Wicked Intent

Coffeemaniac

Warnings: Suggestive situations, Violence

February, 2000

Sam leaned against the couch. He closed his eyes, cursing softly as he did. Embarrassment warred with disappointment. He didn't know whether he did something wrong, or whether she did, but he felt the weight of her anger crushing him.

He imagined her father coming over with a gun, or her mother giving him a big speech on being disappointed in his behavior. He wondered what his father was going to tell them. He wished Dean would come home but he dreaded seeing his brother too.

Sam slapped a hand over his face and cursed again. How could a night that started out so well end with such a crashing thud?

As the minutes crawled by, Sam worried about what might be happening at Kaylee's. His father often lost his temper so the confrontation between him and her parents might go badly. Or maybe his father was telling them that Sam is awkward and inept. Or worse, maybe he was agreeing that Sam unfairly tried to take advantage of their daughter.

Sam started replaying the evening with Kaylee. They kissed and touched each other at the game and during the walk back to the motel. She agreed to come inside and sit with him on the couch. What was he supposed to think? Admittedly she seemed nervous. He remembered her death grip on his shoulders. He remembered her squirming. But, why didn't she say something? He thought she was responding to him, not trying to push him away. He would never force a girl to do anything, wouldn't even consider it.

The grumbling engine of the Impala cut through the quiet. .He heard a car door slam then voices raised in anger. Sam jumped off the couch and jogged outside where he found his father and brother standing next to their car watching as a truck sped out of the parking lot, kicking up dust and gravel. John turned to Dean and grabbed his son's chin. He shifted Dean's face back and forth then let him go and slapped him on the back.

Dean followed behind their father as they passed Sam to walk into the motel room. Sam's heart jackhammered when he saw the bruise on Dean's cheek.

"What happened?" He said.

"That waitress, the one from yesterday, sic'd her brothers on me. No big deal," Dean said. He flopped on to the couch and poked lightly at the bruise. Sam noticed torn knuckles on one of his hands.

"Why?" Sam said.

"I guess she figured she could act like a whore one minute then pretend I took advantage the next." Dean made the insult sound casual

"Whoa, Dean, that's enough of that," John said. "What happened between you and her?"

"I took her to dinner then we parked near that creek at the end of town. We spent some time getting to know each other…you know…spent the night in the back of her car then she dropped me off this morning."

"You had sex with this woman," John said. Sam bit back the "obviously" wanting to come out.

"It was all good," Dean said. "I was happy, she was very happy and we went our separate ways."

"Did you call her? Did you tell her you were going to call her?"

"I don't know. I guess. I mean you can't just say 'bye', right? She knew it was a one-time thing."

John huffed out a sigh. He pushed his hair back with one hand and scratched his head. He was dressed in blue jeans with an open flannel shirt, and he looked tired.

"Sit down, boys." The exhaustion in his voice made Sam regret causing trouble.

Dean dropped on to one end of the couch while Sam perched on the other end. Sam clasped his hands in front of him waiting for the lecture he knew was coming.

John stripped off his over shirt and dropped it on the table. The green t-shirt underneath looked grungy as if he'd been spattered with mud. He pulled the chair around so he was facing them, then sat down and leaned forward in a similar stance to Sam.

"Okay, let's talk about women," he said.

"We've had the sex talk," Dean said. About a year earlier, Dean had started making flippant remarks to their father and to Sam's surprise, rarely got reprimanded for it.

"I think I've neglected something with you boys," John said. "I think you've missed something important when it comes to relationships with women, and it's probably my fault."

"Dad, I didn't try to force her," Sam said.

"I know that, son. But, you also didn't pay attention to the signals she was sending."

"Wait a minute," Dean said, shifting to face Sam. His expression seemed caught between impressed, surprised and worried. "What'd you do?"

"Nothing," Sam said. He buried his face in his hands.

"Sam, look at me," John said. He waited until Sam dropped his hands. "When you're with a girl…or a woman…you can't let yourself get so caught up in the moment that you forget to watch everything she's doing, to hear every sound she makes, not just words but sounds. Just like on a hunt, you can't get too focused on the goal, you have to watch for all the signs and signals."

