Diving In A Pool Of Pain.
Summary. . . . . . . Months of bullying finally come to a head for Sam, hurt and alone will he be able to get help, or will he succumb in a pool of pain?
A.N. . . . . . Written as a birthday gift for Darksupernatural, thanks for being a friend, you can always be counted on to help and advise and I wanted to give something back to you. I hope you enjoy your day and this little prezzie.
Sam sighed as he looked up at the red brick building before him, another new hunt had sent the Winchester's to yet another new town, which in turn meant yet another new school, and for Sam yet another go at being the new kid once again. He had lost track of the amount of times in his short sixteen year life that he had worn that title and the bullying that came along with it, usually after a few days of ignoring the jibes and insults the other students would grow tired and move onto something, or someone else. But this time it seemed never ending.
There wasn't a day that would go by since he had started here in late February, that Sam didn't have something to deal with. If it wasn't his locker being broken into, his books ripped and scattered about the hallways, it was snide little comments made by voices just loud enough to hear. If it wasn't an accidental push, or trip, here or there, it was stifled giggling every time he walked into a room or walked by a group in the hallways.
Sam had, in the past, often wondered why he always seemed to be targeted and yet his older brother, Dean, could walk into any new school and immediately fit in, claiming the role of king within minutes. This term though, Sam knew the reasons why. This term Sam knew that he was targeted because of what had been happening since last summer.
Sam had grown.
Sam had grown a hell of a lot!
At just under six feet, Sam was almost as tall as Dean, and he towered over every other kid in his grade. Sam knew that this was the reason for all the taunts and abuse, as quiet and gentle as he was, the other kids were all threatened by his height. That was the reason, he believed, why most of them tried to save face by making his life a living hell. Sam knew that he could fight back, be more like Dean. He knew that if he wanted to he could put an end to it all with just one punch, but his gentle nature, his good conscience always prevented him from doing so.
His goodness wasn't the only reason why he didn't fight back, never retaliated. No, in his eyes, he saw what the others saw. He was a freak of nature; a six foot beanpole that was so skinny if it wasn't for his belt, there would be no way his trousers would stay up. That was another reason, Sam thought, that the bullying was so bad. His clothes. He knew that they were un-cool and ill fitting, which in this affluent part of town the school was located in, stood out a mile. But Dean had bought them for him, and that meant to Sam's eyes they were the best clothes ever.
Sam tried not to think too much about Dean, he hated the fact that since they had moved here the close bond they had between them had splintered so much he didn't think it was possible to reverse the damage. He hated that they never spent any time together anymore, that he couldn't go to Dean with his problems, that Dean was no longer there to save the day when the bullying became too much, that Dean no longer felt like his brother, his best friend, his hero.
He started walking up the stone steps towards the school's main entrance, hoping and wishing to himself that he could just make it through today and get to the weekend and a reprieve. He was happy at least that it was just a short day, one of those parent teacher days that cropped up every now and then. All he had to do was endure advanced math and then swim class and he would be home free, with nothing but a few ghosts and spirits to worry about for the next few days.
He pulled up his collar more tightly around his neck as the biting wind picked up, sending it's freezing tendrils down his spine. Although the first of April, their current location, close to the Rockies, meant that the temperature here was low enough to still need a decent cold weather coat, the occasional snow fall still known to catch people out.
Sam smiled a grim smile when he made it to the doors without so much as a sly comment reaching his ears. He dared to hope that today might be the day his luck would change, that today might be the day that he turned the corner, that today might be the day it all stopped. His good fortune stayed with him throughout his math class, and for the first time since he had been there Sam walked to his locker with a small, happy smile gracing his face.
Putting in the right combination, he opened the door and went to place his books inside. A hand grabbing his arm had him jumping in fright, his back automatically stiffening waiting for the blows to follow. He was caught of guard when the blows didn't appear, and a soft voice spoke instead.
"You should do that more often."
Sam looked down on the stunning blonde haired girl that stood before him. He had seen her around a few times, usually hanging with the person who had been the bain of Sam's existence these past months, Drew Peters. She had always distanced herself from him though whenever he and his goons had started on Sam, and she had smiled at him a couple of times whenever he had glanced her way as they passed each other in the halls, or in class.
