Trigger warning for abuse.

Eleven year old Dean Winchester hated when his dad was drunk. John was usually a pretty responsible drinker, but there were a few nights when he had too many. Tonight was one of those nights. Dean didn't blame his father, tonight was the anniversary of Mary's death. They both grieved in different ways. John drank himself to sleep on the couch watching old movies, and Dean sat out on the porch of a dirty motel room, staring up at the sky. He wondered if his mother was watching him.

"What'cha doing?" Seven year old Sammy wandered out onto the porch.

"Shh, you'll wake him up."

Sam rolled his eyes and sat next to his brother. "So what?"

"Sam, you know how he gets when he's drunk."

"I wish he didn't drink."

"Come on, he doesn't drink that often."

"Yeah he does! He's always got a bottle in his hand."

Dean shrugged. Sam was right, as much as he hated to admit it. "Okay, but he doesn't get drunk a lot."

"Whatever. I'm going to bed. Are you coming?"

"I'll be there in a minute."

Sam nodded and went back into the house. A few moments later, Dean heard the unmistakable sound of glass breaking. He jumped to his feet and rushed inside, where he saw Sam standing over a broken glass.

"What happened?"

"I...I was getting a drink and my hand slipped..." Sam stammered.

"It's okay, Sammy. Go get the broom." His little brother scampered off to find it just as a sleepy John walked in from the other room.

"What the hell is this?" He glared at the broken glass.

"It was an accident." Dean kept his head down. "I'm sorry."

In an instant, John had Dean up against the wall by his collar. "You're sorry, sir." He corrected.

"Yes, I'm sorry, Sir."

"It was me." Sam stood in the doorway, holding the broom.

John released Dean. "What did you say?"

"It was me. I dropped the glass."

"Come here." Moving surprisingly fast for being intoxicated, John grabbed Sam, and in one swift movement, bent him over his knee and began to spank him.

"Stop it!" Dean yelled.

John looked shocked. His son had never yelled at him before. He roughly pushed Sam away, and backhanded Dean across the face. "Don't you ever talk back to me again, boy!" He shouted with rage.

Dean cowered on the floor. "I...I'm sorry, sir."

"Don't let it happen again." John turned and went back to the living room.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Dean ran to Sam. Are you okay, Sammy?"

The younger Winchester sniffled. "Yeah."

"Let's get out of here." Dean had considered running away when their dad was drunk before, but never acted on it. John laying a hand on Sammy was the last straw. They needed to get out of here for a while, even if it was just until he was sober.

Sam stared at Dean, eyes wide. "Where would we go?"

Dean paused. He hadn't thought about that. Then it hit him. "Uncle Bobby. He can help us."

Sam nodded. "I'll go get the cell phone."

"No!" Dean said in a hushed voice, grabbing his brother's arm. "Dad will be able to check the last caller and know where we went. I have a quarter; let's use that payphone a few blocks over."

"Okay." Sam sounded scared.

"It's okay, kid. Let's go."

They quietly made their way to the front door, and Dean slowly opened it. He cringed at the small creak, but was relieved when both he and Sam were able to slip out without too much noise.

"Run." Dean whispered to Sam. He took his little brother's hand, and together they sprinted away from the motel. After one block, Sam begged Dean to slow down.

"Can't...breathe..."

"It's okay, Sammy. I'll carry you. Get on." He leaned over, allowing Sam to climb onto his back.

Once Sam was able to catch his breath, he giggled. "I like piggy-back rides."

Dean smiled. They continued to approach the phone booth at a fast pace, using the street lamps for light. Dean ignored the burning in his lungs. He needed to get Sammy away from here.

When they finally reached the payphone, Dean slipped a quarter into the slot. He dialed Bobby's number and prayed that he would answer.

"Who is this, and how did you get this number?"

Dean sighed with relief at the familiar grumbling voice. "It's Dean."

There was a pause. "Dean? What's going on?" The older man sounded surprised.

"Can you come get me and Sam?"

"Why, what's going on?"

"Dad's drinking. He hurt Sam. Can we stay with you just for tonight?" Dean tried to keep his voice steady, but he knew Bobby could tell he was scared.

