Chapter 7 – Home isn't safe

"Come on, Dean! Wake up!" Sam called. "I don't want to be late for school!"

Dean wasn't exactly a morning person. He liked to sleep in, to stay in the comfort of his own bed. But he knew that he needed to get up and actually go to school. His brother liked to walk with him to school and he wasn't going to give that up just so he could be a little more in his bed. He liked to walk slowly, instead of rushing and having to say goodbye to Sammy too soon.

He quickly got up and ran to the bathroom, there weren't many clothes for him to take off, just a black shirt and his boxers. He jumped into the shower and about five minutes later he was finishing his breakfast.

"Come on, Sammy!" He said as Sam ate his breakfast. "I thought you didn't want to be late for school!" He mocked with a smile.

Sam sent him one of his famous 'bitch-faces', being this one bitch-face number one.

"I'm almost done…" He said his eyes never leaving Dean. He was trying to swallow his food as fast as he could.

Dean motioned to start cleaning the kitchen, not wanting his father to come and punish him for having things all messed up around the kitchen. But he was too late.

John came inside the small kitchen area with only a plain shirt and his boxers on. His face said it all. He had been drinking during the night.

"Why is this shit all around?" John asked.

It wasn't all that messy… Actually it was just Dean's dish and a pan… But still, for John nothing was ever enough.

"I was just going to clean everything…" Dean said as me moved faster to get things done, rather sooner than later.

"You should have done that before eating!" John yelled at him. He sat on his chair and looked at Dean expectantly. Once he realized Dean hadn't moved ever since his last sentence he yelled angrily at Dean. "DO YOU THINK MY BREAKFAST IS GOING TO COOK ITSELF, BOY? GO AND DO SOMETHING USEFUL YOU PIECE OF SHIT!"

Dean flinched and started doing what his father had asked him.

Sam lowered his head and finished his cereals quietly. He tried to take as much time as he could, to keep his brother company. He knew their father would send him to school as soon as he finished.

"Are you done yet?" John asked his younger son.

Sam slowly raised his eyes and shook his head.

"Then you better hurry up… I don't want you getting late for school."

Dean was giving his best to cook his father bacon and eggs, but everyone in the house knew that Dean wasn't exactly the best cook in the world, though he tried.

Once he thought it was done, he started putting John's breakfast in a plate and handed it to him.

John took a fork and started digging in his food. After the first bite he looked at Dean, his face full of anger. He spat everything he had in mouth to Dean's face.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS SHIT?!" He demanded. "YOU CALL THIS BREAKFAST? I CALL THIS A PIECE OF SHIT…" John calmed down for a few seconds, before smirking. "What was I expecting? You can never do anything good… Even what you cool is like you, worthless, shit, awful."

Dean cleaned his face quickly.

"I'm sorry…"

John went back to full anger mode.

"YOU'RE SORRY?! YOU THINK I FUCKING CARE THAT YOU ARE SORRY!?" He asked. "YOU ONLY GIVE ME EXPENSES! YOU ARE USELESS!" He grabbed the first thing he could reach – his plate – and threw it at Dean. Dean bent over and the plate fell to the ground behind him, every piece of it ricocheting on the ground ending up in different places of the kitchen floor. "YOU DARE AVOIDING PUNISHMENT?!" John yelled at Dean, clearly, John had been drinking more than just one bottle during the night. "I DON'T WANT YOU TO EVEN THINK ABOUT THAT! YOU NEED TO LEARN YOUR PLACE, BOY!"

And so he threw his knife at Dean. Dean didn't dare moving. Not this time. He was too scared of what John would do if he dared to move again.

Sam was used to his father being violent, but he had never gotten to the point of throwing knifes. Once the knife hit Dean, Sam rose from his seat.

"That's enough Dad! If you want, I can cook you breakfast!" He offered. His brother had a knife stuck in his upper right arm, blood was now starting to show up and he didn't want his father to throw another one.

This can't be true… This can't be true! He didn't do it… He… He didn't… Why… Why a knife? My arm is hurting so bad. I could feel the knife digging in my arm… I want to run… I want to leave this place… But I can't leave Sammy here… Not alone with him… Who knows what he would do once I was gone… With no one to pick on… Sammy would be the one who would get hurt… I can't have that happening… Not now… not ever… I need to stay… I need to find a way to take us out of this place.

Dean's head was spinning. His arm was stinging, his mind was thinking of ways to leave John and bring Sam with him.

"Here, Dad…" Sam said as he place another set of bacon and eggs in front of him.

This time John didn't have anything to point out and ate without a problem.

Sam grabbed Dean by the arm –his good arm– and took him to their room. Gently, he took the knife out of Dean's body.

Then he proceeded to take Dean's shirt off, so that he could examine the wound.

In the meanwhile, Dean, who thought they were still in the kitchen, got back to reality when he felt the pain of the knife leaving his arm.

"Ow!" He hissed.

"Sorry." Sam apologized.

They were used to this. John would become violent, hit Dean, and then Sam would help him get better. This time it had been a lot worse.

"I need to patch you up, Dean." Sam told him as he reached for the first aid kit that the boys had hidden under Sam's bed.

He got out the necessary stuff to patch his brother and started cleaning the wound up so he could start doing so. He had done it before, but it had always been superficial cuts, it had never been something his profound.

Dean was hissing, though he tried not to. It's not that he didn't want Sam to think he couldn't handle it. No, that wasn't it… What he wanted was to be strong for Sam, so that Sam wouldn't be scared.

Sam gave his best, in the end he just reached for some cotton with alcohol and placed it above the now patched up wound. He wanted this to be good. He didn't want his brother to have that wound infected.

"It's done, Dean." Sam said emotionless. He wasn't exactly sure what he was feeling. He knew two of those feelings: anger and sadness. He didn't like to see his brother suffering so much. Especially when the reason was something as stupid as having ditched a plate. He knew that he was angry at his father, that he was sad that Dean was always suffering so much. But there was another feeling he didn't quite know what it was.

A/N: Thank you everyone who keeps reviewing :3 i love you all so much! It means a lot to me that you are enjoying the story and that you keep telling me that! ^^

I was going to give them a normal morning, but then I came up with this... I'm sorry about what I came up with...