ULTIMATE DISCLAIMER IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!

ULTIMATE WARNING IN PROFILE AND CHAPTER 1!

AU, OOC. Mentions of SLASH.

GRAND UPDATE! :D

Hey, guys! Sorry for the long wait, I was busy. Hope you're not that angry at me! -smiles sweetly with Sadie-

Okay, so everyone was pretty worried about Sam's shaking and stuttering. Hope you will enjoy this chapter!

Chapter 5: The Needed Push Over The Tip

Sam was kneeling on the floor of the entrance hall near the double door, cleaning the tiles attentively. The big grandfather's clock upstairs had already chimed eleven o'clock. Sam happily noticed that he was almost finished with his work. All this time he was thinking about this whole thing. So far he didn't have a terribly hard job, even with the long list of orders. And the Master wasn't cruel as Sam imagined him to be. For some unknown reason, he was expecting an old, heartless man, who punished his slaves with whipping for every little mistake. At that thought a much more violent shiver ran through him, his teeth clattering together from the force of it. But the Master wasn't like that, not at all. He was strict, but kind, just like Mr. Graven, apart from the overly-heartiness that got into his voice during exhibitions.

But that wasn't the only thing that helped Sam to get to like the man. Dean was extremely good-looking. His voice was deep that would make any girl swoon over him and he could melt the coldest hearts with a smile. Even me, he thought, a blush heating up his cheeks. He shook his head to dismiss his bad thoughts. He's my Master, a superior, he tried to convince himself. He wouldn't like me. I'm just a slave!

His thoughts were cut short, when his hands knocked against the wall, indicating that he was done. Sam straightened out with a sigh and gently tossed the wet rug into the bucket. His hands were shaking hard from the cold water and the skin was red. His fingers were a little numb from the continuous wringing and scrubbing. Sam carefully stood up, mindful about his bare feet on the slippery tiles, picked up the bucket and walked slowly to the Servants' Quarters' entrance against the wall. Stepping into the kitchen, he poured the water into the sink and put the bucket and rugs away, cleaning out the basin and laying the wet rug on its side to dry.

"Sam" Alex spoke up from the stove, "could you go set the table in the Dining Room?"

"I-I don't know h-how…" Sam started, but Alex quickly cut him off:

"Get a white bowl and plate from the closet, a spoon, a fork, a knife and a napkin from the drawer" as Alex explained, Sam did it right away, "take them to the Dining Room and put them on the table where Mr. Winchester sits! I'm sure you saw which seating is that."

"Y-Yes."

"To the other seats get the golden-streaked plates from the cabinet in the Dining Room and set them on the table as well! But be careful with them!"

"B-But Ramon o-or M-Mark…" Sam started, getting a little scared.

"The shower in one of the bathrooms decided to flood the whole room today, so the two of them are repairing it now and I need to stay here. Could you do it, please?"

"A-Alright" Sam left the kitchen and walked to the Dining Room through the back hallway behind the stairs. The room was empty; the table was covered with a cream-colored tablecloth, the two candleholders standing proudly on the top. Sam put his stuff down and stepped to the bronze cabinet. Opening the glass doors, he searched for the correct plates. He soon found them; they had been on the table in the morning, when he met the Master. He carefully picked some up and took them to the table, carefully placing them in front of the chairs one by one. When he was done with that he reached out to the white ones.

As he picked up the bowl, his trembling jumped up to a violent shiver, causing his hold to slip. An enormous CRASH reverberated through the whole room, leaking out into the hallway, thanks to the open back door. Sam froze in his place, his eyes widening from the sight of the white shards on the floor that was once a bowl. Sam's hands slowly rose to his mouth, subconsciously pressing a distraught sob back into his lungs.

All of a sudden fast steps resounded in the hallway and Ramon appeared at the door.

"What happened?" he asked seeing Sam's shaking form frozen in place. When he didn't get an answer, he stepped closer and noticed the tears rolling down the pale cheeks. He followed the horrified gaze to the floor and saw the shards.

