So this is my first fanfic on here. I hope you guys like it! It's sorta a branch off of the original story line but doesn't really get that way until a couple chapters in. You'll have to read the story to get what I mean. :P Anyways comment if you want and let me know what you think. Enjoy! :3

~Chapter 1~

"Get over here you little shit!" John slurred.

"Dad, come on, I'm sorry! It won't happen again! I Swear to god, it won't!" a frightened ten year old Dean said as he pressed his back up against the motel bathroom wall. He didn't really know what he had done to make his father so angry, but whatever it was he regretted it completely now. The tall stocky figure of his parent stood a mere foot away from him holding a brown leather belt in his large, rough hand. Dean knew that it was no use pleading with the man. He was drunk and pissed, which meant there was no stopping the inevitable beating that was coming.

"Like hell it won't! Do you know how hard I fucking try to keep you safe? Huh? I don't even know why I bother! You worthless boy!"

John delivered the first of many swift kicks to his son's abdomen, causing the young boy to drop to the floor in pain. What cruel punishment was this? He wondered. He had lost his beloved wife and had been left with an idiot for a son. The only thing he had was his little Sammy. The bouncing six year old, who was the only joy left in his miserable life. He lifted Dean off the floor by his collar and got very close to his face, close enough that their noses were touching.

"The only thing I ask of you is to keep your brother safe! And what do you do? WHAT DO YOU DO? You let him get hurt! You let him lose his mother! Why didn't you protect her? Why couldn't it have been you that died in that fire?" he hissed.

So that was what this was about, thought Dean. He should have known. That was why his father's breath smelled ten times more rancid and alcohol filled than usual. It was the anniversary of Mary's death. Dean had always tried to forget this particular date, because it brought so much pain and sadness. Sure, he'd only been four at the time, but that didn't mean he missed his mother any less that his dad did. He closed his eyes and whispered a shaky 'I'm sorry' before he felt his shirt being ripped off his back and the sting of harsh leather striking across it.

Dean woke with a start. Sweat covered his brow, making it gleam slightly in the morning light. He blinked several times, trying to bring himself back to reality. That had been the forth night in a row he'd experienced that flashback. It was rather unnerving. Though he rarely went a evening without a nightmare, he hardly ever had the same one more than once a month. Plus, out of all the beatings he'd received from his father, that certainly hadn't been the worst, so why was it plaguing him so thoroughly? Dean simply shook his head and turned to look at his brother sleeping soundly in the bed next to him. He watched as his sibling's chest rose and fell lazily, completely oblivious to the world and it's troubles. The elder Winchester hated to wake him up but it was nearly ten and Dean wanted to be out of town by noon. He heaved himself off the mattress and shook Sam's shoulders.

"Sammy" he said gruffly. "Sammy, dude get up."

Sam shifted his position and grunted, slapping away Dean's hands. Dean sighed and tried again.

"Sam. Come on..." Nothing.

"Sammy..." Still no answer.

Dean huffed.

"SAM! GET YOUR ASS OUT OF BED RIGHT NOW BEFORE I POUR A BUCKET OF FREEZING COLD HOLY WATER ON YOUR HEAD!"

"Fine! Fine. Jerk" mumbled a sleepy Sam.

"Bitch" Dean sighed, but smirked satisfied.

He padded into the washroom and peeled off his clothes. Jumping into the shower, he turned the tap to hot and stood in silence. The water stung slightly and he winced at the intensity of it. He could still feel a gentle tingle in each of the scars that lay across his back, even though the freshest ones had been healed for a good number of months now. For a moment, as his body adjusted to the heat, he felt calm. Like the horrible memories where simply being washed away by the warm liquid pouring over his skin. However that feeling was short lived as a knock on the door interrupted his peace only seconds later.

"Dean!" called a groggy Sam. "Hurry up. I want to get clean too."

"Alright Sammy! Chill out. You on your man period or something?" Dean retorted sarcastically.

"Don't call me that" Sam tried to sound angry but he was to tired to make it convincing. His older brother quickly finished up and dried off, wriggling into his clothes as he opened the door.

"It's all yours man" he said stepping out casually. "Don't take forever in there though Samantha. I know your hair has to be perfect, but I wanna get outta this place ASAP."

Sam shot his brother an annoyed glance before shutting and locking the bathroom door. The truth of the matter was Dean really hated the thoughts that this town provoked. They had just finished up a case that had involved an abused child named Max. Sammy had mentioned something after closing the job that made his stomach churn.

"Well I'll tell you one thing" said Sam. "We're lucky we had Dad."

"I never thought I'd hear you say that" Dean replied nervously.

"Well, it coulda gone a whole other way after Mom. I little more tequila and a little less demon hunting and we coulda had Max's childhood. All things considered, we turned out ok. Thanks to him."

"Yea... All things considered."