Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural, Sam and Dean would never be allowed to wear shirts

Sam and Dean are unrelated and 19 and 15.

Oh my god! I am SO sorry for the extreme delay! Thank god it's spring break now, so hopefully that'll mean more updates XD

This chapter is much longer than the last so I hope it makes up for the delay :)

WARNING: There's some pretty disturbing imagery. Nothing really happens, but the descriptions in this chapter might be unsettling to some.

Enjoy chapter ten!

Dean dug through the bags, seeing what John got. "I'm almost positive that all this will overwhelm him."

John shrugged. "He needs clothes. He also needs all the other essentials. To be honest, I'm surprised his teeth haven't rotted out of his skull.

Dean glanced back at the bathroom. "Being a demon has it's perks, I guess..." he said quietly.

John looked at the young man. "Deans."

"What?"

"I'm... not into the whole touchy feel-ly crap, but... I know this can't be easy -- "

"I'm fine, sir," Dean said. He went back to sorting through all the stuff John bought. "I don't need to... talk or anything."

John nodded, not believing him. He ran a hand over his face. "You remember back at the motel, right? When we were testing Sam? You lost control." Dean flinched at the reminder. "And considering your history, it's not surprising..."

"Not surprising that what? That no matter what they are, I want to send every motherfucking demon back to hell?" Dean swallowed hard, trying to reign back his emotions. "I watched my brother get stabbed in the stomach and neck," he said in a matter-of-factly manner. "I watched my father's dead body fall to the ground after the demon was exorcised. Of-fucking-course I want send every fucking demon back to hell. But Sam..." Dean bit his lip. He had no idea what to make of Sam. The cycle of reasoning that kept spinning in his mind was making less and less sense with each rotation. Still uncertain, Dean met John''s gaze with steely eyes. "I wanna help him. I don't why, I don't know how. All I know... is that I want to help him."

John nodded. "Alright." He looked at the bathroom door. "Think you should check on him?"

Dean shook his head. "Nah, I told him to give me a shout if he..."

His sentence petered off as he thought things through. Considering what Sam has been through, what are chances that he could holler for any sort of help. Dean was certain that, through Sam's eyes, Dean and John were the ones in power, not unlike Gordon.

"Shit." Dean stood and went to the bathroom door, giving it a quick rap. "Sam, you okay in there?"

Sam jerked a little at the knock on the door. He stared at the door as his mind slowly started to comprehend the question. "F-fine..." Sam responded quietly.

Dean frowned as the barely audible response. "You done cleaning up?"

Sam nodded. Then remembering that Dean couldn't see him, murmured a quiet 'yes.'

"Alright..." Dean went over to the bags and grabbed a t-shirt and sweats. Opening the bathroom door a tad, he tossed the clothes into the bathroom. "You can get dressed into these." With that, Dean closed the door.

Sam looked at the clothes from his position in the tub in confusion. They... they were giving him clothes? Sam looked down at his current outfit. Gordon only got him clothes when his current outfit had been irreparable. In fact, the clothes he had on at the moment were over a year old. He never changed. In fact, Gordon and other hunters would often strip him naked and string him up for humiliation and punishment. Nothing but an animal, you demonic freak... clothes are a privilege that you don't deserve... you only have them so we don't get tagged by the law...Why Dean and John would be giving him fresh clothes now was a complete mystery to Sam.

But Dean told him to change and the last thing Sam wanted to do was make him angry. So, shivering from the cold, he stepped out of the tub and took his old clothes off. For a moment he looked down at his body. The scars on his wrists and ankles were already starting to heal at this point and any injury inflicted on him had long since healed. He ran his bony fingers down his chest, fingering the ribs that stuck out. He caught a glance of himself in the mirror and quickly looked away, unable to stand the image of himself. He was a freak in almost every way. He even looked inhuman. His waist was sunk in, several inches smaller than his chest in circumference. His hip bones poked out sharply and his limbs were literally nothing but skin and bone. His skin was pasty and translucent and his eyes and hair were dull in color. His wet hair reached down between his shoulder blades where Gordon had last hacked it.

Sam nervously rubbed his hands together as he stood there naked and wet. He knew he had to get dressed as per Dean's orders, but at the moment he was paralyzed. He hadn't looked at himself in nearly a year and to see himself now had Sam frozen as he thought about his pathetic body. Sam quickly wiped the tears that were leaking from his eyes away, knowing he didn't deserve them.

