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Glad you all enjoy!


Chapter 3 - Beating

"Mom!" Sam begged, twisting away from the officer to see his mother again. "Please!"

His mother stood with his father, stoic and calm. "I'm sorry, Samuel." She said coldly.

Sam's heart lurched when she said his name. She only called him Samuel when he was bad. When he got himself in trouble.

"Please, Mom! Don't let them take me!" Sam cried, as the officer grabbed Sam around the waist, and resumed pulling him to the door.

"You'll see, Samuel. This is what's best for you." His father promised, his voice uncaring.

"Please, Mom, Dad! I don't want to go." Sam sobbed, still fighting to reach his parents.

"Go, Sam. Just go." His father snapped. "You don't belong with us anymore."

"Mom!" Sam cried, reaching out for her. Still fighting to get back to her.

She shook her head sadly. "No, Samuel. We don't want you here."

Sam stopped fighting.


Dean rolled over, his eyes opening into slits. Something was off. Something had woken him up. But what? His first concern was his father. Had something gone wrong on a hunt?

No, his father was here, at least for the time being. He was safe. So what was the problem?

Dean sat up slowly, peering around his room. Sam slept on the other side, on Dean's bed. Sam had offered to take the air mattress, but Dean wouldn't hear it.

Then he heard a sound. Small, and unfamiliar. And yet he knew what it was coming from. Or, who it was coming from. Dean looked at Sam. In his sleep, Sam whimpered again. Immediately, Dean stood up and crossed the room. He sat down on the foot of his bed, taking hold of Sam's leg. He shook it lightly, inciting another moan from Sam.

"Mom…" Dean heard Sam whisper. His heart lurched.

"No...Daniel…." Sam trailed off.

Dean reached up, and touched Sam's shoulder. Suddenly, Sam shouted, and lurched away, slipping over the side of the bed. Dean reached out, and managed to catch Sam before he hit the ground. Sam's eyes flew open, and he jerked backwards when he saw Dean leaning over him.

Dean set Sam on the ground. "Sorry." He apologized. "I didn't mean to startle you."

Sam looked away. "'s fine." He mumbled. Sam stood up, and sat back down on the bed.

"I'll...let you sleep." Dean said awkwardly. He stood up sorely, and made his way back to his mattress.


Sam rolled onto his stomach, staring at the clock. 2:13 AM

He had been laying there, awake, for the past two hours. Since Dean had woken him up, he hadn't been able to fall asleep. That was normal, though. Usually he got somewhere between two to four hours of sleep a night. Tonight he had managed to get three.

It wasn't that he wasn't tired. He was. He was just tired of reliving that day, over and over. Every night, his brother crying, his parents shunning him, the officer dragging him away.

Of course, what followed was probably worse. After the officer had dragged him away, he was driven to a facility on the outskirts of the state. There, he had undergone different scans and tests. He had been given his tag, and told all the rules and laws. From here, he went to a Waiting Home. Where psychics went to wait for a hunter to take them in.

Sam knew he was lucky. He had been young when his powers had appeared. He was young, and cute, and vulnerable looking. People felt sorry for him. They wanted to help. One of his friends at the Waiting Home had compared him to a lost puppy.

Of course, they soon learned that he was more of a rabid dog than a lost puppy. Sam refused to give in to certain rules. Rules like in public restaurants, he had to be escorted to the bathrooms. If he went outside alone, he had to wear his tracker. He was not allowed to handle any weapons, even with an adult present.

The rules were so stupid. Like, just because he was a psychic, he automatically went psycho and tried to kill everyone within a two mile radius. It was like they thought he wasn't even human anymore, like he had no moral compass.

Sam sighed, and rolled again onto his back, staring up at the ceiling.

He could tell it was going to be a long night.


Mary held her cup of coffee close, warming her hands on the heated surface. She took a deep whiff of the steam rising from the liquid. Blowing lightly, she took a small sip.

"Morning." A low voice behind her rumbled. John's arms circled her waist, and he leaned in closer to kiss her cheek.

Mary smiled. "Morning." She said in reply. "Are the boys up yet?" She asked, slightly surprised at how the plural felt so normal on her tongue.

"No, I thought I'd let them sleep." John answered.

"So I get the joy of waking them up?" Mary joked. "What an honor."

John smiled, and took a step back, picking up his briefcase. "I'm going to meet a few hunters outside of town. I should be back by dinner."

"Sure," Mary agreed. She leaned in to kiss him deeply, closing her eyes.

She felt the hair on the back of her neck stand up, and she broke away from the kiss, looking to the hallway. "Sam." She breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of him. John smiled at her, and grabbed his briefcase as he made his way out.

"See ya, Sam." He nodded to the teen as the left. Sam's brow furrowed in confusion, then went blank.

