Now, not all of the stories in the 'Verse will be directly connected with this one.. But most of them will be tied in, somehow..
A/N:.. On a side note.. Sam and Dean will both be a little OOC (Out Of Character.) for just a little bit during this Chapter. But... Then they'll get back to themselves. Let's just say.. Things are gonna be 'slightly' "Chick-Flicky" for a lttle bit...
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Now that Sam had finally said the words. The words that acknowledged the gravity, the reality of what had happened to him. It was understandable that the kid would have a break down.
But Dean needed answers. Because.. While Dean knew that most anything could trigger someone that had been through something like THAT, and if anything could have triggered his brother. What Sam thought he had been seeing would have been it.. BUT.. Something was scratching at Dean's mind... Like how fresh. How new, the trauma seemed to Sam. When he knew for a fact that what happened to Sam hadn't happened less than seventeen years ago and no more than eighteen years ago, though, Dean was pretty certain that it had to have been during one of Sam's last times at the 'clown' themed restaurant, without Sam having to say it. Because that was the only thing that really made sense.
So, why, was Sam behaving as if it had just happened?
Admittedly. He didn't know much about how someone who had survived something so horrific responded to being triggered.
Could, this, actually be normal?
And even if it was.. Or wasn't.. How was he, going to be able to help Sam through this?
What should he do?
What should he say?
What would be the wrong thing to say?, What would be the wrong thing to do? (Because he really wanted to avoid, saying or doing the wrong thing... Well, he had an inkling that ever calling Sam 'Bitch' again should probably be off the table now, for.. Well, forever... And just how had Sam been able to hear himself being called that (By his own big brother, no less.) for YEARS, as a sign of affection (And boy, wasn't THAT, just all kinds of messed up?), without punching somebody?
The only way Dean was going to be able to figure out how to navigate this mine field was with Sam's help.
So.. First things first.
"Sam?" Dean kept his tone calm. Reassuring. He made sure to let Sam know, that this was his 'big brother' talking and not any of the many other fractured shards that made up one, whole, 'Dean Winchester'. "What brought this on?.. I mean besides what you thought you were seeing. Because I know, I know that it wasn't just what you were thinking, you were seeing, that made you lash out like that."
"I sort of didn't really remember.."
"Sam."
"No, I swear. It's like.. I could sort of remember. Like I knew it had happened. But the memory was vague. Like it was.. I don't know.. Repressed?.. Buried under a haze?" Sam gave a weary sigh "I swear. I swear. That, it wasn't till I saw that clown with that little boy that the memory of it all, just hit me full force, from out of nowhere. I swear."
"It's okay, Sam. I believe you."
Sam huffed out a breath and then stammered out "And it's not the only memory to just, hit me, like that... There's been other things.. Things that just keep filtering in. And alot of it's still so distorted that even I don't know what it is I'm.."
"Whoa.. When did this all start?"
"Uh.. Remember when we were in Colorado looking for Metatron and I kept rambling about a trip to 'The Grand Canyon' that I should have been too young to possibly still remember it?"
"Seriously?"
"Dean. I swear I didn't know..."
"Sam... It's okay." Dean blew out a puff of breath making a 'Puhoo' sound. Because technically. It wasn't okay. No. It wasn't Sam's fault. But that didn't mean that this new development could really be "okay".. Because.. What if?.. What if , the still repressed memories of Sam's time in The Cage came flooding back?
Dean didn't know alot about the human brain. But he did know that the human brain could retain only so much information, could retain only so many thoughts, only so many memories, all at once, without overloading. And Dean didn't know what would happen if a person's brain became overloaded, by say.. Almost two hundred years in Lucifer's dog bowl.. But he was pretty sure, that it couldn't (That it most likely, definitely ,WOULDN'T.) be good..
"Soo.." Dean ventured tentatively "Are there any other, memories that have suddenly?.."
"Nothing that's really, very clear.. Yet."
"So, do'ya. Wanna tell me about what you do remember?.. I mean.. How did you get away from them?"
"Dean.. I know we said no more secrets. But can you just let this?.."
"Oh, no. Hell, no. Sam. I am not gonna, just let it go. Not something, like this."
