Chapter Text
“Hey you! Bitch face!”
“Fuck!” Sam muttered. Not this again.
He could hear how the same group of guys as always cached up on him. Sam started to walk faster, hoping that they would not do this again. That for once he could walk home alone.
Sam hated Tuesdays. Dean’s last class didn’t end until 4.30, which meant that Sam had to walk home. Alone. Because he was not old enough to drive a car (And if he would have been Dean wouldn’t have let him drive the Impala).
He wished Lucifer didn’t live on the other side of town. Then they could have walked together and Sam maybe wouldn’t have had to live through this every Tuesday. Maybe if he just told him he would go with Sam anyway…
But he hadn’t told Lucifer. He hadn’t told anyone.
He was scared that if he did, they would leave him. Because he never did anything. He just let them follow him almost home screaming at him, calling him names. Because he was so weak. And he didn’t want to lose anyone. Especially not Lucifer. But he would never tell him that either.
***
It had started about two months ago when he accidentally walked in to Alastair, one of the football players, who went his last year of High School. Alastair was about 6.2 feet and really strong.
Sam on the other hand was a freshman. He was short, skinny and not very muscular at all.
“Sorry.” He’d said and continued walking. But Alastair had for some reason seen very badly at what Sam had done.
“What did you say little dwarf?” he’d asked. Something that had made his three friends laugh.
“I’m sorry!” Sam had said again, he was getting a little worried and started to walk a little faster.
“It’s I’m sorry, sir.” Alastair had said and grabbed his arm, which made Sam turn around, terrified.
“Don’t you dare insult me again!” he said. His face had been filled with fury and Sam had panicked. He’d tried to get away from him but Alastair had just stood there looking him in the eyes for what had felt like an eternity. Then he’d suddenly started laughing and all his friends with him.
“Look at that scared little boy! Gonna pee your pants are you?” one of them had said with a baby voice. Alastair had let go of Sam who’d instinctively started running. He he’d heard their voices and laughers behind him as he ran. Tears streaming down his face.
When he was nearly home he’d wiped them off and taken a deep breath.
Push down your feelings. He’d thought, All the way to your feet and don’t let them see.
He put on a smile and walked in to his house as the group of guys turned around to go home, all four laughing and patting each other’s backs. Before they were gone one of them spit on the Impala and smiled at Sam with a face that said What are you gonna do fuckface? Yeah that’s right NOTHING.
He hadn’t told his father.
***
So here Sam were again. Walking home wishing for it to end even though it never did. They always followed him, every day new insults and a clever nickname, which they must have come up with during the week. Today it seemed to be bitch face, Sam noted.
He started walking faster hoping that they were tired and wouldn’t keep up. But they never were. After all they were well trained and this was the highlight of their week. They wouldn’t let this go as easily as they did with almost everything else. He could already hear them behind him.
“Yes. Run home to mommy!” one of them yelled.
Sam felt something inside him lighting up. It was the anger as always. He tried to push it away. Tried to not feel anything. Tried to not think about that there was no ‘Mommy’ to run home to.
Down. Down to your feet Sam.
“Oh but wait. You don’t have one!” another said with a smirk.
Sam stopped. He had never told anyone about Mary so how the hell could they now about it? Had Dean told them? Could they have looked it up?
Sam realised that it didn’t matter. He just did not want these idiots talking about his mom. He had been so young when she died and barely remembered anything about her, and he didn’t want someone to ruin his memory of her, so he started running.
He ran as fast as his legs could carry him and tried to cover Alastair’s screams by chanting stuff he’d learned in school out loud.
“One: Hydrogen, H. Two: Helium, He. Three: Lithium, Li. America was founded 1789 and George Washington was the first president…”
He got further away from them but he could still hear them. He raised his voice.
“Jupiter, Gas giant, planet, Location: Milky Way, fifth planet from the sun…
The wind played with his hair as he ran and suddenly it was all in his eyes. For a second he couldn’t see and then his foot touched something and couldn’t get it away from it. It all happened in a second and suddenly he fell.
