Promises Broken, Secrets Uncovered

Summary. . . . . Things had been tough for Sam in the years following his abuse at the hands of the Burton's, yet one thing had remained a constant, his family. One sentence said in fear and anger though has taken even that security away from him. Now someone knows his deepest secret and Sam's having to deal with it all alone. Sequel to Months To Rebuild, Seconds To Destroy. Mentions of Sam's rape and abuse. Rated k

Disclaimer. . . . Mistakes are mine, the boys unfortunately are not!

A.N. . . . . . Sammygirl1963 this is for you! I know that you have been waiting for this one. Thanks for all the encouragement and support, I hope that you enjoy.

To my other biggest supporter Darksupernatural thanks for all the nudges, pokes and prods.

To everyone else thanks for reading.

Sam's breath hitched as he felt familiar hands crawling all over his body, touching him, arousing him, even though they were unwelcome and unwanted. His mind became aware of words being seductively whispered in to his ear, words that made his skin crawl, words that made him feel fourteen all over again. His heart began thudding in his chest, his breathing becoming shallower as he willed himself to shut off, willed himself to be elsewhere but here. He tried desperately to move away from her clutches, but it was to no avail as her hands moved more rhythmically and all Sam could do was close his eyes and mind against his disobeying body, willing for it to just be over and done with. It was not to be though as he felt himself being turned over and yet more hands stroking down his back edging lower and lower until. . . . .

Sam bolted upright in bed, trembling profusely, and sweat dripping down his face, neck and back, his breaths coming in quick short gasps. He wiped a shirt clad arm across his face, knowing that the wetness that quickly soaked it through was caused also by the tears that were silently coursing down his cheeks. This was the third night in a row that he had woken up this way from one of those dreams, the third night in a row that his nightmares past had come back to haunt him, the third night in a row that he had once again began to feel dirty, scared, defiled and very, very alone.

Swinging his extra long legs to the side of the bed, Sam waited a few seconds before standing on fawn like limbs and making his way towards the small fridge he kept stocked with bottled water, taking a bottle out he greedily downed half of it. Sitting down at his small desk he drank the second half just as quickly, along with three Tylenol he found in one of the drawers. Placing his throbbing, weary head into his hands, Sam allowed the tears to turn into sobs and suddenly feeling very young, he wished that his brother was there to make this all go away, wished that Dean was there to tell him that things would once again be okay.

Wasn't that after all what Dean had promised Sam all those years ago? That he should keep living, that every thing would get better? That throughout the highs and lows, he would always be there for Sam? Yet Dean wasn't here to make it all go away this time, wasn't there to get Sam through the pain and hurt of his nightmares, wasn't there with the reassurances that Sam had used to get through this last time. Dean hadn't been there for Sam since that fateful night nearly six months previous, when Sam for the third time in his young life had felt the earth crashing away beneath him. His heart jumped in his chest as he thought back to that fateful night.

It had started out as just a normal, average night, he and Dean had been sparing in the sparsely furnished living room of the latest run down house they had rented whilst working another job, the younger brother for once having the upper hand in the session. When the door had slammed open both men had stopped abruptly and turned in time to see an irate John Winchester storm through the door, both men wondering what the hell was wrong.

"How could you?" John had eventually spat out.

"How could we what?" Dean had replied confusion clear in his voice and written plainly on his features.

Sam though had understood perfectly, his face had paled as soon as he had spotted the envelope gripped in his fathers hand, his breath hitching as he had caught sight of the familiar seal. He tried to quickly place himself behind his smaller yet older brother in an attempt to hide from the wrath that he knew was about to come his way. He hadn't succeeded though and things had gotten much worse from that moment on.

John, his fears and concerns about Sam being alone and unprotected, had lashed out with cruel words.

Sam, not guessing the real reason behind the angry words, had retaliated with some of his own.

Dean, stuck in the middle and unable to comprehend what was going on, had ended up just standing there.

Sam had told their Dad of his want to go to college, to lead a normal life. He had told him of his scholarship, the full ride, but instead of the congratulations and happiness he thought he would receive, the words that had left John's mouth were vicious and hateful and had cut Sam deeply.

"Look what the white picket fences and the manicured lawns got you the last time you wanted normal, Sam."

As Sam had stood there, hurt and in shock at what his Dad's words had implied, John had gone for the final blow.

"If you walk out that door, don't you ever come back."

Sam had looked at his Dad, mistaking the look in his eyes for anger instead of fear, before turning his gaze towards Dean, needing his brother's support and encouragement. But Dean was struck dumb, caught in a daze, his mouth hung open and his eyes unfocused on anything. Sam's shoulders slumped as he realized the support he so desperately needed to hear would not be forth coming; he strode quickly out of the room so that both men would not witness the tears that started to fall in earnest.

A promise broken in an instant, Sam crammed as many of his belongings as possible into the one bag he owned and left the house without so much as a look back. The sense of complete and utter loneliness making him stumble and fall to his knees the minute the property was out of sight.

Sam was brought out of the memories when noises in the hallway met his ears. Wiping again at the tears that still fell down his cheeks, Sam contemplated what to do, who he could call to help him out of this one. He desperately wanted Dean, but his own stubborn Winchester pride was stopping him from calling. No, this was something that he would have to deal with, on his own if need be. But where did he start?

He looked over at his nightstand and the drawer that it contained, shivering slightly as if chilled at the thought of what was hidden inside. Why now? It had been so long ago, why was this being dragged up again now? After six years, why did someone want to hurt him so badly by digging those memories back up? And just who the hell was it? Who knew?

Sam had always been told that none of the players had been left alive. Every time he had woken from one of those nightmares in the first year that followed, Dean or his Dad had reassured him that there was no one left that knew what had gone on. Yet someone did know, and that someone was out to destroy Sam once again.

Sam could not believe his luck. He had finally, after a few rocky months, started to feel as though he fit into his new life at Stanford. At first he had spent his days concentrating on his courses, his nights in tears as loneliness had enveloped him. Now though, although still very much a loner, the other students didn't ignore him anymore, some even asking his opinion on topics they had just covered in class, others inviting him to the numerous parties that seemed to crop up every night. Opinions were given readily, party invites rejected kindly, Sam still not trusting or wanting to let his guard down by letting go; it didn't stop the invites from rolling in though.

Something else had even happened that Sam had thought would never happen, he'd met someone. Someone that he thought he could eventually be happy with, be truthful with, maybe even fall in love with. He hadn't told her of his past yet, hell in the two months that they had been closer than friends he hadn't even found the courage to give Jess more than just a quick peck goodnight, but he knew that he eventually would tell her and hope that she would understand and not judge him. He knew that with her help and encouragement and time he would be able to move the relationship further. Now though it seemed as though time had run out, the object in Sam's drawer meant that somebody knew what had happened to him, somebody even knew where he was and to Sam's mind it would only be a matter of time before others knew and his hard worked for new life once again came crashing down around him.

Sam picked up his phone, trembling fingers desperate to call the number he knew off by heart, but yet again something deep inside stopped him from doing so. He just couldn't do it, the pain from what he saw as his family's rejection still too raw for him, he just couldn't ring them. He had made his bed when he had left, now he would just have to lie in it, no matter the circumstances. Sam instead chose to call someone else; someone who also knew the truth, some one he hoped would not walk away and leave him alone with this.

A.N. . . . . . I hope that was okay, it's really just a set up chapter for what is to come. Thanks as always for reading and I'll catch you soon, Peanut x