It wasn't often that Dean Winchester would get a knock on the door of his motel room in the middle of the night. In fact, it was something that he couldn't remember happening to him once in the three years that he had been hunting alone. Since there wasn't a little brother or sister around anymore to forget their room key or to stumble back in from a bar at some stupid hour of the morning, there hadn't been any disturbance at all. Once everything had died down, when there was no major monsters that needed hunting, when there was no end of world situations or life threatening problems, Sam and Sara had left.

His brother, Sam, had once again left the life. He had taken another shot at college and gotten himself a place over there. He had found himself a girl and, as far as Dean knew, things were going good for him. His sister, Sara, had also met someone. She had met a guy on the job, an ex-hunter, and gotten married, the last thing that Dean had ever expected her to do. She had left the hunting career behind her to move away and live her new perfect life with her husband. And honestly, Dean couldn't have been happier for either of them.

Hunting was in Dean's blood, it was a part of him, it was all he had ever known and all he expected he would ever know. But, for his siblings, he wanted more. He wanted them to be able to live a normal and happy life, he wanted them to be safe, to be away from all the evil and pain and death that he would see every single day. He wanted them to have everything that he knew he couldn't have. As long as they were happy, as long as they were safe, Dean was content.

He pushed himself up from his bed, tossing the research on his lap aside as he crossed the room towards the door, a curious frown on his face. His green eyes caught sight of the clock on the wall as he passed, 02:34am. That was never good. Knocking on the door at a time like that could only mean one of two things; either he was going to have to kill something, or something was going to kill him.

He pulled open the door and came face to face with the last person he had ever expected to see show up at his motel room door again; his little sister. He took a moment to work out that they were six states over from where she lived, it was the early hours of the morning and she had shown up without so much as a phone call, it sure as hell wasn't going to be good news. He almost didn't want to know.

"Sara." he said simply, more shock in his voice than anything else.

Dean looked her up and down slowly. She wore black jeans and boots with a light grey t-shirt, covered with a small black jacket that she held around herself, her arms folded tightly around her middle to shield herself from the cold wind behind her. She appeared blank at first, completely void of emotion, her blue eyes empty of anything that even resembled life. Her skin was pale against her black hair, she almost appeared like a ghost. But that wasn't what caught Dean's attention. It wasn't the utterly shattered look on her face that he could clearly identify behind the stoic front she had on, it wasn't the bloodshot red of her eyes or the dark circles beneath them. It wasn't even her split lip or the deep blue bruise around her left eye. What caught him off guard the most was the amount of true pain he could feel coming from her. Without her even speaking a single word to him, he could feel it. He could feel her despair in his own chest, deep within him, as though it was coming straight off her and hitting him where he stood.

"What's wrong?" he asked, the level of worry clear in his words. But she didn't give an answer.

She took a step into the room and straight into his arms, the unexpected force of it almost knocking him back a couple of steps. Her arms wrapped around his middle tightly as her hands gripped to the back of his shirt, like she was afraid to let go.

Slowly, once the initial shock had subsided, Dean brought up his arms to rest around her, matching her strong hold with his own strength. He could feel how stiff she was, pretty sure that she wasn't even breathing anymore, and that only meant one thing; she was fighting back her tears with everything she had in her.

"Sara?" Dean tried again, his voice softer, obviously concerned as to what was going on with her, about what had his youngest sibling so upset.

She didn't do anything at all for a moment, not moving or speaking, before she pulled back enough to face him. She pushed up a small smile through the tears that shone in her eyes. "Hey." she said lightly, more of a hushed whisper than anything else, he barely even heard it.

"Hey." Dean answered, nothing but lost. "Sara, what are you doing here?" he asked, studying her face for some kind of an answer. He brought back one of his hands to hold her chin gently between his finger and thumb, tilting her head back enough that he could get a better look at her face. "What happened to you?" he asked softly, frowning a little.

Sara took a step back from him, looking down at the floor. "I just fell." she muttered, not even sounding like she believed her own words.

"You just fell?" Dean repeated skeptically. He narrowed his eyes at her, she could tell that he was obviously not in the slightest bit convinced. "Sara," he pressed. "What happened to you?" She could hear the impatience in his tone, pretty sure that it was being spurred on by pure concern. "What the hell are you doing here, huh? Where's Brad?"

He knew his sister, and it wasn't like her to do anything like this, it hadn't been for years. She wouldn't have just walked out on her own husband in the middle of the night to see him without a good reason, especially without calling first. But then he thought, he couldn't remember that last time that she had called him. When she had first gone they were on the phone with each other all the time, whether that was her moaning about how she missed the life or hated her job, or him needing a second opinion on a case, it hadn't mattered. But in time, she had stopped being the one to call first. And then their conversations had become rushed, like she wasn't supposed to be talking to him at all, and he had never understood what had happened there.

Sara looked down for a moment and shrugged. "We're, uh," she paused, as though she was thinking what to tell him. "We're taking a break."

"A break?" Dean repeated incredulously. If he hadn't been skeptical before, he sure as hell was now. "For how long?"

She wet her lips, avoiding eye contact with him all together. "Permanently." she replied simply.

Dean raised his eyebrows at her quizzically. "And, does he know that you're taking this break? Or did you just leave in the middle of the night without saying so?" he asked lightly, trying to act like the whole situation wasn't giving him the dreaded feeling that it was. But when she didn't answer him, when she couldn't answer him, Dean knew. "Sara, what is going on? Tell me, please."

