Guilt, Supernatural, R-ish, Broken!Verse

[phantisma]

Fandom: Supernatural
Title: Guilt
Characters/Pairings: Sam/Dean, John, Ellen, Bobby, OMC
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: 3504

Summary: A sequel to Anything which was a Christmas request from nanakomatsu, Nothing, Something, To Be Good, Broken, To Be Strong,Nothing, No One, Alone, Yours, Mine, Better, Choice, Gathering, Betrayal, Taken, Remember, Training, Conflagration, Setting Up, Surviving, Pretending, Rescue, Revelations, Reconciliation and Waking Up.

Summary: John and Sam circle around the subject of Sam and Dean, until John bails on the subject, leaving Sam to fend for himself...until Bobby reaches out to help. And all our Winchesters wallow in their own guilt.

A/Ns and Warnings: Very dark. Includes memory of torture and rape and very dark violence.



Dean managed to get as far as the front porch. He didn’t know where he was going, only that he had to get out of that room, away from Sam. He didn’t know how to help him. His every touch, every word seemed to just bring him more pain, more anguish.

He sat down heavily on the step and stared out into the trees. He didn’t know where they were or how far it was from anywhere. Part of him wanted to run, to leave…to let Sam be better without needing to worry about him.

The door behind him opened and Ellen came out, jingling keys. She stopped when she saw him. “You okay, Dean?”

He shrugged and looked up at her. “Going somewhere?”

“Into town. Gotta get some food in this place before all you boys starve.”

“Could I…come with you?”

She frowned at him a little as she came down the steps. “You think you’re ready for that?”

“I can stay in the car. I just…can’t be here right now.”

She stared at him for a minute then nodded. “Yeah, okay. Hey Gabe!” she called out. “I’m taking Dean with me. Let John know?”

“Sure.” Gabe called from the door and Dean got to his feet. He took a deep breath and tried to dress himself in the image of the old Dean…confident, strong…he didn’t quite pull it off, but Ellen smiled and he thought that maybe it was enough.



Sam couldn’t bring himself to move when the door opened. He knew he should…should be on his knees…should…his eyes opened slowly and for a spilt second he thought it was Dean come for him…but as the feet came closer he knew that Dean wasn’t coming. He was nothing, no one, alone…“My poor baby,” a voice whispered. Hands ghosted down over his arm, down to the round curve of his ass. “I wish there were some other way.”

It was intimate, familiar…gentle and terrifying…”I want to help you. I want to take care of you.” His hands stroked over Sam’s chest, up to his face. “Why are you fighting so hard? Don’t you want it to be over?”

Robert. He was squatting in front of Sam, tracing softly over muscle and bruises…gently, whispering words that Sam couldn’t quite make sense of…touching him…owning him…reminding him what he was.

“Please.” Sam whispered, “Please Robert…”

His kiss was soft, he tasted like beer and pretzels, and Sam’s body responded. He moaned as Robert caressed him, lips and fingers and—“

Sam sat up, sweating, his head spinning. No. No. He was rock hard and ready to vomit. He leaned over the edge of the bed as it rolled through him, but there was nothing in his stomach to throw up and he just heaved until the feeling passed.

He shivered, pulling the blanket up higher over him and trying to calm his breathing. “Dean?” Someone had always been in the room when he woke…but he was alone now. Alone.

He took a deep breath and tried to shake the feeling. He wasn’t alone. They were here, the people who loved him. The ones who knew. Who saw. He swallowed. Caleb. He saw it all. He knew that Sam had opened his mouth, opened his ass…said those things…that he gave himself up, surrendered…

The door opened and Sam looked up. His father came in, looking freshly showered. It reminded Sam he hadn’t had a shower since…he closed his eyes, since that morning…with Dean.

“How you feeling?” John asked.

Sam blinked away tears. “Shaky.”

John nodded. “That’s the drugs. It’ll pass.” He came to the end of the bed. “Are you in pain?”

Sam shook his head. “Not really.” His leg hurt, but it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. “My back itches.”

John sort of smiled. “The cuts are healing. Want me to take a look?”

Sam shook his head. The thought of letting anyone see him just terrified him. “No…I’m fine.”

“Are you?” John’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t come closer, didn’t move, but Sam suddenly felt he was too close. He shifted a little, trying to create space. “You don’t look fine.”

“What do you want from me?” Sam said, looking away. “I mean…of course I’m not fine, Dad. I was raped. Over and over again…by more men than I could keep count of…and apparently everyone got to watch.” He bit his lip and breathed heavily, trying to control the panic. “Fuck! Its bad enough that they know…but they saw! They fucking saw!”