He looked back at her now as she stood there almost waiting for him to answer her back. When Sam finally plucked up the courage to speak, his voice betrayed him coming out all sharp and high pitched, a blush formed on his cheeks and he turned away wishing for the ground to open up beneath him. Her arm though gripped tighter, preventing him from doing so. He cleared his throat and tried again.
"What do you want more ammo to use against me, and laugh about?" He didn't mean it to come across nastily, but he knew that was what his tone implied.
"I'm sorry, I probably deserved that. I know that you've been treated badly since you have been here. I Just wanted to try and make things right. My names Kris, I'll see you around." She let go of Sam's arm and started to walk away, Sam stopping her before she got too far.
"Listen, I'm sorry. I guess I have some trust issues. You never did anything to hurt me, I'm sorry for the way I reacted. What did you mean before when you said I should do that more often?" Sam asked, throwing her a warm smile that accentuated his dimples all the more.
"That!" Kris replied, her hand reaching up to touch his face. Laughing lightly as Sam's color rose once again at her touch.
Unbeknown to the both of them the whole display was being watched from a few feet away, a hatred growing stronger within Drew as he saw Sam and Kris talk awhile longer.
Sam daydreamed his way towards the building that housed the school's pool, the feel of Kris' touch on his face lingered, making him almost eager to get to the class he hated the most. It wasn't that Sam couldn't swim, his Dad had made Dean teach him almost as soon as he could walk, it was the thought of showing off his scrawny legs and skinny body in a pair of Speedos, the school swimwear of choice; every time he even thought about it a sense of dread would wash over him.
He walked into the locker room thankful that it appeared Drew and his swim team buddies had already left for the pool area, no doubt to suck up to the coach, leaving Sam to get changed in peace. He hunkered down, stooping his shoulders, trying to make himself as small as possible as he hurriedly made his way to the water, trying to become invisible hoping to just get through the next hour.
His foot slipped on a wet tile though sending him crashing to the floor, his knee smacking viciously into the ribbed tiles, a grunt of pain escaping his lips before he could stop it, attracting all the attention he had been hoping to avoid. All heads turned his way, Drew and his cohorts immediately starting to laugh as they watched Sam's over sized feet slide from under him again as he hurriedly tried to stand. Sam's face burned with shame as the coach spoke up.
"Peter's, McIver, help Winchester get to his feet before he starts crying out for his mommy because he got a booboo."
Tears of shame mixed with tears of anger at the coach's mention of his mom. When Drew's arm grasped his painfully in an attempt to pull him up, months of Sam's regressed anger erupted and he lashed out. The coach had turned back to speak to other students, missing completely Sam's fist slamming into Drew's face, allowing Sam time to regain his balance. As Drew retaliated and an all out brawl started between the two boys though, the older man was soon barreling between them, forcing them apart.
"What the hell is going on here?" He shouted out, at getting no response and looking around at all the class gathered there, the coach knew that he couldn't give his usual favors to his star pupil. "20 lengths of the pool for the pair of you." As Sam and Drew walked off to start their punishment he added. "At the end of the lesson boy's, not on my time."
Drew groaned in protest that meant his planned attempt at winning Kris back would be ruined. As the coach turned away again and ordered the boy's into the pool, Drew spun on Sam whispering viciously. "You'll pay for this Winchester." Shoving harshly, he pushed Sam into the pool. As Sam spluttered and coughed after breaking the surface, he vowed to himself to try and avoid Drew for the rest of the lesson. The coach thankfully helped with that problem, separating the swim team to the other end of the pool leaving the rest of the class under the instruction of his assistant.
Soon enough the lesson was over and Sam and Drew were left to get on with their punishment, the coach disappearing to his office and the bottle of whiskey every one knew he kept there. Both boys' started off quickly, both wanting to be the first one to finish, Sam so intent on beating Drew he missed the other boys friends sneaking around the pool to the high board.
By the time he had finished Sam's body was aching and all he could think about was getting dried, dressed and out of there. He tried to ignore the snickers coming from Drew and his friends; focusing his mind instead on Kris, and how her touch had made him feel. A warm blush and a sudden stirring making him rush all the more for the sanctuary of his clothes.
