I'm back!!! Sorry to all those are waiting for more chapters of Home Again. I ran into writer's block. Hopefully I can get back to it.
Warnings: Ok, kiddies. This story deals with thoughts of suicide and child abuse. If this isn't your cup of tea, turn back now!
Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own Supernatural. If I did we would have seen a brotherly hug by now. This was written purely for fun.
Thanks to Kay, my beta. Without her, my stories would be full of typos. Well, enough talking …on to the story.

Sam had been abused everyday of his life that he had lived with his foster parents. From the ages of six to seventeen, everyday was filled with the pain of broken bones and cracked ribs, and the terror of 'Is this the day they go too far?' Not that anyone else knew about his secret. He had been warned many times during the eleven years he had been living with Derek and Jennifer Abbott.

"You ever tell anyone about this and the police with find you dead in an alley. We'll tell them you simply ran away. Another tragic end for a street kid."

To his shame, he believed them. The idea terrified him because he knew, deep down in his soul, they would kill him if they thought he had stepped out of line. They wouldn't hesitate or blink an eye. So while he lived with them, he never told another living soul.

Sam often thought and dreamed about his family – his real family. He knew he had a father and brother out there somewhere. Jen told him so. Well more like she spat it at him during one of her many rants about his worthlessness.

"…just like that crazy father and brother of yours." As soon as the words had left her mouth, Sam whipped his head around to stare at her. At first, she was surprised. However then she got a sick grin on her face.

"Oh, that's right. You didn't know that, did you? Poor little Sam doesn't know what a fucked up family he has." She said, the glee she had was like that of a cat cruelly playing with a mouse.

"What do you mean?" the young man was almost pleading for more information. He had never heard anything about his real family. However, the information he wanted more than anything else in the world became just another toll to torment him.

"Sorry, hon. Can't tell you that - wouldn't want it to damage your fragile, young psyche." The two adults realized denying him this would hurt more than their fists or feet. They would also endlessly tease and taunt him.

"Derek, sweetheart, exactly where does Sam's family live again?" Jen asked her husband, making sure Sam could hear them.

"Isn't his dad in Florida drunk in a jail cell? I don't know about his brother." Derek replied, playing along with his wife in their game.

"Oh no, dear. His father is in the ground already. You remember he got shot trying to rob that woman. The brother – who knows what happened to that psycho?"

In the beginning of this new game, Sam couldn't hide his interest which caused them to laugh long and hard at their son. After a while, he learned to ignore their taunts, refusing to be a part of their game. At this point, they just stuck to hitting him.

To deal with the pain both during and after a beating, he allowed himself to daydream about his father and brother. Did they look like him? Were they tall like he was growing to be? Yet, there were two questions which haunted him above all the others. Did they miss him as much as he missed them? Although, he had never met them, their absence felt like a hole in his heart that never went away. Were they searching for him? He knew it was probably naïve and stupid to believe but he hoped they wanted him. He wanted, no needed, to believe it had been things beyond his father's control which caused them to be separated.

One time when Derek was in a particularly bad mood, Derek trying to hurt him accidentally gave him an unexpected gift.

"When Child Services took you away from him," Derek spat 'him' out like it was something foul, "they had to rip the two of you out of his arms. I only met your brother once, but personally? I would have happily given you two brats up." Derek wasn't as good as his wife when it came to mind games.

The foster parent thought he was wounding his son but the information that someone had to rip his brother and him from their father's arms just solidified Sam's belief that his family wanted him. Also, he got a small sense of satisfaction that no matter how hard they tried, Jen and Derek couldn't take this from him. They could do anything they wanted to his body – he couldn't fight them. They couldn't take his thoughts and dreams.

The year Sam turned seventeen, the beatings got worse, especially the ones from Derek. It seemed the pair realized they only had one more year to get their licks in. For more than half the year, bruises weren't given the time to heal before new ones were given. Thoughts of running away were quickly dismissed. During all the time the young man lived in this hell, he only ran away once. The severe beating which followed his return convinced him running away would mean more pain.

The thought of suicide was a constant companion. The idea was so tempting. Sometimes he would lie on his bed wondering what it would be like to not feel anything at all. There were a few times he came close to actually doing it. Derek's gun was pressed against his temple and he was ready to pull the trigger. However, one thought always stopped him. 'If I do this, I'll never see my family.' The belief his family were out there, they were searching for him, simply refused to die. He just had to hang in there for a little longer, and then he could leave this place behind. He would find his family. He just had to survive the beatings.

