The sleek black body of the Impala zooms down a stretch of open road, with the sixteen-year-old Dean Winchester behind the wheel. He'd gotten the black beauty about three months ago for his sixteenth birthday when his dad decided he and Sam could stay by themselves longer than a couple of months and that they would need a way to move is the happiest he's been since getting the car, on the open road breaking nearly all the speed limits, but there wasn't anyone around but him to care. His dad is about to leave him and Sam in another new location, and he's glad. John has been turning to the bottle more than usual lately, and that wasn't good for either him nor his brother because John got violent; leaving more than the occasional bruise. And even though Dean's having the time of his life with his baby, he can't help but worry about leaving Sam alone with their dad, even on this short supply run because Sam always got the worst of it. Not only that, but the way dad practically forced him out the door after he caught Sam working on some school project when he was supposed to be training with Dean, and pretended not to be mad about it. But he saw behind the mask of calm was anger, they both had tried to defend Sam, telling Dad that it was his fault, that he told Sam that he could work for another couple of minutes, all while purposefully standing between his little brother and father. However, as always, John just pushed Dean aside telling him to stop taking blame for his brother's mistakes, then telling him to go on a supply run. The only reason he didn't fight or ask questions this time is because last time it just made things worse, so he snathed the offered money and left, leaving Sam with John with nothing but a face of ' I'll be back soon, promise'. Knowing just a look wouldn't make anything better, but it was something, right?So some might say Dean isn't speeding for his own amusement, but he was speeding to get to his his brother with the fun just an added bonus.

He comes to a fast stop in the dirt driveway of their temporary home situated in the middle of some trees, with the next neighbors across the lake. Some family Dad had helped is letting them stay here for free until the summer, so they're here for a lot longer than they would usually stay anywhere. The small vacation house is well kept, the brown paint on its wooden exterior looking pretty new, and they each got their own bedroom, and it is only ten minutes from town,so neither of them minded, especially Sam. Sam is thrilled to be able to stay in one school until the end. Dean smirks, yep little geeky Sammy excited about school. He himself couldn't care less about school at this point, just another year and he's home free. Turning off the engine,He climbs out the driver's seat with two plastic bags in hand from his trip into town. He didn't really grab much, just enough for he and Sam to last a couple of days. Dean walks past the empty space where his dad's new monster of a truck was before he left. ' So, maybe Dad left without giving Sam a hard time', he hopes to himself as he advances up the porch steps. He shifts both bags to the same hand and unlocks the light brown door with his key before pushing it open. As soon as he steps beyond the threshold everything feels...wrong. Broken furniture and glass litter the floor, and Sam is nowhere in sight. " Sam!", he yells his voice echoing through the entire one-floor house as he drops the bags and draws his gun. Without any idea of who or what caused this, he prepares for the worst. Slowly he walks through the house, scanning his gun in each dark corner. When he finally makes his way to the back, where the bathroom is he notices the light seeping through the closed door. Quieter this time he calls his brother in a normal speaking voice.

It takes a while but then he hears a low whimper, " P-please, s-s-stop,"

That's all it takes for Dean to realize who'd destroyed the house like this; their dad. And on the other side of that door is no doubt Sam, and the kid doesn't just sound scared like he usually would, but he sounds straight horrified. He presses his forehead on the door so that he could be heard when he speaks softly, " Sammy, it's me, it's Dean.", and he feels he should add, " Dad's gone, it's just me."

It's low and almost whisper like, but he hears Sam respond, " Dean", hopefully.

The older brother opens the door and holsters his gun, stepping into the bathroom. When he gets a look at his brother Dean could have sworn that his jaw hit the floor. Sam is in the far corner hiding between the bathtub and wall, with his face hidden by his knees, which are folded to his chest with his arms hugging them, and he's rocking back and forth. The white tiled floor is tainted with blood, and there are bloodied gauze right by Sam. Dean rushes over to his injured little brother as Sam slowly lifts his head exposing angry bruises on his cheek and opposite eye. Dean comes to a stop on one knee right in front of Sam. " Sammy, are you bleeding", he says trying and failing to stop his voice from shaking. He notices how unfocused, Sam's eyes are looking; probably a concussion. Dean puts his palms on both of Sam's cheeks, feeling the warmth radiating off of him, and forces the younger's eyes to meet his. " Is that your blood, Sam.", he asks again, pushing Sam's knees away from his chest, no blood there, so where is it coming from? Sam hold his hand out to Dean, showing his palm loosely wrapped in a bled through bandage. The older brother thumbs Sam's silent falling tears, " What else", Dean questions taking note of how Sam is keeping a protective arm around his ribs.

" M' head and ribs", he answers shakily taking short panicky breaths, and letting his trembling hand droop to the floor.

" Hey, hey, Sammy everything's alright, I'm gonna fix you up, okay.", Dean softly whispers to his little brother, attempting to calm him, " Let me have a look at that hand."

