Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke and the CW.

Warnings: Mention of abuse and rape of a minor.

Detective Suzanne Paris entered the interrogation room and sat down across from the teenager. He was in his late teens and would be handsome if he didn't look like shit run through. He was fresh from the shower and was wearing a T-shirt and pair of sweats with the police station logo on them. He looked tired and she figured he didn't get much sleep in the hospital last night. The boy wasn't in any trouble. Because of his age he was free to leave whenever he wanted, but she hoped to get a statement first. "The Doctor told me you had scars from old wounds. Why didn't you leave?"

"I couldn't leave my brother there alone. My stepfathers the city prosecutor. No one was going to believe me over him."

She knew he was right. She had seen it before. "They will believe you now. We have the tapes. Why don't you start from the beginning?"

"My Dad died the beginning of Nov in 83. From the urging of my Grand Parents my Mom was remarried by Christmas. Patrick was my mom's High School boyfriend. She was the only one of his girlfriends to dump him, so he always showed her off as a trophy he won. My mom went obediently along with it. She hasn't been the same since the fire. Sam was easy enough to pass off as his. He couldn't do that with me so he used me to vent his anger on." Dean glanced at the two-way mirror behind her. "I was four. It started the first night we moved in with him."

"And the sexual abuse?" When he didn't answer Suzanne turned in her seat and looked at the mirror. Only thing he could be looking at was his own beaten reflection. She turned back to face him. "Dean." She said softly and when that didn't work she moved her chair over to block his view.

"Sorry." He shook his head a little to clear it. "What was the question?"

"When did the sexual abuse start?"

"I was fourteen. He said since I was a pretty boy I should be a girl." His eyes turned dark as he remembered the incident. "Be fucked like one."

Detective Paris pulled two business cards out of her pocket and handed them to Dean. One was her card and the other was a grief councilor. "Did your mother know?"

"Only about the beatings, but she isn't in any state of mind to do anything about it."

The door opened and an older man with gray hair and wearing a business suit entered. The man looked shocked by Dean's appearance. "Dean, its time to go." He looked at the Detective. "I'm his Grandfather. No one else is to talk to him without me in the room. He is in no state to be giving a statement."

"It's okay. She didn't hound me for answers." Dean looked at the business cards in his hand. "I'm tired. Can we continue this later?"

His grandfather grabbed the cars and looked at them. He tossed them on the table. "Dean, lets go."

Dean's grandfather gave Suzanne a bad feeling. "Dean, you don't have to go with him."

"I'm fine." Dean stood up. "Thank you, Detective." He left with his Grandfather. The Detective followed them down to the lobby. The eighteen-year-old kid looked over his shoulder at her before leaving the building.

Suzanne's phone calls to Dean were never returned and the evidence against his stepfather was 'accidentally' destroyed. Since Dean was no longer willing to give a testimony Patrick went free. The next time she saw Dean he was in the hospital again. A year older. Only thing that changed was now his younger brother was helping in the beatings. She knew, but Dean wouldn't even talk to her this time. His mother's funeral was six months later and Suzanne went. Dean wasn't there so she hoped he finally got out.

Ten years had gone by since the Detective had seen Dean Winchester in the flesh, but his wanted poster for the murder of his step father hanging by her desk for the past nine years reminded her that she must fight hard to try to save everyone she can or they could be lost forever.

Thanks for reading. Please let me know what you think. Good or bad.