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The Hero of His Own Story	By : unrequited666 Category: Supernatural > Slash - Male/Male Views: 4760 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 3
- 4
- 5
Warnings: Dark, evil!Dean, non-con, violence, slash, wincest,
character death. Don�t like? Don�t read! No flamers!

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Chapter Four

�The school has a fee-help fund. I could help you apply.�

Sam hoped the anxiety didn�t show on his face at Coach Rowden�s words. Because that was the last thing he needed. Some well-meaning teacher calling his brother up to talk about
Sam�s needs. After all, Dean
prided himself in being able to anticipate Sam�s needs before Sam knew them
himself. He would not take it well if someone told him otherwise.

�Thanks for the offer Coach, but my brother doesn�t like to take
charity.�

The Coach smiled kindly down at Sam. �Look kid, I know it�s tough
with just the two of you. It�s okay to ask people for a little help sometimes.�

Sam grimaced, shaking slightly with nervous energy. �No offence
Coach, but this is like the sixth time you asked me to join the team. And well�
my brother has it covered.�

The Coach grinned. �You�re wanting me to
shut my trap?�

Sam blanched, rushing to explain �I didn�t mean to offend you, I��

To Sam�s surprise, the Coach laughed, clapping him on the back. �I
was just yanking your chain boy!�

Sam flushed, feeling awkward and wishing that he could just leave.
He snapped to attention when he realised that the teacher was still talking to
him.

�It seems a waste though. You�re a natural athlete. You could make
any of the school teams��

Sam frowned, rubbing his forehead as he watched the Coach�s lips
move but hearing no sound come out. Suddenly he had a headache. Perhaps Dean
had been a bit too enthusiastic with the dosage last night. He concentrated,
trying to bring his attention back to the present.

�Unfortunately, team members do
have to buy their own uniforms� his Coach was saying, �but if you can�t spare
the money� Sam are you alright?�

The Coach�s arms shot out, steadying the young boy as he swayed
dangerously on his feet. The room spun for a moment, everything shifting out of
focus, before a warmth flooded back through him and
his discomfort eased. Sam licked his lips.

�Maybe I should call your brother. This is the fifth time I�ve seen
you collapse,� Coach Rowden said worriedly.

�T-that�s o-okay,� Sam managed to stammer out, �I don�t wanna worry him.�

Coach Rowden eyed the fourteen year old
with an indecipherable look and Sam squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze.
�Listen, I�m not trying to pressure you. It�s just that you remind me of one of
my kids when he was your age. And well� maybe my wife is right and. I�m just
compensating. Empty nest syndrome and all�� (*A/N For those who don�t know,
empty nest syndrome is the depression parents feel when their children move out)

�It�s okay, I understand,� Sam interjected smoothly. �But I really
can�t join the team.� Sam just hoped the gym teacher wouldn�t get it into his
head to call Dean after all. He knew how Dean felt about Sam playing sports,
that it was another opportunity where Sam could get hurt. And Dean couldn�t
allow that.
�
�Well if you�re sure�� Coach Rowden
paused, as if waiting for Sam to dramatically change his mind. When it became
apparent that the response he was hoping for would not be forthcoming, the
Coach sighed �but I hope you�ll still come and talk to me every now and
again.��

Sam nodded. Anything to be able to get through the
gym doors. But he couldn�t help feeling that no matter how hard he tried
to avoid the teacher in future (and Sam would be avoiding him), the teacher
would just find other ways to interact further with him. He really seemed to
have latched onto Sam.

��One last thing - you�re
friends with young Rich, right?� Before Sam could answer, the Coach continued
�Could you ask him to drop by to see me when he has the time?�

�Sure.�

The Coach waved his hand in dismissal, and Sam left gratefully,
still feeling nauseous. That was a close call.

