stood up and started to pace, desperately trying to shake off the familiar feelings. Feelings he thought he had laid to rest when Dad died, the anger and resentment again bubbling to the surface as he faced the toll on his brother. Dean never held a grudge, never allowed himself any reproach concerning Dad. Always sacrificing his own needs and wants for the good of the family, for the benefit of his brother.

Sam didn't know why he felt this compulsion to defend his dad to this worthless piece of shit. No one would know; no one would even care, but he did. He just couldn't stand there and let this bastard malign his dad, especially after the sick lies he'd already told about Dad and Dean. Now that he was dead, Sam had finally reconciled with his dad's rage and consuming drive to find and kill the yellow-eyed demon that had destroyed their family, and he couldn't simply stand around and let this bastard lie any longer. The fury flew out of him like a drunken punch, hard and off-kilter, but passionately felt.

"You shut the hell up about my dad. You don't know the first thing about him. He loved us… he did his best." Sam felt better as soon as the words left his mouth. He felt a slight glimmer of recognition, as if Dean were speaking through him, and he held tight to that deep bond with his brother, like they were finally on the same side of the fence united in this fight.

The demon smiled. He saw the fractures the boy so desperately tried to hide spidering out, slow and sure… just a little bit longer… just a few more words… so close… so very close. "Yes, of course, my mistake. Daddy Winchester loved his boys… He even died for Dean, now… didn't he? No greater love than that, is there, Sammy?"

Sam winced as the knife twisted in his gut, slicing deeper and making a half-turn. No greater love than sacrificing yourself for another. Like father, like son. Dean… He steadied his heart as the tears welled in his eyes and he blinked them back, he couldn't let this bastard get to him, he had to be strong… he had to hear what he knew about Dean… that's all that mattered now. "We're not here to talk about Dad… tell me about Dean."

"Yes, of course, Dean. Let's talk about gluttony… you know, the opposite of abstinence. We already know how Dean feels about abstinence, now don't we? Not too high on the 'to do' list. Sex and drink… yes, you might say he is gluttonous about his sins… indulging in as much and as frequently as he can."

Sam sighed, again feigning boredom, "Old news… you got anything better or should I send you packing?"

"Now, now, Sammy… patience… or maybe we should delve into your sins? Huh? Or is that discussion better left to your brother?"

"I'm the one holding your very existence in my hands," Sam threatened as he thumped the leather volume against the palm of his hand. "I'd suggest you concentrate on me and what I want."

"Touché… well, where were we? Ah, yes… gluttony. Ever wonder why your big brother can never pass up an all-you-can-eat buffet? A free barbecue, even if it means one of those long, boring timeshare hard-sells? Or how about the hors d'oveuvrs at a funeral? Always stuffing his face with all the free food he can scrounge up."

Sam chuckled, a nervous smile on his face, "He's a growing boy. He gets hungry… What's your point?"

"He's like a starving animal… once you lead it to water it will gorge itself and die from bloat. Just keep eating and drinking until it bursts."

Sam snickered, "Yeah? Well I've never even seen Dean pop the top button on his jeans so I guess you're way off base there."

"Not really." The demon laughed, cold and cruel and so chilling that Sam actually shivered from three feet away. "You see, your brother may have a fast metabolism now, but one of these days he will go too far. One day soon it will all catch up with him. He can't stop the need… the hunger."

Sam withdrew back into himself and softly whispered, "What hunger?"

"You know, Sammy, that empty place deep inside he's trying to fill, that void from his childhood: all the memories of going to bed hungry because he gave the last of the food to his little brother, all the feelings of want and need that were never satisfied as a child, leaving him a vacant, empty, shell of a man trying desperately to feel whole and complete. But you know it's too late, don't you? It's eating him up inside. He'll never be able to fill that hole."

Sam winced from the image of his brother lost and empty. He felt certain truths peeking out from around the edges of the lies. This is what he wanted… needed to hear, but it didn't make it any easier to bear. There were still plenty of untruths in the demon's words and it was easier to attack those than face the harsh reality of the underlying truths. "We never went to bed hungry. You're lying again."

"No, Sammy, I'm not. You never went to bed hungry… Dean saw to that, but him… many nights he cried himself to sleep wondering where the next meal was going to come from.., what he was going to have to do to feed his kid brother."

