HI! I know I've been gone for absolutely ages but I'm back to writing again now thanks to my friend loveintheimpala! I should be updating all of my fics over the next couple of weeks, promise! :)

I said that I needed something to get me back into it after all this time so she gave me the idea for this little oneshot. I also borrowed the character of Jenny from loveintheimpala, so thank you so much for all of your help.

I hope you all enjoy. Thank you for reading.

A/N - Dean is 24 and Jenny is 22

Dean Winchester knew that his sister was soft at heart. She always had been. She put up a front and made out that she was some tough, stoic girl who could never be beaten down or broken by anything, but he knew her so much better than that. He could see right through her act and straight into her vulnerabilities and weaknesses—not that she had many of either. She had been trained like a soldier, the same as him, and, somehow, she had programmed herself never to show emotion.

There was something in her that could sympathise with anybody, about anything. She would patiently listen and try her hardest to take on and understand anyone's pain. She had so much tolerance in her sometimes he wondered how she did it, and where she had gotten it from. Whether it was listening to a grieving relative as part of the job or pressing someone for information, or even dealing with him and his bottled up emotions, she always managed to make people feel as though she had all the time in the world to listen to what they had to say.

But there had been something that day he had noticed while they had been speaking to a teenage girl as part of an investigation into a demon case. Jenny had looked at her with something else, something more than just sympathy shone in her green eyes. He had seen empathy. And normally that wouldn't have bothered Dean, he knew that she had been through a lot in her time, some of which he probably didn't know about, but this time it had been different—they had been talking to a victim of rape. And that was the one thing that Dean just could not ignore.

The way that she seemed to understand the young girl's every emotion, the way that only Jenny could get through to her, despite how he had tried, despite how he knew the police had tried, it made him wonder. And he prayed to god that he was wrong, he pleaded to whoever would listen that it was just his sister and the kindness he knew she had in her, but he had to know. He had to make sure that there was nothing more behind it, even if he didn't want to face the daunting possibility.

"Hey, Jen?" He glanced over at where she sat on the edge of one of the motel beds, her legs crossed under her as she flicked through the different channels on the small TV, uninterested, and sighed.

"Yeah?" She looked over at him for a moment before returning her attention to the screen, frowning a little in disappointment that she couldn't find anything good to watch, completely oblivious to how deep in thought her brother was.

When he didn't answer her she became curious, never had she known Dean to be stuck for words. She turned off the TV and dropped the remote down beside her, turning her full attention to her brother. He stood at the other side of the room, leaning against the table as if he was debating whether he wanted to sit down or not. He stared right at her in a way that she hadn't seen before, he looked like he was in pain. There was a hint of sadness in his eyes directed right at her, and she didn't know why.

"What's wrong?" she asked him. The concern came through in her words, because it wasn't like him to look like that, at all.

"Nothing," Dean muttered, looking away, but he knew that she was anything but convinced. "It's just, you know...I couldn't help but notice today...you...I mean..." he trailed off, he didn't know what to say. What could he say? How was anyone supposed to ask another person if they had ever been raped? It just wasn't something that could be done, not in a way that wasn't either senseless or blunt. "That girl today, you sounded like you understood her, and, I don't know, it just made me think," He paused for a moment, it wasn't coming out at all like he had intended it to. Reluctant, he sighed. He had to know. "Jenny, has anyone ever hurt you like that? Because, you know you can tell me, sis."

Even without her realising it, Jenny's face went cold, in a way that he had only seen when she was thinking about something horrible. But it had never been to that extent before. For a second she appeared just a shadow of the girl he knew. She looked as though she was masking a pain that had followed her for a lifetime, something now so prominent in her features, and he had never noticed it before then. It showed itself clearly in her eyes.

That's when Dean knew, he had been right. Something had happened to her, and it made him feel sick to even think about. He wasn't sure that he could hear it. He didn't want to hear it. But a part of him knew that he had to. He needed to know what she had been through, what she had tried to shoulder alone for so long.

Just one look at him proved that he could read her like a book, and she knew that there was absolutely no point in trying to hide anything away from him, because he already knew exactly what the answer was. "Dean," she sighed, shaking her head slowly. "It was a long time ago. It doesn't matter."

