At the sound of a car pulling up outside, I glanced at the door before quickly turning to Sam.
"Go into the bedroom and hide." I stated, putting my hands on Sam's shoulders and leading him in the direction of the bedroom.
"No." Sam shook his head. "I can help, De."
I shook my head. "You can help me by being safe. Graham's drunk and you know what he's like when he's drunk."
Sam's eyes were filling with tears. "But what about you."
"You don't have to worry about me." Dean pushed Sam into the bedroom. "Go, quickly!"
Sam reluctantly ran off.
The door opened a few seconds later and Graham came stumbling in, half a whiskey bottle in one hand. He slammed the door closed behind him before walking over to me.
I could get drunk just off the scent of the alcohol that was on Graham's breath.
"Where's your brother? Where's the little shit?" He asked.
Graham's expression turned stern as he turned to face me. "Don't lie to me. Boy." He spoke in a threatening tone.
"I don't know. I promise." I answered.
"Oh, you promise?" Graham scoffed. "And what am I suppose to take from your 'promise'? This isn't the first time you've covered for the kid when he's snook out."
Sammy had never snuck out, that has been one of the many excuses I have given him for Sam's missing presence. I had been forced to find various places in the house in which to hide Sam when Graham was drunk, or just angry.
"I don't know where he is." I stated.
"You sure about that? Because I think he's here. Somewhere in the house."
"Now you're obviously not going to tell me where the little shit is hiding, but that doesn't matter. I'm gonna find him, and then give him what's coming to him too."
Growling in anger, I lashed out against him, attempting to land a punch on Graham.
Reacting instantly, Graham grabbed hold of the wrist I had swung and twisted it causing me to cry out in pain before pushing me backwards. Graham then grabbed hold of me by the hair and slammed my head hard against the wall.
My vision began to swim.
"Gah!" I moaned before a number of punches landed across my face and then I found myself falling to the ground as Graham had let go of me.
"I have had the decency to invite you into my home, and this is how you repay me. You are a lying, pathetic, manipulative little fuck."
"You're not exactly foster parent of the year yourself." I stated weakly as I tried to hold onto consciousness as the pain increased.
That got me a number of hard kicks in the stomach, winding me. I curled up into a ball in an attempt to shield my stomach from further blows by Graham's thick leather boots.
I was whimpering slightly now from the pain as I struggled to keep my eyes open. "Please..." My weak tone spoke.
"It's a bit late for that now!" Graham looked around. "Sammy!" He shouted. "Sammy!"
"Get yourself in here this instant, or I'm just gonna' keep hurting Dean."
Please don't be stupid enough to fall for this Sammy!
Silence. Good boy.
"Fine, you were warned." Graham stood over me before stomping down on my fingers.
"Ahh!" I screamed, reeling in my now throbbing fingers against my chest, tears raining down my cheeks.
"It's the other hand next, Sammy!" Graham shouted.
Suddenly, Sammy appeared in the doorway.
"No!..." My voice trailed off in silence as I closed my eyes.
"Ahh, Sammy." Graham turned to him with a smile. "There you are."
"Leave him alone..." I weakly stated. "You have me..."
"But do I? You're always going against me, never doing as I tell you."
"I'll listen..." I fought against the pain. "...just please...don't hurt him..."
Graham turned to Sam. "You hear that, Sammy. Big brother just saved you from a beating. Don't know why he bothered, you're hardly anything worth protecting." He then turned back to me. "But anyway, you lied, which means you need punished."
"No..." I moaned, tears continuing to stream down my cheeks. "No...please..." I begged pathetically, embarrassing even myself.
"No, you have to learn your lesson." Grabbing me harshly by the shoulder, Graham dragged me through into the spare room and threw me into the wardrobe.
"No..." I moaned. "No please..."
Graham closed the door and I heard the sound of it locking.
I weakly raised a hand and knocked against the wood of the wardrobe. "Let me out..."
"Not until you've learnt your lesson."
I was starving. I had been without food for six days straight because Graham had refused to feed me. He insisted that I needed to learn my lesson and the only way to do that was through punishment.
I could hear Sam crying gently from across the room.
"Sammy..." I called.
A sniffle could be heard before the sound of Sam walking over. He must have sat down with his back against the wardrobe because the door moved ever so slightly under the weight of something lying against it.
"I'm sorry, De..." Sam whimpered tearfully.
"It's okay, Sammy...It's not your fault." I reassured, resting my head against the door of the wardrobe, feeling closer to my little brother as I did so. "Where's Graham? He'll punish you too if he finds you in here talking to me."
"He went out." Sam answered before pausing. "Dean...I don't know how to help you." He admitted sadly. "I'm sorry...I've tried looking for the key, but I can't find it." He sniffled. "And I tried to sneak food but..." He stopped.
"Sam?" I asked gently, knowing that something must have happened.
"He caught me trying to sneak food." Sam stated.
"What did he do?" I knew instantly the reason why Sam had kept this from me. Graham had obviously hurt him, but he didn't want me to know that he was in fact hurt. Sam wouldn't have wanted to tell me because he must have thought I would have got annoyed about it. In his head, Sam saw me being beaten and locked in the wardrobe for the past few days and therefore didn't want to moan about his own pain. Oh Sammy...
