Twisted Love

Beta'd by mysterychic. Many thanks to her for beta-ing.

Disclaimer: Don't own Supernatural, but I do own Johnny, Kit, their parents, Jack Foel, and Newbridge Falls.

Author's Note: Don't know if it's worth mentioning, but the idea for this chapter title came from the name of an episode of Angel.

Review Answers:

Spuffyshipper – Yeah, poor Sam, he always seems to be the one that gets in trouble. I think I'm going to have to do something about that (evil grin). Hmmm… I honestly don't know who made the phone call. For all anyone knows (me included) it could've been legit.

Rosalene – I'm glad you're enjoying this story so much. I'm also glad that it doesn't seem like I rushed Sam and Johnny's relationship. Yes, that was funny, you have puplover77 to thank for that, because it sure wasn't my idea. The cops were my own though. I wanted Sam to get arrested (as I hinted to when Foel ordered the constable to check up on the backgrounds of Dean 'Riley' and Sam 'Finn').
I'm interested, tell me, tell me. Or did you? No offence, but if you did, it didn't seem like much of a theory. If you didn't, well, I'd like to know. Even though (being the warped little teen that I am) neither really bothers me. But yes, I prefer OMC to wincest. Of course, that may just be because of the almost total lack of OMC romance on this site for Supernatural.

Lol, it was only 9:54 at night for me when I read the review, so it wasn't too strange to me.

puplover77 – Well, I could hardly give him such an abrupt ending. I created him for the sole purpose of making Sam how I like him (and for an excuse to write MM romance). To have him killed right then and there just wouldn't fit into the grand scheme of things. And yes, it was just too good not to put in. Originally it was going to be in the dream beforehand, but I thought it would be funnier if it really happened.

talon81 – Yeah, they definitely had it coming (not in a bad way, they just did it too often, it was bound to happen). Yeah, Sam can never seem to get his happiness, can he? Something always goes wrong…

Anora – (Old West Accent) Well, it looks like there's a new reviewer in town. (Normal) Welcome, glad to see you reviewed. Nice to think of it as interesting, it'll keep you… interested I guess. Yeah, I do write during the week, it just takes longer for some reason and more often then not it's the weekend again before I finish.

Inuyasha's Plaything – Hey, I recognize your name. I've seen you around the site (though I've never actually spoken to you). Always nice to see someone I recognize reviewing my fanfic. I'm glad you've, uh, fallen in love with my fanfic, lol. Just remember, to love something that isn't real and alive can border into obsession. Dean Winchester is living proof of that (Nods knowingly).

Demonhunter2 – Then why are you reading it? No, wait never mind that, if you had read it, you'd know that Sam isn't gay in this story. There is a thing called bi-sexuality, y'know? But I'm going to thank you in a strange, round-about sort of way, because you made me realize that it is different (or, I should say, will be different) so I've made it an AU. Happy now? (Not that I did it to make you happy).

Nina – Thanks for pointing that out. I live in Australia, and we become legal at eighteen. In this AU (as I said above, this is now an AU), I guess people become legal at eighteen in the US now as well. And I'm glad you think it's interesting, that's a good thing.


Chapter 6: That Vision Thing

"… So it wasn't you who made that call?" Sam asked.

"No, I've been too busy trying to save my own ass to risk calling them and saving yours." Dean said.

"Where are you?" Sam asked.

"Sorry, can't tell you that," Dean said, "Can't be too careful; for all I know, the cops could be listening in on the conversation." Sam sighed but decided Dean was only doing what was safest; he'd probably do the same thing if their roles were reversed.

"Okay, where should I go?" It killed him just to ask his big brother where he should run to and hide. There was silence on the other end of the phone for a few minutes before Dean answered.

"Go to Johnny's." He said.

"Okay, you got an address?" Sam asked. Dean gave Sam the address. "Thanks, see you later… hopefully." He hung up the pay phone and stepped out of the phone booth, shouldering his back pack. He looked up and down the street, and then hailed a taxi.

The driver took him all the way to the Fields' residence, and then expected a very hefty fare (which, in Sam's opinion, was too much, even if the drive was kind of long). Sam got out of the taxi, making a rude hand gesture at the guy as he drove away, and then walking up to the front door of the… house Johnny shared with his parents.

