"So Johnny, what happened today?" asked Caleb.
"It's a long story," replied John.
"I've got time," said Caleb. "Start talking."
"I found out last night that Sam's bastard of a gym teacher has been abusing him," growled John.
"What?" cried Caleb.
John proceeded to explain to Caleb everything that been happening to Sam in gym class. The younger hunter couldn't believe what he hearing. When he suggested that John and boys move to Franklinville, Caleb thought it would be a safe haven for them.
"So what happened at his house?" asked Caleb.
"I made sure that bastard would think twice before hurting Sammy again, unfortunately Dean got hurt in the process," said John, his voice laced with guilt.
"John that's not your fault."
"Yes it is. I never should have brought Dean along. Parents are supposed to protect their children, not hurt them."
Caleb could help but notice the pain that briefly flashed across John's face. He could tell that something was bothering the other man, something more than what happened to Sam and Dean. He had an idea, but he knew the normally private man would not appreciate him asking about it.
"So who called the police?" asked Caleb.
"The next door neighbor. Apparently Becker has it in for cats as well as young boys. The police were there to talk about Becker turning the hose on his neighbor's purebred Himalayan. The cat's worth a lot of money."
"So the police were there for the cat?"
"Yeah. Man I thought I was going to be arrested, but once Dean and I explained about what Becker did to Dean's arm and what he's been doing to Sam, they let me go and took Becker in for questioning. I have to bring Sam by the station tomorrow to tell them what's been happening."
"I bet Sam's not going to like doing that. What did he say when you told him?"
"I didn't get a chance to tell him yet. He was too upset when he saw Dean's arm and my nose. He cried himself to sleep in my arms. I swore I would never lay a hand on my children and I haven't but I served Dean up to the bastard by bringing him with me. Plus Sam didn't tell me what was going on because he thought I would just tell him to suck it up."
"Somehow I have a feeling if you had tried to go alone Dean would have pitched a fit because he's super protective when it comes to his little brother. As for Sam not telling you what was happening, I guess it's because you know sometimes that you can be a drill sergeant with your boys."
"I would never be okay with an adult hurting one of my children. Never!" growled John.
That thought had never crossed Caleb's mind and again he got the feeling there was more to John's anger than he was telling.
"Who hurt you?" asked Caleb.
"John I don't mean to pry, but I get the feeling that your anger is not totally directed as Sam's teacher."
"My father had this leather strap. He hung on a hook in our laundry room. My mother made us come in the house through the laundry room so we wouldn't track dirt in the house. Every time I saw that strap, it was a reminder. One step out of line and my father would grab it. I could never decide which was worse the strap or my father's fist when he was too drunk to grab the strap."
"Oh my God," was all Caleb could say.
"I swore I would never hurt my children like that and I have never laid a hand on Sam or Dean in anger. When Sam told me what was going on, I couldn't help, but think about what my father did."
"Do Sam and Dean know what happened to you as a child?"
"No. I dealt with what happened to me a long time ago and my boys don't need to know what happened."
Maybe if John had told them Sam would have been more forthcoming with what was happening to him thought Caleb. "Is your father still alive?"
"I don't know and frankly I don't care. The two people I cared the most about as a kid, my mother and brother, are deceased and when I got married I vowed that man would never get near family and he hasn't."
Sam woke up feeling thirsty. Glancing at the clock he saw it was just after midnight. He was about to head down to the kitchen for a drink when he saw movement from Dean's bed.
"Sam, you awake?" asked Dean.
"Yeah, I'm just going to get a drink. Do you want anything from the kitchen?" said Sam.
"No I'm fine," said a drowsy Dean.
Sam walked into the kitchen to find his dad still up.
"Hey Sammy, what's up?" asked John.
"I'm thirsty, so I'm going to have some orange juice," answered Sam.
Sam went to the fridge and got out the juice. He quickly poured himself a glass.
"Dad, how's your nose?" asked Sam, his voice thick with concern.
"It's okay. I took some pain medicine, so it doesn't even hurt," replied John.
Sam finished with his juice and was about to head back to bed when his dad stopped him.
"Sam, I need to talk to you about something."
"I have to take you to the police station tomorrow. You have to give a statement about what Coach Becker did to you."
"What? I have to talk to the police."
"Yes Sammy. I know it's going to be tough, but you're a strong kid."
"Dad, if I tell what he did what will happen?"
"I don't know." John suddenly had an idea of grabbing the kids and leaving town. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to."
