Within Me

Pairing: Sam/Dean
Rating: NC-17 (this chapter like...PG-13)
Warnings: Rape, violence, angst, but only the angst in this chapter.
Summary: Sam and Dean get caught up in something they can't handle.
A/N: This is for a friend whom I adore. She somehow thinks I'm talented so I figure I'll amuse her. She's the amazing one and she gives me plot bunnies as charity. LOL


Set right after Faith.

Dean grinned at Sam's annoyed look. "Oh come on! You know you love these small towns."

"That's usually where the worst things are so no, I don't love these small towns." He frowned. "Come on. There's only like...five buildings."

"Don't be silly. There's at least eight."

He looked over at Dean, looking over the journal in the passenger seat. "Whatever. Look, why are we here again?"

"Dad sent me a text. He gave me the name of this town so that's where we are."

"What? No coordinates? No 'I'm glad you're still alive, Dean'? No 'I love you, Dean'?"

Dean swallowed the lump in his throat. He wished that Sam had never told him how he'd called their father about Dean's health. Knowing that he hadn't bothered to find out what happened before sending the town name proved one thing to Dean. His father thought he had already died. Sam was crap as far as figuring out coordinates and honestly didn't have the patience. The text was sent with the idea that Sam was alone now.

"He's busy, Sammy."

"You're his son."

"Sam...please."

Sam looked over again and saw that Dean was looking ill. Regardless of the fact that it was proven he was healed, Sam still worried over him now more than ever. He pulled over and put his hand on Dean's arm, making Dean look up at him. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm just upset."

"Why? It's not a big deal. You don't see me getting upset about it, do you?" He smiled his award winning smile, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"No, I don't. That's what worries me." He looked up at where he had parked, missing as Dean's face fell. "Hey....check it out. I think we found it."

Dean looked up and saw the sign. "Errol's Tavern. Yeah...I guess this is it. If not, I'm done looking."

"Errol, New Hampshire...it looks pretty simple to me. Nice...creepy. I'm expecting some crazy guy to come out and kill us and make us all statues in his weird wax museum or something."

Dean rolled his eyes. "No more late night movies for you."

He got out of the car and walked into the tavern, Sam following close behind. He had to admit that the place was charming. A bar lined the wall on the left and there were about five tables in the middle with four booths on the right wall. Toward the back there was an old pool table and the restrooms.

He sat at one of the booths and looked at Sam as he sat down. "Empty tavern...now that's freaky." He smiled and then looked up as a loud whistle could be heard from outside. Within minutes the place was filling up and Dean just grinned. "Oh yeah... That's the type of small town I'm talking about."

An older woman came out from the back and started serving people, never asking anyone what they wanted. She stopped in surprise when she saw the Winchesters. "Visitors? Well we don't get them often. What can I get for you?"

Sam smiled his sweetest smile. "Well, I'd like a soda. Same for my friend here." He ignored Dean's sigh of annoyance. Since the heart attack he'd decided that Dean shouldn't drink any more alcohol.

"And I'd also like it if you could tell me of a nice place to stay around here. My friend and I wanted to vacation a bit and we just drove until we got tired of it. And here we are."

She studied him for a moment and then shook her head before looking at Dean. "He always so full of sugar you want to brush your teeth?"

The shocked look on Sam's face and the quick words made Dean laugh. He'd never been in the position he was in. It was always Sam that dug him out of the places his mouth got him. "Not always."

"So why don't you tell old Mae what you boys are really doing here?"

Dean didn't think he would tell her right away just to see what he could learn. "We have a friend that investigates weird deaths...."

"Ah..." Her wise face drooped and the sadness set in. "We try to ignore it, but it's become too difficult lately. It's the Hamilton house you're looking for."

Dean smiled. "How about a couple of beers and something for you, too. Then you can tell us about it."

Mae grinned. "Little shit eating grin....I like you." She walked to the bar and got three beers.

Sam just glared at Dean. "This isn't how it works."

"Well, things change, Sammy."

Sam rolled his eyes and moved quickly as Mae shoved him over so she could sit across from Dean. "Now, honey, why would you want to look into that old house? It's best to just stay away from it."

"Well, Mae..." Dean shook his head. "Sorry. I'm being rude."

Sam's eyes widened. He didn't know that Dean was able to even tell when he was being rude.

"I'm Dean. This is Sam. What I'm about to tell you is probably going to give you a good laugh."

"At my age I live for them, sweetheart. Try me."

"We try to help get rid of some of the bad things in the world. We'd like to learn if there's something causing these deaths that we can help with."

Mae leaned forward to whisper conspiratorily. "You mean like ghosts and demons and such?"

"Yes, ma'am, that's correct."

"You seen these things...first hand?"

"Yes, I have."

She nodded. "Helps a woman my age to hear that such things exist. Means the good must, too."

Sam smiled remembering the argument he had with Dean just a few weeks earlier.

"Now, Mae, what can you tell us about this house? It seems you know plenty about it."

"Oh..that I do." She took a swig of her beer and Sam noticed that people were just helping themselves to what they wanted and realized that this seriously was the smallest town he'd ever been in.

"Well, young man, that house is over a century old. I couldn't tell you the exact age, but it was built right after the civil war. Barnabas Hamilton built it and he built the mill over yonder that one of those new fangled places bought and made into a factory. It helped to save this town." She sighed. "Oh there I go, talking about nothing. Anyway, he built it for himself and his girl. Antonette was her name I believe. I'm not sure because all the old papers list her as Anna for the most part. But it seems when I heard that story from my great-grandmother that she said it was Antonette."

