Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural in any way, shape, or form. The lyrics in this song are from "Bridge Over Troubled Water" by Simon & Garfunkel, and I do not own those lyrics either

Author's Note: For the longest time, I had this story brewing in my head about John's older brother, Ben. For the longest time, however, everytime I tried to write it came out wrong and horrible. This time I was more satisfied, and I'm crossing my fingers that I was finally able to bring it across the right way!

Warnings: Language, child abuse, no spoilers!

When he looks at his Dean, all he can see is Ben.

.I.

They're screaming and he can't understand why. He climbs out of the crib he's starting to get too big for and lands with a bump of the thin carpet. The door is open a crack and he pushes it open a little bit wider.

They're standing in the middle of the living room, and she has a bag clasped in her hand. "I can't be here anymore, Rick! I just can't take it!"

"Susan, please, just listen to me!" he's yelling, but she's shaking her head and moving for the door. She's throwing it open and casting his father one last angry look.

He pushed the door open wider. "Ma-ma?" he says. They both turn and stare at him, and for a second he thinks that Mommy is starting to come back into the living room but the next second his father is in his face. "What are you doing out here, John?"

The next thing he knows Ben is behind him, pulling on his hand. "C'mon," he says, pulling him on his opposite side, away from his father. He takes him down the hall and into his bedroom.

"Where's Ma-ma?" he asks.

Ben sighs. "John…Mommy's going away."

He tries to process this, but he can't. "No Ma-ma?"

Ben shakes his head sadly, and he starts to cry. Ben pulls him in for a hug.

"It's okay, Johnny…"

He can barely register what he's seeing as he stares up at his wife. "Mary!" he yells.

Sam's cries are drowned out by the roaring of the flames…but her silent screaming is the loudest of all.

Dean is behind him, and he can only think of one thing to do. He grabs the baby. "Take your brother outside as fast as you can! Don't look back!" Dean's eyes lock with his; terrified. "Go, now!"

The next thing he knows Dean is off and running and he's trying to think of what to do. His mind is scrambling before he can realize that there is nothing to do.

He's running down the stairs and as he approaches the door he can hear Dean whispering to his brother…

"It's okay, Sammy…"

.II.

Dad's angry again. Ben tries to explain to him that sometimes when their Dad gets sad, he drinks this stuff that makes him act angry. He isn't quite sure if he understands – why would someone want to drink something that made you throw stuff and act really stupid? – but Ben knows everything, so he trusts him.

Whenever he gets angry, Ben always tells him to go into the bedroom and lock the door. At firsts he protests but Ben bribes him a little bit, telling him that he can play with all of his toys. John's eyes light up at this.

"Even the marine men?"

Ben nods, and ruffles his hair a little bit. "Yeah kiddo, even the marine men."

One afternoon when Dad gets angry, Ben tells him to go into the room and he does. He locks the door and plays with the marine men. Suddenly, though, he hears a loud crashing and his brother crying out in pain. He gets scared, and opens the door, running down the hallway and into the living room.

"Ben?" he cries, and he gasps at what he sees – Dad has Ben pinned against the wall, and blood is coming from his brother's nose like a red river. "Ben?"

His father drops Ben and his brother collapses to the floor in a heap. His father storms over to him, and grabs him by the shirt collar. "Watcha doin' out here, boy? Couldn't listen to your brother?" He's pushing him into the wall, and he's getting scared. His father pushes on his throat and his breath is coming out in little choking gasps.

He hears Ben yell, "No!" and he manages to put himself between his father and his brother.

"Hit me instead…"

They weren't supposed to get hurt.

He tries to get up, but he's pinned down by a table that the spirit pushed over. His leg feels like it's been sawed off, and his vision floats in and out. He can half-hear the fight that Dean is putting up, and he can tell that it is a good one.

He hears Dean come over. "Dad?" he says.

He struggles to open up his eyes and offers a half-smile. "Hey kiddo."

Dean's eyes widen. "Oh crap, we have to get this thing off of you…" Suddenly, they both hear a scream. Dean's head whips around and John's eyes widen when they see that the spirit has materialized, and it has Sam pinned by the neck in the corner, hands over his throat, the gun loaded with rock salt dropped on the floor below him.

