Legalities, as always Sam and Dead all things Supernatural do not belong to me. They are the property of the CW and Kripke Enterprises. I wish they would share, but I don't think that is going to happen so I guess I will simply play in their sandbox for a bit.

Rating MA: For language and injured Dean and Sam throughout the storyline, they will also be M/M pairing although they are not brothers in this story. Pairings won't happen till later chapters, so be sure to review the warnings before reading.

If you don't like this type of thing, then don't read this story I am sure there are ones that would be more pleasing to you.

Author's Note: This story will follow Sam and Dean they continue their lives and try to deal with the challenges of their own pasts and tragic past of a child named Adam Milligan. This ride will get bumpy before it gets smooth, so be prepared.

This chapter contains mentions of past abuse both physically and sexually involves Dean as a minor, though just barely, but be prepared.

It also includes a non-con rape type scene of the M/M variety. You have been warned!

Chapter 2

Past Meet the Future

Dean locked his office and looked tiredly at the elevator, it was like all the way down the freakin hallway…and all he wanted was to sink into one of the chairs and pretend that the world did not exist for a few hours. He actually hated it when he had to work rotation, it had been fine when he was still in college and was 6 years younger than he was now, but every few weeks he had to share the duties as the 'resident on call'. Those days always blasted his sleep schedule for the next few nights. Sam actually didn't seem to mind that Dean was up, because generally Dean got to feeling a little randy during the night and he would wake Sam up with sex. So of course other than the fact that Sam hated sleeping alone, he was all for Dean working these types of shifts…occasionally. Dean pulled in a slow breath and grabbed his pack off the floor heading for the parking garage; he smiled as he saw his baby sitting and waiting patiently for him in her spot. The 1967 Chevy Impala looked beautiful, she was spotless and her paint gleamed with a shiny obsidian black reflection. This car was his pride and joy, other than Sam, he had fixed the rest of the issues after that awful accident their first year together.

His throat closed, like it always did, as the vivid images associated with that accident flashed through his mind. The memories of Sam, covered in blood and unmoving, still woke him up sometimes. He would be covered in sweat and his muscles rigid as he would fly out of his deep slumber, the nightmares plaguing his dreams and refusing to leave him alone for the rest of that night. Sam would generally catch on when this happened and they would sit in bed and talk, or Sam would just hold Dean while he tried to control the shaking that rumbled through his shoulders.

No matter how long ago that accident had been, the fact that Dean still felt that it was his fault and the resulting injuries that Sam still dealt with, weighed heavily on his tarnished soul. Sam would have slapped him silly if he knew that Dean still harbored all this guilt, but the truth was Dean knew that he was a "worthless piece of shit" as his father would have said. He had simply gotten pretty good at covering that realization up when Sam was around…it was part of the reason that Dean worked with children, he wondered if he could save enough of them, whether or not he could redeem himself…I really freaking doubt it. He thought solemnly. Dean slipped into the soft leather seat and ignited the V-8 engine on the Impala, it rumbled to life and he smiled to himself at the perfect purr of her engine.

Dean pulled himself from his musings as he exited the garage, pulling out on the 4 lane road that ran in front of the hospital. He headed for the on ramp of the 101 knowing that he would probably dream when he got home today and that chances were they weren't going to be too pleasant. He was feeling pretty sad about Weston and the fact that the boy hadn't made it, Dean had really liked him. As he thought of the child his musings turned to the little boy that they would be meeting later this afternoon.

Janice McCarthy had told them little about him beyond his name and his horrific background, something that Dean would sympathize with, along with the fact that he was 6 years old and hadn't spoken in over a year. When they had applied with the adoption agency more than three years ago, Dean had specified that they would be interested in working with a child that had special needs. The fact that they were getting a small child that had been through much of what Dean himself had, left him a little humbled. He had made it through the fucked thing that was his childhood, and frankly he hadn't really thought about the fact that there were small kids out there younger than him dealing with much the same abuse.

