Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11070381.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage, Rape/Non-Con
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Dean_Winchester/Other(s), Dean_Winchester/Sam_Winchester, Dean_Winchester
      &_Sam_Winchester, Weecest_Relationship/Wincest_Relationship
  Character:
      Dean_Winchester, Sam_Winchester, Other(s), Bobby_Singer, John_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Prostitute_Dean, Hurt_Dean_Winchester, Dean_Winchester_is_Protective_of
      Sam_Winchester, Protective_Dean_Winchester, Hurt_Sam_Winchester, Sam
      Angst, Secrets, Dean_Has_Secrets, Sam_Finds_Out, John_Winchester's_A+
      Parenting, Anal_Sex, Blow_Jobs, Emotionally_Hurt_Dean_Winchester, Ashamed
      Dean_Winchester, Kidnapped_Sam, Sam_is_Missing, Fluff_and_Angst, Smut,
      Codependent_Winchesters, Worried_Bobby_Singer, Non-Consensual_Groping,
      Kidnapping, Worried_Dean_Winchester, Sam_Has_PTSD_-_Post-Traumatic_Stress
      Disorder, Post-Traumatic_Stress_Disorder_-_PTSD, Emotionally_Hurt_Sam,
      Bloodplay, Gags, Angst, Emotional_Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-06-03 Updated: 2017-09-20 Chapters: 8/? Words: 8035
****** Rockabye Baby ******
by WildFire35
Summary
     John never leaves enough money to pay the bills, so Dean does what he
     has to in order to make sure Sam has clothes to wear and food to eat.
     But what happens when Sam finds out how much Dean is sacrificing?
     And later, a case pops up pertaining to Dean's night job, and Sam is
     kidnapped. Can Dean save Sam in time? And even if he can, will he
     ever be able to fix their relationship? And most importantly, will I
     ever stop asking dramatic hook questions?
Notes
     Dean is 19, Sam is 15.
     I do not support child prostitution in any way. This is purely a work
     of fiction.
     The non-con doesn't come in until chapter 5.
     I don't own any characters from Supernatural. As always, I would love
     a kudo and a comment to know how I'm doing. Buckle up ladies and
     gentlemen, because here we go!
See the end of the work for more notes
***** Late Nights *****
"Gahhhh" Dean moaned as pain sliced through his lower half. He buried his head
in the back of the headrest and squeezed his eyes closed to hold back the
rising tears. The man pounded forward again, and Dean gasped as he felt the
knife-like pain stab through him again.
He bit his lower lip hard enough to draw blood. The metallic taste distracted
him from the pain behind him, where more blood was surely leaking out. 
"That's right. Cry out pretty boy. Use that pretty mouth of yours for
something" the man taunted, continuing the vicious pace.
"Uhhhhhhhhh" Dean gritted his teeth and threw his head forward again. He could
feel the man's hand on his back, sliding on the slimy sweat that coated both of
their bodies. Dean felt the man tense up and give a shout, before pumping in
once, twice, and then pulling out, leaving a blessed coolness behind. They lay
there for a minute, gasping for breath before Dean slowly started to pull his
clothes back on, wincing as his pants brushed his painful backside.
The man handed Dean a crumpled fifty dollar bill, which Dean stuck in his
pocket.
"Keep the change pumpkin" the man grinned, exposing his filthy, tobacco stained
teeth. He pulled Dean in for a last messy kiss, his tongue shoving roughly
inside of Dean's mouth. When they finally pulled apart, the man looking pleased
while Dean tried to hide his disgust.
With that, Dean climbed out of the semi-truck and watched as it pulled away.
The driver gave a loud honk on his horn as he left.
"You disgusting bastard" Dean yelled at the fleeting vehicle before collapsing
on the pavement. His head was pounding and he was sore all over. Blood trickled
from his bottom lip and tears pricked at his eyes. Dean laid his head in his
hands and silently let his tears flood out. He cried tears of pain, tears of
humiliaiton. He let himself swim in misery, but he didn't let it last long. The
night was wasting and he still had more business to do. Dean pulled himself to
his feet, groaning, and walked toward the nearby gas station. He entered the
cheap bathroom oblivious to the chashier's looks and stared into the mirror
after the door thumped closed behind him.
The buzzing fluorescent light above illuminated the cracked mirror and dirty
bathroom. Dean examined his face, doing his best to remove the red rings around
his eyes from his crying. He wiped the blood from his lip, making sure his lips
looked soft and pouty, and checked to make sure his clothes were arranged
properly. With one last deep, calming breath, he walked out into the chilly
night.
Dean shivered. He wasn't wearing close to enough clothing for the freezing
October night weather. He had on only a pair of low rise jeans peppered with
holes and a tank top that showed off his muscular arms and his entire chest if
he turned sideways. Shivering, he had to forcibly remove his arms from around
his chest and put them casually in his pockets as he leaned against a light
pole on the streetcorner. Dean made sure he looked inviting, showing off his
large lips that were perfect for.....well, anything the customer wanted. He
watched his breath turn to smoke and float out of his mouth while trying not to
shiver. It took only a few minutes before another semi pulled over and opened
its door. Dean climbed in, shutting the door behind him. He was glad. At least
when he was working he was warm.
Dean finally limped into the motel room at 3 in the morning. He pulled the
crumpled bills out of his pocket and counted almost three hundred dollars
before storing the money in the motel safe. It had been a good night. They
might even be able to afford a few non canned items from the grocery this week.
Dean knew he needed a shower, but he couldn't stop himself from checking on
Sam. He gingerly set himself on the mattess next to his sleeping brother. Dean
loved watching Sam sleep. He looked so calm, so peaceful. Dean lovingly brushed
Sam's hair out of his eyes and thought of a lullaby their mom had sung Dean
when he was a little baby. It didn't matter that Sam was fifteen. No matter
what, he would always be Dean's baby.