"Yes I do. I don't want Coach Becker to hurt any more kids. Even if he doesn't go to jail maybe he'll be fired. I know we're probably going to be moving at the end of the school year, but Joe and Manny will still be here. I don't want them to get hurt."
Hearing his son's words, John felt his pride swell.
"Okay Sammy. Now it's late, so I think you'd better head to bed,"
"Okay," said Sam with a small yawn. He gave his dad a hug and headed back to bed.
After Sam left the room John looked heavenward and whispered "Mary you'd be so proud of our Sammy."
The Franklinville police station was buzzing with activity when John and the boys arrived. There were several teenage boys in the waiting area. Dean recognized one as a kid named Rob from his geography class.
"Hey Dean. What are you doing here?" asked Rob looking a little nervous.
"I'm here with my family to take care of something," said Dean not elaborating further. "How about you? What are you here for?"
Rob was trying to think of a good cover story for why he was at the police when he realized that it's a small town and people would talk. Dean's going to find out anyways, so he decided to tell the truth. "I'm here because I want to tell the police what my gym teacher did to me in the seventh grade."
"Are talking about Coach Becker?" asked Dean.
"I guess the words out," said Rob.
"That's great. What did you sit on your ass twiddling your thumbs for three years? Maybe if you had told the police sooner he never would have hurt another kid." He might not have hurt Sammy Dean silently added.
"You don't think I know that, but you have no idea what that man did to me." Rob furiously wiped the tears out of his eyes. "You have no idea!"
"I think I have a clue," growled Dean.
Not wanting to be berated by Dean anymore, Rob got up and walked away. Dean started to follow, but was stopped by his father.
"Dean, that's enough," said John.
"Dad, did you hear him? Maybe if he told someone Sam would not have been hurt," cried Dean.
"Dean that boy is a victim as much as your brother is. It must have taken a lot of courage for him to be here. I know he must feel guilty as hell for what happened to the kids who have been hurt since he was. He doesn't need you giving him grief for that. I understand you're upset about Sam, but that doesn't give you the right to yell at that poor kid," said John.
Dean couldn't believe what his father just said. He would have thought the man would be furious that someone hadn't spoken up sooner preventing Sam from getting hurt.
"Dad's right Dean. It's not that guy's fault. If dad hadn't seen the bruise on my back I never would have told him what was going on. More students would have been hurt and it would have been my fault," said Sam.
"No Sam, it wouldn't have been your fault. You were scared. That bastard Becker is the only one at fault," replied Dean.
"Then how is it that boy's fault?" asked Sam.
Sam's words hit Dean like a ton of bricks and suddenly he felt very guilty for the way he talked to Rob.
"Uh Dad I need to go apologize to Rob. I'll be back in a couple of minutes," said Dean.
John nodded and Dean left in search of his classmate.
"Did Dean just say he's going to apologize?" asked Sam.
"Yes he did," replied John.
"Wow, I think that's a first for Dean," said Sam with a chuckle.
"Sammy, I want you to know how proud I am of you for coming here. You are a very brave person for doing this," said John. If only I could have been as brave as my boy maybe things would have turned out different
"Thanks Dad." Sam's heart swelled at his father's words and he threw his arms around John.
"I'm sorry your nose got broken," said Sam.
"It's not your fault," replied John.
Sam and Rob were not the only boys to tell what Coach Becker did to them. In all, a total of eight boys came forward. When faced with all of their stories, Becker struck a deal with the district attorney that sent him to jail for a long time. Some of the most hated people in prisons are cops and child molesters, but at the prison where Cornelius Becker ended up there was a man who hated gym teachers more than anything. That man wound up being Coach Becker's cellmate.
Sam was able to finish out the school year in Franklinville. It would wind up being one of the best years of his life and Dean's too as he was able to accompany Lucy Swanson to the junior prom. The Winchesters ended up moving at the end of the summer. For awhile Sam tried to keep in touch with his friends Manny and Joe, but eventually he lost contact. He was nicely surprised his freshman year at Stanford when the kid sitting next to him in his Introduction to Sociology class turned out to be Joe Smith from Franklinville.
A/N: I want to send a big thanks out to everyone who read this story! I hope you all enjoyed it. I must send out a tremendous thanks to everyone who took the time to write a review. I am overwhelmed by how well this story has been received and I truly appreciate every single review.
I am thinking about doing a sequel of sorts to this story where Sam and Dean find out about the hell their father lived through at the hands of his father as a child.