Blood Bound 9/?
Title: Blood Bound 9/?
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC:17
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Warnings: Underage (Sam is 14), violence, non-con (not between Sam and Dean)
Summary: Samuel Singer, unable to fight off the bullies at his new school, turns to the only student that everyone fears for help: an introverted loner named Dean. Struggling to get closer to the unwilling and rebellious teen, he soon discovers that they're connected in a way that not even he can comprehend. Trying to find the truth, Sam soon realizes that some secrets were meant to remain hidden.
For the first few moments following Bobby's emergence, it seemed as though the world fell off its axis as time froze solid, the minutes held perfectly still beneath the weight of danger emanating from the man across the room. The scent of sex wafted through the air in direct opposition to the hatred seeping from Bobby's every pore, each breath pulled from his flared nostrils becoming more frequent with every second he spent glaring at the boy beside his son. Both teenagers slipped into their boxers without once taking their eyes off of Sam's father, his murderous snarl when Dean whispered a 'hush, baby' in response to Sam's sniffle making the young boy wonder how it was possible they didn't burst into flames from it.
Sam recognized his father's stare for what it was and grabbed at Dean instinctively, trying to shield him from the older man's apocalyptic rage. However, before he could so much as throw himself in the way, Dean was up and off the bed in record time, just seconds away from being tackled to the mattress by a leaping Bobby. Sam flinched as the man fell beside him, the whole thing happening so fast he barely had time to catch his bearings before Bobby jumped off the bed and got right up in Dean's face, spitting curses at him that would make a sailor blush.
"You cocksuckin' whore! Why the fuck couldn't you go out and play with some girl's cunt if you wanted your dick wet that fuckin' badly? Why did you have to go after my boy! He was raped for fuck sake! What the hell is wrong with you?!"
Dean stood there in silence, his hands balling into fists at his sides.
"Answer me, goddammit!"
"Because I wanted to!" Dean yelled. "You wouldn't let me see him. What the fuck was I supposed to do, old man? Huh? Just forget about him? How the hell am I gonna do that when I can't get your son out of my fucking head!"
"You had NO right to touch my boy! He didn't want this. He's confused!"
"Oh, but I did," Dean shot back, his voice shaking with anger and pain. "I did the whole manly thing right there in that bed and trust me…your son wanted it"- Dean broke from his words to advance on Bobby, chuckling humorlessly when the older man took a few steps back in surprise- "You should have heard all the pretty noises he was makin' for me. He begged me to make love to him and that's exactly what I did. I gave him what he needed, what he wanted. I got all up inside of him and slid in and out of that sweet little asshole so good, he kept chantin' my name like I was his fuckin' salvation. Your boy wanted every inch of my cock and you bet your ass, I gave it. You certainly weren't takin' care of him so I figured I might as well pick up your slack. You can't tell me you've been doing your job when it comes to caring for Sam. 'Cause if you were, he wouldn't be all over my stick."
"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Bobby screamed, tackling Dean to the ground.
Sam watched in horror as both males fought with an intense ferocity, struggling to find the strength to separate one from the other. Eventually, he got it into his head to scream at the top of his lungs for them to stop, but his pleas went unnoticed as Dean got the upper hand and delivered a brutal punch to Bobby's jaw. Not one to be owned in a fight, Sam's father jumped to his feet at the same time as his opponent, grabbing the fist flying towards his face and kicking hard at the boy's stomach, the action sending Dean spiraling across the room.
"I'm gonna take care of you real good, boy," Bobby growled.
"Not as good as I took care of your son," Dean gasped, his lip contorting into a nasty sneer.
"You think you're funny? You're nothing, Dean. You're nothing but a parasite, a worthless piece of shit that can't even muster up the strength to make his mama proud because there's nothing to be proud of. Look at you! What the hell have you done with your life besides burden everyone with your detestable presence? Do you even know why you're adopted? It's because your parents didn't want anything to do with you. They took one long look at that ugly face and saw you for what you were; a demon! You're a dirty, worthless, filthy little beast! You deserve everything you get and if it was up to me, I would have replaced Sam with you and watched you get your ass gang raped while God himself watched!"
