Prequel to Daddy Won't Hurt You! So it'll probably make more sense if you read it first! I was listening to Damaged by Plump, and the idea to this appeared. This is after one of the –serious violently – beatings, a little jump into Dean's mind.

Disclaimer: I own the idea. The song, lyrics, the boys and the show are not mine.

Warning: If you have read Daddy Won't Hurt You! You probably won't be surprised, but anyway. Mention of serious violence and language.

A/N: Link to the song on my profile. I know I promised a sequel, but I just had to do this one first, and it's only a one-shot, aaaand I might use it to something in the sequel. I'm leaving the brother's ages unknown, though Dean is younger than 16, and Sam is younger than 12.


Damaged

Dreaming comes so easily
'Cause it's all that I've known
True love is a fairytale
I'm damaged, so how would I know?

I'm scared and I'm alone
I'm shamed and I need for you to know

~Plumb, Damaged

Flowers, butterflies, sunny days and a long walk down the beach. Sounds like a girl's dream right? Well, this is what you dream about when dreams are the only thing that is really yours, the only thing that you have ever known as normal.

Love? What I know of, only three people have ever loved me. One is my mom, but she's dead. Two, my dad, but he's not my dad anymore, he's a monster, and he can't love anymore, only hate. Three; my little brother, his love is the strongest I've ever known, but he's broken, just as, if not more, broken as me.

So for me, love is a fairytale. When the prince arrives on his white horse, saves the princess, gives her a kiss of true passion and rides into the sunset. But how would I know? I'm just useless, broken, damaged.

Mentally and physically.

My mind is twisted, I can't even figure out if this is normal or not anymore. I know, deep down, it's not, but when you've grown up with this, your father tells you it is normal, it's your secret and you just have to live with it, it makes you feel like you're lost in a big gap of nothing. No reality, not even fantasies are allowed here.

But I guess it's the touch of normalcy from my mother which keeps me going, and of course the fact that I have a little brother to protect, a little brother who actually loves me.

Physically I'm broken too. Right now, my head is hurting like someone banged it into a big metal pole and then decided to jump on it too –not that it wasn't what happened– at least one of my ribs is broken and three others must be sprained. I've probably gotten bruises covering every little inch of my body, and my left leg… Well, my left leg I know is broken. I can literally feel the broken bone scratching up against the inside of my skin when I try to move it.

Only a little movement under my arms makes me realize I'm still lying on the floor. It is coming from Sam that much I know. John would never do anything like that, for all I know he's left again to sit on a bar for the next three hours, minimum.

Sammy though, he must have crawled from the little corner he had been thrown to, to under my arm – by my side.

Tonight had been bad, I don't know what had pissed John off this much, but I sure as hell know Sam and I should have stayed on a distance of three hundred miles, if not more. What I regret the most was having Sam there, because John had had enough strength to go after Sam, after he had beaten the holy crap out of me.

I hadn't been able to do anything to stop him, my leg and head had made sure of that. All I could do was watching my baby brother suffer under John's hands, and hear the broken, tear-filled sobs from him.

When he had thrown Sam in the corner, he had decided to kick me a couple of times again, and then he had left. The kicks had thrown me into unconsciousness, which weren't quite what I needed when I had a brother I needed to take care of.

Tonight I actually think Sam would be the more protective one. Not that I really allow, but if he has been strong enough to crawl over to me, I think he's in a better shape than I am. And even if I won't let him, he does it anyway. He's so young and he has already experienced more than a human should ever have to, so I can't really stop him from doing it.

I can feel my shirt getting wet, more than the blood has already made it, and I decide to wake up, Sam must be crying, and I can't stand it when he is. Something is either scaring him, or he is really hurting, because he has learned not to cry because of nothing, he only cries when something is really bad, or really frightening him.

As I gain awareness, I start to regret waking up. Everything hurts, and I know it'll take time before I'm healed, before we're both healed. Not just physically, but also mentally. Both of the things make it chills to the bone, and we won't, can't let anyone get close to us, let anyone help us.

We're too damaged to even look people in the eyes anymore, and it scares the hell out of me. Sammy is not able to play with the other kids, I'm always walking alone, and the shame is filling me up, I don't know where to leave it, I can't get away from it, it's hunting me, and I just wished John knew. Knew how it felt, knew what he had really done to his sons.

But I know it's all wishes, wishes from a broken soul who's lost in the dark. Nobody even bother to help anymore, so what's there to do? What can I do?

I open my eyes and when I look down a little I can see Sam's shaggy hair. His head is buried in my chest, and he's breathing heavy, steady breathes – he's crying, which means he must be scared.

"'Mmm?" It was meant to be his name, but there only came a long sigh of M's.

"Dean?" A tiny voice asks from under my chin, and I feel Sam looking at me, so I look back down at him and try to give him a reassuring smile.

"Hey 'ammy," my mouth is dry and my throat utterly rough. I can see he is worried, though the thing which caught my eyes is the bruised cheek and swollen eye. John had hit hard, and Sam was going to have those bruises for a couple of month, before they would be completely gone.

"Yo-you okay?" His voice is just as tiny as before, and his voice shaking.

"I'm super," I force the words out of my mouth, and I'm not alright, but mentally I am, as long as Sam is there, so it isn't a completely lie.