He couldn't remember anything before Gordon. He knew he had killed his mother, but he couldn't even remember her name or face. All Sam knew was what he was now. All he knew was what Gordon and other hunters had told him and as much as he wanted to prove them wrong, they were always right. If he could, Sam would have taken his own life long ago. He had tried on several occasions, but always failed. The first time, he stole a knife and stabbed himself in the wrists and neck repeatedly. It was painful, but he had been desperately hoping for some sort of blissful emptiness to take over, so he bared through it. The emptiness never came though. His only consolation was that Gordon didn't punish him that night. In fact, Gordon smiled, said "good little demon," and left Sam to literally sleep in a pool of his own blood.

Sam grabbed the sweats and slowly put them on. They were extremely loose on him, but the elastic band was tight enough that it didn't fall over his hip bones. He then grabbed the t-shirt and pulled it over his head. It was also a loose fit, but functioned fine for its purpose.

Now, not knowing what to do, Sam sat on the floor and waited for more instructions from either Dean or John.

"What do we do now?" Dean asked.

"What do you think we should do?" John replied.

Dean rolled his eyes. "I don't know, John! That's why I asked!"

John gave a strained smile. "Well, unless we can find some lore on innocent abused demons, we're gonna have to wing this."

Dean gave an incredulous laugh. "Great. And how exactly are we going to 'wing this'? I mean... are we even doing the right thing here? Should we be trying to make him better?"

John frowned. "I thought you wanted to help him?"

"I do. It's just..." Dean rolled his eyes. "None of this makes sense. I mean... what do you think?"

John shrugged. "Honestly, I'm not really thinking anything. As far as we know... Sam is some sort of supernatural entity. But until we have proof that he's dangerous, there's no reason for us to mistreat him in any way."

Dean slowly nodded, hoping John was right. "Do you have that folder that Gordon showed us?"

John nodded, opening his duffel and pulling it out. He opened it, scanning the papers. Most of them were forged to make it look as though Sam had been adopted by Gordon, but there were also some notes that Gordon took, most of them vague. "I looked through it earlier, but there isn't much in here. Sam's original last name was Wesson, but there's no other information about his origins except his birthday. There isn't even any information about his original family or where he was born."

"Maybe he wasn't born..." Dean said slowly. "I mean, we don't know what he is, so we don't really know how he came into being, really. His 'mother' might have been an adoptive mother."

"Maybe..." John closed the folder. "We're going to have to do some digging to see if we can learn anything more about him."

Dean nodded. He towards the bathroom, wondering what was taking Sam so long. Sighing, Dean got up and knocked on the door. "You dressed, Sam?"

There was a moment of silence before a small 'yes'.

Dean opened the door and peered inside. Sam was sitting on the floor with his knees drawn up and his head bowed down. His old clothes were in a small wet pile next to the tub. Dean wrinkled his nose a little at the tub filled with brown water. Walking in, Dean pulled the plug on the tub. "I guess you were really dirty, huh?" Dean looked back at Sam and noticed the water that was dripping from his soaked hair was still brownish in color.

"Really really dirty..." Dean dried his hand off. "Let's go back into the room, 'kay?"

Sam silently nodded and shakily stood, his eyes still cast downward.

Sam's compliance really disturbed Dean, especially since it now reminded him of how he took advantage of it just an hour ago. He really wished Sam would rebel just a little against him, his complete submission unnerving Dean.

Sam stiffly followed Dean back into the main room where John, who was watching silently, was. Sam then walked to the couch where Dean told him to sit.

Dean gave John an exasperated look, silently asking him what do to. John nodded, understanding the silent plea, and stood. He knelt in front of where Sam sat, ignoring Sam's hitched breath as he did. "I'm going to ask you a few questions, and I want you to answer as truthfully as possible, okay?"

Sam nodded, keeping his gaze fixed on his lap where his hands were twisted together.

Curious about what John was doing, Dean sat on the ground next to him, gauging Sam's reactions.

"When was the last time you had a decent meal?"

Sam's stomach clenched at the question. He gave a small shrug, knowing he's never had one.

"Okay... can you tell me who your parents are?"

Sam frowned, wondering why John was asking these questions. What possible purpose could he have? Didn't he want to know who he had killed? How he killed them? Sam just shook his head in response to the question.

John sighed, a little frustrated on how this was getting them nowhere. "Can you tell me how you met Gordon?"

