Feel
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It had been another hunt that John had not allowed his boys on, actually it resulted in him and Sam yelling at each other.
In the end Sam was happy that his dad had left them alone, he didn’t like having their father around, he and Dean had had more fun when they were alone. Dean never payed much attention to Sam when John was home, it was always about Sam, listen to dad or Sam, why are you being such a dick to dad? He never sided with Sam.
“Come on Sammy! It’s on!” Dean yelled from the couch, turning up some random trashy show.
“I’m doing my homework, shut up!” Sam shouted back, with a laugh. He had almost finished but he didn’t want Dean to think that he would just drop everything he was doing and run to join his brother. And if he did, he was obviously high.
“You’re still doing that HOMO-work? I thought you were boy-genius? Jeez you take your fucking time!” Dean laughed.
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Sam came back to their little apartment after his last day of semester. Sam ran inside and threw his bag down and dropped onto his bed with a heavy sigh. Even though they had a little unit, Sam and Dean still had to share a room. But it was cool to have neighbours and a front yard with grass and stuff.
“Have fun?” Dean asked coming out from the bathroom, and sitting on the opposite bed.
Sam rolled his head over and looked at his brother. “Eh, school was school. Pretty happy that I’m not going to spend my holidays in the car, listening to you and dad talk about what is best for killing werewolves or something.” Sam smiled and Dean rolled his eyes.
“Hey, I reckon I’m going to go for a walk”
“You alright, Sammy?”
Sam shrugged “yeah I’m fine, I just want to go out, you know explore the neighbourhood”
Dean nodded smirking.
As Sam left Dean laid back on his bed, he felt sorry for Sam, this is the type of thing that Sam had always wanted and yet, he could never have it because of their father, and sometimes Dean even wished that he had the whole apple-pie American family thing, but of course he would NEVER admit that to anyone. Dean knew this was his life and he could do nothing to change that, so he may as well hang on and enjoy the ride.
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As Sam walked down their street, he heard little kids laughing and yelling and he looked over to see a little boy, maybe 4 or 5 playing chasey with his dad. Sam smiled and started to imagine him and his father doing something along those lines, as his thoughts took over, Sam didn’t even realise when tears started spilling over.
“Fuck!” Sam said as he wiped the moisture away.
Sam reached the end of the street and turned back. As he neared his little unit he noticed a middle aged man, maybe late thirties, early forties, trying to work out his lawn-mower.
“Hey, do you need some help?” Sam suggested crossing the grass.
The man looked up, slightly aggravated, but as soon as his eyes met Sam’s, his expression softened.
“You think you can work this god-forsaken thing?” he smiled.
“I can give it a shot”
As Sam bent over and checked the adjustments the man stood up and observed.
Then with one last tug of the string the mower roared to life, Sam smiled triumphantly pushing the machine up and back through the rebellious grass and the man stood there amazed.
“Wow, aren’t you good at that? Say, I’ve been looking for someone to help me with chores and stuff around the house. Do you wanna... help me? I’ll pay you of course, Heh, I'm not running some kind of sweat shop” he laughed leaning against his unit wall.
Sam considered it for a second, the money his father had left was running very thin and it was beginning to worry Dean. He wanted to help out, town after town, time after time, Sam had watched his brother go out to countless bars and hustle pool when the money had run out.
Sam would be glad to help out with the problem.
“Errm, yeah, that actually would be great.” Sam said continuing to push the law-mower around the yard.
The man smiled, “oh, how rude of me, I’m Dave” he held out his hand for Sam to shake.
“I’m Sam” Sam shook the man’s hand and wiped his sweating face.
“Do you want a drink? You’re doing such a good job and it looks like its wearing you out”
Sam nodded and the man disappeared inside.
When Dave came back Sam was three quarters done and he switched off the machine and took the drink with a heavy sigh and took a large gulp.
Sam finished the drink and finished the lawn.
“Hey Dave, I’m done” Sam was sweating profusely not that it was wearing him out; it was because of the hideous sun that was beating down on him.
Dave fished around in his pocket and pulled out a twenty and put it into Sam’s hand. Sam looked up in astonishment.
“Oh, um, Dave this is way too much.”
“Sam, don't, I know how much I gave you, and it was on purpose. I want you to have it.”
Sam smiled and tucked it away in his pocket. After saying thank you and goodbye Sam walked back to his apartment to find Dean lying on the couch.
“Dude, where have you been, you missed some sweet bikini contest...” Dean trailed off as he began to bring back the images and smiled.
Sam just shook his head, typical Dean.
