If You Dare Challenge - #764 (It's the past, let's not talk about it)

Are You Crazy Enough To Do It Challenge - #590 (typical)

Fanfiction Writing Month: October [1182]

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

So when Dean's illness was nearly gone, Sonny visited their room. Their communication was...interesting, to say the least. Dean was signing, too tired to talk, but Sam was speaking in another language, giggling quietly. It almost sounded like...Latin. "Boys?" He knocked gently on the open door. Upon seeing him, their smiles slid from their faces. "Could I come in?" He almost asked Sam to go and play, but he knew that would only result in more fear.

Dean closed his eyes and nodded, but his arms nevertheless curled around Sam.

"I just wanted to talk to you about what you said on Thursday, when everything happened. Not," Sonny added quickly, "to punish you. I just wanted to know how I can help you academically."

Dean and Sam simultaneously flinched. KNOW SONNY? Sam asked. It would have been strange for any other person to understand Sam's question, but they'd spoken about the subject many times in sign language, so Dean knew exactly what he meant: Does Sonny know that you can't read?

Dean nodded.

Sam turned back to face Sonny and bared his teeth at him. "No," he said. "Nihil. Get out."

Dean's hands flew faster than Sonny had ever seen. CAREFUL SAMMY. NO MAKE SONNY ANGRY OR HE—NO WANT HURT YOU. NO HAVE F-A. F-A was their sign name for the first-aid kit. When Sonny didn't move, Dean spoke. "If you're gonna do it, can we go out of this room? Sam...doesn't need to see it."

"Dean, I already told you: I'm not going to" —his voice cracked— "punish you. I just want to help. I want you to take a little test just to see where you are with your letter recognition, numbers, stuff like that… There's nothing to be afraid of."

"No," Sam said again, more forceful this time. "Exite. You stay away from him."

CAREFUL! Dean signed loudly.

NO DEAN. IF SONNY PUNISH YOU, YOU DIE. REMEMBER YOU WITH SIR? BEFORE? SICK YOU AND SIR PUNISH YOU.

Dean remembered quite well. He had been sick (they still weren't sure what the illness had been); as a result, he passed out during a hunt in Nebraska, endangering both John and Sam by not providing backup. John was so angry when he got back to the motel that… well, Dean had woken up black and blue with two broken ribs and his eyes so swollen he could barely see. He was bleeding profusely from the head, so much so that Dean's pulse nearly faded completely. Sam, after returning from school to find his brother unconscious in a pool of his own blood, had to stitch up the wound in his head and nurse Dean back to somewhat-decent health.

Dean signed reassurances to Sam and then turned to Sonny. "Sir," he said quietly. "I would rather not. I want to stay with Sam."

"It's okay, Dean. I'll just leave the test here with you, and I'll take Sam out of the room so you can—"

"No!" Dean snarled, jumping forward. "You're not taking him!" He coughed. "No! Get out! Get out!"

Sonny added another thing to Dean's list of fears that week: schoolwork. He knew that the boys were immensely frightened of him, so he sent Rosa, his adoptive sister, instead. She was a small, kind woman who would hopefully be able to calm them. "Dean?" She knocked softly on the door. "Sam? May I come in?" After a faint knock, she entered. She found them on top of each other in the guest room bed, Sam curled up in Dean's lap, asleep. It was obvious that Sam had been crying. Sonny had told her about the younger Winchester's nightmares; it seemed to him that every morning, Sam woke up crying. Her eyes travelled from Sam's wet face to Dean's agitated one. He shifted Sam to a more comfortable position as she neared them, stroking Sam's hair and wiping away his tears. "Hey, mijo," she murmured, sitting down beside their bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Better, ma'am," he answered. "Dr. Gilmore said I could start school again on Monday if I wanted to."

"And do you want to?"

Dean stared at Sam's tear-stained face. "I…" He couldn't finish his sentence. It was typical of Dean to lose his ability to speak when he was confronted with something that made him uncomfortable.

The soft-spoken woman made sure to keep her words tender and kind. "What's wrong, mijo?"

Dean hesitated. Malevolent memories bubbled up over the surface of his brain, threatening to spill over, but he shoved them back down. This woman… She was caring and loving, and reminded him so much of Mommy… "Three years ago," he began, his voice shaking, "Sam and I were staying at the motel while Dad went… while Dad worked. He gave us money, so we were fine, but I was still… I was still a little…" Dean bit his lip. "I was...hurt, and my teacher started to notice, and then I...passed out during class. We went to the hospital, but since Dad wasn't there, they put us into foster care after I got better.

"We got to stay together, but we got put with this couple...the Allen family. They had one older son in eighth grade, and he was okay. They put us in school, and they made me… They tried to make me—make me read, and I-I-I couldn't. So I—I didn't want to do it, and my teacher sent me to the principal's office. Mr. Allen had to come, and he took me home...w-wi-without Sam. He was so...so mad, and…" He shuddered. "The teacher told him that she didn't think… that I d-d-didn't know how to re-read, so…" He was growing increasingly anguished now, digging his nails into his palms and glancing all over the place. "He punished me," he said, as though it were the simplest thing in the world. "He p-put a b-b-book in front of me, a kid's book, and t-told me to read it. Every—" Dean shut his eyes for a moment as if preventing himself from crying. "E-every t-time I got something wrong, he—he would punish me."

"He hit you?" Rosa asked quietly.

Dean nodded cautiously. "With anything he c-could find. He—he would pick up things, tell me to spell—to spell them, and if I-I couldn't…"

Rosa was fuming, but she knew she couldn't display her anger even in the slightest, or she could set off a chain reaction of Dean's turbulent emotions. "I'm sorry that he did that to you, Dean. You didn't deserve that." She wanted to hug the boy, but Sonny had warned her about the boys' reaction to physical contact.

Dean shrugged, brushing Sam's hair away from his eyes. "It was my fault. I-I should've known… At least he was never that bad with Sam."

"Did he hit Sam, too?"

Dean's gaze darkened. "A couple times. They knew if they hurt him, I'd have to obey them, and I—" He stopped abruptly, choking down his words. "Most of the time, they stayed away from him. He's a… He's a good kid."

"The best I've seen," Rosa agreed.

A/N: Thanks for reading!