"Rockabye baby, rockabye" he sang.
"I'm gonna rock you, so rockabye baby, don't you cry" Dean's voice cracked on
the last few words, knowing Sam wasn't the one in danger of crying. Dean swiped
the back of his hand across his moist eyes and stood up. All he wanted now was
rest. He walked over to the other twin bed in the room and collapsed on the
lumpy motel matress. As soon as he lay down he instantly fell into a dreamless
sleep, not even bothering to remove his shoes.
***** Chapter S: Sammy, Stanford, and Spaghetti *****
Chapter Notes
     Sorry for the really long chapter, I just got started and couldn't
     stop. I have some pretty awesone ideas for the next couple chapters,
     and plan to update regularly, so make sure to check back in! (:
 
Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep. Beep.
"Sam, turn off the God-damn alarm", Dean groaned. He rolled over and shuddered,
feeling a wave of pain shoot through him. Dean bit his lip to hold in a shout
before hastily letting go. He had forgotten about his bloody lip from the night
before. As new blood trickled down his face, thoughts and images from last
night flashed through his head. The first man's filthy, tobacco stained teeth.
The cracked and dirty gas station bathroom. The chilly night. His breath rising
in a frozen cloud. But most of all, he remembered the pain, the humiliation,
the biting cold. Dean shivered even thinking about it. He closed his eyes and
did his best to push those thoughts out of his head. He had to stay calm while
Sam was still here.
"Sammy, if you don't get out of bed you're going to be late. Again" Dean
shouted. When he still heard no movement from next to him, he picked up a
pillow and threw it over.
" 'm movin' " Sam replied, sitting up. Dean looked over and felt his breath
catch in his throat. Sam looked gorgeous as the soft morning light fell over
his tousled hair and bleary eyes. His mouth was curved up into his cute little
"sleep smile" as Dean had named it. Sam laced his arms over his head showing
off his leanly muscled torso and stretched, sighing. 
"Put some pants on, you lazy ass" Dean said tossing a pair of jeans over. Sam
laughed his maddening laugh, his eyes crinkling at the edges and his mouth
opening to show off his rows of beautiful white teeth. Dean closed his eyes and
rubbed them with his fists. He had to focus on getting Sam to school, not on
mother-henning him. In another ten minutes both boys were ready to go. They
hopped into the Impala, Sam moaning about the awful chemistry exam he had later
that day. Dean nodded along, smiling when Sam stopped his bitter tirade to take
an air guitar solo in the middle of Journey's "Don't Stop Believing" when it
came on the radio. A few minutes later, Dean parked and dropped Sam off at the
local high school. They knuckle bumped before Sam ran off to join his friends. 
Dean watched him go, jealous that Sam's friends got to spend more time with
Sammy than he did. Eventually, Dean sighed and pulled away, driving back to the
motel. After locking the door behind him and checking all the salt lines, Dean
tossed his keys onto the bed-side table and headed into the bathroom. He turned
the shower onto hot and carefully took his clothes off. He examined his face
and body in the mirror, noticing how hard last night had been on him. His lips
were swollen and his chest was covered in bruises. A line of hickeys stood out
on his right thigh from a particularly possessive customer, and there was still
blood on his ass. Steam slowly started fogging over the mirror, so Dean stopped
his examination and climbed into the blesedly hot water.
He let the water run down his body, soothing his aching muscles. Dean stretched
and massaged his jaw which had locked up last night after his fourth blow job.
It had been a while since he'd worked that hard. Dean turned his face into the
spray, massaging shampoo into his scalp, basking in the feeling of the suds
slipping gently down his body. For the next 20 minutes, Dean carefully soaped
up his body and rinsed off before finally climbing out. He wrapped a towel
around his waist and sauntered back into the room. Beads of moisture glistened
on his muscled chest, and water dripped from his sopping hair. 
Feeling more like himself, Dean walked over to the safe and looked at the wads
of cash stored inside. It was time to make another run to the bank. Dean
searched through the room for a pair of pants besides what he had worn last
night and finally found a pair of old jeans at the bottom of his duffle. He
paired it with his Secondhand Serenade t-shirt and drove over to the nearest
Wells Fargo. Inside the building it was cold, almost too cold. For a second
Dean remembered how cold last night had been with his breath pluming in front
of him in a great cloud, before he managed to pull himself back to the present.
"I can help you over here" a man called. He was friendly, dressed
professionally in a button down shirt. His hair was neat and unlike Dean, he
had no purple bags under his eyes, one of the many side effects of too many
nights sleeping in cheap motels.
"How may I assist you today?" the man asked with a smile.
"A deposit please" Dean replied, handing over his own debit card. This account
was too important to be formed on a stolen card. As the teller typed in
information, Dean imagined Sam there instead. This was the type of life he
deserved.
"Your balance is $14, 362" the man said.
"How much would you like to deposit?" he waited patiently as Dean fished the
crumpled bills out of his pocket.
"I have $615" Dean said, pushing the result of many nights of hard work over
the counter. The man, whose name was Allan according to his name-tag, counted
the bills and printed off Dean's receipt. He wished Dean a good day, to which
Dean politely nodded before driving back to the motel. Once there, he paid the
owner for another night, before going back to his room and collapsing on one of
the beds.
Christ. He had hardly any money in the account and Sam was almost finished with
his freshman year already. And Dean had heard him talking about Stanford.
Stanford! He'd have to start working extra nights if he was going to help Sam
reach his goal. And Sam would if it took Dean every night for the next three
years. Sam would have that Allan-like life, only as a lawyer. Not a banker. Sam
was too smart to be a banker.
