Okay so it hasn't been done to death yet, it's not-so-good John with Adam included.
Disclaimer: ain't making money off it, therefore don't own it.
1
The sun, as always woke Dean up. The tiny house they'd rented on the wrong side of town barely had beds let alone curtains. He checked his watch; it was a quarter to seven. He'd better wake his brothers up. He got to his feet, his muscles protesting from a month of sleeping on the floor, and folded up the thin blanket he'd used, dropping it on top of his meagre pillow, another folded blanket.
Walking over to the sofa he allowed himself a small smile. Sam and Adam always looked so peaceful while they slept, a far cry from when they were awake. He touched Sam's shoulder gently.
"Sammy, wake up buddy," he said softly, not wanting to wake their father, who, no doubt, was passed out in the only bedroom. Sam's eyelids fluttered and the sixteen year old stirred.
"Is it morning already?" he groaned.
"Yeah, wake up your brother and I'll get breakfast started."
Dean quietly moved over to the kitchen and began to fill two bowls with cereal; he'd have some food when he got Dad up. John would most probably want to go to the nearby diner to get a big greasy breakfast after the night of drinking he'd had. Just thinking about the previous night made Dean gingerly touch the dark bruise he knew he had without looking on his jaw.
They'd had a fight, as always. They didn't have enough money so John had sent Dean out to hustle some pool. The night had been cold and rainy and there hadn't been many people at the bar so, even though he'd cleaned out every man there, Dean had only returned with two hundred dollars. He'd tried to explain this to John but the man wouldn't listen after half a bottle of whiskey. Dean had tried to be silent, but when John hit him so hard he slammed his ribs into the kitchen table leaving a dent in the wood, he'd had to stifle a cry. It had still woken up Adam though.
"Dean?"
The eldest of the Winchester brothers was brought out of his thoughts by his youngest brother, nine year old Adam. Adam's eyes were glued to the fresh bruises on Dean's face.
"Breakfast's almost ready kid," said Dean. "You want orange juice?"
"I thought you said you were fine," Adam said, now noticing Dean's arm wrapped protectively around his bruised ribs. "Last night you said you were fine."
"I am fine Adam. Orange juice or not?" Dean asked again trying to stay off the topic.
Adam sighed and shook his head, sitting down at the table in front of one of the two bowls of cereal. Dean was silent as he put the kettle on to make himself some coffee.
Sam ducked out of the bathroom just as Dean put the milk on the table. He joined Adam at the table and started his breakfast. Dean sat down with his coffee and Sam chanced a look at his brother's face, seeing the bruises but not saying anything.
"How much did you make last night?" Sam asked.
"Two hundred bucks."
"That's not much."
"There were only three people there, including the bartender," replied Dean.
"Bet Dad wasn't happy," Sam said.
"Can't you tell?" Dean answered, his voice neutral.
"Yeah I can tell," replied Sam quietly.
Adam was silent, picking at his food. The kid was skinny and never really ate much despite Dean and Sam encouraging him to eat more. It just wasn't happening for him. He had to deal with school, the fact that all the kids knew that his family were little more than a bunch of drifters, and an abusive father who'd just picked him up one day from his home. Afterwards, Dean had told him in the kindest words possible what their family did for a living and how that involved his mother and her untimely death at the hands of a ghoul.
That had been over a year ago now and he had warmed considerably to both of his half brothers, Dean especially. To him, Dean was the protector of the three of them, always taking their father's attention off the two youngest brothers and onto himself, often leaving himself free to be beaten black and blue by John.
This aspect of Dean was the one thing that frustrated Sam however. Dean was always throwing himself in harm's way. Be it on the latest hunt of Dad's or protecting his two brothers. Sam was sixteen years old now; he knew that he and Dean stood a fighting chance against their father but Dean didn't like the idea. He didn't want anything to happen to his younger brothers. While he was there, he'd take the brunt of John's anger and he wouldn't let either of his brothers get hurt.
Once Sam and Adam had finished their breakfast, Dean stood, one hand still over his ribs and placed the bowls in the sink.
"Your ribs okay?" Sam asked.
"They're fine," replied Dean as he washed the bowls and placed them on the side of the sink to dry. "Why don't you two get ready for school and I'll drive you in."
Adam nodded and hurried over to his duffel bag to pull out the school books he kept in there. Sam, meanwhile, moved over to Dean.
"Why do you let him do this?" he asked in a whisper.
"Do what, Sammy?" Dean replied, not meeting his brother's eyes as he put the milk back in the fridge. As he closed the fridge door Sam reached out and jabbed his ribs softly but to great effect.
Dean gasped and almost fell, throwing out a hand to the table to stop his descent to the floor. Breathing hard he straightened and glared at Sam.
"Do that," Sam said simply.
"Because I don't want him doing it to you," Dean answered. "I can take it, I'm fine."
"Sure you are," said Sam. "Why don't you fight back?"
Dean looked at Sam in disbelief and gestured to his own thin body. "Do you think I could take on Dad? First of all, he's taller than me. Second of all he weighs twice as much as me. That's enough to turn anyone sane off the idea. Thirdly, what happens when he's knocked me out and is twice as angry cause I fought back? Huh? What do you think he's gonna do?"
"Nothing he hasn't done before," said Sam. The few times that John had beaten Dean unconscious and was still fuming had left lasting memories on both Sam and Adam. However, he was never as rough with them as he was with Dean.
"It gets worse, trust me," said Dean. He sighed. He knew he was fighting a losing battle here. "You've seen Dad lately, haven't you? He's drinking more, he getting angrier more often. He thinks he might have figured out a way to track the demon."