“Um I was next door; the guy there offered me a job, just helping him with chores around the house and stuff.”
“What did you say?” Dean said, swivelling around into a sitting position.
“I said I’d do it, I know we’re low on money and...”
“Sam, it’s not your job to get the money, its mine, I’m supposed to look after you.” Dean started getting strangely upset.
“Dean, what’s wrong?”
“Sam, I don't want you having to worry about money” Dean stood up and walked toward his brother.
“Well too bad, I do worry about the money. But I don't understand why you can’t let me help, I use it too, I eat and I need clothes and I know that you skip meals so I can have one more. Dean I’m sick of taking it all and leaving you with nothing, let me give back to you, please! let me work for my share.”
“Sam, dad told me to look after you, not the other way around, it’s not your job to take care of me!”
“Why not?”
“Because I fucking said so, alright?”
“I know, because your ego is so fucking big that you won’t let yourself accept help, you won’t let me help you, even after all the times you’ve looked after me. Let me try and look after you. For once, Dean... please” Sam whimpered the last word, trying to get through to his brother, but he didn’t accept it.
Dean pushed past Sam and went into their room and slammed the door.
Sam didn’t let Dean just walk away from their conversation so he followed him.
“Why can’t you just let me look after you?” there was a long pause “Is it because you feel dad set you one job to do, and if I take that job away, maybe, you feel as though you have nothing to do, nothing that dad can be proud of you for. If you don’t look after me, you feel...” Sam hesitated “useless...”
Dean spun around on his heels and looked at Sam, “don't fucking psycho-analyse me, you don't know me” Dean didn’t think about his words before they were falling uncontrollably past his mouth.
“I don't know you, heh, are you serious? I'm the only person in this entire world who does know you, I know you better than our own father.”
With a heavy sigh, and the realization that he wasn’t going to get through to Dean, Sam walked out of their room and out of the house.
He sat on the porch for a while watching the stars gradually fade in, this was the time that made Sam feel so insignificant, so... small.
“Sam, I’m sorry.”
Sam turned his head and found his brother standing behind him, leaning on the door frame.
“No man, I'm sorry, I shouldn’t have...”
“Shouldn’t have what? Sam, you were... you were right...” Dean closed his eyes, took a deep breath and looked up at the darkening sky. “About everything, dad, and everything.”
Sam was amazed; Dean had never admitted Sam was right before, he was always to stubborn. “Dean, I'm sorry, what I said...”
“Sam, I said you were right...”
“I know, but...”
“Sam, don't, alright, can we just end this? I’m...” Dean gulped “glad you got yourself a job. Hell, at least its honest money.”
Sam smiled and Dean disappeared for a moment before coming back with 2 beers and handing one to his brother.
“Shhh... don't tell dad” Dean winked with a smile spreading over his face, lifting the beer up to his lips.
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The next day Sam went over to Dave’s house to help with some blown bulbs.
As Sam finished with the last light, he lost his footing and fell off the 4 step ladder, crashing to the floor and landing awkwardly on his leg making him howl with pain.
“Oh god! Sam! Are you okay?” Dave yelled.
Sam hissed and held his ankle.
Dave hooked his arm around Sam’s back, lifting him up and carried him as carefully as he could to a couch and then rushed off to get an ice pack.
“Are you okay Sam?” Dave asked putting the pack on his foot.
Sam winced and tried to stay as calm as possible, he had suffered broken arms, bullet wounds and one time Dean had to pull a Bowen arrow from his ass. (Which Dean didn’t let him forget for months)
Dave sat on the couch and pulled Sam’s leg up onto his lap elevating it. “Is this okay?”
Sam nodded, and then suddenly Dave was lightly massaging his foot and ankle.
Sam narrowed his eyes, okay, this was a bit creepy but it was helping, after a minute Sam noticed Dave started working his way up his pant leg and was lightly caressing the soft hair that darkened the skin.
“Um, I think I should go home, you know, rest up...” Sam said getting up.
“Yeah good idea, if you’re better by tomorrow, I have some weeds that need pulling, among other things...” Dave stood up with him and when he shook his hand Sam looked down and noticed Dave was a little happier then he was really letting on. When Sam pulled his hand away he found he had a twenty and a ten crumpled in his hand.
Sam limped home, slightly sick but as he opened the door he gritted his teeth and straightened his posture. He walked through the door, and noticed Dean had tried cooking; the unique smell of steak filled the apartment.
“Dean what's this?” Sam said seeing Dean set the little table and placing down two plates.
“Well considering that we’re both earning money, I thought we could splurge on something, well special” Dean smiled.
