A/N: Yes, so I know there are not too many John Winchester fans out there. But after the Faith episode, I needed a reason why there was no further mentioning of him, even if I made it up. Hope you enjoy! R&R please!
"Hey Dad,it's Sam. You probably won't even get this, but, uh, it's Dean, he's sick. And the doctor's say there's nothing they can do..."
My heart stopped. I couldn't breathe. Air was swirling around me, but none reached my lungs. The bright Sacremento sun flickered through the draped window of my curtained motel room. How could the day be so gorgeous when my life was turning upside down?
"...But, uh, they don't know the things we do, right? So don't worry..."
My wonderful son. He was trying his hardest not to make me worry. Not worry about my oldest son dying, alone, in some hospital bed.
"...Cause I'm gonna do whatever it takes to get him back..."
Soft, salty liqiuds began to form in my eyes. Something I hadn't felt in years. Something I believed I was immune to.
"Alright, just wanted you to know."
"Oh, kiddo. What happened?" Hitting the END button on my cell phone, I ran a rough hand through my hair. I taught Dean to always protect his younger brother. I taught him to always keep him safe. I never took the time to teach Sam those lessons. Because, somewhere, lodged deep in my mind, I always thought Sam would be the first to get hurt. Sam would be the one who drew the short straw. Not Dean. Not my oldest. He was the perfect hunter. Never messed up on anything.
Poor Sammy. I knew he wouldn't be able to handle Dean's death. The two were conected by such a great force, even I couldn't break through.
I knew one day it would come to this. I would pick up my phone, see some hospital number, and find out that one of my boys was dead. But that was supposed to be after I found Mary's murderer. After Sam had gotten closure. After the hunting was through.
I scrolled through my messages once more. I hadn't thought anything of it when Joshua called me. Figured he just wanted to catch up, shoot the breeze. But as I listened to his shaky voice and rushed reasoning, my heart dropped. He was telling me about Dean. About the faith healer. About how he told Sam to go there.
I threw the phone across the room, not caring if it broke. I wanted to get the carrier of bad news away from me. I wanted it shatter so I wouldn't have to deal with the messages any longer.
"Damn it!" I yelled softly into my hands. Sam hadn't even said good-bye in the message. The man was still furious at me for all I'd done. Who could blame him? I demanded they stop looking for me and continue hunting. Which, ultimatly, ended up killing one of them.
Chucking the remote across the room also, I imagined what Sam was doing at that moment. He had just called not five minutes ago. I waited patiently for my answering machine to pick up and him say what he had to.
He was probably next to his brother's bed, watching Dean watch t.v. Never leaving his side. Clutching onto the last memories he would share with his brother with a deadly grip.
I debated over grabbing the room phone and throwing it too, but resigned to hold one of the pillows and pace. It was then more than ever that I saw where Dean got his traits. Sam was like Mary, calm and somber. But Dean had taken after myself in so many ways. Throwing things, punching things, yelling at nothing.
After walking from the door to the bathroom a few times I finally knew what I had to do. Joshua had told me about Roy before. Told me a lot of people went there... if I sat in the back, they wouldn't even see me.
Just like in Kansas, I would have to use every willpower I owned not to show up on their doorstep, begging them to come along with me. It was hard enough hearing about them from Missouri, I hated the thought of actually seeing them.
-----
I pulled my old black truck into one of the mud parking spaces. I could see a young guy standing in front of the enormous tent, putting away what looked like yellow flyers. The service had already started, I determined, from the music running out if the tent and settled parking lot.
Immediatly my eyes found Dean's precious Impala. The same Impala I'd made him earn on his sixteenth birthday. The same car he snuck off in four years ago to go spend the weekend with Sam at Stanford.
With a solemn heart I made my way through the rain-soaked ground and into the tent. I said a silent prayer, pleading with the Lord for them not to be sitting in the back. I was guessing that Sam wanted Dean healed pretty bad, and would have taken a front row seat, had he had the chance.
My instinct hadn't failed. As I was taking a seat near the middle of the last row, I found Sam instantly. It wasn't difficult. The man had grown to be the size of a small giant and his curly brown locks stood out from the other sickly people.
My eyes remained locked on the my youngest. I feared letting them drift to the left, to catch a glimpse of Dean. As much as I had convinced myself on the car ride over that I could handle seeing him, I doubted myself.