He hit his head against the wall behind him and forced himself to calm down. His stomach was churning again and his head was pounding. He looked up to find his father staring at him, stricken. “You…didn’t know.” Sam felt the tears and looked away.

“Dean…he said they wouldn’t…that the first days…that you’d be…” John looked like he’d been punched in the gut.

“Yeah well…we sort of pushed ma—James’s hand.” Sam said quietly. “He changed things…” He had figured his father knew everything…and now he was responsible for hurting him, for letting him know that he didn’t get there in time after all.

“Caleb didn’t…he should have…” John turned away. He stopped at the window and turned back. “What did you mean ‘they saw’? They who?”

Sam squirmed and shook his head. “Isn’t important.”

“Tell me Sam.”

Sam didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to be responsible for his father learning that his friends had kept this from him…”Dean…said…there was a camera…that…” His voice trailed off as John nodded slowly.

“They hacked the security feed.” John wiped his face. “I didn’t ask…they didn’t say…” He looked up at Sam. “I-I thought we found you…before…I’m sorry…Sam…I’m so sorry.”

Sam looked away. His father’s grief was too much…pressing in on him, and he felt guilty for causing it…for yet another secret ripped out into the open and left jagged and unguarded to cut into him. “I’m sorry too.” Sam said. “I know I must disappoint you. I’m not strong like Dean. I-I couldn’t hold on….I couldn’t…” He covered his face with his hands and let the tears come. “I needed him so much…”

John’s hands were on his, pulling them away, tilting his face up. “I am proud of you Sam. You have no idea how proud.” Sam quivered at the touch, but didn’t pull away. “I was proud of you before I knew. Now? I’m in awe of how strong you are son.”

Sam shook his head. He knew he wasn’t strong. He knew this was all because of him, his weakness, his need for Dean…it all came from that. “If I’d been stronger this wouldn’t have happened. It’s my fault, Dad…all my fault…”

John shushed him, his big thumb brushing over Sam’s teary cheeks. “No, Sam. It isn’t your fault. You can’t blame yourself.”

“You don’t understand!” Sam pulled back, pulled away. “If I’d…If Robert hadn’t seen…me…me and Dean…” He was shaking. If he could he’d be pacing. “He wouldn’t have…blamed Dean…he wouldn’t have…”

“Sam, we should save this for when you’re—“

“No. No. You have to know. It wasn’t Dean’s fault. It was me. I wanted it. I did it…he fought it…he…” Sam closed his eyes, remembering how Dean tried to talk them out of it, even though it was so clear he wanted it too. “You have to understand, Dad…I love him…I loved him so much…I needed him…Just…don’t blame him…okay?”

John was quiet for a long time, and when Sam looked up, John was facing away from him, his body tight, sobbing. “Dad?” He reached out to touch his father’s back and he started, standing suddenly.

“I—can’t do this Sam. I thought I could. I thought I could handle…but I can’t.” He moved to the door. “I’m sorry. I’m going to get some air.”


“There’s coffee.” Gabe said without looking up as John appeared in the kitchen. He was nearly into the first of the encrypted files.

“Have you slept?”

He shook his head. “Almost in.”

John skipped the coffee and grabbed the bottle of scotch Ellen had left on the counter. “You should sleep. I’m going for a walk.”

Gabe looked up just as the screen door shut. “Sleep comes later,” he muttered, turning his attention back to the computer. He swallowed cold coffee with a grimace. Sleeping would lead to dreams anyway…and Gabe had already had enough of those. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Sam on his knees.

He shook his head and frowned at the computer. Almost…but not quite.


Bobby heard John leave Sam’s room, heard the pain in his voice, but it wasn’t until he heard the heavy thud that he opened his door. Sam leaned on the door to his room, looking up and down the hallway. He spotted Bobby and dropped his gaze.

“I—need to pee.” Sam said softly.

Bobby nodded. “I’ll take you.”

Sam shook his head. “I can…just…where?”

“Second door across the hall.” He stepped out into the hallway while Sam sized up the distance. “Doc says you shouldn’t walk on it.”

“If someone got me some crutches I wouldn’t have to.” Sam snapped.

“I don’t think your father’s thought of that.”

Sam looked at him, holding the wall. “Yeah. There’s a lot of stuff he doesn’t think about.” Sam teetered in the middle of the hall as he limped away from the wall.

“Let me help you, Sam.”

“I can do it!” Sam snapped as he leaned into the wall. He hung his head. “I’m sorry, Bobby. I don’t mean…”

Bobby nodded, though Sam couldn’t see him. “I know.” He took a deep breath. “If you want, I could see if I can find a garbage bag to cover your cast, you know? So you can get cleaned up.”