"Do? What are you talking about?"

"Oops! You didn't know, did you? My bad."

"Know what?" Sam braced again for the pain, unsure now whether this was true or false… praying it was false, but the doubt had been placed in his mind… the lingering questions and he couldn't pull up the answers. He was so young and Dean always took care of things… maybe… NO! His imagination was already filling in the blanks and he couldn't even voice his conclusions. It has to be lies. "You're lying again."

"It's all right, Sammy. I know it's difficult to face. We don't have to discuss that. Dean would just as soon forget. Let's just focus on the gluttony, shall we? You do know Dean never passes up free food and you've got to admit he is a bit of a pig about it. Stuffing his face and wolfing down every morsel of food he can get his hands on. I mean, you eat a lot, but Dean… a bottomless pit. You've said so yourself on more than one occasion."

"So he likes to eat. Who doesn't?"

"That's what I'm saying, Sammy. It's a natural human instinct. The so-called seven deadly sins are not some abstract, unknown, foreign concept.., it's life… it's what you humans do… you partake of life… that's all it is." The demon's voice sounded so earnest, so sincere and rational, as if he were explaining the basic philosophy of some new age thinker. "You deserve that, don't you? Doesn't Dean? Especially after all he's been through."

The words echoed in Sam's head, bouncing against all reason or sense like the ball in a pinball machine. The noise in his head distracting as it poked and prodded him, digging deeper into the fog of his memories. He tried to forget them, shove them down with all the other lies and half-truths this bastard was spewing, but the images of fleeting moments when Dean looked so sad, so devastated, and Sam never knew why ate at him like a cancer, prickling his mind and making him doubt his own recollections of his childhood.

He was certain none of this happened… they always had food to eat. Dad was preoccupied, but he wasn't abusive. He took care of them… and when he couldn't because of a hunt or injury then Dean took care of things… Oh god, no! No… it never happened… not like that… it's all lies… Please, God, let it be lies. His hands were shaking as he gripped his knees. He needed to know… he needed to hear. Only then would he be able to tell for sure… only then.

"What you said about Dean, what did you mean? What did he have to do to feed me?"

Leviathan smiled, it's so easy… so very easy… "Dean always was too pretty for his own good. Even your dad said so.., once he found out."

Sam swallowed, his mouth dry like sandpaper and his gut clenched so tight he could feel it twisting inside out. He summoned all his courage and asked the question he never wanted to hear the answer to, "Found out?" Silence greeted him and he couldn't stand it, anything was better than the dead empty space where his mind had nothing to occupy its time except for visions of things he never wanted to see.., could never before even imagine. His voice rose in insistent anger, "Found out WHAT?"

Leviathan calmly sat staring at Sam, waiting until the boy was practically unhinged before gently whispering, so low Sam had to lean in to hear the words, had to strain to understand the pictures that came to life in his head. "Yes, Sammy, it did happen. Your brother sold his body for sixty bucks to buy you food. Cheap really, but he wasn't really in the trade and didn't know the going rate. He could have gotten much more in the right market… virgin boy and all… so sweet and innocent… so pretty. At thirteen he looked like a fine porcelain doll, soft and pure, untouched and so desirable… even then Dean was so very desirable. So Dean did what he had to do to bring home the bacon." The demon grinned, laughed and snorted like the sick pig he was. "You can't fault him for that, now, can you? He had to take care of his little brother, didn't he?"

Tears were burning in Sam's eyes. It's a lie… it's a lie… it has to be a lie. But God help him, he wasn't sure. Dean was always so willing to do anything for his family… for Sammy. In his heart he knew if his brother was forced to make a choice, there would be no choice. He knew Dean would have done anything for him. If circumstances demanded it… if Dean had no other option… backed into a corner… scared and alone… just a child… he would have done it… Sam was sure of that. And that thought hurt Sam as much as the fear that he might have actually done it. But Dad wouldn't have let it get to that point. Dad might have been a bastard on occasion, but he never would have let Dean descend to that low. It never happened… it's a lie. It has to be. Please, God, let it be a lie.

