Disclaimer: Yes, I can also recite all the American president's birth dates.

Dean is 14, Sam is 10

OKAY! This is the most OUTLANDISH fic I've written. If you can make it through the first chapter, i actually think this will be a great story. That is... if you can make it through the first chapter

This takes place in roughly the 1600s. I may be wrong 'cause honestly, my history ain't too good. I'd be happy if you can just accept the story as is and ignore the historical inaccuracy.

Same goes for the medical conditions, though I try to do research and be accurate with that stuff.

WARNING: some mentions disturbing events

Enjoy chapter one!

Dean struggled to button up the many buttons on his dress clothes. "Goddammit..."

"Master Dean, please let me help you," Clara pleaded.

Dean looked at his buttons with frustration and sighed. "Fine," he said resigned.

Clara closed her eyes in relief as she stepped up and expertly finished buttoning and straightening out Dean's outfit for him.

"Alright, alright!" Dean said as she started to wipe his shoulders off.

Clara smiled. "Just try not to ruin it during the dinner."

Dean grunted in response as he looked at himself in the mirror. He gripped the collar and pulled on it, trying to loosen it up.

As Clara started to leave, Dean mumbled a thank you. Clara smiled. "It's my job, sir."

"Doesn't mean I shouldn't be grateful," Dean replied automatically.

Clara nodded and gave a small bow as she left the room.

Dean sighed. That last exchange with Clara was word-for-word, has been word-for-word, for almost nine years.

Clara had practically raised Dean ever since his mother died when he was four. Clara knew everything his father didn't, and she probably knew more.

What frustrated Dean was how formal she was around him, even when they were alone. He always confided her and knew she would never betray his trust, but she still never overstepped her boundaries as a slave.

Before Dean's mother died, she often expressed her dislike of having other people do things for her. She said it was a sign of weakness if other people did things for you. Of course, she never voiced this opinion to her husband, who reveled in slaves doing his bidding and taking the fall for him and his family. Lady Mary always expressed the need for Dean to stay silent on the issue.

When she died and Dean was raised by Clara and mostly ignored by his father, Dean started to form his own opinion. He usually tried to do everything himself, except when his father was present. Once, he had tried to serve his own dinner and ended up spilling it on the floor. The slave who usually served the dinner was beaten nearly to death and thrown out on the street.

So Dean toes the line, keeping the slaves out of trouble and doing things for himself when he can.

And, still, whenever he expressed gratitude, Clara always responded with the same thing.

"It's my job, sir."

It's not a job if you don't get paid, Dean thought to himself. The whole concept of a human owning another was just revolting to him.

Dean fiddled with the buttons of his outfit as he waited for his father to summon him. He was going to be absolutely miserable tonight. He generally hated all things formal, finding the environment too stifling for him.

But tonight was going to be even worse. Tonight his father was going to an action to buy slaves. And he had ordered Dean to join him, claiming that he needed to learn about the finer things in life. First they would have dinner with family friends. Then they would head for the auction where they would remain for the rest of the evening.

Dean buried his face in his hands, mentally preparing himself for the evening. If he didn't behave, no doubt Clara would take the fall and he couldn't let that happen.

His father, Lord Jonathan, went through slaves like napkins. The tiniest infraction would result in punishment (what the punishment is depends on the infraction) and often, being sold. There were only five slaves that have been there for any length of time. Clara and Wolfgang were the only ones that have been there since before Dean was born.

The slaves lived in a small shack-like building. Dean would often visit to talk or listen to their stories. But since most of them were adults and never stayed for long, he didn't really have any friends. He downright refused to mingle with children of his own class no matter how much Clara urged him to, finding them to be stuck up and bad-natured.

There was a knock on the door. "Come in," Dean said.

Wolfgang opened the door and stepped inside. "Lord Jonathan is waiting for you, sir."

Dean closed his eyes and sighed. "Alright, I'm coming.

---

"Next we have a young African male, well-toned muscles and perfectly healthy but make sure you lock him up at night, he has a tendency to try and escape. We'll start the bidding at 2000, do I hear 2000?"