The woman who answered was short, stout, but definitely Johnny's mother despite the great difference in height. "Can I help you?" She asked.

"Uh… yeah, I'm a friend of Johnny's and…" He suddenly remembered that Mrs. Fields had been the one who called the cops. "… I heard he didn't come home last night. I just came by to see if you'd found out anything?"

"As a matter of fact, he came home this morning." Mrs. Fields said. "He seems a little down, maybe you could cheer him up. He doesn't have very many friends you know?"

"No, I… uh, I didn't know that." He said. Mrs. Fields stepped aside and let Sam. He nodded a thank you to her and then realized he didn't know where Johnny would be.

"Down the hall and to the left." Mrs. Fields said, obviously realizing his predicament. He nodded another thank you and headed down the hall. He knocked on the closed door, and heard a forced "Come in" and he pushed the door open. Johnny looked up from where he was laying on his bed and immediately came to his feet when he saw Sam was there.

"Sam!" He crossed the distance between them in about a second and wrapped his arms around him. Sam was both pleased and surprised, not comprehending until that moment just how worried Johnny had been. After a few seconds, he returned the hug, but he quickly pulled back when Johnny winced and involuntarily flinched at Sam's touch. Sam looked at him, confused. Johnny bit his lower lip, and went back and sat down on the bed.

"What's wrong?" Sam asked. He'd thought Johnny would be happy to see him. He'd seemed happy when Sam first opened the door.

"Nothing, I just… I… it's nothing." Johnny said. Sam narrowed his eyes. Something about the way Johnny sat, the way he held himself, the way he had moved, told him something was wrong with the younger man. It had something to do with being touched.

"Take off your tops." Sam ordered. Johnny blinked. "Please." He added, giving Johnny those puppy dog eyes that Dean found it impossible to say no to. They had just as much affect on Johnny, and the younger man sighed, unzipping the front of his jacket and slipping it off, and then taking hold of the bottom of his shirt and beginning to lift it.

"Boys, I thought I might make-" Mrs Fields began as she came in. Then she saw Sam, looking at her son, with Johnny taking his shirt off. Naturally, she put two and two together and got fifteen. It would've been laughable if that hadn't been the correct answer to a different question.

She put her hand to her chest and fell over, unmistakably fainting. Johnny cocked his head to one side as he started on the singlet. "I always wondered how she'd react." He said.

"Should we… er, do something?" Sam asked. Thankful to have Sam's focus away from him for the moment, Johnny nodded.

"Help me get her out to the living room. We can lay her on the couch and tell her she fainted just as you came in." He said, leaning down, wincing as he did so, Sam noticed, and sliding his arms under his mother's shoulders. Sam took the older woman's feet, and they gently carried her out to the living room, and then returned to Johnny's bedroom.

"You don't seem overly concerned about her." Sam said, glancing back out to the living room.

"She does this all the time, tries to make people feel guilty." Johnny said. "My parents are real con artists." He added bitterly.

"Uh-huh." Sam said. He nodded toward Johnny's singlet. The younger man sighed, and gently lifted it over his head. Sam gasped at what he saw. Johnny's chest and abdomen were covered in a mess of nasty looking bruises and cuts. "Turn around." He said. Johnny nodded and slowly turned, showing more cuts that looked like they'd been inflicted by a whip, or maybe a belt. The younger man flinched when Sam reached over and laid a hand on his shoulder. He turned his head to look at Sam. "What happened?" Sam asked.

"I… got into a fight." Johnny said. "On the way home."

"You drove home."

"In the motel parking lot."

"The police were there, they wouldn't have let something like that happen, or at least not let it get that bad." Sam said. Johnny couldn't stop himself from glaring at Sam. The older man sighed, and turned Johnny around so he was facing him entirely. "We can talk about this later. Let's see if we can get these cleaned up." He said, gesturing to the injuries.

"I'm not going to a hospital." Johnny said immediately, taking a step back from Sam.

Sam looked at Johnny, confused by the change in his friend. Just this morning he looked like the apocalypse couldn't upset him, and now…

"I won't take you to a hospital." Sam said. "But those cuts could get infected if we don't get them cleaned, and those bruises, well…" He was wasn't sure what he could do about those. He could tell just by the way Johnny was moving that he was in a lot of pain. He gently reached over and touched his chest, trying to avoid the bruises where he could. Johnny looked confused, but also slightly relieved by Sam's touch, and let him do what he had to do. "Well, at least you don't seem to have any broken ribs; that's a good thing." Johnny nodded, and then led Sam to the bathroom where they set about trying to clean the cuts as best they could (Johnny's family didn't exactly have the most stocked medical supplies in case of an emergency).

