No Ordinary Boys ~ Chapter 3
Chapter Three
It was still dark outside when Sam woke and he guessed he must have only been asleep for a few hours. Dean's arms were still tightly wrapping him in a cocoon of safety and Sam was just going to snuggle back down to sleep, but then he caught sight of Dean's face and froze.
Dean's face was wet. Sam felt his breath catch in his throat, his brother was crying. Dean was still asleep but tears were slowly falling from his closed eyelids.
"Don't cry, De," Sam whispered, reaching out to gently wipe away the salty tracks. "It's gonna be okay." Dean rarely cried when he was awake, but Sam had woken a quite a few times to find Dean crying in his sleep, and each time made Sam's heart feel like it might shatter.
Sam looked his brother over and frowned. Dean didn't look good at all. He was pale and the dark circles under his eyes were a horrible deep purple colour. Sam was still worried that Dean hadn't eaten anything at dinner. Dean needed to eat. At his uncle's they were hardly given any food and when they were fed, Dean would usually give Sam most of whatever he had.
Dean's forehead suddenly scrunched up in what looked like pain or fear. Sam didn't like either option. "Shhh, Dean." He softly tried to stroke the worry lines away. "Don't worry. I'm going to take care of you."
Carefully, Sam disentangled himself from his brother's hold and left the bed. He padded over to the door, placing his ear to it and listening for any noise that could indicate that John and Mary were awake. Not hearing anything he tried the doorknob, letting out of sigh of relief when he found the door was unlocked.
"I won't be long, Dean," he whispered at his brother's sleeping form, before slipping quietly from the room.
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Moving as silently as he could, Sam made his way downstairs and into the kitchen. He knew what he was doing was extremely risky, and he could feel his heart hammering in chest but he had to do this. From the way Dean was sleeping, he knew his brother would be waking up soon and Sam wanted to make sure he had something to eat.
He opened the fridge door and peered curiously inside. He had to be sure not to take anything that would be easy for the Winchesters to miss. Sam knew if he got caught he would end up being really badly punished. He couldn't help remembering the three days of punishment he'd received when he'd been caught trying to sneak some food at his uncle's. Not even Dean had been able to protect him that time, he'd tried though and Sam could still hear his brother's broken voice as he begged his uncle to stop. Sam shivered at the memory and desperately tried to push the fear down.
Sam smiled when he spotted the peanut butter. It was Dean's favourite. He was always telling Sam stories about how their mom had made the best peanut butter and jelly sandwiches in the whole world. The peanut butter was in a jar too, which meant John and Mary might not notice if some went missing.
He gathered what he needed to the make the sandwich and put the supplies down on the kitchen table. He would be quick. He'd make Dean the sandwich, wash the knife he used, wipe down the kitchen table and put everything back exactly where he had found it. Everything would be fine, no one would ever know he'd been here and Dean would have something to eat.
"Sam?"
Sam flinched violently, the knife he was holding clattering to the floor. John was standing in the doorway, frowning. Terror flooded through Sam's body, his mind stuck on a continuous chant of 'Oh god, oh god, oh god.' He immediately started backing away, shaking his head frantically.
John looked from the half made sandwich on the table to Sam, and he winced at the look of pure fear on the boy's face. "Sam, what's going on?" He took a step towards him and Sam instantly scrambled further away from him, whimpering when his back collided with the fridge.
John raised his hands in a placating gesture. "Whoa. Easy there, kiddo. It's okay."
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
John felt his heart twist at the desperate sound of Sam's voice. "It's okay, Sam. Everything's alright." John once more glanced at the abandoned food on the table. "Were you hungry, buddy?"
"I...I...sorry...I'm sorry..." Sam started panting harshly and when John took another step closer, he let out a mewl of terror. His eyes darted around room, looking for a means of escape but John was blocking the only route to door, leaving him trapped.
"Sam, you need to calm down, okay? Everything's fine. You haven't done anything wrong. It's okay if you were hungry. If you want something to eat, you can have it. No one's mad. No one's going to hurt you." John kept his voice as low and soothing as he could.
Sam tried to call out for his brother but he couldn't seem to draw in enough air, and all that came out was distressed whines and whimpers.
John's eyebrows drew together in serious concern at Sam's stuttered breathing. "Sam, you gotta breathe, bud. Just relax and..."
"Get away from him."
John swung round to see Dean stood in the doorway. The teen's hands were curled into fists, his jaw clenched in anger and when John met his eyes, Dean's gaze was hard and furious.
Even through his terror, Sam recognised the sound of Dean's voice and he instinctively tried to move towards it, but his legs felt like jelly and he stumbled, unable to make it more than a few steps before his legs were giving way beneath him.