"I really don't think you wanna hear this."
"Sam."
"Okay.. But first.. You gotta promise me two things."
"I already promised that I wouldn't be mad at you Sam."
"Yeah.. Well, you gotta promise me, that you won't blame yourself. No matter what."
"O...Kayyyy. I.. Ppprrrommissse." Dean grit his teeth through the lie, because how could he NOT blame himself?.. He was the one who had left Sam at that place.. And why did he have the ominous feeling that there was more to it, than just that?.. Right.. Because he was a frickin Winchester. And there's always more to everything. And that's hardly, ever, a good thing.
"And.." Sam heaved in a baited breath and let it go in a 'whoosh' and a rush of words "Youhavetopromisenottohatedad."
"Whoa!.. What?!.. What, did, DAD, have to do with what happened to you?!"
"He didn't have anything to do with what happened to me.. He just sort of had everything to do with most of the stuff that came next."
"What are you talking about, Sam? What, did, dad, do?"
"Damn it. I knew. I knew that telling you even just a little, would be a really bad idea."
"Sam."
"Promise. That you're not gonna hate him!"
"I.."
"Promise me Dean."
"Okay... Sam.. You know, I could never hate dad. Well, not for long at least. Why are you even?.."
"I just.. I need to know that.."
"That, what, Sam?"
"Well, he was your hero and..."
"Sam, that was a long time ago."
"But, I still don't want to be the one that ruins what's left of that."
And, damn, Sam was whipping out that kicked puppy look. Whatever happened between Sam and their dad, must have been pretty bad.
Welp, that did wonders for that sense of foreboading that Dean could feel coiling around his heart.
Absolute, wonders...
"Sam. I promise, I won't hate him."
Sam gave a shaky nod.
"Okay." Sam stated with determination. "When they were both, uh, done" Dean could tell this was akward for Sam to divulge. But it needed to be done. "They got up and walked to the back door of the room. It led to a back ally. They stood in the doorway, talking to each other..." Sam took a deep breath "Talking about what they were gonna do with me. With my body, after I was dead and I could hear every single word.."
"Christ, Sam..."
"Please, just." Sam closed his eyes as if trying to root through the rubble of his demolished, memories "Just let me, get this out. While I can still remember.."
So, Sam, could, not only get back, old, repressed, memories at random, but he could lose those memories again, just as quickly?.. Well, wasn't that just, peachy?
"Kay, Sam. Okay. You. You, go ahead and talk."
Sam let out a weary sigh. "I could hear, every word of what they were saying. And I was terrified... My.. My jeans were down around my ankles. It hurt to move. But my cell phone was in the back pocket. I knew that if I could get to it. I could.."
Now, Sam was crying in earnest "That. If I could get to it. I could call for help... And there's only two people who I could think to call.."
Sam was right. Dean was pretty sure, that he did not, want to hear this part.
"I called, you, Dean.. And.. You were busy. With a girl and, so.. You hung up on me, before I could even say much of anything."
'You left me to die, for A GIRL?!' Dean could hear himself screaming at his brother as the Spectre forced him to point a loaded gun towards Sam... Talk about a humongous screw up. God, how could Sam even bear to be around him after that crap?!
"Sam, I'm.."
"You, promised not to blame yourself. It wasn't your fault, Dean. You were a seventeen year old kid."
"Yeah. Apparently. I was a stupid, seventeen year old kid." Dean muttered.
"Dean."
"You're right. Sammy. I'm sorry."
"It's Sam."
Dean gave a shrug and half of a sideways nod. Because. Sam would always be 'Sammy' to him. But it was better to relent on a few things, just for now, so that Sam could get everything off his chest, unimpeded.
Sam just shook his head like he was second thinking this whole thing.
"Talk, to me, kiddo."
"I'm not a little kid!" Sam snapped angrily. "So, will you please, just stop with the 'kiddo' and the 'Sammy'? I am not some chubby little twelve year old that's got adorable rolls of baby fat anymore! And I don't want to be talked to like I'm, that kid anymore. I haven't been that kid for a really, long time! That boy, died! All right! He died pinned under two ugly, sweaty, cowards dressed like clowns!"
