Mysteries of the Past Unfolds

A Supernatural Story

Chapter Four

Author's Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. Eric Kirpke is the one that created the wonderful world of Supernatural. I do not own anything from Harry Potter. J.K. Rowling is the one that created the amazing world of Harry Potter. I do not own anything from Buffy the Vampire Slayer. Joss Whedon is the one that created the brilliant world of Buffy. The only thing I own is my imagination (You can't have it!) and how I make my ideas for this story come true. :)

Summary: This is a new version of the story! It all began with a deal and then soon ended with the death of a mother. As John Winchester tries to overcome his sorrow and pain at the death of his wife, he begins his own mission for revenge. As the oldest, Harper Winchester is forced with the weight of protecting and watching over his three younger brothers, taking care of his father when he forgets to care for himself, training to become a hunter like his father and trying to keep his siblings oblivious to the horrors that hide in the darkness of night.

As the second oldest, Dean Winchester learns just what the meaning of being "the middle child" really is. Dean soon discovers that perhaps he'd been fortunate to not be the oldest and deal with the pressure his father puts on his big brother. Though Dean still deals with the weight of watching his baby brothers Sam and Alex. While also trying to keep his brother from collapsing at the weight he's been forced to hold on his shoulders.

As the twins and youngest of the family, Sam and Alex Winchester have never truly wanted the life of traveling to different states and moving from town and cities. With living in hotels and motels, they never really made friends as they always moved before they could. At lease they were fortunate enough to have each other and their big brothers to depend on. They loved their family, but sometimes they wished for a normal life.

The Winchester siblings have long since dealt with what it really means hunting Supernatural creatures, loosing loved ones, dealing with their own personal problems and fighting between each other. With the job of a hunter, they learn that perhaps finding out the mysteries of their pasts isn't a very good thing after all.

Pairings: Dean Winchester/? , Samuel Winchester/? , Harper Winchester/? and Alexander Winchester/?

Setting(s): Season 1 and above. This story will be AU in some areas. BTVS "flashbacks/memories" and Harry Potter "flashbacks/memories"

Ratings: NC-17 or M at times

Warnings: Violence, Strong Language, Adult Situations, Graphic Sex (Maybe), Alcohol Abuse, Mention/Show of Martial Abuse, Mention/Show of Child Abuse, Drug Abuse, Mention of Drug Abuse, Murder, Suicide, Rape, Kidnapping, Nudity, Bar Fights, Fights, Mention of Religious Beliefs, Disbelief of Religions, ect.

Song: Carry On My Wayward Son by Kansas

12th February 1992

Ishpeming, Michigan

Dawn

The wind howls eerily through the city as snow spirals down from the darkened storm clouds. The thick feet of snow covered the ground for miles, leaving a blinding white, as a thick fog hovered over the grounds, leaving it difficult to see. In a small run down motel the heater was on full blast, giving the room a comfortable toasty feel to it. On of the beds nearest to the bathroom sixteen-year-old Harper Winchester lays quietly awake. He lays on the left side of the bed, nearest to the bed near the door. He blankly stares up at the cracked and dirty ceiling while he fights for sleep that has been brutally lost as his insomnia kicks in. He listens to the soft snores coming from both his father on the other bed and Dean on the pull out couch. Sam and Alex sleep cuddled up against him as the snowstorm outside continues on fiercely.

Harper's bright emerald eyes burn with tiredness while he remains lying beneath the motels bed comforters. He feels hot and sweaty as his muscles twitch while he lays in the bed, trying to get into a comfortable position. His pajamas, consisting of stripped green and black sleep pants and a black wife beater; are nearly glued to his skin as he lies between Sam and Alex. 'The twins are like mini furnaces.' He thinks to himself with a mental sigh. He's use to it though, ever since the twins were toddlers. After the fire that took their mother from them, Harper had to share a bed with Dean until the twins reached the age of five and wanted to share a bed with him. He knows by time they're pre-teens he'll have to have to talk their father into getting another motel room.

