Dangerous Beings.

Summary. . . . . Sam finds out the hard way that supernatural beings aren't the worst things out there. Sam's 13, Dean's 17. Rated T. This story does contain child abuse, but it won't be graphic. If you don't like please don't read.

Disclaimer. . . . Tried a spell Harry Potter gave me; it didn't get me the boys, just a rather upset house elf. Kripkie still owns.

A.N. . . . . So we reach the end of my little fic. To JoyofReading I hope I did you proud. And to Redwinged-Blackbird thanks for the laughs and input, and basically just being there if needed. Here's chapter 10, the final. . . . . . .

Chapter 10. What does the future hold?

Five sets of eyes turned at the sound of the gun shot. Four in shock and one set in fear. Dean as always was the first to react. Moving slowly and carefully he inched towards Sam.

"Sammy, it's me, put the gun down." No response. "Hey Sammy look at me. It's okay, just put the gun down."

Sam moved his eyes away from Sherry and slowly began looking for his brother. "Dean?"

"Yeah Sammy. I'm here. Give me the gun please." Dean tried again, observing when Sam's eyes reached his, the glassy and unfocused look in them. Reaching to his brother, Dean gently pried the gun from his hand before passing it to John, turning back quickly as Sam's eyes rolled into the back of his head and he passed out.

"Dean this is exactly the reason I wanted you to stay away. I knew something like this would happen. Get Sam to the car and then take him back to Caleb's. Do not return here Dean."

Dean was unable to look his dad in the eye, picking up Sam he returned to the Impala; jumping slightly when two more shots rang out. Settling Sam on the back seat once again, he made his way from the cabin, praying that he hadn't made a huge mistake that would damage Sam further.

It was over two days before John returned to the cabin with Joshua. Two days that Dean had looked after Sam, who when he wasn't sleeping, he'd taken to doing that a lot again, would spend his time sitting in a chair on the porch that looked onto a lake, staring for hours at what Dean didn't know. Sam was already in bed when the two elder hunters entered the kitchen where Dean sat drinking a coffee.

"Son, any of that coffee spare?"

"Yeah, sure I'll get you both some. Are Caleb and Bobby outside?"

"No they stopped to finish some things off, Joshua's going to stay here tonight before heading home."

Joshua, feeling the tension in the air, took his cup before excusing himself. "Thanks Dean. John you sure you don't want me to take the couch?" Getting a "no" from John, Joshua left for the other bedroom.

Both older Winchesters sat in an uncomfortable silence, each casting furtive glances at one another when they thought the other wasn't looking. After fifteen minutes of this John had had enough.

"Dean, I didn't want you at the cabin because I knew you wouldn't leave Sammy. That you'd find some way to bring him along. I was worried about the effect this would have on him. That was my one and only reason."

"I know dad and I'm sorry that I disobeyed you. I just really needed to be there, but I wish I hadn't have gone now. I hurt Sam again, dad. After promising him that I wouldn't, I did. I don't know how to fix this. Dad, I'm so sorry."

John wanted to go and console his son, but a part of himself told him to back off. Dean would learn from this, from all of this. He'd look after Sam from now on with a renewed vigor. Twenty four hours a day, seven days a week. So John left Dean to contemplate his actions. Getting up, he was going to check on Sam before retiring to the couch. As he got to the door Dean spoke.

"Just tell me that they're gone?"

John nodded. "Salted and burned!" Walking to where Sam was asleep, John thought back over the last two days since they'd heard the shot.

Caleb as soon as Dean had left with Sam had praised the younger boy's shooting skills, "Gut shot, nice one Sam. One slow and painful death coming up." John had just walked calmly towards Graham, staring at him dispassionately he placed the gun Sam had used against the side his left knee and pulled the trigger. Graham strained against the bindings as excruciating pain ran through his body. "Hold him down." John growled out before placing the gun against Graham's right leg and pulled the trigger once again, Graham slipped into unconsciousness almost instantly. The three hunter's had spent the next two days playing and watching. Playing with the Burton's every time they woke from the brief bouts of relief the hunter's let them have. A knife, needles, pliers, anything that was to hand was used. Watching as both Burton's took their last breaths, after spending agonizing hours bleeding out, whilst suffering in indescribable pain. Towards the end even the devious and defiant Sherry had been begging for her life. Offering the hunter's monetary rewards if they would just let her live. The hunter's though were resolute, these bastards had hurt one of their own and this was payback.

Bringing his thoughts back to today John pushed open the door. Looking closely he could see that Sam was anything but sleeping. Lying on his side, curled up as best he could with the cast on, hugging a pillow to his chest, Sam was wide awake and tearful. His heart breaking once more he went to comfort his youngest son. For once in his life he was going to be there for his son. All marine training of sucking it up was forgotten as he knelt before his distraughtchild and gently stroked the unruly bangs from his face, Thankful that Sam was so far inside his mind he didn't pull away and seemed to take the comfort that was on offer. That was how Dean found them later that night. Sam in a peaceful slumber, his dad sat on the floor; head resting on the edge of Sam's pillow, hand still on Sam's head, fast asleep.