Dean glanced over at Sam, hoping that he was remembering everything that he couldn't. "Your great-grandmother...she knew the family?"

"She was born in 1880 and her mama worked for the Hamiltons as a cleaning girl when she was just a child. Ten years old...maybe a bit more...that's why I told you the house was built when it was. She was born in '61 so it couldn't have been long after the war that the house was there."

"No, you're right about that. So...what happened?"

"The Hamiltons didn't have any children. They were married right about the time the house was finished and lasted somewhere around five years before they disappeared."

"Disappeared?" Sam had to admit that the whole situation was a bit odd, but he was so intrigued by her telling of it.

"Yup. One day he came in and fired all the help. He was angry about something. Anyway, he and his wife kept mostly to themselves after that day. She could be seen inside the house, but she'd never come out anymore. And he would still go to church. People began thinking she was with child. Sometimes...the more wealthy or...snooty....liked to keep their womenfolk from prying eyes during that time."

Dean smiled then. "I can understand that."

Sam frowned. "You can?"

"Well..not for the reasons they did it back then, but sometimes when you love someone and they're vulnerable for one reason or another you're willing to do anything to keep them safe from harm." He looked pointedly at Sam. "Unfortunately sometimes it ends up with the protector smothering the person he's trying to protect."

Sam looked down at his lap and tried not to hear the message in Dean's voice. He wasn't being overprotective. He loved Dean and he couldn't stand the thought of him being hurt again like last time. He realized he wasn't exactly making a good case and turned his attention back to the conversation. Apparently Mae had told Dean how intelligent and wise he was. Sam was still reeling from the change in positions.

"Mae, would you like another drink?"

She grinned and shook her head at Dean. "No, thanks, honey. I've got to get back to work here in a minute, but let me try and get this story out first."

He nodded to encourage her to continue.

"Well, anyway one day she was seen out and about again. Not often, but sometimes. But after she would go out she'd disappear for another week. Then out she'd venture again. It was obvious she wasn't pregnant, but maybe ill. She always appeared tired and rail thin."

Dean's eyes twinkled as he realized she was recounting the story like a bedtime tale, probably the way it had been told to her. "So nobody ever knew if she was sick or not?"

"Nope, not at all. Then one day Mr. Hamilton said he was going to move his wife out west. He was considered crazy by that time and half the area was just glad to see him go. But nobody ever saw him go. It was as if he'd disappeared in the middle of the night." She sighed at the mystery. "The town died for the most part. The mill was shut down and people around here struggled and I mean struggled hard. So some men, upset at the life they'd been forced to lead, headed up to the Hamilton house to demand the caretaker tell them just where Hamilton was and what they were supposed to do since he'd never sent them their wages and never sold the mill to someone who would. But there was no caretaker. The house was in obvious disrepair. But the creepy part was what they found when they went inside."

She shivered and Dean reached across the table and patted her hand. "It's okay, Mae. I've heard a lot of creepy things." He winked and she seemed to relax.

"Well, everything was still there. Food in the kitchen. Clothes in the closets. Bed tore up as if someone had slept fitfully in it and then never made it. Nothing was packed. Everything was just left..."

Dean glanced over at Sam and then back at Mae. "You weren't kidding when you said they just disappeared. So...what happened to the house and the things?"

"Oh, folks took everything out of that house and sold it. Not for greed, mind you. It was put in trust in this town and helped to support people for a long time. Long enough for transportation systems to help the men travel and send money home and that lasted long enough for one of those companies to buy up the mill and make it the factory it is today." She grinned.

"So what about the actual house?"

"Someone bought it. A young couple I guess. Horrible thing, but he got upset one night and killed her and then himself. They had a young son. He was raised by his nanny in that house and then lived there alone for years until his death in 1958. He wasn't an old man really, but he was lonely. Whatever took his parents touched him somehow I think."

Dean frowned. "Yeah, but he grew up. It wasn't as if the wound was fresh. Maybe he should have just gotten over it."

Mae looked up at him with empathy, wondering why he sounded so defeated.

Sam just kicked himself over and over mentally. He knew that Dean's new attitude was his fault. Every time Dean had the slightest thought of mourning their mother he'd stop by telling himself that Sam was going through worse and Sam hated himself for doing that to Dean.

"You don't get over the death of your parents, honey. They're the people that keep you safe and when they're gone..." She shrugged and then shook herself. "But where was I?" She stopped when someone called her name. "Be right back." She left to tend to her customer and left the boys alone for the moment.

Sam fiddled with the label on his bottle. "Dean, about what I said before...about you and mom and me and Jess."

"Don't."

"Dean, please....I need to apologize."

"Well maybe it would be nice if you'd think what I need for once. Right now I need to not talk about it." He looked up at Sam and his eyes were bright with unshed tears. He had a look of anger, but also of pleading. It broke Sam's heart.

"Yeah...okay, Dean. Whatever you say." He hoped Mae would get back soon before he did anything else to destroy the one person who was his safety in the storm, but he wondered if he'd already done it and promised himself at that moment that this case would be their last for awhile. He was going to let Dean know how he felt about him and how much he cared about him and maybe, just maybe, they could both begin to heal.

TBC...