Disclaimer: I own Supernatural and Sarah Palin is a genius.
This is a extension of a sort from authoressnebula's Don't Say a Word. It's pretty dark and kinda graphic. So BE WARNED!
For those of you waiting for the Definition of a Human sequel, BE PATIENT!! I will write it as soon as I'm done with No Matter What.
Anyway, enjoy chapter one!
Sam was eleven the first time it happened. He didn't know what exactly it was or why it did happen. He just knew it was wrong.
"When's dad coming home?"
"Later tonight. Which is why we need to finish all these freaking chores."
"I call cleaning the weapons!"
"Ha ha," Dean laughed sarcastically. "That's a good one."
"Aw, c'mon Dean! How come you get to do all the cool chores?"
"Because I'm cooler, smarter, and much more handsome."
Sam and Dean were walking home from school. It was the last Friday of the month. That meant Dean would go out and buy a 'special' tonight. These 'specials' were usually a movie rental or a bar of chocolate, or something they think 'normal' kids got on a regular basis.
When they got home, they both hurried with their chores to appease their father when he returned. Sam, grudgingly, cleaned the kitchen and bathroom while Dean cleaned the weapons and made sure all the sigils were in place and the salt lines weren't broken.
Right around six o'clock, Dean wiped his hands, satisfied that his father would be happy with the result of their work. "Alright Sammy, I'll be back in about half an hour, no more than an hour."
"'Kay! I got homework to do anyway."
"Dude, it's Friday night! You're not supposed to do homework until Monday morning!"
"Psh! In your book you're not supposed to do homework at all!"
Dean shrugged. "Hey, as long as I pass the classes who cares about the grades?"
Sam rolled his eyes. "You're hopeless."
Dean smiled as he slipped on his leather jacket and grabbed the motel keys. "Alright, don't answer door, don't answer the phone unless it's dad, in which case…"
"…he'll ring once then call back. After a few years of this, Dean, I got it."
"Just making sure." Dean opened the motel door and stepped out. "See ya in a bit."
Sam waited until he heard Dean lock the door before jumping up and running into his room. Sam bent down and reached under his bed. He grunted as he straightened up with the narrow box in his hand. Sam opened it gleefully and stared at the beauty. It was a hunting knife. The silver blade was new and shiny. It had a strong maple handle with silver inlay decorating it. The silver inlay made the letters DW.
Sam barely ran a hand over it, not wanting to spoil the newness of it before he gave it to Dean. Sam had been saving money for several years now, always wanting to give Dean a present that he deserved. Dean had always protected him; even had tried to protect him from the knowledge of the supernatural world for as long as he could. Sam wanted Dean to know how much he appreciated all of this. As well as that because Sam was giving Dean this knife, it'd be Sam's way of protecting Dean.
Dean's sixteenth birthday was in two weeks now. Sam just had to keep it hidden from him until then. Though that was going to be more of a challenge of Sam's will rather than Sam's ability to keep a secret. Like a true Winchester, he was a pro at keeping secrets. He wasn't as good as Dean or his dad but good enough to fool everyone else. However, Sam really wanted to see Dean's reaction to the knife. Dean loved hunting so Sam was sure that Dean would glow at the present. Dean shows real pure affection of any kind rarely so Sam was hoping for some show of pride or gratitude from Dean when Sam gave him the gift.
Sam knew Dean was proud of him. Dean showed this whenever he ruffled Sam's hair after he'd shown Dean his latest grade, or when he smiled at Sam after shooting all the bottles on the fence. But Sam reveled in the idea of Dean voicing his pride, or even gratitude.
Sam's head snapped up at the sound of the keys in the door. He quickly replaced the lid of the box and slid it under his bed. He ran to the door to greet a very cold Dean.
"Freaking Alaskan weather…"
"We're in Minnesota, Dean."
"Might as well be Alaska." Dean quickly took off his boots and practically ran to the couch and its beckoning warmth. Sam quickly followed, curling up close to Dean's cold side to offer his own warmth. "So…"
Dean smiled and held out his hand. It was a movie rental.
"Groundhog Day?" Sam inquired. "I heard it was good…"
"Dude…" Dean smiled. "It's freakin' hilarious! You'll love it! I promise!"
And as usual, Dean was right.