"That bastard. Where are you? I'll be there as soon as I can."

Dean rattled off the address. Luckily they weren't too far from Sioux Falls.

They settled in, knowing it would be about an hour before Bobby could get there. Making themselves as small as possible, They snuggled together for warmth under Dean's jacket in the corner of the phone booth.

"I'm sorry." Sam sniffled.

"What for?"

"This is my fault. If I hadn't broken the glass-"

"Hey! This is not your fault, you hear me?" Dean looked into his brother's tear-filled hazel eyes. "This is not on you. It's on Dad."

"Okay." Sam said quietly, not sounding convinced.

"Try to get some sleep." Dean adjusted his arm so Sam could rest his head on his shoulder.

An hour later, Dean heard the sound of a car's engine just outside the phone booth. He instinctively tightened his hold on Sammy.

Please be Bobby. Please be Bobby. Please don't be Dad...

The door slid open, and Dean's breath caught in his throat.

"Aw, hell. It's just me, kiddo."

He exhaled. "Thanks, Uncle Bobby." He shifted just enough to wake Sam.

"Hmmm..." The kid muttered sleepily. "Bobby!" He opened his eyes and smiled.

"Let's get you kids out of here."

Bobby glanced in his rearview mirror. Dean was wide awake, and on high-alert. He had his arm around Sam, who was asleep on his lap. Dean's eyes kept shifting, terror flashing in them whenever they passed another car.

"Relax, kid. You're safe now."

Dean jumped, and Bobby felt bad.

"Sorry, kid."

"It's okay." Dean grinned sheepishly. "I guess I'm just a little jumpy."

An hour later, they finally reached Bobby's house. The older man picked Sam up and carried him inside. He laid Sam on a bed in the guest room, and turned to Dean. "Let's go in the kitchen. No need to wake him up."

They walked into the kitchen, and Bobby flipped on the light. Dean immediately ducked his head like he was hiding something.

"What's wrong, boy?" Dean flinched at that word, and Bobby felt sick as he realized that's what John called him.

"Nothing." Dean kept his head down.

"Dean." Bobby said softly. "Let me see your face."

Hesitantly, the boy looked up, unable to meet Bobby's eyes.

"That son of a bitch!" Bobby breathed as he saw the welt under Dean's eye. It would leave a nasty bruise. He felt rage rising inside him, and he willed himself to stay calm. The boys needed him right now. He could beat the shit out of John later.

"It's not that bad." Dean said quietly.

Bobby frowned, and went to the freezer for some ice. "Hold that on there." He instructed. "You said he hurt Sam, not you."

"He spanked Sam. Hard. I thought he was gonna do worse, so I yelled at him to stop. It's my own fault, I shouldn't have yelled at him."

Bobby shook his head. These poor boys had been through enough. Dean was always watching out for his little brother. This probably wasn't the first time the man had laid a hand on Dean, but as soon as Sam was in danger, the older Winchester took immediate action. It was heartbreaking.

"It wasn't your fault. Your dad's a real piece of work. You know you can call me anytime, right?

"I know."

Bobby sighed. "I want you to stay with me for a while."

Dean looked up, eyes wide. "Are you sure? You don't have to do this, Bobby. We'll be okay on our own."

"Son, please stay with me. Just for a while till your dad pulls his head out of his ass."

Dean smiled. "Thanks." He hugged the older man, and as Bobby held him close, he realized how thin Dean was.

"Have you been eating at all?"

The boy shrugged. "Dad doesn't leave us a lot for food. But I always make sure Sam has enough." He added proudly.

Bobby felt a profound sadness. No 11 year old should have to choose between feeding himself and feeding his brother. "Sit down. I'll whip somethin' together."

As he watched Dean shovel pancakes into his mouth, Bobby realized how neglectful his friend truly was. If he had it his way, these boys would never go back to that bastard.

In the next chapter, John comes to Bobby's house and gets cussed out for being an asshole. I'll probably get around to writing it tomorrow. Let me know if you like the story so far! Please review. Leave any suggestions you have :)