Okay, it's been a real long time since I really wrote anything. I don't know how many chaps this will be at the end.

This story is set pre-series. Sam is 16ish and Dean is 20ish…

Hope you enjoy!

SPN

It was on again. The same damn bickering he had heard the last ten years. Over and over again, never ending, never really changing. Ever since his kid brother had turned six, he had been up against their dad. Always questioning, always commenting, always ready to pick a fight.

And it was driving Dean out of his mind. He was unbelievably tired of it all, because he was always the one left to mend their relationship back together.

"You know what?" Sammy's voice echoed throughout the house they were squatting in, "The way you're trying to find mom's killer, the way you've spent the last sixteen years… It's unhealthy! It's madness and you should know it! Healthy people move on!"

The words cut through the first floor, and they cut deep into Dean's soul. Sure, it was their dad who was the boss when it came to what they hunted and when they hunted. But he knew he wanted to kill the son of a bitch just as much as his old man. The damn thing had killed his mother! And Sam's mother… Sometimes he wondered whether Sam was better off not knowing their mom. Even though she had been all golden and pure, the perfect mom…

He heard something clatter on the floor. It sounded like if someone had flipped over a table full of things. And knowing their dad, that would be exactly what happened…

Dean pushed himself to a sitting position on his makeshift bed. (A couch with two seats… And a tall chair to rest his left leg on…) He winced as pain shot up through his leg. A foul landing a couple of weeks back still caused him great grief. His knee was all colors between black and yellow, which included blue, pink, red, green, grey and purple. And to top that off, it was almost twice the size of his right one.

He looked towards the door to the kitchen, where family war number 265 was in the making. He really wasn't up for this. He was so damn tired… So damn exhausted…
But if he only stayed there, it would probably end in a burial… Given his family's skills it was almost a certainty…

Dean pulled himself to his feet, it was agonizing and he bit back a yelp as his left leg protested. He cussed under his breath and fiddled through his pocket for the small orange container. He popped a pill into his mouth and swallowed it dry. They weren't quite sure whether it was Vicodin or Percocet or whatever… But it took the edge off, so all was good.

He growled as he started limping heavily towards the door. They were yelling on the other side of the door, Dean did no longer focus on the words flying back and forth similar to knives being thrown.

He gritted his teeth as he grabbed a hold of the handle, he had to place a lid over his pain. There was no use in letting their father know that his knee still wasn't up to speed. It had been almost a month for heaven's sake…

"I hate you!" Sammy yelled out for their father.

"You don't know what you're saying, Brat!" John countered, and Dean thanked higher powers that their dad was sober. "You'll know when you go through hardship yourself!"

"Like I've never had a rough time?" Sam growled back, "Most kids my age worry 'bout zits, grades and school! I worry 'bout 'Am I gonna get shot tonight at the hunt?' or 'Are my brother gonna get hurt?' or 'Are we gonna have to rely on a fake insurance this week, are we gonna need the hospital this week?' Yeah, I've never know hardship!"

"You don't know nothing!" John basically hollered.

"I know enough to know that this isn't right! This is not how life is supposed to be!"

Dean opened the door and moved silently over to the so-called kitchen table. It looked like it had been thrown away seven times, and found in a dumpster by some unlucky bastard each and every time…

Dean cleared his throat and prepared to shout. "Stop it!"

Neither his brother or his father reacted. They were too busy stabbing each other with insults to care about anything else that what was right in front of them.

"Stop it!" Dean yelled again, this time a little louder. Neither of them flinched.

Dean sighed. He knew what it would take to break up the fight, but he was not happy about it…

Just as John was about to grab a hold of Sammy's shoulder, Dean stepped between them. He used himself as a human shield between his ignorant father and his angry brother. His dad ended up grabbing a hold of his shoulder instead, throwing him a bit off balance.

Dean doubled over as his knee lit up like a firework. The one misstep made his stomach roll. He couldn't keep from letting out a sharp cry, he wasn't the master over it.

"Dean!" Sammy snapped out of arguing with their dad immediately.

His dad shoved him away, sending Dean to the floor in a heap.

Dean curled in on himself, bracing his aching left knee with all his might. First then did his father understand that he had done something wrong.

"Oh crap, Dean!" John threw himself down beside his oldest, the quarrel between himself and his youngest already forgotten.

But Dean had more than enough with focusing on not passing out, so he didn't answer.

"Are you hurt, son?" His father's hands patted over his body in search for blood or anything obviously wrong.

"He wouldn't collapse like that if he wasn't!" Sammy bit back.

"What is it Ace?" John brushed a rugged hand through Dean's hair. "What hurts?"

My damn knee! Dean wasn't able to utter the words, but he figured the way he was clinging on to it might reveal it anyway… At least he hoped so…

John continued to pat Dean down, but froze when a slight touch to his son's knee caused the boy to cry out in pain.

"When did you bust your knee?" he asked confused, debating how bad a father he was to have overlooked something like this. It was clear to him that this wasn't a fresh injury. Dean's knee was too swollen and hot for that…

"Didn't he sport a limp after the hunt in Milwaukee?" Sammy asked, trying to help.

John looked up as it dawned on him. Then he looked down at Dean, who laid on the ground clutching his leg with tears rolling down his cheeks as he nodded to what Sammy had said.

John shook his oldest son's shoulder slightly to get his attention. When Dean stilled a little he locked eyes with him. "Milwaukee?"

Dean nodded and let out a sob.

"Shit, Ace… That's almost a month ago…" John Winchester felt awful, his son had gone with an aching leg, a bad one by the looks of it, and he had been oblivious to it… "Has it been this bad all along?"

John felt his heart shattering when Dean held still for a couple of seconds before he nodded.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"No insurance?" Dean managed to bite out in a shaky voice.

"Yeah, but we fixed that two weeks ago…" John felt frustrated, why did his son feel the need to suffer through this instead of mentioning it to him? "Let's get you to the hospital…"

Dean shook his head, and both Sammy and their dad stared at him.

"Tomorrow…" he pleaded as he slowly gained control of his voice and body.

John sighed and looked at his watch. It was nearly 3 a.m. The ER would be packed at this hour on a Saturday night.

"Okay… Tomorrow…" John sighed, "Sammy, can you help me get your brother to bed?"

Sammy nodded and ducked under Dean's left arm while John took the right side.

SPN

Okay, hope you enjoyed the first chapter. And that my writing didn't come off as too rusty for y'all…