Disclaimer: Not mine. I'm getting sick of writing this here. So, for the next few chapters, I am disclaiming them now.
Author's note: Okay, I understand I haven't updated in a hell of a long time, I am sorry! I don't think I've ever actually experienced writer's block, and now I have. You learn something new every day.
Seventeen years ago a house was burnt to the ground. Two houses, in fact. The family residing in one of the houses went by the last name Winchester, whilst the other went by the last name James. Both families lost a member that night, John Winchester and Sandra James both lost their lives horrifically. A month earlier, Sandra had given birth to twins, Sam and Jake. Sam escaped the house miraculously, while Jake hasn't been seen since that night. His fate will never be known.
While no suspects, evidence or a motive were found, many people still believe something went wrong. After all, how can there be two house fires in the same neighbourhood, on the same night, when both families were close friends.
-x-x-
The young boy hit the floor with a heavy thud; a small groan fell out of his mouth before he could catch it. Life was rough, he had no family. The attacker didn't know, nor did he care. To the man towering above the young boy, he was just a slut, a use to get what he wanted. A tool.
"You'll do as I say, got that, bitch?" The older man rasped, putting himself back in his shorts. "Give me my money." The young boy coughed though the blood rapidly filling his mouth from a split lip, winded from the knee that had embedded itself into his stomach moments before. "No." The older man denied the young boy what he owed him, filling him with emotions beyond recognition, and then leaving through the dark alley-way, hopefully never to be seen again.
"Jesus, Jake! What are you doing down here? You're bleeding, oh god. Look at you!" A young girl screamed as she ran down that dark alley-way to the young boy's side, which just looked at her like she was stupid before standing and walking away. "That boy will never learn..." she whispered to herself before getting up off her knees and walking to her car.
-x-x-
This wasn't the life anyone would choose for themself, a series of foster homes and numerous charges tucked tightly under your belt. Hard, cold stone pressing relentlessly into every inch of the side of your body that you chose to sleep on that night.
Jake lay awake, on the floor, underneath him a thin rug reducing the hardness of the ground in what used to be a house. A house that he had reluctantly squatted in until he got enough money from quickies and faked moans just to get the payer off, to get it over and done with. Sleep often tugs at him as he lies, but almost never gives in to it. It's almost as if fear was the only emotion that resided in him, always having one eye open in case he hadn't satisfied the customer to their satisfaction and they came looking for him. This wasn't normal fear. This was fear, real fear, the fear we never want to feel.
The only thing he really knew, he couldn't sleep at night. Normal people, citizens were the enemy. The hated.
He did sometimes think about where he came from, where his family was, but never really sat on the idea for long. Emotions were useless, unnecessary.
-x-x-
Imagine a diamond, just a normal diamond. No particular size, just a normal diamond. A diamond is the hardest natural substance known to man, although they can be broken down into a smaller form, it's hard to do. Hardness and strength are two different things. Sam was sure this was how Dean made him feel, like a diamond; unbreakable. While he still felt fragile, as if one wrong look could break him, he felt like Dean was his shield. Which wasn't always a good thing.
Rides in that old Impala weren't always quiet, there was usually the sound of Black Sabbath filling the air, Dean tapping the tune of yet another song in his music library or the silence that filled it now. This was one of those times where neither boy was sure if they spoke they would keep their heads. The whole reason why they started to fight was stupid, Sam justified.
"I'm sorry, okay?" Sam whispered, eyes coming away from being locked on the boring grey scenery. It was a gloomy day and it didn't help either of the boys' moods. "I'm not angry that it happened, Sam! I'm angry that you weren't more careful!" Dean shouted, taking his own eyes off the road momentarily before continuing the never-ending staring contest with the road that passed underneath them. "Jesus, Dean! How was I supposed to know? It looked exactly like you!" Sam's voice raised a few notches. "What?" Dean asked, this was one of those little things that most people left out of a story out of laziness, to get it over with and then everyone would know and it would be over. "I said, it looked exactly like you. Right down to the necklace I got you, that scar on your wrist from the night you fought off my dad..." Sam replied, his eyes not even daring to stray from whatever they were trapped on. "Oh. Why didn't you tell me?" Dean was confused, any other day Sam would have teased him for it. "'Cause, ya'know, I thought it didn't really matter." Sam took his eyes off the endless amount of trees and looked at Dean, who pulled him closer, Sam rested his head on Dean's shoulder and soon fell into his first sleep since the events that had lead them driving as far away as possible after Dean had plunged the axe into the Siren's head.
Road continued to be swallowed up by the tyres of the black impala, the sun's last ray's fell on the roof, Dean Drove on. Confused and tired. He always knew Sam's mind was complex territory, but this just sent him flying out the back windscreen.
-x-x-
Jake pulled himself into a sitting position, sighing with disappointment. For some stupid reason he actually thought today would have been better, Jake cursed at himself under his breath while rolled up the thin blanket he had slept underneath.
Anger, is it in the heart or the mind? Many people are lead to recognise anger as a dangerous emotion, and yet they fail to see that happiness can lead to anyone's demise. Sadness is meant to be one of those emotions nobody wants to feel, and yet we do. There are emotions nobody knows how to explain, describe or even understand but they still come around at one time or another. A lot of people would say being disappointed in someone is so much worse than just being angry at them, because if someone if angry at you, you can always display the same amount of anger towards them. But disappointment, nobody knows how to pull disappointment out of thin air. But after disappointment, is there a moment when you stop and suddenly realise that you can probably help that person by using your disappointment in a positive way? Or do you just keep that disappointment alive and lose the relationship you had with that person?
Jake didn't know what it was like to really care, to have someone to show him how much they care, to help him. He was disappointed in himself, and as much as people like to tell you that there is some way to turn around self-disappointment, they're lying.
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Xo CryForHelp.
