Retribution

Small town bullies pick on a certain young Winchester with devastating consequences.

Warning: Brain injury, swearing, suggestive content, implied rape, violence, hate crime and implied incest (not the Winchesters!).

Very dark fic, but NOT graphic.

Proceed with caution.

Sort of spoilers for Faith, Season 1.

Dean 20, Sam 16.

Severely Hurt Traumatised Sam/Angry Protective Shocked Dean

Angry Papa Bear John and Bobby Singer.

Brain injured Sam, but it gets better...

No offence is meant by this story.

It is just that: a story and work of fiction.

There is a happy ending with this one, I promise.

Many special thanks go out to Anita Sanderson for the beta work, and to Phx and Devon99 for the encouragement.

Chapter 1

"Hey pretty boy!"

Sam sighed but kept going. He hated this town. The people were sullen, often downright hostile, and Sam was pretty certain only a few of the population had ever been properly introduced to a bathtub.

Or, ya know, soap would be progress.

"C'mon baby boy. Just one kiss from those pretty, pretty lips!" the voice mocked and jeered.

Feeling nauseous, Sam picked up the pace as subtly as he dared. He had learned on his first day in town not to draw attention to himself, but given that his hand-me-down clothes were actually clean, that was a damn near impossible task.

Just get back to Dean. Don't look at them. Don't respond. Just get back to Dean.

And quickly!

Dean was already threatening to string Sam up by his own testicles. A hungry big brother meant trouble, and Sam wasn't in the mood for childish pranks, or worse. But a hungry big brother whose little brother had accidentally dropped his aftershave all over the bathroom floor… a hungry big brother, who was due to leave for a date with the hottest barmaid in town later on tonight…

Sam ignored the taunts from the local wildlife as best he could and concentrated on getting Dean's consolatory bacon double cheese burger back to their motel room before the grease congealed. Sam had already lost the last wrestling match and suffered Dean's feared and respected 'Winchester Wedgy'. He hated to think what would happen if the burger showed up stone cold, even if it was only meant to be a peace offering. Once he'd been able to walk again, Sam had slipped out the motel room unnoticed, while Dean was busy combing his hair back in place after their tussle on the bedroom floor.

"Here kitty, kitty, kitty..."

Jesus! Why the hell did Dad have to leave us here, of all places?

"Meeeoooowwwww!"

"I got somethin' I know you wanna lick!"

Sam rolled his eyes in disgust. Oh for God's sake!

He swung the bag of take out food gently in his grip and ignored the further shouts of abuse from behind. Instead, he sped up slightly, widening his pace and putting as much distance between him and those assholes as possible.

But if he'd known what was coming, Sam would've run like hell.

"Hey! We're talkin' to ya, kid!"

"Aw, c'mon sweetheart, don't run away. We just wanna spend some time with ya!"

The sudden roar of an engine bursting to life made Sam flinch. But before he could even blink, a rusted old blue pickup truck leapt passed him, screeched to a halt blocking his path, and his tormenters jumped out.

Sam desperately searched for a way out of this that wouldn't involve violence, but to his distress there was nowhere to go. When brickwork pressed against his back, Sam wished, not for the first time, that he had special super powers. Like the ability to walk through walls, or superior strength to knock the damn thing down.

Guess I'm just gonna have to do this the old fashioned way, he thought, eyes narrowed, assessing the enemy and weighing up his chances. Not bad. They're bigger than me, but drunk and clumsy. I can use that to my advantage.

But Sam wasn't beyond giving the reasonable approach one last fighting chance.

"Look, guys, I just wanna get home." Get them on side. Work on their sympathies. Sam brought out the puppy dog eyes. "My brother's waiting for his dinner and he'll kick my ass if I don't get it to him while it's still hot."

Obviously, sympathy wasn't in their repertoire.

"Brother, huh?" the tallest guy, and incidentally the widest, took a long swig from a beer can, belched loudly, then flung it away. The tin can, unnoticed by all except Sam, rattled loudly against hard concrete and rolled into the road. "You mean that pretty boy faggot who cheated us at poker the other night?"