"Sam?" Now, Dean didn't know what to do. He had a feeling that there was a lot more to this, than what those bastards did to Sam when he was stil just a kid. "Sam. I'm sorry."
Sam turned his back to Dean. His shoulders slumped. The kid looked so defeated. And, yeah.. Dean couldn't help but think of Sammy as a kid, 'kiddo' and "Sammy", but what Sam didn't get, was that it wasn't because Dean didn't see the grown man. No. Dean saw him just fine and he was damn proud of the man his brother had grown to be. But.. What it WAS about, was the fact that, whether Sam wanted to acknowledge it or not HE, had raised Sammy, not their dad. And Dean just couldn't shake that feeling of parental entitlement of being able to call HIS KID, 'kiddo' and 'Sammy'.. But he also had the parental instinct to want Sam to be happy and HIS KID, did not look happy.
"I am sorry, really, sorry, Sam. You're right. You're not that twelve year old little kid anymore."
"I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have yelled at you like that... It's just, It's because.."
"Because you were still just twelve when it happened. Right?"
"Yeah. The sons of bitches, just barely missed my thirteenth birthday by three hours." Sam stated sounding close to becoming despondant.
"Holy crap, Sam.. Sam, that's..."
"Yeah. It was really horrible."
"How?.. How did you get away?"
Sam replied with nothing more than a disgruntled snort. Then, finall, his gaze softened slightly. "It's not, just because I was still only twelve." He stated sounding still so unsure. "The.. The whole 'Sammy' thing."
"What are you talking about now?"
"Well, we did say, no more secrets... And. Since I can remember. I just.. I didn't wanna keep anything from you."
Now, Dean really did feel like a mountain of douchebags.
If only Sam knew the secret his big brother was keeping hidden, right under Sam's nose. Within, Sam's own body. Without Sam's full knowledge of what his consent had cost him.
Oh, god.. What was he gonna do when Sam found out?
Dean tried to breath around the lump in his throat and nodded for Sam to tell him.
"They.. Uh, they knew my name was Sam. I guess one of the other kids must've told 'em, and the entire time, the were either calling me, 'Sammy' or talking about how they liked that I still had some baby fat. They kept cooing at me that I was such a cute, chubby baby and all kinds of really sick crap."
Now Dean felt sick. All this time.. And Sam had, had to put up with constant reminders of what those bastards had done to him.. Everytime someone called him "Sammy"..
"Man. Why the hell didn't you just knock me on my ass when I kept calling you.. Eh.. that name, even after?.."
"You were the only one who I could stand to have call me that. One, because you didn't know.. And, Two, I'd miss it if you stopped completely, because at least I know why you always called me that. And I don't want you to stop calling me 'Sammy' or even 'kiddo' at least not completely. I just can't, talk about this, not while you keep calling me those things. Because right now. I can't let myself feel like that boy, Dean. I can't let myself be the little kid they took into that room anymore. I can't let myself be that ever again. But after. After, I tell you.. Maybe, after a few days. I can let myself be the kid who doesn't mind it so much when you, and only you, calls him 'Sammy or 'Kiddo'."
"Well, that wasn't chick-flicky in the slightest." Dean was trying to interject some levity into this heavily weighted darkness he and his brother seemed to be trapped in.
"Shut up, Jerk."
"Bite me, Be-ah, ah..." (Ooops.)
"It's okay. Dean."
"You mean they didn't?.. You know?..."
"THEY, didn't.. No.. Oddly enough. Neither of THEM, called me a 'Bitch'.. Not even once."
"But.. Someone, DID?.. Right?"
"How about we stick to one thing at a time?"
"Fair enough. But we will talk about whatever it is."
"How about we give a couple of days? I mean, I'm having enough problems, sifting through all of the pieces without having to pick through even more to figure out what repressed memories are supposed to fit where."
"Yeah. That's good." Dean gave a chuckle.
"What?"
"I was just thinkin.. Look at us, Sam. We are totally rockin this whole honesty thing." (And now, Dean wanted to kick himself. Talk about a great way to keep reminding himself, of what a lying, hypocritical, jackass he was.)
