CHAPTER ONE: Dean - The born grown up
Dean Winchester died at the age of four on a dark, stormy night with his house burning down, his mother's dead body on the ceiling and his hands full of a bundle that was his younger brother Sam.
He knew the exact day, place and time that happened.
At the age of 5, during his mother's funeral Dean - the child in him - died and in his place was born Dean - the soldier.
Dad became Sir.
Mom became a ghost above their heads.
Happiness became revenge.
Free-time became training-time.
Comics became books with info on their enemies.
And Dean became both father and mother to Sam.
Sometime in between then and the age of 28, Dean stopped being a son to John and became a soldier. Jokes became orders, smiles became blank faces.
Sometime between then and now, he grew up by raising himself, with no friends, no girls. His father didn't allow it; it made you weak, it made you soft. And soft was unacceptable.
Sometime between then and here he hadn't had time to even remember his mother. To mourn her.
Sometime between then and now his father killed every bit of the kid he had inside. Every drop of innocence, every sign of being a child.
At the age of 11 Dean stepped in front of his father clearly telling him clearly that the older Winchester won't destroy another child.
Not on Dean's watch.
That was the first time - the only time - that John Winchester raised his hand to his son. It was one slap but it served it's purpose it killed the remaining dreams - like becoming a doctor, or having a dog - out of that Dean had once held on to.
And now watching the door slam behind Sam - with finality - and his father slamming the doors (door) of the bathroom he knew that nobody would ever know what he had lost through the years. His mom, his dad, his brother...himself.
Yes, Dean knows the exact day, time and place when he died.