Save us 1/?
Title: Save us
Author: giantslinky
Characters, Dean, Sam, Mary, John, OFC, OMC
Pairing: Mary/John
Word count: this part 4017
Warnings: Child abuse (physical and mental)
Disclaimers: I don't own Supernatural or the characters in any way.
Summary: He just wants to feel safe. Just for a little while. Please
Notes: This is a adopted!boys fic! It's a wip but second shapter should be up fairly soon!
Fear
Dean doesn’t remember a time when he didn’t feel it. When it didn’t haunt him. He lives in constant fear everyday all the day but when the day turns into night it doesn’t stop there. No, fear follows Dean even there. It lulls him into a light slumber where it invites itself into his dreams, turning them into nightmares.
He just wants to feel safe. Just for a little while. Please
Most of all Dean wants safety for his brother, Sammy. It’s his biggest wish to get him out of this hellhole before it’s too late. He tries his best to protect his brother, god does he try hard, but sometimes he just isn’t enough. When their dad had knocked Sam unconscious last week Dean had taken the blame and silently cried himself to sleep for the next three nights, all the while holding Sam who was plagued by nightmares.
A mother, father and two boys. It sounded like the perfect family. A happy family. But they have never been a happy family. Dean doesn’t remember when it started, when his father’s eyes turned dark and stayed that way, or when his mother stopped caring. She didn’t even bother trying to stop their father anymore when he would lock one of them up in the closet. Sometimes for days.
Pain
Pain is another thing that Dean isn’t a stranger to. He tries to stay positive about it though. Pain makes him stronger, and by now he can take it pretty good. Getting knocked around a bit doesn’t cause as much pain as it did before. At least not on the inside. He is pretty used to it by now. He also tries to stay strong for Sam, Sam who still shakes from fear sometimes when their father gets drunk and he sometimes wakes up crying from nightmares. Sam doesn’t need this life, doesn’t deserve it. Sam needs a protector and Dean tries his very best to be that for him every day, no matter the cost.
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Dean startled awake and automatically tightened his grip on Sam. They only have a mattress they share but if they could choose to sleep in separate beds they both know that they wouldn’t do it.
It takes a few seconds for Dean to figure out what had woken him up but then he hears his father drunken cursing coming from downstairs. There are some loud banging noises followed by some more cursing and then a loud thud. Then silence.
It isn’t unusual, their father being drunk so early in the day and then passing out cold for the rest of the day. Dean preferred those days. When dear ‘ol daddy is too drunk to throw a straight punch, much less get off the floor.
It is still a bit too early to get up and get ready for school so Dean doesn’t bother waking Sam as he gets up and walks into the bathroom.
Dean likes school. He would never tell Sam but the kid is smart so he probably didn’t have to, he knew anyway. For Dean, school was a sanctuary. There he got the chance to actually talk to people without getting smacked around and it was the only time during the day when he could actually relax because he knew Sam was safe.
Sure homework wasn’t his favorite thing in the world and the teachers could be a little thick sometimes, but it is a safe place, and that’s all he asks for.
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Sam woke up slowly. He struggled to open his eyes and when he finally pried them open he just had time to watch Dean limp into their bathroom. Sam keeps looking even after the door closes. He’s worried about his big brother. He always is, but a little more than usual now. Dean has had that limp since he was six when their dad had pushed him down the stairs and Dean’s leg broke. Of course they didn’t take him to the hospital so it never healed properly. Four days ago a new guy had moved into town and he was now in Dean’s class. From the first look Sam didn’t like the kid, he looked like he was up to no good.
Sam got his suspicions confirmed the day after when he caught the guy talking to two other guys pointing at Dean then he had walked after him, exaggeratingly imitating his brother’s limp. Then they had all laughed. Sam had never wanted to punch someone in the face that bad before but he didn’t because he didn’t want to draw attention to himself, Dean had taught him the importance of that. He also hadn’t told Dean about it because he didn’t want his brother to get into trouble. He just hoped that the guy would leave Dean alone.
Suddenly Sam is jerked awake from his thoughts as the door to their bedroom slams open. His mom stands in the doorway and at first she just stares at him, before saying “Why are you still in bed? Get up. NOW!” Sam quickly pushed himself up and watched with dismay as she opened the door to the bathroom, where Dean still was. Sam couldn’t make out what she was saying to his brother but he definitely heard the sound of a slap before she came out and disappearing downstairs again.
