Their dad was gone that morning, Dean and Sam packed themselves up for school and Sam withdrew as the day passed, pushing every ounce of emotion so far down he quietly wondered if he would be able to reach it again. He exited the school building a shell. Dean pestered, trying almost desperately to get Sam to open but, and Sam almost did but the fear that gripped him closed around him like a gag, making all words die in his throat.
Their father returned that night, or rather early that morning, smelling like a distillery and barely able to get his key in the door. Dean took over, coaching their father to his bed before the 200lb man passed out. Dean tried to play it off, "Dad, soon as he gets a break he lets himself go" Dean laughed. Sam let him cover up the tension, shutting the lid of the coffin while the corpse continued to decay inside.
Just like what Sam was doing himself.
So the following days passed, Sam enduring the school days, exiting the building more lost, and Dean coaxing their dad into bed each night like a child.
Sam had refused the drug, but every day it grew more tempting to just let things fade away, to not have to feel the physical pain that never had the chance to heal, wounds reopening every other brutal day. The look the Dean gave him that made him want to tear his own God-Damned heart out.
He held out
For a whole school week he held out, taking a small sliver in the pride that he had survived, he was still alive.
When they returned home Friday night there was a note on the table, their Dad had left, no details just that he was 'gone for a few days doing research' Sam and Dean would have been concerned had it not been the sad normal. Dean decided to bury his disappointment in work, taking on long hours at the mechanic meaning Sam was dragged along to sit in the Impala for weeks ago this would have annoyed Sam to no end, now though Sam couldn't muster up the energy to care.
"Sam?"
Sam looked up from his textbook that was a facade of stability. Dean had the drivers door open, half in the car and concern evident in his features. Sam hadn't even heard him enter.
"Sam…" Dean sighed, pulling himself fully in the car. "Sammy listen, I don't know what's going on-"
"Nothing is going on" Sam immediately protested, the response robotic.
Dean held up a hand in the 'stop' motion. "Let me finish, please," please? That was not a word that Sam remembered ever leaving his brother's crude mouth. "Sammy I get you don't want to talk to me about things, I don't know why but I get it ok? But whatever you need from me, I'll do it, no questions asked, no explanation required, I'll do anything."
It wasn't just the pleading that got to Sam, that stabbed him right in the gut, it was the amount of trust that Dean placed in him. Dean knew in that moment that Dean was more honest and real than perhaps he had ever been, and his brother would do anything without explanation.
"Can we leave?" The words left Sam's lips before he could stop them, the sliver of light, the last drop of hope he had hung in the air.
"Sure buddy." Dean gave a half smile "Let's pick up dinner." Dean turned the key, the trucks engine rumbling to life.
"No." Sam followed through, the hope building strength. "Can we leave town?" His voice was perhaps the loudest it had been in weeks. He was sitting up, starting straight at Dean.
Dean blinked, hands falling from the wheel into his lap. "When Dad gets back we ca-"
"No," Sam shook his head, "Not when Dad gets back, as soon as possible."
Dean shook his head slowly, clearly torn between granting his brother's request and following their Dad's orders. "Sam I can't leave town without letting Dad know."
Sam slumped back into the seat, drained.
"As soon as he gets back or answers his phone, I swear we'll get out of here." Dean tried to mend the situation, desperation creeping back into his voice.
"I know" Sam tried to appease his brother be it half hearted "I know Dean, it's fine."
"If somethings going on at school I ca-"
"It doesn't matter" Sam mumbled, turning away and pressing his forehead against the window, letting the cool glass penetrate his crushed spirit.
Dean let out a sigh, then peeled out of the drive, and the night went on in silence. Sam had only ended up hurting Dean more, only ended up screwing everything up by opening his mouth.
The weekend was over as Monday morning came, no word from their dad. they packed themselves up for drive was silent, Dean didn't ask about the previous night and Sam didn't offer the information up. Sam didn't want to ever face their dad again, at least not sobor.
'I'm not stupid Sam, I know what this means."
Sam closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the cool window, it had started to drizzle and the glass fogged up where his warm flesh was pressed against it.
"Sam?" Sam looked up at his brother and only then did he realize they were in the school parking lot, the engine idling. "You know that if there are kids being assholes to you, you can tell me about it right? Even if you don't want me to do anything."
Disgusting
Sam shook the thought away and gave Dean a half smile before slipping out of the car. He could do this, at least for now, he could keep this secret and after they moved - Sam closed his eyes - after Dean was away from danger it wouldn't matter anymore.