"Yeah." Sam returned the laugh. "I guess we are."
"So, you feelin any better?" Dean asked "Think you can, get over the last hurddle and talk about how you got away and what DAD has to do with what happened afterward?"
And, damn if Dean didn't know that he was seeing straight through all of Sam's delay tactics. And just like his little brother. Dean could be stubborn. He could not be distracted so easily from trying to find out, just how Sam managed to escape those bastards or what their dad had to do with whatever happened to Sam after that.
Sam gave a sigh. He knew it was inevitable. Dean would not let this go. He would not let this rest. And he wouldn't let his little brother distract him from what he wanted to know.
"After, you.. Eh.."
"Hung up on you?"
"Please don't make it sound so.. Just.. Ugh! You were seventeen, Dean! What could you have done?.. If anybody's to blame for that.. Well, I'm the moron who had a cell phone in his hand and couldn't figure out how to dial nine-one-one!"
"Sam. It's not your fault either. You know that, right?"
Sam stifled a sob as he nodded "After.. After the phone call. I struggled to get my pants pulled up, but I manged to do it somehow. And I was trying to get out of the room, when one of them came back in. He got me pinned back down on the floor. And he was taunting me. Then.. He pulled out a pocket knife and started talking about how he was gonna carve me up all nice and pretty. He got the tip of the knife right against my cheekbone.. I thought he was just.. Gonna stab me in the face and that would be that. I would be dead. And it scared the living hell outta me. Because I didn't wanna die like that. I didn't wanna die, pinned under some sick, smelly bastard. I didn't wanna die. I didn't wanna die, Dean."
Dean now understood, where this was going. A fully grown man who had probably outweighed the twelve year old Sam by at least a hundred pounds, pinning the kid to the floor, with a knife in his face. It had been either Sam or that man.. And since Sam was somehow standing here.. Well, Dean could put two and two together.
"How'd it happen?" Dean asked.
"Honestly. I really don't remember anything much other than feaking out and the next thing I knew.. The knife was sticking out of his stomach."
"So, wait.. You didn't kill him?"
"I couldn't really think past getting away, Dean, I swear. I just wanted to get away from both of them."
Now, Dean understood, Sam was afraid that his big brother would be dissappointed in him for not having gone for a lethal strike.
"Hey." Dean whispered. "You got away. That's what's important."
Sam took a deep calming breath and continued "After I stabbed him. He fell to the side, clutching his stomach. And. I got up and ran, as fast as I could, until I was back where there were other people. But I didn't know what to do. I just wanted to.. To.. I wanted to go home. I wanted to forget it ever happened. But it hurt. I was still hurting and I didn't know why. I didn't know stuff could be.. Torn, down there. I just knew that it hurt. It hurt so bad."
"Sam. It's okay." They were still sitting next to one another in the Impala's front seat. But the distance between them had never seemed as large as it was right then as Dean tried to figure out if he should physically reach out and put a comforting hand on Sam's shoulder, or if he should say something more, or if he should just stay still, stay quiet now and let Sam work through this with his big brother sitting by to provide 'silent' but sturdy support and let Sam be the one to come to him.
What was the right thing to do in a situation like this?
Should he have said anything at all?
Sam was trembling now as he drew in a shaky breath. "I just felt. Tired. And confused. Scared. And, maybe, I was suddenly angry about alot of stuff, but mostly, just my life in general as I started actually realizing what it was that they did to me... And the longer I waited for you to come pick me up from that place. The angrier and the more afraid I became."
'Who wouldn't be scared and angry after something like that?' Dean wondered as he nodded in understanding.
"When you pulled up outside the restaurant. I felt so relived. Because you were there. And that meant it was really over. That I was safe."
Dean felt a piece of his soul break. He had forgotten just how much trust Sam had used to put in him.. And when had all that changed, exactly?
'Probably when you hung up on him in favor of makin out with some bimbo.' Dean, mentally growled at himself.