Dean's face made a number of transformations as Bobby stood screaming over him, but the expression that won out was fear. As soon as the older man yelled the words "filthy beast" at him, the look of malice disappeared and Sam watched as fright took over. His eyes widened and his bottom lip trembled, his entire body shaking with something Sam couldn't define.
"Dad, stop it!" Sam yelled. "You're scaring him!"
Bobby whipped around at the sound of Sam's voice. "You think I'm scaring him now? You just wait."
Sam waited until his father stormed out the door before running to Dean's side. "Dean? Dean, come on. You have to get out of here. Dean? Dean!"
Dean looked up at the mention of his name, blinking the confusion out of his green eyes. He struggled to morph the hazy patches of his brain into a picture of clarity, weeding out the unwanted memories Bobby's tirade drudged up in favor of shedding some light on the situation in which he currently found himself. Understanding mixed with dread and just a touch of guilt plagued his mind as he stood to his full height, shaking his head when Sam tried placing a tentative hand on his shaking shoulders.
Bobby's footsteps stormed up the stairs before anything could be said between the two teenagers, the sight of his shotgun giving Dean all the encouragement he needed to dart out the window before the old man could so much as pull the trigger.
"Gone, huh? I knew that kid was chicken shit."
Sam whirled around to face his father, anger evident in every inch of his shaking body. "How dare you! I can sleep with whoever I want!"
"Goddammit, boy!" Bobby snarled, grabbing Sam's shoulders and giving him a shake. "What the hell is wrong with you? You were raped, son! I can help you but you've got to let me. You don't have to give your body away like you mean nothing! You're worth something, Sam. I promise."
Sam recoiled from Bobby's touch, throwing his hands up in the air. "You don't know shit! I didn't do this because I felt worthless. I did this because I wanted to! Yes, I do believe that I'm worthless but that's only when I'm not around Dean. You don't have the slightest clue what I've been through and you would never understand."
Bobby's face fell at his son's tears. "Then help me understand, Sam. Tell me what's wrong!"
"I just-" Sam broke off as sobs wracked his thin form, the cries pulled out of him making it hard to understand what he was saying- "I just wanted it to stop! I keep having these dreams about Seth and his friends and I can't shake it. It's all I ever think about. I can still feel their calloused hands on my skin, can still hear the names they call me echoing in my ears. Whenever I close my eyes, I can see his face pressing against mine and it makes me sick! I just wanted to replace it all with something else, to be able to open my eyes and find someone other than Seth or his wretched friends on top of me or in between my spread legs! Then Dean came and I was so confused because I felt so scared and his presence makes me feel so safe and I just…I wanted him to make it all go away. I wanted him to do it because I have this connection to him that I can't figure out and he's the only one who could make those memories disappear and replace them with…him. When he was with me, it was his hands on my body, it was him inside me, and it was his voice whispering in my ears. I thought that now I could finally wake up and think about this night and smile instead of screaming myself awake every morning trying to fight off invisible rapists who only exist in my fucking head! But now you're making me feel as if what I did was wrong, like I'm just some worthless cock slut who just couldn't get enough and so now it's like I can't win. I can't do this anymore, daddy. I just want it to stop! Please! Please, make it stop!"
Those last couple of words were uttered with such anguish that Bobby could feel his heart melt with sympathy for his bruised and battered son. Falling to the bed beside his boy, he wrapped Sam up in his arms and ran his fingers over the chestnut strands as his very life cried openly into the crook of his neck, letting out all the agony and confusion those evil boys had inflicted upon him.
"It's gonna be okay," Bobby murmured into his son's head, tears streaming down his face. "Nothing is ever going to happen to you again, Sam. I promise you that."
Sam looked up at his father with an expression so childlike, the sight of it destroyed whatever was left of Bobby's shattered soul. "I just want to make it stop, daddy."
Unable to respond to the heartbreaking admission, Bobby tightened his arms around the boy's shaking frame and held on for dear life as Sam's shuddering breaths evened out by the claiming of sleep, leaving his father behind to weep softly against his forehead.
"I'll make it stop, son," he said. "Don't you worry...they're all gonna pay."