"Which one was it?" he asked worriedly. Sam still couldn't utter a reply or even move. Ramon looked at the table and noticed seven golden-streaked plates and a white one. Kneeling down he inspected the shards and found out it was a white bowl. A sob broke him out of his thoughts and he looked up at Sam. The boy was scared to death: his hazel-green eyes reddened and glinting with tears, his face whiter than the broken bowl.

"Alright" Ramon stood up and stepped to the boy cautiously, like he would approach a wild animal. "Come on" he said and started to lead Sam out of the room, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. "I'll take you to Mr. Winchester."

As they made their way towards the bedroom, Sam pressed his palms onto his mouth hard, so he would stay silent and not break down into hysterical sobs and screams. The two of them stopped at the bedroom door and Ramon knocked on it. The door soon opened revealing the lord of the mansion.

"What happened?" he asked worriedly as he stepped aside, letting the two slaves in.

"There was an accident, sir" Ramon said, letting go of Sam. Dean looked at the boy closely, his brow furrowing by the shock on the pale face. Stepping closer he gently pried the hands away from Sam's mouth.

"What happened?" he asked softly. Sam was still shocked but after a few silent moments, he snapped out of his stupor:

"Alex asked me to do it and I was scared that I'd mess it up but I had to do it because Alex asked me and no one was available and I just finished with the scrubbing and I placed the gold ones right but I couldn't do it and now it's broken and all over the floor and I said to him I was clumsy and I didn't want to do it and I did it and messed it up and…"

"Shhhh" Dean shushed the hysterical boy, who started to cry from terror, holding onto the shaking shoulders as Sam swayed dangerously. He looked at Ramon for an explanation.

"He broke a plate" the man supplied. "It was a white bowl. I arrived just after the crash, and he was standing above the shards, frozen from shock."

"It was a white one?" Dean asked worriedly.

"Yes, sir. I checked it myself."

Dean nodded and stepped back, staring at the frightened slave. Ramon sensed the change and took a step back himself, feeling sorry for the boy. Sam noticed that something was wrong and started shaking harder.

SLAP!

Sam fell onto his side from the force of the hit, his right cheek flushing from the hand that backhanded him. Dean was shaking the numbness from his fingers. However, before anyone could speak up, Sam's shaking increased in force, sending his body into convulsions. The others looked at the boy for a moment then Dean hurriedly spoke up:

"Something's wrong! Call the doctor!"

"So what happened?"

The question came from a man, Dr. Jim Novak. Everyone was in the sleeping quarters of the servants. Dean stood at the foot of the bed, Ramon next to him; Alex was next to the doctor, who was sitting on Sam's bed. The doctor's light blue eyes were fixed on the shaking form in front of him, one hand comfortingly lying on the shoulder.

Sam was laid on his side, the pillow already sweat-soaked under and around his head. His body was jerking erratically, not quite convulsing, but close to it. His eyes were gazing into the nothingness, soft whimpers escaping from his lips. His skin was damp from sweat and hot from a low fever.

"He got punished for breaking a plate" Dean answered the question. "It was a harder slap. He collapsed and then started convulsing."

"Sir?" Alex spoke up fearfully. Dean nodded in permission. "He has been shaking since the previous night. And he got a little nauseous this morning."

"Had he eaten anything?" the doctor asked.

"A few spoonfuls of cereal for breakfast. And he said he ate before the exhibition, where Master bought him."

"I see" Dr. Novak murmured. He tenderly caressed the damp, brown locks, but it seemed Sam hadn't felt it. "When had he become a slave?"

"He was captured two weeks before we got him" Dean answered quietly, arms crossed in an attempt to hide his trembling hands. He was really concerned for the boy; after Ramon had run for the phone, Dean had lifted Sam into his arms to take him to the Servants' Quarters. The boy's arms had been hanging towards the ground, his head had lolled back lifelessly, but his whole body had been still wracked with vicious spasms: twice Dean had almost dropped him because of it on his way downstairs.

"Has he vomited yet?" the doctor asked.

"Yes, sir" Alex replied. "Just a few minutes ago, before you arrived."

