Tochi: Yeah, I was re-watching Nightmare, and then BOOM! An idea hit me!

Flap Jack: No that was me.

Tochi: abusive -sulks- ANYWAY! The title is a line taken straight from that episode.

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It had been 3 years since Mary's death, and her death had struck the family terribly. She was John's only true love. His soul mate. How could she just be gone like that? Whenever he was drunk enough, he'd think about her, and get mad at Sam. If it weren't for Sam, she wouldn't have died.

The way John saw it, it was all Sam's fault.

The seven year old Dean always did all he could to protect Sam, but then he got hit too.

After the fire, most of the house was burnt, so they moved in with Mary's parents. They were getting on in years, and couldn't get down the steps to the basement where John and the kids lived, and they couldn't hear the children's screaming.

Whenever the boys would go upstairs, John told them a story to tell to their Grandparents, usually falling or running into things, sometimes, 'Dean got too rough when we were playing' And then Dean was punished, which only made John a little happier.

The way John saw it, Dean was getting what he deserved.

He shouldn't have gotten in his way, he shouldn't have tried to protect Sam. It was all Sam's fault. All his fault.

Sometimes during his sober hours, usually between the time he woke up and 11 o'clock he would be angry at himself for what he was doing to his kids. They were the only things he had left from Mary. Mary had loved both of them so much, this wouldn't be what she wanted.

But that's what was happening.

Right now, John sat in the little room they used in the basement as a living room, bottle of Tequila grasped in his hand, eyes glassy from the alcohol.

John was drunk again.

Sam and Dean were both in the bedroom, Dean holding his three year old brother as Sam silently sobbed into his shoulder. Sam knew what that bottle meant. It meant he was going to be beaten, and he was afraid.

"It's ok, Sam." Dean whispered, rocking him slowly, "I won't let him hurt you."

Sammy burrowed closer and clutched Dean's shirt tighter in his little fists.

He knew Dean would try to protect him, but the seven year old was no match for their full grown father, Dean would only slow him down.

Sam and Dean both froze as they heard the door creak open, and John standing in the doorway, swaying a bit on his feet.

"You lil' fucker. 'S all your fault!" He slurred, moving into the room, Dean's arms tightening around Sam's little body.

"Daddy, don't, he didn't do anything, leave him alone." Dean tried, Sam clinging to Dean tightly.

"'E killed, Mary, 's all 'is fault!" He slurred again, his fist slamming into the side of Dean's head before he grabbed Sam by the collar of his shirt, ripping him away from his brother's grasp.

"'s all your fault!" He repeated throwing Sam to the floor, "You killed 'er!" He cried, kicking Sammy in the side, Sam curling up into a ball to try and protect himself.

John growled and picked him up by the scruff of his neck, the little boy sobbing softly.

"You killed Mary." He growled, throwing Sammy back into Dean.

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Flap Jack: Wow, didn't know she had it in her.

Tochi: Sorry it's so short but… -cries in corner- POOR Sammy! -clings to baby Sammy-

Flap Jack: Wimp. Read, Review, Alert, Join my army.