A/N: I don't really feel like I need to say anything for this chapter except please don't crucify me if my information isn't 100% correct.
Also, any Dean/Sam suggestive language or imagery was purely coincidental and not meant to be slashy.
That's all!
Sam sat at the table with Dean, searching the web for answers or anything that might possibly prove helpful. He was scrolling down the pages but Sam wasn't really reading anything. Every time he tried, his mind would begin to trail somewhere else and dark thoughts crept back into his head. He heard Dean sigh in mental exhaustion and then clear his throat.
"Hey, uhh… what do you say we take a break? I'm totally wiped, man."
Sam glanced up at his brother and searched his face. "Do you have something better to do than research? This is pretty important, don't you think, with people dying and everything?"
"I need a cold beverage of the alcoholic kind. Let's just go hit the bar and have a few while we try and mull this case over? We need to hit the pause button for a couple hours, Sammy," Dean continued to encourage him.
Sam ran a hand through his hair and then sat back in his chair before he took a drink of his water that was sitting on the table with them. He saw the frustration in his brother's eyes. "Go ahead. I'm going to stay here and continue researching this thing."
He looked at him with skepticism. "C'mon, you need a break too. We'll keep researching the case when we come back."
"No, when we come back, you'll be too drunk to even focus and you'll fall into one of the beds and pass out until morning. I'm your brother, Dean; I know how you operate."
"Well… then you should know better than to let me go alone," he smirked as he stood up and put his jacket up.
Sam turned his attention back to the screen and started to scroll again. "I know that if you don't have a DD, then you'll only have one or two and a water, and then drive home yourself. I also know that you don't trust cabs and you'd rather not drink a lot and then drive home yourself than take a cab, so I'm not that worried about you, Dean."
"Damn it!" Dean straightened out his jacket and grabbed his keys before he started towards the Impala, verifying his brother's accurate prediction about himself.
Sam didn't look up from the screen until he heard the sound of the car start up and pull out of the motel parking lot. Then he closed the laptop and rubbed his face with his hands.
You may be right about your brother's intentions but you'll never find out the demon for your case. You're too weak to even try, Sam. Your own brother knows how weak you are; that's why he needed to get away. He can't stand to see your own worthlessness, just like your father couldn't.
"Shut up! Shut the hell up!" Sam screamed, grabbing the glass and then throwing it against the kitchen area wall before he watched it shatter into tiny shards and spread out across the floor.
When he realized what he'd done, he felt his eyes fill up with fresh tears. He angrily rubbed them, trying to will them away back into his sockets but to no avail. Sam started pacing the kitchen now, cursing when he stepped on the broken shards but the pain felt fleeting, if not even welcome. He had felt so numb and angrily since they were at their father's and all the year of abuse built up inside of him. Sam felt a slew of emotions developing inside of him; sadness, anger, panic. He couldn't keep them all together along with the voices in his head. He wasn't even sure if he was really hearing them or if it was his own voice taunting himself.
Just then, he heard the ringtone belonging to John echo in the room. At first he thought John was calling Dean until he felt the vibrations in his own pocket. He hit the 'answer" button before daring to speak.
"You have a lot of nerve calling me after what you did to me all those years up to now," Sam hissed icily, his insides churning.
A cold laugh came on the other end. "You have a lot of nerve talking to your own father like that, boy. What the hell are you two doing up there?"
"We're doing our goddamned jobs! You know, what you raised us to do instead of being a normal father and playing catch with us? We're doing what we have to because innocent people are getting hurt and the other hunters aren't doing a damn thing to help them!"
Sam knew he would never talk like this to John face to face but somehow, a phone made the distance between them feel safer and gave him more courage.
"Sam, you have no idea what this thing is! You're wasting everyone's time!" John interjected now, his own anger laced in his voice.
"That's why we're doing research! Obviously you have no idea what it is either or else you wouldn't have called us! Oh wait," Sam laughed to himself without any humor, "did you call Dean first and try asking him before you called me?"