"Do you want some breakfast, Sweetie?" Mary asked gently. Sam nodded, and crossed the room to the cabinets. Silently, he searched through the cupboards until he found what he was looking for. A bowl. He started reaching for the cereal box, but froze, looking at Mary.

"May-may I have some cereal?" He asked quietly.

Mary's heart clenched in sympathy for Sam. "Of course, Sam." She assured him.

Sam grabbed the bowl and filled it halfway, pouring some milk in and walking over to the table. Mary smiled and found a spoon for him. She walked over to the table. "Forgetting something?" She asked, handing him the utensil.

Sam flinched when she spoke, and kept his eyes on the table. He accepted the spoon. "Thank you." He said.

Mary smiled gently, and stepped back. He really was a nice boy.


Dean woke up at noon, to his mother flicking the light on and off. He groaned, covering his face with his pillow.

"Dean, Sam's getting bored down there, all alone." Mary stated. "Can't you go entertain him for a few hours?"

Dean sat up slowly. "What am I, a babysitter?" He grumbled. Mary crooked her eyebrows, but smiled. Dean didn't mean it.

Dean made his way downstairs slowly, yawning all the way. When he entered the kitchen, he saw Sam sitting on the couch, tossing the baseball to himself, the glove on the seat next to him. Dean smiled halfway.

Sam glanced up and saw Dean standing in the doorway. His eyes lit up, and his mouth turned up slightly in a smile. Wordlessly, he tossed the ball over to Dean. Dean caught it, and nodded towards the front door.

Sam jumped up from the couch, and ran towards the door, dodging Mary as he went. Mary turned to Dean with a smile, pleasantly surprised.

"Going outside?" She asked.

Dean nodded. "Yep," He laughed, watching Sam hurry out the door. "We'll probably be out there a while."

"Come inside when you want lunch, okay?" Mary said with a laugh. "If it starts to get hot, put on sunscreen!" She called as Dean followed Sam out the door.


Sam lunged to the side to reach a fly ball. He shouted triumphantly when the ball landed soundly in his glove.

"Nice catch." Dean complimented. "Maybe we can break out the football after lunch."

Sam shrugged, a modest smile shining on his face. "Whatever." He agreed good-naturedly.

Dean looked back at the house. "I can go up and get some snacks, if you want."

Sam nodded. "Sure,"

Dean smiled, and headed up to the house. "I'll be back out in a minute."

Dean had sometimes wondered about having siblings. What it would be like to have to watch out for someone, and teach them the ways of life. He had dismissed the idea, with visions of annoying little brats, screaming and running in circles. Now, though, he liked the idea. He liked Sam.

He liked being an older brother.


Sam shifted uncomfortably on the yard when Dean entered the house. Technically, he wasn't allowed to be outside alone without his tracker being activated. But maybe, because Dean was going to be right back, it wouldn't matter.

Sam took a calming breath, and shielded his eyes against the rising sun. A sound down the street startled him, and he jumped, glancing around for the noise.

A few houses away, a group of kids were walking, laughing and shouting amongst themselves. Sam felt a familiar pang of bitterness as he watched them, fully aware of how different he was from them. He would never have that freedom, to walk freely with friends, untracked and untagged. He was doomed to spend the rest of his life collared like some common animal.

Suddenly, Sam became aware of a voice shouting louder than the others. "Hey! Who're you?" A boy at the front stopped next to the Winchester's mailbox, and was facing Sam's direction. Sam felt a stab of fear in his heart. Was this kid talking to him?

The boy stepped forward in a confident swagger, looking Sam up and down. He was small, but obviously in charge of the posse of boys surrounding him. Altogether, there was maybe seven, and the first boy was the most physically undaunting. However, he had an air of leadership about him.

"Hey!" The boy repeated, walking closer. Sam's heart thudded heavily in his chest, and he stumbled back a few steps. He felt like his tag was shining brighter than it ever had before, glowing in the late morning sun.

The small metal piece glinted in the sunlight, and it caught the leader's eye. The boy blinked for a second, and his eyes zeroed in on the tag, his eyes widening and then narrowing in turn. He glared up at Sam.

"A psychic, huh?" He said, his voice taut.

Sam glanced back at the house. Where was Dean? He turned back to the group to see that the rest of the group had recollected behind their leader, and were all glaring at him.

"You know, I'm pretty sure that psychics aren't allowed to be outside by themselves. Have to babysitted, like un-housebroken puppies." The leader taunted.

Sam felt anger flare through his veins, and adrenaline made his heartbeat rush in his ears. He tried to calm himself. When he got out of control was when the bad things happened. These were the reasons that his Carers got rid of him. He couldn't be controlled. He couldn't even control himself.

"Maybe we should teach you a lesson." The leader threatened. Sam narrowed his eyes, but didn't move. He knew he could handle himself in a fight. The question was, was it worth it?