"She seemed like she was into it."

"Okay, but are you sure she didn't do anything that maybe, thinking back, seemed negative? Maybe she tried to push you off or maybe she said something like she needed to get home? Was she fidgety or noisy, not in a good way, I mean."

Sam remembered her hands on his shoulders again, the way she was squirming beneath him. He remembered his mouth clamped over hers but her tongue wasn't responding to his. He covered his face again.

"Oh, God," he said. He felt his skin heating up and the knot tightening in his belly.

"I'm going to take that as a 'yes'," John said. "So, this is the most important part, you have to think of her all the time, especially with intimacy. You have to focus and pay attention. You're bigger and stronger than she is so it's your responsibility. Do you understand?"

Sam nodded vigorously but kept his face covered. He waited for the sarcasm from his brother but it didn't come.

"Now, Dean," John said. "Let's talk about you."

"Hey, Lela wanted me as much as I wanted her. I didn't push her into anything."

"Shut up and listen."

Sam dared a glance between his father and brother. Dean had stopped moving and a grim slit replaced his arrogant grin.

"Lying is lying," John said. "You tell a girl you're going to call when you're not planning to, you're lying. I didn't raise you to be a liar."

"Actually, you…"

"Shut up. Working jobs is not the same thing and you know it. Honor starts with truth and women deserve it as much as anyone. Having casual sex doesn't make her less worthy of your honesty."

"So, you're saying I should just tell her 'bye'."

"No, I'm saying you should tell her 'thank you', wish her a good day, tell her that you enjoyed the time you spent together. Be nice, be polite, be respectful. This woman has agreed to have an intimate experience and she's chosen you. Be respectful."

"It's not like I'm just an asshole. I'm nice."

"Then don't lie. Don't make promises you're not going to keep. And that goes for you too, Sam. Respect."

"Yes, sir," Sam said.

"They always kind of know," Dean said. "I mean that it's a one-time thing. It's not like I'm promising a ring."

"If they always know then her brothers wouldn't have picked you up off the street to kick your ass."

"At least they brought me home." Dean's attempt at humor fell flat.

"Yeah, well, two civilians just grabbed you off the street and kicked your ass so maybe you need to do some extra sparring."

"Dad…"

"Starting tomorrow. Both of you."

"Yes, sir," Dean said.

Sam rolled his eyes wondering how he got wrapped up in Dean's punishment.

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Sam retired to the small bedroom located in the back of the motel. He flipped the door closed then jumped into the center of the bed and rolled on to his back. He folded his hands under his head and stared at the ceiling. Since it was Friday, he had a couple of days before returning to the local high school. He dreaded going but hoped that the gossip would die down before Monday. He wondered if Kaylee went home to warn all her friends to stay away from him.

The bedroom door opened. He expected to see Dean but his father strode in instead. Sam sat up, planting his feet on the floor.

"I spoke with Kaylee's parents," John said. Sam's heart picked up in his chest. "I explained that it was a misunderstanding."

"How did that go?"

"Her mother seemed to agree that Kaylee might have some issues with overreacting. Her father was less forgiving."

"What's going to happen next? Should I call her? Apologize?"

John shook his head. "No, you shouldn't. Maybe call her in a couple days when everyone's calmed down. However, luckily for you, the job here is done."

"It was the first girl, right? Her dead brother."

"Yeah. She was leaving his belongings all over the neighborhood."

Sam shook his head. "Why would she do that?"

"She wanted to have her brother close to her. She got it into her head that if she gave his belongings to people then he'd always be near. It kind of worked, actually."

"Except he was trashing the houses looking for her."

"Yep. Once you figured out that she was the common denominator, Dean remembered seeing the brother's photo at the second house and then one of their friend's was wearing his football jersey in another house, and it just started fitting together after that."

"So you burned his bones."

"A little too much body with them actually. He's only been dead a couple of months."

Sam grimaced at the mental image but brushed it off for a more pressing concern.

"So, when are we leaving?" He hoped it was before Monday.

