Dollar Store Saviors

The pain screamed through his head. He thought the pain would have been with him earlier, but with the injury to his head and the nausea, he must have missed it.

Sam came back to his senses to hear John talking about how he wouldn’t need stitches.

Without warning, he began to struggle. John resisted for a moment until he saw Sam was staring past him. He turned, moving out of the way as Sam lunged at Dean just as he was pulling the trigger.

The bullet missed its mark and hit the ceiling while Dean and Sam tumbled off the bed and onto the floor.

Sam thanked whatever or whoever had given him the gift of his visions and just held Dean, aware that his father was prying the gun out of Dean’s hand.

John held the gun for a moment and then put it up, trying to come to terms with the fact his son, his soldier, had just tried to end his own life.

Sam lifted his head up to tell Dean he was sorry. Sorry he’d been a shitty brother who couldn’t even stop his big brother from being raped. Sorry he was so inept that Dean had to hustle pool with those rapists to get money for them to live off of. Sorry he’d been born so that Mary Winchester would have a crib to die over.

But nothing came out, because nothing mattered at that moment except taking care of Dean.

Dean couldn’t believe it had happened. He was avoiding looking at Sam and his lip trembled, holding back tears that were threatening to prove to everyone just how weak he was. He couldn’t even kill himself properly.

Worse, Sam was on top of him and the feeling was killing him. He hadn’t had full body contact like this since…since…. He shook his head as John came to stand over them. He couldn’t look at Sam and he couldn’t look at John and he couldn’t close his eyes because when he did, images came to him to assault every sense.

He arched back, straining his neck and feeling the tendons trying to hold his head in place. He needed to get away, but moving was agony.

Sam’s vision swam in front of him. He knew the blow to his head had knocked him a bit silly, but he couldn’t manage to get off of Dean at the moment. Logically he knew he had to be freaking him out. Then he saw and felt Dean arch and he thrust out his hand, hoping John would be there to understand what was going on.

John hurried over after putting the gun away and looked over the edge of the bed. Just then, Dean arched and Sam had reached for him. He’d grabbed on and pulled, helping Sam to collapse onto one of the beds.

John reached down and grabbed Dean then, not caring that the boy was flinching away from him. He threw him on the other bed and pulled him up by his upper arms.

“Look at me! Dammit, Dean!” John felt the fear and anger build up in him until he snapped and he slapped Dean hard across the face. “That’s the coward’s way out! What would your mother think of you doing something like-“

He knew he was crossing the line. He felt it when it happened, so he wasn’t that surprised when Sam sent him flying. What he was surprised about was that he lifted off the ground about three feet and slammed into the door hard enough to dent it.

Sam had fought the wave of dizziness when John had moved to get to Dean, but it hadn’t been soon enough to stop the action that caused the sickening sound of skin against skin.

He ignored his father and managed to get to Dean who was just sitting there, acting as if all of this was normal.

The reddened cheek clouded Sam’s vision and he turned on his father. “What were you thinking?”

John stood up and shook his head. “I wasn’t. God, I’m sorry, Sammy. Dean…” He knew he’d made another mistake saying his son’s name. He walked toward the bed and stopped when Dean flinched, feeling it as if Dean had plunged a knife through his heart.

Sam sighed, hating that things had gotten to this point. “Dad…just help me and then we’ll figure things out.”

John checked over the wound again while Dean stared blankly into the distance and Sam watched, trying to push away the images of his brother blowing his brains out.

Within a few minutes, Sam was bandaged and John was walking out the door, taking a walk to clear his head.

Sam pulled a chair over to sit by Dean. “Dean?”

Dean took a deep breath and forced his eyes to meet Sam’s. “I’m sorry.”

Sam shook his head. “No…No, don’t be sorry. This wasn’t your fault. It was their fault…the people who did this to you.”

Dean turned away again. “Dad hit me.”

“I wish I could have prevented that…for both of your sakes.”

“How did you find me?”

Sam was confused. “Find you…what?”

“That night. How did you find me?”

Sam swallowed, not sure how to explain. “I…I don’t know.”

“Don’t lie to me. I don’t deserve that from you.”

Sam bit down on his lower lip. He didn’t know how to talk to Dean while his older brother was looking off into space and seemingly numb to everything around him.

“You’re right. You don’t. Alright…I found you because I sensed you.”

“Sensed me?”

“I was coming to find you at the bar. I thought you were taking too long. Someone told me they saw you getting into something with two guys and heading off. I found a car, drove in this direction blindly, came to a dead end and then started to panic. That’s when I heard you.”

“You heard me?”

“In my mind, yes. I knew something was happening to you. I wasn’t sure what it was, but I knew it was bad. Then I followed that feeling until I found you. I wasn’t fast enough.”

“No. You weren’t.”

Sam closed his eyes for a moment. “You’re blaming me for this?”

“No. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

“We have to. You tried to kill yourself.”

“Better me than you.”

Sam grabbed his brother’s chin gently and turned him to face him. “You wouldn’t hurt me.”

“You don’t know that. I wanted to pull the trigger. I thought you were them…Pull the trigger...” His eyes narrowed as he tried to think of something that was just beyond his grasp and then they widened as the memory came back clear as day and he looked Sam straight on. “You killed them.”

Sam didn't bother to deny it. He had hoped Dean had forgotten after he had briefly touched upon it in the hospital the night of the rape. “No, only one. The other one got away.”

Dean stood and paced and finally turned to look at Sam, trying to make his little brother fit into the space in his mind where other murderers went. It was just one more thing he had in common with his rapists who would have killed him taht night. His brother wasn't his rapist, but Dean felt his rape was turning Sam into a carbon copy. “This right here? You becoming a cold-blooded killer?…This is why I’m poison to you.”

Before Sam could fight off the dizziness when he stood, Dean had walked out the door and Sam couldn’t help but wonder if it was for good.


TBC...