Don't You Cry No More

Set between 4x02 and 4x03

Chapter One

Dean and Sam Winchester had moved to separate bedrooms in Bobby's house after their run-in with the Witnesses. It was a nice change from the living room.

Dean lay in bed, halfway towards slumber. He never heard the door open or the footsteps across the room. The first sign that danger was close was the cloth that was pressed over his nose and mouth. Dean's eyes snapped open as he opened his mouth to yell. It was muffled by the cloth, and Dean raised his fists, but they were pinned above his head. As Dean struggled, a familiar scent stung his nostrils.


Dean held his breath, but it was too late. He slowly blacked out.


Dean opened his eyes slowly, the chloroform still weighing heavy on his mind and body. The first thing he became aware of was that a gag was tied around his head, preventing him from talking. The second was that his hands were handcuffed to the railing of the headboard. The third was that he was naked.

Dean lifted his head to see a scruffy-looking man in his mid-forties in the corner of the room. He had closed the door.

"Well…" the man whispered. "He's awake."

"What do you want, you son of a bitch?" Dean asked, but it came out as a muffle against the gag.

"Shh…don't be like that," the man whispered as he approached the bed. Dean tried to kick the man, but his ankles were handcuffed to the foot of the bed. He was helpless. The man knelt on the side of the bed. "I'll make you feel better."

Dean glared at the man, trying to think of a weapon to use on him, until the man moved his hand and started cupping Dean. Dean's eyes widened.

No…Oh, gosh, no…

The man straddled Dean at the waist, removing his shirt. Dean started yelling and bucking his body to get the man off. The man leaned over, sniffing Dean's neck. Dean turned his face away, eyes shut tight against this nightmare.

Oh, gosh…Please let Sammy hear something…Please…

When Dean opened his eyes, the man had already removed all his clothes. The man sat on Dean's groin, pressing their…parts…together.

Oh, gosh…Sammy…

A tear rolled down Dean's cheek as he closed his eyes, unable to witness anymore. The man began touching the both of them and doing stuff Dean didn't even want to think about. Dean cried as his body was violated. He jerked when the man entered him, beginning the sex. Dean could feel his body automatically responding, and his breath hitched with every thrust the man delivered. After what seemed like an eternity, the man climbed off of him and uncuffed his ankles only, sliding Dean's pajama pants back onto Dean.

"Thank you," said the man as he left, closing the door.

Dean lay in bed like that for who knew how long. At long last, Dean rolled over onto his side, his head resting on his arm and his other arm over his head. His wrists were chafing under the cuffs, and he couldn't move his arms much. He pulled his legs up a little as he let himself go.


Sam opened his eyes to find the sun shining through the window. He got up and dressed as he made his way down the hall towards the stairs. As he passed Dean's room, he thought he heard a sniffle. Sam stopped and leaned his ear against the door. There it was again: a deep intake of breath.

Is Dean crying? Sam thought as he slowly turned the knob.

"Hey, Dean, are you okay?" Sam asked as he opened the door. "I was passing by, and—"

Sam froze at the sight that greeted him. Dean was lying on his side on his bed half-naked and turned away from Sam, his hands cuffed to the headboard above his head and cuffs laying abandoned at the foot of the bed.

"Oh, my gosh…" Sam breathed. "Dean…" He rushed to the bed and placed a hand on Dean's shoulder, not expecting the reaction Dean would give.

Dean jolted under his touch, his breathing speeding up, as he used his handcuffed hands to pull himself further away from Sam, his legs curling in until they touched his chest. As Dean's legs moved, Sam caught sight of the blood and—was that semen?—on the sheet just below Dean's crotch.

Oh, gosh…he was…

Tears fell down Sam's face as he sat on the bed.

"Dean…" Sam breathed. "Who did this?" Silence. "Dean, please, it's me. I need to get a good look at you to help you. I'm not going to hurt you."

Sam reached a hand forward and placed it on Dean's arm. Dean flinched a little, but allowed Sam to turn him onto his back. Dean looked up at Sam with wide, terrified, tear-stained eyes. A gag was tied very tightly around Dean's mouth. It was a wonder Dean could even breathe. Sam slowly reached forward and gently tilted Dean's head forward to get to the knot at the back of his head. Sam struggled with the knot with trembling fingers.

"Oh, gosh…Dean…" Sam cried, the tears flowing freely now. He finally managed to get the knot undone, and he removed the gag. Dean's head fell back onto the pillow, and he drew in shaky breaths. "Dean, who did this?" Dean didn't say anything, just closed his eyes and grimaced in anguish. Sam looked at the cuffs. "I'm gonna get you out of those." Sam stood up to go get his lock pick.

"SAMMY!" Dean exclaimed, his head whipping towards his brother, eyes unbelievably wide. "Don't leave me! Please! Don't go! Don't go!"

Sam knelt quickly by the bed, setting a hand on Dean's forehead. "Hey, hey, I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying right here. Nothing will ever get you again. I promise." Sam watched Dean settle slightly as he comforted him. Sam turned his head towards the door. "Bobby! Bring the lock pick! Someone broke into Dean's room!"