"Not until Thursday. I promised I'd help another hunter look into a ghoul sighting the next town over. I'm leaving tomorrow afternoon but I'll be back for you boys on Thursday night."

"Any chance I can skip school until we leave?"

John shook his head. "Sorry, son, you're going to have to face the music on this one."

"Come on, it doesn't really matter, does it?"

"Of course it does."

Dean sauntered in with his usual swagger and dropped on to the other bed. His interruption stopped the argument that Sam was building up to.

"All cleaned up?" John said, referring to the scrapes and bruises Dean sustained during the fight.

"I'll survive," he said, gently touching the light bruise on his cheek. "You know, Dad, I'm really not a complete jerk when it comes to women."

"I hope not, but, you need to do better," John said.

John clapped Dean lightly on the back before he wished both of them a good night. He closed the door behind him as he left.

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When Monday arrived, Sam still felt unsettled about returning to the school. He hated being the "odd" kid anyway and now he was the "pervert" kid too. He argued with his father on Saturday morning but it didn't help. Apparently, he missed enough school due to hunts that his father didn't want to compound it because of teenage discomfort.

Sam dressed for class, took $2.00 out of their food allowance for lunch and walked two blocks to the high school. Dean had already left to work at a garage for some extra money so Sam had no one to vent to before heading out.

He arrived a few minutes early because he wanted to gauge his reception. If Kaylee spent the weekend spreading accusations, he expected some hostility. At the very least, he figured he'd get curiosity stares and he wanted to be prepared for it.

As he crossed the street he spotted Keith and Sebastian, two boys he had started eating lunch with on his first day at the high school.

Sam walked up to them, straightening his backpack as he approached. Keith had straight brown hair that he wore around his shoulders. He wore brown corduroy pants and a tie die t-shirt. Sebastian had thick black hair that he wore in a ponytail. Sam's father called them hippies.

"Hey," Keith said as a greeting.

"Hi," Sam said. "You ready for the exam today?"

"Finished the book yesterday. I'll skate by."

Sam shook his head with a grin. They were supposed to have "Pride and Prejudice" read a week earlier. Mrs. Field had been reviewing the contents all week in preparation for the exam.

"So, Sam," Sebastian said. He hesitated and Sam figured he was trying to choose his words. "What happened with you and Kaylee Sullivan after the game?"

Sam scratched his eyebrow and glanced around for eavesdroppers. With just the three of them huddled and no one else nearby, he rolled his eyes.

"Did she tell everybody?" He said.

"I don't know. My sister told me about it," Sebastian said.

"Great," Sam said, feeling the heat of the incident closing in on him.

"So, what happened?" Sebastian asked again.

"Nothing. I mean, we went back to the motel and we were…"

"Wait, wait, wait, motel?"

"Not like that. It's where I'm staying. And I don't know, she didn't want to do what we were doing, I guess, but I didn't do anything to her. She put on the brakes and that was that."

"Girls are sensitive," Keith said.

Sam wondered if that was true of all girls. When the bell rang for home room, he walked in with his friends, relieved that he wasn't the school pariah.

The rest of the day passed normally for him. Even lunch period came and went without any trouble. He didn't see Kaylee all day which was fine with him. A couple of her girlfriends glared when he passed them but he ignored their hostility. One of the guys from the football team bumped into him after history class then barked out a laugh when Sam stumbled but Sam still felt lucky. It could have been a lot worse.

After school ended, he hiked his backpack on to his shoulder and walked out into the clear, cool day with Sebastian. They split company at the end of the first block.

With their father out of town, Sam wondered what Dean planned to do about dinner. As often as not, Sam was on his own in the evenings and almost hoped his brother had plans. If Dean wasn't there, Sam could walk into town and grab some Greek food.

Just as he passed the entrance into a dirt lined alley, he stuck his hand in his pocket to pull out his cell. He grunted as his body jerked backward by a sudden yank on his backpack. Between the surprise and the weight, he stumbled landing hard with his shoulder jamming into one of the books. He rolled to one side slipping the straps off his shoulders. Before he could get to his feet, he took a hard kick to his hip. Ignoring the flare of pain, he rolled away and stood up, his leg and back throbbing as he took stock of his attackers. Robby Newman, Mark Porter and Gerry Main stood smirking at him, all three looking proud of themselves but not ready.

