Their dad coming home could take anywhere from hours to days and the weekend passed in a blur of heavy cleaning and physical training. Dean was never as tough on them as their Dad was but he did not take training lightly and Sam for once appreciated the destruction, almost reveling in the pain his not-quite-healed body manifested in during the grueling hours of work-out.
School started up again on Monday and Sam felt as though he was getting better at hiding his emotions away, Dean seemed less concerned and Sam felt a bit of pride in that. The schoolday passed in a blur with Sam once again spending lunch in the restroom, he knew by now that eating food would just be a mistake at this point. The few friends he had made took his solitude in stride and didn't bother him, and he tried to not let that knaw him. He didn't need friends or at least that's what he always told himself. He had Dean, or, he hoped he still did. "What would Dean say? What would he think if he found out? Found out I was just a fuck-boy" Sam shook his head, pushing the thoughs aside. Grateful his turning gut didn't have sustenance to knead as it rebelled against the thoughts.
He sat through Mr Simmons' class, the pit in his stomach growing, and he didn't even bother trying to take notes, just looked at his hands as Mr Simmon's lecture drowned into background noise, the man's voice coursing through him like electricity.
He didn't move as the bell rang and the class scattered out the door, and didn't look up as he felt the man's presence looming over him. Push it away
"Let's go Sammy"
Sam stood, eyes remaining unfocused and slowly made his way to the back of the room. He heard a small 'click' and knew that the door had been locked. He was trapped, no one would find him, Dean wouldn't come looking for a couple hours because of the 'mathalon' Sam was supposedly participating in.
A soft hand touched Sam's chin, tilting his head up. "I'll be gentle Sam." Mr Simmons smiled gently. "You are so beautiful, I promise I will take care of you."
Sam gave a small nod, hating the amount of comfort that he felt at the man's words.
"Won't you call me Sir?" The man placed a hand on Sam's back and guided him over towards the back of the classroom.
"Yes sir." Sam breathed, gagging at the bitter taste that left his mouth as he addressed the man in the same way he did his father.
"I like that." The man sat down on the chair and spread his legs. "You take care of me Sam, and I will take good care of you." At Sam's moment of hesitation the man added "I could always go to Dean-"
"No sir, I will handle it sir." Sam quickly responded as he slipped to his knees and undid the man's pants, pushed it away, focused, and Winchester dousn't let their emotions distract them.
Don't choke
No teeth
Breath
DON'T FUCKING CRY
Sam felt exhausted by the time Mr Simmon's pulled out.
"May I go Sir?" Sam asked, abused vocal cords making his voice crack.
Mr Simmons shook his head, breathing hard. "Not quite done with you yet boy, gonna need more before I'm satisfied."
Dread filled Sam as the man directed him on all fours, and leaned over on top of him like a blanket, hot stinky breath assaulting his neck.
"Just relax Sammy, just relax it'll be over soon."
Push it away
With shame consuming him Sam retreated in himself, he wasn't there, this wasn't happening, he was at a Mathalon, sitting in class with his friends going over normal geeky school problems. what's 12 times 46? That's 460 plus 92 so uh 552, easy stuff. Square root of 49? That's 7, also a prime number, largest two digits prime number? 97.
The man pulled out and Sam tried to ignore the spasms that wrecked his body, he would have collapsed to the ground had the man not had a hand around Sam's waist keeping him in place. He kissed his neck, whispering to him. Sam shook with exhausted tension, the smell of sweat and blood and sex and the man's cologne penitrating every sense of his body. He closed his eyes tight don't cry, Winchesters don't fucking cry.
Sam barely noticed as the man wiped Sam clean with some tissue and Sam moved automatically, standing as the man slipped Sam's clothes back on. Sam slipped to his desk and put his textbook in the backpack.
"Sam"
Sam turned, eyes cloudy with unshed tears, his breath still coming fast with pain and fear.
The man held out a needle. "It'll make it better, if you want it." His expression seemed so gentle, like he was offering food to a stray dog.