A short silence fell on the other line and then his father's harsh tone answered. "Of course I did. You're not as smart as Dean, and you'll never be as smart as him! You might have some college education under your belt but by God, Sam… I made sure that didn't last long, didn't I? With me is where you get the real education, son. Don't kid yourself…"
His father's criticizing made Sam shrink a bit, his courage beginning to deteriorate. He felt his chest tighten and tears fell from his eyes finally but more out of frustration and anger at himself than anything. "Well you sure raised me right, didn't you? You taught me where I stood and that was clearly not even in this family! You've always faired Dean over me! Always! Did you even want me or was I just another extra hunter for you and him?"
"You may be my blood but you have been nothing but a solid disappointment for me and Dean since day one, Sam. Think of all the times you've almost gotten him killed with your own stupidity and weakness! That's on you!" John yelled hatefully into the phone.
Sam overturned the chair in one swoop, knocking it to the floor and across the room so it slid across the broken glass. "Why did you even call here, Dad? Why? You must have gotten in touch with Dean! Why did you feel the need to call me and tell me what a horrible person I am?" He almost whimpered into the phone.
He swallowed back a sob that was tight in his throat. No, he wouldn't let his father know he was secretly crying. If he did, then John would never let him live it down until his dying day. He wiped his face on his shirt, as if trying to quickly hide the tears before his father saw him.
"I called because Dean told me to leave the two of you alone and that you were better off without me but I can already see that your naivety is going to get your brother killed and I can't afford to lose my best son," John replied, almost too casually.
Best son. Well that answered a lot of Sam's questions.
"Go to Hell, Dad. Just go fucking straight to Hell because I never want to hear from you again!" Sam angrily hung up and then threw the phone onto the couch, knowing it wouldn't cause any damage if it bounced off something soft.
Sam knew that he sounded childish and stupid but he felt so angry that he couldn't think straight. John had just verified all of Sam's thoughts since he was little. How insignificant he really was, how Dean was their father's favorite, not even trying to deny it. He paced the kitchen and cursed when he stepped on a shard of glass, cutting his skin. Sam was caught off balance from the pain that he was now only starting to feel and lost his footing, causing him to fall into the shattered small pieces of glass. He cried out in rage and pain and crawled over to the one of the corners that didn't have any pieces of glass nearby. He examined his wounds, watching the thin trails of blood move slowly out of his skin.
You deserve this. You deserve to feel all this pain.
"SHUT UP! SHUT UP!" Sam put his hands over his ears and shut his eyes tightly, beginning to wonder if maybe it really was Lucifer back in his head.
The front door suddenly opened and the next voice he heard was Dean as he saw the disheveled room. Sam felt his brother's hands on his shoulders and he winced slightly.
"Sammy! Sam, what the hell happened? Are you all right? Sam!"
He forced himself to open his eyes and looked up, letting Dean see his red puffy wet eyes and he helplessness that was written on his face. He finally now let the sob escape his throat.
"Sam… listen to me. It's okay, you're safe. Do you hear me?" Dean asked, calm in his voice. When he saw his brother nod, he continued. "Okay, good. I have to get the glass out of you now. We can't let it stay in there. I'm just going to go get a pair of tweezers but I promise I'll be right back, okay?"
Sam nodded again, unable to stop his sobs but wanting to let Dean know that he heard him. Sam didn't want his brother to see him so vulnerable and hurt, regardless of him having seen him like such multiple times. That had been different; the pain and vulnerability had been caused by demons and other creatures. It hadn't been self-inflicted.
Dean kept his promise and came back with a roll of bandage, antiseptic cream and a pair of tweezers. He knelt down in front of his brother and sighed but looked at him, eye level. "Okay, I'm going to start on your right side. I want you to squeeze my hand tightly if you feel any pain. Just try not to scream or anything."
Sam forced himself to speak now. "O-Okay…"
Dean gave him his whole arm and Sam grabbed it so he was lightly holding onto Dean's left forearm, leaving his right hand free to work. He grabbed the tweezers and began to dig the tiny shard out of his brother's skin. "Talk to me, Sammy. What happened? I leave you alone for half an hour and you wreck the place," he teased but tried to keep the seriousness in his voice.
Sam grimaced as soon as he felt the pain, gripping Dean's forearm tightly, unable to laugh at his brother's remark at the moment. "D-Dad… Dad called…"
Dean glanced up momentarily from his work and then shook his head before turning his attention back to the injury. "Yeah? What did he say? Couldn't been good from your reaction and all the broken glass…"
He was quiet for a long time, debating whether or not to tell Dean the truth. Instead he focused on the pain of his brother digging into his skin, clenching his jaw.