Dean stared at the floor in front of the stage, trying to appear as though he was interested and blocking out the auctioneer's voice at the same time.

They've been there for a few hours already. His father had already bought seven slaves, replacing the seven that had either been thrown out or died since the last auction Lord Jonathan had attended. Now Dean didn't know why they were still there, besides that his father seemed to be enjoying watching these poor bastards getting sold like pieces of meat.

"Sold! To Lady Janet for 7600!"

The slave was led away in chains, the stage preparing for the next specimen. Dean leaned over to his father, who was laughing at something one of his friends had said. "Dad?"

"Yes, Dean?"

"We've already got enough slaves to replace the ones we've lost -- "

"No, we didn't lose them. They were simply worn out and needed to be thrown out."

Dean didn't comment on his father's statement. "Point is, we're ready to go now and I'm really tired..."

Lord Jonathan took a sip of his drink and shook his head. "Nonsense, Dean. Have fun! That's what we're here for!"

Dean pursed his lips and nodded. He sat back down in his seat and sighed. I suppose I could claim to have stomach pain...

"Next we have a young boy, submissive and mute, perfect for a quiet, easy going household. We'll start the bidding at seven hundred."

Dean blinked in surprise when his father took the bid. "What? Dad, I said we already replaced -- "

"No harm in having one more, son," he said with a shrug.

Dean looked at the stage to look at who his father was bidding on. He frowned when he saw it was a child. "I thought you didn't buy children," Dean said looking back at his father. Dean may be repulsed by slavery, but he nearly wanted to vomit every time he saw a child slave, not even being able to imagine the horrors they've gone through. At least adults have some know how on how to deal. Children had no idea and were often treated more brutally than the adults. In a way, Dean was almost thankful his father never bought them, because he knew his father would be especially brutal them. "You said they were disobedient and more trouble than they were worth. So why -- ?"

"Always keep an open mind, Dean. A man can change, you know."

Dean looked back at the stage, trying to keep his expression neutral, though he was pretty sure he was failing. The boy was no older than ten. His mouse brown hair was ratty and reached down to his shoulders. His eyes were downcast and he was visibly trembling.

"Sold! To Lord Jonathan for eleven hundred!"

Dean dug his nails into his arm to keep himself from vomiting.

---

Lord Jonathan was still talking to his friends on the way back to their home. Dean was looking out the window of the coach, thinking about the new batch of slaves, especially the little boy.

Dean was racking up his brain, trying to figure out why his father would suddenly buy a child. He really couldn't think of anything except that maybe his father had had a change of heart on the issue of child slaves. Dean shuddered at the thought. That child was going to make a mistake eventually and he would pay for it dearly.

The slaves that they bought were being brought back on an open cart in chains. They would be brought directly to the slaves quarters to receive directions and to sleep for the night. Tomorrow, Lord Jonathan will see his new slaves and give them instructions and rules.

"Dean?"

Dean looked at his father. "Yes, father?"

"I said, what did you think of the auction this evening?"

Dean shrugged. "It was... entertaining."

"But...?" Lord Jonathan said expectantly.

"Well... I'm just wondering why you bought a child."

"That's a very good question," Lord Thomas said. "Let's hear it, John. I mean, we all know that children are such a hassle to keep under control. I don't care how submissive the previous owners say they are, children are always a menace and create a mess of the place."

"But, the adults are harder to train if they're not completely submissive," Lord Jonathan said. "This child is a trial run. I want to see if I can raise a child to be a long term slave. Having to re-buy them over and over hurts the wallet a little after a while. I might be able to raise a child in a way that I won't have to get rid of them as an adult."

Lord Gerrison nodded in agreement. "Still, it might be more trouble than it's worth."

Lord Jonathan smiled. "Well, we shall see."

Dean swallowed hard and looked back out into the night. He started to wonder which would be best for the kid: to stay under his father's brutal rule, or to fend for himself in the streets.

---

Dean waited for a long time, laying in his bed, pretending to sleep.