Sam looked at him over his shoulder. “I think I’d like that, Bobby. Thanks.” Somehow it was easier with Bobby…though Sam didn’t want to think about why. He just worked at getting into the bathroom. He should let someone help him, but he felt so helpless about so much…this was something he would do for himself.

By the time he was in front of the toilet, he was sweating, and the pain radiating up from his leg made him woozy. He tried to ignore it. Tried to just pee without thinking about Thomas and the bucket…or Dean and the quiet desperation that Sam just relieve himself.

He was shaking when he reached to flush the toilet and he started when there was a knock on the door. “Sam, I found a bag.”

“Its okay, Bobby, you can come in.” Sam lowered the seat and lid and swiveled around to sit on the toilet as Bobby came in, a big black garbage bag in one hand, and a roll of duct tape in the other. He smiled and Sam relaxed a little.

“Let’s see if we can’t fix this up.”

Bobby knelt on the floor in front of him and opened the garbage bag, lifting Sam’s injured leg and sliding the plastic up and over him. It came just above the cast and it only took him a few minutes to tape it up so that it was closed tight against Sam’s skin. “I called Ellen, she’s headed in to town to pick up some things…asked her to check for crutches or a cane or something.”

“Thanks.” Sam winced a little as a sharp pain shot up through his leg.

“Okay, that should do you. You okay to stand in the shower?”

Sam looked at the tub, then back at Bobby. “I…honestly, I don’t know.”

Bobby nodded, regarding Sam for a minute before he stood. “Wait here a minute.” He left the bathroom and came back with a couple of towels. He handed one to Sam. “I’ll tell you what. I’m going to turn my back. You get out of the boxers and t-shirt and wrap up in that. I’ll help you into the shower, and once you’re in, you can hand me the towel. I’ll come back in a few minutes and hand you a new one, and help you out, okay?”

Sam nodded, amazed a little that Bobby understood. He was, maybe, the only person there who hadn’t seen Sam at his weakest…at the point of his lowest moment. Bobby turned around and started the water while Sam wiggled out of his boxers and shirt, then pulled himself to standing, wrapping the towel around him. “Okay.” Bobby turned, keeping his eyes as averted as he could, supporting Sam up and into the tub.

When Sam had found his footing and the curtain was closed, he handed out the towel. “I’ll be in the hall, Sam. Just call.”

The water felt good, hot and clean and Sam stood under it for a long time, just letting it flow over him. Bobby was a good man. It still boggled his mind that Bobby had known about him and Dean…all these years, and he never said anything.

Sam shook his head under the water, holding the wall with one hand while he pulled the other through his wet hair. It really showed the differences between Bobby and his father. His good leg was tired from holding him. He turned off the water and called for Bobby.

A few minutes later, Bobby was helping him back into bed. “Thank you…Bobby. I don’t know how…to begin to thank you.”

Bobby smiled, but it was strained. “You get better. That’s all I need. I love you boys like…” His voice trailed off and he looked away. “I’ll see about getting you something to eat.”

Sam made face, but it was lost behind a yawn. “Not hungry…later…sleep.”

Bobby nodded and tucked the blankets up around him. “I’ll check in later.”

Sam nodded, but he was already nearly asleep. Bobby pressed a kiss to his forehead and left him to sleep.


“You’re an ass.” Bobby said unceremoniously as he found John an hour later.

John raised the nearly empty bottle in salute. “Yes, I am.”

“A drunk ass.” Bobby amended as he sat down beside him on the fallen log.

“That too.” John tipped the bottle up, emptying the last of it into his mouth.

“Your sons need you, and you’re out here feeling sorry for yourself.”

“They don’t need me.” John said, dropping the bottle to the mossy ground. “That much is becoming obvious.”

“Bull shit.”

“Excuse me?”

Bobby sighed and crossed his arms. “You’re their Daddy. They need you.”

John snorted and lurched to his feet. “No offense, Bobby, but it isn’t any of your goddamn business.”

“Yes, it is my business. You made it my business, every time you dumped them on my doorstep, every time you abandoned them with me so you could chase the damn demon.”

John turned. “Don’t even try to paint yourself as the better father…not after it was your son—“

Bobby stood. “Oh no you don’t, John Winchester. I know what my son was. I know. And I wasn’t the world’s best father…but damn it John…Sam is falling apart in there. He needs his father to understand…to love him and hold him. He needs you to forgive him.”

“Forgive?” John chuckled and stumbled a little ways away. “Forgive him? For what? Fucking his brother?”

“That would be a good start.” Bobby said. “Look…I realize it came as a surprise. I realize that it isn’t something you want to know. But it is what it is. Those two boys…they love each other like nothing I’ve ever seen, John.”

