Authors note: its an alternate universe.. So it won't be like the show, if your squeamish about blood then don't read please.
Dean's POV
Dean had protected Sam for as long as he can remember. He saved Sam from the fire that killed their mother and Dean, to this day, saves Sam from their father. Their father blames the boys for the death of Mary.
He always says that if they were never born that it wouldn't have happened. John drinks a lot, trying to take away the pain, but all it does is make him angrier, taking it out on the boys. The boys never say anything to anyone, worried that it would make it worse.
They fear even through their teen years. Dean had managed to get their grandfather to take in Sam, save him from John, but Dean couldn't get out. Every night John would come in drunk and hit Dean until he passed out.
Dean had developed a few bad habits. He began drinking, and smoking. He got tattoos to cover skin to hide bruises, but worst of he began cutting himself. Both of Dean's legs were covered in scars, and both his arms too, he wanted to stop but every time John came in, it depressed him even more. He was sick and tired of hiding, but he knew if he told anyone, he'd be dead.
"Dean?" Jo's voice rang in his through his head. Jo was the only person Dean talked to. She figured out what was going on at his house, and after him begging her not to tell, she decided to stay by his side and help him through.
"Dean you need to stop thinking about it, it will only make it worse." He sighed looking her in the face. "Doesn't matter Jo, it happens every night." He stood, knowing if he told Jo he was depressed again, that she'd flip out and try to help. He just wanted to be alone. "I'm going to class, I'll see you at lunch." Before she could get a word out, he was heading into the school building. He swerved through the crowd and headed for the bathroom, which he thought was empty. He locked himself in a staff and sat on the lid of the toilet, letting out a sob. He hurt, and he knew he'd be in here for hours if he didn't do something now.
He pulled the hidden blade from his boot and made 3 deep cuts on his arm, watching the blood rise. He stared for a moment before putting a few wads of toilet paper on it, while a sob escaped his lips. He knew he'd be late for class but he didn't care, not until the stall next to him opened, and his swung open. He'd been caught.