Sam repeated that mantra over and over in his head, trying to convince his broken heart. He remembered more glimpses of Dean looking so scared before he'd notice his kid brother's gaze and slap on a happy face. Sam never saw the patterns before, never believed what he didn't want to see. But Dean wasn't always in control, there were moments that whipped by so fast little Sammy never registered the meanings but now, looking back he could see more clearly. All the pain… all the sacrifice… all the torment Dean went through with no one to shield him. No big brother like Sam had, no protector other than a dad who loved them, but was missing in action for most of their youth.

Sam was physically shaking. How could Dean deal with all that? With all the responsibility and worry over Dad? And he knew he worried over Dad and Sammy. Worried and took on the responsibility of protecting them… of taking care of them… doing whatever needed to be done to accomplish that. Sam never worried because he had Dean and Dean made everything all right. Damn it all!

"So, Sammy, you want to hear the sordid details? How that disgusting sexual pervert laid his filthy hands all over your brother's body, teasing and caressing him, making him writhe beneath him? How Dean squirmed and cried out with these muffled, terror-filled whimpers, begging him to stop when the pain became unbearable? How his body betrayed him and actually came from the stimulation? And after it was all over, how he was filled with shame and doubt about himself? How he loathed himself for being weak and dirty? How he still looks back and knows that he's a slut and unworthy? That he deserved what happened to him… that he was asking for it."

Tears were streaming down Sam's face, his spirit shattered by the lost innocence of his brother, the agony piercing every memory he had of their childhood and inflicting new meanings upon them. All the sacrifices clear and right in his face, undeniable, but this… this never happened… it couldn't. Please God, no!

Leviathan smiled that victorious grin, his heart soaring with the grief filling the room and he couldn't resist twisting the knife just a tad more. His voice was sharp and cutting like shards of glass grating under heavy boots, gouging into the blood and guts of the human and bringing forth such delicious pain. He offered one last comment, delighting in the smell of defeat, "Your brother sacrificed it all for you and he hates you for it. He detests that you made him into a cheap whore. He hates you and he hates himself."

The words swept over Sam and he shuddered, his tense body finally finding the release he so desperately needed as he let out the breath he'd been holding. He silently offered God his heartfelt thanks as the roiling of his stomach eased. The emotional toll from all the doubts and worries had drained his energy, but what little strength he could muster drew his shoulders back and he stood tall. It was all lies.

Sam took a moment to just breathe, concentrating on the effort, a deep breath in and a ragged breath out, finding a tentative calm within the maelstrom he'd been thrust. It was a lie. He knew with certainty now. Dean might have done those things if left with no other option, but he hadn't because this worthless piece of trash had gone too far in his tale… Dean would never have resented Sam for this. Never. Dean could never hate his brother… Sam was sure of that. It was the only truth he had to hold onto now… the irrefutable fact that his brother loved him more than anything, more than his own virtue, more than his own wants and needs… more than his very life and soul. He walked over to the demon and threw a cauldron of holy water over his head, watching with satisfaction as the bloodcurdling scream reached the rafters.

With trembling hands Sam wiped the moisture from his tear-stained face and tried to regain his composure. His very essence quaked with the realization that Dean's childhood held terrors Sam had never before acknowledged. This might have been a lie, but there was still truth weaved within the silent pain and pressure Dean endured as the one responsible for holding his family together. A burden that should never have been placed on one so young. Sam finally found his center as the screaming in his head silenced. He turned and called forth all his strength before he calmly admonished the demon, his anger barely controlled, simmering just beneath the surface, his words tense and threatening, "Next time, a little restraint might get you somewhere."

Leviathan smirked, nodding his head slowly up and down in recognition. "It was the hating you part, right? Damn it! I knew that was pressing my luck, but what can I say?" He laughed as he talked, "I'm a sucker for the big finale. Good for you… you do know your brother."

"Yeah, I do. I think this little discussion is over." Sam took out the leather bound book and started to read the Latin phrases that would send this bastard back to Hell.

The demon twitched and the chair he was sitting in skidded across the floor from the powerful effects of the exorcism. "WAIT."

Sam stopped to observe the panicked expression on the demon's face. He was enjoying the last gasp of this evil son-of-a-bitch; payback was sweet and so richly deserved. This bastard had earned all the pain he could bring down upon him for telling those malicious lies about Dean. He turned his attention to the demon and offered up a scowl, "Why? You're a lying bastard. I'm not listening to any more of your sick lies. Sayonara."

TBC

Next chapter Wrath.