During dinner they chatted and laughed and joked and reminisced about earlier days.
Sam regretted going to work the next day, something about Dave really creeped him out. But after a long day of weeding Dave offered him a drink and Sam accepted it.
By the time he had finished it he felt strange, his arms felt heavier, his legs felt weak and everything began falling into a dark pit.
“Sam, Sam? Are you okay? Do you want to lie down?” Dave’s voice was distorted and slow.
Sam didn’t know if he responded or not because the next thing he knew he woke up in a strange room. He looked around and saw Dave getting up and putting his boxers on. Freaking out, Sam looked down and noticed he was covered in a sheet. He looked underneath and found he had nothing on.
When Sam got up, he grimaced; he had a very strange burn in his ass.
“What the fuck did you do to me?” Sam growled.
“All I did was tell you to lie down, you kissed me and you took my shirt off and then you...” he trailed and then laughed biting his lip. “You know kid, you have one talented little mouth...” he leaned down and took Sam’s face between his hands and kissed him roughly.
He laughed again and basically threw Sam’s head back, the sound of the laugh made Sam feel like he was going to throw up. “You’re such a little slut...” he threw three fifty dollar bills onto Sam’s chest.
Dave left the room and Sam unwrapped himself from the sheet. He wasn’t sure what had happened, he didn’t know if Dave spoke the truth. He quickly got dressed and walked back home. But this time he didn’t find Dean like last time, hell he didn’t even know what the time was, all he knew was that he desperately wanted a shower but as he entered the bathroom, he looked at the toilet and rushed over, spilling his stomach into the bowl.
He wanted to cry and scream and kill the guy, but he didn’t know if he deserved to be killed, maybe he had forced himself onto Dave.
As he got into the shower he ran the water as hot as he thought his skin could take.
As the scorching water ran down his body, Sam let out a bellowing, heart-wrenching scream. He had never felt so wrong, ever.
He felt horribly sick and he wanted to shed this dirty skin that was wrapped around him. He wanted to do anything possible to make himself feel clean again. And that’s when he allowed the previous tears to free-fall. He was so angry and disgusted with himself. He wanted his first time like that to be with someone he cared about, someone he loved and someone he would do anything for and that was when his brain unleashed the thought, he wanted to be with Dean, he wanted to be wrapped in Deans arms and he wanted to be told that he was loved...by Dean.
He felt his heart cracking, right down the middle and that’s when he let his hand fly through the air, hitting the tiles. He yelled out again and gripped his hand.
Sam finally got out of the shower and looked at himself in the mirror...
Such a talented little mouth....
He shook his head violently, the words echoed around inside and he had never wanted to end his life more than that moment right then. Maybe hold his head under the bathtub for a little too long, or maybe take a cheap motel razor to his wrists or even lay on some train tracks... maybe then, it would make all the voices go away, maybe it would stop his love for his brother and maybe he could finally get the suitable punishment that he felt he needed.
Then he found a bite mark on his shoulder, inflamed and red. He stomach flipped at another painful reminder. He inspected his body for anymore marks, when he turned around and looked at his back in the mirror he found that he had long nail marks trailing down.
That time he did throw up.
He went into his room and pulled on some track pants and a t-shirt and then he heard the front door open and close.
“Sam? You home?”
Sam shuddered at the sound of his brother’s voice and he didn’t know why.
Dean came into their room and found Sam sitting on the edge of his bed, staring into space, his hair releasing little droplets of water down his long face.
“Sammy, are you okay? What's wrong?”
Sam didn’t answer, all of his words felt caught in his throat and he was scared that if spoke, he would start crying again. So he didn’t allow them to come out. He continued staring in silence.
“Sam please, come on talk to me” Dean tried to touch Sam on the shoulder but as he moved closer Sam flinched away with a whimper.
“Sam, come on man, you’re scaring me” at that exact moment Sam could hear the vulnerability in his brother’s voice, he was honestly scared. But still he just wanted to close his eyes and make it all go away.
“Dean, I just want to...” Sam sniffed “I just want to go to sleep, okay?”
“Yeah, okay Sam, but we’re going to talk tomorrow, okay?”
Sam didn’t answer; he didn’t want to, he didn’t want to promise anything to Dean. He let his back fall onto the mattress and he tried to fall asleep.
Hands everywhere, groping, touching, rubbing, squeezing.
Breathing ragged, panting, gasping, moaning.
Word Sam didn’t even, couldn’t even understand and when he did, he wished he didn’t.
“NO!” When Sam realized where he was, he was already sitting up.
Dean jumped out of bed and was instantly at Sam’s side but again as Dean reached out to touch Sam, he shied away.