Sam closed his eyes. Stupid tears. Sometimes he wished he could be like Dean who seemed to just be able to keep all his emotions from spilling out even though he hated that his brother felt like he couldn’t cry in front of Sam. But Sam wanted to be like Dean in more ways too, in every way. He didn’t want to be weak.
He felt the burning in his eyes and clenched his hands into fists in frustration as the tears began to fall. He didn’t know how much longer he could take this, seeing Dean in so much pain every day. The worst for Sam though is that Dean just takes it. He accepts the beatings and the harsh words as long as they are meant for him, and not Sam. It breaks Sam’s heart.
And suddenly Dean is there, like he always is, strong hands gently cupping his face and stroking the tears away with his thumbs. Sam opened his eyes to see Dean’s worried face right in front of him. Dean’s left cheek was already reddening and Sam can’t look at it. More tears fall.
“Hey, hey Sammy look at me. Look at me. I’m okay, don’t worry. I’m fine Sam, please don’t cry.” Sam looks up at him again and Dean smiles gently before continuing “It’s not even that bad, right? Just a slap on the cheek, that’s nothing.” And even though Dean is just trying to comfort him, that just makes Sam cry harder.
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Dean sighed as he sat down behind his desk. His last class of the day was English and today they would meet their new teacher. Even though their last teacher, Mr. Hutman, had been a real jerk about pop quizzes, Dean did not look forward to a new teacher.
For Dean, a new teacher meant a new suspicious face, a new adult to try to convince, to lie to. Dean had never once thought about telling someone because there was no one he trusted enough. He didn’t want to risk telling them and them not believing him. Then they would look at him that way, like his parents does, like he isn’t worth the space he takes up. And even if they would believe him it’s not sure that their “help” would actually help. They would just end up in a foster home and everyone knows how bad those could be.
He had become an unwilling master of lying. In school, his outspoken and goofy personality helped him to act carefree if a teacher would ever ask him about an injury. Like when his PE teacher had asked about the bruising on his knees. “Oh you know me coach, I always crawl around on my knees begging all the pretty girls for kisses” He had then (with some carefully hidden difficulty) gotten down to his knees in front of Sarah, the prettiest girl in the class, and pouted his lips for a kiss. The whole class had started laughing, even coach, and Sarah had blushed and playfully pushed Dean so he landed on his butt.
Sometimes Dean would even blame Sam. Like today when his history teacher had asked him about the red mark on his cheek after class. “Honey” she had started “what happened on your cheek?” She had put her hand up to gently touch his cheek but he had ducked his head away, pretending like he needed to scratch the back of his head. “You know my brother right, Sammy? Short kid, big mop of brown hair? We were tossing a football yesterday and you wouldn’t believe the aim that kid has because he doesn’t have any!” He had then twirled around to fetch his backpack before giving her his brightest smile. She had believed him, they always did. Dean hated lying to them, he didn’t want to be that kind of kid that goes around lying to adults. He always got this stomach ache whenever he did and sometimes even threw up afterwards but Dean knew it was worth it because it kept Sam safe.
Dean hung his backpack on the back of his chair at the same time as the new kid, Kyle, walked in to the classroom together with two other guys. Dean ignored them and instead reached for his notebook in the backpack, but just as he grabbed it Kyle walked passed Dean’s bench and pushed his book to the ground.
Dean grit his teeth together and just picked the book up. Real mature he thought to himself. It was still a few minutes left until the class started so the new teacher wasn’t there yet and it was only a few other students in the room, but they kept looking everywhere but at them, they minded their own business.
Suddenly Kyle was right next to him and Dean flinched away when Kyle grabbed his shoulder and leaned down to whisper in his ear “Hey Limp, stay away from Sarah you hear? She’s mine and besides, why would she want you anyway?”
Dean tried to do what he always does with his tears, keep them inside, but he couldn’t ignore the burn behind his eyes or the feeling in his gut that felt very similar to a physical punch.
It’s frustrating because he knows it’s true. Sarah is a sweet girl and all, a good friend. But he knew he had no real shot with her. But what really gets him, what makes the tears dangerously close to spilling over is that it’s so unfair. The limp wasn’t his fault. Sure his dad had made it pretty clear that he thought otherwise and his mom didn’t argue with him but he knew it wasn’t his fault.
The room filled and eventually all the desks were occupied and everyone quieted down.
Dean didn’t believe in angels. But if angels were real, and looked like humans, Dean was sure they looked like his new teacher.
She smiled kindly at all of them “Hello class, my name is Mary and I am your new English teacher.”
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Mary and John Winchester were lying in an exhausted heap on the couch. It had taken them four hours to unpack all the boxes for the living room and put most of the furniture in place, and that was only one room.