Dean had had choices to make, he had chosen to protect Anna and that had involved doing some very sordid things. He had also found a way of dealing with that abuse, kinda, in the personification of Sam Wesson and the absolute love and unconditional capacity for forgiveness that he represented. Dean wanted to offer this kind of salvation to another child. To another lost soul that had been through literal hell on earth and come out the other side.

He was almost surprised when he found that he was on driveway to their shared home, he didn't really remember much of the drive and that wasn't really a good thing. Dean needed to pay better attention when he was headed home after these long hours, he might hurt his baby otherwise. He thought with a bit of remorse.

Dean was surprised when his cell phone beeped at him indicating that he had a missed call, he pulled into the garage and turned off the car grabbing his bag and heading into the house while he listened to the message.

"Mr. Winchester, this is Mrs. McCarthy. We had arranged with Sam to meet with you this afternoon to talk about Adam Milligan, I need to see if we can move that to Thursday at 3:00 pm? Please call me if that is a problem, if I don't hear from you then I will assume that it is set time. Adam seems excited about meeting you two…well as excited as this little gets anyways. Sorry for the rescheduling, I ran into some issues with legal. Nothing to do with your case, but important none the less. I look forward to seeing you then." She hung up and Dean sank down into the chair at the large cherry wood table in their dining room. He leaned over and rested his elbows on his knees, finding that his fingers were scrubbing through his blonde hair of their accord. Dean was nervous about meeting the little guy, so he figured that another two days to prepare, mentally, might not be a bad thing. He determined that he needed to give Sam a call and let him know what was going on; he grabbed his phone and hit the speed dial button with Sam's grinning face on it.

It only rang once before Sam was picking up, "Hey Dean. Anything wrong?" his voice sounded a little worried.

Dean snorted into the phone, "Na Sammy, I just got a call from Janice. She needs to move the meeting until Thursday at 3pm, can you still be there?"

It was Sam's turn to snort, "Wild horses couldn't keep me away Dean. You made it home okay?"

Dean shook his head, Sam was such a mother-hen sometimes, "Yeah Sam, I'm home. I think I'm going to hit the shower and then sleep for a few hours until you get finished at the office." He heard Sam's sharp intake of breath as Dean talked about the shower, and he was instantly picturing him and Sam in the shower. Water cascading over Sam's luscious body and…

"Dean…Dean!" Sam repeated into the phone.

Dean smiled to himself at the naughty pictures playing through his head, "I'm here Sammy…just got distracted…mental images and all."

"Oh us?" Sam asked, his voice getting a little huskier.

Dean chuckled, "No of me and Janice…yes of us you idiot."

"Jerk." Sam said, though there wasn't a hint of anger in his voice, just the sentiment that was always attached to the one word.

"You love it bitch." Dean shot back without even thinking.

They had been using these two words as terms of endearment since they had met all those years ago, and they had just stuck. Much the same way that 'Sammy' had stuck after Dean mocked him with it on their first official meeting. "You know I love you right Dean?" Sam said suddenly serious.

"Yeah Sam…I know. Love you too." Dean answered as he clicked his phone off. Sam would home about five hours and that wasn't much sleeping time for him. He peeled himself out of the chair and stumbled a bit as he walked toward the stairs and ascended to their second floor master bedroom, complete with the most amazing shower that Dean had ever been in. The damn thing had multiple jets that rained water down on the occupant like waterfall. This one thing had been Dean's idea, he had remembered trying to scrub his body clean as a teen in the cold water of their motel of the month, and he had decided that he had earned the most awesome shower money could buy. Sam, incidentally, had agreed.

Dean stayed under the hot spray of the shower for longer than necessary as he let the pounding water wash much of his cares down the drain with his soap. He leaned one arm against the fall wall and was assaulted with a memory so strong that it drove him to his knees.

Hands…there were hands everywhere, they were stroking and caressing him in places that they shouldn't. Dean felt the man sidle up behind him, running meaty hands over Dean's denim clad ass.