It had been two weeks since the Burton's death, and they were still at Caleb's place. Sam's cast had been removed yesterday and although he still hobbled his walk was getting better. He still had problems with his left hand, the doctors now thinking that it would never fully heal. He still didn't eat much, talked even less. Every night he seemed to wake in a cold sweat, his nightmares alternating between relived memories of his time at the Burton's and the shooting of Sherry.

So although the bruises had long since healed and were no longer visible on the outside, he was still riddled with them on the inside.

Waking up shortly before seven, Sam crept quietly from the room. Slipping on his jacket, he grabbed a cup of coffee, something he had started to drink a lot of lately, and headed outside. Walking down to the lake, he sat beneath a large oak tree. Sipping on his coffee, he started to keep an eye on his watch. It had just hit fifteen minutes when he sensed Dean behind him. It was the same every day, Sam left, and Dean followed. Although Dean was getting better, the first day he was there within three.

Dean sat near his brother and they spent the next hour just watching the ripples on the water, neither talking. After the hour was up they returned to the cabin, where Dean proceeded to cook breakfast and tried as usual to get Sam to eat more.

"Hey Sammy. What do you fancy today? We got the full works, toast, cereal, pancakes?" Dean reeled of the list like a seasoned waitress.

"Toast" Sam replied.

"You sure? I can do eggs, bacon, sausage, hash browns?"

"Don't Dean. I just want toast."

"I'm just saying Sam, you need to eat more. You're beginning to look like one of those runway models!'

Raising abruptly, his chair clattering to the floor, Sam's frustration surfaced. "Just forget it Dean. I'm not hungry anymore. I'm going to take a bath." Before he stormed from the room and slammed the bathroom door behind him.

Running the bath, Sam started to undress. Already frustrated it turned to anger at his own fumbled attempts to undo the buttons on his shirt. Catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror, when he'd finally succeeded to get his shirt off, he hated the sight that greeted him, Dean was right he was too skinny. Reaching into the towel cupboard, to get one to cover the mirror, his hand brushed across something cold. Pulling his hand out, he could only stare at the gun that he now grasped in it, one of the many hidden around the place.

It was like a trigger to Sam, something inside of him seeming to break open. Slipping to the floor, gun hanging limply in his fingers, he started to cry.

Dean felt guilty. He had only been trying to help; but yet again his attempts had back fired. Trudging towards the room he was sharing with Sam, he became concerned when he came upon the bathroom door and could see water seeping from underneath. Carefully opening the door, they'd removed the lock so that Sam couldn't lock himself in; he was greeted by the sight of his brother, sat in his jeans and barefooted, on the floor. Overflowing bath water pooling around him and a gun in his hand.

Den's mind instantly thought the worst, Sam had tried once, was this another attempt? Rushing forward that thought left his mind as Sam's eyes met his. Although they'd seen Sam break down before, something was telling Dean that this time it was different. Kneeling beside his brother he waited. It wasn't long before the floodgates opened.

"I was coming back to you at the courts. I'd picked up Aliens; it was something I knew we both liked. The dog got tangled in my legs and when I went to get free someone came behind me. They had a cloth; it smelt funny. They held it over my nose and mouth. I tried to get away, I swear I did Dean, but I couldn't. The first time I woke up I don't know where I was, I was tied, blindfolded and gagged. Nothing happened then, but they used a needle on me for the first time.

"When I woke again, I was in the room with the mattress. That was the first time I was beaten; because I tried to escape, tried to get back to you. My hand got damaged then. I remember lying there afterwards, Graham had left for a bit, Sherry was consoling me; but it turned into something more. She, she. . . ."

"The rest of the days were much the same. They took my clothes because I wouldn't stop trying to escape. Eventually the drugs took over and I couldn't think straight, couldn't summon the energy to try any longer. Sherry and Graham made me forget who I was; forget my name; who you were. They made me do things to them, horrible things, things I'd never even saw or heard of before.

"I hated myself Dean. When I thought they had left at the end, I prayed that I would die; that it would be quick; that I could go and join mum. The first time I realized I was in the hospital, I was gutted. I really didn't want to live, so I tried to take my own life."

"So why didn't you go through with it? What stopped you?" Dean asked, in a non accusatory tone.

"You're going to think this is stupid. I couldn't leave you Dean. You, or dad. Thinking of you both stopped me."

Dean didn't know what to say. But then again, he thought, any words right now might stop Sam from talking and he needed to do this.