If things had gone on the way they were, Sam had no doubt that he would be dead by Jen and Derek's hands. The Abbotts had no other family. Their friends were just like them. Sam had no friends to speak of. The social worker assigned to his case just wanted her paycheck. No one in the world cared about this 6'2 seventeen year old. However, God or Fate must have taken pity on him. He was sent a guardian angel who rescued him.

It was a bitterly cold winter. The layers Sam wore to keep himself warm meant Jen and Derek could continually hit Sam on his chest, stomach, arms, legs and back without anyone seeing the bruises. Also, not only was he getting beaten up by his foster parents, but by the kids at school as well. He had always been an easy target for bullies because he never fought back. Never. He learned long ago that fighting back never solved anything. In fact, it made things worse. Not that he didn't try to protect himself. With the instinct of that all living things possess, he would curl up making it harder for his tormentors to reach his vulnerable chest and stomach. This gained more laughs and jeers.

"Look at him." A voice laughed from above Sam's head.

"Yeah, what a coward!'' Another voice chimed in. The group of boys that surrounded him had a good laugh at that comment. However, what made this beating session worse was that the lead bully in question, Matt, stole the one thing that Sam could call his – a necklace.

The necklace was some sort of bug or beetle on a leather cord. The young man had had it with him for as long as he could remember. If he sat down and thought hard enough, he could vaguely recall green eyes and a childish voice saying, "Don't forget, Sammy." Then the necklace was thrust into his hands before he was carried away. He realized that the child with the green eyes was his brother. He fought hard to remember more, like his brother's name but all he could recall were those green eyes. Sam never took his necklace off. It was his only link to him past.

In a final act of cruelty, Matt ripped it from his neck. The bully showed it to his minions.

"Look, guys. A trophy!" Laughing, the group walked away, and a defeated Sam headed home, heartbroken.

The loss of his precious item caused the depression that he had been fighting to overwhelm him. He felt like he was coming apart at the seams without the link to ground. He had begun to doubt that his family was looking for him. It was at this point that he lost all hope and decided to end the pain once and for all. He knew that he had two hours before Derek came home from work. Sam sat on the living room couch with the gun pressed against his temple. For some reason he wanted to be the first thing Derek saw. He sat there for several minutes, trying to pull the trigger. As he finally resolved himself to just do it, the doorbell rang.

At first he was just going to ignore it. However, his mind wouldn't let him; he suddenly felt the overwhelm urge to open the door. He couldn't explain it – he just had to do this. Sam realized once he stood up from the couch, he wouldn't be completing his mission that day. A part of him felt rage that this path had been denied to him. The other part felt pure relief that he hadn't gone through with it.

There was no one there. The rage inside him doubled. 'I stopped my plans for this?!' He was just about to close the door when he saw a small box sitting on the doormat. After grabbing it, he looked up and saw…an angel. Later, Sam would be embarrassed he actually thought the guy was an angel. For one thing, he looked nothing like the angels Sam had seen in books and movies. The man, who looked a few years older than Sam, wasn't wearing white just blue jeans, a T-shirt, and a leather jacket with the collar turned up. He had no wings sprouting out of his back nor did he have a halo above his head. He was just an ordinary guy who was standing under a tree, staring directly at Sam's house. Oddly enough, Sam wasn't afraid. He even gave a small smile which was returned.

After opening the box, he discovered his necklace – completely unharmed. Tears sprang to his eyes. Someone cared. Looking through the window, he saw the angel was still there, still watching. Sam felt an odd sense of relief which didn't last long. When Derek, and later Jen, arrived home the man was long gone. However, Mrs. Kitts – the nosy elderly woman who lived next door, just had to call and tell Jen all about the strange man who spent two hours staring at their house. She even told the younger woman that their son had seen him too. Jen quietly thanked Mrs. Kitts, and then whipped around to stare at Sam, fire burning in her eyes.

"Who was here earlier?" she demanded. Sam had already decided he wasn't going to rat the angel out. Someone finally cared.

"No one." he replied, knowing she wouldn't believe him. He found he didn't care.

"Do you think I'm stupid?!" she spat. "I know he was here. Now who is he?"

Sam said nothing, looking at her defiantly.

"Answer your mother!" Derek shouted at him. Something inside Sam finally snapped. He had finally had enough.

"She is not my mother!" He screamed this at the top of his lungs, letting all that pent up anger and pain out. He had wanted to say that for years. He stared at his 'parents' coldly, showing absolutely no fear.

"You ungrateful little shit! We've spent years feeding and raising you. We gave you a home when no one else wanted you. And this is how you repay us?!" Jen continued to scream even more horrible things at him while Derek hit him over and over. As Sam lay in his bed later that night, he felt something he never had before. He was proud of himself. No matter what they had done, they hadn't been able to get his secret from him.