If it were possible, Dean's face seemed to fall even further. He looked nothing but devastated, in a way that she had only seen when he spoke of their mom, or about what had happened to her. There were tears shining in his eyes that he would fight back from her view with everything he had in him. But it was evident in the way that his jaw was tightly clenched as he tried to bite back the anger that was rapidly rising in him at the news.

"What happened?" he pressed. His voice was soft, knowing that it obviously wasn't something that she would want to talk about, but he wanted to know. He really did. He wanted to understand.

Jenny looked up at him, ready to protest giving him any details, but the look on his face stopped her. He knew absolutely everything about her life—he had been there through everything, and anything else she had willingly told him about—Dean had never judged her for anything, he had always sat there and so patiently listened to her every word. He had always been the first one she would go to with any problem, whatever it was, she had always trusted that she could tell her older brother. He had never made a single comment to make her feel uncomfortable, he had never made her feel as though she were being forced to tell him anything. If she was ever going to talk about it, if anyone was ever going to know about it, she knew it had to be Dean, because he was the only person that she knew truly understood who she was.

"I, uh," She cleared her throat and looked down at her lap as she spoke, unable to face him. "I was sixteen. I went to some stupid house party with some stupid guy and," She shrugged. "You know how it goes. A few too many beers and a couple slipped roofies, that's it. I don't really remember it too good, it's all kinda like one big messed up blur," She shook her head, and he didn't miss how her breath wavered slightly. "But I know what happened to me. I know what he did."

Dean watched her intently. Her face was completely blank as she spoke, the same level of emotion came through in her monotone voice. There was no sign of feelings anywhere, except in her eyes. There was a dark and haunted look on them, shining with unshed tears as she thought back to one of the most horrific and depraved memories she had.

But then something else clicked in Dean's mind, and it took over everything else there. "Wait," He spoke slowly and took a step closer to her, his face the true picture of alarm. "Hold up. I was at that party with you." Jenny looked down, she knew. "I remember that night. I thought you were hammered. Hell, you let me stand there and yell at you the next day for getting into that state." She said nothing. "Jenny," His voice cracked at her name. He moved slowly towards her and took a seat next to her on the bed. "Why didn't you tell me? I could've helped you, I mean, I could've—"

"You couldn't have done anything, Dean." she muttered. "It was done. I just...I wanted to forget it."

"I'm sorry." He closed his eyes for a moment, pushing back his own emotion, and tentatively rested a strong arm around her shoulders. "I'm so sorry, Jen." he whispered, pulling her closer and resting his forehead against the top of her head. He breathed out deeply. "I'm so sorry. That shouldn't have happened to you."

Jenny took a moment to respond but she eventually took the comfort and buried her face into the front of his shoulder. Her hands gripped to his shirt as she clung to him, suddenly needed him there more than she ever had done before. He was the only person she had ever been able to tell. Until that day she hadn't known how well her brother could really read her. Sometimes, she was convinced that he could just hear her thoughts. She didn't know what to say.

Dean felt sick. As he held her, knowing what had happened to her, knowing exactly what she had been put through, it felt surreal. He had been in the same house at the time that had been happening to his sister, and he had never even known about it. If he had just kept her with him, if he had kept an eye on her like he was supposed to, if he had been watching her the way he should have been doing, none of it would have happened. He had to do something. He had to make it right. He had to make it up to her.

"Who was he?" he suddenly asked, his voice now so much darker, potentially lethal. "What was his name?"

Jenny frowned and pulled back to look at him, the tears evident on her cheeks. "Dean, no." She shook her head. "No, it was seven years ago. You are not going to find him now."

"Jenny," Dean snapped, but quickly softened his voice again. He gently wiped the tears from her face and sighed. "I can't let him get away with hurting you like that. Please, you're my sister. I have to make this right, kid. Please." It was like he was begging her to let him amend himself. He needed it. She could see it in his face. "I promise you right now, Jennifer, nothing like that will ever happen to you again, okay?" he told her, his voice soft but firm. "You've got my word."

And Jenny nodded, because she believed him.