Missouri awakened to the sound of objects being hurled across Dean's room, her maternal instincts kicking in gear as she high tailed it to her son's doorway, stopping dead in her tracks at the sight of her boy's anger. The muscles hidden beneath his t-shirt flexed with every rapid movement needed to destroy whatever was left of his small bedroom, his loud curses echoing through the bare walls of what used to be his sanctuary. Broken glass littered the floor in jagged patterns of dull crystal, the sharp blades crunching beneath Dean's feet as he ripped drawers from their respective places, the contents of each one flying through the air to land beside the pointed edges of Dean's shattered mirror. Knives etched themselves into the wall from the force of Dean's throws, chipping the paint and leaving tiny holes inside the plaster. When the last one flew in her direction, she barely had time to duck before it whirled past her head and clanged against the bathtub across the hallway, making Missouri's son gasp in horror as the realization of what he'd done hit him like a ton of bricks.
Within the span of two seconds, he was on his knees beside her, running his hands all over to check for damage that wasn't there. His concern made her smile, and she reached out to drag her palm over his tear-stained cheek in a blatant attempt to give the boy the kind of love she knew he needed. She waited in silence, understanding flashing across her sympathetic eyes, until her boy lunged at her the way she knew he would, sobbing violently into the soft fabric of her nightgown. She wrapped her arms around him and watched as he let go of everything he'd been holding in since the day the child she once knew stumbled on her doorstep, releasing all of his pent-up emotion through the salty droplets trailing down his sensitive skin. His sorrow ripped her apart, the evidence of her son's pain the cruelest joke fate could inflict upon the heart of a mother.
"Hush, baby," she whispered. "Tell me what happened. He found you in bed with Sam, didn't he?"
Dean stiffened in her arms, slowly raising his head to peer shockingly into her knowledgeable face. His tiny sniffle was masked by his hand as he wiped the back of it over his nose, erasing the wetness there until it was nothing more than a distant memory.
"I had a vision of you two tangled together between the boy's sheets. I'm not a moron though. I could see it coming even before I received that special vision. Doesn't take a rocket scientist to see you boys care for each other. Lord knows why when you've only just met. Now, while I'm happy as a pig in shit that you've found someone you have a real honest to god connection with, sleeping with that child is not in his best interests. Not now. He's been through far too much and as much as he cares for you, what happened with you both was just his way of coping with a lot of emotions thrown his way. It wasn't necessarily an act done out of love, though I know for a fact that your blushing boy loves you somethin' fierce."
Dean's pained whimper made the rest of Missouri's words turn to ash in her mouth. "He called me a filthy beast, mama. Bobby said I was worthless just like those men did all those years ago. I did a horrible thing. I was careless with a damaged boy. I used him just as much as he used me. It was all wrong and now I don't know what to do. I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I'm so sorry that I couldn't be the kind of son you wanted me to be, ma. I disappoint everyone around me and no matter how hard I try, it's like I can't do anything right. It's so much easier to hold everything inside of me than risk being vulnerable and getting my heart broken. I know you're going to throw me away eventually, just like everyone else does so I try so hard to ignore my love for you and it's like I can't even do that right. I'm so sorry I'm such a bad boy, mama. I'm so fuckin' sorry."
Missouri watched her weeping son pour his soul out with an intensity that surprised even her, a slow build up of righteous anger creeping up her spine and tinghtening her muscles. Hearing about Bobby's words to Dean had her seeing red, and it wasn't long before she crushed her weeping son to her breast and plotted the man's demise while openly comforting the boy wrapped in her loving arms.
"Don't you worry, son. Mama's gonna make it all better. Look at me, baby."
Dean mustered up whatever strength he had left and allowed himself to stare into his mother's eyes, the hurt Missouri saw there far more than she could bear. Grabbing his face in both of her hands, she leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together, placing a soft kiss to his trembling lips.
"You are my boy, Dean. There is nothing you could do that would ever make me turn away from you. I don't care what it was Bobby said to you. He only said it out of anger for Sam. You are the best son I could ever ask for and I accept all of your faults because you're a strong young man who has been through more than his fair of troubles and, being the resilient son of a bitch that you are, you've survived every single one of them. Nothing could make a mother prouder. So, don't you dare go and talk about how you're worthless because you are worth something. You're worth something to me."
Dean buried his face in Missouri's neck and tightened his hold on her middle, sobbing his 'I love you's' into her damp skin. The words made her smile and tears sprang to her eyes before she could stop them. After all this time, she finally had the proof of her boy's love for her. As the Moseley's clung to each other in the dead of night, Missouri was sure of two things. First, she loved her son more than anything else in the world, and she vowed right then and there that nobody would ever hurt that boy again as long as she lived. Second, she was going to beat the living hell out of Bobby Singer.