Sam once again holds his hand out, and Dean slides the wrap off. To himself, he swears at the still flowing blood. ' Shit this definitely needs stitches'. He stands up to retrieve the med kit from its place in the mirror's cabinet, then returns back to Sam, sitting crisscrossed on the floor. He opens the white metal box, grabs fresh gauze, and holds it down on Sam's palm. " You wanna tell me what happened?", he asks already knowing the answer, yet still wanting to be wrong.

Sam's breathing is calmer than before, but still a bit panicked. He wanted to tell Dean like he always did, but this time was much worse than it's ever been, his mind just wouldn't put it in words. " He was really angry", he manages to choke out, clearing his teary eyes with his uninjured hand.

" I know", Dean prepares the necessary supplies to sew Sam's hand closed. He sees that talking about the incident is just making the kid upset again, so he says, " We can talk about it later". He himself is trying to hold his anger toward their dad, knowing Sam needed him to at least seem calm, so he could keep himself together.

He displays the threaded needle to Sam, showing him what needs to be done. The little brother becomes hysterical, trying to pull his hand away, but Dean won't let him. He stops pulling and instead tries to talk his way out of it, " Please Dean, no", he begs with his best ' you just kicked my puppy' face.

" You know I have to Sammy," Dean says avoiding eye contact, because if he looked into those eyes, Sam would win. He takes the kid's unharmed hand and places it on his own forearm, squeezing tightly he asks" Remember what to do?", Sam nods having given up on trying not to cry, so now the tears are now freely falling.

As Dean works on closing the wound, Sam does as he always does when it hurts to be fixed up by his brother and digs his nails into Dean's skin. The younger keeps his eyes shut, tight as the older works as quickly as he can without compromising neatness. He doesn't even mind the fact that Sam is squeezing so hard it's drawing blood, anything to make it better for Sammy. Before long Dean finishes, putting some ointment on first before rewrapping the hand with a fresh bandage.

"See, not that bad," Dean says, stilling his brother's freshly repaired shaking hand. He swipes the small amount of blood from his arm, " you need to cut your nails, Samantha."

Sam replaces his arm where it was, wrapped around his ribs. " Sorry", he mumbles, wincing.

There wasn't a point to apologizing, so Dean ignores it, " You said your chest hurts right?". Sam confirms with a nod. " Kay, shirt off.", he commands with his hands gripping the bottom of Sam's shirt, which has spots of blood from his hand on it. The older brother helps the younger get his arms out, carefully maneuvering around Sam's suspected injuries. Even though Sam can barely get his hands above his shoulders they manage to get the shirt off together, but Dean isn't nearly ready for what was underneath. Bruises litter Sam's upper chest as if he was kicked over and over again, and it was the same for his gut but the bruises are even worse. He pulls Sam off the wall to check his back, finding footprints. Dad freakin' stomped on Sam, this is way past too far. Once again Dean had to keep his anger in check, for Sam. " Sammy.", he breathes out.

The kid's breaths are now more like pants as if taking his shirt off sucked all his leftover energy. Sam knew exactly what Dean was thinking even though his face looked calm, but he knew his brother, " He wouldn't stop, Dean." He makes his tear-filled eyes meet Dean's watery ones. " I begged, but…", he looks away embarrassed that he's crying like this, " He said I deserved this, that I need to learn."

Okay, that's enough! He forces Sam to look at him again, " No Sam, you didn't deserve this, and don't you go thinking you did, ever."

" Okay," Sam says bowing his head even though he doesn't agree.

Dean starts feeling the various bruises, beginning with Sam's ribs; most bruised, none broken. He then moves to the kid's back, pulling him off the wall again, and checking to make sure its nothing more but extremely sore. Each time he feels Sam flinch in pain, he shoots him a 'sorry' look. When he's sure Sam's back is okay, he moves to his gut. He presses down on the bruise on the kid's left side, as he does so Sam hyperventilates, more so than before. He starts to say that he is almost done, but before he can say a word Sam's eyes roll back, and he slouches forward limply onto Dean's shoulder. " Dammit", Dean curses, his suspicion of Sam having a concussion confirmed. He cradles Sam's head and gently lies him on the ground before softly clapping his cheek, forcing a smile when Sam looks up at him confused, moments later. " You with me kid?"

Sam tries to nod but it just makes the spinning worse, " ...m' jus' dizzy"

" I'm almost done, think you can stay awake for me?"

The younger nods, swallowing the vomit that threatens its way up as tears spill out his eyes and roll to his ears. Dean presses down on the last gut bruise, becoming even more worried as he feels its rigidness. Okay hospital, now. He stands up off the bathroom floor, says that he'll be back to Sam, then quickly goes to his temporary bedroom to fetch one of his zip-up hoodies before returning to Sam. Getting back on one knee first, he lifts Sam to a sitting position. " Here put this on,". He helps each arm in and then zips it up while making sure Sam stays upright. " Can you walk?", he asks already knowing that even if the kid can't he'll say he can.

" ...mhmm." He says trying to get on his feet himself, but ultimately needing his brother's help since the world is spinning.

