Bred in Bone Verse
folder
Supernatural › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
6
Views:
5,177
Reviews:
5
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Supernatural › Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
6
Views:
5,177
Reviews:
5
Recommended:
1
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own Supernatural, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
Hurt
Hurt
Foster homes for the most part weren’t that bad. Most had too many mouths to feed and too little space. Child Services was usually overrun with small children taken from unfit homes. Sam could understand why most of the children were here. A lot of the kids came in so frightened of their shadows that they peed themselves if an adult spoke to them. Then there were the others, the ones like him.
Teachers at school, well meaning souls he was sure, had noticed a bruise here and there. Noticed the state of his clothes. They tried to contact his dad, who Sam had told them was out of town on business. It turns out that fifteen was not old enough in Denver, Colorado to be on your own. Dean was in Montana chasing who knows what coordinates Dad had sent. He had no clue where his dad was.
He had a friend this time though Vin. The boy was pretty and pixie like when he was still, but deadly predator when moving. They had instantly been kindred spirits. Vin had turned nineteen last week and would be leaving the wonderful state of foster care as soon as he graduated. This family could have kicked him out at eighteen but had let him stay through school. He had signed up for the army. Sam couldn’t imagine it. Soft hearted child of nature like Vin, who only fought when pushed into a corner becoming a hardened soldier like his dad.
Vin Tanner hadn’t travelled around the country like Sam had. He was from Texas, having just made it to Colorado. Still, he’d managed to live on the streets for nearly four years before CPS had finally pinned him down. He taught Sam what he could about finding food and staying safe on the street after finding that Sam had sold his ass again. Sam had worked through most of his money before the system had trapped him. If he wanted to leave, to run and be there when his dad or Dean came back for him, he needed cash.
He couldn’t believe he had let himself get to this point again. After his breakdown in Utah he thought he was finally getting his head together. Six months later he was back on the street and alone. Dean had only been gone two weeks and his head was messed up again. He needed his brother to come back. To make everything all right, and he just couldn’t understand why Dean didn’t need him like he needed Dean. The mark on his arm burned constantly now. It pulsed with every heartbeat. Dean. Dean. Dean.
Vin showed him how to avoid joining the gangs of Purgatorio, the small section of town that not even the cops entered after dark. Vin taught him all the dirty tricks Dean knew and had been trying to drill into him for years. Sam had always avoided fighting when and if he could. Spiting his dad had earned him more than one bleeding kidney or black eye. He could knife fight better than Vin, but on the few occasions when they were able to get far enough away from the city to practice with guns, they found that they were both crack shots
He helped Vin practice reading after Vin introduced him to the librarian, Ms. Netty. The tough old bird made Sam feel safe. He could see why Vin liked her. Ms. Netty helped him outline his life plan for civics class. He thought it was a good plan. If he could keep his grades up he could get into college with a scholarship. If he could live.
He found over the course of the next month a new word that pulsed through his veins right along side Dean’s name. If. If. If.
He traced Dean’s initials over and over with his knife. He didn’t want to give his brother up. Yet he knew Dean would never follow him to college. He would ask, ask without asking. Without saying the words, but he knew soul deep that the answer would be no, always no. Dean would choose hunting. Dean had chosen it years ago, had thrown his entire life and being into it. The only time he surfaced for air was if Sammy really truly needed him, and then it was only to tread water. Then it only lasted for a moment before he raced right back down into the dark that Sam was running from. If. If. Dean. Dean.
He left that foster home with barely a day to spare before Dean’s return. He didn’t want his brother to know how he had let himself be taken. He left his iron knife for Vin exchange for the curved blade the other boy had favored. It was the only message Sam could leave for Vin. Be safe, don't forget me.
He waited outside the house Dean had left him in. He didn’t even let his brother get out of the car, not even to rest. The house wasn’t theirs anymore. As he slid into the passenger’s seat he thought about his life plan. He turned to Dean, stared into his green seaswept eyes. They looked tired and red rimmed from too much driving and not enough rest. It hurt to think about leaving Dean-- it hurt every damn time--but Dean had been leaving him for years.