Sunlight peeked through the curtains of Sam's bedroom window as he sat up and groggily stepped foot outside his doorway in the direction of the kitchen, the sweet aroma of bacon and eggs filling his body with a voracious hunger that refused to be sated by anything other than food. He smiled at his father, plopping down in a kitchen chair while reaching awkwardly for the orange juice across the table, spilling the container in the process and staining the hardwood floors with bright splotches of orange liquid.
"Shit!" he cursed silently, grabbing napkins off the table and wiping up the mess with a few pats of his hand.
Bobby chuckled, turning his attention to the boy behind him. "You were always clumsy when you first woke up. I remember you being five and reaching to open up your window before you fell through it."
"I fell through my window?"
"Don't worry. It was only a couple of inches off the ground. You're lucky we weren't in the place we have now. If we were, you'd have had a couple of broken bones."
Sam smiled, sitting back down and smoothing his bangs away from his forehead.
Bobby's smile faded as they shared an awkward silence, trying to come up with the courage to say what was on his mind. "You know, Sam...I just wanted you to know that I'm...I'm glad you confided in me last night. I'm always going to be there for you and I just really hope you know that."
"Can we just not talk about it, dad?" Sam responded, looking at the ground. "I'm just so sick of talking about it. The past is the past and I just want to put it behind me."
"That's a pretty good idea," Bobby said.
Sam's brows furrowed in confusion before Bobby could turn back to his breakfast, the look on his face flashing warning signs in front of the old man.
"What is it, kid?"
"I just...dad, please don't get mad at me when I say this...but I just wanted to know if I could, well, if maybe I could see Dean?"
Bobby stiffened and turned his back on Sam, ignoring the boy's pleading eyes.
"Dad, you can't be mad at him for this. I'm the one that wanted him to do it. I know we made a mistake and we both did it for the wrong reasons...but I don't regret it. Well, I do, but not in the way you think I do. I just wish it had been more special. Our first time and all that"- Sam cut himself off to rise from the table, putting both hands up as if in prayer-"Look, I know you think he's a bad seed and I know he said all that stuff to you back there but he was just reacting. He didn't mean any of it, I swear-"
"Goddammit, boy!" Bobby snapped, slamming the pot on the stove. "That child is bad news and I refuse to just sit here and allow him to poison my son's mind. Now, I don't want to hear another word in this house about Dean Winchester. Do you understand me?"
Sam's body whipped back as if he'd just been slapped, his blood turning to ice in his veins. "What did you just say?"
The color drained from Bobby's face as soon as Sam shot suspicious eyes his way, hanging his head down as if he'd just been caught stealing cookies from a cookie jar. "Dammit, Sam. Just do what your daddy tells you and stop poking your nose in where it don't belong. Now, I want you to sit there, eat your breakfast, and help me clean up before our guest arrives. It's about time we properly thanked him for saving your life."
Bobby stormed off before Sam could stop him, walking up the stairs and slamming his door shut with a resounding bang. Sam fell back on his chair and put his palms over his face, desperately trying to remember something important about that name. When it finally clicked, he gasped in recognition as it all came back to him.
Gabriel. That man in school had used the exact same name when referring to Sam. None of it made any sense and the weary teenager sighed in frustration, unable to understand why the mention of it had him shivering in recollection, almost as if he'd heard it somewhere long before Gabriel ever brought it to his attention. He decided then and there that when Hank came over, he would ask him if he knew anything about it. He'd had a brief conversation with him in the car on the way back to his house and one of the things he'd learned was that Hank seemed to know an awful lot about the goings on in this neighborhood, with the exception of Dean's family, of course. If he knew so much about most of the residents, maybe he'd heard of the name "Winchester" as well.
Sam leaned back and closed his eyes as a sudden fatigue swept through his entire body, thinking so hard after the night he'd had draining whatever was left of his remaining energy. His whispered words fell on deaf ears as he drifted off into a peaceful sleep, questions of an unknown nature threatening whatever was left of his precious sanity.
"Winchester...where the hell have I heard that name before?"
Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC:17
Disclaimer: I own nothing
Warnings: Underage (Sam is 14), violence, non-con (not between Sam and Dean)
Summary: Samuel Singer, unable to fight off the bullies at his new school, turns to the only student that everyone fears for help: an introverted loner named Dean. Struggling to get closer to the unwilling and rebellious teen, he soon discovers that they're connected in a way that not even he can comprehend. Trying to find the truth, Sam soon realizes that some secrets were meant to remain hidden.
For the first few moments following Bobby's emergence, it seemed as though the world fell off its axis as time froze solid, the minutes held perfectly still beneath the weight of danger emanating from the man across the room. The scent of sex wafted through the air in direct opposition to the hatred seeping from Bobby's every pore, each breath pulled from his flared nostrils becoming more frequent with every second he spent glaring at the boy beside his son. Both teenagers slipped into their boxers without once taking their eyes off of Sam's father, his murderous snarl when Dean whispered a 'hush, baby' in response to Sam's sniffle making the young boy wonder how it was possible they didn't burst into flames from it.
Sam recognized his father's stare for what it was and grabbed at Dean instinctively, trying to shield him from the older man's apocalyptic rage. However, before he could so much as throw himself in the way, Dean was up and off the bed in record time, just seconds away from being tackled to the mattress by a leaping Bobby. Sam flinched as the man fell beside him, the whole thing happening so fast he barely had time to catch his bearings before Bobby jumped off the bed and got right up in Dean's face, spitting curses at him that would make a sailor blush.
"You cocksuckin' whore! Why the fuck couldn't you go out and play with some girl's cunt if you wanted your dick wet that fuckin' badly? Why did you have to go after my boy! He was raped for fuck sake! What the hell is wrong with you?!"
Dean stood there in silence, his hands balling into fists at his sides.
"Answer me, goddammit!"
"Because I wanted to!" Dean yelled. "You wouldn't let me see him. What the fuck was I supposed to do, old man? Huh? Just forget about him? How the hell am I gonna do that when I can't get your son out of my fucking head!"
"You had NO right to touch my boy! He didn't want this. He's confused!"
"Oh, but I did," Dean shot back, his voice shaking with anger and pain. "I did the whole manly thing right there in that bed and trust me…your son wanted it"- Dean broke from his words to advance on Bobby, chuckling humorlessly when the older man took a few steps back in surprise- "You should have heard all the pretty noises he was makin' for me. He begged me to make love to him and that's exactly what I did. I gave him what he needed, what he wanted. I got all up inside of him and slid in and out of that sweet little asshole so good, he kept chantin' my name like I was his fuckin' salvation. Your boy wanted every inch of my cock and you bet your ass, I gave it. You certainly weren't takin' care of him so I figured I might as well pick up your slack. You can't tell me you've been doing your job when it comes to caring for Sam. 'Cause if you were, he wouldn't be all over my stick."
"YOU SON OF A BITCH!" Bobby screamed, tackling Dean to the ground.
Sam watched in horror as both males fought with an intense ferocity, struggling to find the strength to separate one from the other. Eventually, he got it into his head to scream at the top of his lungs for them to stop, but his pleas went unnoticed as Dean got the upper hand and delivered a brutal punch to Bobby's jaw. Not one to be owned in a fight, Sam's father jumped to his feet at the same time as his opponent, grabbing the fist flying towards his face and kicking hard at the boy's stomach, the action sending Dean spiraling across the room.
"I'm gonna take care of you real good, boy," Bobby growled.
"Not as good as I took care of your son," Dean gasped, his lip contorting into a nasty sneer.
"You think you're funny? You're nothing, Dean. You're nothing but a parasite, a worthless piece of shit that can't even muster up the strength to make his mama proud because there's nothing to be proud of. Look at you! What the hell have you done with your life besides burden everyone with your detestable presence? Do you even know why you're adopted? It's because your parents didn't want anything to do with you. They took one long look at that ugly face and saw you for what you were; a demon! You're a dirty, worthless, filthy little beast! You deserve everything you get and if it was up to me, I would have replaced Sam with you and watched you get your ass gang raped while God himself watched!"
Dean's face made a number of transformations as Bobby stood screaming over him, but the expression that won out was fear. As soon as the older man yelled the words "filthy beast" at him, the look of malice disappeared and Sam watched as fright took over. His eyes widened and his bottom lip trembled, his entire body shaking with something Sam couldn't define.