The thoughts chased each other though Dean's head before he fell into a deep,
silent sleep. He was woken up hours later by the jiggling of the door handle.
Leaning up on his elbows he watched in confusion as Sam walked into the room.
"Home already Sammy?"
"Dean, its 4:15" Sam replied, slouching off his backpack. Surprised, Dean
looked over at the cheap digital clock. He was supposed to pick Sam up from
school at 3:45.
"I'm so sorry Sammy. I just came back to the motel for a minute and...." Dean
trailed off. He couldn't explain how he needed the extra rest ,because he
hadn't slept for three nights straight now. Come to think of it, it had been
weeks since Dean last had a good night's sleep. On the evenings he wasn't
working he was fighting off nightmares of large men and no money. But he
couldn't tell Sammy any of that.
"It's fine Dean. It was a pretty day anyways" Sam paused, seeming to pick up
where Dean had left off.
"Where were you last night, Dean?" Sam asked, meeting his brother's guilty
gaze.
"With a nice blonde chick. You should have seen the ass on her" Dean replied
smoothly. Sam continued to stare at him, and it was Dean who ended up looking
away. It was as if Sam had X-Ray vision or something. Dean closed his eyes.
There was no way Sam could see through his lie; he was just being paranoid.
"Man, I want to be just like you", Sam sighed, leaning back in his chair.
"Being with who I want, eating what I want, driving where I want", Sam smiled.
"No Sammy. Your life is gonna be better than my life. You're going to have a
good life" Dean said fiercely. Sam looked up, surprised at Dean's statement.
They sat like that for a minute, each absorbed in his love for the other before
Dean finally broke the silence.
"You hungry? What do you say to spaghetti, Sammy?"
***** Old Habits Die Hard *****
The week continued as it always did. Dean was being as frugal as possible with
their money, but John was more than two weeks late, and even after Dean's night
of work, they were still almost out of cash.
"Do it for Sammy", Dean whispered in the mirror that night as he pulled on his
holey jeans and exposing shirt. He carefully applied a little eye-liner to make
sure his eyes looked wide and innocent. Checking on his brother one final time,
Dean slipped into the cold night, feeling the freezing fog drift over him,
raising goose-bumps on his bare arms. He leaned against a lightpole and was
pleased when a truck pulled over in minutes. He climbed inside, and hopped out
about ten minutes later with fifteen more dollars in his pocket.
The truck pulled away, and as he saw it dwindle in the distance, he became
aware of someone else on his streetcorner.
"This is my corner. Scram" he said, turning to look at the intruder. But as he
caught a glimpse of the person under the dull circle of yellow light, he felt
his breath catch in his throat.
Standing there in the cold night on the cracked sidewalk was Sammy, wearing
basketball shorts and a tear stained grimace. 
"Why, Dean?", Sam whispered, his breath hitching.
"Sammy-", Dean started toward him, wanting to take him out of the cold.
"Why?", he questioned again, staring into his hero's green eyes. And Dean
realized that he couldn't look back into those chocolate eyes that were melting
his heart. He was too ashamed, too embarrassed. He was dirty and defiled, and
he couldn't look at sweet little Sammy who still loved him.
"C'mon, Sammy. Let's go back to the motel room. It's too cold for you to be out
here", Dean said, his eyes downcast. He was suddenly aware of how revealing his
clothing was, and he felt ridiculous for the eye-liner he had put on before
going out. 
Sam let Dean lead him by the shoulder back to where they were staying. Dean
unlocked the door and both of the boys walked in, their cheeks flushed from the
cold. Dean got Sam situated back into his bed, before making a move to go over
to his own bed.
"No, Dean. You're sleeping with me tonight", Sam stared at Dean, his gaze
unwavering.
"Aren't you a little old for that?", Dean asked, trying to avoid the
inevitable.
"I know you're going to try to sneak out again. So you're sleeping with me. If
you leave, then I leave with you". Sam struck his chin out in defiance, daring
Dean to argue.
"Alright , Kiddo. Scoot over, though. I've got to be able to fit my big ass on
the bed". It took some wiggling and adjusting, but both boys fit surprisingly
well together. Sam nuzzled his head into Dean's chest, and damn, it felt good
to Dean. Call him sinful, but he loved the feeling of his brother's warmth
against him, the feeling of their legs tangled together under the sheets.
Sam's alarm woke them up like usual the next morning. Sam reached over to turn
it off, and he lay there for a minute, savoring the feeling of being so close
to Dean. He felt Dean's muscles ripple as he stretched, and he sighed as he
leaned back on his brother's arms. It was Saturday, so neither boy had anywhere
to go. They just lay together, enjoying the sight and feeling of the other as
sunlight slowly crept over their bodies.
But over their usual breakfast of cornflakes, the dreamy atmosphere was ruined
as Sam jumped straight to the questions they had left unanswered last night.
"Dean?" Sam asked, picking at his food.
"Yeah?", Dean replied, glancing up from his own breakfast that he was happily
enjoying.
"Why do you get us money the way that you do?" Sam asked, avoiding eye contact
with Dean.
"Sammy", Dean said, a warning growl entering his voice.
"Why not play pool, or cards, or anything?" Sam blurted out, glancing up at
Dean. He was on the verge of tears, his eyes round and wet.
"Because it pays more than anything else", Dean said, his eyes warning Sam to
end the conversation.
"But Dean-"
"Damn it Sam!  I'm doing it to take care of you. I don't like it, but I don't
have any other choice", Dean shouted, his fist slamming onto the table.
