This last hunt was haunting Sam. A child sex ring was involved. Kids were being kidnapped and sold to the Incubi for bizarre and unnatural acts. It sickened both hunters right down to their core. But him and Dean were able to gank the monsters and save what children they could. It was a small but wonderful victory, all the survivors went home to loving parents that would care for them and help them deal with what they went through. Dean went to the bar next to their motel to celebrate inviting Sam to come, but he just wanted to go back to the room and lie down. Dean went to the bar, picked up a hot chick and celebrated in her room. However, for Sam this brought back some really bad memories that he had pushed down, didn’t want to think about, but the harder he pushed the worse it got. He pulled out the whiskey, turned out the light, slouched in the poor excuse for a lounge chair and proceeded to get stinking drunk.
When Dean came in the room, he was about to turn on the light when he heard Sammy say “Don’t do that”. His tone was very dark, very sad and Dean could tell that Sam was very drunk.
“Sammy?” Dean asked with a very worried tone to his voice as he slowly came in the room and took off his jacket.
“What?” Sam said with a venomous tone to his voice.
“You okay?” Dean was definitely getting worried now. Sam had been dark and brooding in the past, but this, this was not like his Sammy.
“No, I’m not. I’m so far from being okay”. He said with slurred words and a voice full of pain. This was almost like the Sam just after Jess died, but different. Dean couldn’t put his finger on it, something was very, very wrong.
“You need to talk about something Sam?” Dean made his way over to the bed closer to the chair Sam was currently slouched in. Dean started to put his hand on Sam’s knee, but he flinched to the side, just a fraction, almost like he was afraid. Now Dean was starting to panic inside. Sam always let Dean comfort him.
“I don’t know if I can”. He looked right at Dean who could tell that Sam had been crying.
“Sammy, what is it? You thinkin’ about Jess?” Dean was on the verge of full blown panic.
“No, it’s not about Jess.”
Dammit, Sam was giving him the short answers and Dean knew right away this was bad, very, very bad. His eyes were misting up seeing his little brother in pain. Something had happened to Sam that Dean didn’t know about and he was afraid of the answer.
“Sammy, come on man, talk to me?” Dean gentled his tone and leaned in closer to his brother.
“It’s about this hunt. It just,” Sam stumbled on the words, voice thick with emotion and alcohol, “It brought back some bad memories”.
Now Dean was starting to get angry. Not at Sam, but he finally figured out that something had happened, something he didn’t want to think about happened to his Sammy. He tried to get his emotions under control because if he got angry now, Sam would close up and he would never find out.
“Sammy, you know you can tell me anything, I’m always there for you Sam”.
“Really Dean? You’re always there for me? Like the night I left for school? Do you remember that night?” Sam said angrily.
Now Dean was a little confused. Sam said it was the case that brought up bad memories yet Sam was talking about leaving for Stanford. “Of course I remember. You and Dad got into a horrible fight, you grabbed your stuff, boosted a car and left. I didn’t see you for weeks”.
“You don’t remember what happened right before Dad came back Dean?” Sam said darkly.
“What are you talking about Sam? What happened?” Dean was more scared than he’d ever been with his brother. There was anger, pain and some other emotion in Sam’s voice that he just couldn’t put his finger on.
Sam took another swig of whiskey right out of the bottle, “Do you remember when I came home that night? When you saw me in the shower?”
Dean tilted his head to look at his brother frowning hard like he was trying to understand what Sam was saying. Then it hit him, he didn’t know how he forgot. Dean had come back to the motel they had been at and found Sam curled up in the shower, head between his knees and crying. It took Dean forever to coax him out and saw his battered body. He had been trying to get Sam to calm down enough to tell him what happened when their Dad came in mad as hell. John had found out about Sam’s acceptance to Stanford. Dean had to help get Sam dressed and when they went to the bedroom John was full on angry. Dean was so worried about Sam and the bruises that before he knew it John and his brother were arguing and before Dean knew what was happening Sam was out the door and halfway down the street before Dean could stop him.
“Sammy, were you going to tell me something before Dad came in?”
Sam just shook his head yes and the pain in his eyes deepened. Dean was holding back his own emotions, he couldn’t break down now, Sam had to tell him, this was obviously eating the kid up.
“Sammy, Sammy, look at me what happened that night. Come on buddy, tell me, you know you can tell me anything”. Dean’s voice was thick with emotion.
“Dean,” Sam’s voice hitched and fresh tears threatened to fall. “I was out hustling that night.” Sam took another swig of whiskey and looked Dean in the eye.
Dean had to clear his throat before he asked, “Sam, you’re not talking about pool are you?”
Sam looked Dean in the eye, shame and fear shone through, “No.”
Dean threw his keys across the room. Dean had hustled a few times, only when money got bad and their Dad hadn’t come home for weeks, but he never knew Sammy did. This made Dean angry at himself at his Dad and at life in general.
“How many times Sammy?”
“How many times?” Dean asked with barely controlled rage.
“A few, I didn’t count. It was only when money got really bad and I never…..you know,” Dean understood that Sam never fucked a guy or let him get fucked. Sounded more like hand jobs and blow jobs, but even that much was too much for Dean to think about. His tears fell silently at what both of them had to resort to just to be able to eat or buy clothes, keep the roof over their heads, and to live.
“What happened Sam? Tell me, please,” Dean was all but begging. He didn’t want to know, but somehow he needed to know.
Sam knew this was the hardest thing he would ever tell his brother. “I was waiting around the corner for, you know, a John when these four guys,” Sam had to stop, he looked down at his feet, took another swig from the whiskey bottle, jaw working back and forth, “They jumped me, they tried to,” Another swig, “They tried to get my pants off me,” Dean’s breathing turned shallow and hard, his hand was over his eyes and tears streaming down his face while Sam continued, “They um, ahem, tried to, to um,” Sam swallowed hard as he tried to find the words, it took him a long moment before he could continue. Dean waited patiently not wanting Sam to finish that sentence. Head down and voice low Sam finally was able to say, “rape me”. Sam drained the bottle. He was full on crying now he couldn’t hold back his emotions anymore. “I um, fought hard. I got one off me then fought like I had been trained to do, I fought hard”. Sam took a moment, cleared his throat and continued, “ I was able to finally get away and I ran all the way back to the motel. You came in just a few minutes later and found me in the shower”. Sam’s head was swimming with whiskey and emotions.
“Sammy…Oh god,” Dean looked at his little brother and the only thing that went through his head was that he wasn’t there to protect Sammy, he wasn’t there. His breath was shallow and he felt like someone had shot him in the heart with a silver bullet.
“When you got there and helped me I was about to tell you when Dad came in. We had that fight and I needed to leave, I had to get out of there. I drove all the way to Palo Alto. I didn’t stop, not once. I checked into a motel and called Bobby.”
Dean’s jaw was quivering, those silent tears still fell when he suddenly got up from the bed and ran out of the motel room. Sam knew Dean wasn’t running from him, he knew Dean needed a moment.
With shaking hands Dean got his phone out and called Bobby.