When Sam was 15 they were living in a small town in Nebraska. Dean was 19 and like his father living in the home when there wasn't evil to rid. Sam was attending the local high school, where he had acquired a few friends.

One evening, Dean was supposed to pick him up from the library, where he was working on a school project. Sam told him the exact time the library closed, leaving no room for mishaps. Sam and his project partner Michael were waiting outside the library on the steps. It had been ten minutes since the library locked the doors, when Michael's mom picked him up. His mom offering to give him a ride home, Sam politely declined stating that Dean was probably grabbing a bite to eat and would be there soon enough. The bid good-bye and took off.

Sam moved down away from the steps to the sidewalk, there was a café on the other side of the side of the street; he figured that it would be better to stay warm inside there, than out on the street. Also figuring that he would have less of a chance of getting attacked by anything, if it was out there. He checked both ways before heading across; he was in the middle of the street, when suddenly out of nowhere there was a 73 midnight blue Chevelle, right behind him with no intention of slowing down from it's over 60 miles an hour speed. Sam tried to move quickly out of the way, but found himself stuck to the road. He ducked down hoping that the driver could see his body better, instead of his tall lanky form. But it instead it picked up speed, hitting him square in the upper back. His body flew forward, making contact with the pavement several feet off the road, and his head just barely missing the concrete curb. He lay there in complete agony, noticing no one saw the accident happen to come run and help him.

Only a few moments passed before, he heard the familiar sound of his brother's 67 Chevy Impala. He heard the door open and shut, then his brother's voice yelling his name. He tried to responded, but found his voice gone. He attempted to roll over, but ended up in more pain. Then he heard his brother, open and close the truck on the car and cock the gun. "Sammy, you better not be shitting with me, I'm not in the mood. Sammy, come on." Then Dean noticed Sam's book bag lying on the side of the road, and tire marks on the pavement. "Hey, Sam, come on this isn't funny, dad's going to be pissed, if we don't get home soon."

Sam slowly tried to drag him self from the empty parking space in front of a parked car, so that his brother could see him. When he did so, he felt something crack in his arm and chest, this time his voice was heard when he yelled in agony. He heard his brother's hurried footsteps, as he started falling unconscious, but then he heard Dean talking. "Sammy, can you walk, Sammy, you have to walk, I can't carry you, you're too tall." He swore that he heard himself reply, but didn't know if he did. The next thing he remembered was being in the impala, and Dean complaining he better not bleed all over the seats.

Then Dean was dragging him into the emergency room of the hospital, yelling for a doctor. He was lifted on to a gurney, and rushed away from his brother. Everything became a fog of pain afterwards, until he awoke, without his brother at his side.

Dean sat in the waiting room, when a lady approached him 20 minutes after he had been forced away from Sam. "Excuse me sir, are you Sam Winchester's relative."
"Yes, I'm Dean his brother. Why is there something wrong?"

"I'm from, social services; I have some questions about him. Are your parents available for you to contact?"

"Dad's at work, he isn't going to be home until 11; mom died 11 years ago."

"While the doctors were helping your brother they noticed several hand like bruises on his arms, a couple of knife cut like scars, on his chest amongst the bruises from the accident."

"What are you implying, that my father, or myself abuses him."

"Dean, how much older than Sam are you?"

"Four years."

"Have you ever had feelings of jealousy towards your brother, of any kind? Because I myself looked at the bruising and I have seen, plenty of cases where older brothers are jealous of younger siblings and beat them."

"No, never, I have been the best brother I can, for him. The only emotion I have towards my brother is remorse for not being able to remember our mother other than through pictures, when he was a couple of months old."

"Has your father ever…"

"No, he is hardly ever home, he works a lot so that we can have the best life he can get."

"Where does he work?"

"I don't know where he is working right now; he goes from job to job. I was out of town, Sammy knew I was coming back, and called and ask if I could pick him up. Dad has been different for a while, since Sammy got hurt a couple years ago. He'll stay in one town long enough for Sam to finish a semester or maybe finish the year, but being in one town too long, hasn't happened in a while."
" What do you mean?"

"Sammy had been staying with our aunt and uncle in Kansas, a little over two weeks ago, while I was out of town."

"So if you're not there he goes to Kansas?"

"Yeah, but I'm not gone more than 2 days at a time. Plus it's like every 3 to 6 months."

"May I ask why?"

"Girlfriend back in Kansas and knows that I'm only like 2 hours away from the house he stays in."
"So did he stay there, this weekend?"

"Yeah, lady where is this going?"

"Okay, I'm going to have to ask you to stay here; can you contact your father by cell phone?"

"Yes."

"Please do so it is in Sammy's best interest."

"Wait, best interest, what the hell are you talking about?"

"If we find that Samuel is being abused; he will be place in a group home or a foster family, until age 18."

The lady turned on her heels and left abruptly. Dean pulled out his cell phone, finding his father's number at the top of the list. He dialed and listened to the voicemail to pickup.

Twenty minutes later he waited 10 feet from the door to his brother's room, where he was told was all the closer he could go, by the social worker. He watched as she entered through the door, and closed it behind her.

Inside the room, Sam was slowly coming around, still in a fog of pain killers and other drugs. As his eyes slowly focused he noticed a lady doctor sitting at his side, instead of his brother. He tried to speak, but ended up coughing. When the coughing subsided he asked the question, "Where's my brother? Where's Dean?"

