Abuse leaves scars, mental and physical, on the victim's body that sometimes never heal. Sam was being abuse by his father, John, and neglected by his big brother, Dean. Sam had been given his first beating when he was nine years old by his drunken dad. However, the mental torture had begun since he was two. He had been beaten and sexually assaulted by his father all while his brother watched.

Sam had given everything to try to make his family love him or at least see he was not worthless as they say. Sam had tried hunting, John and Dean's favorite activity and they even called it the family business , even though he had hated the sport. He had tried academics, one of the things that made him feel not completely useless, and was scolded by John for spending his time on something other than pleasuring him. No matter what he tried to gain his father's love, he was always stuck in Dean's shadow. Dean was John's perfect little soldier. Dean followed every order given to him and was quick to it. There was once a time where Sam had seen Dean as his hero. He had thought the indifference in Dean's eyes were from trying to hide his sadness while Sam gotten roughened up. However, his idolization of him quickly deflated when he realized his big brother, his supposed hero had never cared.

When Sam had turned six teen, he had turned to drugs to numb to pain he felt. His brother had joined on the sexual abuse and, after one drunken night, the sexual abuse turned into rape. The night Sam had turned to drugs was the night his heart was broken by his big brother. Dean had told him it was Sam's fault their mother had died the night of the house fire and that she had died trying to save Sam's sorry excuse for a life. John and Dean never spoke about his mom and he had figured his mother left them, thus, why his father was always angry. That night Sam had injected the needle in his arm and relished in the numbness that chased his nightmares away.

Their neighbors, an elderly couple, had become alarmed when the heard distant yells from the house next door. The petty lady, Jamie, had decided to investigate and what she found could not have been more disturbing. There laid a tall, brown haired, bruised, boy who could not be more than seven teen and two men stood tall with blood around their fist. Jamie hid till they had left the boy shivering in the night's cold air. The lady dragged the boy into her house and tended to his wounds.

The next month had been hectic for Sam. That night Jamie had called 911 to arrest John and Dean with the following days being occupied by trials to sentence them to prison. He had been stripped of his drugs and now he was free without any relapse. Sam was now Jamie's adopted son since they would have thrown him into an orphanage otherwise. Sam was enjoying his life free of the abuse that griped him into fear, but he did not make it out without a few scars.