The next day at school, Sam learned that someone had beaten the hell out of Matt. So badly in fact that he was in the hospital. As cold as it sounds, Sam couldn't bring himself to care. However, he was the only one who felt this way. Matt was extremely popular with both the teachers and students. He was a football player who had a bright future. All day long, all Sam heard was, "Who could possibly do this to Matt?" It was just his luck that it had gotten around that the star quarterback had been last seen leaving his friends to go to practice after beating up Sam. This, along with the fact Sam had his necklace back, made the seventeen year old the number one suspect. He even had to talk with the principal with a police officer in the room. Apparently, they thought this tactic would scare them. He felt like laughing. If only these yahoos knew what he faced on a daily bases.

"Son," the principal, Mr. Wells, began, "Deputy Sheriff Knots is just here to talk to you. Now I understand you had a meeting with Mr. Anderson yesterday afternoon. Is that correct?"

"If you define 'meeting' as Matt and his friends ganging up and beating me up, then yes we had a meeting." Sam replied, feeling bold. Suddenly, the Deputy Sheriff was right in his face, screaming.

"You think this is a joke, son? That young man is lying in a hospital bed right now with cracked ribs, a broken arm, and head trauma. So I ask again, do you think this is a game?" the six foot two officer growled.

"No, sir. I was simply giving my view on the 'meeting.'"

Mr. Wells, in an effort to regain control of the situation, cut in. "We know from Mr. Anderson's friends that he was in possession of your necklace when he left his friends. If you didn't get revenge on him for his alleged attack, how did you get it back?"

Sam had to hold in the urge to show off his 'alleged' bruises. "Honestly, sirs, I don't know. I was at home after our 'meeting' when the doorbell rang. Lying there on my doormat was a small box which held my necklace. I looked around but no one was there." Just like with Jen and Derek, he made no mention the angel who had been staring at his house.

"So you mean to tell me that you have no idea who beat up Matthew Anderson, and your necklace just magically appeared on your doorstep?" the deputy sheriff asked, the sarcasm was heavy in his voice. "Out of all the stories, that's the one you're sticking with?"

"It's the truth."

Sam could tell that neither one of them believed him, but with no witnesses or evidence they had no way of proving he had done anything. With a warning that they would be watching him, he was dismissed. Not that it matter to the other students; they already believed him to be guilty.

Thankfully, Jen and Derek had no knowledge of what had happened at school. So he was left pretty much alone except for a quick slap when he didn't answer a question fast enough. Sam was in bed that night, on the edge of falling asleep when he heard a noise. His fight or flight response kicked in as his heart rate jumped, sweat formed, and his senses grew sharp. He listened quietly, waiting for another sound. After a few moments of hearing nothing, the young man slowly relaxed. He even laughed at himself for getting so worked up. He was once again on the edge of sleep when he heard a 'thump' as if something had been knocked over. The same slightly panicking feeling washed over him. Sam spent a few moments debating with himself about whether or not he should go investigate.

'What have you got to lose?' he thought. The seventeen year old found that he agreed with this. However before he could move to the door, it opened and his light came on.

Standing in the doorway was the angel who still had on the same clothes from the day before. With a smile on his face, the man knelt in front of Sam. He gently reached up and brushed Sam's hair away from his forehead. Then he cradled the nape of Sam's neck.

"Sammy." This one simple word was said with so much love and wander, as if the man had found the most precious item in the world.

A small part of Sam was screaming at him. 'What are you doing?! You have no idea who this is! He's a stalker. He's dangerous!' However, he wasn't afraid of this young man before him, He unconsciously made the connection. The eyes of the angel were still the same after all these years. This was his brother. Sam couldn't explain how he knew, he just did. The hole in his heart was gone. He was finally complete.

"I didn't hurt them, Sammy." The young man said in a rush. He was afraid his Sammy would be mad at him. It took a moment for Sam to realize who 'they' were.

"I know you didn't." he quickly reassured. "Who are you?"

"I'm Dean. Don't you remember, Sammy?" his brother asked, looking so heartbroken at the idea that Sam didn't remember.

"I remembered your eyes, and that you gave me this." Sam replied, showing Dean the necklace. "I never take it off."

Dean stared at him for a few moments, and then he broke into a huge smile. "You did remember!"

The other looked so completely happy that Sam found he had tears in his eyes. One spilled down his cheek which was gently brushed away. "Now get your stuff. I'm going to take such good care of you." Dean promised, looking Sam right in the eyes.

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