*trigger warning*

Dean stared at the blood drizzling from his hand, thinking of the first time John had taught Sam to do so. While the action was partially to allow the boys to prove that they were indeed themselves and not a monster, there was another meaning, and layer behind it.

Sam, relatively new to the process, always had trouble with the part of the job, whereas Dean excelled. Sam had difficulty convincing himself to push the blade hard enough to draw blood. His hand slackened at the anticipation of pain, whereas Dean's was strengthened.

But Sam wasn't there. Not right now.

All Dean had to think about now, was the growing realization in the back of his mind that he was going to have to hide this from Sonny somehow. He was pretty sure most people didn't do this. Dean put a sturdy pressure to the slit in his hand, biting his tongue as he did so. He'd be missed soon, he realized, and he couldn't very well go running back with blood dripping off his hand.

Hearing the rustle of leaves near by, Dean jumped to his feet and scanned his surroundings. Unfortunately, he saved the most important area for last.

"Dean?"

And... Busted.

Dean got past the deer in headlights feeling just in time for his mind to shuffle through a number of lists of excuses.

Fell and got hurt? Nope, not going to work. Too clean a line for that. I'm getting too good at it.

Messing around with the pocket knife, and it slipped? Maybe. That might work.

But... I'm surrounded by rocks, not twigs. There's nothing I could have been whittling or anything.

And I couldn't have just been messing with the knife itself, because Sonny knows I know better than to do that.

After filtering through several more excuses, Dean realized he didn't really have a believable one, and nor did he have time to come up with anything. He would simply have to tell some semblance of the truth. The truth with a few parts left out, but still, the truth.

"Dean." Sonny's word had no tone really, he didn't seem surprised, or confused, or even angry really. It was just kind of... Sad, maybe? And not even officially that.

Sonny set the Dean's lunch to the side, and took the paper towels meant for a napkin, and for cleaning his hands off. He applied soft but steady pressure to Dean's hand. Then he asked one simple question.

"Why?"

"Because he told me to."

"Who? Who told you to?" Sonny asked.

"Dad. He makes me do this to train myself. To serve as a reminder." Dean answered.

"A reminder of what?" Sonny was incredulous.

"That I am human, and I bleed." Dean answered, "That others' lives are worth just as much and more than my own. It's a symbol of sacrifice. If I can cut my hand when there is no need, I will have no difficulty in putting myself forward to take pain for others when there is a need."

"Dean, in what situation would you need to take pain for others?" Sonny asked, "What situation could you be in where that could even possibly be called for?"

Dean just shrugged a bit. "I guess Dad just wants me ready for everything."

Sonny sighed and lifted the makeshift bandage, hoping the bleeding had stopped. Thankfully it had. Sonny took that time to inspect the damage. It wasn't a deep cut, nor was it particularly wide. It hadn't really bled enough that he knew of, to be worrying physical health wise.

"I-" Dean hesitated, not sure where he was going with this, nor why he was telling Sonny more than he had intended. "I guess it reminds me of Dad. Reminds me he's going to come back, eventually. Because he'd do that with us, and it was sort of like his version of saying 'I'm here for you.' I- I mean- I know it doesn't make much sense, but... It does to me."

Sonny contemplated Dean's words, as well as his sincerity.

"Is that where Sam's scar came from?" he asked, "It's in the same spot."

Dean seemed a little surprised, but nodded, "He doesn't like it though. He doesn't understand what it means." Dean said, "Not completely anyway."

It was silent for a few moments.

"You know I worry about you, right?" Sonny asked.

"Yes, Sir." Dean bit his lip.

"Do you understand why?"

"I think so."

"Then you know you can't keep doing this, Dean." Sonny said. "What if the knife slipped and it went too deep?"

"But it didn't." Dean protested.

"But what if it had?" Sonny said, "What if you bled out before I could get here?" Sonny looked around. "You don't seem to have had a plan for stopping the bleeding. Which tells me you hadn't really planned this, right?"

At least the boy had the good grace to look sheepish.

Sonny sighed. "Don't worry about me taking the pocket knife, you can keep it. You'd find something else anyway." He said. "And Dean, I know I can't stop you from doing this. I just want you to know that you don't have to hide it. Not from me. Every time you do that, you come find me, and we'll get you fixed up, okay?"

"Yes, sir."

"But don't you dare mistake this for me saying I'm alright with it." Sonny said. "I'm not. I just know these things take time, and I want to make sure you have enough of it."

"I'm fine, sir, really."

"Then just make sure you stay that way."

A/N: Like I said, it's not exactly what you think. Just for those of who are worried, this will not be a main story line. There's more to Dean's life than just that. We'll be looking at some new and fun stuff soon. Something that will lighten the tone a little bit.