call me mica - it/its - i like sam winchester a lot - 18 - sometimes a spn blog sometimes a blog about sexual violence but usually both
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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
1.1k, Trans Woman Sam Winchester, Season 1
Full text below:
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There was something about alcohol. Sam wasn’t exactly a lightweight, but after a beer or two, he started to feel uncomfortable. It only took the slightest hint of a buzz before Sam wanted to crawl out of his own skin.
Before Jess and Stanford, he never had that problem. Dean slipped him plenty of booze in high school, and he never lost his cool. Now, after only an hour and a half at the bar and three beers, Sam had to duck into the bathroom. He just needed a moment to get his head back on straight without Dean’s eyes boring into him.
Sam didn’t actually have to pee, but he did it anyway just to have something to do. He washed his hands and splashed water onto his face. It didn’t help, of course. Nothing ever did. Even when Sam was sober, he knew that something about him was fundamentally wrong.
It shouldn’t be so hard. Sam lived like this for twenty years without even blinking. It wasn’t always difficult to exist within his body.
But now he knew there was another way.
Sam didn't have to feel so gangly and hulking and awkward, buried in his own broad shoulders. It was possible to slip out of his masculine costume and feel smooth, lithe and beautiful. He didn’t do it often, and he certainly never transformed completely—it was impossible to notice that a bra stuffed with gym socks didn't sit on his chest the same way as actual breasts—but for a few stolen hours at a time, Sam felt whole.
Sam didn’t own a bra anymore. It burned in the fire.
It shouldn’t have mattered. Sam never wore it in front of anyone except Jess. He didn’t have any use for women’s clothing once she was gone.
Still, Sam missed them. Even without anything proper to stuff them with, they were better than hiding his frame with a stupid hoodie. The zipper was freezing on his chest, even though his t-shirt. The fabric grazed his nipples. Looking down, everything was unbelievably flat.
How did he do this for years?
Sam could blame Jess. She brought it up. They were together for almost a year before she said it. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you remind me of my sister.”
“Why would I have a problem with that? I like your sister.” Sam only met her once, when he joined Jess for Christmas, but Nicole seemed nice enough. She was quiet, but Sam was too when he was surrounded by people he didn’t know. He was certainly quiet that Christmas.
Jessica looked away for a moment. “She wasn’t always my sister. She wasn’t born a girl.”
Sam would be lying if he said it all clicked at once. For a few weeks, he swore that Jess saw patterns that didn’t exist.
Then Sam put on Jess’ lipstick. He got bored one afternoon and shaved his legs. And one day, after acquiring a tape measure and doing a lot of research, he found a bra that actually fit his massive frame.
That was when Sam knew. The second she put it on, even before she found anything to fill the cups, she never wanted to take it off. She imagined it was how junkies felt after their first dose of heroin, or how rougarous felt after their first bite of human flesh.
Sam couldn’t pick up an addiction. She had a scholarship to maintain, and she wanted to get into law school. Crossdressing wasn’t exactly a good hobby to bring up in interviews. Sam didn’t have the time to drop everything and turn into a woman, and she certainly didn’t have the money.
Jessica swore that in San Francisco, the gender clinics wouldn't turn Sam away for having a girlfriend or not living as a woman full-time. She scheduled Sam an appointment herself. Sam never decided if she would actually go. Real breasts would be nice—Sam couldn’t deny that—and she would love softer skin and a more feminine figure. The changes wouldn’t be noticeable for months, so it wouldn’t stop her from getting into law school. She could easily stay in the closet until she committed.
The problem was after. Sam was still 6’ 4”, and her voice was plenty low. No one would mistake her for anything other than a transsexual. Sam couldn’t imagine anyone taking her seriously on the stand, assuming any clients dared to hire her at all.
Jess promised it would be fine. They were near San Francisco, and if there was anywhere people would respect Sam, it was there. Nicole was plenty successful in her own career. But Nicole didn’t exactly go to Stanford. She was an accountant. Sam set her sights a lot higher than that.
Of course, that was all just a plan. None of it mattered anymore. Jess was dead, Sam was twenty hours away from California, and he couldn’t exactly ask Dean to drive him back so he could turn into a woman.
Sam knew what would happen if Dean caught him in a bra. Dean wouldn’t abandon him, but he wouldn’t throw a party, either. Somewhere between that motel and the next one, any women’s clothing Sam collected would disappear, and they’d both know what happened. The episode would end up on the list of things they didn’t talk about, along with the time in high school that Dean came home early from a job and caught Sam kissing Greg Hathaway.
It wasn’t that Dean would reject him. It wasn’t even that Dean wouldn’t get it. Dean not understanding something never stopped Sam before. But explaining it to Dean at all was a waste of time, because Sam needed to give up the entire thing.