He knows if he tries to talk his father into it now it will never work. John Winchester is paranoid to near obsessiveness. He loves his sons and would do anything to protect them, Harper knows this. He knows that's one of the reasons his father hunts. Besides trying to find the thing that killed his wife and he and his brothers mother. Though Harper understands this, it doesn't stop the resentment and anger at his father sometimes. He wishes every once in a while that his father would willingly take a break from hunting. Instead of being forced to spend time with his son's, because he was injured or on the brink of exhaustion. This is one of the main reasons he had started hunting with his father. While Harper didn't have difference of opinions with his father often, if at all, he did have disagreements with him every once in awhile, but these arguments always concerned his baby brothers. The most recent altercation that had occurred was about letting Dean and the twins go to school rather then be home schooled like John wanted. The only reason he started home schooling a year before was so he could go on hunts with John and make sure his father had backup when on a hunt. It helped that with two of them working on a hunt, it often led to them finishing it quicker. This left his father having more time to spend with his younger brother's.

Harper releases a heavy sigh at his turbulent thoughts and silently slides out of the bed. On quiet feet he walks towards the small desk in the corner of the motel room. He grabs a few pencils, a cup, towel, bowl and a clip, and takes them into the bathroom with him. He set the objects gently to the floor and turns to the doorway. He quietly grabs the handle and turns it, before gently shutting it. He releases a small sigh of relief when no squeaks emit from the hinges of the door.

With the door closed his shoulders sag. He has kept this secret since he was a young boy. The only one that ever knew about him being different was his mother. His abilities had begun to make an appearance when he was four-years-old. It was thanks to his mother that he had any control over his abilities. It was becoming more difficult to continue hiding it from his father and baby brothers, considering they are always around him throughout the day. He doesn't want to imagine how his father would react, but a few times he has noticed the almost knowing look in his father's eyes when he catches his father watching him. Harper sometimes wonders if his father knows and is just waiting for him to tell him. The thought unnerves the teenager and makes his push the thought to the back of his mind to think on later.

Since his abilities had appeared years ago, he had used the suggestions and training his mother had given him the three years before her death. Harper sits on the cold floors tiles and crosses his legs in a meditative position. He slowly takes in a deep exhale in through his nose before letting it out slowly through his mouth. He can feel his muscles slowly relax as he controls his breathing and emotions. He's not sure how long it takes him to meditate but when his eyes fluttered open again he feels calmer.

With his body and mind relaxed, he reaches out to pick up the pencil from the pile of other objects beside him. He gently set the pencil in front of him and concentrates on the pencil, willing it to move, imagining it levitating into the air. A small smile begins to creep across his lips as he watches the pencil slowly hover in the air. With his right hand's pointer finger, he spins it in circles before making it float around the room with his hand. He felt proud of himself. His telekinesis has so far been one of the hardest abilities for him to control. If he ever becomes angry, just a little, he could cause a room to shake or make objects hover or fly around a room.

It's made Harper diligently practice his abilities every night when he can while still trying to kept it a secret from his father and younger brothers. He was getting proficient in controlling his abilities after years of learning how to control them. His other abilities didn't become anything offensive until he was a preteen. They were becoming more and more dangerous and even harder to learn to control. For as long as he could remember he's always been "special". He's always been able to do things no normal person should have been able to do. When Harper was a child he discovered he had claire-abilities.

For a young boy it had been rather frightening to be able to see and hear the dead and have them speak to him. He can remember asking his mother about the man that spoke to him at night when he was five-years-old. It was a couple of days later that the man he had once seen constantly never appeared again. At his age, he hadn't really questioned why the man had suddenly disappeared. It wasn't until he was older did he realize that his mother must have done something. The question he now wonders at times was how did his mother know how to make the man disappear? Was she a hunter like they are? Did she know someone, a hunter, that could have dealt with it? It was questions that he had yet to have answered.

As Harper grew more abilities appeared and became stronger over time with practice. They grew and changed over the years since he was a boy, making his life hell. He desperately wants to tell his father and brother's about his gifts. Sometimes he thinks his father knows that he's different and is only waiting for him to finally admit it to him. There are times when he caught his father watching him when he thought he wasn't looking. The look on his father's face was thoughtful. Like he was trying to figure something out. Perhaps he should tell his family.

