Warnings include mentions of non-con and drug use.
He was inside of him now. A burning intense pain engulfed his entire body. He was scratching and clawing at him. Blood fell to the sandy ground in sickening plops. He was crying, begging him to stop. All he did was laugh and push harder. He called him all sorts of obscene names. Whore, slut, worthless, deadweight.
Then it was Dean hurting him. Dean laughing at his pain and his tears. Dean ruthlessly pushing inside of him. Dean calling him a pathetic junkie, a useless sex object, not worth his time. It was Dean who was mercilessly clawing away his skin, revealing the hideous creature he really was. He was crying still, harder than ever. He was begging for Dean to stop.
And there was Alice, standing a few feet away watching. She looked disgusted, shaking her head. He cried out to her, asked her to please help to make it stop. She just stood there watching his suffering, almost reveling in it. He screamed for someone, anyone, to help him as Dean ripped through his body. He looked around and saw no one was there, no one was going to save him because, he wasn't worth saving. He quieted down and gave in, sinking into the darkest recesses of his mind.
He was back on the streets. Somehow in between consciousness he had climbed out the window. Sam was working on autopilot now, the nightmare he had had led him to let his body take over. He had sunk into a portion of his mind where no one could touch him. He mindlessly wandered throughout the streets looking for the only thing that could numb the pain he felt.
"Hey, kid! You look like you could use a pick me up"
It was Raphael, he didn't recognize Sam. He blinked stupidly at him. The sleazy dealer stuffed a packet of coke in his palm. Sam took it absentmindedly and went home. He habitually poured the contents of the bag into the metal dish and began to heat it up. Once it liquefied he filled the syringe up. Not even bothering with the cord Sam injected the whole dose into his arm. Within seconds the high he always craved washed over him in a tidal wave.
Everything suddenly became numb. He no longer felt the pain of worthlessness. He let out a long breathy laugh. He was happy. The coke washed away every bad thing that ever happened to him. His whole body was vibrating, his breath coming out in jerky gasps. And then, he didn't feel good anymore. His heart began beating erratically causing his chest to hurt. His body seemed to erupt in flames. He attempted to call out for help and only succeeded in vomiting all over the carpet.
Sam instantly began to panic. The pain in his chest intensified causing his eyes to blur. He stumbled off the bed and knocked over his lamp sending it crashing to the ground. His knees gave out after the first couple of steps and he collapsed to the floor moaning in pain. The world took on a sort of misty tone leading Sam to believe that he was, in fact, dying. As a moment of clarity pierced through the fog of his high, he realized how stupid he was. He sank into the darkness praying someone, anyone, would come check on him.