"You are not allowed to have contact with him until we clear up a little matter."

"Little matter; what…what are you talking about?"

"Samuel you may be confused at this point in time, but please let me explain to you what has happened this evening?"

"I know what happened. Some idiot didn't know the speed limit in town or didn't know how to slow down and creamed me with his classic."

"Samuel, you have a concussion, fogging your ability to think. The doctors took multiply X-rays, finding that several ribs were broken while others were cracked. Your left shoulder was dislocated and your right arm was broken in 3 places. We need to run a cat scan soon to find if there is swelling in your brain, because of a small fracture that was also discovered."

"It's Sam, and I really would like if my brother Dean were in here."

"That's not possible, because of the bruised that have nothing to do with your accident, which is why I am with you. I'm a social worker, the doctors were in complete shock at them and also the scars on your chest that they found, and your health record states nothing of serious surgeries. I need you to tell me if your brother or father abuses you, it is in your best interest. You can be placed in a foster family or a group home until placement is found."

"What…what are you talking about? My father and brother haven't touched me. Yeah, me and my brother wrestle and shit around, but nothing that brothers don't do."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"The doctors found a scar on that starts on your chest and ends on your abdomen. Along with bruises on chest that distinctly look like hand prints. I know that you probably have forced your mind to forget them, and that's why you wear many layers of clothing to cover them up, but you need to tell me so I can help you."

"The scar is from something that happened while I was staying at a hunting cabin and Dean and Dad were in the woods, I was 13. I slept in and when I got up and went to the kitchen, some guy was trying to rob the place for what reason I don't know. He then put me in a head lock just long enough to tie my hands and feet, and tape shut my mouth. He said something about dad screwing him over in a business deal and was going to make him see me dead after a slow death. Then cut me after he left, I managed to roll over and keep pressure on it using the rug. When they got back, I told him not to take me to the hospital and to sew it up. He wouldn't but he cleaned it and bandaged it well, I ended up with the scar so that they wouldn't ask questions at the hospital as to how I got it."

"Is this the accident that your brother referred to that changed your father?"

"Possibly considering they feel I'm all they have left of our mother."

"Sam, can you tell me how she died, do you know?"

"No, all I know is she died saving me. Can I see Dean yet?"

"No, there is going to be an impeding investigation through child services." Sam moves to get out of the bed, "Sam, please don't you'll only injury yourself more." He places his feet on the ground standing as his legs crumbled beneath him. He grabs hold of the bed, lifting himself back to his feet. He looks around for a close exit, noticing the door is ajar he yells for Dean.

"Dean…Dean…help?" The lady makes a move to help him he slaps away her hands falling to the ground; Dean comes flying into the room scooping up his younger brother off the floor and helping him back into the bed.

"You alright Sammy…nothing else hurt?"

"I'm fine; she's not letting me leave though. She thinks that you or dad is hitting me, but neither of you are and never have been."

"Sammy, how'd you get the bruises then?"

"Over the weekend back in Kansas."

"Is …" Shock and disgust run across Dean's face, as Sam's eye's falling from his face to the end of the bed, "Oh my god he does."

"It wasn't bad at first, he just gets angry. I was trying to do homework late one night, and he caught me. He just slapped me at first, then this time he…it was more like slavery beatings…I just was working on homework …Dean please don't tell dad, I know he doesn't want me stay at the house while he works but…"

He cups Sam's face in his hands, "Sammy, next time I leave, you can stay with me at Josie's."

"Dean, excuse me, but your brother needs more than you taking him with you to your girlfriend's house to get over something like this."

"Lady, my brother has needed psychological help for a long time, being as he sees his mother's murder every night he sleeps, but seeing as state's not going to pay for it. He'll be fine, living with us."

"No he will not."

"Ma'am, it's not going to help, I've had premonition like dreams since I was 4. Try waking up to find your brother over you asking if you're going to be fine, you always tell him yes, but you're still terrified to go back to sleep." He rips out the IV, throwing it to the ground.

"Can you walk Sam?"

"If you help." Dean grabs his clothing, throwing it too him. Sam pulls on his jeans, and slowly removes the hospital dressing gown. Dean's eyes double in size as he sees his brother's chest covered in bruising from the accident and their uncle beating him. There was a wrap covering half of them, but was soon covered but the hooded sweat shirt that he pulled down. He picked up the socks and shoes, slowly pulling them on.

" I can not allow you to leave this facility."
"We really don't care what you're allowing, because we'll be gone come sunrise."

Sam slowly stood waiting for his brother, and they made a run for it.

10 minutes later they were sitting in the Impala on the road. "Dean, do you think dad's going to kill us for this?"

"Sam, you and I both know that we couldn't leave you in there, they would have taken you from us and put you in a foster family, and then they would have drugged you because of the nightmares."

"I know, but… never mind just drive." He picks up the cell phone, dialing there father's number, "Hey, dad it's Sam and Dean, where heading out to Illinois. Something happened; we're clearing out the stuff in the house right now. We'll see you in the morning sometime." He closes the phone, as Dean hits a bump. "Jeez, Dean easy will ya, not in the best shape over here."

"Sorry, it's just we need to get out of this town soon, before they track my plates."

"When we get to the house change them out for the Kansas plates."

"I will, you just worry about getting everything packed."

The End