"Come on, Sam, what did he say? Was it about the case? Did he give any leads or anything? I know he's the biggest douchebag in the world but anything he said about the case could actually prove to be useful right now since we're coming up empty," Dean finally plucked the piece of glass out and set it aside on the floor before he started on a larger piece.
Sam put his head back and groaned in pain, half wondering if Dean was purposefully causing him pain to get an answer to his questions. "No! N-No… he didn't… h-he didn't give any leads. He j-just… gave me a lot of crap…"
Dean's eyes became semi curious and he quickly plucked out the larger shard before continuing on. "Because of our great escape? What exactly did he say?"
Sam gripped his brother's arm again to stop himself from screaming out from anger and pain now. He took a deep breath and let it out through his mouth slowly. "He said how useless I was, to you and him… he s-said… how I was going to g-get you killed and… h-OW! How I was just a b-burden to you…"
Dean grabbed the glass and set it aside again before he stopped what he was doing and looked at Sam with what he feared was disbelief in his older brother's eyes. "John? Our father, said that to you? That sounds like some shape shifter shit to me, Sam…"
It was what he had feared for years… Dean didn't believe him. Of course he didn't. John never treated Dean like he treated Sam. Why should this come as a surprise?
"N-No… Dean, please believe me… he t-told me those things! He did!" Sam looked away as more tears fell from his eyes. He finally looked back at his brother again, wanting him to see the desperation in his red eyes. "I swear… I swear on our mother, Dean… John's been saying those things to me since we were kids and he hasn't ever stopped saying them!"
Dean bit his lip and looked unsurely at Sam now. He ran a hand through his hair and then sighed softly before he looked straight into his eyes. "Why? Why would he think less of you than me? I-I'm trying to believe you, Sammy, but it just… doesn't make any sense to me."
Sam didn't know what to say. All he could do was look at Dean helplessly, more tears streaming down his face. How could he not believe his own flesh and blood? This was even worse than Sam had ever imagined telling Dean. He had expected his brother to believe him right away. Looking at Dean though, he could see in his eyes how badly he wanted to believe his younger brother. He knew what he had to do now and the thought of what he had to do next was almost too much for him to bear.
He swallowed hard before he let another sob escape him and he looked at Dean again. Slowly, he took a deep breath and then lifted his shirt up and over his head, revealing the multiple bruises John had given him just days ago, even the bruises on his neck that Dean hadn't seen before. The dark purple had disappeared but now it was more of a lavender color mixed with a pale yellow. Several scars also were visible in several places on Sam's chest and sides, obviously not done by a professional.
Dean leapt back at first sight, his eyes widened in fear. He took a shaky breath and stared at the bruises. "Jesus Christ, Sammy… h-he did that…?"
Sam nodded and then looked down at his hands. "Those were from a few days ago, but… he's been giving me bruises since he started teaching us how to hunt and started training us."
Dean shook his head but Sam knew that he believed his brother finally. The proof was written all over Sam's body. There was no more denying it. "Oh God… Sam… I-I don't even know what to say, man… I'm so sorry…"
Sam half shrugged but fresh tears came down and made trails down his face against his will. "I-I'm just so glad you believe me… y-you have… no idea how good it feels for me to finally be able to tell you, Dean. Every damn day he hurt me, I wanted to run to you and… I couldn't. H-He threatened to kill us both if I told anyone else, even you."
Dean had to look away now to hide his own tears. He sniffed once and rubbed his face before he then moved back in closer to Sam, eyeing the scars. "Please tell me he didn't do that and that those scars are just from hunting… please, Sammy…"
Sam felt a bit embarrassed now. He had split himself open to Dean and he felt like an attention seeker. He felt so pathetic, but he needed his only brother to believe him more than anything else in the world. Deep inside his heart, he knew he wasn't an attention seeker. After all, he had kept the secret from everyone until now for nearly 13 years.
"N-No… John did that too… it was from his knife, all the times he threatened me…"
"Oh Christ… no… Oh god…" Dean whimpered into his hands now, clearing his throat in a weak attempt to hide his own crying and sadness. He suddenly hit the floor with his fist. "Damn it! Why didn't I know about this? Why didn't I see what was happening?!"
