Ah the best laid plans, Dean shook his head as he reviewed his brother's behavior over the past few days. Sam had been quiet and withdrawn when he was sure Dean wasn't looking and faking a smile when he was. Dean didn't know what to make of this turn of events and John had pretty much given up trying to be extra considerate of Sam's feelings. No more egg shell walking for the Winchester men, that was for sure. Now the only problem was this illusion of happiness Sam was projecting. It didn't make sense, Dean thought that things would have improved if he talked to Sam more and more about the…attack.
Maybe that was the problem right there, Dean thought as he twirled his pencil while watching Sam. His younger brother was reading one of the books he had gotten from the library, a classic no doubt. As he watched Sam read, he took notice of the boy's eyes. They were blank nowadays, devoid of any true emotion unless the kid forced some feeling into them.
The word "rape'' was almost a taboo in the Winchester household. Whenever it was brought up it was always noted as the attack, or the incident, never the most naked word used to describe the ordeal. Dean figured it had been a good idea at the time, not to say the word, but in that, was he delaying the recovery process for Sam by acting like it wasn't what it was? Dean pinched the bridge of his nose as these thoughts whirled through his mind.
Looking up, he focused on Sam in surprise, "stop what?" he asked. "Thinking, I can hear you all the way over here," Sam replied without looking up from his novel. "Sammy…" he began, but no. This wasn't the place for the conversation he knew had to happen. "What?" the younger asked, suddenly looking up from his book expectantly. Dean drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly before answering "nothing."
This couldn't go on, but Dean didn't know how to push just enough to get Sam to open up completely. He hated the thought of forcing Sam to deal with something so horrific, but, looking at him now…Dean knew that his choices were running out.
Sam's eyes were rimmed a very faint red, from what Dean didn't know. If Sam had been crying, Dean sure as hell didn't know about it. He wondered now if Sam grieved the loss of his innocence when he thought that his family wasn't looking. The thought made Dean's chest ache and when he drew in a breath he felt it catch in his chest. He couldn't bare the thought of Sammy in that kind of pain, and going through it alone.
Suddenly the library seemed like too much. It's walls felt closer and the air felt thicker, pressing in on Dean as he fought internally to regain some semblance of control.
Across the table Sam was battling his own tide of emotions. He longed to tell Dean the truth, every gory detail of his attack, his rape, but, looking at his older brother now…he couldn't. He couldn't tell him how Jake had thrust into him from behind, how the tape had twisted on his wrists as he tried to break free, how his blood stained those sheets. He just couldn't do that to Dean.
Survivors, no matter how hard they try to move on are still only victims in the end, victims of random acts of violence. Sam cringed at the thought of being called either, wishing that it would just go away and never ever make itself know again.
Dean wanted him to share, to unburden himself of the grizzly truth, but he didn't want to know, Sam as convinced. He could just imagine what his brother would say when he found out exactly how it felt to have a grown man stretch you inside beyond your limits. Sam closed his eyes against the bile that rose in his throat.
He himself could deal with this….how could Dean think that he could?