"I left him." she muttered, turning her back to him, unable to face him any longer. She didn't want to see the look on his face when it all clicked and he worked it out.

"What?" he frowned. "Why?"

It didn't make sense. The last time that he had seen them they had appeared to be nothing but happy. Too happy, almost. He remembered thinking at the time that it was a little strange how much his sister seemed to be acting like she wanted to convince him that she was happy with him. Normally, she would have been complaining about something or taking a playful dig at him, she never had a care in the world when Dean was around, but the last time he had seen her she had been so different. She hadn't been herself. And Dean had brushed it off and put it down to stress or the fact that she probably missed hunting, but now he wasn't so sure. It dawned on him, she wasn't happy.

"Is he," Dean paused, he didn't want to say it, he didn't even want to think it, but there it was. He needed to know. "Is he something to do with those bruises?" She didn't move a muscle at his question, she didn't turn to face him or defend her husband, she just stood there and faced the wall at the opposite side of the room. "Sara, did he hit you?"

For a moment, he thought that she was going to deny it, that he was going to have to fight a confession out of her, the way he usually would, but she just nodded. It was small and almost non-existent, but it was there, and Dean saw it. And he saw red.

"How long?" he pushed out the words through gritted teeth, fighting the urge to punch the wall in some attempt to let out the anger that ran through him. "How long has he been hitting you? I mean, was that the first time?" He prayed to god that she would say yes, but she didn't. She shook her head slowly. "How long?"

"Dean," she tried, in a way that was begging for him not to make her talk about it. But Dean didn't care anymore, he needed to know.

"Don't even attempt to change the subject here, Sara." he said bluntly. "And don't even dare try lying to me about this. Does he do this to you often?"

"No," she shook her head, speaking as though none of it was a big deal to her. "Not often."

Dean narrowed his eyes at her, frowning. "But this isn't the first time?" he pressed, to which she said nothing, just sighed in defeat. "How often does he hit you, Sara? What? Once a week? Once a month?" She could hear him getting worked up, his voice was raising with every word that left his mouth. "How often?!"

"Dean -" she tried again, but he wasn't having it. He wasn't taking lies or excuses. Not this time.

"Answer the damn question, Sara." he demanded, his tone turning harsh.

Sara finally managed to turn to him and meet his gaze, more out of shock than anything else, and clenched her jaw. She couldn't lie to him, she never had been able to lie to him. She didn't look upset, she didn't look angry or afraid, she just looked tired. "About a year." she whispered, her voice cracked at the words. "And you know what? I don't even know why he does it to me."

Dean's face went from angry to pure, unadulterated fury. "A year?!" He pulled a hand down his face before his hands dropped to his hips, shaking his head. "And you didn't think to pick up the friggin' phone and say something? He's been beating you for an entire year and you didn't think to speak up and leave him?!" he yelled, he was becoming madder by the second. "How stupid can you get, Sara?! He could have killed you!"

"Dean, please -" Tears shone in her eyes, he was the one person that she just couldn't take to be yelled at by. Anyone else she would stare in the face and brush it off, no matter what they said, but she had never been able to take Dean being angry at her.

"I'm gonna kill him." he thundered, his anger almost through the roof. "I'm gonna rip him apart, I swear."

"Dean -" she tried again, but he was too far gone to calm down.

"Why the hell would you stay there?" he asked, his voice lowering, almost sounding desperate for an answer, like he wanted to understand. His sister had never, ever, been someone who would let people push her around. He had never known anyone take a swing at her and not have one thrown back. He couldn't understand it. "Tell me."

Sara looked down, she didn't want to say it. "Because," she looked down and shook her head. "I loved him." she answered, her voice small, she almost sounded ashamed of herself for admitting it.

Dean scoffed. "Oh, you loved him?" he said incredulously, like it was the last thing he could ever believe.

"Yes," she snapped. "I did love him."

Dean shook his head, he looked angry again. "So why now, huh?" he pressed. "Why walk out now?"

"Because," she stopped herself before she could say anything more, the tears finally spilling over and falling down her cheeks. It was only then that Dean realised how much she was actually hurting, she looked terrified. "I'm pregnant, Dean." she whispered, her voice breaking over the words. "I found out yesterday."

His face completely changed at that. The colour completely drained from his face, leaving him a pale white shade. His green eyes slowly moved down from his face to her flat stomach, staring at her in disbelief.

"Does he know?" his voice was quiet, the level of shock almost stopping the words from coming out at all.

Sara shook her head slowly. "No," she murmured. "And he isn't going to know. I'm not having someone like him around a kid, Dean. Not a chance."

"And I'm not having someone like him around my sister." he countered, his tone once again turning defensive. "I meant what I said, Sara. He's gonna get what's coming to him. I promise you that."

"Dean, please," she almost begged him, taking a step forwards to grab his arm before he could even think to make a move anywhere. "Just, not tonight, okay? I need -" she stopped herself, shaking her head. But he knew what she meant.

"Yeah, yeah, you're right." he said softly, nodding. "C'mere." With that he pulled her into a hug and wrapped his arms around her tightly. "I've got you, I'm gonna look after you." he said gently, resting his chin to the top of her head. "Both of you." He tightened his arms around her, reassuring her that everything was going to be okay, promising without having to say another word that no one would ever lay a hand on her again. And she believed him because, for the first time in a long time, she felt safe.