It was the middle of the night, about two or three in the morning, Sam really had to pee. Not that it was unusual. Sam usually had to go to the bathroom at night.
That night, Sam really wished he had held it to morning.
While Sam was in the bathroom he heard the door unlock and someone stumble in. Dad… Sam heard him curse as something in the kitchen fell. Drunk by the sounds of it. Sam crept out of the bathroom and tiptoed back towards his room.
"S-sam…" John slurred.
Sam froze and turned towards his dad. Sam hated it when John drank. He was always irritable and cranky when he had a few too many.
"Hey, ca-an ya git me a g-glass a water?"
"Bri-ing it ta ma room…"
Sam went to the kitchen and filled up a glass of water. Walking as quietly as possible so not to wake Dean, he entered John's room. John was sitting on the bed swaying a little. Sam handed his father the glass. "Here, sir."
"Th-thanks, Sammy." John quickly drained the water, sighing satisfyingly when he reached the bottom of the glass. "Hey Sammy?"
"Can I talk to ya for a sec?"
"Sure." I walked up and sat next to him on the bed. John leaned towards him a little, wrapping his arms around his youngest son's shoulders. "Ya know… I miss ya mather very mu-uch…"
Sam nodded. He didn't really share his father's feelings on the subject. Having never met her, he couldn't really miss her. However, he did often wish she was still alive so that he could have a mother.
His dad leaned in closer, smelling his son's hair. "Ya're sa mu-uch lik her…"
Sam shifted uncomfortable. There was something wrong about this…
John's arm traveled down Sam's body until it reached the hem of his shirt. He slowly started to pull the shirt up.
Everything seemed to snap. John slapped his other hand over Sam's mouth, causing Sam to automatically scream in panic. John grabbed the towel off the nightstand and stuffed it into Sam's mouth, using it as a crude gag. He then quickly pulled Sam's shirt off over his head, using one hand at all times to keep Sam pinned. Once the shirt was off, John bent down and started to kiss Sam all over his torso.
Sam eyes were wide and teary with fear. There was something very wrong about this. He wasn't quite sure what his father was doing to him, but he knew it was wrong. Wrong, so wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong! Sam whimpered in protest as the kisses got more demanding.
"Sh… Sammee… Don' wanna wake De-an. Wha would he thi-ink wen he se-es ya doin' thi-is ta me…"
What? Sam thought, confused. What am I doing? Dad's doing this to me! Sam whimpered louder as John grabbed the hem of Sam's bottoms and boxers and pulled them down below his knees. Sam blushed in humiliation. This isn't right… John started to kneed and caress the soft flesh. "Lo-oks so mu-uch lik Maree…"
Sam sobbed as he watched his father pulled down his own pants. John's eyes held a hungry glint as he started to grind his hips on Sam's. Sam's eyes widened in horror as he felt his body react. Wha-what the hell's going on? Why is my…? No, I don't like this… Oh god! Maybe I am doing it… Am I making Dad do this?! Is that why my body's doing this!? Oh god, I don't like this! No… Daddy, please stop! I promise not to make you do it again! Just please stop!
Suddenly, John flipped Sam over on his stomach. He kept a hard grip on Sam's arms as he started to rub his gear hard and fast on Sam's ass.
Oh god, Daddy please stop! It hurts! Please! I promise I'll be good! I won't do this to you again, I swear! I'll be good, I'll be good, I'll be good, I'll be good…!
"G-god… I-I mi-iss ya soooo much Ma-ary!"
Sam screamed into the towel as something entered him. It split him in half and tore his insides apart. Sam's body moved up and down in rhythm with the intrusion, each time more painful and more devastating. Something wet was trailing down Sam's body…
No! No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! Dean! Please, make Daddy stop! I promise not to make him do it again! Please, Dean! I promise…! Then Sam realized. He couldn't tell Dean. He couldn't let him know. If Dean knew what Sam made his father, Dean's hero, do…! God, Dean would hate him for life.
Sam squeezed his eyes shut, at a futile attempt to block out the pain. Sam whimpered and sobbed for his father to stop. To please let him be done soon. Sam felt disgusted as his body reacted more with practically each movement. And it didn't stop. The intruding object worked its way deeper and deeper until is shook and shot something into Sam, causing him to scream again. Oh god, Daddy, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry…!
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