I thought this story needed a little more, and this is what I came up with. It focuses on John and when he first received Dean's message…

Oh, and this story takes place BEFORE 'Shadow' – sorry for the error on that in the last chapter.

Until The End

2

John sat in a ratty chair, pouring over piles of notes and documents, all of them containing information on the demon that had killed Mary. He yawned widely and looked at the time, surprised when he realized that it was already two in the morning. He had been reading non stop for nearly three hours.

Groaning, John stood up and stretched out his cramped muscles. He walked towards the window and stared out at the swirling snowstorm. The flakes were so thick that you could barely see the motel's neon sign, which at the moment was flashing with the word 'Vacancy'.

Pressing his head up against the foggy glass, John couldn't help but think of his boys. Sam had loved the snow as a little kid, and was always dragging a protesting Dean outside to make snowmen and build snow forts. I wonder what they're doing right now? He mused, a small smile gracing his face when he remembered the message Sam had left him yesterday…

"Hey dad, I just wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas, wasn't sure when you'd get this message, so I figured I'd call early just in case…and yes, I know, I know, the holiday isn't really thought about by you or Dean but…I dunno, I guess I just wanted to call. Hope you're doing alright…wherever you are…Right then, bye…"

John had been getting Christmas messages from Sam ever since the boy had left for Stanford (they had gotten less and less awkward sounding throughout the years), and he was sure Dean had gotten them as well. He had never mentioned getting the messages to his oldest; it just felt like a private thing between him and Sam.

The Christmas messages always put a smile on John's otherwise hardened face.

Lapsing in his thoughts, John didn't realize his cell was ringing until his answering machine clicked. Walking over to the bed, he saw that the missed call was from Dean. He doesn't usually call this late, even if it is to boast about a hunt the two of them finished. Frowning, he put the phone to his ear and impatiently waited for the voicemail to come on. Finally, after what seemed like hours, he heard Dean's voice.

"Dad? Uhmmm you ah, you gotta call me…please dad, call me okay? I…I don't know how to say this…" he let out a little sob before continuing, "…d-dad…ah, S-sammy…he uh…oh God dad, he…he's d-dead…a w-wendigo…d-dad I…I c-can't handle t-this alone…uhmmmm alright I uh, I guess just call me…okay?"

The cell phone fell from the father's hand, and he collapsed onto the bed in shock. John felt himself trembling violently as Dean's words echoed through his head. No, that can't be right. Sammy just called me yesterday! Tears threatened to fall but he held them back stubbornly and picked his phone up off of the floor.

John hit the number one speed dial on his list, put the phone to his ear and started lacing his boots with one hand. Dean's phone rang and rang but the boy never picked up, and the eldest Winchester knew right then and there that that was a bad sign. He would never intentionally ignore my calls. Ignoring the queasiness that settled in his stomach, he hurriedly gathered all of his belongings, hit redial, and marched out to his waiting truck. He said it was a Wendigo…they must still be in Jacksonville…

John felt the bile rise in his throat at the thought, if his boys were in Jacksonville, if Sammy was dead…fuck I sent them on that damn hunt, fuck! The hunter turned the keys in the ignition and peeled out onto the slippery roads, not bothering to let the engine warm up first.

The roads were horrible, and the visibility was zero, but John Winchester drove like a bat out of hell, knowing that it would take him at least two hours to reach the single hospital that occupied Jacksonville. As he drove he alternated between calling Dean (who still wasn't picking up) and listening to the message Sam had left him the day before.

The father clung to his youngest son's voice desperately, unable to fathom the idea that he would never hear it again. You can't be dead, I need to tell you how sorry I am for pushing you away, I need to tell you that I love you. "Dean overreacted, he always does when it comes to Sammy," John reasoned with himself, "He probably is just hurt more badly than usual…"

A little bit of hope flared in John's chest.

It was two hours (and five near accidents later) before John passed the town sign, but he didn't slow down as he sped through the residential streets. The snow was still thick and falling fast, but he spotted the looming hospital building as it came into view, its windows alight with activity.

His ageing heart pounded faster than it already was, and John was almost sure he was going to have a heart attack right then and there. Looking away from the hospital, he fixed his eyes back on the road and immediately slammed on the brakes. "Fuck!" He yelled out as he fishtailed on the road, stopping inches away from the man he had nearly hit.

His headlights lit the figure up, and John gasped when he realized it was Dean. Even from where he sat he could see the look on his oldest son's face. No…no! John growled to himself, he wouldn't believe Sammy was gone until Dean told him face to face.

John hopped out of the cab, and called to his son gently. He could hear himself asking where Sam was, and his heart sank when he saw the tear fall down Dean's haggard face.

No, Sammy…NO!

And as John opened his arms to his remaining son, he found himself thinking about the message Sammy had left him…the last piece of his son that he had left.

That message would remain on his phone until the day he died.

Finis

Ok…so that is the real end, I swear! Hope you enjoyed this little add on! Oh, and I wrote and posted it quick, so I apolpgize if I missed and spelling or grammar errors.