Opening his locker Sam reached for the threadbare towel he had dumped in his gym bag earlier and wrapped it hastily around his waist. He pulled his t-shirt of the shelf and quickly threw it over his head, not caring that his body was still wet. Reaching back into his locker Sam searched one handed for his boxers which he had placed on top of his jeans on his gym bag, his other hand stripping off the wet Speedos and dropping them onto the floor. His hunter instincts kicked in when he couldn't find what he was looking for, his head whipping around trying to get ready for the attack he knew was imminent.
He wasn't quite quick enough though as Rob Edwards, one of Drew's friends ran past and snatched the towel from around Sam's waist. As the sound of the other boy's laughter reached his ears, Sam could do nothing but stand there mortified, trying desperately to pull his too short t-shirt over his exposed area.
"See guys, I told you he was gay. Look how pleased he is to see us."
Sam cringed as seven sets of eyes all focused their attention on his body, the blush rising as shame washed over him. Drew saw Sam's embarrassment for something else though. He saw it as Sam's guilt, moving forward he spoke up again. "See he is gay. Look how guilty he looks at being found out." Drew pointed at Sam's now beetroot face. "Look he's not even denying it. But we don't swing that way, do we guys?" A murmuring of agreement came from the others before Drew turned back to Sam, malicious intent blazing from his eyes, he spat out. "And we don't like guys that do!"
Sam was too busy trying to hide himself behind his cupped hands, to busy keeping an eye on Drew that he missed Rob sneaking off again. As Drew's fist aimed for his head, Sam easily dodged it and moved back, straight into Rob's waiting arms. Sam didn't have time to realize his mistake, didn't have time to berate himself over forgetting the first rule of hunting, always keep an eye on all your targets. He was too busy warding off the nausea that rose after Josh had pushed him forward slightly before kicking him in the back of the knee, Sam's leg buckling instantly sending him crashing heavily down to the floor, a gasp of pain escaping him as his ankle twisted viciously and the knee he had hurt earlier once again slammed into the tiles.
Sam didn't have time to recover though before all seven of the guys were surrounding him, boots and fists flying at him from all angles. He tried to fight back, even managing to grab hold of one boy's ankle and pull him off balance sending him crashing into a locker door, his nose breaking on impact. There was just too many of them though, and each hit Sam took weakened him all the more. In the end he did the only thing he could do, he retreated and hoped that he could ride it out.
Curling up into a ball, he tried desperately to protect his vital parts. The hits kept coming though, until a boot clad foot broke Sam's defenses and smashed into Sam's own nose, the force of the kick lifting Sam's head off the floor, his brain having switched to unconsciousness unable to tell him to brace for what was about to come, and with a sickening crack Sam's head connected with the unforgiving tiled floor; blood flowing and mixing with a puddle of chlorinated water almost instantly.
The other boy's stood shocked for a minute before they all started laughing, Drew as always the first one to speak up. "Stick the rest of his belongings in his bag; put it on the high board with his jeans and boxers, then let's get out of here. We'll tell coach that we finished and every where is locked up, it won't be the first time we've had to do it so he won't come looking. It's one thirty, he's probably downed half a bottle by now anyway."
The guys were still laughing as they went about taking Sam's gym bag and stuffing it with his shoes, socks, jumper, and coat before leaving to place it with his jeans and boxers they had left precariously balanced on the high board earlier. After they had returned, they grabbed their own bags and prepared to leave, Drew though couldn't help himself, he remembered the happy look on Kris' face as she had touched and talked with Sam. In two years she had never looked that happy with him.
Walking back over to Sam, who still lay sprawled out unconscious, he kicked the defenseless boy savagely between the legs. Sam's body reacted to the pain, but he remained dead to the world. "That's what you get for messing with my girl." Drew ground out, kicking at Sam's unprotected side this time, the resounding snap of the fragile ribs breaking echoing around the room. Spitting in Sam's face, Drew walked off, leaving a battered Sam to his own fate.
Sam came slowly back to consciousness, freezing, in a world of pain, and having no idea of how long he had been out, or even where he was at first. As nausea rose in his throat, he rolled awkwardly to his side and tried to lever himself up, his efforts were futile though. His strength zapped from the beating he had sustained, all he could do was turn his head weakly to the side and hope that once he had finished he would have enough in reserve to stop him from falling in his own mess.
