March 12, 1990

It's getting closer to the equinox and I'm at square one. It's so frustrating, I've been on this case for almost 3 weeks now but records are scarce. There's not much to look at in way of evidence, certainly none that I would've picked up on when I moved here and now that I'm actively looking there seems to be even less. There's an old saying that if you're looking for something the best thing to do is not look for it, which makes no sense but I think I do need a break. It's funny that it takes a broken arm and a heart attack to finally bring me down for a bit. I'm worried though, because I'm just so helplessly lost with Dean's case I just don't know where to go in order to continue.

When this is done and over with I'm going to drop the boys off with Jim and take care of the river nixe, right now I can't very well hunt her with a broken arm, much less kill her. What really gets me though is that she knew so much about my family, about Mary. It raises questions, a lot of questions, and fears. Lots of questions and no answers… which is an unfortunate trend in my life.

I wish there was a way to rewind and start over these few months. Hell, I'd rewind my whole life if I could, do things differently. I'm beginning to wonder how much I could have prevented, how much of what my family has been through was my fault. If I had just looked into this town more I could have done something about this, or if I had taken that Christmas hunt when I had originally intended to rather than going to work that week. Sorting through the course of my own life I have to ask if I hadn't been there would something still have happened? If I had been in bed that night? Would I have been the one to check on Sam? Instances and hunts like this though are the ones that get me – it's a set pattern, one I should have seen… but even if I had I probably would've dove right in and hunted it regardless of the danger I was subjecting my boys to.

Sam's been asking things, things I really want to keep from him. Hunting is something I don't want him to know about, and even if I did, this thing with Dean is definitely not the way I wanted to do so. It would be too much like how Dean found out, with Mary and again later with me killing that shifter. Sam though, there's only so much I can say to him, he doesn't know about Mary, he doesn't even know the fears I have about him. He's special, that's what the nixe had said. How much should I believe her? I know that there's no way she can lie, but they can certainly bend the truth. He could be special at… I don't know… underwater basket weaving for Christ's sake. I don't have the time for these things right now, no distractions in Dean's hunt. I need to take a step back, look at things with fresh eyes, and go from there.

The more I think about it, the more I think there has to be a poison of some type or a witch. No creature that I know of can get their claws in like this and kill on such a specific date. Poison could explain Dean's early symptoms, but a sort of supernatural trip wire would be the best fit that I can think of. Unfortunately that means I have to go back to the river, where my last date didn't go as well as I planned. A trip wire would mean I'll have to look for hex bag or something, but if Evans was right and this thing originates in the forest it could be anywhere, and I'm running out of time for anywhere. Not only that, but a spell of this nature requires some serious mojo, and to keep it running for decades like this… I'm in over my head if this is a warlock. I hope to find something in the next few days, or else I may start to get desperate and just torch the whole forest, maybe even all the cemeteries in the area just to be safe. Which wouldn't be that bad of an idea now that I think of it.

Sam's getting antsy; it's as if he knows something's up with me and Dean. I hope that he's not picking up on my urgency, because I don't need him worrying like that. It's bad enough for him that Dean's sick, and that I'm running off finding new and creative ways to land myself in a hospital bed. It'd be worse if he knew Dean could die if I don't figure this out. It's hard to say this but at least I have the boys, losing Mary was bad, but it was sudden, unexpected… this thing taking my son from me is worse, drawing it out and threatening to tear apart my home, my children. I could always run, take Dean and Sam away from here and hope for the best. But when has the best ever happened for us? I'm a walking example of Murphy's Law… I'm at the point where I'm just scared now, and I fervently hope I can save my son. I'm too late on saving myself… that ship sailed a long time ago. I've long suspected that this… crusade? Is that the right word? That it's going to be the death of me, but not for my boys. I want to see Dean take the car, join the Marines, become a fireman like he wished he would grow up to be before… before all this happened. I wish that I can see Sam go off to college and find a girl just like Mary so he can know a little of who his mother was.

I wish Dean was awake. I wish my wife was here.