Bobby Singer could be heard moving downstairs. "What?! What happened? I'm not gonna like this, am I?"

Sam clenched his jaw. "No."

They heard Bobby run up the stairs, and their surrogate father appeared in the doorway. When he spotted Dean, his face fell.

"Holy mother of…" muttered Bobby, tears forming in his crinkled eyes. Dean closed his eyes and began crying again.

"Bobby, come on!" Sam urged him from his position next to Dean.

Bobby surged forward and inserted the lock pick into the cuffs. Once they were removed, Dean curled onto his side away from the other hunters, arms hugging his torso and legs curled up to his chest. Sam rushed around the bed and sat on the floor in front of Dean, placing an arm on his shoulder. Sam drew Dean towards himself, his long arms circling him. Dean wrapped his arms tightly around Sam, clinging to his little brother for dear life. Sobs shook the broken man as he cried into Sam's shoulder.

"Dean…gosh…I'm so sorry…" Sam told him. He comforted his brother for a few minutes. "Dean, we have to take you to the hospital." Sam didn't think it was possible, but Dean clasped onto him all the more. "I'm sorry. We have to…you're hurt. Please, do it for me."

Dean slowly loosened his grip and let Sam stand up. Sam grabbed Dean by the arms and helped him get out of bed. Dean's legs collapsed from under him, so Sam scooped Dean from the floor, one arm under his knees and one behind his back. As Sam carried him into the hall, Dean pressed his face into Sam's neck and wrapped his arms around him.

Tears began flowing again from Sam's eyes. He had never seen his brother like this. Dean was always the protector…the tough bad-ass hunter who took down demons, vampires, spirits and werewolves without hesitation, all the while making sure nothing ever hurt his Sammy. Now, Dean had been reduced to this sobbing wreck of a man, sending an anger towards the bastard who did this coursing through Sam. But he had to put that aside for now. Now, it was Sam that needed to be the protector.

"I got you, Dean," Sam told him as he made his way down the stairs and out the front door. Bobby opened the passenger door of the black 1967 Chevy Impala, and Sam slid Dean onto the leather seat. Sam rushed around the fender and got into the driver's seat. Dean slid over to him, and Sam slipped an arm around his distraught older brother. Sam started the car and drove one-handed at breakneck speed to the hospital. They pulled up to the ER doors, and Sam pulled Dean into his arms as he got out of the Impala. Sam rushed through the automatic doors.

"Help!" Sam called. "Somebody!"

A doctor ushered Sam towards a gurney as several nurses came over. Sam placed Dean on the gurney, clasping his hand as they moved the gurney down the hall.

"What happened?" asked the female doctor.

"Someone broke into our uncle's house sometime last night and raped him," Sam told them. "I have to stay with him. I'm his brother."

"What are your names?"

"I'm Sam Singer, and he's Dean," Sam supplied, giving them Bobby's surname for cover. They were still technically supposed to be legally dead, not to mention wanted by the law.

"Okay, Dean, we're gonna take care of you now, okay?"

Dean gave no reaction that he had heard; he just clamped onto Sam's hand harder.

They wheeled Dean to the ER, where they cleaned off the bodily fluids and gave him antibiotic cream. Once they attached an IV to the back of his hand, they wheeled him to his own private room.

Sam sat by Dean's bed as his brother slipped into sleep. Sam stroked Dean's hand as tears flowed down his face.

"I'm so sorry, Dean," said Sam, his voice barely above a whisper.

Dean twitched in his sleep, his brow furrowed in pain. He began rolling his head back and forth.

"No…" he mumbled.

Sam stood up and leaned over Dean.

"Stop it…" Dean moaned.

Sam didn't dare touch him in case it made the nightmare worse. "Dean, wake up."

Dean began thrashing in his bed. "No! Please! Don't hurt me!"

The heart monitor began screeching an alarm as Dean's heart rate and blood pressure skyrocketed. Several nurses came rushing in with syringes.

"No, wait!" Sam ordered. "It's just a nightmare!" The nurses froze as Sam leaned over Dean. "Dean, wake up." He took a chance and placed his hands on Dean's shoulders. As expected, Dean bucked violently, screaming. "Dean, it's Sammy! Please wake up!" He began stroking Dean's face, desperate to soothe him. Dean began to calm as he slowly woke. "That's it, bro. Look at me."

Dean opened wide eyes, gazing up at Sam. He immediately grasped Sam in a terrified hug. Sam hugged him back, waving off the nurses. When they had gone, Dean spoke.


"I know, Dean, I know."

"I'm scared, Sammy," Dean whimpered.

Sam clasped Dean tighter, tears falling down his face, scared for his brother. Their father taught them to never show any sign of weakness, and Dean had always followed every single one of their father's orders, even long after the man had died. The fact that Dean was actually saying he was scared out loud, this must have really shaken him.

"I'm sorry, Dean," Sam pleaded. "This shouldn't have happened. I'm so sorry."

"Not your fault," Dean told him. "Don't blame you."

He was speaking in phrases and short sentences. Dean was too traumatized to form a long, complex thought.

"I'm gonna take care of you," Sam assured him. "Nothing's gonna hurt you ever again."