Sam blinked slowly, he wanted it, wanted the feeling of nothingness, wanted the pain to be gone, wanted to disappear.
but he didn't do drugs
"I won't make you Sammy, but it will help."
Sam shook his head and nearly ran out the door before he could change his mind and give into the weakness that seemed to be attacking from every angle, his bag flung over his shoulder as he slipped through the double doors and out the school.
Dean was sitting in the drivers seat, and seemed to be in a pretty good mood, probably because their Dad was going to be home soon. Sam closed his eyes and let the tension flow out of him, he could do this, he had to do this.
The Impala was sitting in the parking lot, and Dean was practically out the door before the engine was shut off, bursting through to greet his father. Sam eased himself out of the truck, pain causing him to gasp. He was nervous to see his father, feeling as though the man would know upon seeing Sam what he had become.
Their dad was sitting at the kitchen table as both him and Dean preformed the 'human' testing together, silver, holy water, red blood.
"Sam" Their dad looked up and grinned "Come here boy, gotta test you too"
Sam smiled, doing his best to fake the enthusiasm that was expected "Yes sir." He nearly gagged on the words as he splashed some water on himself and picked up the silver knife. The slice was small but the rush that Sam felt was real. Like all the emotions raging around him were stilled and he could breath fresh air just for a moment.
After the test was completed he was engulfed in a large hug and felt his smile turn genuine as he hugged back, resting in the place of comfort and security. Dean joined in, and as his brother touched him he felt the pain erupt from his back, and the shame engulf him and he was acutely aware of just how filthy he was and how, if he continued contact, his brother and father might just become as dirty as he was and then they would hate him and- Sam quickly slipped out from under the hug and, keeping sure to hide the shaking, smiled awkwardly at the pair.
"How was the hunt Dad?" Dean asked, as he slipped back into his chair. Sam followed, sitting next to Dean.
John relayed the abstract details of the hunt and Dean took in every word like gospel, Sam nodded along, enjoying the ecstasy radiating off his brother at having their Dad back, Dean was like a whole other person when their Dad was around, like he allowed himself to be a typical teenager instead of the parent substitute role he fell into when they were alone.
Sam excused himself and went to take the shower he desperately longed for. He made sure to remember a change of clothes as he slipped into the bathroom and didn't hesitate to undress and let the water wash over him. He imagined that with each drop that cascaded off his body it was taking just a bit, just a fraction of the shame and guilt and pain and filth that encased him in a hard unforgiving shell. The water trailed down his body, slipping off his fingers and nose, puddling at his feet before it was sucked down the drain. Sam knelt, and felt his hands start to shake, his breathing coming gagged and sharp, his chest feeling like it was about to explode. Was this how it was going to be from now on? Every day he would come home and feel so alone, so trapped, so fucking filthy he couldn't even stand his brother to touch him.
It was ok
It was ok because it had to be
Because if he wasn't strong enough he couldn't protect Dean
Dean who had protected him his entire fucking life and he could do this, just this one thing
Sure it was hell but it was just for a few months, after it was over
After they left
Sam closed his eyes, forcing his breathing to slow
After it was over Sam could be free, it would be alright because Dean wouldn't have to worry about himself if they were out of the town and Sam wouldn't have to live with the pain.
Sam stood and shut the shower off, he could hear his brother and father talking through the paper-thin walls.
"You boys do ok?"
"Yes Sir"
"Sam do ok?"
"I think so Sir."
"You Think so?" Their Dad's voice was strained
"He seems to have been in a bit of a mood, but I think it might just be normal teenage crap."
"Yeah well he needs to learn that the world doesn't revolve around him."
"Yes sir" Dean was quiet, Sam understood. Dean wanted to defend his brother but couldn't go against their father, it was an all -to -familiar scenario that unfortunately seemed to repeat itself often.
"You keep up your training?"
"Yes Sir"
"Good, I"ll be testing you both, if you were slacking I'll know it." Sam's stomach clenched tight at that one. He felt like absolute crap at the moment, and knew he wouldn't feel any better tomorrow. How was he going to survive their dad's harsh training?