" 'm sorry", Sam said, his head downcast. A tear dripped off of his face into
his cereal, followed by another. It was all his fault. Dean was hurting himself
for him. If he wasn't so stupid and so useless, maybe Dean-
Sam's train of thought was interrupted by Dean's hand falling on his shoulder.
"It's not your fault Sammy. I'm old enough to make my own descisions, and I
did", Dean said soothingly.
"But it is, Dean. If I wasn't so useless, you wouldn't have to earn so much
money. It is all my fault!" Sam pushed back his chair and ran to their room,
locking the door behind him.
Dean let him go, sadly watching him leave. He had to give him space. And time,
lots of time. Dean returned to his breakfast. After all, he was going to need
his energy today if he was going to make them any money. And no matter what Sam
said, he was going to do whatever it took to keep them out of the cold. And,
what could he say? Old habits die hard.
***** Just People *****
Chapter Notes
     Hey you! Thanks for sticking through the story this far. I really
     can't tell you how much this means to me! I apologize for how long it
     took for this chapter to be posted. I went through about eight
     different drafts before I decided that I needed a plot chapter, not
     another feels one.
     This fic has changed from where I initially saw it going, so I also
     apologize if this chapter is boring or seems disjointed from the
     rest.
     As usual, I would LOVE feedback, so please leave a kudo or comment!
     Anyways, happy reading!
"Dean, what do you say we look around town tonight? Bobby said there might be a
malicious spirit out here. He e-mailed me three obituaries", Sam said later
that night as he walked back into the kitchen. He was shuffling through the
papers in his hands he had printed off, delaying looking up. In truth, this was
less about the case and more about him fixing his fight with Dean.
"Dean?", Sam asked, and upon hearing no reply, he looked up at the empty room.
"Dean!", Sam shouted, fear entering his voice. He ran through the small motel
room, and after only a minute of searching, could guarantee that he was alone.
Whipping out his cell phone, Sam pressed Dean's name and paced nervously
between rooms as he listened to the continued ringing.
 
In a semi-truck about a half of a mile away, Dean continued his kiss with a
filthy stranger, ignoring the bitter taste of cigarettes in his mouth. As he
came up for breath, he heard his phone ringing with the special ringtone that
he had given only to Sammy. It was a chiming that had entranced 8 year old Sam
before he was allowed to have his own phone. Dean was brought back from his
thoughts by the stranger coughing.
"Do you need to get that?", he asked. Dean could tell by the threat in his
voice that if Dean picked up, he could look for money elsewhere. The phone
continued to ring as Sam's face peered up at him from the screen. Finally, he
looked away, setting his phone off to the side.
"No", Dean said, reaching for the man. It's not important". 
 
After Dean's phone went to his voicemail for the third time, Sam angrily tossed
his phone on the table, on top of the printed obituaries.
"Crap. Crap. Crap. Where would Dean go?", Sam asked himself, running his hands
through his wavy hair. He squeezed his eyes shut, desperately thinking of every
place that Dean might sneak off to. As realization swept over him, Sam's eyes
snapped open, and he pelted toward the door, stopping to grab a room key and a
leather jacket. Out in the crisp evening air that was steadily getting colder,
Sam shivered, searching for the impala. It was gone.
"Dammit, Dean", Sam cursed under his breath, turning and walking up the street,
gripping the worn leather of Dean's jacket. After two hours and three
unsucessful miles of searching streetcorners, the sky was darkening, and Sam
realized he had forgotten his phone back at the motel.
He turned around, and was prepared to head back when one last semi-truck pulled
up at the gas station. Making up his mind that this would be the last truck
driver he talked to, Sam marched over to the idling car. A man in his late 30's
hopped out of the cab, and started filling up the gas tank. He was well
muscled, not overweight like a lot of truck drivers. While he waited for the
tank to fill, Sam approached him.
"Excuse me, I'm looking for someone", Sam started, unsure how to continue.
After all, how do you casually ask a man if he picked up your brother, who, by
the way, was a prostitute? Sam bit his lip in worry. This would never work.
"Well, what do they look like, pardna'?", the man asked, his accent bleeding
through on the last word.
"He's about 6 foot tall. He has green eyes and brownish hair, kind of swept up,
like this", Sam said, mimicking how Dean fixed his hair in the morning.
"And what might he be wearing?", the man asked.
"Um.....jeans, full of holes, and a tank top", Sam said, thinking back to last
night. "He might of had a bit of makeup on". Sam said the last part hesitantly,
but he knew that every detail was crucial for helping to find Dean.
"Where might I have seen him at?", the man prompted.
"Probably a streetcorner, maybe leaning on a lightpost". Sam said, his face
turning a flaming red.
"Ooooooooh", the man stretched out the word as realization dawned on him.
Turning to Sam, hjs eyebrows creased in concern. "You do realize you're too
young for that, right?"
Sam hurried to explain. "Not like that. He's my brother". 
"Lucky for you then!", the man said, smiling wide. "I know just where he is".
"Oh, thank you!", Sam said gratefully, glad to know that his brother was okay.
"Here, let me just screw this cap back on, and then we can hop in the truck.
I'll take you to him", the man said as he finished filling up the truck. He
turned to put the gas pump back on the stand.
"No, really. I can walk. Just give me the street names", Sam said, pulling out
his notebook to write in. 
"Now hold up one minute. I can't leave someone as young as you wandering around
that part of town alone. Not to mention, it's almost dark. No sir, I tell ya.
You'll be riding with me", the man said in finality. Sam looked up at the
quickly darkening sky. It would be night soon, and he hadn't brought a
flashlight. Considering his options, he realized that this man would be his
best bet.
"Alright", Sam said warily, looking up at the tall man.
