AN: So this is a story I wrote about Dean's childhood and how much alcohol he drinks. It was inspired by the line: "Well, you don't remember do you? You ran away on my watch. I looked everywhere for you, I thought you were dead, and when Dad came home..." (5.16, Dark Side of the Moon). So here it is. Please review.

Disclaimer:Supernatural does not belong to me, the line from "Dark Side of the Moon" does not belong to me, and the characters Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, and John Winchester do not belong to me.

The first time that Dean had a sip of alcohol, he was only seven years-old. He had taken it from the Impala when his dad wasn't looking. It was how Dad solved his problems. He drank a lot to cope with the life they lived. When Dean took a sip he felt it burning his throat and spat it back in the cup. He decided that it tasted disgusting. Sam was asleep though and Dean couldn't help, but think of how careless his Dad was when he drank. Secretly Dean had been praying that someday he would be allowed to be that careless. Maybe this was the answer.
He took another sip and this time he swallowed. It burned down his throat, but Dean didn't care. He drank more and more, until he couldn't see straight. He felt more and more numb as he drank. It was as though he didn't care anymore. If he was honest, he liked the feeling.

The second time that Dean drank, he was nine. His dad had disappeared on a hunting trip for a week. Dean hadn't been paying a lot of attention to his five year-old brother. When Dad got home and Sammy was missing, Dean felt his fathers wrath in every painfully slap and punch that touched him. Sam had only gone to the arcade, but Dean couldn't deal with the fact that he had disappointed his Dad again. After John passed out, Dean pulled out a bottle of Jack and drank as much as he could. Sam and John were asleep, so Dean chose not to sleep that night.
Most of what he remembered from the night were cartoons and the bottle of whiskey being empty. He could also remember every horrible moment of his Dad beating him. Every kick, every slap, every punch. He knew that his dad had his reasons, but that didn't make the bruises go away. The next morning his dad made him promise to tell his teachers that he had fallen out of a tree he had climbed. Dean agreed and never told anyone.

Soon the beatings became a regular thing. Dean came up with excuse after excuse as to why he always had bruises and broken bones. It didn't matter to him that his Dad hit him. If he had woken up sooner then he could have grabbed Sam sooner and Mom would still be alive. If he had been more careful then Sammy would have never been approached by that Shtriga. It was all his fault, so it made sense for his dad to hit him.
Since the beatings had become regular, so had the drinking. Dean was 14 now and he knew that his dad was right. It was his fault that they hadn't grown up normally. John only spoke honestly when he drank. Dean knew that. When his dad drank, Dean got slapped around and, damn, it hurt when his dad hit him. He knew how to numb it though. He drank to numb the physical pain while it amplified the psychological pain. Sometimes Dean could let himself forget everything, other times he would try to focus on anything else.
That was the first time that Dean unscrewed the blade from his razor and used it to cut lines across his wrist. One for every failure. By the end of the year his arm was scarred beyond comparison to their earlier form. Layers upon layers of scars could be seen.

Then Sam ran away on his watch. His dad hospitalized him with the beating he received. He knew that Sam didn't remember that. When he saw Dean again, Dean was lying in a hospital bed with four fractured ribs and a broken leg. John couldn't look Dean in the eyes for months afterwards.
It was the worst beating that Dean had taken from his dad. He deserved it though. Sam had disappeared on his watch. It was a stupid mistake not to secure the window in the motel. He should of made sure that Sam was protected. Prior to seeing the younger Winchester, Dean was sure that his brother was dead and it was his fault. Sammy was dead because of him. He was only 16 years-old and he had caused the death of his twelve year-old brother. He made sure to cut more and more slits into his wrists. He deserved it after all.
The first night back in a motel after the hospital trip was the first time that Dean stuck a gun in his mouth, ready to pull the trigger. Then he heard his brothers soft voice call out to him. He sat by his brother for the rest of the night. Focusing on how he needed to protect him. He just wished that he wasn't protecting Sammy from their father.

AN: Alright, so definitely not one of my happier pieces, but I like it. Let me know what you think by sending me a review. - GBNF