Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters

Authors note: I'll be putting this on every chapter as a little side note. People also call her Tess because every time they said Mercy it reminds her of Meg and Balthazar. (who I ship)

Side Note: My name is Mercy Teresa Persephone Masters, I was only 4 when my parents, Balthazar Novak and Meg Masters, went missing. I used to live in Lawrence, Kansas but ever since they went missing I moved to Sioux Falls, South Dakota with my abusive uncle Crowley Masters.

It's been 15 years since they disappeared and each year is filled with new scars from uncle. It has come to the point that I can no longer wear a bikini or short-sleeved shirts because of the scars from cigarette burns, whips, and the couple of times in the past year where he cut me deep enough for stitches. He always makes me say I was mugged and I even have to file fake police reports.

Punished

As her shift ended at the roadhouse, Mercy waved by to her friends while getting into her car. Once in the car she realized that Crowley wasn't working late and he was going to be pissed that she stayed out past curfew. With a heavy sigh and not trying to think about what Crowley would do to her when she got home, she turned on the radio and drove home humming to Hey Jude by The Beatles.

Hey Jude, don't make it bad,
Take a sad song and make it better.
Remember to let her into your heart,

Then you can start to make it better.

Jude, don't be afraid,
You were made to go out and get her.
The minute you let her under your skin,
Then you begin to make it better.

When she pulled into her drive she shut the car off and slowly climbed out it. With shaky legs she walked into the house, only to be met with Crowley yelling in an English, slurred voice "Where the hell have you been!" She rounded the corner that led into the living room and said in a small voice, "I was at work." She noticed Crowley stand up and dropped her gaze so he wouldn't think she was challenging him. "Yeah, I forgot you're a whore like your mother." He said in a menacing voice. After he took a swig of his beer, he raised his hand and slapped her across the face splitting her cheek open with his spiked ring. She reached up to hold her cheek when he grabbed her wrist and examined her scraped palm.

He looked at her with an evil glint in his eyes when he noticed the scrape on her hand. He took his beer bottle and poured the alcohol over the scrape causing a pained yelp to escape her lips. "See little whore, you need to be punished for being late." Crowley said while letting go of her wrist to go to the cupboard under the stairs. She knew what he kept in there. He kept his alcohol and her punishment tools which included: cigarettes (plus the lighter), a large knife collection, a cricket bat, a high heel with the heel sharpened, and what I feared most the whip with a butterfly knife at the tip.

She shuddered at the thought when she heard Crowley yell "Get your ass upstairs and set up the protective sheet then wait for me!" She stuttered out a 'Yes sir' before disappearing upstairs and going into the study and got the sheet out that was already stained with blood. As she laid it out, she silently prayed to God that she would be protected from Crowley. Then, she heard Crowley's heavy footsteps coming upstairs. She tensed up not wanting him to come in the door. But there he was with her punishment. She quietly sat down in the middle of the sheet when he walked in with the whip, cigarettes, and alcohol.

He shut the door before making his way towards the desk placing the cigarettes down along with the alcohol. She let out a small whimper as he made his way towards her "Now you will know true pain." He said with a mischievous grin going across his face. And at that moment he lifted the whip and sent it cracking down against my thigh. She screamed out in pain and that seemed to ignite the fire in his eyes because it was 10 long, pain-filled minutes before he moved toward the desk to switch his means of 'punishment'.

She carefully turned to count how many new scars she had to clean out and stitch together. As she counted, she could barely notice Crowley grab the cigarettes and make his way towards her. 22 new scars she counted and all oozing blood though a couple had stopped. She could tell that some where deep enough for her to have to go the hospital. Then she felt a fresh wave of pain as Crowley placed his freshly lit cigarette against one of her deepest cuts. After 5 minutes of him burning her with cigarettes, she cautiously opened my eyes as she saw him reach for the alcohol.

She let a sigh of relief escape leave her lips; 'good he's done' she thought to herself. She let herself slump over so her sobs of pain couldn't aggravate him. She was at ease except for the pain when she felt a cold liquid being poured over her cuts causing a fresh spark of pain. She realized that the cold liquid was alcohol being poured on her. Then the empty bottle came crashing down onto her bare back causing her to wail in pain.

"I'm done, whore!" Crowley spat at her. It was the last thing he said to her before going into his bedroom and slamming the door.

With tears in her eyes, whip marks on her, cigarette burns in the whip marks, and bloody glass in her back she slowly dragged her bloody form out if the room and towards the front door, she thought to herself 'Maybe now the pain will go away permanently'.

Once she rounded the corner of her block she saw a blurred figure up ahead jogging towards her. It was the last thing she saw when she crumpled down to the hard cold concrete. "Miss!?" she heard a gruff voice call out in what seemed like the distance.

"Don't worry i'll help you!" was the last thing she heard before passing out.