They get a total of two steps in, with Sam leaning heavily against Dean before his knees buckle, his older brother catching him before his face meets the floor. Determining that Sam can't walk himself and that they need to move faster than this he easily picks Sam up, holding him bridal style. " D'n, m' n't a baby," Sam whines.

Dean grins at Sam's complaint, " Could've fooled me"

The older brother moves them both through the destroyed house, " Where we goin'," Sam asks once he realizes they are walking towards the Impala.

Dean opens the passenger side door with the hand under his brother's back, " We gotta get you checked out by a doctor.", he answers before placing Sam on his side of the bench seat.

He loops around the front of the car, sweeping his hand across the hood as he goes. He opens the driver side door and slides in, wasting no time starting the engine. As he starts down the dirt road Sam huffs out in one breath, " No doctor", as he leans against the cool window.

Dean turns the car onto the main road, seven minutes to go. He knows Sam has a more than slight fear of hospitals, so it's understandable, " I just want to make sure you're fine.", he says purposefully leaving out how he could be internally bleeding. " You trust me right?"

" I trus' you D'n", Sam says, his eyes drooping closed again.

" Good", the older brother reaches over and ruffles Sam's hair, " Stay awake for me"

The rest of the ride is spent with Dean talking to Sam to keep the kid awake even though he wasn't talking back. Dean pulls the car to a screeching stop at the end of the emergency room loop where ambulances usually park, seconds later he pockets the car keys. He practically jumps out the car and runs to Sam's side, opening the door and carrying him like before. Sam's head rests on his brother's chest and his arm hangs limply. " Still with me little brother", Dean whispers to Sam.

The younger brother pushes his head further into Dean's body, " No, m' tired.", he whines like the child he still is, with his brows creased.

" You can sleep now Sam, Everything will be fine when you wake up.", and with that Sam closes his eyes and his stress lines fade. Dean marches through the automatic doors, shouting for help.

It takes less than a minute for a couple of nurses and a doctor to bring a stretcher over that Dean places Sam on. The doctor barks orders toward the nurses then turns to Dean asking a question that honesty is just background noise to him. He's brought back to the present by a firm, " Sir, did you hear me, I said what happened here."

Dean swallows the lump in his throat, then clears it, " Bullies,", he chokes out as the first thing he can think of, speaking without taking his eyes off of Sam.

The doctor unzips the too big hoodie, glancing at the kid's injuries, then at the other kid in front of him, " Bullies?", he confirms with disbelief. Dean nods, thinking about it a bully really did do this, the tormentor just happens to be his father. " Okay, just wait there.", he motions to the waiting room, " fill out the paperwork, and someone will come get you shortly."

Sam is then wheeled away, and Dean is left feeling useless. He decides the best thing to do first is get himself cleaned up in the bathroom since he still had red stained hands from fixing his brother up, so he follows the sign that leads him there. Once in the bathroom he goes to a sink a turns the water on, taking a second to stop and take a breath before letting the flowing water wash the blood away. And he hadn't noticed it before, but his hands are shaking. Dean quickly turns the faucet off, then uses both wet hands to cover his face. In his pocket, his phone buzzes, almost startling him. He fishes the device from his pants, flips it open, and glances at the caller ID; it's Dad. He stares as the phone continues to ring, contemplating whether he should answer or not. He presses the green button then puts the phone to his ear, " Hel-"

" The hell are you boys?', John speaks on the other end not letting Dean finish, having just gotten to the house to find it empty.

" Uh, the hospital," Dean says in a no-duh kind of way. Why wouldn't they be at the hospital with the way John had left Sam.

" Why?'', the father gruffly interrogates honestly no idea why his sons would go.

Okay, that's Dean's breaking point, first Dad beats the shit out of Sam, then he calls him oblivious to how bad the kid is hurt because he'd just left him there, probably to go to some bar at that. " Why, why, I don't know Dad maybe because you beat Sam to hell, and just left him there on the freakin' bathroom floor!"

John is taken aback by his oldest's boldness toward him. " Dean…", he warns.

" Do you even care, like at all." , Dean continues his rant in a low growl.

John audibly grins with a huff, " You're just overreacting like you always do when it comes to that boy."

" No, as a matter of fact, I'm not, he could barely keep himself conscious", Dean argues, shouting this time.

" As a matter of fact'', John mocks, " You are. So, listen closely, I want you back here, with your brother, in no more than two hours, or else I'm coming to get you and beating the smart ass outta you, understand."

" No " he shouts into the phone," You listen, Sam and I we're leaving, don't look for us, and if we ever see your sorry ass again, I'm calling the cops.", he threatens back, surprised at the sudden braveness he's granted, before hanging up. Moments later, out of anger, he chucks his cellphone at the wall, screaming as he does so. He gives himself another minute or two to regain his composure, then heads back to the waiting area, picking up the required paperwork on the way. He fills in the blanks, easily as if it were his own information, and purposefully leaving some parts that way. Then he prepares himself for the long wait of worrying about his little brother that is to come.