Dean closed his eyes against the image, but it broke free. He remembered Alex jumping up from Sam's bed and dashing towards the kitchen, returning with a plastic bowl in a moment. The young man had raised Sam's upper body, Ramon quickly hurrying to help him. Dean remembered that he himself had gotten nauseous from the gags that had come out of Sam. The bowl was sitting on a chair innocently, the smell of bile still lingering around it, after washing it out three times in a row.

"Well" Dr. Novak spoke up as he rummaged through his bag, "I think I know what's going on."

"What is it?" Dean asked quickly.

"He's having a nervous breakdown" the doctor replied, looking up at the man. "It seems that he was pushed, or more like shoved, into slavery. He hadn't known what to expect from it and his scared mind hadn't helped his situation, either. It probably tortured him with images that aren't true. The breaking of the plate had brought him to the tip of the iceberg and the slap had been the needed push over it."

Dean scrubbed his face to hide his guilt; he subconsciously caused Sam pain. And for what? A damned, worthless piece of porcelain, which at that was a cheap copy. Dr. Novak started to rummage through his bag again then pulled out a syringe and a small phial of clear liquid.

"What's that?" Dean asked.

"Diazepam, a sedative" the doctor replied, as he sucked the appropriate dose out of the phial with the syringe. "It'll relax his muscles and help his nerves to calm. Can one of you help me?" the doctor asked looking up at the slaves.

"Ramon!" Dean called out quietly and the man jumped to help. With the doctor they stretched Sam's arm out and Dr. Novak injected the medicine. Sam cried out when the needle penetrated his skin and tried to jerk away from the source of the pain, but Ramon held him down, soothing the terrified boy with sweet nothings. After that Dr. Novak put the used syringe into a plastic bag and put it into his bag. All of them waited for a few minutes, Dr. Novak gently caressing the boy's locks and the others, especially Dean, inwardly praying for a higher power to let the medicine take effect. Slowly Sam's whimpers died down and the spasms decreased to violent shaking. Only when Dr. Novak stood up, did the others let out a relieved sigh.

"He should be alright now" Dr. Novak addressed his words to Dean. "For the rest of the day he needs to be on bed-rest. If his fever doesn't fall by nighttime, give him a mild febrifuge! But he should be fine tomorrow. If his shakes don't disappear, call me again!"

"Thanks, doc" Dean shook the man's hand. Before he could say anything else, though, Alex jumped up and picked up the plastic bowl, all the while Ramon lifting Sam's upper body up. They watched as Sam let out a small burp, a little bile flowing out of his mouth, but after that he somewhat settled with small coughs. "What about the vomiting?"

"The Diazepam is already absorbing in his system" Dr. Novak explained calmly. "He should be okay. The vomiting is a side-effect of his anxiety."

"Alright, thank you" Dean waved for Ramon, who followed the doctor out. Dean stepped to the bed silently.

"Alex" he whispered, "go pack the food away into the fridge! You will stay with Sam today. Don't leave his side!"

"But what about dinner, sir?"

"Ramon and Mark will heat up the food you cooked for lunch. It shouldn't be a problem."

"Thank you, sir."

"Don't thank me!" Dean smirked. "I see from your mother-henning how worried you are for him. You're gonna make me some pie, though, paying for my generosity" he added teasingly.

Alex chuckled with a slight blush, but nodded.

"But not for breakfast" he said with a smile.

"Lunch?"

"Alright." An outsider would think that a lord would spoil his slave by letting him banter with him, but this little, sort of brotherly argument was a usual ritual for the two of them. Dean gently caressed Sam's brown tresses then the damp cheek with the back of his fingers. Strangely, it was the one he had hit just minutes ago – the bruise was already visible – but instead of flinching, Sam's body relaxed some more and his eyes closed, indicating that he finally fell asleep.

TBC

Yeah, I know. I'm cruel. But at least here's an explanation for the shakes. And don't you love the new character? He's gonna have a recurring role in the story, since he's the doctor... Whatever... I'm sure all of you enjoyed it, don't deny that! :D

So, Read and Review! See you soon!