Sam got out of bed and silently walked to the bathroom, shed his clothes and got into the shower again, this time he made the water hotter than last time, he felt numb somehow. Like every nerve in his body were slowly dying. He raised his hands up into his hair and pulled violently at the strands, again trying feel something, anything even if it was pain. It was better than nothing.
After 30 minutes of being under the blazing shower, Sam looked down at his reddening skin and thought that he should get out. He looked at himself in the mirror once more and the voices came back and so did the thoughts about the sweet end that maybe he could give himself. But for the first time he thought about Dean, how Dean would feel if he was gone and he was left alone and Sam felt his heart ache, like it was being squeezed with a rubber band being pulled way to tight.
Sam went into the room where Dean was staring at him.
He didn’t want to ask why, because that would require talking and then more questions, no, he was just going to go and get some water. Maybe he could cleanse his insides.
He went to the refrigerator, out of habit and looked at all the food, he asked himself if he was hungry and got a straight no. He didn’t want to eat, he just wanted to... actually he didn’t know what he wanted to do.
“Sam, come on. Talk to me” Dean pleaded from the doorway “I’m not going to admit this to anyone else but you’re really scaring me.” Sam just stared at him like he was speaking German or something.
After a few minutes of silence, Dean gave up.
“Fine you’re gonna be stubborn? I don't care! I tried” he walked into the bathroom and Sam sighed. He successfully avoided more questions.
He scribbled on a blank sheet of paper that he was going for a walk.
For weeks he spoke as little as possible, not letting Dean in on anything that was running through his head, indulging in half an hour searing showers and taking nightly walks.
Then Sam’s actions began getting him in more trouble...
One time especially, Sam went for his walk like usual but this time as he walked past Dave’s house and saw him standing in the door way and he waved at Sam with a nauseating smile.
Sam dry retched as memories came back to him. Every night from that horrible day Sam had been getting little flash backs in his dreams about what had happened.
Sam had gotten some random guy to go and buy him a six pack of beer with the last of the money that Dave had given him. After he finished them all in a very short amount of time Sam stumbled into an alley way and found a group of big guys. He stood there staring and smiling deviously.
“What do you want fucker?” one of them called out.
Sam didn’t answer...
“What you retarded or something?”
No answer. And in seconds all four of them surrounded Sam. One of them grabbed Sam by the t-shirt and threw him against the wall, while the others held his arms and legs down.
Within seconds the gang had left Sam sitting in a pile of garbage, bloody and hurt.
“Fucking little bitch!” one of them laughed as they left the alley.
Sam sat there for what felt like an hour until he decided that he better go back home so he used the wall behind him to pull himself up.
Dean was pacing around the room when Sam came back.
Dean’s heart broke when he saw his little brother open the door black eye, split lip and his arm wrapped around his ribs.
“Sam! Oh my god! Sam! What's happened to you?”
“I don't want to talk about it!”
“Sam, you need to, if you don't you’re going to waste away to nothing, it’s so obvious that something is wrong, you haven’t been eating, you have been sleeping like 1 hour each night and when you do wake up your screaming or crying! Come on Sammy, let me help you. I need to help you” Dean’s eyes were glazed over with un-born tears.
Sam swayed a little and then collapsed on the floor, letting his back rest against the wall; Dean came down to his level and put his hands on his shoulders, this time Sam didn’t shy away.
“Sam, come on, talk to me, please!”
“Dean, I just wanted to feel something! I just can’t do this anymore” Sam sighed heavily and then winced at the pain in his ribs.
“Sam what do you mean?”
“I feel so dead; I can’t even feel my pulse anymore, Dean! I just need to feel something!” Sam was now in tears.
“What happened? You have to tell me from the start!”
“When I was working at Dave’s house...he...I...” Sam gulped as more tears rolled down his face.
As Sam reached up to wipe away his tears, his sleeve fell and revealed his cut arms.
Dean wrenched them toward himself and gasped. “Sam, what has made you do this?”
Sam pulled his arms back, grimacing “Do you know what it’s like to feel absolutely nothing, and when you finally get sick of it you realize...” he paused for a second looking down at his arms and gritted his teeth, his words sounded almost choked “that anything would be better than nothing, so you do anything possible to bring back the feeling, pinching and scratching at first but then...it’s not enough, it doesn’t satisfy you anymore. And then all it takes is one little slice with one of your favourite knives that your father gave you for your 14th birthday. And then, Dean,” Sam smiled a twisted and wrong smile “that’s when you remember what it’s like to feel.” Sam’s smile wasn’t a proper smile; it was something Dean never wanted to see again, it was so twisted with anger, humiliation and complete self-loathing.