Sam's eyes widened slightly. Uh oh. They know Dean?

This looked like real trouble.

"Aw, ain't he really your boyfriend, lover boy?" whined out the middle guy with a long, thin face and what appeared to be enough nostril hair to knit a cardigan. A flash of something in his hand made Sam's heart thump with fear.

Brass knuckledusters?

Oh yeah, these guys were real heroes.

"No, he's my brother." Sam couldn't help himself, raised his chin and added defiantly "and he doesn't need to cheat."

"Woohoohoo!" the third guy chanted. "That's fightin' talk right there!"

This one was the size and shape of a sumo wrestler, underarms damp with sweat, and breath that could kill a shire horse. Even from where he stood, Sam could smell the combination of grungy odours with little difficulty, and it made his gut churn.

Guy number two, the one with all the nose hair, didn't look nearly so amused.

"Let's take him somewhere special." He scowled at Sam and sneered. "Show faggot boy's brother a good time."

Sam immediately dropped into fighting stance, but his opponents were faster and more agile than he'd given them credit for. Within seconds, they had him surrounded, and Sam was at bay in a ring of beer-swilling, muscle-bound anger when the first punch was thrown. He managed to duck and get in a few blows of his own before they really set on him, like a pack of wild-dogs.

The empty tin can was just out of reach when Sam went down, wishing like hell he could have been closer, could've used it as a weapon. In any case, he lasted a full five minutes before several pounds of brass smashed into the side of his head one too many times, and the world went black.

Julie, a small, brown haired waitress, was returning from her much needed cigarette break. She hurried reluctantly towards the rest of her long shift at the local diner, and looked up just in time to see an unconscious teenager being dragged into her cousin's pickup.

That in itself wasn't uncommon, not round here at any rate. Her cousin, Jed, and his cronies had ruled and terrorised this town since they left high school, and fresh meat was always appreciated. But…

…she knew that kid, the tall, lanky boy with the nice eyes and kind smile. She'd served him the bacon double cheeseburger just a few minutes ago.

The truck drove off, fishtailing along the road, horn honking loudly.

The waitress bit her lip bloody with anguish.

"Julie! Get you're ass in here, now! You're late! Again!"

Her head whipped round to find her boss, Arn, leaning out the diner window. His mouth was one thin, angry line, and it told Julie this shift would be painful in more ways than one. He gestured impatiently, then wiped a filthy hand down his even dirtier apron.

"Move it, girly!"

"S-sorry sir…" she whimpered, timidly.

"Don't you sorry me!" he barked out. "One more time and that's it! You're outta here!"

Julie scurried inside and yelped in pain when her boss's hand connected sharply with the side of her face.

"And don't you say nothin' 'bout what you just saw," the man hissed, little piggy eyes nervously darting to and fro as he watched the now empty street. "We don't need that kinda trouble."

Julie nodded frantically in agreement. Nobody crossed her cousin. Not even the town sheriff, who just happened to be his Dad, Julie's Uncle. Well, biologically, he was also her Dad, and Jed was her half-brother. But no one was allowed to talk about it. In fact, everyone was related to everyone else in some way, shape or form.

It was confusing enough to the locals, but no one even tried to explain it to outsiders.

Julie sighed and grabbed up a dishtowel. She wasn't the sharpest knife in the kitchen, but she knew when things were wrong, and she was pretty certain this whole town was wrong.

One day, she vowed, she would leave and start a new life, maybe get married to a nice guy, preferably one she wasn't related to, have a bunch of kids…

The back of Arn's hand caught her across the face again, and it was all she could do not to retaliate with a knee to his groin. That would've earned her a proper beating.

"Quit ya damn daydreaming and get those salt-shakers filled!" he snarled.

"Y-yeah sir!" she backed away, clutching her poor face.

Dean checked his watch again, his frustration completely given way to fear.

"C'mon, Sammy, where are you?" he whispered, and tapped the steering wheel, eyes scanning the sidewalk for his mop-headed little brother.