***

Rich caught up with him in the corridors. �What did Rowden want?�

It had been about a week since Rich had visited his home and to
Sam�s pleasant surprise, Rich still seemed interested in being friends.
Although Rich no longer sat with him at lunch, as if sensing Sam�s predicament
and not wanting to cause Sam any trouble with his brother, Rich still sat with
him in class, talking to him and making wicked jokes.
�
�He just wanted to ask me to reconsider joining a sports team.�

Rich chuckled. �Rowden is like a dog with
a bone. This is like the fifth time he�s asked you?�

�Sixth,� Sam corrected.

�He�s sure taken an interest in you.�

Sam fidgeted anxiously at Rich�s words, prompting his mind to
scramble for a way to get the Coach to stop trying to interfere in his affairs.
He didn�t want his brother to get involved. �He wants you to drop by later when
you have time.�

Rich looked surprised. �Wonder what he wants?� Rich asked, more to
himself.

They walked in companionable silence for moments longer before Sam
finally realised something � how did
Rich know that Rowden was, as Rich put it, �taking an
interest� in Sam?

Before he could phrase the question, Rich asked �What�s your next
class?�

�Music.�

�You haven�t been to a music class yet, right?�

Sam wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. Something in Rich�s tone
made him nervous. �N-no.�

�You might wanna be careful,� Rich
advised, �Mrs Parker�s bark is not
worse than her bite.� A thought suddenly striking him, Rich asked �What
instrument do you play?�

�None.� Off Rich�s
surprised look, Sam explained. �Because I enrolled late, this was the only free
elective left.�

***

�You can�t enrol in this class if you can�t play an instrument!�

Sam gnawed his back teeth. He was having a really bad day today. Dean had always told him to keep a low
profile, but now he had not only one, but two
teachers sniffing around him � one of which was causing a big scene in the
middle of the class. Dean would not be pleased.�

Ever polite, Sam responded courteously. �I understand that M�am. But the school enrolled me in this class
automatically because this was the only one with a free spot.�

�Why?� the music teacher sneered. �Too good to
enrol when everyone else did?�

Out of the corner of the eye, Sam saw Rich flush angrily. The sight
made Sam feel warm inside. He never had anyone, apart from Dean, who would be
indignant on his behalf.

�I just moved here Mrs Parker� Sam explained.

Mrs Parker smiled nastily. �Talking back Mr Winchester? Detention. Now take your seat.�

Seething at the injustice, Sam sat down next to Rich, nodding at
Rich�s smile of reassurance and smiling slightly himself as Rich called Mrs
Parker a few choice words under his breath.

Mrs Parker turned to face the class. �Today we continue our study of
Classical composers. I�m sure you all heard of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart... well
maybe not Winchester.� Mrs Parker turned to smirk at a flushing Sam.

The teacher waited until the class� sniggering had subsided before
continuing �Before we begin our analysis of his life and works, I want you to
listen to Mozart�s �Twinkle Twinkle Little Star Variations� and spot how each
section varies from the original melody.�

As the familiar children�s song filtered through the CD speakers,
something tickled in Sam�s subconscious. He frowned, trying to place it.

Noticing his friend�s troubled look, Rich whispered �You okay?�

Sam nodded absentmindedly, not even noticing that Rich was still
looking at him in concern.

Dean�s voice suddenly rose unbidden in Sam�s mind. Sammy, go to your room. When
you get there, cover your ears and sing �Twinkle Twinkle Little Star� as loud
as you can. Don�t stop until I come get you.

Startled, Sam jumped up, knocking his seat over in his wild dash to
the door and drawing the attention of the entire class.

***

TWINKLE TWINKLE
LITTLE STAR

�I love my brother.�

HOW I WONDER WHAT YOU ARE

�Loving your brother is
natural Dean. But you can�t love him in that way.�

UP ABOVE THE WORLD SO HIGH

�Love is love. Doesn�t
matter what way I love him. I won�t let you take Sammy away from me. I won�t
go to some nut house.�

LIKE A DIAMOND IN THE SKY

�You�ll kill your own
father?�

TWINKLE TWINKLE
LITTLE STAR

�I don�t need you. I can
look after Sammy just fine without you.�

***

�Sam?�

His stomach plummeted and he found it hard to draw air into his
lungs. At the corner of the bathroom sat Sam. His arms wrapped around his bent
legs, Sam rocked back and forth, not even acknowledging Rich�s presence.