"Why that's just dandy. Glad you made the right decision. Just hop into that
side of the cab", he said, pointing. Sam walked around and opened the door,
boosting himself up into the seat. Looking around, he noticed two more men
playing cards back in the area they appeared to live in. The first man hopped
in and started the semi.
"Hey Ricky. Why do we got a pipsqueak up here?", one of the men in the back
asked.
"We're taking him to find his brother, Steve. Remember that dude back at the
streetcorner, the one wearing makeup?".
"Sure do", the other man in the back piped up. The rest of the ride was mostly
silent, filled with the hum of tires on the road and the slap of cards as they
hit the table.
As Sam watched, they moved downtown, before passing the town limits completely.
"Um, I think we're going the wrong direction", Sam said nervously, looking out
his locked door. There was no way he could make the eight foot jump out while
they were going sixty miles per hour.
 "Untwist your titties. We're almost there", Ricky said, signaling and pulling
over to the side of the woods. As soon as the car came to a stop, Sam grabbed
his door handle, unlocked it, and jumped.
He soared through the air, hurtling outwards. But right before he cleared the
cab, he felt a hand tighten on his jacket, yanking him backwards. His head
smacked into the car, and everything fell into blackness.
 
"Hey, Sam. I'm back. I had to go grab groceries", Dean called out. He set a bag
containing a few odds and ends on the table. He was pretty proud of himself.
Usually Sam was the sly one, not him. But his grocrry store cover up was pretty
slick; he had even packed different clothes to change into. He had hurt Sam
once. He wouldn't do it again.
"Sammy, I got you a root beer", Dean called as he unpacked boxes and cans. When
Sam still failed to appear, Dean set down the tomato sauce he was holding and
went to their room to investigate. What he found chilled his blood. The room
was empty. 
Running back to the kitchen, Dean looked at the table and noticed Sam's phone
sitting on a few papers. A closer inspection revealed these to be obituaries.
As Dean examined them, Sam's phone started ringing, breaking the silence. Dean
jumped, and almost dropped the phone before he shakily looked at the screen. It
was Bobby.
"Sam, thank God", Bobby said as soon as Dean slid the phone to green.
"Bobby, it's Dean"
"Dean. Tell Sam not to go hunting. I was wrong, it's not a spirit. I don't know
how I could have been so stupid", Bobby rambled.
"Bobby, what is it?", Dean asked, frightened.
"I just missed all of the evidence pointing at-"
"Bobby. Slow down. What is it?", Dean repeated, dreading the answer.
"People, Dean. It's just people", he said.
***** The Chase *****
Chapter Notes
     Warning: This is where the non-con comes in! If you will be triggered
     by assault, non con touching, kidnapping, or threatening, please read
     no further! There is no rape in this chapter, but there is non
     consensual touching and assault.
     This is a dark chapter. It is also filled with love and deep meaning
     and feels, but it is dark. So please know what you are in for before
     you read! As always, I hope your heart doesn't break in half, (mine
     did).
See the end of the chapter for more notes
When Sam next came around, the first thing he noticed was the throbbing in his
head. The second thing he noticed was that he couldn't move his hands or feet.
Sam was sitting in the back of the truck, bound to a chair. He was blindfolded,
gagged, and utterly helpless. Testing his restraints, he pulled and tugged,
trying to be silent. When the bindings didn't budge, Sam tried to calm his
racing mind to figure out what his next move would be. That was when the hand
landed on his shoulder.
"Gmmmppphhh", Sam screamed, the sound blocked by the gag. A hacking laugh,
interspersed with coughs, came from behind him, as the hand slowly stroked his
shoulder.
"The boy's awake , Ricky", the man said, allowing his hand to caress Sam's
chest. Meanwhile, Sam tried to surpress a rising moan of disgust as the
stranger's fingers felt over him. 
"Good, take your time with him", Ricky replied. Immediately, the man's hand
dropped to Sam's crotch and squeezed. Sam jumped and gasped in shock.
"Stay above the waist, Steve", Ricky warned.
"Awwww, you's no fun", Steve muttered, grudgingly moving his hand back up. For
the next twenty minutes, Sam was forced to endure the man's spidery touch rub
up and down his back, over his stomach and around his hips.
If he had use of his mouth, Sam would have yelled at him, cursed him. As it
was, a muffled moan of protest was the best he could do. Finally, after what
felt like an eternity, the truck parked and was turned off.
Steve's hands disappeared, and Sam let out a grateful sigh. He listened, trying
to pick up the movements of Ricky, Steve, and the third man , all of who he
knew were in the car. He strained his ears, waiting for the sound of a
footstep, or maybe the sound of someone bumping into something. He was startled
by the unexpted feeling of metal as a sharp object was pressed against his
throat.
"Stay very still. I wouldn't want to accidentally slip", Ricky whispered in his
ear. His hand holding the knife twitched, and a single drop of blood slid down
Sam's neck. Ricky put his lips on Sam's throat, licking up the blood. His
stubble tickled Sam's neck as he fought to reamin still. Ricky's tongue
caressed upward, moving over to lick a stripe down the side of Sam's face. As
his slick tongue slid over Sam's cheek, he shuddered, unable to hold in the
movement.
"What'd I say about moving?", Ricky whispered, before he took his knife and cut
down the side of Sam's face, from next to his eye down to his chin. More blood
fell, puddling on the curve of his jaw. As Ricky started licking up the blood,
a few tears slipped out of Sam's eyes, turning pink as they traced a path down
to his chin. Ricky let out a breathy moan, and more tears fell from Sam. 
Please, Dean. I need you, Sam thought in despiration. He didn't know how long
he could hold on.