"Dad, stop it!" Sam yelled. "You're scaring him!"
Bobby whipped around at the sound of Sam's voice. "You think I'm scaring him now? You just wait."
Sam waited until his father stormed out the door before running to Dean's side. "Dean? Dean, come on. You have to get out of here. Dean? Dean!"
Dean looked up at the mention of his name, blinking the confusion out of his green eyes. He struggled to morph the hazy patches of his brain into a picture of clarity, weeding out the unwanted memories Bobby's tirade drudged up in favor of shedding some light on the situation in which he currently found himself. Understanding mixed with dread and just a touch of guilt plagued his mind as he stood to his full height, shaking his head when Sam tried placing a tentative hand on his shaking shoulders.
Bobby's footsteps stormed up the stairs before anything could be said between the two teenagers, the sight of his shotgun giving Dean all the encouragement he needed to dart out the window before the old man could so much as pull the trigger.
"Gone, huh? I knew that kid was chicken shit."
Sam whirled around to face his father, anger evident in every inch of his shaking body. "How dare you! I can sleep with whoever I want!"
"Goddammit, boy!" Bobby snarled, grabbing Sam's shoulders and giving him a shake. "What the hell is wrong with you? You were raped, son! I can help you but you've got to let me. You don't have to give your body away like you mean nothing! You're worth something, Sam. I promise."
Sam recoiled from Bobby's touch, throwing his hands up in the air. "You don't know shit! I didn't do this because I felt worthless. I did this because I wanted to! Yes, I do believe that I'm worthless but that's only when I'm not around Dean. You don't have the slightest clue what I've been through and you would never understand."
Bobby's face fell at his son's tears. "Then help me understand, Sam. Tell me what's wrong!"
"I just-" Sam broke off as sobs wracked his thin form, the cries pulled out of him making it hard to understand what he was saying- "I just wanted it to stop! I keep having these dreams about Seth and his friends and I can't shake it. It's all I ever think about. I can still feel their calloused hands on my skin, can still hear the names they call me echoing in my ears. Whenever I close my eyes, I can see his face pressing against mine and it makes me sick! I just wanted to replace it all with something else, to be able to open my eyes and find someone other than Seth or his wretched friends on top of me or in between my spread legs! Then Dean came and I was so confused because I felt so scared and his presence makes me feel so safe and I just…I wanted him to make it all go away. I wanted him to do it because I have this connection to him that I can't figure out and he's the only one who could make those memories disappear and replace them with…him. When he was with me, it was his hands on my body, it was him inside me, and it was his voice whispering in my ears. I thought that now I could finally wake up and think about this night and smile instead of screaming myself awake every morning trying to fight off invisible rapists who only exist in my fucking head! But now you're making me feel as if what I did was wrong, like I'm just some worthless cock slut who just couldn't get enough and so now it's like I can't win. I can't do this anymore, daddy. I just want it to stop! Please! Please, make it stop!"
Those last couple of words were uttered with such anguish that Bobby could feel his heart melt with sympathy for his bruised and battered son. Falling to the bed beside his boy, he wrapped Sam up in his arms and ran his fingers over the chestnut strands as his very life cried openly into the crook of his neck, letting out all the agony and confusion those evil boys had inflicted upon him.
"It's gonna be okay," Bobby murmured into his son's head, tears streaming down his face. "Nothing is ever going to happen to you again, Sam. I promise you that."
Sam looked up at his father with an expression so childlike, the sight of it destroyed whatever was left of Bobby's shattered soul. "I just want to make it stop, daddy."
Unable to respond to the heartbreaking admission, Bobby tightened his arms around the boy's shaking frame and held on for dear life as Sam's shuddering breaths evened out by the claiming of sleep, leaving his father behind to weep softly against his forehead.
"I'll make it stop, son," he said. "Don't you worry...they're all gonna pay."