"Sammy...please I'm not annoyed, I just want to know what he did." My tone was soft.
"Burnt me with water from the kettle..." Came a whimper.
My heart wrenched as I heard the broken tone that answered.
"Sammy..." I began sadly.
"It's okay...it doesn't really hurt anymore."
That didn't make me feel any better about the fact that I hadn't been there to protect him. Not only that, I hadn't even been there to patch him up and offer reassurance.
"Dean!" I felt someone shaking me. "Dean!"
I opened my eyes to see Sam sitting on the bed next to me. Yawning, I sat upright against the wall.
I could see Mary and John talking across the room. It was clear though at a second glance that they were in fact arguing over something.
"Sorry for waking you, I just didn't want to be awake with them when you weren't." Sam stated.
"It's okay, I don't mind." I smiled.
"De..." Sam began. "Are they really our parents?" He asked, glancing at them. "Cause our name's not Winchester."
"It is, that's our real name." I explained.
"So why do we have Harris then?"
"Because our first foster parents wanted us to have their surname. Something about owning us, you know what they were like."
"Insane." Sam added.
I nodded. "Mary and John are our parents names. Mom also had long blonde hair like Mary's."
"So they're definitely our parents?" Sam asked.
"I don't know for sure, but everything fits. I think they're less than convinced though."
"If you think they might be our parents, then why are you so angry?"
"They haven't been parents to us, Sammy. I'm not just gonna' let them off for ten years of abandoning us. I mean, they didn't even try to find us."
"But they think that their children died in a fire. Why would they look for them if they thought they were dead?"
"Whatever, I'm still pissed."
"So we're going back to the group home?" Sam asked in a small, sad tone.
I sighed and pulled him into a hug, wrapping my arms around him reassuringly. "I'm sorry, Sammy."
Mary and John turned around and walked over.
"Look kid, I'll be straight with you. There are a lot of things out there that you don't know about, and because of these things being out there, I need to do some tests on you both just to make sure." John explained.
"Tests?" I furrowed an eyebrow.
"Yeah. All you need to do is take a swig of this." He held up a metal hip flask. "And then I need to make a little cut on your arm with this." John picked up a silver knife.
"You're not cutting, Sammy." I stated sternly.
"Look kid..." John began but I cut him off.
"Dean! My name is Dean!" I shouted angrily. "Not kid or honey or sweetie, Dean!"
"Fine, Dean...you two can either do the tests, or I'm calling CPS." John stated.
"Fine, ring them." I retorted. "Then I'll tell them that you were threatening to cut us with that knife and trying to make us drink water that could be drugged."
"It's not drugged." Mary spoke up.
"I have been living on the streets long enough to know not to trust anyone, and especially not take a drink from some random guy." I stated.
"Yesterday you said that we were your parents." John followed up.
"Doesn't work like that. You have to act like them to get that title."
"So are you gonna' let me test you, or am I just gonna have to do it by force." John threatened.
"You know what, John, you can take your knife and your flask and shove it where the sun don't shine, cause' you're not cutting my brother." I said through gritted teeth.
"Then what about you?" John asked.
"What about me?"
"You said I couldn't test your brother, you said nothing about you."
I sighed. "If you test me, will you leave my brother out of this?"
"I won't cut him, but he still needs to drink some of this. I can promise you, it's not drugged."
I thought for a second, before nodding. "Fine." Picking up the flask, I took a drink finding that it was in fact just water. I then handed it to Sam.
Sam drank some too.
"Thank you." John took back the flask. "Roll up your sleeve." He picked up the knife.
With my sleeve rolled up, John made a small cut before a slight smile appeared.
"What? Why are you smiling?" I asked.
"You're all clear."
"For what?" I furrowed an eyebrow.
"Long story." He spoke, mirroring my words from last night before putting the knife away.
"You happy now then?" I spoke in an angered tone as I pulled down my sleeve.
"Ecstatic." John replied dryly.
Mary slowly walked closer. "Are you two hungry?" She asked softly.
I shook my head.
"Truthfully?" Mary clearly didn't believe me.
"Yes." Sam answered for me.
I turned to him with a warning look.
"Dean..." Sam began in a whisper. "You haven't eaten in ages."
"I'm fine..." I whispered back in response.
"No you're not." Sam argued.
Mary, obviously having overheard what Sam had whispered, looked so upset. "When was the last time you ate, Sweetie?"
Again with the sweetie!
"That's really none of your business, lady." I answered.
John turned round and walked over. "You need to learn some respect, kid."
"Oh I have respect, you just have to earn it."
"You see, Dean..." John emphasised my name. "...unlike my wife, I'm not fooled by this whole 'you're our parents' thing. If it wasn't for her, you would have been back with the CPS by now. She apparently sees something in you that I can't, because all I can see is a cocky, disrespectful, scrounging street kid who's playing us for every cent we have. So you better watch your mouth. It's Sir and Ma'am to you." He paused. "We've already let you stay the night, and we're gonna' buy you some food, you should be thankful enough for that."
"John..." Mary began.
"So what, in your heads, you think you're some kind of saints because you've done this for us." I scoffed. "You know what, you can forget the food, we're outta' here." I turned and walked over to Sam. Picking up the blanket and the duffel from the floor, I opened the door before wrapping an arm around Sam's shoulders and walking out the door, him in tow.