Mint and apricots

5. It's always darkest before the dawn

Warning: mentions of rape.

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Once he got inside the car, Sam hurriedly fastened his seat belt as he cast a worried last look at the illuminated front door of the apartment building where his brother and Castiel lived. In the insane fear that Dean would follow him to the street and try to keep him away from his boyfriend's SUV, he curled up on the seat tightening his jacket around his body, as if trying to disappear, and he smiled gratefully at Luc as his partner returned into traffic.

"Thanks for coming" he breathed with warm gratitude, touching his arm with his fingers as a sign of affection.

Luc immediately stiffened and the serious expression on his face only got worse.

"Shut your mouth" he growled, without taking his eyes off the road.

Sam shivered and the idea of not obeying didn't even reach his brain. Attacked by the frost that filled the passenger compartment and which seemed to emanate from Luc himself and his tense nerves, the twenty-six-year-old clasped his arms around his body in a futile attempt to get warmer and closed his eyes, pushing away both the streetlights and Luc's pungent disappointment.

While trying to calm his heartbeat with all he had – Luc was angry, but how much? Furious, he was out of his mind. What was he about to do? Would it be noticeable the next day at work? Donna had already asked him how he got that bruise on his jaw once –, Sam recovered from the maze of his memory the method that Dean had taught him when they were children: he forgot where he was, who he was with and let the most comforting memories that he had available invade his mind.

As Luc pressed on the accelerator pedal like a devil, Sam sighed remembering the joyful smile of Castiel and finding himself in the hug in which Dean had squeezed him a few hours earlier, just outside the library.

He heard the car park too early and a blink afterwards his eyes opened on the driveway of the house he had being calling home only for a few weeks now. Luc turned off the engine and pulled the handbrake vigorously before getting out of the car with the same fury with which he had driven.

"Get your ass in the house" he hissed in Sam's direction before slamming the door and making broad strides towards the entrance.

The twenty-six-year-old closed his eyes again in an attempt to escape the reality that was waiting for him, but it was only for a moment. He wasn't distressed enough not to realize that keeping Luc waiting would only make his situation worse. But the anxiety was surely enough that, at the mere idea of attempting an escape, his stomach writhed in warning pangs and his legs stiffened even before the boy attempt a step. Then he opened his eyes again. Keeping them down, he opened the door, got out of the car and followed Luc's footsteps to the landing with the precision of an automaton.

He crossed the threshold, passing through the familiar black door as if he was entering hell, then stopped just beyond the entrance mat. Luc motioned for him to close the door and he obeyed without breathing, grateful to have the opportunity to buy some time. But when he turned back, the thirty-one-year-old was three steps away from him and was pointing towards the living room.

"Get inside," he only said, but it was enough for Sam to feel the blood drain from his face and end up under his feet, leaving his cheeks white as sheets and his legs unstable.

"Luc, I'm sorry about earlier," he tried to say, and all that came out was an awkward whisper. "But Dean..."

The older one did not let him continue, silencing him with a jerk of his arm.