===============================================================================
"Bobby, I've checked every grocery store, convenience store, and cheap hang out
in the town", Dean said into his phone as he steered the Impala back towards
the motel. The seat next to him was littered with crumpled notes and cups of
empty coffee. The sun was rising towards midday, and Sam had been gone since
last night.
"What about the libraries?", Bobby asked, his voice crackling out of the
speaker by Dean's ear.
"Checked", Dean said.
"Museums?"
"Checked".
"Gas stations?"
"Checked", Dean confirmed, fear bleeding into his voice.
"Balls", Bobby muttered, silently thinking of anywhere else Sam could have
gone.
"Look, Bobby. The Impala's low on fuel, and so am I. We'll do Sam no good if we
both become zombies. I'm going to refill the tank and then take a power nap.
Call me back if a new idea hits you". Dean flipped his cellphone closed, and
pulled into the nearest gas station. He parked, and sat in the car, staring at
the empty passenger seat.
A wave of sadness washed over him as he saw where Sam shoukd have been, and
Dean gritted his teeth as tears fell down his cheeks. A gasped sob escaped his
throat as he thought of what could be happening to Sam. Dean surpressed a
shudder, before he screamed, slamming his hand on the Impala's dashboard. For
the next few minutes he just cried, letting his pent up emotions out. Finally,
he took a shaky breath and wiped his red eyes. He had to be strong for Sam. He
had already let him down once, and he wasn't planning on doing it again.
 Exiting the car, Dean started pumping gas. As the tank was filling up, he
walked into the store, buying a large cup of black coffee.He paid the cashier,
but as he was walking out, he decided to ask the man about Sam.
"Excuse me", he started, trying to get the man's attention. The cashier rolled
his eyes, but looked over at Dean.
"Yes?", he asked, impatience in his voice.
"I'm looking for someone. Did you see a boy, around 15, here by himself last
night?" Dean waited, hoping against all odds that his reply would be different
than the last twenty he had recieved.
"I dunno. You seriously think I remember every customer that comes through
here?", he asked in scorn.
 "Please- it's my little brother. I have to find him", Dean pleaded. 
"Sorry, I don't remember any kids by themselves last night", he said. The
cashier started to turn away, silently begging the man in aisle 5 to just
choose a bag of chips already and come to the checkout line to save him from
this wacko.
"Could I look at the security cam footage?", Dean asked in despiration.
"Sorry, customers aren't allowed behind the counter", the cashier replied. With
that, he turned to ring up the man who had finally chosen barbecue chips, after
almost ten minutes of browsing. Dean waited until the cashier had handed the
man his change before he walked back to the counter. The cashier only glared at
Dean.
"Do you think this might change your mind?", Dean asked, setting a twenty on
the counter. The man's eyes instantly lit up as he eyed the cash greedily.
"Sorry, rules are rules", he replied, eyeing Dean to see what he would do. As
thoughts flew through his head, Dean ended his indescision by placing another
twenty on the counter. The cashier licked his lips eagerly, before snatching up
the money.
"But rules can be bent too. Be quick about it", he said, before turning away
again. Dean wasted no time, hurrying behind the counter. He picked up the
remote and turned back the footage to last night, before forwarding through it
again.
The first time, he watched the store. When Sam didn't walk in, he reround the
footage.
The second time, he watched the parking lot. For a while there was nothing, and
Dean was about to give up when he noticed a short someone standing by a semi-
truck in a leather jacket. 
His leather jacket. Dean jolted in recognition. He jolted again when he saw Sam
climb into the car. As the semi-drove off, Dean paused the video, which had
caught part of the liscence plate. Dean hastily pulled out his notebook, and
wrote down: 341 - K?? Having gotten what he needed, Dean burst out of the
store, running towards his car. He hopped in, and gunned the engine, heading
the direction he saw the truck leave in the footage. As he tore across town, he
pulled out his phone and called Bobby. The chase was on.
Chapter End Notes
     Chapter 6 should be up really soon, as in about a week soon. I just
     want to say, I appreciate you reading this far. Really, it means a
     lot! The amount of support I've received on this story is incredible!
     So one more time, thank you! I hope to see you soon in Chapter 6. (:
     -WildFire35
***** Rescued *****
Chapter Notes
     This turned into another plot chapter, but get ready, because the
     next chapter will be full of feels! For now, you'll have to settle
     for what little heart you have left being stabbed. Repeatedly. Enjoy!
Dean sat in the Impala, staring at the parked semi-truck in front of him. He
had found it, and, he prayed, Sammy too. The license plate glinted under the
orange streetlight, reading 341-KIH. Dean continued to tap his knuckles, his
heart racing and his pulse pounding. At this point, he would have already
stormed the car if it weren't for Bobby. He was on his way up after he had
convinced Dean to wait for backup.
But it hurt, knowing how close Sam was, and yet, how far he was too. Right this
very moment, they could be hurting his little brother, and he wasn't stopping
them. He was sitting here, waiting. There was a cracking sound as Dean's hands
clenched tightly around a pen he was fiddling with. Dean took a deep breath,
trying to calm his frazzled nerves. As he sat there with his eyes closed, he
jumped when a hand tapped on the window. 
Dean swore, before climbing out to see a familiar face. 
"Bobby", Dean said in relief, climbing out and hugging him. Bobby hugged him
back, and they stood together for a few seconds, taking comfort in each other.
Finally, Bobby pulled away.
"Is that where Sam is?", he asked, pointing his thumb at the semi. Dean only
nodded. Bobby pulled a pistol out of his jacket, and opened the barrel,
checking to make sure it was loaded. Dean followed suit, and after a few
minutes of equipment checks, they were ready to go.The two men advanced toward
the trailer, pausing outside. They made eye contact one last time, preparing
themselves for what they would see inside.
