AN: I apologise for the late update. Writer's block is a bitch. But anyway, here is chapter 3 for all you patient readers :)

Warning: strong language, homophobia, child abuse (don't like, don't read)

Disclaimer: I only own the plot and nothing else. If I owned everything else, I would be amazingly rich and super happy :D

Chapter 3

"So Sam, do you want to come over to my house for dinner tonight?"

Sherlock and Sam were sat in their form room alone. They were the first people in and took this as an opportunity to chat with each other.

Sam grinned when Sherlock suggested that. He would much rather spend the evening with him than go back to his house and face his hung-over, and frankly pissed off father.

"Sure," Sam answered. "I'll let Dean know later."

The bell suddenly rang and the class filed inside and sat at their desks. Sherlock noticed Sam gingerly reaching into his bag for his books and watched as a small grimace of pain crossed his face. Sherlock bit his lip and made a promise to himself that he would speak to Sam about it later as the lesson began.

"So...did you get into a fight or something?" Sherlock asked Sam over lunch.

Sam looked up at him like a deer caught in the headlights. "Pardon?"

"The way you moving show to me that you are in immense pain," Sherlock spoke. "I also observed the facial expressions you pull when you bend to get something or when someone bumps into you. In conclusion, I think that your ribs are either bruised or broken. Which again leads me to my previous question; did you get into a fight?"

Sam stared at Sherlock in awe and wonder. He had never seen anything as incredible as that or met anyone who was that observant.

"No," Sam answered and bit his lip nervously.

"Don't lie to me this time." Sherlock snapped.

"I've never lied to you, Sherlock." Sam said sadly.

"I know you have," Sherlock told him. "You lied about your dad's job."

Sam swallowed and nibbled his nails. "I didn't."

Sherlock huffed and got to his feet. "I was wrong about you, Sam. You're just like everybody else."

With that, Sherlock stalked out of the cafeteria leaving Sam alone.

"Where's your boyfriend?" Dean grinned mischievously and sat next to Sam.

Sam sighed and, ignoring his brother, got to his feet and hurried away.

As Sam walked down the corridor, he could hear muffled shouting coming from the boy's toilets. He approached them and carefully pushed to door open to see a load of boys, Dean's age, crowded around a stall.

Sam pushed his way through to get to the cause of the crowd and the shouting to find John Watson and another boy, Mike Stamford, holding Sherlock's head in the toilet.

"Get off him!" Sam yelled running forward to try and pull Sherlock away from them.

"Who's this clown?" Mike asked laughing.

"Sherly's new boyfriend," John sneered and continued to stick Sherlock's head under the water.

Sam punched John hard causing him to lose his grip on Sherlock and for his nose to start bleeding. Sherlock came up from beneath the water gasping and spluttering. Sam crouched next to his friend and gripped his hand tightly.

"I won't ask again," Sam snarled. "Leave him alone."

John and his friends hurried out of the bathroom leaving Sam and Sherlock huddled at the bottom of the stall.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked once Sherlock had calmed down.

"I'm – I'm fine." Sherlock stuttered. "Thank you."

"Don't worry about it," Sam helped Sherlock to his feet.

"No, I mean it," Sherlock said gripping Sam's arm. "Thank you."

"I was only doing what any decent person would have done," Sam shrugged and went to walk away when Sherlock pulled him back.

"I'm really sorry about before, Sam." He told him. "You aren't like anyone else. You are my friend and I don't think I've ever really had any friends."

Sam blushed slightly and smiled. "So…we still on for dinner tonight?"

"Definitely," Sherlock grinned and they both walked together to their next lesson.

"So Sam," Sherlock's mother spoke over dinner. "Where did you move from?"

"Kansas mainly," Sam answered. "But my father moves around a lot for work so we've never really settled down anywhere."

"Well, it seems Sherlock has taken a liking to you." Sherlock's mother beamed as Sherlock blushed and hid behind his curls.

"This is beautiful food Mrs Holmes." Sam spoke and took a bite from his chicken casserole.

"Thank you, Sam." Sherlock's mum grinned widely.

The rest of the meal was eaten in companionable silence. Mrs Holmes cleared the plates away when they were finished while Sherlock and Sam headed upstairs to work on a Geography project together.

"Your mum's nice," Sam spoke as he copied and pasted some information on the laptop for the project.

