I know it's been ages since I've posted on this, BUT, I've been really busy trying to keep up with updating Saving Grace every Friday, so most of my writing time goes to that.

I hope you like this chapter, I can't remember who requested it as it was so long ago, but I'm finally finished with it.

In this fic, Dean is 18, Haley is 16 and Sam is 14.


Motel Room — Riverton, Wyoming — 04:56 pm.

Dean sighed heavily as he once again paced the floor of the motel room. It wasn't like he was worried, because he wasn't, he didn't worry, he just wanted to know where his sister was. Just because. It wasn't panic, it wasn't concern, and it wasn't a pile of horrible thoughts creeping up with every minute she wasn't back in the room. No, he was just curious. That was all it was.

"Are you sure she didn't have detention or something?" he asked, looking down at his brother, who simply rolled his eyes at him. Yeah, he wasn't worried.

"I told you," Sam muttered. "I don't know where she is." His eyes fell back to the book open on his lap as he tried to ignore the continued pacing of his older brother. That had to be the fifth time he had been asked that in the past hour. He didn't know where Dean assumed he could just pull information he didn't have from. "And, like I told you the last ten times, standing at the window and glaring out there isn't gonna make her come back any faster." A small smirk crept up on his face. "Maybe she's on a date."

Dean span around to face him, impatient, hands on his hips, lips tightly pressed together for a moment. "Don't push me, Sam." he warned.

"Dean," He rolled his eyes at him. "Chill out. She'll come back."

Dean opened his mouth, maybe to say that Sam was wrong, to once again remind him that he wasn't worried, but he knew it was no use. When someone was late back, Dean worried. Of course he did. Anyone in his position would. Sam and Haley were in his care, they were his responsibility to keep safe, and he knew what was out there in the world with them. It was no surprise he felt on edge when one of them was an hour late home without saying so, because they both knew better than to do something like that. How would he explain to dad that she just hadn't come home from school one day? At what point did he stop waiting and decide that she wasn't coming back? It was probably something simple, maybe she had bumped into a friend on her way home and just hadn't thought to mention it, or maybe it was something worse, maybe something unfriendly had found her. For all he knew every second that he let slip past them could just be another second he wasn't helping her when she needed him.

It was at that thought he heard the motel door open quietly behind him, as though she had been trying to sneak in. The first thing he saw was the blatant 'I told you so' look on his brother's face, but he ignored that and turned to his sister, his face stern. Not that she was looking. She closed the door and remained facing it as she shrugged off her jacket and dropped her bag to the floor.

"And where have you been?" Dean asked her before she even had the chance to turn around, he almost scared himself with how much he sounded like their father at that point, but he couldn't afford to dwell on that. At that point, he wasn't there to be her friend, he was there to keep her safe.

Even without seeing her face he could see the defeated and weary stance about her. Something was wrong. Something had happened. She sighed, heavily, her shoulders slumped.

"Sorry," she mumbled. "I, uh...I got kept behind. Flunked a history test. It's no biggie." Dean narrowed his eyes at her, suspicious. There was no way in hell Haley failed history, she could do that without even trying. He knew that. And, even if she had, there was no chance she would have stayed behind to retake a test in a school they were leaving in a few days. He didn't buy it for a second. "I'm gonna take a shower, okay?" she added quickly, reaching down for a bag as she made a move to leave the room. She hadn't even looked at them. And, that either meant she had a new piercing, or there was something about her face she didn't want them to see.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean stepped forwards, frowning. "Hold it." Haley visibly cringed but came to a stop all the same, her back still facing both her brothers. Even Sam had closed his book in curiosity. "Turn around."

She sighed, clearly reluctant. "Dean—"

"Haley." he warned. He knew something was wrong. "Turn around."

Slowly, hesitant, she turned to face him, pushing up a small, awkward smile as she did. Dean's face contorted from curious to pissed almost immediately, his eyes wide and burning with fury. Her bottom lip was split, and there was already a deep bruise forming around her left eye. Drippings of blood covered the front of her white vest, evidently having come from her nose judging by the still noticeable stain of red beneath it, and there was a dark purple bruise shaded at her collar bone. He saw red.

"What the hell has happened to you?" he demanded, speaking through gritted teeth. He took a step closer to take a better look, and he noticed how the edge of it had been taken away by make up. That had to be why she was so late. She had gone somewhere and plastered make up over herself in a futile attempt to hide it from them, clearly before she had realised how bad it was. That made him even madder.

"Dean—" she tried again, but he just wasn't having it. He wanted a name, he wanted an explanation.

"Tell me." he snapped, clearly working hard to bite back his anger from coming out at her, but it still showed. "Now."

"Look, it's not a big deal, alright?" she muttered, all patience gone. She shot him a glare before turning and heading for her room, and she slammed the door pointedly behind herself, as though warning both of them against attempting to follow.