"Sorry," I heard the familar, deep, ragged voice of the twenty six year old. It didn't surprise me that the man was apologizing. Roy had said something heartfelt , and Dean had turned it into a joke. Just like in school when the teacher was attempting to instill young kids with knowledge.
"No, no, don't be. Just be careful what you say around a blind man...we got real sharp ears." Good, the healer had notcied Dean. Had turned his attention to his needs.
I was still refusing to look at him. The pain would be too great, I knew.
"What's your name, son?"
"Dean."
"I want you to come up here." A thunder of clapping went off. Yes, that was it. He had seen my son. Knew how important it was for him to live. That was what I needed.
"No, it's okay," Damn it! There was yet another quality I'd given him. Stubborness of a mule.
"You came here to be healed, haven't you?" Of course! Now get on with it! Get your ass up there son!
"Well, yeah, but, uh, pick someone else." I had to resist the urge not to yell at him. To give him an order. An order to go help himself. To think about what he was saying. I watched little Sammy as he pushed his older brother's arm, practically begging him to go up there. I knew he'd fill in my place of persuading.
I heard Roy tell him something else, but the woman next to me prevented me from hearing it. Between concentrating on keeping my eyes on Sam and the everyone's pleading, I was surpirsed when I saw a figure stand up.
No preparing could have saved me from the pain that seared in my heart and soul when I finally saw my oldest. My little soldier.
He wasn't wearing his bad ass leather jacket that he forced me into buying one day on the road. His hair was dishelved and sticking out everywhere. But none of that was half as bad as the man's expression. I'd seen that look only one other time in his life. When the firemen were checking him over and he was staring back at our house, where his mother had just perished. It was a look of hurt and failure and fear. One that assured me he had given up on living.
I watched as his pale skin approached the healer. He looked briefly into the crowd and I feared, for an instant, that he saw me. But if he had, he ignored the situation, turning to talk to Roy.
The two exchanged hushed words. I hoped desperatly that Roy hadn't changed his mind. That Dean was worthy enough to get saved.
"You ready? Pray with me please." I bowed my head, but was not talking to the same person as everyone else. Instead, I spoke to Mary. My savior still after all these years. I asked her to help Dean. To keep him with Sam. To not take him with her yet. "Please, honey," I mumbled. "I'm not done with him yet. I need him here. He's my little soldier. And Sammy sure as hell needs him. You know that boy will die the moment Dean does...don't take him yet."
I was so caught up in making deals with my dead wife, that I didn't hear Dean fall to the floor. I didn't hear the crowd's intake of breath when his body met with the wooden stage. Only when Sam's voice yelled through the tent did I come back to reality.
"Dean! Say something!" It seemed time stopped in those few moments before Dean regained concsiousness. There was a lump in my throat that no swallowing could get rid of, and I felt beads of sweat form on my forehead. I knew this was Dean's last resort, if Roy hadn't helped him, my son would die.
I watched as Sam helped lift Dean off the ground, helped him back to his seat. I knew if I wanted to escape without being seen I'd have to do it then. But a part of me wanted them to see me. To have them know I did care about them. And that I was worried.
But just like in Kansas, I knew that idea was impossible. My two children could not see me until I'd finished what I'd started.
Standing up, I made my way back to my vehicle, slowly, and with my head hung low. Dean was healed. Sam had his hero back, and my warrior was back. I was sure both would hold it against me for not seeking them out, and one day, when another oppurtunity arises, I will show them that I've been there. Honestly, I was surprised that hadn't figured it out already. Dean must have told Sam I stopped by the campus to see him. And surely with the powers he was recieving he knew I was in Kansas the same time as him.
I sat in the driver's seat of my car, staring at the drizzly wheather. I knew if I wanted to make it back to California before tomorrow morning I had to get going; my job in Nebraska was done. I saw Dean get saved, and I knew they could figure out how to put an end to the black magic. Even with their guilt-ridden hearts, they'd kill that SueAnn woman and stop any more innocent people from dying.
A single tear ran down my cheek. Four months ago, when I snooped around this place, something told me to not uncover it quite yet. That it might prove good for awhile. I couldn't have guessed that it would have helped my boys.
Taking a quick glance at the Impala again, I said softly. "I love you boys." Without another thought, I put my hunter's mode mindset on, and left the only family I had once more, silently thanking whoever had died for Dean.