“Ugh I’m exhausted” Mary said at the same time as she placed her feet on her husband’s legs begging for a foot massage, and pouting for effect.
“And what do you think I am? How do you expect me to give you a decent foot massage when I have been lifting heavy furniture all day? John answered as the same time as he started rubbing her feet. “Aww is my big strong man tired?” she cooed. She just got a soft ‘mm’ for an answer. “Hey don’t fall asleep yet. I need you to keep me company while I make dinner so I don’t fall asleep with my face in the stew.”
“Mhmm pr’bly just be g’d with a li’l more flavor.” That earned John a kick in the stomach. “OW is that the right way to treat your hard working husband?”
Mary grinned, “Oh so now you’re awake?” she stood up and kissed him on the forehead. “Come on hubby, let’s cook dinner”.
Mary’s first day as a teacher at the town’s school had been better than she ever could have hoped. Her co-workers had been very friendly and shown her around the school property and the class she was teaching all seemed like good students.
There was one student though, Dean, that had caught her attention straight away. It wasn’t just the red mark on his cheek, but also the way he kept his head down and when class was over he all but ran out of the room. Maybe she was overreacting, but Mary felt a growing concern for the boy. She was going to keep an eye on him.
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Sam and Dean walked home together from school, like they always did. They walked slowly enough for Dean not to have any problems keeping up but fast enough to be home before their parents got mad. “So how was your day?” Dean said and smiled as his little brother started talking enthusiastically about his day. It never seized to amaze Dean how Sam could still have such a good mood. When Sam had done well on a test, he could be happy about it for days, and even longer if it was Dean who had done well. Dean ruffled Sam’s hair; yeah he was a good kid.
“And then in science guess what we got to do Dean? We got to plant our own plant! Everyone got their own plant and I named mine Sasquatch and we planted them in jars together with peas and now we’re gonna watch them grow!” Sam finally came up for air and looked happily up at his big brother.
“That’s great Sam! I bet yours will be the biggest one!”
“You think so Dean? My teacher thought maybe I gave mine too much water, but we’ll see! So how was your day?”
Dean’s smile faltered a bit but he quickly covered it up with a new one. He didn’t want Sam to know about Kyle because he didn’t want him to worry. “Oh you know Sammy, just same ‘ol same ‘ol, kicking ass in class and kissing all the girls.”
“Yeah sure” said Sam as he playfully shoved Dean as they kept making their way home.
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Ron and Sally McFarland were not nice people. If you want to blame someone except for them for that, you would have to look hard. They both grew up with nice parents in big houses. In school the teachers had been supportive and tried to be helpful even though Sally did smoke in class and Ron was barely there.
When they met, Sally had been 18 and Ron 20, they met in a shabby club which both of them were two young to be in and eleven months later Sally had their first baby, Dean. They never planned on getting pregnant but never used any protection so when Sally peed on that stick and the plus-sign appeared, they couldn’t really be shocked, although they gave it a valiant try.
Ron god drunk that night, like most other nights, while Sally stayed at their small apartment and cried. She cried for the baby she was going to bring to this world because she knew that they wouldn’t be able to take good care of it. They weren’t parents. She rubbed at her stomach and silently prayed that the baby would die before it even came out.
The first time Ron hit Dean he was one year old. They still lived in the small apartment on top of the grocery shop. Dean had colic so he had been crying all night. Ron had a major hangover and the baby’s screaming only made it worse. “God, why don’t you ever SHUT UP?” he screamed from where he and Sally laid in their bed. Unsurprisingly Dean’s screams only increased in volume. “Ron please don’t yell at him, you will only make it worse” Sally tried to talk some sense into her husband. Ever since Dean had been born Ron had become more and more violent and she was terrified every single day that he would lash out on Dean.
A short while after the baby was born he had started hitting her. And she took it. He was the one who paid for the apartment and she knew that without him she would wind up on the streets, with the baby.
Dean continued to scream from his place on the couch and Ron had had enough. He got up and marched over to the baby. “NO Ron stop, just please leave him alone, he will settle soon!” Sally ran after him but she wasn’t fast enough.
A loud SNAP silenced the entire apartment, Dean included.
Ron took Sally by the arm and dragged her back to their bed. “No, no let me check on him Ron, please just let me check on him!” but he didn’t listen. He threw her on the bed and then climbed on top of her. Kissing her with bruising force. She cried through the whole thing.