Dean made the first move, knocking on the door to the truck. A man in his late
thirties answered, opening the door and climbing out.
"What can I do for you pardna'?", the man asked, an easy smile on his lips. 
"You can give me my brother back, asshole", Dean replied, pressing the barrel
of his gun against the man's forehead. The man tensed, the smile sliding off of
his face. 
"Look, I don't know-", 
"Don't lie to me", Dean seethed. "I am not afraid to blow your godamn head off
if that's what it takes to get my brother back, so cut the shit. Tell me where
he is right now, or you'll be telling the big man downstairs where he is".
"H-h-he's in the semi. B-but look, I n-n-never hurt him, okay? It was all Steve
and Ricky, I didn't do nothin' to him, I swear", the man babbled. Dean shoved
him over to Bobby, who handcuffed him to the door handle of the semi. Then,
with a nod, Dean moved inside.
The cab of the semi was empty, filled with the usual detritus accrued on long
road trips: fast food wrappers, maps, and cheap paperback books. Dean moved
quickly toward the curtained off area in the back, staying as silent as
possible. Taking a steadying breath, he prepared himself before storming
through.The first thing he saw was a man sleeping on the ground, covered with a
blanket. The second thing he saw was another man siting in a chair, smoking,
his face shocked. The third thing he saw was Sammy.
Dean quickly sprang into action, pointing his gun at the second man as Bobby
took the sleeper. They made quick work of handcuffing the two, before Dean
turned  toward his brother, who was tied to a chair. Sam's eyes were closed and
his head slumped to the side. Blood was caked all over his face and still ran
down his neck, and cuts were scattered over his entire body. Both of his eyes
were swollen, and his face was a quilt of purple, yellow, and blue bruising.
"Sammy", Dean whispered as he cradled his brother's head. Tears welled in
Dean's eyes as he saw his brother, who he had failed to protect. When Sam
didn't react to Dean's touch, Dean's worry turned to outright fear. He
scrabbled around Sam's neck, trying to find a pulse. After a few seconds of
searching, he found it, beating quietly and sluggishly. 
"Bobby, we need to get Sam out of here", Dean said, turning to the older man.
"On it", Bobby said, reaching behind Sam and cutting him free. Together, they
lifted him and gently carried him out to the Impala, where they layed him in
the backseat. Immediately, Dean hopped in, and drove off, leaving Bobby to
follow behind in his truck. 
"Hold on Sammy, you're safe now", Dean said, ignoring the stoplight ahead of
him and blowing through the intersection. His progress through the city was
easy to track as countless cars layed on their horns in anger. But Dean didn't
care; he just needed to get Sam somewhere safe.
By the time Bobby arrived at the hotel, Dean had already been there for twenty
minutes. Sam was laying on the bed, and Dean was tending to his wounds. He was
already icing his eyes, and was working on bandaging up his many cuts. As Bobby
helped, they worked silently, neither one wanting to acknowledge their
feelings. As they were finishing up, Sam twitched, marking the first movement
they had seen from him. Dean dropped the gauze he was holding, and immediately
knelt by Sam's head. As he watched, Sam's eyes cracked open, his caramel gaze
disoriented. When he finally settled on something, it was Dean. Recognition
flashed through Sam's eyes. That was when he started screaming.
***** Innocence *****
Chapter Notes
     This chapter includes rape warnings! There is nothing graphic, but
     the topic is broached. Sorry MotherRussia, I couldn't see any other
     way for this to go. The next chapter should be happier. :(
     -WildFire35
See the end of the chapter for more notes
"Sam, Sammy, it's me, Dean", Dean said, his hands outstretched, trying to calm
Sam. Sam was shaking, his eyes wide with fear as he backed into the wall.
"Please, I'm sorry. I-I-I didn't know-", Sam broke off into choked gasps as
tears ran down his face.
"Sammy, you're okay. You're safe", Dean said, his heart breaking as he saw the
pain in his brother's eyes. But despite his comforting words, Sam was still
terrified.
"Just leave me alone", Sam cried out, sobs wracking his skinny frame. Tears
leaked out of Dean's eyes as he felt Bobby's gentle hand on his shoulder.
"Leave him be, Dean. He's not right, yet", Bobby said, guiding Dean out of the
room. He closed the door behind them, cutting off the sound of Sam's sniffles. 
"Bobby, he thinks I'm gonna hurt him", Dean said, looking at his friend in
anguish. Dean's mind filled with all of the times Sam had trusted him, relied
on him. And now he had let him down.
"There's a reason why", Bobby said quietly. Stunned, Dean turned to face Bobby,
quivering in anger.
"Why would I ever hurt him? All I ever do is take care of Sam. Everything I do
is for Sammy", Dean replied, his eyes shining in anger. He didn't even know how
Bobby could accuse him of such a thing.
"I was talking to one of the men, the first one we caught outside the truck",
Bobby started. He paused and cleared his throat, before continuing.
"I couldn't figure out why they would kidnap him, so I asked", here Bobby
stopped completely, making eye contact with Dean.
"Well, what is it? Why did they do it?", Dean asked impatiently, wanting to
understand.
"It was because they met you earlier that night, at work", here Dean's face
flushed from red to white as Bobby's words washed over him. Bobby knew about
his night job. Bobby's eyes flicked back up to Dean's before returning to his
scuffed boots.
"After you refused them, ahem...", Bobby cleared his throat again, and paused
searching for the right word.
"Service", Dean supplied bitterly, already knowing what Bobby would say.
"Yes. After you denied them service, they were angry. Furious. And then little
Sammy walked up and-", here Bobby broke off as his voice thickened. He couldn't
even think about what was next.
