A/N: This is my first story so I am majorly sorry for any mistakes.I never would have considered posting anything but i figured i might as well...thank you for reading and critisism would be appreciated but please take it easy on the flames! most likely no one is holding u at gunpoint forcing u to read a story so if u hate dont read it :P I don't own anything. Obviously.

Sam and Mark are roughly 15 at this point...

Of Brothers and Secrets

Prologue

"I still don't understand how it can cut you."

"Sam, you don't need to understand. You just need to know they can." Mark said while trying to bandage the small bloody gash on the side of his head just behind his left ear.

"You said it was a ghost! I thought we were supposed to, like, be able to go through them." Sam replied, sprawled across his bed. He picked up a stray pillow and threw it at Mark's back.

Just as Mark turned to retaliate, their father entered the room. "Sam," he began, "you were supposed to- Mark, what are you doing in here?"

"I um….I was just discussing a test we took today in uh…math." Mark said, spinning around to try to hide his wound.

The General narrowed his eyes. "What have I told you about lying, boy?" He sees the bloodied tissues, gauze, and medical kit lying open upon the desk. "You got into another fight? I'm not going to keep coming in to get you out. All you do is cause a hell of a lot more trouble than you deserve, you worthless shit!" With that sneered comment he threw out a powerful backhand which caught the right side of Mark's face, tossing his head to the left. Sam shot up and went immediately to his brother's side.

"You never come." Mark righted himself, jerking his neck to the side, receiving a satisfying crack, and continued. "Yes. I was in a fight. With a ghost. Damn thing threw me into a desk before I could burn the bones." He growled out, and then spit blood to the side.

"I told you never to speak of that!" Their father was beginning to sound venomous.

Mark tensed himself and his tone became icy. "It's what I do. I didn't ask for your opinion. You wanted the truth."

Sam grabbed his arm. "Mark-" He had a look of pleading in his eyes. "Don't, just don't."

"Sam, get out." His father interrupted. "This is between me and your idiot brother."

Mark used his arm to shove Sam behind him and out of the way as the General made to reach for him. "Don't tell him what to do, jackass." His eyes narrowed to tiny slits.

"You little unthankful bastard," the General grabs Mark's shirt and slammed him into the wall. Sam left the room, receiving a certain glance from Mark. He grabbed Nat and took her over to his best friend Matt's house so she could hang out with Matt's little sister.

"You're the bastard. I don't give a shit about what you think." Mark said, glaring up at his father.

"You listen to me. This is my family. I don't care what your mother's mental family used to do, you are not to follow them, and I expect you give me the respect I deserve." He said, shoving Mark into the wall again.

"The respect you deserve? Fine. Here's your respect." With that Mark spit directly in the General's face.

The General stepped back, pulling Mark forward, and throwing him to the floor. Mark rolled to his feet, grabbing an old switchblade and holding it in front of him. He glanced back and slowly backed out the door.

"Get out of my house, boy." The General growled, following him, "Get out and stay out. Come near here again and I will kill you myself."

"Gladly. But if I ever hear of you hurting them, I will find you. You will regret ever laying eyes on any of them." Mark grabbed a prepared hunter's pack from just inside his door, swung around and stalked out into the woods behind the house.

10 minutes later, Sam returned to his father, and an empty bottle of whiskey. "Sir?" He inquired. "Where's Mark?" The General whipped his arm back, sending the bone-dry bottle flying through the air only to shatter against the wall near Sam's head. A few pieces embedded themselves in his shoulder and arm. He slid out of the room and ran upstairs to the bathroom to remove them.

This was what his mother came home to. One son, gone forever, her husband already lost to the burn and numbness of alcohol. And that was how it remained for many years to come.