When Sally four years later got pregnant again and still hadn’t gotten herself and Dean away from Ron, she knew that they would never leave. That’s when she gave up.
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When Sam and Dean came home from school the house was silent and seemingly empty. That could mean two things. Either Ron was passed out somewhere in the house or he was down in the basement. Sally wouldn’t be home for a couple more hours from her job. Sam went over to the living room and flopped down on the couch. He took out his school books from his backpack and started working on his math homework when Dean joined him. Dean was in the middle of helping Sam with his algebra when he heard the sound of water running from the basement.
No no nonono not that not today not again please please nonono. Dean thought desperately. He knew what the water meant and he also knew that he had to get Sam upstairs and out of their father’s sight right now.
Dean stood up and gathered both his and Sam’s books in his arms and pushed them into Sam’s hands. “Dean what are you doing? I’m not done yet.” Sam looked confusedly up at his big brother but it only took a couple of seconds of Dean being silent until Sam heard the sound too.
“Dean…” Sam didn’t know what else to say. He knew what Dean was doing, he was protecting him like he always did. He wanted to protest, ignore or just do something that wasn’t just giving up and letting Dean take the punishment. Again. But as much as wanted to protest, he didn’t. He knew that the only thing that was important to Dean was that he, Sam, was safe and Sam knew that Dean beat himself up every time something bad happened to him even though it wasn’t his fault. Sam often heard his big brother crying at night.
“Sam, go upstairs and just…don’t come down until he tells you to okay? I’ll be fine. I know it’s scary and you hate being alone but...you’re not, right?” Dean waited for Sam to nod before he continued. “I’m just downstairs and it’ll be over before you know and I’ll be right up with you, ‘kay? Tell you what, you go up and continue reading that book I gave you and when I come up you can tell me what I missed?” Dean smiled when Sam smiled. He cupped Sam’s face and thumbed away the tears for the second time of the day before he quickly gathered Sam in a tight hug. The brothers almost couldn’t let go of each other but when Dean heard Ron making his way up the stairs from the basement he let go of Sam and watched his younger brother run up the stairs. Sam stopped halfway up and gave a hesitant smile to Dean, trying to provide comfort. Dean winked at him and nodded.
Dean suddenly felt one of Ron’s big hands grab painfully hard in his hair “Come here you little shit!” Ron snarled in his hair. Dean stumbled along as best as he could. He didn’t try to think of a reason for why his dad was doing this because that would be pointless. Most of the times there was no particular reason for the punishments and beatings but if there were, oh he would let them know.
They were halfway down the stairs when Ron suddenly let go of him. Dean, who wasn’t prepared and had problems walking down stairs as it was with his bad leg, tumbled down the rest of the stairs. He landed hard on the concrete floor, his right shoulder taking the hit. From his current place on the floor he could easily see the ice cold spray of water that was coming out of the old shower head. He could also see his dad going over there and locking up the shackles.
“DEAN. NOW!” Dean slowly rose to his feet and limped over to where Ron was standing but apparently he wasn’t fast enough and earned himself a hard slap across the face. It stung like it always did. But not in his face. Not being loved by your own parents. That stings. That burns.
“Strip.” Even though Dean was fully prepared for what was about to happen he couldn’t help the shiver that rippled through him like he’d been hit by lightning.
Standing in nothing more than his boxers, Dean barely had time to lay his clothes down on the floor before he was roughly pushed under the freezing cold spray. He gasped, couldn’t help it even though this was far from the first time he’s experienced this.
The cold water was almost enough of a distraction not to notice the rough hands on his wrist that locked his arms in place in the shackles.
“Don’t try anything like you did last time.” Ron snarled and then walked up the stairs and slamed the door shut.
For Dean, this part was always the worst, when he’s all alone down there with nothing but the cold water for company. As much as he hates his father he prefers when he stays with him. Being all alone in the cold dark basement makes him feel like he’s drowning more than the water does.
He was instantly developed in the cold water, became a part of it. It’s hard to think and he can’t do much but shake. Shake and wait.
Dean tried to twist his head away from the water because it felt like his head might turn into ice in a near future, but it was useless, the shackles doesn’t give him any chance to move around.
He huffed out a defeated sigh that sound more like a sob than anything else. He thought he heard a noise and recognized it as the shackles clanking together from the way his arms were shaking. He had no idea how long he had been standing there but from the way his legs barely could hold him up anymore and his thoughts were swimming around inside his head, he figured he most have been standing there for a good while now.
He realized that some of the wetness on his face was tears and he closed his eyes and thought about Sam. He needed to get him out of here.
chapter 2