Sam had more important things to worry about than his gender, even back in San Jose. He could have saved Jess if he spent less time daydreaming about getting the perfect body. Sam wouldn’t that stop him from saving the rest of his family. Sam had a demon to kill, and he couldn’t track it across the country in makeup and a bra.
Sam needed to leave the bathroom. He was in there long enough that Dean was guaranteed to crack a joke about Sam sucking someone off. Hiding didn’t help, anyway. Five minutes of quiet couldn’t solve a two-decade-long problem.
Sam could be a man. He did it for twenty-two years. Jess might have gotten ideas into his head, but Sam was back in the real world. It didn’t matter how grotesquely flat his chest; something was after his family. Shaved legs, lingerie and estrogen were a nice fantasy, but they were always destined to go up in smoke. Sam had real work to do.
M | warning for rape/non-con | sam winchester/lucifer
additional tags: gencest, season 8, (formerly) physically de-aged sam winchester, sam winchester has trauma from lucifer's cage, sam winchester lacks bodily autonomy, canon-typical abuse, torture, non-graphic rape/non-con (important to note that it happens in a dream and sam retains his adult consciousness, but he is in a younger body), hurt sam winchester, emotionally hurt dean winchester, sam's childhood hanging over them in different ways
word count: 17k
summary:
“What’s the last thing you remember?”
Sam frowns. “I—we were in the car. We were headed to work on that witch case I think? That’s—that’s it, though.”
Dean studies him, as if trying to determine if he’s lying, and Sam fidgets under the scrutiny, knowing there’s nothing else he can say. Finally, Dean nods, and there’s a heaviness to his expression that Sam can’t make sense of. “You got whammied. Just—” Dean holds up one hand and whistles as he flops it down, as if to mime Sam collapsing. Sam winces. “Took me a bit of time, but I got it figured out.”
…
sam & the aftermath of a s8 case—thoughts on memory & change & the remembrance of sammy.
hmm, how to say this in a way that doesn't accidentally and incorrectly convey that I'm on any various Mad At Someone islands... it is completely #validandreal to be put off by and feel uncomfortable about discussions of sexual violence subtext in fiction, it takes no stretch of the imagination to figure out why it's not to everybody's taste, That's Fine, not everything is for everyone, I'm not making rounds on people's blogs to say Engage With This Abuse Allegory Or Perish. I also think it's completely fair to not want to engage with a lens because it paints a character you like and/or relate to as metaphorically sexually abusive and it doesn't feel good to contemplate that, you get to think about what ever you want in your own blessèd mind and you don't have to bring something into your sandbox if you don't find it fun to play with. what I think is a problem is having that subjective discomfort reaction to sexual violence subtext and then using that discomfort by itself to argue that the reading is invalid and that the people talking about it are just making craaaazy reaches. not enjoying a line of thought is fine, thinking that a particular vein of analysis doesn't hold up to strong counterarguments is fine, saying "I don't like thinking about this so it's wrong and everyone should stop talking about it" is a whole different thing and just further taboos and stigmatizes conversations about sexual violence even in fictional and abstract contexts.
and even beyond the "further stigmatizes talking about sexual violence" thing, it's also simply not good analytical practice. if your goal is fully considered litcrit rather than playing in a sandbox then you cannot dismiss something as invalid just because the vibes are off. usually if a take's vibes are off but you can't pinpoint any actual flaws in its argument then that's a flag that you should focus on that area and figure out what the text is doing to make you uncomfortable, the paper cuts are almost always markers of the really interesting stuff.
teenage sam winchester is so important to me because he's simultaneously the weird quiet honors kid and the most psychologically alarming person you've ever met. like yeah he'll help you with your homework, but there's also something deeply wrong in his eyes. smells faintly like motel soap and old books. carries enough unresolved rage to power a small city. probably has bruises he can't explain. wants normality so badly it starts curdling into bitterness. etc etc.
dean and bobby treating post cage sam like a freak and calling him crazy makes me feel ill. something something you got raped and your family are side eying you.
sam’s clothes in 07x17 (going from his regular clothes at the car accident to the white clothing in the hospital) made me think about sam having to do the skin check / strip search before being allowed into his room in the psych unit while lucifer stands right over the nurse’s shoulder and leers at him and makes jokes about the whole situation (and verbalizes sam’s intrusive / anxious thoughts about the possibility of sexual assault)
11.14 insane contrast between Dean having his cool guy noble military boat adventure while sam gets brutally soul-fisted by his rapist, satan. this very same rapist satan who was appearing to sam in his dreams as his father/God in 11.04 and whom Sam was praying to!!! you were accidentally praying to your rapist satan and now he's in your living room soul-fisting you against the wall. and then the episode ends with SAM comforting DEAN about his BOAT ADVENTURE.
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