Sam didn't remember any of the school day. He could hardly recall his lunch hour huddled in the bathroom, It didn't matter, none of it did. Not even the excruciating pain he experienced during the P.E. It wasn't even the running; it was the sit-ups afterward that made him run into the bathroom and puke up the breakfast he had forced down that morning. He had to check his underwear to make sure nothing had reopened. There was a small amount of blotching but he figured it was probably ok.
He sat through his last class, eyes cast downward. It was only when Mr Simmons knelt next to him that he knew the class was over.
"Sammy? Would you do something special for me today?" words said so gently, but the meaning so vile.
Sam nodded, not even looking up from his desk, before remembering. "Yes sir." He mumbled, mouth dry. He felt a black cloth be tired around his eyes. A blindfold, the pervert. Push it away. Don't panic. It's not like being able to see would stop anything.
"Don't worry, we won't do anything today." Sam felt a soft kiss on his neck and fought the instinct to pull away. Sam nodded, trying to steady his heart that was about to explode from his chest, and his breath that was coming in short, rapid pants.
With gentle reassurances the man directed Sam across the room, strong gentle hands guiding the boy. "Take your clothes off." he directed, and Sam obliged, starting to strip his shirt away.
There was a 'click' and he felt his body feel hot for a fraction of a second. A camera, and flash. Pictures. The panic that Sam had been barely holding at bay broke through and he reached for the blindfold. Mr Simmon's must have sensed this because the strong hands were back, grabbing at his wrists, holding him still.
"It's ok Sam." The gentle rumble of his voice soothed Sam's initial panic, though logic told Sam it ought not to. "It's ok, I just want to remember how special these moments are to me, my eyes only I promise you."
Sam closed his eyes tight under the blindfold, ignoring the liquid that was gathering at the ends of his lashes and being quickly absorbed into the fabric. You can do it, you have to do this, just this, just for now.
Sam relaxed his struggle and when Mr Simmons let go of his hands Sam reached again for the hem of his shirt, this time pulling it all the way off with shaky hands. There were more clicks and more flashes and Sam did his best to ignore them as he took his pants and boxes off, becoming completely unclothed and feeling more naked than he ever had.
The clicks stopped and Sam for a brief moment hoped it was over. He felt a hand on his, pulling his wrists together so they criss-crossed, then string being wrapped around. Not tight, he could escape if he tried, but enough for the panic to return. He held his struggles at bay but couldn't stop a soft whimper from escaping his lips.
"We'll be done soon Sammy." he felt lips press into his, and turned his head away. He was instructed to lie down, hands overhead and did so, the school alanolium freezing against his bare skin.
More flashes
More clicks
He changes poses upon instruction several more times, each one coming on with new embarrassment.
His last pose had him on his knees, hands bound behind his back, head tilted towards the camera.
"God Sam." the man panted, and Sam heard the sound of a belt being undone and pants falling to the floor. He tensed as the man shuffled towards him. "You drive me fucking carzy." The foul smell assaulted Sam's nose as the man thrusted towards him and Sam opened his mouth obediently.
In
Out
Don't choke
Breath
Don't cry
Breath
Push it away
Sam heard the door open with a thud, he tensed instantly, breath hitching.
"GET THE HELL OFF HIM." A voice shouted, a gravelly voice Sam was all too familiar with.
Mr Simmons was off him in an instant, a loud 'thud' echoing across the room as he was thrown against the wall. A tall figure looming over, pure refined hatred ruminating off him.
No
No this
This couldn't be happening
Sam scrambled away, pulling at his bindings, trying desperate to free himself.
Why
Did he mess up?
It wasn't supposed to go like this
There were audible punches being throw, Sam heard them as if he was underwater, sounds being muffled by his own thoughts that were loudly echoing over and over in his mind.
He can't know
He can't
Have to leave
Have to escape.
Sam got his hands free and quickly tore the blindfold off, eyes taking in the scene in front of him. His father, pummeling the teacher who was no longer standing, only being held up by the first clenched in his shirt collar.
Sam spotted his clothes, discarded on the ground from what seemed a lifetime ago. He crawled over and slipped his pants on, grabbing his shirt in his hands he ran, disregarding his bag, pushing the scene in front of him as far away as possible, he ran out the door, down the hallway, out the building and into the parking lot.
But Dean wasn't there
Dean wouldn't be there for a while, because Sam was supposed to be at the mathalon
Dean was at work, at his new job he was so damned proud of.
Sam paused only a moment before taking off again. He didn't care, didn't care that it was raining, didn't care that it was over a mile away to the mechanics, didn't care that home was closer, didn't care that his father was beating up his math teacher.
He ran only on instinct towards the safest spot he knew