DON'T PUT THIS STORY ON ALERT, IT'S A PREQUEL

The sequel is called 'Intermission' you can find it on my profile.

Thanks~

-Grace

It started when Sam told his dad he didn't believe in the monsters John chased after.

Sam was only five, and smart enough even at that age to know that they were moving around for a reason. But, maybe it wasn't so much a reason as it was a phantom evil his father had been after for as long as Sam could remember.

He decided to tell his dad this one day.

"They aren't real."

John turned from his journal; the one Sam had always tried to get his hands on so he could see for himself what his father writes into it everyday. Dean got to see it, so Sam wanted to look too.

"What are you talking about Sam?" John's voice was heavy with the growl of alcohol. He was rarely seen without a bottle of amber liquid nearby.

"The things you chase." Sam looked up at his father with determined eyes. That didn't belong on Sam, a face so much like her's.

"They're real Sam. They got Mary. And I'll kill them for it."

That calm rage, cold as ice but burning like liquid nitrogen would usually deter Sam from engaging his father again. But he was angry too.

Sam wanted his mom back sure, the woman that his father so frequently talked about and his brother so vehemently refrained from doing. The woman he didn't remember anything about but the gentle feeling of love, and the searing heat of flames.

But what Sam wanted more than anything was a father to love him and a brother that didn't look like he was hurting when the same father turned his back to go through the mystery journal and mumble about ghosts.

"No they aren't."

John had turned back towards the desk, like it was done with. Sam wasn't done, not by far, and he still had that expression that belonged to an adult. Or one he got from his mother.

But now John was forced to face his son, and not at all willing to argue.

"Sam." In Winchester terms that meant shut the hell up and go to your room.

"They aren't real!"

"Sam. Go now." Dean would've snapped to attention like a tin soldier. But that's Dean.

"No, no you aren't listening! They aren't real dad, and you keep us moving all the time for no reason, I wanna go to school like Dean, but you won't let me because of the not real things you keep saying you're gonna hurt! The didn't take mom, because They. Aren't. Real!"

Sam's little chest is heaving, hands clenched into fists and cheeks splotched an angry red.

All the while John grips the three fourths empty glass bottle, using it as an anchor because Sam's pushing it, and he's drunk, and god damn it he can't think straight while Sam is looking at him with his wife's face- and he snaps.

Sam feels a fire across his cheek, and he lands on his ass with tears streaking down his face.

It doesn't end until Sam has four more similar aches on his arms back and stomach.

When Dean gets home Sam says he fell down the stairs, because all he can remember is his father whispering to him, a hushed and furious tone, "You tell Dean and I'll send you away, so fast, you won't ever see him-" Sam can't take that, he needs his brother so he lies about the bruises and as long as Dean believes him it's fine.

The whole thing never stops after that.