Sam jumped slightly at Dean's sudden rage, not wanting to admit he saw a bit of their father in him. "H-He… he did it when you were at Bobby's or… with Mom. He did it when I was alone with him…"
Dean looked at his brother with sympathy in his matching eyes, and sorrow. Apology. "I-I just should've known this was going o-on! I can't believe this, man… I hate m-myself so much for not seeing what was happening…"
Sam shook his head and looked at Dean in concern. "No, Dean… don't be like that. I'm okay. I am, really. There's nothing you could've done anyway."
"No, Sammy… I could've killed that son-of-a-bitch. Don't tell me there's nothing I could've done because you and I both know that's not true. We could've gone to Bobby together and told him what John was doing to you. There's no way he wouldn't have believed us both, friend or not," Dean countered.
Sam sighed, chewing on his lip. Just looking at Dean he could see how broken up he was and knew that right now, he had to be the stronger one for once. "Come on, we need to get this cleaned up and go back to the case. Time's running out."
He honestly didn't know if time was really running out for them but it seemed like the right thing to say to Dean. It got the fire lit under his ass because it made him clear his throat and stand up before he began to pick up the shards of glass. While Dean did that, Sam put the antiseptic cream and bandages on his arm himself, just wanting to get off the topic of him and their father. He didn't want his brother to get sidetracked when there were people getting hurt. He put the first aid materials back into the bathroom and picked up the chair he had knocked over while talking to John and grabbed the laptop before he sat back down.
He watched as Dean placed a bottle of beer in front of Sam and sat down across from him. When he saw Sam's 'are-you-kidding-me' look, he just half shrugged and started to drink his. "Think of it as an apology for not being not believing you earlier."
Sam sighed and unscrewed the lid off of it before he began to take a long pull from it. He gave Dean a small smile that he returned. "Dean, don't think that this is your fault. Okay? We can't let what Dad did get in the way of what we have to do right now."
Dean nodded and ran a hand through his hair. "I know, Sammy. Now what the hell are we doing talking? We need to figure out what the hell's attacking these people…"
Sam smiled to himself, feeling a bit more relaxed about his brother as he went into hunter mode and took his laptop from him to do research. Sam leaned over and grabbed his shirt before he put it back on to avoid distraction. As he watched Dean throw out suggestions, he felt his anger subsiding but the sadness left remnants of itself inside him, like the glass shards that Dean had pulled out earlier. He knew he should feel relieved but he couldn't help but feel empty again. Sure, he had told Dean but it's not like the years of physical and verbal abuse just suddenly disappeared. Those things were still stuck in Sam's head and they were things he had to live with forever.
"The Gaap! It has to be!" Dean suddenly exclaimed, breaking Sam out of his thoughts.
Sam forced himself to focus back on the case himself now and took another pull of his beer before he looked curiously at Dean. "What's the Gaap? What does he do?"
Dean leaned in to read the information he had found. "'The Gaap is a mighty Prince and Great President of Hell. Gaap causes love and hate at will, make men insensible and ignorant…' blah blah blah…."
"Wait, so he can make people hate each other… insensible, ignorant… that explains what happened with that one woman we saw in the diner. Does it say what shape he takes?"
Dean scrolled down and then read again. "'Gaap specifically controls the element of water and reigns over the Water Elementals or the 'water demons'. Gaap takes human shape…' Do you think it's this Gaap that's causing the murders and domestic violence?"
Sam shrugged but a part of him felt hopeful, hopeful they had finally gotten an answer to the big question. "I don't know, Dean, but it's definitely possible. It would explain how he's been able to get into the victim. It might take human form after it's done but it has control of the water elements. If he somehow got into a pipeline and put the curse or whatever on the water, then the victim drank from it… he could ultimately possess that person until the damage is done. It makes sense…"
Dean looked relieved again and he closed the laptop to look at Sam. "Let's go back and talk to her husband. It's a small town; I'm sure we can find him. Maybe if we ask him the right question, we can get an idea how to find this Gaap."
Sam nodded and then stood up before both brothers disappeared to go get changed into suits.