Disclaimer: I don't own anything Supernatural related, but I wish I owned Sam and Dean. I especially wish I owned Dean.

Warning: This story mentions physical abuse, but nothing too graphic.

AN: For those of you who are reading my story Life or Something Like It I know that I'm not done with that but I couldn't resist writing this. Also this is in no way related to Life or Something Like It. This has been forming in my head since I saw Nightmare and I finally decided to give in and write it. Did anyone else notice at the end of Nightmare when Dean agrees with Sam that they are lucky to have John as father that Dean is being some what sarcastic? That is what made this start forming this in my head. Anyway I hope you enjoy this and please review. I plan on this being a three shot. Now on with the story!

Chapter 1: Ponderings

It had been three days since the Max incident in Michigan and Dean couldn't stop thinking about it. So here he was in a sleazy ass motel room thinking about Max's childhood and his own all the while trying to fall to sleep. It wasn't as if Dean hadn't felt bad for the poor kid because he did and he could definitely empathize with him, but the fact that his father and uncle beat him did not give Max the right to kill them. Dean had been abused by his father for the better part of his life but he would never and could never kill him, he loved the man too damn much. Dean had always known his father loved him even when John was beating him senseless. Of course Dean hadn't enjoyed the beatings but he could deal with them because he knew his father would always be sorry.

It also helped Dean deal with the beatingsbecause he knew that if he was there to be his dad's punching bag that his dad would never lay a hand on Sammy. Dean had made sure of that, he had protected Sam to the best of his ability and because of that the boy had never felt the pain of being abused.

Dean had hated picking up the pieces of broken glass from shattered bottles that contained various alcoholic beverages. Dean had hated wiping up those spilled alcoholic beverages. Dean had hated his father's glazed eyes and the smell of cheap vodka on his breath. Dean had hated the vice like grip his father's hands had on his arms as he was getting ready to beat Dean into the ground. Dean had hated the feel of his father's fists as they slammed into his stomach as a hammer would slam into a nail. Dean had hated the feeling of his father's heavy boots connecting painfully with his ribs and shins. Dean had hated the feel of the leather from his father's belt on his bare skin when his father really wanted to lay into him. Dean had hated hearing his father's soft sobs of regret as Dean made his way to his and Sammy's shared room after rough beatings. Dean had hated coming out of that room hours later to see his dad passed out on the couch another bottle clenched tightly in his hand.

But Dean had never hated the man. He could never hate his father, no matter what John had done to him. It also hadn't mattered to Dean that he had hated all of those things and more. All that really mattered to him was making sure that Sammy would never have to go through that and to keep his baby brother as healthy and happy as he could. The last thing Dean thought before finally drifting off is that every pain and every humiliation he had toendure from his father's hands was worth it because he knew that he had made sure Sammy had never felt it.

AN: Well that's chapter one I know it's kind of short so sorry. I promise next chapter will be longer. I hope you enjoyed it and please review! Constructive criticism please.