Sam tensed, his stomach clawing at itself and his body starting to shake. Not wanting to make John angry, he tried to think back to his earliest memories. They were all fragmented and filled with pain and fear. He was much more disobedient back then. More out of control. But he couldn't remember any specifics. He knew that Gordon found him after he had killed his mother. Gordon made sure Sam remembered that fact. But he couldn't remember the actual event.

Dean watched as Sam seemed to fall apart at the question. The stiffness and compliance crumbled away as he his body was submitted to a fearful trembling. A soft keen escaped Sam's throat and Dean found himself feeling sorry for him. Once again, the demon fell away and all Dean could see was the kid. The kid who had been subjected to who knows what horrors. Dean stood and sat on the couch next to Sam. Still feeling way out of his league, he swallowed down his hesitations and wrapped an arm around Sam's shoulders.

John blinked in surprise as Dean sat next to Sam and tried to comfort him. He could tell by Dean's expression that the young man was completely uncertain about what he was doing.

Sam flinched at the contact, but was then reminded of when Dean put his arms over him before. Sam unconsciously leaned into Dean's side, soaking up his warmth. Feeling a little more confident, he stuttered out his response.

"I..." He clenched his hands tighter together. "He... f-f-found me... a-after I k-k-killed m' mom..."

John nodded. "When was that?"

Sam shrugged, having no idea how long ago that was. Sam remember nothing before it so it could have been a hundred years ago for all he knew.

John sighed, knowing he wasn't going to get anywhere with this. He hated this. He really had no idea what to do and was feeling more than a little lost. "I'm gonna get us some dinner," he said as he stood. "Just... keeping talking to him. See what you can learn."

Dean gave John a look as the man grabbed his keys and left the motel room. He sighed and looked back at Sam, who was still trembling. Even if Sam was a demon, he was also a kid. The more time went by, the more Dean was certain of it. Dean thought about how his own childhood was stripped away and wondered when Sam was ripped away from his childhood. "Can...?" Dean stopped, not wanting to interrogate the kid anymore. He rephrased his question. "Why don't you tell me about your mom?"

Sam frowned. Why on earth would Dean want Sam to tell him about his first murder victim? Sam had no right to even mention her. He had murdered his mother in cold blood. Murdered an innocent person. Hell, Sam didn't even have the right to call her 'mom'.

Dean sighed. "My mom was... really hyper. Loved getting in my business." He had no idea why he was talking about this. He never talked about his family, not even to John. "She was always worried about me... was afraid I'd drink too much then get into a car." Dean bit his lip at the memory of his mother yelling at him after he came home completely wasted. "Course, I didn't stop drinking until she after she died..." He remembered cursing himself for months after his family died, for not fixing himself up sooner. If he hadn't been such a loser, maybe he would have been able to stop the demon... or at least have the decency to die with them.

"H-how she die?"

Dean jumped at the whispered question. He was even more startled to find Sam looking at him with curious eyes. He didn't even comprehend the question until after he got over the shock.

"Um... she was killed. By..." Dean sighed. "By a creature."

Sam looked back down at his hands, not knowing how to react. All Sam knew was what Gordon and others like him said and did to him. He knew nothing about the pain of others. Pain, that is, that he didn't cause. "I... I'm sorry," Sam said, unsure if that was the appropriate response.

Dean gave a little smile. "It's okay, Sam. Not your fault." He rubbed Sam's arm a little, trying to coax Sam out of his shell. "So, I told you about my mom. What about yours?"

Sam visibly drooped in disappointment. Dean's mother sounded like a wonderful person. Sam bet his mother was amazing too, but he had no memory to pull from to confirm this. Besides, what right did he have to any wonderful memory of a person he killed?

"I don' remember," Sam murmured, hoping Dean wasn't angry for his inability to hold up his end.

Dean nodded sadly. "Alright. What do you remember? Before Gordon, I mean."

Sam's insides clenched. "I... I don't."

Dean sat up a little in surprise. "You don't remember anything before Gordon?"

Sam shook his head as he started to tremble again. "G-Gordon... it's all I deserve to know... 'c-cause... I-I'm a d-d-demon..."

Dean sighed, recognizing that Sam was retreating back into his shell. "Right. All you deserve to know." Now he was more curious than ever to know what exactly happened to Sam.

Yay for spring break! hopefully more time to write! (remember, reviews spur motivation ;D)

Sooo...? Review and let me know what you think :) Feed the dragon XD