Condemned to be Free

Pairing: None for this chapter
Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Rape aftermath, angst (I try to keep it real so be careful reading it)
Summary: Dean's been raped and Sam has to try and figure out how to help him through it.
A/N: I'm sitting here debating whether I can do this fic justice. Anyway, I'm going to keep it up.

Sam wasn't sure how to break the news to his dad and there was a strange feeling creeping up his spine that he'd done the wrong thing.

"What is it? Are you hurt? Is Dean hurt?" John had the sense he would be getting bad news when the phone rang. He'd ignored the boys long enough and knew he had to make his excuses to them soon or lose them to the bitterness and feelings of abandonment he'd fed to them.

"It's Dean. Something happened."

"Where are you?"

Sam rattled off the town and the hotel name. "Dad, something really bad has happened."

"I can be there in an hour."

"What?" Sam snapped out of his daze at finally talking to his father after so long. "No...No, you can't be here."

"If you and Dean need me I'll be there."

Sam felt his anger coil inside of him like a snake. "You'll be there for us?"

"Don't start..."

And the snake struck. "Who the hell do you think you are?!?"

"I'm your father! You will not talk to me-"

"Fuck you! I called you when Dean was dying and you did nothing!"

"I didn't have to. I knew you found the person I would have sent you to if I'd gotten to you first."

Sam's grip tightened on the phone. "Stop. Don't say that. We didn't need names. We needed you. Dean needed you. I needed you. I thought..." He bit down on his lower lip as it started to tremble. "I thought I was going to lose him. I can't lose him."

"Sam, tell me what happened."

Sam drew in a shuddering breath. "I was too late, dad. I didn't save him."

"He isn't dead..."

"No, but I'm beginning to think he wishes he was."

"What happened, Sam?" John's patience was wearing thin.

Sam inwardly shrugged, not sure why he was stalling. He refused to act as if Dean had anything to hide. "He was raped." The silence was palpable and that's when Sam heard the soft sounds of night on the other end of the line. "Where are you?"

John just choked out the only word he could say at the moment. Sentences were totally lost to him. "Driving."

"You're already on your way?!?"

John clearned his throat. "What do you mean he was raped?"

"Just what I said. Two guys grabbed him and...I wasn't with him. I found him, but they'd already...they would have killed him."

"How did you get him away?" John dreaded the answer, but he knew he had to ask.

"I shot them." Sam closed his eyes seeing the moment again. He had always thought by seeing a death he caused would replay in his mind and fill him with feelings of guilt, like Jessica's death had. He only felt relief and something that closely mirrored a sick pleasure at the look on the bastards' faces when he'd fired.

"Dammit, Sam! What if they get to the cops?"

"One of them won't."

John nearly dropped the phone. "You killed someone?"

"Bullet through the head tends to help with that, yeah."

"And the other?"

"He got away while I was getting rid of the other body. Then I got Dean and took him to the hospital."

"The hospital...Cops?"

"Yup."

John sighed. "You know we can't get involved with the cops long term."

"I don't plan on needing them for long."

"Sam, snap out of it! You're not hunting this guy down."

"Why not?" His voice rose and he didn't even care anymore if someone heard him. "He raped my brother. I'm already hunting the thing that killed my mother and my lover so why the hell can't I hunt the thing that raped my brother?"

"Okay. I'm not arguing with you about this. We'll handle this together."

"That's a first."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means you can't waltz into our lives and take over. Dean has enough of a problem standing up to you and he's more vulnerable than ever now. I won't let you take advantage of that."

"He's my son. I'm not going to ask for your permission to-"

"You'll do what I say. You're not in charge anymore. Dean needs me, not you. If you come here then you help him the way I tell you to."

"You little-"

"Your word or I pack him up and leave right now."

There was more silence as the battle of wills raged with no sound. Finally John sighed. "We'll talk when I get there. I won't make any plans on how to handle things without your say so. Okay?"

"I guess it's going to have to do. I'll see you soon." He gave John the room number, but told him not to knock. "Dean's having nightmares and privacy is important to him. Just call me when you get here and I'll let you in."

"I'm about 40 minutes out."

"I'll see you when you get here."

"Sam....I'm-"

"Not now. Dean's our priority, okay?"

"Yeah, okay. Goodbye, son."

"Bye."

Sam hung up and leaned against the wall. The last 24 hours played back to him and he thought about the faces of those men and the face of his brother. He remembered the moans Dean made while being examined and how he'd had to hold him down. Finally he let himself think of the feel of his brother in his arms. Hugging Dean had always been comforting, but this was different. Dean had been frightened and clinging and sobbing. Sam had been the one giving the comfort.

The tightness gripped his throat then. He tried to swallow the lump forming and shoved his phone into his pocket. He wrapped his arms around himself and squeezed tightly. It was as if his body were about to break into pieces and fly outward. Holding himself together physically was the only way he seemed to be able to pretend he could do it emotionally.

The burning in his eyes alerted him to the fact he was about to be in trouble. As his lip began to tremble again he squeezed his eyes shut. I have to be strong.

Nearly an hour passed, but it felt like seconds as he gritted his teeth against the inner pain tearing through him.

"Sam?" John had seen his son standing so still outside the door and was concerned. He was so still and quiet. Not even the slightest movement had escaped.

Sam opened his eyes slowly, not willing to move too fast and disturb the fragile calm he'd been able to claim. None of that mattered when he saw the wet eyes of his father looking at him. Stern and distant was the look he'd become accustomed to in those eyes, but now he saw only worry and sadness. Now he looked like a dad and not a commander.

Sam was vaguely aware of his father's arms wrapping around him as he fell to his knees. The tears came and caused him to shake badly. He felt the hands rubbing his back and stroking his hair. His father's hands seemed to be searching for the right place to touch to make the pain go away, but Sam couldn't form the words to tell him nothing would make the pain leave him. He had witnessed a pain greater than his own in Dean and it haunted him.

When Sam had calmed down, John pulled back enough to see his youngest son's face. "Sam...I'm so sorry. What can I do?"

A scream tore through the air from the room they knelt in front of.

Sam just held back more tears and looked at his father. "Pray."

TBC...

I think that sucked, but I wanted to get some things accomplished. Luckily, I think this is about finished only because I think I'm rusty as hell right now. However, I may end up thinking of some other stuff to do and that will make me work on it more. Anyway, thanks for reading!