Facing the Music

Summary: Sam might finally be ready to listen, to hear and to understand. But even if he's not, it's time to face the music. Abused!Dean.

AN: This is a companion piece to Wayward Son, however, you absolutely do not need to read Wayward Son to understand as most of the text from that onehsot will be included here. However, if you would like Bobby's insight and the full text of Bobby's 'planned speech' (as discussed in this chapter), go ahead and read Wayward Son.

Warnings: Child Abuse. Neglect. Rape/Sexual Abuse. (Nothings graphic, only discussion there-of).

Each chapter name comes from a song, beside it will be listed the artist. I do not own these songs or have any rights to them.

Short chapter - will update soon.

Chapter Two: Better Man (James Morrison)

Bobby opened his mouth to say more, but Dean's voice interrupted him before he could say anything.

"That's enough." Both men turned to look at Dean.

"Dean, he –"

"It's enough, Bobby. You made him cry. He's heard enough." Sam didn't notice until just then that his cheeks were wet with tears. His shoulders trembled uncontrollably. He couldn't think. He couldn't form a coherent thought, let alone a sentence. What could he say to Dean?

There was no way to make this better. There just wasn't. It wasn't going to get better. Their Dad – no John was always going to have abused Dean. Beat Dean. …raped him.

"De-" but he couldn't even finish his brother's name. It didn't feel right in his mouth anymore. He knew there was a better word. A better name. But it wouldn't come to his lips. He wasn't ready to say it, to call Dean…to call his brother…his father…

Dean stepped forward and wrapped an arm easily around Sam's shoulders, guiding him to his feet.

"C'mon buddy, let's get you cleaned up." This was Dean as Sam remembered him. Kind, soft, protective, but somehow all hard edges. His muscles a hard, but easy pillow, his arm a familiar guide. They walked into the kitchen together. Dean dampened a washcloth. Maybe, if it was any other day, if these were any other tears, Dean would have handed the washcloth to Sam so he could clean himself up. Today, Dean gently wiped away Sammy's tears and the salty tracks on his face.

"It's okay Sammy. It was a long time ago."

Sam just shook his head. "It's not okay, De- " Again the name got stuck in his throat. He couldn't call him that anymore. He understood, but could he accept it?

"It's okay Sammy. Whatever you wanna call me is a'okay with me. You got it?"

Sam shakily nodded his head. Here was Dean as he had always been - strong, comforting, untouchable - with Sammy falling apart. It should be the other way, Sam thought to himself. Sam should be taking care of Dean, holding him up for once. Dean had every right to fall apart now. But he hadn't.

"Sammy," Dean sighed softly, "It's alright. I've had a long time to ...process everything that happened. You haven't. It's okay."

"I - how. How could I have not known?"

"He was careful. I was careful."

And then. "Why didn't Bobby do anything? Why didn't he take you away? Keep you safe."

"He tried Sammy. He really did. He found out when - when you turned fifteen. It was my choice to stay."

"Why would you do that? Why?"

"I had to protect you, Sammy. It wasn't so bad then. He, uh, he liked me more when I was younger."

Sammy started to cry. Dean pulled him into his arms and rocked him back and forth, back and forth, humming softly under his breath.

"We're gonna be okay, Sammy. Everthing's alright." As Sammy calmed down, Dean led him upstairs and tucked him into bed as though Sam were no older than five. Tucking the blankets under Sam's chin and giving a kiss to his forehead, Dean calmed the worst turmoil in Sam.

Things weren't even close to good, but Dean would make sure that they were at least okay. Sam could always be sure of that.