"Sammy!" he cries, trying to pull himself up. Dean looks around and grabs a vase, throwing it across the room so that it hits the opposite wall and shatters overtop the spirit. It turns, dropping a gasping Sam to the ground. Dean spreads out his arms, captivating the spirit's attention and distracting it from Sam.

"C'mon…" he says, taunting, "hit me instead…"

.III.

He's hoping that if he can sneak in and slip past Ben, he won't notice and then it won't be a big deal. He opens and door slowly so that it won't squeak and closes it even softer. He puts his books down on the kitchen table and slips through the kitchen…the living room…he's at the bathroom door when suddenly he hears the toilet flush, the sink run, and the door opens.

"Hey John…" his brother says, but suddenly his face is masked in anger. "What happened?"

"What?"

"What the hell happened to your face?"

He considers playing dumb, or making up a story, but Ben wouldn't believe it. Ben knows too much. "It wasn't a big deal."

"Your face is black and blue, your eye is swelling, and your nose is bleeding! Who hurt you?"

He opens and closes his mouth. "I…it really wasn't…" He sighs and stares at the floor. "There were these kids…"

"I swear to God, I'm going to kill them," he says, marching towards the front door, reaching for a jacket. "I am going to absolutely rip them apart!"

"Ben!"

"John, no! They can't do that to you and get away with it, you hear me?"

"Ben," he says, "please…you're just going to make everything worse."

Ben sighs, and he considers for a second before he starts to pull off his jacket. "You sure?"

He nods emphatically. "I really don't want you to."

He hangs up his jacket and nods to the bathroom. "C'mon kiddo…let's get you cleaned up."

He's upstairs working, but he can hear Dean roaring from downstairs. "Sammy, what happened to you?"

He jumps up with every intention of storming downstairs and finding out what happened, but he stops at the top of the rickety staircase and waits for a second.

"Nothing."

"What do you mean 'nothing'? Honestly, do you think I'm a total moron? Who did that to you?"

"No one." Dean raises an eyebrow. "Dean, I slipped on the sidewalk, I swear!"

"Yeah, well, when you slip on a sidewalk you scrape a knee, you bruise an elbow. You don't end up with a fucking black eye and a fucking split lip!"

Sam sighs, tugging on the right sleeve of a sweatshirt that was too small for him. "Dean…"

"I'm going to go kill them, I swear to God…" He's stomping towards the door, steam blowing out of his ears.

"Dean, wait!" Sam grabs his brother's shirt sleeve. "Come on, don't."

"You aren't going to be their punching bag; their whipping boy. I won't allow it!"

Sam gives his brother a pained look, and John watches the expression on his older son's face soften, and the anger begin to melt, like winter turning to spring. He sighs and moved away from the door, swinging an arm around his brother's shoulder.

"C'mon kiddo…let's get you cleaned up."

.IV.

He's lying in the hospital bed when he hears the door creak open. He looks up and sees his brother, shuffling in. He tries to sit up a little bit, which makes his whole body ache even more. "What are you doing in here?" he croaks.

Ben only shrugs one arm, because the other is casted. He pulls a chair over to sit next to his brother's bed.

"Do the doctors know that you're out of your room?"

Ben glances up at him with haunted eyes. "We can't stay."

"What?"

"We can't stay with Dad anymore. I'm getting you out of there, it's too dangerous."

"But…"

"I…I thought…" He looks away for a second. "I thought you were going to die," he says, voice cracking, "and I wouldn't be able to live with myself if you died."

"But I still have school; I'm supposed to graduate in a few months."

His brother shakes his head. "We can't stay that long. Dad…he's getting worse, and you know what, kiddo? I'm afraid that I'm not going to be able to keep you safe anymore."

John sighs, and shifts a little bit in his bed, stifling a groan. "Come on Ben, I'm almost eighteen. It isn't your job to protect me anymore."

Ben looks at him like he's insane. "You're my brother. It's always my job to protect you…"

He never liked hospitals. They're always too white, too clean, and especially too nosey.

But he took one look at his son and knew that the injury wasn't something he could patch up himself, and he needed to get to a hospital fast.