"I got a job at the auto-body shop" Sam could tell Dean was trying to stay stoic but the excitement crept into his voice.
Their Dad grunted in return which caused a bit of anger to flare up in Sam, well and a bit was an understatement. Why couldn't their father be proud for one God-Damned second? Dean loved cars and he was damned good at fixing them up and he got a job despite his age and Sam wanted to run up and punch their Dad and yell and scream that Dean was there, Dean was there taking care of both of them and getting a job and going to school and-
Sam sighed and dressed, slipping out into the living area where his dad and brother sat silently, a beer in both their hands.
"I think I'm gonna grab a shower myself." John stood making his way through the tight hallway and bumping into Sam who stumbled to the side.
Sam swallowed down the lump in his throat at the sudden touch and shrugged it off. "I'm beat, gonna go to the room and do some homework before bed." He told Dean, and slipped into the bedroom before waiting for a reply.
Sam must have drifted off to sleep, he woke up his notebooks still spread about him and his father standing over the bed, his expression stern. Sam stood up to greet his father, standing at attention.
"Where's Dean?" Sam asked, rubbing his eyes, it was dark outside and he had no idea what time it was.
"Dean is grabbing some dinner." Their Dad answered, voice gravely. "I just finished up my shower and found this." He held up something and Sam had to fucus his eyes, trying to make out the lumpy cloth object his father displayed in front of his face.
And Icy cold slipped through Sam and his stomach seemed to incave upon itself as he realized what his father had found. How could he have been so stupid? He had forgotten the clothes, those clothes, from the first night that he had stuffed away in the bathroom. Even when deep cleaning the entire house Sam had forgotten.
"What is this Sam?" John took a step closer, and it was clear to Sam now that his expression was that of anger.
Sam shook his head, not knowing what to say, what could he say? He couldn't tell the truth, no matter how angry his dad was at him then it was nothing compared to what his dad would think if he found out
Failure
Weak
Pathetic
Disgusting
His Dad stepped closer and Sam could smell the alcohol on his breath. "Do you think I'm an idiot?" their dad growled. "You think I don't know what this means?" He threw the clothes on the floor with a 'thump'
Sam closed his eyes tight, shaking his head.
Can't breath
His head slammed into the wall as John threw him against it, arm pinning him at the chest, face inches away. "Answer me son." He growled.
I can't
I can't
You would hate me
Dean would get hurt
Sam couldn't find words, he stared, eyes wide, limbs trembling as the truth threatened to spill out and he didn't dare speak for the fear that he wouldn't be able to contain the secrets that were destroying him.
The door creaked open and both their heads turned to see Dean at the entrance, a brown paper take-out sack in his hands. He stood with puzzlement on his face as he took in the scene presented in front of him. "What's going on? Dad? Sam?"
Their Dad let go of Sam and Sam stayed frozen, fear that his father would betray him, would reveal all his secrets to Dean. It was this fear that drove Sam to clutch at his father's jacket, causing the man to turn towards him. Sam mouthed one simple word
'Please'
His hands shaking he begged his father with his eyes not to tell his brother, not to let his brother find out what he had become.
John ripped himself from Sam's grasp and stalked out of the room, shoving past Dean in his exit. Relief flooded through Sam and he slumped onto the bed as his legs gave way, he felt like crying. Dean must have sensed this as he was at Sam's side in a moment.
"Brother? What's wrong? Did Dad say something? You know you can't take it seriously when he's drunk, he just says shit, it's not personal." Dean did his best to comfort and Sam allowed it, not trusting his voice. "How bout we have some dinner?"
Sam nodded, though food sounds gross it was something he knew would help Dean feel better. Sam gave a small sime and reached for the take-out bag, assessing its contents.
He could do this
As long as Dean was there
As long as Dean never found out
AN:
Thank you so much everyone who reviewed and thank you all for your concern. It has been a hard past few weeks but your help keeping me motivated to write has been an amazing blessing.
Please do review and let me know how you feel about this chapter, it does mean a lot to me.