As his body finally expelled all its stomach contents, Sam willed himself to move away, at first he could only manage a few inches, but eventually he managed to make it so that his back rested against the lockers. He tried to ascertain the extent of his injuries, knowing instantly that his ribs and nose were broken, his knee and ankle were tender to the touch but seemed in tact, and from the stickiness in his hair he had a head wound somewhere.
Overriding all of that pain though was the sharp, steady throb that emanated from between his legs. He reached down with his hand trying to ease the pain that radiated from there, panic stricken when his hand touched something sticky there. When he pulled his hand away the panic changed to horror as it came away covered in blood. Shivers wracked his body as the cold and shock set in once again, reminding him that he really needed to get out of there, but he didn't think he could move on his own.
Reaching into his locker he tried to locate his bag and the phone that lay in the front pocket. The bag though was no longer there; neither were his shoes, socks, jumper, coat, or the precious mobile phone. Sam's whole body slumped, every inch of the pain intensifying as he realized the only way to get help was now gone. He found himself sobbing in pain and frustration and tried desperately to get his emotions under control, as each sob rocked his body exacerbating his injuries, making them ache all the more. He knew that he would have to get moving, that he would have to make his own way out of there, and that he would have to find his own help, to do that though he would need clothes, too many people had seen him naked already today.
Gripping the locker door, Sam tried to pull himself to his feet, nearly passing out again as fiery spasms of pain radiated from his groin. Leaning heavily on his good leg and ankle, his grip on the door increased making his knuckles turn stark white, Sam breathed slowly, deeply trying to ease his sloshing, rolling stomach and ward off the darkness that had begun to encroach the edges of his vision. When his stomach seemed to have settled Sam tentatively eased his way forward, his hands clutching the locker tops, his eyes darting everywhere looking for anything to cover his lower half with so that he could make it to the coaches' office, or the main part of the school and the phones he knew were there.
His search was in vain though, his own clothes were nowhere to be found, everyone else's taken home to get washed. Sam's strength waned, and with shame engulfing him he realized he would have to go out there naked on his bottom half and pray that he didn't run into anyone; although he was beginning to not care anymore if he did, the pain was getting too much for him to handle, and help from anyone at this point would, he thought, be a blessing. Sam turned towards the door that led to the coaches' office and eventually the outside, and began the slow arduous task of trying to reach it.
He cried out in relief when after what felt like a lifetime his hand finally reached the door knob, his hands sweaty from the effort, Sam rubbed them on his t-shirt before turning the knob and pushing on the door. It didn't move. He tried again, pushing harder using what little reserves he had left, but it was no use the door was securely locked. Sam tried banging on the doors, trying to get anybody's attention, but no one answered. On trembling limbs Sam sank to the floor, his sore and swollen knee forcing one leg to stretch out in front of him, defeat evident in his eyes as he broke down and sobbed, his cries mingling with whispered pleas for Dean, or his Dad.
The more he pleaded for them, the more a little spark began to light up inside him once more. Winchester's never gave up. Winchester's never admitted defeat. Winchester's always kept fighting; they sucked up their pain and refused to be defeated. Bringing shaky hands to his eyes Sam wiped away the tears, after doing so he pushed the heels of his hands into his temple trying to push back the throbbing ache long enough to start thinking of a way out of this, to start thinking of a way to save himself. He started a little mantra to himself "Think Sam, think. Think of a way outta here." He was starting to give in again, starting to think all was lost, when he remembered the fire door at the far end of the pool, if he could get there, he could get help.
Sam started to push himself back up only to realize just how hard it was going to be to reach those doors. Sitting on the floor he hadn't noticed his muscles start to cramp and stiffen up, it was only as he started to move again and they started to protest that he realized just how much that little emotional break had cost him. As he moved his legs the pain in his groin magnified, so much so that the slightest movement of his hips or legs left him in agony and breathless. He tried to ride out the pain, slowing his breathing down he attempted to rise again making it to his feet this time where he stood swaying for the longest time trying to regain his equilibrium. Finally feeling strong enough he started the long trek back, past his still open locker and back to the poolside.