Bobby walked into the room and stood by the doorway. Dean's grip on Sam tightened when he heard the footsteps.

"Hey, hey, it's just Bobby," said Sam as he pulled away so Dean could look at his visitor. "Is it okay for Bobby to be here?"

Dean looked at Bobby, his panic settling back down. His mouth was now clamped closed, and he nodded a little. Sam frowned as Dean looked apologetically at Bobby, the phrase "Sorry" in his green eyes.

"Don't worry about it, son," said Bobby. He slowly approached Dean and gently placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Mind if I sit in here for a while?"

Dean shook his head as his eyes drifted back over to Sam. He looked at Sam pleadingly.

"What is it, Dean?" Sam asked. "What do you need?" Dean glanced over at the pitcher of water on the table in the corner. "Thirsty?" Dean nodded. Sam got up and poured a small glass of water for Dean. He brought it over and helped Dean take a small sip. "Better?" Dean smiled slightly. "Good. Anything else?" Dean shook his head. "Okay. Let me know."

Sam noticed that Dean had only talked since his whole ordeal when it was just him and Sam. Bobby had once told him that was what happened after their mom died. Dean had stopped talking for a while, only talking to his baby brother when no one was around. Bobby once caught him standing next to Sam's crib, his tiny face pressed to the bars. The four-year-old had whispered to baby Sam, not noticing the older man in the doorway.

Once again, Dean was reverting back to that in light of one traumatizing event too many. It would take a while to get Dean back from this one. But Sam wouldn't give up.

After the nurses saw the calming effect that Sam had on Dean, they had talked to the doctor and had a cot brought into Dean's room for Sam to sleep on. There was no way they'd be splitting these two up any time soon. Sam had thanked them and promised he'd be good.


Over the next two days, Dean was showing good progress. He responded to and communicated with other people, albeit without vocalizing unless it was just Sam, and he was eating. The doctors told Sam that this was a good sign. It meant Dean actually wanted to heal and get past this instead of shutting down to avoid the pain. His physical injuries were also doing very well. No infections were setting in. Sam never left Dean's side except to use the bathroom in Dean's room. The only time Bobby left was at night when visiting hours were over. During the day, he fetched things for the brothers, including Sam's meals. The three of them were now facing the TV, watching the news out of the corner of their eyes as they tried to have some fun.

"No way, old man," Sam teased. "I could so take you."

Bobby scoffed. "I've been hunting since you were in diapers."

"At least I don't have to wear them anymore," Sam smiled. He caught Dean smiling out of the corner of his eye. If he and Bobby kept this up, maybe they could get something out of Dean.

Bobby seemed to catch on to what Sam was thinking, and he leaned forward. "No, you're right. They don't really make them in your size, Gigantor."

"Hey, the ladies like a tall man. Whereas, the last time you got out was, what…the Middle Ages?"

"Experience trumps youth, squirt."

Dean let out a laugh, smiling at the two of them. Bobby and Sam smiled at him and joined in with the laughing. Sam looked down at the floor as Dean quit laughing. The heart monitor started beeping frantically. Sam's head shot up. Dean was staring at the television, eyes widened in terror, hyperventilating and shaking. Sam stood up and placed his hands on Dean's shoulders.

"Dean, what is it?" Sam asked. "What's wrong?" Dean's eyes wouldn't leave the television, so Sam turned to see what was bothering him.

A news report was on. The text on the bottom read: Marcus Kinzer Breakout. On the right side of the screen, a mug shot of a scruffy, middle-aged man was displayed. Sam looked back at Dean to see his brother's eyes locked on that mug shot. Only one person would get this reaction out of Dean.

"Bobby, turn that thing off!" Sam ordered as he placed his hands on either side of Dean's face. "Dean, listen to me. Dean?" Dean still stared at the TV, the hyperventilating getting worse. Sam lowered the bed rail and climbed onto the bed next to Dean, wrapping his arms around him. Sam pulled Dean's head to his chest, placing a hand in his short-cropped hair. "He can't hurt you. I'm here. I'm not letting anything happen to you. Shh…" Dean sobbed into Sam's chest, clutching at his brother's shirt. "Shh…We'll tell the cops and they'll catch him. He can't get near you ever again."

Bobby nodded at Sam and left so Dean could talk to him.

"Dean…" Sam pressed, hating to ask. "The man on the TV…was that him?"

Dean took a deep breath. "Yes."

"You had a flashback?" Sam went on.

Dean nodded. "Don't leave me, Sammy. Don't leave me."

Sam leaned back against the bed, and Dean pressed himself closer to Sam, laying his head on Sam's chest. Sam wrapped his right arm around Dean's shoulders, placing his left hand on Dean's head. It made Sam think of when the two of them were kids: Sam would have a bad dream, and Dean would climb into his bed to chase away the nightmares. Now was the time to return the favor. After a few minutes, Dean drifted off, his shallow breaths evening out.

Bobby poked his head in. "He okay now?"

"Yeah," Sam whispered. "Tell the cops that it was Marcus Kinzer that raped Dean."

"Okay," said Bobby. He left the room, and Sam slowly fell asleep.