Underneath The Silken Feathers

Chapter 1 - Angels And Bruises

"AND DON'T YOU DARE DISRESPECT ME IN MY HOUSE EVER AGAIN. YOU READ ME, BOY?!"

His father shouted down the hall as Dean quickly escaped to his room, holding his bloodied cheek. Tears flooded Dean's eyes and swam down his face, trying to hold back sobs as he closed and locked the door frantically behind him. He stood for a moment, letting the pain slowly sink in. Dean held his stomach in his arm, he could feel the black and blue that was forming there where his father had beaten him. He leaned his head back up against the door, and sank down to the floor. Dean lifted his legs to his face and slowly wrapped his arms around them, letting his head fall on his knees; forming a fetal position. He finally let his tears flow, and sobbed into his knees.

Dean shook uncontrollably and just let himself fall into his own depression. His fathers words were echoing through his head and Dean tried desperately to get them to go away.

"Useless"

"Nothing but a useless piece of shit"

"Failure of a son"

"Fucking fag, how am I even you're father?"

"Why don't you just fucking kill yourself already? Why are you still HERE?!"

"It's your fault that your mother died. She'd still be here if you hadn't been born."

Johns voice was swimming through his head, and his mind was threatening to break under the intense pressure.

"You killed her."

"I don't CARE if you're bisexual, you like MEN and that's all that I see."

"When will you be out of my life?"

"I don't need you. Your brother doesn't need you. The world would be much better without you. And yet, you're still here. Making my life A LIVING HELL.

The razor blade was in Dean's hand without even realizing he had gotten up and pulled it out of his drawer. With tears still streaming his face, sobs still hiccuped from his throat, he lifted up his sleeves; Revealing scars that were still healing from recent cutting the other day.

"Just fucking do it already"

He went into his bathroom and shut the door, and sat down on the toilet seat. Dean slowly brought up his arm and held the cold razor next to his already vulnerable skin. He just wanted to numb the pain. Just get rid of the horrible voice that was still pounding in his head, just for a little while.

With trembling fingers, he sliced a thin line into his skin. Deeper with ever slice.

Bam bam bam bam bam.

A pounding came to the door which made Dean jump. His eyes widened with terror, praying to every God that exists that his father would just leave him alone.

"D-Dean... O....open u-up. Please. Don't hurt yourself again I need you. Please big brother."

Dean was relived to hear his little brother Sammy on the other side of the door instead of his father. But another fear was sent through his nerves at the thought of Sam seeing him like this. Again.

With a painful sob, he shouted at the door. "Sammy. Don't c-come in. Please. Hide under the bed and don't come out. Dad could be h..-here any moment." Dean was trembling terribly and his voice was wavering.

Without another word, Sam was able to pick through the lock. A technique he had learned from Dean. As soon as he knew Sam could see him, he broke down. Dean was on the floor within seconds, sobbing uncontrollably.