Warnings: There are mentions of child and teen sexual abuse in this story. If you are offended by that, please do not read.

Rating: M

Disclaimer: This is an AU. I do not own Sam or Dean or Supernatural. Don't own anything in the story actually, except the story muse.

This is a story close to my heart. Review, but please do not flame me.

Chapter 1:

It's just the beasts under your bed:

Sam Candelles cuddled up in his double bed, huge green eyes staring up at the dark, blinking off the sleep, straining to keep awake. His body shook with silent fear, beads of sweat running down his face. The weather was sweltering, and he would have given anything to lower the sheets surrounding his body like a shroud and let the air from the wobbling fan above his head cool his skin. But the sheet was an armor, albeit the worst one he could come up with. But they somehow infused an impossible ray of hope in him. The sheet and the pillow made him fight with more courage than he thought possible. They were his friends and his enemies. A way out of, a way in, a covering of the shame he felt. Maybe tonight, just tonight, there would be peace. God, how he longed for peace.

Somewhere he had read that true courage is not the absence of fear, it is the grit to go forward even if fear gripped you in its evil claws. But Sam was not strong enough for courage, that's what he thought, and it broke every part of him that was waiting to be broken. It left him holding on to thin air, wondering what could be done about his situation and when he would probably die and put an end to all of this.

He stared at the clock on the wall, illuminated by the dull blue light emanating from the television, switched on and completely mute. It was 3 in the morning, the dark shadows outside his window swaying in a kind of weird dance. He would be really sleepy in school tomorrow, but he had trained himself to be alert even if he was sleepy, having perfected the art in the previous years. He did not worry about not getting enough sleep. On the contrary. If he did not fall asleep for the rest of his life, it still would not have been enough.

The rustling of the tree branches outside his window made him jump. He pushed himself down on his bed, forcing himself to relax, wondering if anything would be fine again, heart thudding in his chest as he tried to control his breathing. A waft of breeze on his face calmed him a little and he pushed down further, curling himself into a small ball. His eyes started closing, and he let the sweet darkness of sleep pull him under.

He slowly opened his eyes, feeling confused and scared. Before he could register anything, he saw a figure hurriedly rushing out of his door with a certain clumsiness. He sat up immediately, trying to shake off the webs of sleep from his mind. With horrifying reality, he looked down at his body.

The sheet was pulled down and he could feel the sense of being violated somehow. It crawled under his skin and ate at his being in slow pieces until there was nothing left but a terrible ache of being degraded. A sense of condemnation came over him Why was he not awake? How could he have fallen asleep? He had become so deprived of sleep lately that when it overcame his mind, he was not able to shake it off. But he almost always woke up feeling dirty and filthy.

That man had been in the room again... doing that thing... touching him. Sam felt the contents of his dinner rising up his throat and he resolutely swallowed it down. He was not going to break. He was not going to break, not yesterday, not today, not tomorrow.

He would find a way out of this hell. Where that man would never have access to him, where he could live in peace and safety. He knew he could run away, but rationally, would a teenager living off the streets be any better off than what he was now? The risks would be more than he could take. Sam was amazed at the way his mind was calm and collected under the circumstances. It was as if he was blocking off the pain and the filth and thinking strategically to get out of this hell. He would get out. For sure.

But as he lay back on his pillow and prayed that he would be safe for the rest of the night, he could not stop a shard of his broken heart escaping from his eyes in a single crystal tear.

Did you like the beginning? Review please!