With a small shake of his head he pushes his thoughts away and concentrates on levitating the piece of paper with his telekinesis. With a smile, he raises his right hand and watches as the paper twirls and spins in the area, flying wherever he willed it. Harper gave one last twirl of the paper before he allows it to fall to the floor. Yawning tiredly he stood up and picked up the objects he had carried in with him and makes his way back into the main room. Setting the objects down quietly he sneakily slips back into the bed he shares with Sam and Alex and falls to sleep as soon as his head hits the pillow.

Morning

"Harry! Harry!" The voice calls out through his hazy mind. Harper groans and turns away from the noise. It felt like he had only slept for a few hours, which he probably had.

"Go 'way," He hoarsely replies. Harper rolls onto his stomach and buries his head beneath his pillow while pulling the comforter up over his shoulders.

"But it's snowing!" Sam whoops excitedly. He stands at the side of the bed and stares down at his oldest brother. Harper was being unreasonably irritable this morning, the nearly nine-year-old decides with a furrow of his eyebrows and a frown on his face. Harper was never impolite or ill-tempered in the morning. He was also always up early in the morning, before everyone else. For him to be acting this way was strange. Even if Harper did hate mornings, he would always keep that fact to himself.

Harper grumbles under his breath for a moment before lifting his head up from beneath this pillow. "Jus' give me a mo'ent." He stated tiredly. His eyes were bloodshot, his face pale but flushed, and his dark hair was messy like a birds nest.

Alex walks up to Sam and looks down at Harper with a frown. "Harry, come oooon." Xander groaned in exasperation. "We don't want to wait. Dad said we can play out in the snow now, but only if you're there to watch us." Xander begs and plops down on the bed beside his brother.

"I told you Sam, that you need to gives me a minute." Harper states hoarsely, his voice was sore and scratchy, as if it was about to give out at any minute. He rubbed at his face as he tried to get the energy to stand up from his sitting position on the side of the bed. His head is throbbing, his body aches and he feels hot and nauseous, like he's about to vomit what little he had eaten the night before. He had felt fine yesterday, he even might have felt a little nauseous with a cough here and there, but that it was nothing like how he felt now. He could only assume the reason why he is feeling sick was because he hadn't worn a jacket a few days ago; as he had to let Alex use it. His younger brother had forgotten his coat at the motel when they were making their way to the laundry mat to wash their dirty clothing. Harper had only been in shorts, a short sleeve shirt and tennis shoes, as those had been his only clean clothes.

"Dad!" Sam and Xander whine in in a yell. They turn to face their father lying tiredly on the bed across from Harper.

"What?" John grunts from his position with the comforter covering him from the chilly morning air.

"Harry won't hurry up so we can go outside!" Sam and Xander chorus together in a whiny voice. Their sea green eyes look pleadingly towards their thirty-eight-year-old father. John sighs heavily and slowly lifts himself up onto his elbows. Tired, dark green eyes turn to look at his oldest. From his position, Harper looks like hell. He knows his son is not one to delay staying in bed, even if that is just sitting on it, no matter how tired he is. When the twins get up, so does he. His oldest son takes the responsibility of taking care of his younger brothers seriously. Something has to truly be wrong with Harper for him to be taking this long to get ready.

Harper tries to ignore the pounding of his head and the obnoxious voices of his twin brother's pestering their father. "You all right Harp?" John questions with a worried glint in his eyes.

"I'm fine." The reply is quiet, but is loud enough for John to hear. Slowly Harper lifts himself slowly up from the bed. He feels dizzy and lightheaded, making the teenager have to quickly sit back down before he black's out. The sixteen-year-olds features are flushed a light pink. His pupils are dilated and sweat can be seen glinting against his skin. He looks sickly and he clearly doesn't feel well. "I just need a minute," the raven-haired teenager states, "before I'll be ready to go."

"Dad–" Xander and Sam start to speak, but are quickly cut off by there father.

