Rating: Unfun!NC-17 - teen!chesters
Warnings: Underage Non-Con, OMC
Spoilers: General (for all aired episodes)
Disclaimers: SPN & characters are owned by their various creators.
Summary: Sam POV. Sam is given a choice and has no choice but to take it.
It was harder to get out of the apartment the second time because it was a school holiday.
Sam was supposed to stay home and celebrate the nation’s veterans along with everyone else, but instead he was packing his backpack like he had somewhere to be. Dad wasn’t around but his brother wanted to know where he was going when he could be laying around getting an extra 25 extra hours of sleep like everybody else.
He told Dean to mind his own fucking business.
Sam thought closing his eyes would help this time, but it made everything worse. When the guy was finished he pushed a wad of five dollar bills into Sam’s hand. He even patted it a few times to make sure that Sam understood that leaving it behind was not an option. Sam couldn’t figure out the guilty nod Rob gave when he finally pocketed the cash and left. It sickened him that maybe he was helping by taking the money. Somehow making it easier for the beer soaked conscience of the guy he‘d left zipping up his pants. Stumbling out of the trailer from the back door, Sam tossed the jeans he’d been wearing in a dumpster and put on the only other pair he had left.
His shaking fingers paused on the metal buttons.
Dean would notice dumb shit like that and it would get him in trouble. He had to buy some more pants at the second hand store.
And he could even use the fifteen bucks Rob gave him.
Some days were drunker than others.
Sam tried to leave the trailer when he saw a bottle of booze on the table but the man’s fist stopped him like a brick. He felt even closer to hysteria when the man was almost calm about unbuckling his jeans (same grease stained jeans everyday) and careful about taking Sam’s hands and pushing them together like a prayer between his legs. Sam squeezed his eyes shut and concentrated on the bruises swelling on his face. He didn’t understand why the rough fingers moving his hands up and down grasped him hard enough to hurt, and when the guy told him he did good all he could do was stare at the whiskey bottle.
All he could think about was how it would sound when he shattered it against a skull.
When he got home he told his brother he got the black eye from some jackass at school. And Dean bought it because why wouldn’t he?
The man kept picking at Sam’s jacket and wouldn’t stop asking why he couldn’t take it off. Sam started crying when he realized that being scared just made Rob more gentle with his voice and hands, but Sam stopped when the guy told him that he liked the way it sounded. But Sam’s part to play still didn’t require much of him. All his clothes stayed on, his boots laced, and his hoodie zipped. He just had to do was lay down on the scratchy carpet on the rec room floor. Sometimes he had to let Rob use his hands. All he ever had to do was just wait until it was over.
In fact, sometimes Sam wasn’t even sure why Rob even needed him around.
Listening to the man wheezing into his neck was like laying in his bed and waiting for his father and brother to return from days on the road. It was like being hunched in the backseat of the car listening to the police scanner announce where his family might try to go kill themselves next. It was an agonizing patience that he knew how to endure without complaint or drawing notice.
“I wanna see you on the weekend, Sam,” he touched his collarbone, his wrists, all the places the clothes didn’t cover. “Just a couple times.”
“My dad will notice I’m gone.”
Sam slowly sat up, the now familiar damp spot under his hand feeling more like an inconvenience than anything else. He’d switched to sweatpants because he could wash them easy and Dean never dug them out of his gym bag.
“Tell your dad you’re going to the movies.”
“I don’t go to the movies.”
He told himself that he was doing this for his family and it wouldn’t last forever. Like any pain it would fade away until one day he wouldn’t remember anything besides that an ache had been there once. Because he knew his father would lose interest in this town and move on eventually. The universe had been working like that without a hitch for as long as Sam could remember and he couldn’t imagine it failing him now.
“I’ll take you to the movies if you want.” Rob offered.
Sam took his money and left.
“What’s your problem, Sammy?”
Dad always asked the important questions at the dinner table.
“Haven’t heard you say a word all day.”