Dean opened and closed his mouth, unsure of what to say, and turned to his brother, exasperated. "Have I missed something?" Sam shrugged and looked back to the book on his lap. But Dean noticed, his brother looked a lot more clued up and a lot less surprised than he was. He knew something. "Sam." he warned, narrowing his eyes. "What's happened?" Sam shifted a little, but said nothing. "Has she pissed someone off? Has she been in a fight? What?"

Sam sighed, defeated, and looked back to him. The warning glare in his eyes was enough for him to talk. "Look, it might be nothing to do with it, I don't know, but..." he trailed off, indicating his hesitance to tell him anything, because Sam knew as soon as he spoke Dean's temper would hit the roof.

"Dude." he pushed, impatient. "What's happened?"

"Well, there's this guy, right," Dean nodded, already tense. "And, he kinda tried it on with her. Made some huge point about it in the middle of the corridor, you know, showing off. So, Haley shot him down, he kinda made an ass of himself, and I guess he's pissed at her."

"Language." Dean automatically muttered, clearly deep in thought over his words.

Sam rolled his eyes at him, as if to say that his warning couldn't have concerned him less. He noticed Dean's jaw clench as he fought back his anger, his fists balled at his sides. He realised, it wouldn't be long before Dean was going to find him. "I mean, if it was even him." he quickly added. "It might have been something else. I don't know."

"This guy," he spoke slowly. "What's his name?"

"Jason Keller." Sam answered. He wasn't sure he cared anymore. He was more than pretty sure that it had been him who had done that to her. What else could it have been? And, if it had been, Sam personally couldn't wait to see what his brother was going to do. He deserved whatever their older brother was going to do to him.

Dean sighed, shaking his head in frustration as he crossed the room, and pounded on her bedroom door with the side of his fist. "Haley," he called through the wood, his temper evident in his tone. "You got two choices here, because I ain't in the mood to screw around, you either get your ass out here right now or I'm coming in there and you're coming out anyway. Pick."

There was the sound of muffled movements, and then her muttering something to herself, most likely about him, before the door was pulled opened and she looked up at him with raised eyebrows, expectant. "What?" she asked, as if to say she didn't have the time to listen to him. "I've got homework, so, if it isn't important—"

"Don't 'what' me." he muttered, taking a hold of her around the top of her arm as he pulled her from the doorway. "And you don't do your homework, so don't even try that one with me." She tugged her arm free of his grasp and stood in front of him, waiting. "Jason Keller, right?" At that, she shot a look to Sam, who simply shrugged, the smallest hint of a smirk on his face. "How many of them were there?"

"What do you mean how many of them were there?" she asked, incredulous.

"Well, I know you, and you don't end up in that state fighting one on one." he stated, raising his eyebrows as if to tell her to stop screwing around with him. "So, how many were there?"

Haley sighed, what else could she do? It was either going to come from her or he would go and beat the answers out of someone else. "Five." she mumbled, almost inaudible.

"Five?" he repeated, a new level of rage in his voice. He looked livid.

"Dean, it's fine." she tried, making some attempt to calm him, but he was too far gone.

"No, Haley, it isn't fine." he snapped. "It's not fine for five guys to beat on one girl." His face suddenly turned dark. "And he's about to find that out."

And before either Haley or Sam could get out another word, Dean was out of the room.


It didn't take Dean long to find him. He was one of those kids, you ask in the right place, find the right people, he was easy. They were a well known group around town—football jocks who thought they had the right to whatever girl they pleased—Dean had known too many of them in his time. And he had never liked them. He had never understood them, their subconscious need to be popular in school, to be the star of the football team with the pretty blonde cheerleader girlfriend. They were the type to pick on kids like his brother for no real reason, to harass girls like his sister for having self respect and knowing how to say no.

Being eighteen, Dean had zero issue walking straight through the doors at the front of the school, determined in what he was doing. No one stopped him and no one questioned him. The hallways were deserted, there was no one around. And so Dean strode straight through to the other side of the building, where he presumed the exit to the football fields would be. And, sure enough, he soon heard the sound of male voices coming from somewhere close by. He pushed open a door and found the voices grew louder as he made his way into the locker room.

Dean looked around slowly. It looked as though the whole team was in there, and none of them seemed to have noticed that he had entered. At random, he tapped the guy closest to him on the shoulder. He turned, looking stunned at the sight of the unfamiliar man behind him. "Which one of you punks is Jason Keller?" he asked, his voice hard, and everyone within hearing distance of them fell silent—everyone but the five guys at the other side of the room.

The kid nodded over at one of them, and Dean scoffed at the sight. He didn't know what to laugh at first, his hair or his shirt. Slowly, dangerously, he approached him, aware that every other set of eyes in the room was fixed on him. He came to a stop behind him, eyeing him as if he were a predator, and cleared his throat.

