Yes, John is going to be out of character in this. I know that the John on the show would NEVER do this...but still, makes for a good story; as twisted at that sounds, lol.
Sam woke, gasping for breath. He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the nightmares. They wouldn't leave him alone though. They loved to poke at him, to torment him.
The walls of the room was thin. He heard his father drinking in the other room. When he stayed, and not on a hunt, he always got two rooms. When they were younger they just got two beds and shared; but John soon realized they were too old to be sharing beds anymore. Besides, a seperate bedroom made things a whole lot easier for his father.
He stiffened as he thought about those moments. Those moments where Dean was out breathing in some fresh air and John asking Sam to come into the other room. How John would lock the door and close the shades and how Sam just stood there, knowing what was going to happen.
Bile was in his throat as he remembered the first time it happened. John forced him over the bed, ordered him to strip. Ordered him to do what he was told, to not ask questions.
Sam begged for him to stop, he was only 12 when it first happened. But the age didn't seem to matter to John. John ordered him not to cry out, not to make noise. Painfully Sam obeyed. He hurt like hell for the next week but bore it silently even though it was obvious to Dean that something was wrong.
But Sam was terrified of telling his brother. Terrified of experiencing the wrath of John Winchester and of Dean being utterly disgusted with him.
Dean was out with friends that night. They were only staying for a couple of weeks, but Dean was always quick on making friends.
Sam had locked the door on purpose, but he still laid on the bed, petrified. Dean wasn't there to protect him, he knew his father was going to take advatange of it. He hated himself for being so weak and defenless. He was 16, damn it. He should be able to fight himself against John! He wasn't a child anymore...and yet; he couldn't.
"Sam?" John's gruff voice appeared from behind the door. "Sam, open the door!"
"Leave me alone, dad." Sam pleaded. "Please...not tonight. Just please..."
"Don't make me pick the lock," John growled. "Open the Goddamned door, Sam."
"Please, Dad...no, just leave me alone-please." Sam was begging now. Tears were rolling down his face. "Just for one night, please..."
"Damn it, Sam, open the fucking door!" John's voice was really angry now, he wasn't used to being disobeyed. "You don't get to lock me out, Samuel."
"Please dad..." Terrified Sam hugged himself, tears falling faster now. "Please." He heard the lock being picked and bit his lip, terrified of the wrath that he was about to experience.
The door was pushed open. John stood in the doorway, his eyes flashing with anger. He walked over to the bed. Sam got up.
"I'm sorry," he managed to gasp. "I'm sorry."
"No, you're not," John growled harshly. "Not yet, but you well be." He went back to close and lock the door. Sam swallowed, he was trapped. Roughly John hit him on the side of his chest and threw him over the bed. They both knew John couldn't hit him in the face, than Dean would see the bruises.
"Strip," he ordered. Too terrified to disobeye Sam did what he was told and he winced as John roughly entered him. It was going to be harder than any other times that they had done it, even the first time. He buried his head into the pillow-too afraid to make a single sound. To let a single sob escape. He could only pray for John to be over quickly.
When John was finished he lowered Sam's head, forcing his penis into his son's mouth. Sam took it, unable to do anything else, silent tears spilled from his eyes.
Finally when John was finished he grabbed the belt from his jeans.
"Please, no..." Sam started to beg but realized it was pointless. He cried out as the belt struck his back, over and over again. John was silent and sullen when he did this, completly ignoring Sam's cries for help and his muffled apologizies.
He grabbed Sam's hair and pulled him up and whispered harshly into his ear.
"Next time you lock the door on me you'll wish you've never been born. Got that boy?"
Sam quickly nodded, gasping for breath. When John stormed out he laid there, trembling and went to grab his inhaler. He had asthma for a number of years and these incidences always made it difficult for him to breathe.
He slowly dressed himself and laid on he bed and quietly sobbed himself to sleep wishing desperatly that Dean was there, to protect him and to save him from the monster that they both lived with...