He was staring down at his plate of untouched food that sat between his father’s and brother‘s. If his dad had been paying closer attention he might have noticed that Sam hadn’t said a word in a whole lot of days. He also hadn’t made his bed. Or did the laundry. Or even touched the heap of plates in the sink that were usually all for Dean. He imagined what would happen if he just started screaming as loud as he could. Screaming until something in his throat gave out and nothing came out anymore.
Looking at his father, Sam shrugged.
“Yeah,” Dean said. “You haven’t talked about school in forever.”
Sam mentally scratched one person off the list of the oblivious. Someone had noticed he wasn’t having many conversations these days, but it was the person who now spent even less time than dad around here.
“You’re still going right?” Dean asked. “To school?”
“He’d better be,” dad took another helping of leftovers. “We moved three districts over just so he could get into the high school he wanted-”
“Can we leave?”
Sam’s abrupt question silenced them.
“Leave?” dad repeated.
“J-Just pick up everything tonight,” Sam stammered. “Take it and just go somewhere else.”
His father exchanged a look with Dean that made Sam’s frustration shift into anger.
“You guys make me leave all the time. Why can’t we leave when I want to, huh? Why can’t we do what I want to do-”
“Okay, okay, settle down,” dad was really looking at him now. “I just didn’t expect to hear that comin’ outta you.”
Sam focused on moving his food around with his fork.
“After all the noise you made to get us to come here?” dad said. “I thought I’d have to look into one of those places down by the water so we could really move in.”
“What if I heard there... there were people looking for us?”
That got all that attention he wanted real quick. All the wrong kinds. If he said police, his dad would want to know when, why and who? If he said locals, his father would want to know when, why and who? If he said anything at all the common denominator would always come down to Why didn’t you come to me with this immediately, Sammy? How could you be so incompetent? How could you be this goddamn stupid? How could you let that mother fucker touch-
“I heard that too,“ Dean said. “I heard that manager asking around about the car.”
Sam’s heart started pounding so hard he thought they might be able to hear it, the bare mention of one small piece of the secret didn't seem like it could be real when said out loud. It hovered there in the air over their dinner table and made his face burn and his stomach twist into knots. But their dad suddenly relaxed like he’d gotten good news.
“Don’t worry about it, Sam,” Dean grinned. “It don’t mean nothin’.”
“Shouldn’t we go?” Sam asked. “Shouldn’t we get out of here?”
“The car always gets questions,” dad said. “By the time any cop catches up with their own paperwork you’ll be graduating.”
“We should go now.” Sam tried to sound resolute. Like when a teacher announced a failed grade. Or when his father said No. “We should-”
“Yeah, we heard that part, Sam,” his father tossed down his fork. “What the hell is goin’ on with you?”
Sam tried hard to calm down. He’d gone too far. If his family got too close they’d see everything. And they couldn’t see everything. They couldn’t even see a little piece of it or Sam wouldn’t be able to look at them again. He wouldn’t be able to talk or see. He wouldn’t even be able to breathe-
Dean was looking too close at him now too.
“I’m… I’m gonna take a walk,” Sam pushed back his chair too fast and almost fell. “I-I’ll be back later.”
Pushing open the door, he ignored the rattle of overturned silverware in his wake and his father‘s angry voice. As soon as he found the sidewalk all his thoughts had turned back to the next day, and the exact hour that he’ll have to appear in the rec room again. Stopping on the corner, he watched the evening traffic and the loners walking fast to get to the liquor store before it closed for the night. It got him to thinking about how he should solve his own problems. No one else on the planet had some smiling personal committee of their own ready to handle bullshit when it hit the fan. A man had to step up and deal with it or shut up and take it. Like Rob had said himself, it wasn’t like Sam was some helpless little kid anyway. Oddly enough, the thought brought along the first semblance of a smile he’d had in days. His hand flexed in his jacket pocket over the pistol he’d been carrying around for five years.
He could do this all by himself.
And his family never had to know.
to be concluded