He'd heard the snick of the motel room door three hours ago, and assumed Sam had gone off in a sulk. Kid had a liking for the chocolate fudge ice cream at the local diner, and this was Dean's third visit to the place during the time he'd been missing. But no one had even seen the boy. Or so they claimed. And yeah, Dean felt bad for yelling at him, but the aftershave had been an expensive birthday gift from Dad last year. Dean used it sparingly and only for extra special dates with extra hot girls. But now it was all gone. The entire contents of the bottle wasted on the bathroom carpet.

Still, Dean thought absently, at least it smells nice in there, now.

Exiting the car, he resolved to try the diner one last time.

A small, timid looking waitress with a messy brown pony tail and smudged makeup pounced on him the very second he walked through the door, and tried to seat him in a cubicle with some sour smelling coffee.

Dean didn't have time for this, could feel a nagging sensation in his gut warning him that Sam was in real trouble. But still. He hadn't seen this waitress before. Maybe she knew something.

There was only one way to find out.

"Excuse me…" Dean spotted her name tag and gently touched her shoulder. "Julie? Have you seen my kid brother? He's tall, longish dark brown hair…"

The waitress paused but wouldn't raise her head, kept avoiding eye contact, instantly putting Dean on the alert. She chewed furiously on her bottom lip, which already looked worse for wear. Her hands, busy wiping down one of the plastic diner tables were shaking. Badly.

Oh yeah. She knew something, alright.

He brought out a colour photo of Sam from his wallet, slapped on the famous Dean Winchester charm, mixed up with some big brotherly concern, and hoped like hell she'd bite.

"He would've been here around two or three hours ago?" he asked, hopefully, keeping his body language non-threatening.

The tiny young woman nodded and glanced all around as though checking to see who was watching.

Dean's eyes narrowed when he saw the fresh bruise on her cheek.

So someone likes to get a little too physical with their staff, huh?

"Uh, yeah, I know him," said Julie, in what she probably thought was a whisper, but the big guy in the dirty apron standing at the counter must have heard, because he grunted and scowled at her. Dean sure didn't like the look that crossed the man's face.

Julie continued on, oblivious. "He was in here a few hours ago asking for a bacon double cheese burger with extra onions."

That must've been for me. Aw, Sammy…

Heart warming with love for the kid, Dean nodded. "Did you see which way he went?"

Julie turned and stared up at him, fearfully. "I saw alright. I saw my cousin Jed and his two buddies pick a fight with him. Kid didn't stand a chance against them. When those guys get mean, no one messes with 'em."

Dean's nostrils flared. There were a whole bevy of emotions banging on the doors of his limited patience but now wasn't the time.

"Where did they take him?" he whispered, hoarsely.

Julie did that quick glance over her shoulder business again, and Dean just wanted to shake the girl 'til her teeth rattled.

"Probably took him up to an abandoned barn on the far side of town," Julie replied, sadly. "That's where they take their… friends…" she lowered her voice a little more "…so that no one can hear them scream."

Dean grabbed her arm and began dragging her out the diner and towards the Impala.

"And you're gonna show me where!"

Julie didn't even try to protest. She'd seen the look on his face and sensed that this guy could be scarier than her cousin if he wanted. And judging by the angry noises coming from her boss, Julie figured going rather than staying was a safer bet.

Indeed, Arn was lumbering across the diner, shouting obscenities and brandishing a carving knife, just as Julie was hustled into the passenger seat of a sleek, black car.

Another sneak peek at her would-be kidnapper's face, and a part of her actually felt sorry for her cousin Jed, but only a really small, no... tiny part.

Author's notes:

Please forgive any errors in medical knowledge. I nearly always sacrifice facts for drama because it's so much more fun!

Just in case you were worried, this is NOT a deathfic and it does have a happy ending of sorts, depending on how you look at it with respect to later seasons.

This story is actually complete, with only 5 chapters in all. But if you find it too boring, please just say and I won't torture you with it any longer.

Kind regards,

ST x