SHOUTOUTS\ANSWERS

Windyfontaine: Glad you liked it. You just have to wait and see if it'll get him. It let him go 'cuz the boys weren't ready to talk. Yes you will.

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DISCLAIMER

Supernatural belongs to the WB. I only own Karen and Lyle. Scene between Sam and Dean was inspired by the Higher Ground episode "Because It's There".

Early the next morning, Sam awoke and went into the bathroom, turning on the shower. He carefully undressed and then stepped inside. As the water cascaded around him, scenes from the previous night filled his head.

"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy," Lyle murmured.

"Get...off," Sam groaned.

"Ssssh," the man hissed. The water hit a bruised wrist and Sam winced. He had tried to fight and Uncle Lyle had pinned his wrists above his head, immobolizing him. That hadn't made him stop struggling though, and he had the bruises to prove it. Salt entered his mouth and Sam realized he had begun to cry. Sorry. So sorry, he thought. The soap stung as it touched his wounds, but Sam ignored the pain and continued to scrub. When he was finally done, he stepped out of the shower, turned off the faucet, and stepped into a pair of jeans. As he slipped on a fresh shirt, he caught sight of a bruise on his chest. He grimaced as he recalled his uncle's knee slamming down on him when he had tried to twist out of his grasp. When he was finished, he walked out of the bathroom. Meanwhile, Dean had entered the kitchen to find Lyle cooking breakfast.

"Where's Aunt Karen?" the younger man wondered.

"Still asleep," came the response.

"The other night, when ghost took out the flour, it told us to the the truth. And I know exactly what it was talking about," Dean stated.

"Dean, I really don't want to talk about this right now," Lyle stated, concentrating on the sausage that was in the pan.

"Did you think it was funny? Did you think it was such a kick betraying Dad like that? Knowing why I hated coming here? Why I enjoyed hunting so much?" Dean persisted.

"Dean---" Lyle growled, turning to the elder Winchester brother.

"Can I just ask why? Why me?" Dean wondered.

"I wish this thing would just kill you," they heard a bitter voice say. Dean turned around to see Sam.

"Sammy," Dean said. Sam took off, Dean on his heels. They ended up in the upstairs guestroom, where Sam sank to the floor in a corner, crying.

"Sam, talk to me," Dean stated. Sam just continued to cry.

"Sammy, talk to me," Dean insisted.

"Sorry. So sorry," Sam finally said.

"For what, Sam? Sorry for what?" Dean questioned. Please. Please, let me be wrong, he fervently prayed.

"Sorry. So sorry," Sam repeated.

"Sorry for what, Sam?" Dean queried. His brother continued to cry. Dean struggled within himself. He didn't wanna ask, but he knew he had to. Besides, it was probably something else. Uncle Lyle had kept his promise, he was almost certain of it. However, he had to be sure.

"Is it Uncle Lyle?" Dean asked. Sam shook his head. "Did he ever touch you? Did he ever get into your bed?" he persisted.

"No," Sam denied.

"Sam, come on. It's just us," Dean urged.

"Sorry. Didn't mean to. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to," Sam sobbed. Oh, dang it. No. No, Dean thought to himself.

"Why didn't you tell me?" the older brother asked.

"He said---that I couldn't tell you. That you'd never understand. That you and Dad would hate me," Sam sobbed. Dang it. He lied to me, was Dean's tearful thought.

"I understand, Sam. I do," he stated. "He---he did it to me," he confessed. Sam looked up at his brother.

"And you let me stay with him? You knew and you left me for him?" he questioned, just a bit angrily.

"No! It wasn't like that!" Dean protested. "He swore! He swore that if I kept my mouth shut, he wouldn't touch you! He promised me!" he continued, beginning to cry himself.

"You knew what he was! You knew!" Sam screamed through his tears. Dean stood up and ran downstairs on shaky legs. He turned to the kitchen where their uncle was just finishing up breakfast.

"Liar!" Dean seethed, pushing him.

"Dean," Lyle said in surprise.

"You lied to me! You said you wouldn't touch him! You promised me!" Dean screamed. Lyle tried to shush him, but it was too late. Sam and Karen had heard the commotion and had run into the room.

"What's going on?" Karen wondered.

"Nothing. Dean and I have just had a little misunderstanding," Lyle lied.

"No! Don't you dare give me that trash! Sam just told me," Dean stated.

"Dean," Sam said imploringly.

"Go on, my boys. Tell the truth," a voice encouraged. Sam, Dean, and Karen turned around and a woman with blond hair in a white night gown appeared in front of them.

"Mom?" Dean asked in choked voice.

"Oh, baby. Oh, my boys," Mary said sympathetically. "I'm so sorry," she told them.

"We---we didn't mean to," Sam said in a cracked voice. Sure he had only seen her the one time, but he didn't want her to hate him.

"Sam, Dean. It wasn't your fault," Mary assured them. "Karen, you and my boys better get out of here," she continued.

"Gladly," Dean darkly stated.

"Come on, boys," Karen instructed. With that, she led her nephews out of the house.

"Mary, there's something in this house. You have to help me," Lyle said frantically. The woman looked at the poltergeist.

"You can have him. But don't you ever go near my sons again," she stated before disappearing. Lyle screamed as something slashed him across the stomach, and then slammed him against the ceiling. Then, he burst into flames.