"You like this boy?" the man asked, his breath smelling like rotted garbage, his other hand reaching around the front of Dean jean's and clasping his flaccid cock hard. Dean just continued to look at the floor, he didn't speak to them anymore, his father had set him up once again, telling him that Anna needed his help with a school project and then sending him to this dilapidated apartment complex. Dean always fell for the rouse when his father used Anna's needs. He felt the man reach for the button and pop it open as he leaned in placed chapped lips against Deans neck, sucking hard enough that Dean knew he would have another bruise to lie to Anna about.

"Say something boy." He demanded as his hands slid into Dean's pants and inside his boxers grasping his uninterested cock and pulling and twisting painfully as the man tried to get an arousal out of the young man.

Dean swallowed the pain, he always did at this point, the pulled his hand out angrily and spun the kid around looking into his vacant eyes with rage building in his own.

"If I wanted a dead man for this I could have found one. Your father owes me and he said that you would work off that debt. Now WORK!" the man spat. Dean continued to stare at him in open contempt, thought his eyes still remained hollow and uninvolved in what was happening to his body.

The man pulled back his large fist and slammed it into Dean's face, causing Dean to cry out involuntarily as he sank to the floor grabbing his face without thinking. The man buried his hands in Dean's soft blond hair and hauled him up again, looking around the dirty apartment for an appropriate place to teach this 'piece of shit kid a lesson' he wouldn't soon forget.

He smiled evilly as his eyes fell on the bathroom; Dean was still holding his jaw as the man started hauling him into the bathroom.

"Now we're gonna see who's really in charge here. When I say react, you better fucking react boy!" he yelled, reaching down once and ripping the boy's jeans down to his ankles, taking the old boxers with them. He smiled when he saw that the kid was pretty well endowed and that he was obviously not hard at the moment…so that was excellent. Dean started to struggle as he realized where this was going; he hadn't actually been raped since his father had trapped him in the living room a few years ago. He had been forced to participate in lurid acts, but he hadn't been actually brutally raped since then. His fear ramped up as the man positioned his hand on Dean's neck and smashing Dean's face into the side of the porcelain shower stall, pain and blood immediately blossoming on Dean's head and running into his eyes effectively blinding and stunning him at the same time.

"That's better pretty boy. Just lay there…I'm gonna teach you how to respond properly to a paying client" the man tore what was left of Dean's t-shirt off and the slammed a fist into Dean's ribs to ensure that boy didn't have the ability to really fight back. He didn't like it when his victims fought with him; it was a lot of extra work.

Dean felt the man flip him over the edge of the tub, his ass in the air as the bulk of the man settled behind him. His fingers running over the white skin on Dean's hips heavily, leaving bruises and scrapes where he dug his nails into the soft skin. Dean bit back a sob as he was thrown back to that day in the motel room over the coffee table. The man reached around and grabbed his cock in a painful grasp, moving his hand up and down the shaft trying to elicit a response. Dean's cock wasn't remotely interested, it remained mostly flaccid in the man's hand and he got angrier with every passing moment.

"Son of bitch…I'll show you…" he growled as he removed his hands and placed them on either side of Dean's ass just enough for him to ram inside the stunned youth. There was no prep; there was no lube, no soap…nothing just the blinding white hot burning pain of being forcefully penetrated by a sadistic son of bitch in a cheap apartment building.

Dean cried out as agony flared through his entire body, he felt ever thrust and grunt of pleasure that the man made. The tears were running freely down his face as he felt the blood start to lubricate the man's continued thrusts…his shame at being caught like this again flaring to life with him. The man shuttered and then flattened against Dean's back as he came inside the young Winchester, "Next time maybe you'll participate so it don't hurt so much…huh boy." He snarled into Dean's ear as he ripped himself out of Dean, causing the anguished cry that was torn from his throat as intense pain brought white spots before his eyes.

The man laughed and then grabbed Dean's head once again slamming it into the now pink porcelain. Dean felt his body give up the fight and succumb to the injuries; he descended into the blackness that seemed to be the only place that these bastards couldn't reach him…

XXXX

Sam walked through the side door and immediately his 'spidey senses' went off. He wasn't sure what was wrong, but something was off. Sam had gotten out of court earlier than expected and had decided that he wanted to spend the afternoon with Dean instead of behind his stuffy office door. He stopped and listened, the only he heard was the water running upstairs, he ran for the steps taking them two at a time as his senses went into overload.