Once his feet reached the cold ribbed tiles, Sam stopped to regain his breath, leaning back against the wall whilst looking at the distance he still had to go, fighting a raging battle within himself, one side telling him to rest, that the distance was just too far, the other side, sounding too much like his father for Sam's liking, urging him to go on, to be strong. The battle within his muddled mind threatening to take what little energy he had left, Sam forced himself to concentrate, to make a decision, to start moving again. A ringing suddenly sounded out, just about the same time as something caught the corner of his eye forcing him to look back towards the opposite end of the pool to his destination, back towards the high board. There dangling over the edge, wafting gently in the air conditioned breeze, were his jeans held securely in place by his gym bag which was balanced on the edge.
Sam choked back a sob, he really didn't know whether to laugh or cry, his phone was so close, his help was so close. All he had to do was climb to the top, retrieve his bag, and call Dean to come and get him. It all seemed so simple. As he looked up once again at the height though, Sam knew it wouldn't be that easy. Ever since a run in with a poltergeist two months ago, Sam knew that climbing that ladder would be easier said than done, the dissatisfied spirit had taken pleasure out of dangling Sam from a five story window taunting Dean before dropping him. Luckily he had only fallen two stories before landing heavily on a fire escape, with only sprains, cuts and bruises to show on the outside, on the inside though things weren't so easy to get over, Sam gaining a new fear of heights.
He tried to weigh up his options, go outside naked from the waist down? Or face up to his fears? In the end it wasn't even a close call, he'd been shamed enough today. Turning back around he made his way to the high board, his hands gripping whatever hold they could, a trail of crimson following in his wake. As Sam's hands touched the smooth surface of the ladder he stopped once again, pain now dogging every movement he made no matter how hard he tried to block it out, his breathing coming quick and shallow as he fought to prevent his ribs from moving around even further. He looked up daunted by the task that still stood before him.
Placing his injured ankle on the first rung he grabbed hold of either side of the ladder and proceeded to test his weight on the limb, thankful for the first time in his life for all the strength training his Dad had forced him to do when the limb buckled under his weight forcing Sam to use his upper body to pull him up as his good leg tried to find the rung. He stood balanced on his good leg trying to ride out the pain that was threatening to overwhelm him once again, that was trying to drag him away from his goal. He looked back the way he came wondering if it would be better to go back, to face the shame, but either way he looked at it, Sam knew he was in for a hard time.
The still ringing phone though was closer, so Sam carried on up the ladder. Placing his weight on his arms and his stronger limb, Sam began the grueling, taxing task of climbing the ladder, each jump step he made sending even more spikes of agony coursing through his body. By the time he had reached the top, Sam was gasping for breath, his hair plastered to his head, his t-shirt moulded to his body as sweat from pain and the effort of climbing the ladder poured from his body. Holding tightly to the guard rail he inched his way forward towards the edge, his eyes pinpointed straight ahead in an attempt not to look down.
Panic overcame him as he reached the end of the rail, just the thought of having to let go, that he would have to go the rest of the way unaided, sending shivers of fear through him. Reluctantly he started to limp forward, his hand releasing the bar with great effort. He realized his mistake almost immediately, his mind focused on not looking down the pain he had been feeling had retreated somewhat to the back of his mind, the minute he placed his weight on his damaged leg though it all came flooding back, his ankle protested at the movement twisting beneath him and sent Sam crashing to the platform. The resulting jar to his battered body was like sustaining the beating once again as spasm after spasm of agony was sent racing through every inch of his being.
Forgetting where he was, Sam rolled to his side wanting to curl up in a ball and wait the agony out, he was too near the edge though and before he knew it he was rolling off the board. He never had the chance to grab hold of anything, before he was falling thirty three feet to the water below. Sam hit hard, his injured groin, side and leg taking the full impact, he instinctively cried out from the pain the scream never materializing as his mouth filled with water, some seeping down his throat, tickling his lungs and making him cough and splutter.
Coldness seemed to envelop him as the now freezing water made itself known. Sam's brain fought to let itself be heard through all the aches, he needed to get out of the water. Still trying to catch his breath, coughs still emanating from him, Sam started to fight his way to the edge and the steps built into the side of the pool, reaching them he tried to drag his sodden, battered body from the water. The effort proved too much though, with his lower half still in the water, Sam's reserves finally gave out and he slumped unconscious to the cold tiled floor.
A.N. Well this was originally going to be a really long one shot, but the bunny ran away from me and it's turned into a three shot which hopefully will be posted over the next three days. Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed, Peanut x