He sat on the side of the bed, holding his son's hand, listening to his gentle breathing. He was alive and well; nothing else mattered.

Suddenly he hears the door creak open. He turned and saw that it was Sam, a white dressing covering the stitches on his forehead, a crutch underneath his left arm.

"Nurses say you could be in here?" he asks sternly.

Sam offers his best "Authority-can-bite-my-ass" grin that is usually plastered on Dean's face. "I don't care."

John sighs and rolls his eyes, and Sam speaks again. "Is he awake? I wanted to talk to him."

"No, he's still pretty much –"

"Yeah, I'm awake." He turns and sees Dean, struggling to keep his eyes open. "Hey Sammy." His face contorts in pain as he boosts himself up in bed.

John glances from one son to the other, and then gets up. "I'm going to go get a bite to eat," he says, making his way out of the room, leaving the two in peace.

He pulls the door shut most of the way and then sits down in the hallway outside, leaning up against the wall. This way, he thinks, if it gets really ugly he can intervene.

"What is your fucking problem!" Sam yells. It's supposed to be a question, but it sure doesn't come out that way.

"What?"

"Why do you always have to be the big hero, huh?"

His elder son's sigh is loud and raspy. "It's not about being the big hero, Sam."

"Uh-huh? What is it about then, Dean?"

"It's about keeping you safe."

"Okay, see, there's a difference between wanting to keep me safe and throwing yourself into the line of fire."

"I did not throw myself into the line of fire!"

"Dude, one second the Raw is coming after me and the next thing I know you're in front of me and the fucker ripping you open."

"Yeah…well…"

"Dean, I can take a punch every now and again! I mean, it's not like I'm a little kid anymore! I'm eighteen, and you don't need to constantly protect me anymore."

Dean snorts. "Who are you kidding? You're my brother…it's always my job to protect you…"

.V.

The date is January 24, 1974.

They're flying down a back road, laughing and blasting music. "Dude, we should have done this years ago!" he laughs.

Ben nods. "Tell me about it. I haven't felt this great in…well, I don't think I've ever felt this great."

John laughs and turns on the radio, and 'Bridge Over Trouble Water' is playing.

"Augh," Ben says, "switch it before I kill myself!"

John laughs and is reaching to switch it when his brother shouts. He barely has time to react at all before the world flips upside down, glass and metal rain down over his head, and he yells for his brother…

And friends just can't be found

Like a bridge over troubled water

He has to switch this off…Ben hates this song.

Where's Ben?

I will lay me down

Like a bridge over troubled water

Where is he?

He forces his eyes to open, and an EMT is standing over him. "Gerry!" he yells. "Come on, quick!" He kneels down and starts checking over him. "You're okay, son."

John flinches. "Where's Ben? Someone needs to turn off the music. He hates this song…" he groans.

"It's okay son, you're going to be alright."

They're loading him into an ambulance and inside of his mind he's screaming for his brother, but outside he can't say a thing.

They don't tell him Ben is gone until later that day. Their father had apparently gotten wind of what had happened and what they were doing, and he followed them. He plowed his truck over the car. Ben died with his body thrown over that of his brother's.

His father would go to jail, he was assured. He was just down the hall, recuperating himself. "He'll be in jail for a good, long time, son. You're going to be safe."

The only thing that kept him from ripping his father's head off right there were the nurses who restrained him and the sedatives that they shot into him.

The funeral nearly tears him apart. He's standing, staring at the casket and not even really processing what is happening when he hears a whisper rush through the crowd. He turns and sees that his father is limping over towards the gravesite, accompanied by two police officers.

He storms over, pushes away the police officers, and punches his father in the face as hard as he can muster. The man falls over but he barely notices.

He runs away.

He goes to the nearest bus station and rides, trying to clear his head.

He joins the Marines.

He never goes back home…it hurts too much.

The date is January 24, 1979, and he is sitting next to his wife. She has the healthy newborn in her arms.

"How about," she says, her voice soft and warm, "we name him Ben?"

John shakes his head. He can't do that; it hurts too much.

However, it doesn't shake the fact that when he looks at Dean, all he can see is Ben.

-end-