Bruised and Battered

Freedom

Waking up, you could immediately tell your parents were back. There was the distinct smell of alcohol filling the room, along with the cheap, disgusting perfume your Mom had always worn. Without opening your eyes, you could hear the grunts and moans, and with a sense of dread, you knew exactly what was going on.

"The bitch is awake." Your Dad grunted, before you could hear skin slapping skin, and you wanted to do nothing more than retch. "Maybe we should have her join us. That would be fun."

"Ugh, I might be a Demon, but I ain't into that. We're in her parent's you idiot." Your Mom answered back, and for once you were grateful at something your Mom said.

Keeping your eyes closed, you wished they would hurry up and get it over with. Trying anything to block out the sounds, it took you a moment to register that you weren't as sore as before. Castiel had gone against your wishes, healing some of your major injuries. Hopefully, he hadn't healed them all, otherwise you would have hell to pay from your parents.

Hearing a high, screeching wail and a loud grunt, you knew they were done. Keeping your eyes closed, you could hear them shuffling around, putting clothes on before your Dad reached over, slapping you across the head. "Hey prude, you can open those eyes up now."

Peering carefully out of one eye, you could see your Mom still lounging in bed, a stupid, sated look on her face. Your Dad had gone to the fridge, pulling out a beer. With a sigh, you stood up to use the bathroom, carefully making a wide berth around your Dad who peered at you curiously. "Your moving well for a busted body. Maybe we didn't work hard enough last time. We'll have to try better today, won't we honey?"

"I can't wait." Your Mom answered from her spot on the bed. Racing past him, you shut the door to the bathroom, sighing in disappointment when you realized the lock on the door was broken. Searching around the small room, you saw a nice sized window in the corner, big enough for you to crawl through. Racing over, you tried to pry it open, beating your hand against it when you realized it had been painted shut.

Almost in tears because you knew nothing but pain awaited you on the other side of the door, you sat down on the toilet, quickly doing your business. As you sat there, you noticed something shiny sticking out from underneath the vanity. Reaching down, you gasped in surprised when you pulled out the Winchester's Demon killing knife. A note lay across it, and you quickly opened it, just as your Dad pounded on the door. "Hurry up in there, you useless bitch!"

"Y/N, I hope you find this. Dean doesn't know I gave it to you. Even though it pains me, I followed your wishes. He's even more furious with you, but I can tell him, make him understand. Just pray to me, if anything changes."

Hugging the note to your chest, you sent a silent thank you to the air, before placing the note back under the vanity far enough they couldn't find it. Nervously nibbling on your lip, you slid the knife into the back of your pants, hoping the handle wouldn't be visible.

Suddenly, the door flew open, and your Dad reached in, grabbing you by the hair and pulling you out. "Took too damn long in there." He muttered, tossing you onto the ground. Wincing as the blade cut into the back of your thigh, you scrambled back, away from your Dad. "It's time for fun."

Reaching down, he grabbed you by the hair again, slamming your head back into the wall, before bringing his knee up, kicking you in the ribs. Gasping in pain, you blindly reached behind you, as your Dad pulled out a knife of his own. With an evil smile on his face, he slashed downwards, the knife slicing through your shirt, and skin. Screeching in pain, you tried to move away, only for him to stomp on your freshly healed leg, breaking it once again. "Damn bitch, you are one strong piece of shit. Maybe we should have possessed you."

Taking the knife, he ran it along your cheek, as your Mother watched happily from the bed. As the white-hot pain raced through your system, your hand latched onto the handle of the blade. With a loud scream, you brought it up, slamming it into your father's chest before he could even blink. Watching as he flashed orange, you pulled the blade from his lifeless body, pushing it until it fell to the ground.

"You slut, what did you do?" Your Mom growled, but before she could even think, you were on her. Sure, your leg was on fire, blood pouring from your wounds, old and new, but you didn't feel it. All you felt was the rage from so many years of being tortured. Of having to give up happiness with Dean time and time again. With a ferocious yell, you brought the blade down, slicing into her skin over and over again. Watching as her body flashed orange, you brought it down one more time, breathing hard.

Pulling it from her lifeless body, you limped away, staring at the wreckage. There were huge piles of blood on the floor, both of your parents laying vacant and bloody. Feeling faint from pain and blood loss, you leaned against the wall for a moment, before opening the door and stepping out. Wobbling around the side of the motel, you made your way to the woods, grabbing a piece of wood to make a makeshift crutch.

Sure, you knew you could pray to Cas, have him come and fix you up once again. But you weren't sure what Dean's reception would be, even when you told him the truth. Knowing you had probably burnt your bridge there, you knew you could make it on your own. Freeing yourself from your parents had been exactly what you needed, giving you the confidence boost to know that you could survive.

Knowing you needed to find a hospital, you set off down the sidewalk, wondering what your future would hold.