As soon as they got home, Clara was ready and waiting to take off Dean's clothes and get him ready for bed, despite Dean's protests.

While she prepared a heated pan for his bed, Dean quietly asked Clara if she could take him to the slaves quarters later. She nodded and said, "I'll come get you when your father's asleep."

Clara didn't live in the slaves quarters. She had a small room to herself next to Dean's. Wolfgang, Lord Jonathan's personal slave, also had a room to himself next to Lord Jonathan's. There was another room next to Lord Jonathan's for another personal slave. Lady Mary's slave, Maria, used to live there. But after Lady Mary died, Lord Jonathan beat her nearly to death than sold her. The room's been empty ever since.

There was a soft knock on Dean's door. Dean sat up and quickly answered it.

Clara held up a candle and gave a small smile. "Are you ready, Master Dean?"

Dean nodded as he stepped outside and carefully closed his bedroom door behind him.

Clara gave a small huff. "Master, I cannot let you outside in nothing but your nightgown!"

"I'll be fine, Clara. I won't get it dirty, I promise."

"That's not the point!" she whispered harshly. "It's unseemly for you to be outside in this state. Even in the cover of darkness!"

"If it's seemly for a slave to be out on a plantation in rags all day, then I'm perfectly fine as I am now," Dean said dead serious. He took the candle from Clara and headed down the stairs.

Clara shook her head but didn't press the issue.

When they reached the slaves quarters behind the house, Clara carefully knocked on the door. A few moments later, the door cracked open and one of the slaves poked his head out. Seeing who it was, he opened the door all they way and let them in.

The lamps were still lit and, by the looks of it, they were all awake. Dean figured they wouldn't be asleep yet. Whenever they got new slaves it took a while to get them settled in and for everyone to calm down enough to fall asleep.

One of the new slaves looked at Dean in confusion. He leaned over to the slave next to him and whispered something.

Dean saw this and walked up to him. The new slave's eyes widened a little, but then narrowed in a glare.

"I take it you're wondering why I'm here," Dean said.

The new slave sighed. "The thought crossed my mind. Did your Daddy send you down here or something?"

Dean just looked at him for a second. Then he sat down on the floor in front of him, looking up at the slave. The slave's confusion was evident on his face. "What's your name?" Dean asked.

The slave blinked at the question. "Joshua."

Dean nodded. "Well, Joshua, have you thought about escaping yet?"

The slave's expression didn't change, though his brow furrowed a little. "Why does that matter?"

"Because I want you to know, that my father has excellent guards. And they don't just shoot escaped slaves. They string them up for a little fun before taking them to my father, who usually cuts off a toe or two, maybe break a leg, before sending you back to work."

Joshua took in a deep breath, but didn't say anything.

"And I also want you to know, that if it were up to me, I'd let you all go."

Joshua's eyes widened at this. His jaw dropped a little and he shook his head. "What -- ?"

"My father doesn't know, but I absolutely abhor the thought of one human owning another. I'm trusting you not to tell my father."

Joshua laughed. "If you abhor the thought, then why do you still use us?"

"He doesn't," the slave next to him said. His name was Caleb. He worked out on one of the plantations for the most part. He was bought by Lord Jonathan seven months previously. "Master Dean tries to do everything himself unless his father is present."

Joshua looked at Dean disbelievingly. He shook his head. "It's not like you actually care."

Dean sighed. He didn't even know why he bothered to talk to new slaves like this. None of them are accustomed to the idea of a master who doesn't even want slaves. It just doesn't compute in their heads.

He stood up and wiped the dirt off his nightgown, making sure there weren't any stains on it for his father to find later. "Can you tell me where the boy is?"

Both Joshua and Caleb frowned. "What boy?" Caleb asked.

"The only boy that came in! It's the only child my father's ever bought! How can you not have noticed him?"

Suddenly there was a hand on his shoulder, making him turn around. It was Clara and she looked at Dean with sad eyes. "I found him, sir."

Dean looked at Joshua and Caleb for a moment before following Clara. She led him to the far corner of the slaves quarters, where some of the slaves had started to fall asleep.