Sam dropped into his boxing stance. Robby laughed but before he finished, Sam darted forward, swinging hard. His fist landed perfectly against Robby's nose, the pop audible. Blood spurted but Sam had seen blood before. He sent a roundhouse punch into Mark's cheek. While Robby hopped around with his hands covering his gushing nose, Mark collapsed on to one knee. Gerry lunged forward but Sam danced out of his reach. He spun around bringing his knee up, shoving it hard into Gerry's belly.

"Stop, stop," the shrill voice broke into the sounds of grunting and complaining. Sam turned towards the alley to see Kaylee waving her hands as she ran towards them.

Mark took advantage of Sam's distraction. The punch above his kidney sent a shockwave through Sam's body. He yelled out as he crumbled to one knee. Mark sent another blow into his cheek and Sam collapsed to the ground. As he started to get his knees under him, another blow landed against the side of his head. His vision blurred as blood ran into his eye and Sam tried to rise again only to feel a boot rammed into his lower back. He fell onto his belly, just barely keeping his face above the rocks. Winded and throbbing, he tried to drag himself away from the fight, needing a couple of feet of distance. Something collided with his cheek, flipping him on to his back and sending dark spots into his eyes.

As Sam lost consciousness, he heard the taunting curses lodged at him but he couldn't register their meaning. His mind cruelly tossed up an image of Kaylee smiling at him before he didn't see anything for a while.

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Early evening with its dim light and cold wind found Sam waking near the edge of the alley. He fought it, not wanting to face his aching body or the chill but eventually, he had no choice but to roll on to his knees. Groaning with the effort, Sam managed to leverage his body off the rocky ground. He wiped at the dried blood but that was a pointless exercise. He needed water to wash up.

Weaving unsteadily on shaking legs, he tugged his cell out and phoned Dean.

"Hey, I need help," he said when his brother answered then proceeded to give him the name of the cross streets.

While he waited for Dean, Sam found his backpack then dropped it by his feet. He leaned against the back fence and inventoried his clothes. A large tear in his shirt, rips at the knees of his jeans and dusty dirt covering all of him advertised his pathetic loss. His head pounded annoyingly and his body hurt. He needed Tylenol, an ice pack and no lecture but he doubted he'd escape Dean or his father.

Dean pulled up in a beat up looking pick up. The manager at the garage had been letting him use it. Sam opened the passenger side door, tossed his backpack between them and slowly climbed in.

"Are you all right?" Dean said, anger tinging his words.

"Yeah, they hit like teenagers."

"How many?"

"Three."

"Is that all?"

Annoyed and defensive, Sam said,

"Football players."

"Just messing with you," Dean said. "Assholes jump on you, three to one, they're chicken shit."

"Well, one of them has a broken nose now so there's that."

"There is that. Let's get you cleaned up."

As they made the short trip to the motel, Sam told Dean about Kaylee's presence at his beating and that the boys were defending her.

"Bitch," Dean said.

"Small town crap," Sam said. "I can't wait to get out of here."

"They sure do like their women in this town."

Sam chuckled. "I guess."

After they arrived at the motel, Dean stayed beside him during the slow walk inside, not touching him, but hovering. As Dean locked the door behind them, he ordered Sam into the shower to clean his scrapes.

Twenty minutes later when Sam emerged, clean and damp, Dean checked his eyes, asked a few questions to determine the level of concussion then gave him three Tylenol.

"Are you hungry?" Dean said.

"How about Greek?"

"How about burgers?" Dean didn't bother to hide his disgust at the idea of feta cheese, hummus and kababs. "I'll be back in fifteen minutes."

Sam settled on to the couch. He put his head back and waved his agreement. The Tylenol hadn't kicked in and he hurt from his head to knees.

"Oh, by the way," Dean said before walking out. "Dad finished early. We're hitting the road tomorrow night."

If Sam's lips weren't split and oozing, he would have smiled at the news.