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Language:
English
Series:
Part 1 of Scarecrow's Angst series , Part 1 of One Another
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Published:
2022-05-19
Updated:
2023-05-03
Words:
8,635
Chapters:
13/26
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21
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135
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6,687

How is it Supposed to Feel?

Summary:

Sam had seen more things than he would tell, that he would let anyone know. Sam needed help.

Notes:

First, let me get my intentions with this story out of the way the story isn’t to glorify rape. This story is to show the mental state of the survivors, how they get torn down of their dignity and self-worth, and how it's done by people you know and is related to rather than strangers more often than not. I'm not making this sexual and steamy cuz it's scary and harming I want you to feel like you want to throw up I want this to make you feel things that no one should have to feel because that's how it feels to get raped it is not a good feeling if you cry during this that's a bonus it's supposed to make you feel things I want you to flat out I know that this is not for the character(Sam)'s but I want Sam to doubt himself I want him to think Little of his self-worth I wanted to doubt himself because that's what it feels like to experience it I want him to lose his faith in God but still pray for better days. So my goal to write this is to show it how it is, to show what it's like, and not to glorify rape because that should not be glorified. It is not to make character (sam) development because this is not developing his character it is harming him he will not move on from this like it was no big deal because it is a big deal if you want to put your impact in do so if you want to give your personal experience then please do I want this to be accurate if you want to do so personally then here are my socials (Snap- jelly_punk Wattpad- My_Fairytale_Hero Email- [email protected]) if you know someone who wants help but you can't help them or don't know how I'll try if you want to talk then use it use my soul toes even if this isn't even if this hasn't happened to you even if you just want to talk use it please I like to talk to people even if I don't know what to say.

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: JULY 24TH 1994

Chapter Text

JULY 24TH 1994

 

Hot showers aren't Sam's thing, the way it would burn his skin and make him feel stuffy. It was a no. A big no for him. That was till he was 11, he would have the water so hot it would burn him. The red hot welts that formed on his skin, he would have tears in his eyes from it. He would bite back his tongue from a painfully broken sob forming at the back of his throat. He wanted to cry for Dean, he wanted Dean to tell him it was okay. It is going to be okay. To hold him. But he was so tainted with sins, so un-pure, so him. So till he was pure and forgiven for his shameful sins he would scrub his skin till he felt clean enough, but it didn't happen. It never did. He scrubbed and scrubbed till his skin was red hot and bleeding, it wasn't enough, it would never be good enough, he would never be clean. He couldn't be clean. He couldn't be forgiven. Even if he died he would still be dirtier than the dirt he was buried in. He would have to still feel this way. 

He was held down by the back of his throat.

He wants to throw up, he felt disgusting, he clenched his jaw as tight as he could and balled his fists. Nails digging into his flesh

He couldn’t breathe right. Too many things happening at once... He didn't want to breathe then .

Too many thoughts in his mind, too many glances at himself in the mirror. He would look in the mirror, see his puffy red eyes from crying so hard, the fading red marks on his throat. He wants to feel okay like he didn't ask for it. 

Did he ask for it? 

John said he did .

Was it all his fault? 

John said it was. 

Would Dean think he was a freak for what he did? 

John said Dean would never look at him in the face again. So he had to be quiet, so Dean didn't know or hear. He said that Dean would hate his guts. Or did he? Well it's not like Sam could blame him, but he doesn't want Dean to think that. He was a freak, he was disgusting, but Dean would stay with him, right? Dean would make him pure again, Dean would help him. Dean has always been there for him.

Dean was his world, Dean is his world. Dean is his night and day, yin and yang, his 42. Dean was his and he was Dean's. But he couldn't shake the feeling, he wasn't clean, he is far from it. He let John touch him in ways that no one would understand, not that he would tell. Sam tried to stop shaking, it was no reason to cry, he was a Winchester not a sissy. Dad told him that but when did he ever listen to him? 

 

'You listen to me just a few moments ago'

 

Sam shook the thought out of his head, he didn't want to think about John, not after what happened. No after the way he told him how he looked. 

'You look like your mom when you're on your knees, Sam, so pretty '

Sam didn't know what to think of that, he wasn't sure if he wanted to be like his mother anymore if that is what he got in return. He didn’t want to be called pretty by John. He didn’t want to be on his knee having to look up even more when it came to looking at him 

'Pretty blue eyes, right Sammy? So pretty'

He didn't like John calling him Sammy, to him he was Sam he didn't like how it sounded when he said it. It was all the bad things in the world when he said it, it was gross, sinister, it wasn't good. Sam didn't like his eyes anymore, he wanted hazel like Dean's, he tried to look like Dean, not his mom. Never his mom.

He couldn't look at himself anymore. He looked down at his legs. The light red marks on the insides of his thighs and on his hips, he knew it was going to bruise. Some already were. He wants to be alone. Walking to the cheap tub in the cheap motel, he sat down in the corner of the tub. Hands lightly grazing the formed bruises on his hips and inner thighs. Discusting. That was all he thought about. How could he be so gross, so tainted. Sam wasn’t dumb, He knew what rape was and sex but he didn’t know where he fell on that line. He didn’t want to think about it too hard. If he thought about it then he would have to remember, he didn’t want to remember. He didn't want to think about it, he didn't want to cry. So he would shut up. 

I'm not a sissy, I'm a Winchester