Watching his brother verbalize those painfully truthful words - like they were nothing, like he was telling him a dirty joke in secret - made Dean feel like his insides were being slowly ripped and torn and burnt apart, while they were still inside.
“Sam...”
“Dave slipped me something and when I woke up, I was...Dean I was...”
Dean didn’t need to hear the rest of it, he knew.
“Oh god. That SON-OF-A-BITCH is gonna die, GOOD AND BLOODY
“Dean, just make it go away, make me feel clean, I just wanna feel... oh god, I feel so dirty and wrong.” Sam began brushing at his bare arms which soon became harsh scratching.
“Sam! Sam! Don't! Stop it Sam!” Dean pulled Sam’s arms apart. “You have nothing to feel wrong about; it is not your fault. You hear me?” Dean grabbed Sam’s face between his hands. “It’s that sick fuck-wits fault.”
“Dean, I have everything to feel wrong about, I’m the sick one, I’m the one that should be put away. Oh, God!”
“What?”
“I hate myself so much for feeling like this, I hate myself for wanting to die, I hate myself for letting myself get...get...” Sam stopped, he couldn’t say the word.
Dean pulled Sam into his arms and held him tightly and that’s when Sam felt even worse, all of his desires were slowly coming true and it was just so...wrong.
“no, Dean let go of me!” Sam started putting up a fight, shoving and hitting Dean until he got up slowly and pushed Dean away, stumbling into his room and closing the door before Dean could get to him. He sat with his back against the door, jamming it shut.
“Sam! Come on! Let me in, we need to talk!”
“No Dean! No! Leave me alone; trust me its better that I’m not near you”
“Sam, I’m not going anywhere, I’m your big brother and...”
“That’s the problem!”
Dean paused a second “how is that the problem?”
Sam didn’t know how to say it so he stood up and opened the door, looking his brother in the eyes.
“Sam...”
But before Dean could finish, Sam closed the distance between them and locked his lips with Dean and then pulled back.
“That’s why it’s the problem Dean! I love you more then I should and I feel so wrong because of it. Ever since that night I’ve felt like I was dying slowly and the only thing that has stopped me diving in front of a car is you, you saved me Dean.”
Dean was speechless, not only had he found out that his baby brother was raped, but he also found out that his brother wanted him.
“Dean, I feel so numb inside, I feel anaesthetized somehow, Dean... I want to feel something, please help me feel...”
Dean had never felt so powerless in his life, his baby brother was in pieces right at his feet and he didn’t know what to do to try and help.
“Okay Sam, what do you need from me?”
“I just need you, Dean. I feel so alone”
Dean wrapped his hands around the back of Sam’s neck and pulled him towards him into a crushing kiss. Dean didn’t know if he wanted this but he was determined to do whatever was needed to save his brother. “You’ll never be alone Sammy, you have me... I’m not going anywhere”
Sam ran his hands up Dean’s shirt and pulled it over his head before colliding his lips back with Dean’s. Dean backed his way to the bed and pulled Sam with him.
Dean landed harshly on the bed with Sam soon following after removing his own shirt and pants. Sam undid Dean’s pants, pulled them down along with his boxers and then straddled him, putting either hand on each side of Dean’s head and re-joined their lips.
“I love you Dean” Sam sighed against Dean’s ear before latching on.
When Sam began rocking his hips back and forth, Dean’s back arched at the sudden friction that was causing him to feel like he was going to erupt.
“I love you too”
It’s everything Sam wanted and needed to hear and for the first time in weeks he felt his heart pound against his chest and he was amazed it was still there.
“I’m sorry; I shouldn’t be doing thi...”
“Sammy, don't.” Dean pulled Sam’s head back down and kissed him again. “I said I love you, you know I don't say that to everyone.” He smirked.
Again Sam’s heart pounded, and he knew he was coming back to life, slowly but surely.
By now both boys were swaying their hips and creating friction.
Dean’s hands were running up and down Sam’s arms, comforting him while Sam continued ravishing his neck and throat with his mouth.
“It’s okay Sammy; it’s all going to be okay”
Sam groaned and united their lips again, it was like Sam had found his jaws of life and he was determined to be saved.
Both came with shouting cries and then Sam rolled off and lay next to Dean with his head over his chest, trying to be as quiet as possible.
“What are you doing?” Dean asked, running his hand through Sam’s too long hair.
“Listening, I’ve missed this sound...” Sam replied, laying a kiss over his skin.
THE END... I think...