Missouri awakened to the sound of objects being hurled across Dean's room, her maternal instincts kicking in gear as she high tailed it to her son's doorway, stopping dead in her tracks at the sight of her boy's anger. The muscles hidden beneath his t-shirt flexed with every rapid movement needed to destroy whatever was left of his small bedroom, his loud curses echoing through the bare walls of what used to be his sanctuary. Broken glass littered the floor in jagged patterns of dull crystal, the sharp blades crunching beneath Dean's feet as he ripped drawers from their respective places, the contents of each one flying through the air to land beside the pointed edges of Dean's shattered mirror. Knives etched themselves into the wall from the force of Dean's throws, chipping the paint and leaving tiny holes inside the plaster. When the last one flew in her direction, she barely had time to duck before it whirled past her head and clanged against the bathtub across the hallway, making Missouri's son gasp in horror as the realization of what he'd done hit him like a ton of bricks.
Within the span of two seconds, he was on his knees beside her, running his hands all over to check for damage that wasn't there. His concern made her smile, and she reached out to drag her palm over his tear-stained cheek in a blatant attempt to give the boy the kind of love she knew he needed. She waited in silence, understanding flashing across her sympathetic eyes, until her boy lunged at her the way she knew he would, sobbing violently into the soft fabric of her nightgown. She wrapped her arms around him and watched as he let go of everything he'd been holding in since the day the child she once knew stumbled on her doorstep, releasing all of his pent-up emotion through the salty droplets trailing down his sensitive skin. His sorrow ripped her apart, the evidence of her son's pain the cruelest joke fate could inflict upon the heart of a mother.
"Hush, baby," she whispered. "Tell me what happened. He found you in bed with Sam, didn't he?"
Dean stiffened in her arms, slowly raising his head to peer shockingly into her knowledgeable face. His tiny sniffle was masked by his hand as he wiped the back of it over his nose, erasing the wetness there until it was nothing more than a distant memory.
"I had a vision of you two tangled together between the boy's sheets. I'm not a moron though. I could see it coming even before I received that special vision. Doesn't take a rocket scientist to see you boys care for each other. Lord knows why when you've only just met. Now, while I'm happy as a pig in shit that you've found someone you have a real honest to god connection with, sleeping with that child is not in his best interests. Not now. He's been through far too much and as much as he cares for you, what happened with you both was just his way of coping with a lot of emotions thrown his way. It wasn't necessarily an act done out of love, though I know for a fact that your blushing boy loves you somethin' fierce."
Dean's pained whimper made the rest of Missouri's words turn to ash in her mouth. "He called me a filthy beast, mama. Bobby said I was worthless just like those men did all those years ago. I did a horrible thing. I was careless with a damaged boy. I used him just as much as he used me. It was all wrong and now I don't know what to do. I didn't mean for any of this to happen. I'm so sorry that I couldn't be the kind of son you wanted me to be, ma. I disappoint everyone around me and no matter how hard I try, it's like I can't do anything right. It's so much easier to hold everything inside of me than risk being vulnerable and getting my heart broken. I know you're going to throw me away eventually, just like everyone else does so I try so hard to ignore my love for you and it's like I can't even do that right. I'm so sorry I'm such a bad boy, mama. I'm so fuckin' sorry."
Missouri watched her weeping son pour his soul out with an intensity that surprised even her, a slow build up of righteous anger creeping up her spine and tinghtening her muscles. Hearing about Bobby's words to Dean had her seeing red, and it wasn't long before she crushed her weeping son to her breast and plotted the man's demise while openly comforting the boy wrapped in her loving arms.
"Don't you worry, son. Mama's gonna make it all better. Look at me, baby."
Dean mustered up whatever strength he had left and allowed himself to stare into his mother's eyes, the hurt Missouri saw there far more than she could bear. Grabbing his face in both of her hands, she leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together, placing a soft kiss to his trembling lips.
"You are my boy, Dean. There is nothing you could do that would ever make me turn away from you. I don't care what it was Bobby said to you. He only said it out of anger for Sam. You are the best son I could ever ask for and I accept all of your faults because you're a strong young man who has been through more than his fair of troubles and, being the resilient son of a bitch that you are, you've survived every single one of them. Nothing could make a mother prouder. So, don't you dare go and talk about how you're worthless because you are worth something. You're worth something to me."
Dean buried his face in Missouri's neck and tightened his hold on her middle, sobbing his 'I love you's' into her damp skin. The words made her smile and tears sprang to her eyes before she could stop them. After all this time, she finally had the proof of her boy's love for her. As the Moseley's clung to each other in the dead of night, Missouri was sure of two things. First, she loved her son more than anything else in the world, and she vowed right then and there that nobody would ever hurt that boy again as long as she lived. Second, she was going to beat the living hell out of Bobby Singer.