But he gave a tight nod and tried not show how guilty he was feeling, because.. He had promised Sam not to blame himself, right?.. Which meant that he had to covertly cover up, just how much he was blaming himself, so that Sam would never know. "So, what happened then?" He asked, trying not to choke on not only his guilt of what he had unknowingly done to Sam back then. But on the guilt of all the blantant lies he had been telling Sam ever since their "No, secrets." pact with one another.
God, how much more pear shaped could this whole thing get?
"When I started getting in the car. I realized. It was gonna be really difficult to sit down."
"Oh, god." Dean whispered in horror as it dawned on him just how much pain Sam, had, had to have been in back then.
Sam continued as if he hadn't heard Dean "But, I didn't want you to know. I didn't want you to know anything about it, ever... So, I forced myself to breath through it and I tried not to let on that anything was wrong." Sam gave a humorless chuckle. "Guess I did a pretty good job." His whisper was almost inaudiable, but Dean still heard him.
"When we got back to the hotel room. Dad's truck was in the parking lot. He had finally come back after being gone on us for almost a whole month... And. I don't know why. Or where it all came from. But I was suddenly angry at HIM and I did want him to know, because I wanted him to understand that when he was out saving people and hunting monsters, he was leaving the two people who should have been the most important people in his life, alone, he was leaving them both, vulnerable. Like their lives weren't even on the list of those 'people' he cared about saving."
"Sam." Dean whispered as placed a hand on Sam's shoulder.. And if Sam lost it and cried harder or even if he lashed out and hit him, Dean would sit there and take whatever came next, but he wasn't gonna let Sam keep going through this without a reminder, that his big brother was there, and that it was okay. Because Sam's anger towards their dad, was not unjustified and Sam needed to understand that and know that his big brother understood that too... But, man.. This opened up a whole new can of worms as Dean realized the impact of what Sam had felt back then, had, had on what had became the rest of Sam's life up until now.
"I was so mad at him Dean." Sam cried.
"Did you tell him what happened?" Dean really wanted to know. Because he prayed that if Sam had told their dad, that their dad, had, had the good sense to hunt the two bastards down and make their deaths as painful as possible for what they had done to Sam.
"Can, I?.." Sam puffed out a breath "This next part.. It's really... It's bad, Dean."
"What happened?"
"Dad was back." Sam huffed. "He was hungry. So he sent you out to grab him something from the all night truck stop diner down the road from the hotel. Which meant.. I was alone with him.. And.. I was chickening out on telling him. But. I knew that I had to. And not for me either. Suddenly. I realized that they might hurt some other little kid and dad.. Well, he was a grown up and that meant he'd know the right thing to do.."
Dean took note of the way Sam was quaking as the horrible memories washed over him. Dean could now see a twelve year old little boy, huddled in on himself, shivering with fear and it hurt to see his brother so fragile.
"I needed him to listen to me, Dean." Sam sobbed out. "The one time I needed him to be a father.." Sam let out a shaky breath as the tremors that wracked his body grew in intensity. But now Dean could see the barely contained rage, that was coursing through Sam.
"What happened, Sam?"
"I told him, that I needed to tell him something. And he told me, that it had to wait. Because he was busy. But I needed to tell him right then. I knew it couldn't wait. So I told him again, that I REALLY, needed to tell him something. He got anoyed with me and told me my 'drama' could wait.. So.. I yelled at him.. I screamed.. "I need you to listen to me!".. And he.. He stormed towards me and shoved me up against the wall. He was drunk, I could smell the booze. I should have known he'd be drunk. It was so close to my birthday. He was always drunk on my birthday. I should have known better than to yell at him.. Especially when he was drunk."
Sam sounded like he was ready to hyperventilate with how fast his breath hitched between his sobbed out words.
"Sam?" Now Dean was really worried as he watched Sam slipping into the memories.
"For a second. I wasn't even seeing him. I was seeing them." Sam whispered. "Dad had me pinned against the wall and I was seeing the clown that was gonna kill me, instead. Then, he.. Slapped me, right across the face and yelled at me that my 'drama' didn't matter when people where out there getting ripped to shreads by monsters. When he let me go, I remember feeling so numb, when I looked him right in the eye and said that sometimes people are monsters too.. The next thing I knew I was running to the bathroom crying my eyes out and I didn't come out until you came back from the diner with dad's food."
