Dean knew certain things, even from a young age. He knew how to hold a gun or knife properly. He knew things boys his age shouldn't have. Nightmares and little human horrors that plagued the world. Vampires, demons and simple, terrible starvation.

But most importantly - he knew he had to take care of his siblings, Sam and their youngest sibling. No matter what, no matter how unfair it was - he had to watch out for them.

Dad was drunk tonight. Back from a bad hunt and already halfway through a six-pack and with no signs of slowing down. And of course, their youngest sibling had innocently decided they wanted to see him - wanted to cheer him up with some stupid, childish thing that would inevitably be rebuffed at best. He didn't want to think about the worst case scenario.

Leaning against the kitchen counter, Dean moved fast and intercepted you before you could get to the sofa.

"C'mon. No, no. C'mere. I wanna show you something."

Hands on your shoulders, he turned you right around and ushered you away from your father and down the hall to your rooms. He'd distract you until you hopefully forgot about going anywhere near Dad tonight. Hopefully then you'd fall asleep and give your father a chance to sober up by morning.

Evenings like this, Dean hated Dad being back almost as much as he hated Dad being gone and leaving everything to him.

But he could never hate you. Never. He'd protect you and Sammy from everyone and anything - and that included your father.