John reacted quickly, reaching out to grab a hold of Sam's arms to prevent him from crumbling to floor, and that's when Sam lost it.
Sam could no longer see John. In his mind, it was his uncle's hands that were grabbing him. Any second now he was going to be dragged up to 'that' room and he would been tied to the bed, unable to move as his uncle rained blow after blow down on his body. He could already hear the sound of belt as it cut through the air; feel the pain as it tore through his skin.
"Sammy!"
John didn't think he'd ever seen anyone move so fast. He barely had time to blink before a now thrashing Sam was pulled out of his arms and cocooned in his brother's. Dean moved them over to the corner of the room, lowering them both the floor so that they were kneeling face to face, their forehead's touching. Sam was making harsh gasping noises as he shook in his brother's arms.
"Sammy? Sam, its okay. It's me, it's Dean. You're okay, Sammy. I'm here now. Can you hear me?" Dean pulled one of Sam's trembling hands to his own chest. "Sam, you gotta slow your breathing down. Can you feel that?" Dean pressed Sam's hand more firmly against him, so he could feel the rise and fall of his chest. "Focus on my breathing, Sam. C'mon, Sammy, you can do it. Breathe with me, kiddo. In and out. In and out."
Slowly, Sam began responding to his brother's instructions and he was able to suck in some much needed air. "De...please...don't let Mick...De..." he panted, fisting his hand into the fabric of Dean's shirt.
"Shhh, Sammy. You're safe. Mick's not here. You're safe. I'm here and nothing is going to hurt you. Just breathe, Sam. Just breathe, Shhh." Dean curled one his hands around the nape of Sam's neck, rubbing the skin there soothingly.
"That's it, kiddo. Breathe," Dean encouraged.
John watched the scene in front of him with a mixture of horror and sadness. As Sam began to calm, John made a move towards them. "Dean?"
Dean felt Sam stiffen at the sound of John's voice, and Dean's lips curled up into a snarl. "Stay back." Once John stopped his approach, Dean turned his focus back to his brother. "Sammy? You back with me, little brother?"
Sam nodded, taking comfort in the feel of Dean's heartbeat beneath his hand.
"What happened, Sammy?"
Sam took a deep breath, letting it out shakily. "I just...I just wanted to make you a sandwich," he sniffled. "I'm sorry, De."
Dean's eyes briefly glanced over at the items on the table. "Oh Sammy," he breathed.
"I'm sorry."
"It's okay, buddy." Dean's squeezed the back of his neck reassuringly. "I'll take care of it, alright? You think you can make it back up to the bedroom?"
Sam's gaze momentarily flickered fearfully over to John. "But..."
"It's fine, Sam." Dean helped his brother back to his feet. "You just go on upstairs and I'll be up in a minute, okay?"
Sam didn't move for a few moments. He knew what Dean was doing. He was sending Sam out of the way so that John would take his anger out on Dean instead, but this was Sam's mistake and as frightened as he was, he didn't want Dean getting hurt because of him.
"Sam, please," Dean whispered. "I need you to go back upstairs for me."
Sam hesitated but finally nodded and did as Dean asked. Dean sighed in relief before turning to face John. "Listen, whatever happened, none of it is Sam's fault, okay? It's mine and if you're gonna punish anyone, it's gonna be me. You don't touch him, got it?"
John shook his head sadly. "Dean..."
"Look, you can do whatever you want to me, okay? I won't fight you but you leave Sam alone."
Dean was stood in front of him, his expression blank and his voice monotone but John could see the minute shivers going across his body, he could see the hidden fear in the kid's eyes. "I'm not going to do anything to either of you, Dean. I'm not going to hurt you or Sam, alright? I never would. I promise."
Dean snorted in disbelief. "Yeah, right."
"I know you don't trust me and I understand that..."
"You understand nothing!" Dean snapped.
John sighed, his expression full of sadness and sympathy. "You're right, I don't understand what you or Sam have been through, but Dean please believe me when I say that you are both safe here. No one is going to be punished for wanting something to eat. You can eat whenever you like here, alright?"
Dean remained silent, his head down.
"Are you hungry, Dean? Did you want something to eat?"
"No," Dean replied automatically.
"Are you sure? Sam was making that sandwich for you. He must have thought you were hungry," John said, gently.
"Well I'm not."
John knew he was lying, that for some reason Dean was afraid to eat. "Dean. I know you're hungry, kid. Why don't you want to eat?"
Dean ignored the question and shuffled awkwardly on his feet. "Can I go see Sam now?"