Dean didn't have to explain, Sam knew exactly which demon his brother was talking about.
"Things like electrical storms, crop failure, cattle deaths, I don't know, something like that," Dean continued. "The problem is, he'll find the pattern in one town will do some research and find no mothers that have been killed on their kid's six month birthday. He keeps coming up against brick walls."
"He told you all this?" Sam asked.
Dean glanced almost imperceptibly over his Sam's shoulder to see Adam listening intently to what they were saying even though he had a book propped open in front of him. Dean didn't mind him eavesdropping, they'd told him about their mother a long time ago.
"Man, I've been the one helping him with the research," Dean said exasperatedly. "Every time he hits a brick wall, he takes it out on me. Like last night."
"I thought last night was about running out of money?"
"That's what pushed him over the edge. That and me not getting any more than two hundred bucks. He's gonna get some more fake credit cards, though, so we'll be sweet in a couple weeks," said Dean pleading with his eyes to get Sam to back off. There were only so many excuses he could think of at the one time with his head aching like it was.
Sam thought about it for a moment. "Dean. That's all well and good but he"-
Sam cut himself off as the three brothers heard footsteps in the hallway. John Winchester walked into the kitchen and sat down in one of the chairs. Dean, Sam and Adam were silent.
"What, no good morning?" John said gruffly.
"Morning sir," the three of them replied immediately in unison.
"Dean, get me some coffee."
Dean nodded.
"Sam go pack your bag for school," Dean said. Sam glared at his brother. "Now. Please."
Sam walked over to where Adam was and started shoving books into his bag.
Dean turned the kettle back on and once it had boiled made John the mug of coffee he wanted.
"Dean," John said.
"Yes sir?"
"Aspirin."
"Yes sir."
Dean went to the cupboard above the sink where they kept medicines and the like. He reached to where the aspirin was kept but his hand merely grabbed air. There was no aspirin left. They'd had some just yesterday, he thought, his mind racing trying to figure out a way to tell his father. Oh, that's right; John had been hungover like hell yesterday as well.
"Dean? You hear me?" John asked, his temper rising.
"Uh, we're out of aspirin," said Dean softly. "That's okay I'll go out a get some right now."
He reached for the keys to the Impala but John's hand caught his wrist. John was on his feet in an instant. He spun Dean around and slammed his son's back into the kitchen counter making him gasp.
"What do you mean, we're out of aspirin?" John demanded. "We only just got some the other day."
"No, we got it"-
Dean was cut off when John backhanded him across the face.
"Don't you dare talk back to me," John said, hitting his son again.
"I'm sorry sir," said Dean. "Please, I'll go out and get some."
"I bet you took some and that's why we don't have any, am I right?"
"No sir, I swear I didn't take any of it."
John finally let go of Dean's wrist which would be bruised soon and buried his rock hard fist straight into Dean's injured ribs. Dean fell to the floor and bit his lip to keep from crying in pain, as it was tears sprang to his eyes as he tried to fill his lungs with air.
"Get your brothers to school and on the way back, get me some aspirin and don't you dare even think of taking any. Ever. You hear me?" John ordered.
Dean nodded; he hadn't caught his breath enough to answer. John kicked him in the stomach making his double over in pain.
"Answer me when I talk to you boy."
"Yes sir."
Dean stayed on the floor trying to breathe while John finished his coffee and returned to his bedroom. As soon as his bedroom door closed, Adam and Sam rushed to his side. The reactions of Dean's brothers were completely different.
"Dean, are you okay?" Adam asked, helping his older brother sit up.
Sam didn't offer Dean any help. "Why the hell do you do that? Let him beat you for nothing. You did nothing wrong," he whispered.
"I'll be fine Adam," he replied, making sure he didn't let any pain cloud his face.
"You didn't answer me," Sam said. Dean looked up at his brother almost in shock.
"Maybe if you stopped sounding like Dad I might." Sam felt utterly betrayed at those words and turned away from his brother and stood up.
"Sam, please, stop, I'm sorry, I didn't mean what I said," Dean pleaded with his brother. Sam faced his brother. "I'm sorry, please, just help me up and I'll get you guys to school okay?"
Sam sighed and walked back over to Dean. He hooked his arm around Dean's waist and helped him to his feet. Dean immediately bent over with a gasp, one hand on the kitchen counter as the pain returned to his ribs.
"You can't stand up, how the hell are you gonna be able to drive?" Sam said.
"Watch me."
While his brothers packed up the rest of their things and brushed their teeth, Dean sat at the kitchen table and waited for the pain to subside somewhat. Once they were ready to go, Dean had become accustomed to the agony in his ribs and picked up the car keys once again.
The drive to the school was silent. Sam and Adam both went to the same school that catered to children in Kindergarten right up to Year 12 students. Dean had found the school in the area and picked it knowing that it would be easier for them to look out for each other.
He stopped the Chevrolet outside the school and put it in park before turning to his brothers.
"I'll be back at three o'clock okay?"
"Okay Dean, bye," said Adam getting out of the car.
Once Adam was out Sam turned to Dean. "Will you still be alive to pick us up this afternoon?"
"Please don't say that Sam. Of course I will. Take care of your brother. I've gotta go."
"Bye Dean."
"See ya later Sammy," Dean said offering one of his rare smiles.
"Later," his brother said, turning to get out of the car.
Once his brothers had gotten out of sight Dean let out the breath he'd been holding. His ribs hurt so damn bad. He pulled his wallet. Inside was the two hundred he'd won the night before. He then dug his hand into the inside pocket and pulled out the extra fifty he hadn't told his father about. He was gonna get some aspirin for John and some extra strong painkillers for himself he decided. He needed them.