The kid stopped his laughter and slowly turned to him, eyebrows raised. His four friends seemed to instinctively circle around him, as though they were ready to protect him. Hell, Dean could've cracked up laughing at that. But the stern frown on his face never faltered. "Can I help you?" The guy asked him, looking him up and down slowly. He easily matched Dean in height, and probably in build—in fact, he was probably bigger than him—and that only made him madder. Dean knew, if he really wanted to, how much damage he would be able to inflict upon his sister, no matter how good she was, he overpowered her effortlessly, she was half his size. And if there was one thing Dean couldn't take, it was guys beating on girls half their size.

Dean tutted, shaking his head at him slowly. "Heard you've been screwing with Haley Winchester." he said, his voice was upbeat and casual, as though nothing was wrong.

The guy scoffed in his face, like he didn't see a problem. "What's your point?" he asked, running a hand through his hair, and that was when Dean noticed the slight grazing on his knuckles. "Little slut had it coming to her." His friends around him snickered, but everyone else in the room seemed to realise that he wasn't there to agree with them.

"Hm." Dean nodded slowly, as though contemplating his response. "Well, you see, that little slut, as you call her, happens to be my kid sister. You seeing my problem here?" His eyes moved from him to one of the guys standing behind him, and he narrowed his eyes at the impressive black eye he had. "Nice shiner," he commented, sarcastic. "My sister do that?"

The guy shifted, and that gave Dean his answer. "Look," Jason muttered. "Do you want something?"

Dean smiled at him, anything but kind, but said nothing. Instead, he punched him hard in the face, sending him stumbling back into his friends with a bloody nose and a bruised ego, friends who he noticed made no move to assist him. "Bet you think you're all real tough, huh?" he spoke lowly, looking between the five of them with a darkness in his features. "Five guys on one girl. Impressive. Really."

One of the guys behind him seemed to understand the look in his eyes. He was looking for revenge, he was there to do to them what they had done to his sister, probably more, and that didn't leave them in a good place. "Look, man—"

But Dean wouldn't have it. He punched him in the face, even harder, and sent him straight to the ground, effortlessly. That was when the other three made a move, seeming to finally realise they were going to have to defend themselves, acting like they thought they had a chance against him. And Dean took each of them down without having so much as a scratch inflicted upon himself. It was almost pitiful how easy they went down. The sound of his fist impacting with flesh, the sound of them grunting in pain as Dean split skin and broke noses, the sound of them falling to the ground at his feet, it was all enough to leave the room in a tense and heavy silence.

Purposely, only he and Jason were left, standing and staring each other straight in the eyes. Dean looked dangerous, lethal, animalistic, but Jason looked afraid. He opened his mouth to speak, maybe to offer up a sarcastic comment, or maybe to apologise and beg Dean not to do to him what he had done to the others, but he moved first. He grabbed him around the front of the collar and threw him back against the lockers, pinning him there, his face inches away. "Let me tell you something about Haley Winchester," he growled, speaking through gritted teeth. "You fight her, you fight me. That goes for Sam, too. Got it?"

Jason nodded vigorously, clearly too shaken to speak, he looked terrified. He knew what he had coming, he knew he wasn't getting away with it. And the fear in his eyes showed Dean the type of guy he was really dealing with there. He knew right then, this guy, he was done. His reputation was in tatters. Everyone would know tomorrow. These five guys, supposedly the top of the school, the ones who ran everything, the popular kids, the tough football stars, they had been beaten down by one guy defending his sister.

And, with that thought in mind, and a smug smile on his face, Dean brought back his fist and landed another hard punch to his face. And then another, and another, and another, over and over until he was only standing by the grip Dean held on his throat. He tightened it for a moment, leaning closer, cutting off any air supply he had. "You even breathe near my sister or brother again, I swear to god, I will end you." he warned. "Do you understand me?" Jason nodded, but that didn't satisfy him this time. He brought him forward before slamming him back against the lockers again even harder, and he cried out in pain at the impact. "I said, do you understand me?" he asked, his voice even harder.

"Yes." he choked out. "Yes—I—I understand. I'm sorry. Please—"

Dean scoffed in his face, shaking his head. "You're pathetic." he spat. "All of you." And, with that, he sent another hard punch crashing to his face and sent him to the floor with the rest of his friends, shaking his head at them. "Absolutely pathetic."

No one questioned him as he turned and strode out of the room without looking back, eyes wide and mouths hanging open at what they had just witnessed.

But word had quickly spread the next day as Sam and Haley walked through the doors to school. Everyone knew. They took one look at them and just knew, they were the kids nobody messed with, because now everyone in that building understood the potentially lethal storm that was behind them.

Everyone in that building knew of Dean Winchester. And they knew, no one wanted to meet him in the same way the five guys missing that day had done.