The boy was tucked in the corner, squeezed between one of the shared cots and the wall. He had his arms wrapped around himself and was trembling hard.

Dean knelt in front of the boy, concerned. "Clara, get me a blanket." When Clara got up to do as she was told, Dean reached forward and placed a hand on the boy's shoulder. The boy gasped and jerked his head up to look at the newcomer.

The look the boy had in his eyes tugged on Dean's heart. They boy's expression was the very definition of fear. He was crying silently, his shoulders shaking from the cries. His eyes were so full of sadness that Dean had a moment of insanity where he wanted to sweep the boy up and carry him away from his awful place.

Clara came back with the blanket, kneeling next to Dean. She unfolded the ratty blanket and wrapped it around the boy's shoulders. The boy shied away and continued to shake, but didn't try and fight them at all.

"What's your name, kid?" Dean asked.

The boy's eyes widened at the question. He swallowed hard and shook his head.

Dean frowned. He looked at Clara with a confused expression. "What's wrong with him?"

"He's just scared, Dean," Clara said, though she looked a little confused as well.

A laugh erupted from behind them, causing them to turn. One of the new slaves was laying on his back, laughing as if someone had just told an extremely humorous joke. "Yeah, he's scared," the man said between laughs. "He's also a fucking mute."

Dean sucked in a breath as he looked back at the kid. The kid was nodding his head vigorously, tears still falling down his face. Dean reached forward and pulled the blanket further around the kid, trying to get the kid to stop trembling. "I'm not gonna hurt you," Dean whispered.

Clara continued to look at the laughing slave. "What's the boy's name?"

The slave looked at Clara. The sighed as he sat up, still giggling. "His name's Sam."

Sam. Dean nodded. The name seemed to fit the boy. Dean gave Sam a small smile. "How do you do, Sam? I'm Dean."

The boy's lips moved a little as he mouthed the word. Dean smiled as the boy's trembling seemed to decrease a little. "Why don't you lay down, Sam. You're gonna want to get some sleep before tomorrow."

After a moment, Sam gave a small shaky nod. He slowly rearranged himself so he could lay on his side, using his arm as a pillow. Almost immediately, his eyes began to droop. Before long, the boy was sound asleep.

Dean turned to the slave that had been laughing earlier. "I'm assuming you were both owned by the same family before this?"

The slave nodded. "Name's Jack. And yeah, I've known Sam since he was born. I knew his parents."

Dean knew he was going to regret his next question. "What happened to his parents?"

Jack shrugged. "Father was beaten to death before he was born. Mother was sold off 'bout six years ago."

Dean sighed. "Was he born mute?"

Jack shook his head. "Nah. Sam accidentally knocked something over when he was five or six. He got beaten real bad for it. Hasn't spoken a word since. Our master thought he was faking it. Turns out he wasn't."

Dean's stomach clenched. The way Jack said that was unsettling to Dean. "What do you mean?"

Jack giggled again. "Our master threatened to cut his tongue out if he didn't say anything. 'Course, since Sam couldn't say anything, he ended up losing his tongue."

Dean gagged. He quickly stood up and leaned against the wall, his gag reflex making it hard to breath.

Jack just smiled. "Funny... watching the kid writhe and flop when he can't even scream..."

"Stop it!" Clara barked. Dean was sheet white pale, a thin layer of sweat appearing on his skin. Clara placed a hand on Dean's back and rubbed it, trying to calm him down.

Once Dean caught his breath, he nodded to Clara. "'M fine..."

Clara nodded and took a couple steps back. Dean stood up straight and wiped the sweat off his face. He looked down at Sam, trying not to picture Sam getting his tongue cut out. But his mind didn't listen.

Clara cleared her throat. "Master, we should probably go back in. You need your sleep, as well."

Dean nodded, not really thinking. "Yeah, okay." Dean gave Sam one last glance before following Clara back to the house.

yeah... this first chapter was really boring wasn't it? Well, review and let me know. i promise the next chapter will be MUCH more interesting...

Sooo...? Review and let me know what you think :)