"I'd like to see you try." Sam shot back, the words forcing themselves out of his mouth before he could stop them.

The leader grinned, like Sam had just delivered Christmas early. Slowly, he started moving forward, his group following close behind.

These guys have seen one too many gang movies. Sam thought grimly.

Suddenly, a large boy lunged at Sam, throwing a fist towards his head. Sam dodged underneath, and jabbed an elbow into the boy's face, making him fall. He felt a blow to his back, making him grunt. Sam swung a leg out behind him, tripping whoever had hit him. He felt someone grab his shoulders, and he tried to break their grip by spinning, but only ended up sprawled on his back.

Not good. Sam thought, before he felt the blows start landing all over his body. He brought his hands up to his head to protect his face, and didn't attempt to get up. He could only hope that they stopped soon.

"You're a freak." The leader hissed as he slammed a fist into Sam's side. "A disgusting, horrible, freak."

Sam prayed that Dean would come soon.


"Have you two been playing catch this whole time?" Mary questioned as she got the plateful of food ready. Dean had told her that they wanted some snacks, and she had insisted that she make them a picnic lunch.

Dean glanced back nervously at the door. He had only meant to step in for a minute, and a bad feeling was creeping up his spine, like some kind of chill seeping into his bones.

"Pretty much. Sam really likes it." Dean commented absently, still peering at the door.

"I'm glad that you two seem to be getting along. It's important that he have someone around his age…" His mother kept talking, but Dean felt a flash of panic. He started for the door, his mother calling behind him.

Dean yanked the door open, and his blood ran cold. A small crowd of boys was gathered near the edge of his yard, surrounding something. Or someone. A quick glance around the front yard affirmed what Dean had suspected. Sam was nowhere to be seen. So he had either run, or was in the middle of that crowd.

Dean stared for a minute, and then a cry broke him out of his stupor. Sam's cry. A sudden burst of energy radiated from the center of the group, sending some of the boys reeling. Sam.

Red flashed in front of Dean's eyes, and all he could focus on was the blinding rage and anger that he felt.

His feet pounded across the hard cement, and he reached the boys sooner than expected. Dean roared as he neared them, and some of them looked up in alarm when they heard him. The smart ones scrambled to get away when Dean neared, sprinting in all directions as fast as they could. The tough ones lifted their hands to face him, only to get smashed to the ground one by one, like dominos.

Dean snapped out a leg, cracking someone in the stomach. The kid curled up in the fetal position, groaning in pain. He lifted another to his feet, only to toss him a few feet away. The last one stood up painfully, throwing a weak punch towards his face. Dean blocked it with ease, extending his own fist and bashing the boy in the throat. The boy collapsed to the ground, coughing and retching.

Dean looked at the last boy standing frozen. This one, he knew.

"TJ," Dean spit. TJ stood, fear freezing his face into place.

"H-hey, man, we're cool, right? We were just doing you a favor. Y-you're little freak here was trying to escape-" He was cut off by a sharp blow to his jaw. TJ sat there stunned, while Dean stood over him, anger coming off of him in waves.

"Do yourself a favor, TJ." Dean snarled. "Get out of here."

TJ scrambled up off of the ground, and starting running from the yard, glancing behind him as he went.

"You'll regret this, Winchester!" He shouted.

"Doubt it." Dean muttered. He leaned down next to Sam, who lay still, his eyes closed.

"Sammy." Dean placed a hand on Sam's shoulder, and Sam jerked awake, gasping in pain. His face scrunched up, and he clutched Dean's sleeve.

"Hey, hey," Dean soothed, gently pressing him back against the ground. "Take it easy. You just took a pretty bad beating there, kid."

As Sam stared up at him, Dean was surprised to see tears well in the younger boy's eyes.

"Sammy?" Dean hovered over him, looking for a particularly bad injury that could be hurting Sam.

"De'." Sam rasped, a split lip preventing him from pronouncing his name right.

"Yeah, Sammy?" Dean said gently, still probing his body for broken bones.

"Please don't send me 'way." Sam slurred, a tear slipping down his face.

Dean paused in shock, turning his full attention to a distraught Sam. "What do you mean, Sammy? Why would we send you away?"

"Used my powers...hurt a kid…" Sam trailed off, hiccupping slightly.

Dean recalled the strange burst of energy that he had seen. He had assumed that had been Sam; now he was positive. He felt sick when he thought about it. Would Mr. Pearson take Sam away because of the incident?

"It's okay, Sam." Dean reassured him, brushing Sam's bangs out of his face. Sam let out a pained groan. "Everything's going to be okay."


Oh my gosh, I am sooo sorry about it being late. I think this is the first time that a chapter has come later than I promised. *sigh* well, I guess it had to happen sometime. Hopefully the quality will make up for the long wait. : /

REVIEW! I'd love to know what you think of how I am doing with their personalities.