"Dean?" he called. No answer.

"Dean!" he called louder, again no answer.

Sam pushed into the bathroom and saw his partner kneeling on the floor in the shower, his face a mask of grief and pain…and lacking the sanity that Sam knew he possessed.

"Dean?!" he said as he rushed into the running water, immediately hit the fact that it was freezing and probably had been for a while since Dean was shaking and his skin was covered with goosebumps. "Oh God…Dean…you with me?" This wasn't the first time that Sam had come home to find his strong lover caught in some sort of painful loop inside his own mind. There were times when the awful memories seemed to take the other man hostage and without Sam there to pull him back and remind him of how far he had come he might have done something stupid. For years the need to take care of Anna had prevented that option for Dean, but now that she had Castiel and Cassie…she was taken care of, as far as Dean saw it. The one thing that stabilized the still healing man was Sam's presence.

Dean was a strong person, but the way his father picked away at his mind and his self-esteem still came back to haunt the successful physician. Sam wondered if this had anything to do with the little boy, he figured it probably did.

Dean's eyes rolled over to connect with Sam's and there were confused and a little frightened, "Sam?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah, baby…yeah it's me…you okay?" he said in a soft voice.

Dean closed his eyes and his head lolled forward on Sam's soaked suit, "Why are you in shower in your suit Sam?"

Sam rolled his own eyes, "Because my boyfriend decided to try and become a popsicle…there's no hot water left, it's ice cold dude."

Dean shivered as he nodded his agreement that the cold shower floor really did kinda suck.

"Can you stand up for Dean?" Sam asked as he leaned out and grabbed one of the big soft terry cloth towels.

"Yeah, Sammy…I can stand." Dean stated as he started to get to his feet, his need immediately buckling as the blood rushed back into them. "Owe…shit that sucks" he groaned as Sam took most of his weight and held him upright.

"Dean, it happened again didn't it?" Sam asked gently as he helped maneuver Dean into their bed, pulling the covers back and then throwing them up over Dean's naked shaking body.

Dean's face crumpled slightly as he realized that he had 'lost it' again and that this time Sam had had to pull him back. Sometimes he wondered if he was just going crazy or if he would ever get to a point where he could sorta forget the past and move on with the future.

Sam sat down next to him n the bed, gently running his long fingers through Dean's wet hair, "Dean I love you and I don't want you to feel that you need hide these things from me. I know about the past…and how you came out of it as totally amazing as you are…I have no clue. But I will be forever grateful that you did."

Dean looked at the bed and started fidgeting with the duvet cover, "I know Sam…I just…sometimes I can't control when those memories hit…or how they will affect me. They are so vivid sometimes it's almost as bad as the first time it happened. I'm sorry Sammy." He whispered.

Sam felt his heart break, "Dean, you have nothing to be sorry for…they did these things to you…not the other way around. You are the kindest, most self-sacrificing man that I have ever known."

Dean pulled his emerald green gaze up and looked Sam straight in the eyes, "I am pretty awesome." He said with a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth, his plump lips soft and inviting.

Sam smiled and leaned in placing his lips gently against the pale pink of Dean's pouty mouth, he kissed him quietly with none of the demands that his lips usually made of this man. Dean moaned against him and reached up running his fingers through Sam's long brown hair, deepening the kiss when he was ready to. Sam smiled against Dean's lips and pulled away, "No. Dean you need to get some sleep and then we can…later."

Dean looked a little chagrined and then nodded as he settled back against the pillows, the soft sheets nothing but soothing against his bare skin. "Okay Sammy." Sam watched as Dean's eyes slipped closed and his breathing evened out.

TBC…

Authors Note: There will continue to be references to Dean's past and this story is going to get a little deeper into Sam's as well. The story will drift light hearted into some very dark places, because people that go through things like this don't just forget and move on with life. It should be a pretty awesome rollercoaster of emotions and angst and perhaps some hut/comfort depending on where the must takes me. Hope you enjoyed to chapter.

Please Review: They feed my Muse and she is one hungry SOB.