Tbc…
Foster homes for the most part weren’t that bad. Most had too many mouths to feed and too little space. Child Services was usually overrun with small children taken from unfit homes. Sam could understand why most of the children were here. A lot of the kids came in so frightened of their shadows that they peed themselves if an adult spoke to them. Then there were the others, the ones like him.
Teachers at school, well meaning souls he was sure, had noticed a bruise here and there. Noticed the state of his clothes. They tried to contact his dad, who Sam had told them was out of town on business. It turns out that fifteen was not old enough in Denver, Colorado to be on your own. Dean was in Montana chasing who knows what coordinates Dad had sent. He had no clue where his dad was.
He had a friend this time though Vin. The boy was pretty and pixie like when he was still, but deadly predator when moving. They had instantly been kindred spirits. Vin had turned nineteen last week and would be leaving the wonderful state of foster care as soon as he graduated. This family could have kicked him out at eighteen but had let him stay through school. He had signed up for the army. Sam couldn’t imagine it. Soft hearted child of nature like Vin, who only fought when pushed into a corner becoming a hardened soldier like his dad.
Vin Tanner hadn’t travelled around the country like Sam had. He was from Texas, having just made it to Colorado. Still, he’d managed to live on the streets for nearly four years before CPS had finally pinned him down. He taught Sam what he could about finding food and staying safe on the street after finding that Sam had sold his ass again. Sam had worked through most of his money before the system had trapped him. If he wanted to leave, to run and be there when his dad or Dean came back for him, he needed cash.
He couldn’t believe he had let himself get to this point again. After his breakdown in Utah he thought he was finally getting his head together. Six months later he was back on the street and alone. Dean had only been gone two weeks and his head was messed up again. He needed his brother to come back. To make everything all right, and he just couldn’t understand why Dean didn’t need him like he needed Dean. The mark on his arm burned constantly now. It pulsed with every heartbeat. Dean. Dean. Dean.
Vin showed him how to avoid joining the gangs of Purgatorio, the small section of town that not even the cops entered after dark. Vin taught him all the dirty tricks Dean knew and had been trying to drill into him for years. Sam had always avoided fighting when and if he could. Spiting his dad had earned him more than one bleeding kidney or black eye. He could knife fight better than Vin, but on the few occasions when they were able to get far enough away from the city to practice with guns, they found that they were both crack shots
He helped Vin practice reading after Vin introduced him to the librarian, Ms. Netty. The tough old bird made Sam feel safe. He could see why Vin liked her. Ms. Netty helped him outline his life plan for civics class. He thought it was a good plan. If he could keep his grades up he could get into college with a scholarship. If he could live.
He found over the course of the next month a new word that pulsed through his veins right along side Dean’s name. If. If. If.
He traced Dean’s initials over and over with his knife. He didn’t want to give his brother up. Yet he knew Dean would never follow him to college. He would ask, ask without asking. Without saying the words, but he knew soul deep that the answer would be no, always no. Dean would choose hunting. Dean had chosen it years ago, had thrown his entire life and being into it. The only time he surfaced for air was if Sammy really truly needed him, and then it was only to tread water. Then it only lasted for a moment before he raced right back down into the dark that Sam was running from. If. If. Dean. Dean.
He left that foster home with barely a day to spare before Dean’s return. He didn’t want his brother to know how he had let himself be taken. He left his iron knife for Vin exchange for the curved blade the other boy had favored. It was the only message Sam could leave for Vin. Be safe, don't forget me.
He waited outside the house Dean had left him in. He didn’t even let his brother get out of the car, not even to rest. The house wasn’t theirs anymore. As he slid into the passenger’s seat he thought about his life plan. He turned to Dean, stared into his green seaswept eyes. They looked tired and red rimmed from too much driving and not enough rest. It hurt to think about leaving Dean-- it hurt every damn time--but Dean had been leaving him for years.
Tbc…