He hit the ground, hard. All the air went out of his lungs and he could see small black dots everywhere. His body hurt but was not badly injured, except his hands with which he had tried to stop the fall. They’d hit the ground first and it had scraped of a lot of the skin. They were red, but only a small part of them had gotten skin enough torn off for it to bleed. Sam could feel like a pounding in them and he stretched his fingers to see if they were okay. Nothing was broken at least.
He took a deep breath and slowly got up on his feet. He brushed of the dirt on his pants and started to slowly walk testing his legs. They were fine, but he didn’t feel like running anymore. He was too scared he would fall again even though he knew they would get him now. Even if he would start running it was too late.
Alastair and his friends had caught up with him and they had spiteful smiles on their faces.
“Oh I’m so sorry. Too bad your mom can’t help you take care of that!” The one of them that Sam knew as Uriel started, and pointed at his hands.
“Yeah, I bet she’s busy burning in hell for all the dudes she fucked.” Alastair laughed. “You ever wondered how you could get that fancy house? Well it was her hole that fixed that.”
Sam covered his ears and tried not to listen. Tried to think of something else. Anything was good at this moment. He knew his mom hadn’t been like that. Right? Sam had no memory of her, but that was not what she worked with. She had been a…
His thoughts were interrupted by Alastair, who grabbed his arm. He violently pulled it away from Sam’s ear and one of his friends did the same with his other arm.
“What the…?” Sam started and tried to pull away.
“Oh you’re to scared to listed to our words? Well what if we make you listen?”
They all laughed as they pulled Sam’s arms together behind his back. He tried to pull them away but the person behind him was too strong.
Sam panicked and did the first thing that came to his thoughts. He kicked the guy behind him between his legs.
He let out an “Ouch!” and let go of Sam’s right arm. With it he managed to punch the guy in the face giving him a nosebleed, he was also able to kick Uriel the stomach. He looked surprised for a second, as he couldn’t really understand what had just happened, but then his face turned red of anger and he let out a small growl.
The other guy let go of Sam and, before he could do anything, kicked on his left leg so he fell to the ground. It didn’t hurt as bad this time, but he scraped up his hands again and he was too hurt get himself off the ground.
Alastair slowly walked up to him. He gave Sam short smirk and turned to his friends.
“You know… I’m tired of this little bitch-face’s shit. What do you say we bring Sam back to his mommy? Sort of as and act of kindness. Since he’s so fucked up, kindness is just what he needs!” Alastair raged and then cracked up in a mad smile.
Sam’s eyes grew wide, but he could not get his body to work. He was trapped and he could not get away.
The dark haired guy, whose nose Sam had hit, smiled with eager. He lifted his hand and punched Sam hard in the face. Not once, not twice, but five times. Each time took away a little of the pride Sam had left. Because all he could do was lay there and feel every single one land on his face.
Soon it wasn’t just the face that hurt. They punched him on his legs and he could feel how they kicked him everywhere.
He stopped trying to get up. He just wished that he could faint so that he wouldn’t feel anything. So that he wouldn’t feel a goddamn thing.
The guilt and the shame washed over him. All those things they had screamed at him during the months of torture he had had to cope with.
How week he was.
It would just be better if he just stayed where he was anyway. He had never stood up for anyone or any thing, ever. Scared little Sammy. Afraid that the words they threw at him would become real, even more afraid that they already were.
How gross he was.
No one would ever like him. He was just so ugly, and boring, and such a nerd. Who would want to be friends with someone like him? Who would want to protect Sam as he closed his eyes so that he couldn’t see their kicking feet?
How fucked up he was.
The guys were right; it was something wrong with him. They way he looked at others. Not at girls, but at boys. Especially that one boy…
But it was wrong. It was against nature. An abomination and he shouldn’t be allowed to exist. His father would cast him out if he told him. His brother to probably, since he always did what John told him to.
Though he had heard people who weren’t against it. But Sam could not believe that they were anywhere close or that they would even start to think of helping him.
“Do you feel how nice we are to you, you mess?” Alastair screamed. And all Sam could do was nod. Admitting that what they were doing was probably right, as the tears streamed down his face.