"Bobby, they didn't-", Dean asked, stunned. The World seemed to halt as he
watched Bobby struggle through tears. 
"Bobby?", Dean growled, watching the man's face. Bobby nodded. Red clouded over
Dean's vision and he howled. He groped blindly next to him, finding a vase of
flowers that he smashed on the ground. Dean screamed in fury and pain as he
knocked over the table and looked in the mirror.
He saw his sweaty, angry face, before he punched it, splitting his relfection
into hundreds of tiny shards. Dean sank to his knees, sobbing and holding his
bleeding hand as he realized that the bastards had taken one thing that Sam
would never be able to get back: innocence.
In the other room, Sam lay on the bed, tears running down his cheeks as he
listened to Dean's anguish. 
"I'm so sorry, Dean", Sam whispered as he shoved his face in his pillow. This
was all his fault.
Chapter End Notes
     Sorry for the really short chapter, it's all I coukd get out. Let me
     know what you think! After the long hiatus, I hope chapter 7 was
     worth it. Hopefully chapter 8 will be up much quicker. (:
     Anyway, I love to hear from any Faithful Readers that have made it
     this far. You are my inspiration. <3
     -WildFire35
***** Silence *****
Chapter Notes
     If you're reading this, then hello from the past! I know I've been
     awful about updating, but I hope this chapter was wrth it! Let me
     know what you think!
     -WildFire35
See the end of the chapter for more notes
Bobby knocked twice on the door, before gently sliding it open. Sam sat on the
bed, staring at his hands. On the table next to him was the last untouched meal
Bobby had cooked- pancakes and eggs. Bobby picked up the plate before setting
down a grilled cheese sandwich and bowl of tomato soup. He risked a glance up
at Sam, who was in the same position he had been in for days. 
His hair was greasy after more than a week of not being washed and his face was
an alarming shade of purple from the bruises, but Bobby knew that the real
issue couldn't be seen. He gently set his hand on Sam's shoulder before exiting
and gently closing the door behind him. As the door slid shut, Bobby pretended
not to see Sam's tears. After all, his dignity was all that he had left.
Next, Bobby visited Dean out in the garage. He was leaned over the Impala, a
torque wrench in his hand as he idly worked on the engine. Day after day he
came out and fiddled with something or other that was in perfect condition.
Dark bags hung under his eyes, which were bloodshot from his nightly booze
consumption. 
"Hey Dean, I've got lunch inside if you want some", Bobby said. Dean wiped his
hands on his jeans and closed the hood before turning to Bobby.
"Sure thing, I'll be right in", he said, faking a smile. The two men went into
the house and ate in silence, before Bobby took the lead.
"Dean, I think you should go see Sam", Bobby said. Dean froze, sandwhich half
way to his mouth.
"Bobby, I hurt him. This is my fault. I c-can't look at him without-", Dean's
voice cracked as he trailed off, staring at the scarred wooden tabletop.
"Dean, you couldn't have stopped that. But you can stop what's happening to Sam
now", he said.
"Bobby, I can't", Dean whispered.
"Oh, get over it. You were doing the best you could to care for that boy, and
doing a darned good job of it too. But he needs you now more than ever, and
you're falling to pieces. He looks up to you, Dean. So you get in there and you
help your brother, damnit", Bobby huffed out. Dean thought for a moment before
he set down his sandwhich and stood up. Bobby smiled as he walked toward's
Sam's room.
"It's a shame you're a hunter", Dean called over his shoulder, "you're almost
as inspirational as Oprah". Bobby rolled his eyes.
"Got the butt too", Dean winked, before entering to see his brother.
Sam looked up as Dean walked in.
"Hey Sammy", Dean said, strolling to stand in front of him. Sam averted his
eyes, his bangs falling to cover his expression.
"Mind if I sit down?" When Sam didn't reply, Dean eased himself onto the bed
next to him, the springs creaking as the bed dipped under his weight.
"Looks like I need to watch how much of Bobby's cookin' I'm eating", Dean
chuckled. The brothers sat in silence a moment before Dean cleared his throat.
"Look, Sam. I know you've been through some seriously shitty stuff, but I need
you to talk to me", he said. When Sam remained silent, he continued.
"The house is too quite. I need you bitching about how messy I am and telling
me about your latest research. I need you to turn down my music and sit in
Baby. I need you to eat the rabbit food in the fridge, because otherwise
Bobby's going to make me eat it....", Dean trailed off again. "I just need you
again, Sammy", Dean finished, staring at his lap. As he contemplated his hands,
his attention was caught by a sniffle from the boy next to him. Looking over,
he saw that Sam's eyes were red and a few tears were running down his face,
which was twisted as he tried not to try.
Dean paused for only a moment before he leaned over and wrapped him in a hug.
"Let it all out, Sammy", Dean said as he patted Sam's back. Sam rested his head
on Dean's shoulder as sobs wracked his body, his breath hitching. They sat like
that, each clutching the other tightly as a wet spot on Dean's shoulder grew,
but Dean didn't mind. He was just glad that a little part of Sam was back. Dean
patted Sam's back and stroked his hair until eventually the worst had passed. 
"I love you, Sam", Dean said to his brother's silent form. And even though he
didn't reply, Dean knew that Sam loved him too.
Chapter End Notes
     As always, leave a kudo and a comment! I treasure each comment and
     horde them away for rainy days, so make sure to give me one! Thanks
     for reading this far- you truly deserve a medal!
     -WildFire35
End Notes
     I hope you enjoyed it! If you liked this, please leave a kudo and a
     comment, and check out my other work.
Please drop_by_the_archive_and_comment to let the author know if you enjoyed
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