They managed to find a bottle of antiseptic. They took it back into Johnny's room, where Sam, as gently as he could, started cleaning the many cuts covering Johnny's torso. Johnny's hands took a painful grip on both of Sam's shoulders when the antiseptic-covered cotton ball was first applied to his tender and barely healed skin, letting out a small gasp of pain before clamping his mouth shut and refusing to make another sound, though what he lacked in sound he made up for in the physically letting it out. Sam wouldn't be surprised if he had bruises on his shoulders not from Johnny's vice-like grip.

When they were finally done, Sam returned the bottle to the bathroom cupboard, and returned to Johnny's room to find him pulling his singlet back on.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" Sam asked, taking on the chair at Johnny's desk.

"I already did." Johnny said.

"No, you told me a poorly thought-out story." Sam said. He sighed.

"I was worried about you… how'd you get out of the police station?" Johnny asked, trying to change the subject.

"You don't want to know," Sam said. "Who hurt you?" He asked. Johnny looked at him for a long minute, opening and closing his mouth several times. Sam could see the beginnings of tears along the edge of his eyes.

"I… I can't tell you." He said, refusing to look at Sam. Sam sighed and stared down at his hands, not sure what to do. He looked back up and saw Johnny was still trying hard not to let his tears fall. With another sigh, he got up and walked over to the bed, taking a seat and pulling Johnny into a loose hug so as to try and avoid hurting him anymore then he already was.

But Johnny wasn't content with the loose, half-hearted hug, and wrapped his arms tightly around Sam, pressing himself against the older man. Sam let him, and tightened his own embrace, though still trying to be careful of the injuries on Johnny's back.

Finally unable to hold it in anymore, Johnny buried his face in the warmth of Sam's jacket and began to cry softly as Sam held him. Sam just held him, rocking him gently like he would a scared child (if the child was six-foot-one that is).

"I d-didn't mean to…" He said softly. "I-I should've c-come home last night. B-But I wanted to be with you. I w-wanted… to feel it. And he was so angry when I got home." Sam was beginning to put the pieces together in his head. He continued to rock Johnny, letting it all come out in its own time. Maybe he wasn't so bad at this after all.

Johnny was silent again for a while, feeling relieved and content to have someone hold him. He'd never felt what it was like for someone to care about him, except maybe Kit, but she couldn't feel that way about him. It felt like he'd spent an eternity frozen and had now been warmed by Sam's touch. He held on to Sam tighter, like he never wanted to let go. And Sam obliged, holding him so close that to get any closer they'd have to be in the same clothes.

"You're gonna be okay now." Sam promised, and Johnny couldn't help but smile through the tears. Sam smiled too. Then his face became a mask of pain as a vision ripped through his mind. His grip slackened, and Johnny knew instantly something was wrong. He took a step back, seeing Sam with his hands pressed against his temples.

Johnny had his eyes narrowed in focus as he struggled against the ropes binding him to the chair.

Sam blinked, his breaths short and shallow.

He wasn't looking at anything, just staring straight ahead, almost as if he could see his own hands behind him.

Johnny was staring at him, not sure what was wrong, and even less sure of what he should do. Sam suddenly cried out with pain and his eyes went wide.

"He's dead…"

"You've got me now."

"Be with me for forever, Sam."

Johnny's eyes widened in shock when he saw the knife, the blade covered in his own blood.

Sam screamed and fell forward, with Johnny catching him just before he hit the floor.

"Sam?" Johnny said in a small voice, confusion and concern seeping into it. Sam looked up at him, pain still etched into his features. But he pushed it to the back of his mind and climbed to his feet.

"We need to get out of here. Now!" He said.


A/N
: I hope the vision wasn't too lame. I imagined how it'd look if it were on TV, but it was hard to convert that into written words. So, what did y'all think? Was it good? I hope so, I wrote it in about two and a half hours, so I hope it doesn't seem too rushed. And apologies if the vision seems kind of crappy, I was having a little trouble trying to figure out how to do it.