Sherlock blushed and smiled shyly. "She is. I'm lucky to have her. She could have kicked me out for coming out gay but she said I was brave."

"What did you ever see in John?" Sam asked curiously. Sherlock swallowed.

"He never used to be like that." Sherlock spoke quietly. "It was only when his dad found out about us and flipped. I think his dad gave him a lesson on the evils of homosexuality and John's friends have always been bullies."

"Is that why you broke up; because of his dad?"

Sherlock nodded looking at his hands.

"I'm sorry," Sam said softly.

"Why are you sorry?" Sherlock asked confused. "You're the kindest person I've ever met."

Sam blushed brightly and ducked his head.

"So, I've told you about John and me," Sherlock said and put a hand on top of Sam's. "Will you tell me why you're hurt?"

Sam's eyes flooded with tears that rolled slowly and steadily down his cheeks. "My dad,"

Sam spoke so softly that Sherlock almost didn't hear it.

"Your dad did this to you?" Sherlock gasped. "Sam, I'm so sorry. I didn't realise."

Sherlock wrapped his arms loosely around his friend so as not to hurt him more. Sam shook in his arms and sobbed into Sherlock's shirt. Sherlock cupped Sam's cheek in his hand and wiped the tears away with his thumb. Slowly, Sherlock leaned towards Sam and pressed their lips gently together. Sam gripped Sherlock's wrist and practically froze as Sherlock help to guide him. Sam closed his eyes and tasted the peach lip balm that Sherlock was wearing on his lips. Sherlock pulled his lips away and rested their foreheads together.

"You are perfect, Sam." Sherlock spoke gently.

Sam pulled away and scrambled to his feet.

"I can't," Sam rasped. "That's not me and I'm not good for people. I'm sorry."

Sam hurried down the stairs, thanked Mrs Holmes and hurried out of the house without a backward glance.

It took Sam over half an hour to walk back home and it was ten minutes past his curfew. Mrs Holmes was meant to have given Sam a lift back home but Sam had left before she could say anything.

He stepped into the dark, quiet house and shut the door almost silently. As he walked towards the kitchen, he knew what was coming before it had even happened.

He stole a glance into the living room and saw his dad sitting there watching the door with his arms folded. Dean was crouched next to him with tear stained cheeks.

"Where were you?" John snarled still staring at his youngest son.

"I – I was at Sherlock's." Sam stuttered. "We overdid our homework. I – I didn't realise what time it was."

"Don't lie to me boy!" John roared and got to his feet.

Sam backed up against the wall. "I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again."

"You will be," John growled and gripped Sam's arm in a vice-like grip.

"Dad, stop it!" Dean shouted and tugged at his father's shoulder.

John swung around and hit Dean in the face causing him to fall to the floor.

"I will deal with your brother as I see fit," John glared at his oldest son before turning back to Sam. "You need to learn your place in this household and stop being a disobedient little shit."

Sam swallowed and bit his lip trying to hold back tears. "I'm sorry."

John shook his head and pulled Sam's shirt over his head.

"Dad, he said he was sorry!" Dean shouted knowing what was coming.

John then pulled Sam towards the radiator and secured him with a set of handcuffs. He then pulled his belt from the loops of his jeans and wound the end around his hand. Sam took a breath and braced himself for the lash of the buckle on his back. His teeth bit into his lip as he tried not to cry out. John continued to hit his son as silent tears rolled down both Sam's and Dean's faces. John then kicked Sam in the stomach before leaving to go to his own room.

Sam's body wracked with sobs as tears rolled down his cheeks.

"Sammy?" Dean crouched next to his brother, his hand hovering inches from his back as if Sam would break if he touched him.

Dean un-cuffed his kid brother from the radiator and grabbed the first aid kit from the kitchen.

"This is gonna hurt," Dean warned and gave Sam a chance to brace himself before he poured antiseptic over the welts on his back.

Sam whimpered and Dean's heart broke for the kid. He gently rubbed cream over Sam's back and dressed it.

"There we go kiddo." Dean soothed and held Sam in his arms.

Sam clutched Dean tightly and sobbed into his neck.

"It's okay, it's okay," Dean told Sam over and over running his hand through his hair.

They stayed like that until Sam had fallen asleep in Dean's arms. Dean lifted his younger brother and carried him to their room. He dressed Sam in some pyjama pants and left his top off. Dean then stayed awake with Sam until his eyes could stay open no longer.

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