Rich froze, scared. Not knowing what to do, not even understanding
what had gotten Sam to his current catatonic state (should he call the nurse?),
Rich approached Sam slowly, crouching on the floor with him. Hoping he wasn�t
about to do more harm than good, Rich pulled Sam towards him, wrapping his arms
around the violently shaking boy and rubbing soothing circles on his back.
��
After several long moments, Sam finally spoke. Rich strained to hear
his wavering voice. �I was singing that song when my dad died. But I never really
remembered the words in between, the fight.�

Rich didn�t really understand what Sam was saying but was immensely
relieved that the worst seemed to be over. Leaving Sam on the ground, he went
to the basin, taking his handkerchief (he was suddenly glad his mother made him
carry one around even though he never used it) out of his pocket and soaking it
in warm water.

Wringing out the excess water, he returned to Sam, squatting down to
Sam�s level before wiping the handkerchief over Sam�s cheeks. In that moment,
Sam looked incredibly young and incredibly sexy.
Captivated, Rich reached up to cup Sam�s cheek, moving his mouth towards Sam�s�

Sam suddenly pulled away like a frightened animal. He pushed Rich
aside to stumble out of the cubicle. �T-thanks for the help
Rich. I b-better go apologise to Mrs Pa-Parker for r-running out.� His
voice was unusually high pitched.

As Sam fled the room, Rich couldn�t help but lament the loss of the
perfect moment.

***

His brother was angry. Not an �Oops-I-stubbed-my-toe� sort of angry
but an �I-am-so-pissed-you-better-not-cross-me� kind of angry. All throughout
the fifteen minute drive home, Dean had refused to look at him or even to talk
to him. Bewildered, Sam searched his mind, trying to work out whether he had
done anything to anger his older brother.

It wasn�t until they had returned to the apartment, and Dean had led
Sam back to his bedroom that Dean finally spoke. �Got a call
today. A bitch named Parker. She said you ran out of class?�

�I-I was feeling sick,� Sam lied. It wouldn�t improve his brother�s
mood to tell him what really caused
Sam to bolt from the music room.

�And when you�re feeling sick, what have I told you that you�re
supposed to do?�

�C-call you,� Sam whispered.

�And did you do that?�

Sam shook his head.

�And yet you seem perfectly healthy right now Sammy,� Dean remarked,
�so either you�ve got super healing powers that you haven�t told me about� or
you�re lying to me.�

�I-I�m sorry Dean. I caused a scene when you told me to just keep my
head down.�

The line of Dean�s mouth straightened to seriousness. �That doesn�t
answer my question.� He took Sam�s arm and firmly pushed him inside the closet
and closed the door, locking it from the outside.

Sam had barely been in there for a minute before he was screaming.
He hated the dark. �Dean! Please
don�t leave me in here! I�m sorry!�
�
He was answered by the sound of the front door closing.

Sam closed his eyes. The walls
aren�t closing in on me. The walls aren�t closing in on me.

***

By the time Dean let him out of the closet, his voice had turned
hoarse and his pleading cries had quieted. Sam�s nose smelt the blood coating
Dean before his eyes registered the gruesome sight.

Noticing his brother eyeing his bloodied clothes apprehensively,
Dean shrugged. �Took care of that Parker bitch. She
won�t bother you anymore.�

Sam blanched, staggering backwards a few steps before finding
himself enveloped in a bloodied hug. Too overcome to care, he leaned against
his brother, crying uncontrollably.

When Sam�s tears died away, Dean released his brother from his hold,
docilely allowing Dean to lead him towards his bed. He lay back as Dean
shackled his right ankle and gave him his daily shot. As the warmth spread
through his system, Dean stroked through Sam�s hair. The repetitive motions
were soothing, and it was with that comfort that Sam eventually succumbed to
the drugs.

TBC

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The Hero of His Own Story