"Tell Dean to take you outside." John says as Dean walks into the motel room from the bathroom.

"Why isn't Harry taking them out?" Dean asks curiously. He is fully dressed in snow clothes, ready to start the morning off with fun in the snow. Sam and Xander are also similarly dressed for a day of playing in the snow.

"Your brother is sick and can't watch your brothers." John responds. "I'm giving you that responsibility today." He adds while tossing the comforter off of himself and pulls on a long sleeve shirt that matches his sweats. He slowly walks over to the other bed Harper is now laying upon. Dean frowns worriedly when he looks at Harper and then to his father.

"Is he okay?" The thirteen-year-old asks in concern. His hazel green eyes stare at his sickly big brother. He has always assumed Harper never got sick, that he was invincible, considering he has to take care of them and their father all the time.

"He'll be fine," John reassures with a smile. It doesn't reach his eyes; his smiles usually never do even when it comes to something being seriously wrong with one of his sons, especially if Harper is sick. Harper never gets sick. So it was strange for Dean to see his role model, his idol and hero, sick. A calloused hand raises and touches his sons burning forehead. He frowned heavily at just how hot he feels. He's burning up like a furnace. "Dean," He begins slowly and looks to his second oldest. Dean turns his attention to John and walks over to the bed. "Get me some cold wash cloths while I get the first aid kit." John orders before standing up from the bed.

Harper gives a harsh cough and grimaces when he can't seem to stop. His head pounds like a jackhammer and with bells that make his ears ring loudly. His chest aches with each cough he takes. It's making it harder to breathe as his shortness for breath is caused by the cough that doesn't want to stop. With a groan he collapses back onto the bed and pulls the comforter around himself. Even though he's burning hot he feels freezing and his body shows through his persistent shivers.

His father reappears into his line of sight and takes a seat on the edge of the motel bed. Pulling out a thermometer from the first aid kit, he cleans it with a wipe before sticking it beneath Harper's tongue. While they wait silently Dean hands the wet cloths to his father who places them on Harper's forehead, neck and chest to try and cool him down. It's nearly fifteen second's, but feels longer, before John pulls the thermometer out and glances down to see the temperature his oldest has; 103.4. That was bad. With a sigh of worry, he stands and walks to the bathroom and turned on the shower to warm. That was the best he could do for now until the streets start getting cleared of snow. The last thing he needed was to get into a car accident.

"Come on Harp you need to cool down," John isn't sure the whole warm water thing will work, but it's better to try than not. Harper is usually the one that cares for everyone when they're sick. His oldest son deserves to be taken care of when he's sick too. He helps the teenager sit up and winces as his son coughs. Harper's body shakes from the forceful coughs and the strain of trying to breathe but not being able to. "Go have fun Dean, I'll watch over Harper." He states reassuringly. Dark green eyes connect with hazel. The younger boy nods slowly before heading out with hyperactive nine-year-olds. God save me from death by snowballs, Dean thinks to himself as the three youngest Winchesters step out into the frigid morning air.

"I'm fine." Harper grunts out with a cough. "I need to watch Sam, Xander, and Dean." He continues with a new surge of determination. While he would like nothing more then to stay in bed, the thought of his brother's outside by themselves without him watching is a terrifying thought. The mere idea of something happening to them when he isn't there is a fear he's had since the death of his mother. The health and well-being of his younger brother's has been his responsibility since he was seven-years-old.

John frowns and shakes his head. "No. You need to get up and let me help take you to the bathroom. You need to cool off and the best thing I can do is get you in the shower before you sleep for a bit." He replies firmly. While John knows a cold shower can be dangerous to cool someone with a high fever, a warm shower should do just fine for his oldest. John's own determination shines through by his stance even if he was dressed only in pajamas.

Harper groans and allows his father to help him up. His head swims with dizziness and fatigue. He holds tightly onto his father and waits for the room to stop spinning. With slow movements he allows his father to help walk him to the shower.