"I just feel so dirty, Dean. I cringe away because I can't understand how you can bare to be with me, touch me, love me. I'm not worthy of that love, Dean. Of any love. How can anybody ever love me again? How can I ever love anyone again? I love you and dad, but what will I be like with others? People are going to be disgusted when they find out what was done to me. "

As Sam paused, Dean thought he had finished and was going to answer, when Sam started talking again and the words Dean knew needed to come out finally did.

"They raped me, Dean. They both raped me. I should have tried harder to get away. I should have fought harder, but I didn't and they raped me; over and over and over. I feel so dirty, so unclean. How could I let them do that to me? I can still feel them touching me. I can still feel him inside of me. I hate feeling this way, but I can't stop. I'm dirty and unclean and disgusting and I don't know how you can even bare to look at me, let alone love me. I'm sick, Dean. I should disgust you. Why do you love me? Tell me why you do?"

"That's easy Sam. You're my brother, and your dad's son. No matter what, our love for you will never stop. You're the reason we get up every morning Sam. You bring light to our otherwise dark life. Without you we're nothing, we cease to exist. You might be a pmsing son of a bitch at times, but we wouldn't change you or give you away for the world. We love you Sam, always have, and always will. It wasn't your fault Sam, none of it; you have to start believing that. Come here."

Grabbing his brother in his arms, Dean held Sam tightly as the tears that had been flowing quietly turned into harsh sobbing that wracked his thin body. John, who had been sitting patiently outside the door, got up slowly and entered. Placing a hand on his youngest son's back he was surprised when, after a strangled "dad" had escaped Sam's lips, he thrust himself into his father's chest. Placing an arm around Sam, John held the other open, an invitation to Dean. The three Winchesters sat on the wet floor, entangled in each other, until the sobbing from each had subsided.

Sam was already in bed when the Winchester's received a surprise visitor later that night. Using Dr Walsh for help, George had managed to track them down. Ushering him into the kitchen, both John and Dean weren't surprised at his first words.

"The Burton's seem to have disappeared. Their lawyer reported them missing yesterday. I don't suppose you would have any idea where they could be?" At getting no response he continued. "I didn't think so. Something tells me that they may have met an untimely end though? That they might never show up again? I can but only hope."

Small talk was made before George got up to leave. Upon reaching his car he spoke again. "I have a present for Sam. I know he's asleep, so will you give it to him for me?"

"Yeah, sure George." John answered.

Leaning into his car he pulled out a box and handed it to Dean. Opening it up, he was met by the sad face of a beagle lying inside.

"This is the real hero of Sam's rescue. I thought it might help. It's been a pleasure knowing you. If you ever need any help just call, and take care of Sam." Getting in the car he started to drive off, shouting out the window as he went. "He answers to the name Max."

After George had left, Dean had placed the beagle on Sam's bed. After spending some time with his dad, he'd decided to get an early night; it had been a long and tiring day. Reaching the bedroom he was stopped on the threshold by the sight of the two figures on the other bed, silent tears marking tracks down his face. John was headed for the bathroom fifteen minutes later when he caught Dean still standing there.

"Hey, Dean. I thought you were going to bed? What's the matter? Is something wrong with Sam?"

"No dad, I'm just happy."

"What? Why?"

Dean just jerked his head into the room. Looking over Dean's shoulder, John caught sight of what had made his older son so happy, his heart mending all the more. Sam lay sleeping on the bed. The dog, guarding him as though his life depended on it, cradled protectively against his stomach. But that wasn't what had cheered the two Winchesters. No that was the look on Sam's face. A genuine smile adorned his face, the first real one they had seen in a very long time.

"You know we can't keep it."

"I know, but maybe for a little while. It can't hurt, and then we'll give him to Bobby. That way Sam will still see him from time to time."

George was finishing up some paperwork when the two men entered. "How may I help you?"

"We want you to tell us where the Winchesters are?"

"I'm sorry but who are you?"

"We represent the Burton family. We're looking into the disappearance of Sherry and Graham Burton. We believe that the Winchesters might have had a hand in their disappearance and would like to talk to them."

"Well I'm sorry but you've wasted your time coming here. I have no idea where they are and as I'm a busy man, I'm going to have to ask you to leave now."

Leaving the room one of the guys turned back. "You can pass on a message. We will find them!"

The end? . . . . . Or maybe it's just the beginning.

A.N . . . . . As always thanks to all of you out there in fanfic land. I wrote something in a review reply and I thought I should also put it up here. It is an honor that you even take the time out to read my story and for that I'm truly thankful, to receive you reviews is an added bonus, for which I also thank you all. I hope you enjoyed this story and I'm sorry but it was just crying out to be left so that a sequel could be done. It won't be for a while as I must go back and finish my second story, Secrets and Demons, which kind of got pushed aside as this one took over. Thanks again, peanut x