Sunlight peeked through the curtains of Sam's bedroom window as he sat up and groggily stepped foot outside his doorway in the direction of the kitchen, the sweet aroma of bacon and eggs filling his body with a voracious hunger that refused to be sated by anything other than food. He smiled at his father, plopping down in a kitchen chair while reaching awkwardly for the orange juice across the table, spilling the container in the process and staining the hardwood floors with bright splotches of orange liquid.
"Shit!" he cursed silently, grabbing napkins off the table and wiping up the mess with a few pats of his hand.
Bobby chuckled, turning his attention to the boy behind him. "You were always clumsy when you first woke up. I remember you being five and reaching to open up your window before you fell through it."
"I fell through my window?"
"Don't worry. It was only a couple of inches off the ground. You're lucky we weren't in the place we have now. If we were, you'd have had a couple of broken bones."
Sam smiled, sitting back down and smoothing his bangs away from his forehead.
Bobby's smile faded as they shared an awkward silence, trying to come up with the courage to say what was on his mind. "You know, Sam...I just wanted you to know that I'm...I'm glad you confided in me last night. I'm always going to be there for you and I just really hope you know that."
"Can we just not talk about it, dad?" Sam responded, looking at the ground. "I'm just so sick of talking about it. The past is the past and I just want to put it behind me."
"That's a pretty good idea," Bobby said.
Sam's brows furrowed in confusion before Bobby could turn back to his breakfast, the look on his face flashing warning signs in front of the old man.
"What is it, kid?"
"I just...dad, please don't get mad at me when I say this...but I just wanted to know if I could, well, if maybe I could see Dean?"
Bobby stiffened and turned his back on Sam, ignoring the boy's pleading eyes.
"Dad, you can't be mad at him for this. I'm the one that wanted him to do it. I know we made a mistake and we both did it for the wrong reasons...but I don't regret it. Well, I do, but not in the way you think I do. I just wish it had been more special. Our first time and all that"- Sam cut himself off to rise from the table, putting both hands up as if in prayer-"Look, I know you think he's a bad seed and I know he said all that stuff to you back there but he was just reacting. He didn't mean any of it, I swear-"
"Goddammit, boy!" Bobby snapped, slamming the pot on the stove. "That child is bad news and I refuse to just sit here and allow him to poison my son's mind. Now, I don't want to hear another word in this house about Dean Winchester. Do you understand me?"
Sam's body whipped back as if he'd just been slapped, his blood turning to ice in his veins. "What did you just say?"
The color drained from Bobby's face as soon as Sam shot suspicious eyes his way, hanging his head down as if he'd just been caught stealing cookies from a cookie jar. "Dammit, Sam. Just do what your daddy tells you and stop poking your nose in where it don't belong. Now, I want you to sit there, eat your breakfast, and help me clean up before our guest arrives. It's about time we properly thanked him for saving your life."
Bobby stormed off before Sam could stop him, walking up the stairs and slamming his door shut with a resounding bang. Sam fell back on his chair and put his palms over his face, desperately trying to remember something important about that name. When it finally clicked, he gasped in recognition as it all came back to him.
Gabriel. That man in school had used the exact same name when referring to Sam. None of it made any sense and the weary teenager sighed in frustration, unable to understand why the mention of it had him shivering in recollection, almost as if he'd heard it somewhere long before Gabriel ever brought it to his attention. He decided then and there that when Hank came over, he would ask him if he knew anything about it. He'd had a brief conversation with him in the car on the way back to his house and one of the things he'd learned was that Hank seemed to know an awful lot about the goings on in this neighborhood, with the exception of Dean's family, of course. If he knew so much about most of the residents, maybe he'd heard of the name "Winchester" as well.
Sam leaned back and closed his eyes as a sudden fatigue swept through his entire body, thinking so hard after the night he'd had draining whatever was left of his remaining energy. His whispered words fell on deaf ears as he drifted off into a peaceful sleep, questions of an unknown nature threatening whatever was left of his precious sanity.
"Winchester...where the hell have I heard that name before?"