John ran a hand tiredly over his face, he wanted to get an answer but he knew that it wasn't the right time to push. "Sure Dean. You two try and get some more sleep, okay? We'll talk some more in the morning, alright?"
"Terrific," Dean grumbled and he quickly made his way out of the room, leaving John to clean up in the kitchen.
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Dean walked back into the bedroom and found Sam curled up in a ball in the corner of the room, his whole body shaking as he chewed anxiously on his fingernails.
"Dean!" Sam shot up when he saw his brother, rushing to his side. "Are you okay? You hurt?"
Dean shook his head, giving Sam a small smile to reassure him. "I'm alright, Sammy. Nothing happened."
Sam wrapped his arms tightly around Dean. "Thank god."
Dean sighed, hugging his brother close to him. "Sam, what did you think you were doing, man? Sneaking off like that?"
"I'm sorry, Dean. I just wanted to get you something to eat," Sam replied, his voice muffled by Dean's shirt.
"Do you know how worried I was when I woke up and you weren't there?" Dean scolded. "I don't even know why you would risk taking food like that, Sam. I mean you can't even eat the food that you are given unless someone tells you it's okay to do it."
It was true. Ever since his uncle punished him for stealing food that one time, Sam refused to eat unless someone gave him permission.
"I wasn't taking it for me. I was taking it for you," mumbled Sam into Dean's shoulder.
"Sam," Dean sighed. "You didn't have to do that for me." Dean knew how frightened his brother must have been. Sam was terrified to eat anything without permission, yet he had still tried to take food because he thought Dean needed it.
"I just wanted to do something to help you feel better."
"I'm fine, Sammy."
Sam shifted uneasily in his arms and he pulled back a little so he could see Dean's face. "You were crying."
Dean furrowed his brow in confusion. "What?"
"In your sleep," Sam admitted, his voice quiet. "You were crying in your sleep, Dean, and I just wanted to make you feel better."
Dean closed his eyes and gathered Sam back to him, tucking Sam's head under his chin. "I'm sorry, Sammy."
"What for?"
"For making you feel like you had to take such a risk just to help me."
Sam sighed, moving out of his brother's embrace to sit on the bed. "It's not your fault, Dean. I wanted to do it. I wanted to try and do something to make it up to you."
Dean was confused again. "Make it up to me? Sam, what are talking about?"
"All this is my fault, Dean. Everything you've been through, everything's that's happened to you, it's because of me." Sam felt tears prickling in his eyes. "Because I'm evil."
"Sam, stop that." Dean demanded, firmly. He hated it when is little brother spoke about himself like that. "You're not evil, Sam. There's nothing evil about you."
"Dad said I am. He said I killed Mom," Sam mumbled, hanging his head.
"Yeah, well dad's a drunk, abusive asshole who doesn't know what he's talking about!" Dean snapped, immediately softening his voice when he saw Sam flinch at his tone. "You're not evil Sammy, and Mom dying was not your fault."
Sam looked back up at his brother. "But I'm not normal, Dean. We both know that."
Dean sighed, slumping down besides him on the bed. "Maybe not, but that doesn't make you evil. You don't have a bad bone in your body, Sam." He placed a affectionate kiss on the top of his head. "You're not evil. You're my pain in the ass little brother and I'm never going to let anything happen to you."
Sam sighed, resting his head on Dean's shoulder. "I'm tired."
Dean smiled. "Let's get you some more sleep then, kiddo." He pulled his brother down in the bed with him, tucking the covers around them. "And this time no sneaking off while I'm still asleep."
"Kay, Dean. I promise."
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Mary blinked her eyes awake, turning over to face John when she felt him slip into the bed. "John?"
"Yeah, sweetheart. It's just me. Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you up," he whispered, kissing her forehead.
"Everything alright?" she asked, sleepily.
"It's fine. The boys just woke up, that's all."
Mary was instantly alert. "They okay?"
John smiled softly. "Shhh, they're fine, baby. They're both back in bed now. I'll explain everything in the morning, just go back to sleep, okay?"
John put his arms around Mary as she nodded and snuggled into his embrace. He ran his hands gently through her hair, soothing her back to sleep. It was a while before John was able to fall back asleep. He lay awake thinking about the two boys in the next room. The Winchesters had fostered a lot of children, and cared for a lot of traumatised kids with numerous problems, but Dean and Sam had to be worst case John had seen. They were both just so broken and John worried if he and Mary would be able handle looking after them. That didn't mean he wasn't going to try, there was no way he was going to give up on either of them. He just hoped that he could find a way to help them and that they weren't broken beyond repair.
Chapter 4