Dangerous Beings.
Summary... Sam finds out the hard way that supernatural beings aren't the worst things out there. Sam's 13, Dean 17. Rated T. This fic does contain child abuse, but it's not graphic. If you don't like please don't read.
Disclaimer... Still owned by Kripkie, I'm just waiting patiently for him to get bored with them…
A.N... There's a bit more darkness again this chapter, so apologies to those if your offended by it. Have had trouble with the net, haven't been allowed to get on so I apologize for the delay in posting.
Chapter 3. So close, yet so far.
Dean and John were lost; the heart of their small family was now shattered. Sam had been gone ten weeks now and the stress of TV appearances, police appeals, police questioning and newspaper interviews had taken their toll. John's normally dark hair was now peppered with grey. Dark circles and heavy bags now spoilt his once handsome face, which was now creased with worry lines. Dean hadn't fared much better; his eyes rivaled his dad's although his were also clouded with a deep sense of guilt. He'd lost weight, eating only because John forced him to, and his shoulders now slumped heavily, the weight of the world on them.
There was just no sign of Sam. They had pooled together and pulled out just about every favor they were owed, but nobody had seen the younger Winchester. Sleep had become a necessary evil, they both needed it but they both fought it. Every night was the same, terrible nightmares forced them awake where the viciousness of their minds played constant reminders of what could be happening to Sam. Today they were going door to door, canvassing people, showing photo's, asking more questions but expecting no answers. They had already tried the houses by the motel, school and store, now they were going further a field. It was a slim chance but it was all they had.
Taking a home each they started their quest, by mid morning they must have called at over fifty houses, showing the photo's and speaking to people in most of them, leaving details and a number at the ones that were out. Turning away from a house he'd had no luck at, Dean could see his dad across the street talking to the occupants of a small blue bungalow, Dean could tell from his fathers stance he was having no luck. Not wanting to dwell on their lack of success he started up the path of the next house. Pretty shrubs and flowers lined a neat lawn in front of the pristine white house. Stepping onto the porch, Dean felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, ignoring it he pressed the buzzer. Hearing a dog barking and approaching footsteps he took a slight step back, the door opening to reveal a dark haired woman with glasses standing behind the screen.
"Can I help you?"
"I sure hope so ma'am. We're looking for my brother he's been missing for over two months and I was just wondering if I showed you a picture you might have seen him around, somewhere, possibly?"
"I can surely try sweety, but my husband and myself work out of town a lot so it's unlikely that I can help you, sorry".
"Could you just take a look, please."
"Sure honey, let me look." Dean handed over the most recent photo they had of Sam to the woman. It was taken at their last school before this one Sam looking proudly into the camera, dimples showing on his smiling face."Oh, I'm so sorry; he looks like a total sweetheart. Who could think of taking such a lovely child? I'm sorry to say though I haven't seen him around." The woman answered, passing the photo back.
"Are you sure? He's grown more since this picture; he's gaining height on me now." Dean tried again.
"No, no, I'm sure I definitely would have remembered him if I had seen him, I'm sorry."
"Okay, thanks, do you mind if I leave my number and some details just incase you maybe see him around?" Dean handed over one of the flyers before making his way back off the porch.
"Sure sweety, and believe me I'll call if I ever catch sight of him." The woman answered before closing the door.
Walking back down the path, Dean couldn't help the feeling of being watched, the hairs standing up once again on the back of his neck. Shuddering slightly, he put it down to the now colder weather and continued on to the next house.
Sam's days seemed to all join into one, he had no idea how long ago he had been taken and between the beatings, abuse, brainwashing and drugs he was forgetting who he was and where he had come from. Lying on the dirty mattress he was trying to urge his battered mind to remember events that had happened before he had ended up in this hell. Instead his thoughts took him back to a particularly brutal beating that had happened at the end of the first month.
"What is your name?" Graham had asked.
"Sam Winchester." A punch to the head brought stars to Sam's eyes.
"What is your name?"
"Sam Winchester." The punch was to the stomach this time.
"I can carry on all night boy. What. Is. Your. Name?" Graham spat out.
"Sam Winchester." His mending fingers took the beating this time being re-broken.
Sam learned that night that Graham did not lie; the beating had gone on all night only ending when Sam was covered in bruises and cuts and whispering apologies. Now Sam could barely remember his original name, it came to him only in the rare lucid moments that were becoming few and far between, answering to the name Burton, if Graham cared to ask. The beatings weren't the worst thing though; it wasn't if he had not been hurt before. The worst was the daily raping's, where either Sherry or Graham took turns using Sam, even worse was when they forced Sam to do equally disgusting things back.
Even the most vicious of beatings didn't stop them as Sam found out the day after the name beating. Sherry had come into the room early that day with water and painkillers, Sam was curled up on his side, his back to the door, clothed only in a dirty pair of boxers his other clothes taken away to stop him running away, not that he could have anyway the pain was too bad and the drugs made him disorientated and constantly tired.. Forcing the pills down an unresponsive Sam, Sherry had sat on the bed rubbing circles on his back. Feeling Sam cringe beneath her touch was seemingly like an arousal to her.
Coming back to the moment Sam forced himself to not think about that night anymore. That was the night Sam's mind turned in on it self, he shut down, he broke. There were more degrading things done since then but Sam was past caring, he welcomed the twice daily doses of drugs the couple gave him, he didn't eat, barely drank, stopped washing, when they allowed him too, thinking that the smell might possibly stop them. He had resigned himself to living in this place or even better dying in this place.
Sitting up he readied himself, he could hear footsteps, it was time for another dose. The door opened and Sam's hunger for a fix disappeared when it wasn't Sherry who appeared but Graham.
"You little piece of shit, how could you do this to us? And after we've treated you like our own child. You have been near that window haven't you? I'll make you pay for hurting your mother like that."
Shrank down into the littlest ball Sam had no idea what was going on, he hadn't been near the window, he hadn't upset anyone, he'd heard the doorbell ring earlier but that couldn't be it, what was the matter? Knowing the punishment would be worse if he spoke he kept quiet, but this just seemed to irritate Graham all the more.
"So you're not talking? I'll make you say something; I'll make sure you do not go near that window again." Graham rushed out before repeatedly slamming his heel down with force on Sam's left leg, the result was instantaneous, Sam screamed, the leg breaking under the vicious assault. It wasn't enough for Graham though, as Sam attempted to protect his leg he left his back and side unprotected to which Graham took advantage raining blow upon blow on the distressed child. Sam passed out but it still didn't stop him, only his wife coming tentatively in to the room eventually did.
Sam finally awoke, in pain and disorientated. He wished he had died when he realized he was naked, as were the couple, who were sandwiched either side of him, touching him in places he knew if he ever got out of there he'd never let anyone touch him again. Praying for one of his injuries to be so serious it would take him away from here, he closed his eyes and hoped he'd never open them again.
A.N... Thanks to all who have read and reviewed I appreciate everyone's comments. Had a really quiet day in work yesterday, 9 hours and 1 customer, so chapters 4 and 5 are finished but I'm a nasty pasty so your not getting them yet, enjoy this chapter first. Oh and if there's anybody out there called Sherry or Graham Burton please except my apologies it's just a name that I came up with and I mean no offence. Peanut x