Disclaimer: Would I be writing FANFICTION if I owned them....?
This story isn't going to be along one. I'm planning to have it be done in about 3-4 more chapters.
WARNING! Sexual abuse. NOT FOR THE SQEAMISH!!
BARACK OBAMA IS GOING TO BE OUR PRESIDENT FROM TODAY ONWARDS FOR AT LEAST FOUR YEARS!!!!! (I apologize to anyone not in support of Obama)
Enjoy chapter four!
Sam wasn't able to sleep. All he could think about were the beatings, the rapes, and Dean. Sam was starting to fade back, getting trapped in a time of fear and control. In his lucid moments, Sam concentrated on the life of hunting and his real father, hoping not to loose grip of reality again. But then... what if this was reality? What if his brother really was a fragment of his imagination? Sam shook his head. No. Something wants him to think that and he wasn't giving it any satisfaction. But then Sam's mind would remember the abuse again, and he would lose control.
---
John fingered his wad of money, smiling from ear to ear. When he finally looked at Sam, laying shaking and naked on the bed and looking up at him with pleading eyes, he scowled. "What do you want, whore!" He pulled Sam off the bed and kicked him in the back. Sam screamed and cried as his father came down with a rain of punches. "Why did I get stuck with you!?" John shouted furiously. "You killed Mary and now I'm stuck with a disgusting whore! And look!" He pulled Sam up and dragged him to the bed. "You dirtied my bed! Where the hell am I gonna sleep now!?" He flung Sam to the floor and retrieved his belt and started swinging. Sam cowered into a small ball as the stinging blows covered his body. When his father finally finished, Sam was nothing but a quivering, sobbing mess.
FLASH!
It was the thirteenth anniversary of Mary Winchester's death. John decided to bring Sam with him to the bar for once. Sam was only dressed in a baggy shirt that barely covered his ass. That was probably the point. All through the evening, Sam was groped and molested by random drunks and sober persons. And when John was at his most drunk, he pulled his son's shirt off and pushed him into an alley outside, where a group of people gang-raped Sam for the evening. No charge necessary.
Flash!
"Dean..." sixteen-year-old Sam begged, hanging from the handcuffs. "Save me, please... please, big brother...?" Sam softly cried. If anyone could save him, it'd be Dean. He abruptly stopped crying when Dean put a finger under his chin and lifted his head up. He smiled and ruffled Sam's hair comfortingly.
"Dean..?" Sam whimpered hopefully.
The door to the motel room burst open. Several police and paramedics poured into the room. Thinking his father wanted him to serve again tonight, tears started to call down his face and he whimpered and cowered back.
"Jesus..." one officer said.
"Get that kid down!" One of them walked up and carefully undid the cuffs. "Christ, he's only kid!"
Someone enveloped him in warm arms. When Sam looked up he smiled. "Thank you, Dean..."
The paramedics who had him now gave each other worried looks. Whose Dean?"
---
Jack, one of the nurses, came in with a tray of mush for Sam to eat. He pulled up a chair next to Sam and set the tray on the table next to him. "You ready for lunch, Sam?"
Sam continued to stare out into space, trapped in another cycle of abuse.
Jack smiled. "Comatose again, huh?" Jack sighed. "'Bout time. I've been inching for my next fix," he whispered. He leaned over and licked Sam's cheek. Sam cringed, but his eyes continued to stare into space. Jack gave a grunt of satisfaction. "Excellent..." He quickly pulled Sam's and his own pants down before climbing up on the bed. He started to touch Sam and moan in self-pleasure. He fingered Sam's hole, making sure it was stretched enough. Then, when he was ready, he slowly thrust himself in, gasping at the tight warmth. "Oh man, boy, you feel better than I remember!" Jack whispered breathlessly.
Sam whimpered at the sudden cold and disturbingly familiar touch. When something entered him, he gasped and started to sob. Dozens of different abusers flashing before his eyes, taking their pleasure from him, telling him he was a slut...
They're right. I am a slut. A diry whore... Suddenly, Sam's eyes started to focus as he came back to the hospital. "Wh-what...?"
"Shit!" Jack whispered. He quickly climbed off and pulled his pants back up, mentally trying to get himself to go soft.
Sam started to panic, fearing what the nurse might have been doing. "W-w-what were you...!?"
Jack slammed a hand over Sam's mouth, pulling Sam's pants back up in the process. "Don't tell anyone!" Jack warned in a low growl. "It's not like anyone's gonna believe a crazy like you anyway."
Tears spilled out from Sam's eyes as unadulterated fear seized Sam. Sam quickly nodded, the man in front of him scaring him a lot more than it should. God, is this all I'm good for...?
The doors to the room opened and Dr. Ackles and someone else waltzed in. "How's our patient this morning, Jack?" he asked distractedly as he looked as his clipboard.
Jack quickly removed his hand and said, "He's not eating, doctor."
"Is that so..." Dr. Ackles walked up to Sam's bed. He frowned at the tears and abject terror in the young man's eyes. "Sam, is something wrong?"
Sam's eyes flickered over to Jack for a moment, who glared at him in warning. But Sam didn't care. He was scared. That was all that mattered. "J-Jack..." Jack stiffened and looked at the doctor's back.
"What about him?" Dr. Ackles asked.
"H-he was t-t-touching me... w-w-wrong..."
"Jack?" the doctor question incredulously. "Nonsense, he's been your nurse for the last three years. He's a wonderful man. You must have been remembering what happened to you and got confused."
Sam shook his head as his fear increased tenfold. "Pl-lease! H-he..."
"Silence, Samuel!" the other man said. He pulled out a syringe and approached the young man.
"NO!" Sam screamed. "NO, I DON'T NEED THAT! PLEASE!"
Jack held Sam's head to keep him still and Sam could feel the sticky juices on a couple of the fingers. Sam's eyes widened. Thinking his father found someone else to play with him, hysteria took hold. "DEAN!" Sam screamed. His screams were high-pitched and desperate, pride and stubbornness gone. "DEAN! HELP ME! PLEASE, HELP ME!"
The man stuck the needle into Sam's neck and pushed the plunger in. "No..." Sam whimpered. "No, please! Dean! DEAN!!!!"
FEED THE DRAGON! ALL REVIEWS ARE SO HELPFUL AND MUCH APPRECIATED!!!!