They didn't expect their Dad to come back for another day, and when that would happen, he didn't know what he'd tell the man. The truth? Or would this be their little secret? He wondered that as he placed Sam back into bed, removed the kid's stained and wet jeans, removed Sam's shirt with oddly placed wet patches and left him in his … stained boxers.
He wasn't gonna touch that. He'd wait for Sam to wake up and then shove the kid into the shower. It was just piss, he was sure of that and that wouldn't hurt Sam if he wore the boxers a few more hours.
The clock on the nightstand showed 9:04 am in big green numbers and he could feel the hour in his belly. It was rumbling, begging him for food. All they had at hand was soup and cheese and some left over pizza from yesterday. Sam went out to a party and he indulged in some pizza. So sue him.
Bringing the pizza to the bed, he laid down, sighing when his achy back hit the cold wall. Sam would bitch for bringing food into his bed, but hey, the little idiot was occupying Dean's bed, so if the next few nights Sam would wake up with some bread crumbs for company, well ... bitch had it coming for making him clean vomit whole night long.
Between one pizza slice and the next, Sam had managed to turn around showing Dean his bare back. He was just about to reach over to hike up the bed cover, because they really couldn't afford Sam getting a cold on top of everything, when Sam heaved a long breath: "They invited me, Dean."
His hand stopped midair, hovering above the empty space between the beds. Sam's voice was shot to shit; sounded like rust, if rust had a sound.
Pulling back his hand, he sat as still as he could on the bed, trying not to breathe too loud, trying not to do anything that would interrupt his brother. It was rare for Sam to talk, rare to share things these days and he'd do everything to allow Sam space and time to do so.
"They said t'was just juice ... looked like juice."
He stopped breathing all together, his eyes never leaving Sam's back that was starting to shake slightly in the bright, morning light.
The pizza slice broke in half and fell onto the plate. It made a plop sound but neither of them heard it. A car drove to the parking lot next to them and a family of four got out, a girl and a boy arguing about ice cream. Mom yelling at them that ice cream wasn't breakfast.
"... tasted like juice, but..." it looked like his brother was struggling with finding the right words and that never happened with Sam. Sam was a word wizard, "... not."
There was a need burning inside of him, a need to ask Sam what that meant, what the hell happened, but he knew that if he'd say anything right now, Sam would shut down and shut up. He'd just have to be patient and wait Sam out and then go out, find those kids and kill them.
The bang of the door of the room next to theirs was loud enough to rattle a picture hanging near the window. It wouldn't fall, Dean was sure of it, but it felt as if it would make Sam stop talking.
He was starting to get an idea as to where all of this was going and he didn't want for Sam to say it. Saying it would cement it, would make the idea a reality and he didn't want that. He wanted to be wrong.
"They said I was a, a nerd and ... that they just invited me for ... for fun. Made fun of … of my shirt … my sh-shoes. How I talked, m-my hair, m-mme 'n I couldn't... 'm so sick of always being the new kid, so sick of it, Dean … I thought," Sam lowered his voice, mumbling words into the pillow, "this time would be different. But," a shudder made the next words come out as a breath, "it wasn't."
Dean sighed. Fuck. Fuck. He wanted to be wrong, but he wasn't.
Yeah, his brother was a nerdy nerd who geeked, but if anyone should make fun of that, it was him. No one else had the right to do that to Sam. Not to his brother, not to anyone. He knew his brother getting invited to a party like that was just too good to be true, but how could he say no to Sam? He could never say no to Sammy.
He wanted to go out and rip out all of those kids hearts and stomp on them just like they stomped all over Sam's.
His brother's back started to shake in honest now and the sight was so familiar to him ... familiar in a way that shouldn't ever be ... he shouldn't have seen his little brother cry as many times as he had. Sam had a good soul, an honest soul, such a beautiful, kind soul that should never know this kind of hurt. One day people would see that in his brother, one day people would beg to be Sam's friends, would line up to just be in the presence of his brother.
"I'm so s-s-sorry..."
The rest of the pizza slice got crushed in his fist until it finally slipped from his grasp leaving behind grease on his fingers and palm.
He managed to choke out: "We're gonna get out of this shitty town Sammy, get into a new town and you'll find friends there. I promise you." before he had to start swallowing down tears of his own.
They both knew it was all a lie. Sam would always be the new kid, new in school, new in town. Kids would always look at him and see an outcast, someone who didn't belong, new material to tease and abuse. But if there was one thing Dean knew, it was that Sam would one day grow into all the training he was doing; and then people better watch out.
"Get some sleep, alright," he got up and hiked up the blanket, covering Sam's shaking shoulder, his hand lingering for a second on top of his baby brother's nape, before he sat back on his bed, pizza forgotten, "just get some sleep, kiddo. I'll be here."
Through the sounds of sniffles, he heard: "I know."
The End. Thank you for reading.