One-shot – response to "What if Dean And Sam Had Max's Childhood." Dean took all the abuse, all the pain, all the beatings. Sam never knew, he never thought that their father was bad. He only thought Dean sued for custody when Dean turned 18 because Dean wanted Sam to live with him at the college, and his father wouldn't let him. Until later, when, cleaning up their apartment, Sam finds Dean's journal…

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Sam grumbled. "Why do I gotta do the house cleaning?" he complained to Dean. "Just because you're worried about Social Services…"

"Social Services are mostly nice people but there's a few bad people in there, Sammy. I couldn't stand it if you got taken away from me. Not to mention that the kitchen is your mess… Should I remind you who tried cooking?"

Sam glared at Dean, who strolled out the door. "Got a class at noon and a class at three; I'll be back around five. Stay out of trouble, Sammy."

"Don't call me that!" Sam yelled, slamming the door. He groaned and put the cereal back in the cupboard. Dean could be so annoying sometimes. He started pilling the few dishes into the dishwasher, not feeling like doing them himself. After he wiped down the table, he went to put the remaining leftover containers in the cupboard when a small book fell out. "What's this?" Sam muttered.

He picked it off of the counter and sat down on the table. He sighed. Sometimes he thought he liked life better when his father was around, but he loved living with Dean. Sometimes his father could yell really loud.

Opening the book, Sam was bemused to see that it was Dean's journal. "Didn't know Dean even wrote in these things…" he thought.

The front page read, "DEANS JOURNEAL, KEEP OUT."

He still spells as bad as usual, Sam thought with a sigh. He opened the first page and glanced down. It was the date that Dean announced that he was going to take Sam away from John.

Dear Mama,

Today was really tough. I can't even begin to describe it. The look on Dad's face was horrifying when I announced I was suing for custody of Sammy and taking him to live with me when I went to Mt. Vernon.

"You're what?" he yelled, slapping me in the face. "What did you say?" he demanded.

"Taking custody away of Sam, Dad. I'm not going to let you start in on him when I'm gone," I said back to him.

"Why the hell would I do that?"

"Because when you're drunk you can't tell the difference between a punching bag and me. Anyway, as soon as I tell my story to the judge, I'll have custody of Sam in no time."

"What about Sammy? Thought you didn't want him to find out," Dad sneered.

"Sam won't find out. This is between you and me."

"What if I start in on him when you've gone to the hotel room or something?" Dad spat back. "I could beat him up any time."

"I'm taking him with me," I said. "I don't trust you for one second."

"Sons are supposed to trust their fathers," Dad said mockingly.

"Fathers aren't supposed to beat their sons," I spat back. "Besides, you don't want Sam to know what you're like when he's not around, right?" I asked with a smirk.

"You wouldn't dare," he hissed.

"Leave us alone, and don't come after us," I said. "Sam? Come on. We're going to go stay in the hotel for a few days."

"Cool," Sam said, bounding down the stairs. "Why, though, Dean?"

"Because I thought it would be fun," I said with a shrug.

"Cool," Sammy said.

Things went well today, so we'll see… I hope to God I get custody… Because when I'm gone, he's going to hit Sammy, I just know it! And I know that can never happen…

Dean

Sam gasped at the writing. Firstly, he never thought Dean liked to write. Secondly, he sometimes thought Dean never thought about their mother. Thirdly, he had no idea his father had ever hit Dean before – he had thought Dean respected Dad and would give his life for him, just as Sam would.

Sam's respect for his father was quickly diminishing. He turned the page, now curious….

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Next Day

Dear Mama,

Well, that went better then I thought. Sam's asleep on the bed… He's so young for his thirteen years! It would positively kill him if he found out Dad's true nature; he loves Dad more then anything, like I'm certain he would love you if you were alive… I've arranged for a private hearing with the judge, and am praying that he listens to me. I'm so nervous, though. I told Sam that he was (hopefully) going to live with me in Mt. Vernon. He said why, and I said, "Because dad's always gone on hunts and stuff… I don't think it's safe."

Sam laughed, and said, "Okay. Can I have my own bedroom?" he asked.

"Of course," I said. I'd give him my own bedroom, even if it meant that I only got the couch. I've been saving money for the last ten years, and I have roughly $6,000. That can go pretty fast, though.

Tomorrow, Dad and I go to talk to the judge well Sam's in school. I've notified Sam's teacher that we might be moving. She and I talk a lot, and she was the one who told me that I needed to help Sam out (so thank her.)

I hope this goes okay, because I can't stand the thought of Sam living with Dad.

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July 3rd, 2005

Dear Mama,

Things went great, I'm relieved. Well, as great as is embarrassing – I was so humiliated. The judge asked me to describe the ongoing abuse, so I did… The hits, the kicks, the punches. Dad was practically smirking the whole time.

But the judge saw my back. It's full of scars, all from dad. He looked at John and said, "So, you're the dad – what do you have to say for this?"

"He deserved it," John said. "Every minute of it." (Thank God he didn't come here sober.)

At this the judge's face turned red and he said, "John Winchester, the only reason I'm not arresting you right now is because it's Dean's wishes. However, you are barred from contact with Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, or any of their friends. You are not allowed in the same town as them. If you attempt to find them I will have you in jail so fast your head'll spin, you understand?"

John shrugged and sort of moseyed out the door. The judge gave me a paper, but said that Social Services would check up on both me and Sam, "for your well-being," he said.

More tomorrow. Sam's home, and I need to talk to him.

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Sam gasped. He remembered that night. He was shocked, to say the least.

"Sam, how would you like to come live with me at the college?" he asked.

He had said yes, thinking it would be fun. And it was a blast. They'd been living there for three years, and Sam continually put up a fuss about the stupidest things.

He was in shock as he continued reading. Dean told his mother about the abuse he'd suffered from his father; his fears that John would come after Sam. He stated in one entry that he finally felt safe enough to keep a journal, and Sam was appalled.

Before he knew it, it was 5 o'clock, and Dean strolled in the door, placing his keys on the counter. Sam jumped up, closing the journal.

"Sam, what the fuck do you think you're doing?" Dean spat, grabbing his journal out of Sam's hands. "That's my journal! You can't read that," he yelled, his face red. "Did you read it?"

Sam nodded. "I know, Dean, about you and Dad."

"Dammit!" Dean hissed angrily. "You were never supposed to find out…"

"Yeah, well, I did. Why the hell couldn't you tell me?" Sam said. "I had to find out myself, reading your journal, because you couldn't tell me. By the way, journal is spelled j-o-u-r-n-a-l, not j-o-u-r-n-e-a-l."

"Smart ass," Dean said, calming down. "I couldn't tell you. He said he'd come after you. Said he'd shoot you. Said he'd beat you, and when he was sick of you, he'd kill you."

Sam glanced at the ground. "This is all my fault."

"Is not, Sam – he would've abused you one way or another if I hadn't yanked you out of there. It's his fault, not yours. Now, since you found this out, will you please stop bitching about cleaning the house every now and then?" Dean said.

"Um, sure," Sam said, glancing at Dean. "But Dean, I'm sorry…" he trailed off.

"Stop saying you're sorry. Okay, I got beat up. Okay, I got smacked around. But it was worth it. Just promise me you'll keep studying and get into Sanford, okay?" Dean said.

"Um, actually, Princeton," Sam said, blushing.

Dean smiled. "That'll make it all worth it for me, bro. I need to have something to rub in his face."

Sam smiled. "Okay, but you're cooking dinner."

Dean smiled and took his journal away from Sam. "Whatever for, Sammy?" he asked.

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A/N: Reviews are critical. Please tell me what you think.