John stared at him. “You knew.” It wasn’t a question. John’s face burned red. “You never said anything.”

Bobby rolled his eyes. “Would you have believed me? You see what you want to see John. Open your fucking eyes and see what’s really going on around you.”

“That’s rich, coming from you.”

“Yeah, I know. But my boy’s dead, John. There ain’t nothing I can do to fix it. Your boys are still alive. And they need their daddy. Sober up and get your ass back to the cabin before Ellen gets back. She won’t be as soft on you.”


The town was small, a couple of bars, a post office, grocery store. Ellen had been in the grocery store for almost a half hour. Dean sat on the trunk of the car, watching some kids play in the park in the town square. He closed his eyes and savored the feeling of the sun on his skin. Some part of him still wanted to run, to leave Sam to heal.

The open air wasn’t as distressful as it had been once. It reminded him of before…of the times when he and Sam had waited in some small town while their dad hunted…pretending to be normal…sitting outside of schools waiting for Sammy to come out so they could go home. Sam would smile as their eyes met and Dean would melt inside…because Sam was everything…and nothing mattered as long as Sam was there.

“You ready?” Ellen asked as she stopped beside the car. He looked at her and nodded slowly.

“I guess.”

“We could stay a bit, if you needed to.”

He shook his head. “I need to be sure Sam’s okay.” More than the need to run, he needed Sam.

She nodded. “Help me load this stuff up?”

He slid off the car and helped load the bags of groceries into the car. Now that he’d been away, he was anxious to get back.

Ellen’s presence was soothing, and he wondered idly why he’d never met her before now. It was obvious she and his father were close. He could see it in how they looked at one another, how they touched.

Dean shifted uncomfortably as they pulled out onto the road. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course, honey.”

“Sam…I heard Gabe say…you saw. You saw him…in the cage.”

She nodded slowly. “Yes, I’m afraid I did.”

Dean licked his lips. “And…Robert? You saw…when…he was there?”

“Dean…what happened in that cage…it wasn’t…it was awful and Sam and Caleb are going to carry it with them for a long time.”

“Did Robert…hurt him?” Dean looked out the window. It would be easier if had…but the sounds Sam made when he was dreaming didn’t sound like hurt.

“Robert is gone, Dean. He’s dead. You don’t need to worry about it.”

“I know…I just…I should have…you know, done it. Shouldn’t have let Sam.”

“You Winchester boys and your blame. Can’t a one of you stand to not feel guilty, can you?”

Dean was quiet then, withdrawing into himself. It wasn’t Sam’s fault…and Dean would find a way to take care of him…even if Sam couldn’t stand for him to be in the same room…even if Dean couldn’t touch him…even if Dean knew that he shouldn’t want to touch him. “I keep hurting him.” Dean said quietly just as they pulled in to the cabin.

She looked at him, reaching out to stroke his cheek. “No, honey…he’s hurt plenty, but it isn’t you that’s hurting him. It’s you he needs…you and your daddy.”

“You think so?” Dean asked almost breathlessly.

“Tell you what? Help me take this stuff inside and I’ll make you some lunch. You can take it up to Sam.”

“I’d like that. He really needs to eat.”



“Sam?” Dean pushed open the door and moved to set the tray on the table near the window. Sam stirred on the bed, opening one eye then both. “I brought some lunch.”

Sam grimaced and turned a little. “Not hungry.”

Dean came to the bed, but didn’t touch. “Sam, please…you need to eat. It’s been days.”

“Not hungry.” Sam said again and Dean stomped his foot on the floor.

“Damn it Sam! I said eat.” Dean said with a fierceness he hadn’t intended.

Sam sat up, looking up at him. “Eat or I’ll go get Ellen and she’ll make you eat.” Dean said. “Just a little, okay?” He brought the bowl of soup to the bed. “For me?”

Sam nodded slowly, taking the bowl. Dean was careful not to let them touch as he passed the bowl. “Stay with me?” Sam asked as Dean went to the door.

Dean closed his eyes. “Sam…”

“It’s okay…I don’t mean…just…be with me. I don’t like it alone.”

Nothing. No one. Alone.

It hung in the air between them. “Please Dean?”

Dean sighed and let his forehead rest against the door for a moment. “If I stay, will you eat it?”

Sam’s voice was small as he said “I’ll try.”

Dean turned back to look at him, trying to look stern. “You eat it all, and I’ll stay until it’s gone.”

Sam lifted the spoon to his mouth. “Just stay…anything if you’ll just stay.”

He nodded and moved back to the side of the bed, pulling the chair out of the corner to sit on while Sam ate. This is what big brothers do…they take care of their baby brothers. He just had to remember how. How to be a big brother…