"Oh my god, Sam.. Dad, hit you?"
Sam sniffled, then nodded. "Not long after that.. I think it was about two days after my birthday. Dad found another hunt and hit the road, leaving you in charge again. He had been gone about four hours when you announced, you would be dropping me back off at Plucky's again later on that day so you could go out.."
"Sam." Dean shook his head "Why, didn't you say something?"
"Because I was scared that you'd.."
"Sam."
"Think about it, Dean... Really think about it. If I had told you.. One.. You would've instantly blamed yourself, when none of it was your fault. Two.. You would've probably went after those men and killed them and Three.. You would've hated dad.. And that would have eventually made you hate me too.."
"Whoa.. Where the hell would you get an idea like that?!"
"Because you resented me Dean! Don't act like it's not true!.. I was the one robbing you of your childhood! I was the one ruining your life!.. If I had.."
"Whoa.. Ruining my life?!.. Sam.. What the hell?.. Why would you think something like that?!"
"Because you said so! Okay?!" Sam shouted but it wasn't anger that pushed the volume of his voice up that loud. It was grief. It was pain. Sam was telling the truth and even though Dean couldn't remember ever saying something like that to Sam, no matter how he sifted through his own memories, he had, apparently, said it.. And it had obviously hurt Sam in unimagineable ways.
Now Sam was really trembling as he lost what was left of his grip on the reins of his emotions. "Crap.." He hissed "Dean. I didn't mean.."
"When?" Dean asked numbly "When did I say that?"
"Please. Can we just forget I.."
"Not a chance in hell, Sam."
"It was back before you took me to the first Plucky's.. Dad... He had given you the keys to the Impala.. Taken you on a hunt where you got to take point for the first time.. You were on cloud nine for months.. But then.. Dad suddenly backed off taking you on hunts so much.. He kept going on hunt after hunt and leaving you to watch out for me, even though he kept promising that he'd take you 'next time'... And you started getting mad at me almost all the time..."
"You've really lost me. I don't remember any of this."
And now that Dean really thought about it.. He really didn't remember much about his angsty teenage years... Course.. His favorite 'medicinal' plant may have been partly responsible for some of the holes in his memory.. But he hadn't gotten high that often.. Had he?
And plus.. Wasn't pot supposed to make you mellow and laid back, not angry and mean?
"Forget it. It doesn't matter."
"The hell it doesn't?!" Dean growled.
"I overheard you tell one of your highschool friends that you hated being constantly stuck with babysitting me. That you were sick of missing out on your childhood. That.. That you.. You were sick of your kid brother ruining your life."
"When? When did that happen?"
"About three weeks before you took me to the first Plucky's.. The first time you left me there alone.. I was actually terrified that you weren't gonna come back." Sam sobbed.
And.. Wow... Now that Dean understood just what Sam had been carrying around with him back then, he could see why Sam hadn't said anything to him about what all three of those bastards had done to him.
Because.. Yeah.. He was counting his dad as one of the bastards who had hurt Sam.. Four bastards, actually.. When he counted himself. Because he had hurt Sam too.
But now.. There were even more unanswered questions.. Because, if he had planned to take Sam back to the same Plucky's where he had been raped, then what had happened next? How did Sam get through going back into that Hellhole?
"What did you do?.. How did you?.."
"The second you drove out of the restaurant's parking lot I doubled back to the hotel. I picked the lock on the door, took what money I could find and I hooved it to the bus station. After I made a few anonomous calls to the local P.D. and the F.B.I. about two child rapist masquerading as clowns down at Plucky's, I hopped the first bus out of town."
"Wait.. Is THAT how you ended up in Flagstaff?!"
Sam gave a solomn nod.
Now Dean had more questions that needed to be answered.. But the one on the tip of his tongue was.. "How could that possibly count as a 'Greatest Hit'?".. Weren't the memories they had traveled through in Heaven supposed to be good memories?
To be continued..
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A/N; I'm going back and fixing the mistakes in the first chapter now.. If there's any in this Chapter.. Please PM me and let me know.. Because it's kina hard to edit my writing with all these dang tears, blurring my vision...