He doesn't say anything, just shakes his head a bit and rests his head carefully against my chest. It doesn't hurt, so I hug him into my chest just to feel he's actually there, and it stops the pain for a bit.

He let me do it, but he's still pushing a bit against the hug, because he doesn't want to hurt me. I would have told him not to, if it wasn't because my leg was hurting like a bitch.

"It's gonna be okay Sammy, we'll get out of here someday, I pro…" I have to take a deep breathe to keep the pain down and then continue. "…I promise you."

There were a thousand things I could say to Sam, a thousand things I want to tell him, but I can't. I can't ever tell anyone how I feel, what I want or how I want it, I can only take what I get. And for Sam, I can only give the best I can. Me. It's not much, but Sam is a generous soul, every time he tells me it's enough, and every time I feel bad about it.

And the fear I feel isn't making anything better. Fear caused by John. When will he get drunk and take his anger out on us again? How will I find Sam when he's home alone with John? What if I can't hide a bruise one day and somebody actually cares about it, will the system separate Sam and me? Do we even have enough money to stay in the apartment, to get food? The fear I have to live with every day. Only my soul can help me, make things alright, but it's hard when it's broken too.

The thing that really scares me, though, is that I can feel him. I feel John everywhere. When I do something wrong, when I'm just two seconds late, even if I take a wrong step, I can feel him watching me, I can feel him touching me. Like he's just waiting for me to do something wrong so he can punish me, or worse, punish Sam for my mistakes.

"Hhhp," Sam accidently touched my leg with his foot, and the pain which shots through my leg is almost unbearable. I try to keep it hidden though, because I know Sam, and if he notices he'll be all mother hen on me, a hen with a lot of blame by the way.

"Sorry! I'm sorry Dean, I, I…" Too late, Sam is already up on all fours and is crawling back so he can't hurt me any further.

"No Sammy, don't! You didn't know okay, not your fault," I hurried to say while getting up and resting on in my elbows. My head is only shouting for me to get back down, but of course I do not obey.

"You ne-ed to see a do-oc-ter," Sam stutters out through his sobs, and I can't really figure out if it is because he is hurt, or because he thinks he has hurt me. So I sit up, which hurt like hell, and holds my hand out to Sam. He grabs it, and I slowly guide my baby brother into my arms and hug him tightly against my chest.

"You know I can't go to the doctor, not before dad comes home anyway, but…" I had to; once again, take a deep breath to control the pain. "…Could you help me into the bed?" I ask as soft and generous as I can. I can feel Sam nodding against my chest, and after a few moments, Sam drew away, got up and held his hands out to me.

Then I notice his blue face again, and felt bad for not asking if he was okay, and well, better late than never, right?

"Hey Sammy? You okay?" It sounded even more stupid when I said it out loud, but now I had said it, and Sam had to answer. The question was just if he choose to lie or not.

He gave a shy smile and nods. "My head hurts a bit, but it's all," he says as he pulls me up.

"God!" Funny word showing you're hurt right? But it was the only thing I managed to say, god my leg hurt, and what nice black spots there where dancing around in front of my eyes. This pain was truly too much to bare. Talking about baring, I was still standing, which meant Sam was carrying most of my weight, the kid was stronger than I gave him credit for.

"You o-okay, Dean?" His tiny voice asks, and his big eyes are digging into mine.

"I don't think you want an honest answer to that Sammy," I try to joke, but Sam just keeps staring.

"Let's just… Get into the bed," I say, and start to hobble into the bedroom. Sam is groaning a bit when I jump and puts my weight on him, but he doesn't complain.

"I'm sorry," I finally say when I sit down on my bed, he shouldn't have to do this, I should take care of him.

"Don't be… You want me to help with your leg?" He asks and looks curios, concerned and scared at me and then down on the odd bent leg.

"Uhhm," I would like to, yeah, but I'd rather not have Sam watching me this weak, I hate when I'm in this position.

"It's okay to ask for help sometimes Dean," Sam gently says and carefully places his hands on my leg; he doesn't do anything, just wait for me to say something.

"Okay, but… Just count to three and then we move, okay?" I ask, I know it's gonna hurt, but it'll hurt even more if I don't get it up.

"Okay… One… Two, three," his grab on my leg tightness and the pain from the leg makes me squeeze my eyes shut and give a little cry. Suddenly I'm turned so my legs are on the sheet, the broken leg resting on the carpets so it's coming up higher, and my back resting against the headboard.

"'Ou okay?"

I take the time to calm down, and then open my eyes and look straight in to my little brother's. "I'm fine Sammy, thanks," I try to smile, and it looks like it works, because he smiles back.

"C'mere," I say as I pat the bed. He hesitatingly crawls up beside me, and as I move my arms around him, he rests against my side. I can feel his shoulders shaking, and I can hear his unsteady breathe, and I'm guessing he's crying again.

"It's gonna be okay Sammy, it's all gonna be okay, you hear me?" He nods against my shoulder, and his breathing is becoming steadier. This is usually how it ends, every time John has been up to something, it ends with me promising Sam something I know I can't really keep.

But I must not look back, I can't go back, so I have to forget the past and move on, not just for me, but for Sammy too. Move on and try to see the light, try to keep the promises, but honestly I only move on because I can't leave my brother, he's my reason for living, and for him, I don't just have to move one, for him, I will gladly do it.

I can't go back…
I must go on…