It was thirty minutes later when Harper steps back out into the room, damp from the shower and with his father at his side to make sure his oldest doesn't suddenly collapse. The bed is refreshed, as John had called for new bedding while Harper was in the shower. The sixteen-year-old sways for a moment when he turns towards the bed. His arms reach out as if using the air to steady himself. He slowly breathes in and out while trying to stop his sudden rolling stomach from releasing what little he had eaten the night before. "You all right Harp?" John questions gruffly. His eyes glimmer with concern for his son and he watches his usually unflappable son become a small boy again. The same boy that just wants the comfort of his parent.

"Yeah, fine." Harper replies in a flippant tone. He brushes his wave of nausea and dizziness away and finishes his walk to the bed. He collapses upon the freshly cleaned covers with a groan of content. He still feels cold, dizzy and nauseous. All he wants was to sleep and never awaken but his burning body wouldn't allow it. "I just wanna sleep." He mutters with another groan and his eyes flutter close and his breathing evens.

The elder Winchester walks to the motel's window and slides it open, the sound of his youngest three laughing and yelling in fun brings a smile across John's lips. It gives him some reassurance to have ears on his youngest three, while tending to his oldest. John walks back over to the motel beds and takes a seat on the edge of the bed. He reaches for the alarm clock between the beds on the nightstand. His hand thumbs over the spinning dial as he changes the stations, searching for a station. Static emits from the alarm clocks speakers until falling onto a station that's able to get connection by way of the towers. The familiar tunes of Kansas reach his airs as John gives a small smile at Harper's complaints and silently grabs the wet washcloth and a bag of ice and sets it over his son's forehead and neck. "Carry on my wayward son, there will be peace when you are done, lay your weary dead to rest, don't you cry no more." John sings softly. He begins to hum underneath his breath along with the music as leans up against the headboard. He sits near the edge of the bed so he can watch over his son. "Ahhh, Once I rose above the noise and confusion. Just to get a glimpse beyond this illusion." He could still vividly recall when his eyes had been opened to the world of supernatural monsters.

John can recall the day his Mary, the love of his life, was brutally murdered. It wasn't until Missouri that he learned the truth and found out what had killed her, and from her he had met Fletcher Gable, who gave him his journal, and told him to write everything he learned down. With Fletcher's insistence, he made Harper start a journal as well. Where they put down everything they've learned together about the supernatural and their journey doing so. He knows his oldest was hiding something from him, but he was going to wait until Harper was ready to tell him. He's pushed his boy enough, he wasn't going to push him about this. Learning that a whole new world existed beneath the surface, and discovering that hunter's killed the monsters that hid in the dark, led John on a new crusade to kill every supernatural evil, until he found the thing that killed his wife and ruined their family. While he may have some regret at dragging his sons along with him, he knows this is his only way to protect them. Teaching them how to fight, shoot, and kill, is his only way to keep his sons safe. He just hopes they don't resent and hate him in the end of all this. "I was soaring ever higher, but I flew too high." John had high expectations about killing the monster that killed his wife, the mother to his boys. His pride and joys, as well as stress and migraine inducers. He would do whatever was needed if it meant getting the revenge he wanted so desperately and if it meant his son's were protected from the thing that killed his wife.

"Though my eyes could see I still was a blind man. Though my mind could think I still was a mad man." John knew he was obsessive to the point of insanity and blindness when it came to looking for the thing that killed his wife. He knew what he was doing to his sons, dragging them along with him, was wrong and cruel to ruin his boy's childhoods. It was only because of Harper that Dean had remained oblivious until he was nine. Sam and Xander were the same, they remained oblivious to this world's darkness. Harper was the only one that had truly lost his childhood in this.

John knows that he should have given the boys a steady home environment, instead of taking them with him around the country. The very thought of leaving his son's behind though killed him. He loved his children and wanted them as close by him as he could. He was doing what he could to keep them alive, and sometimes that meant training them like soldiers to survive the fight against the evil son of a bitches they hunted on a daily occurrence. The thought of losing any of his boys was enough to frighten John and give him nightmares, on top of his usual. It was why he was so harsh on Harper to protect and watch his youngest children. It's why Dean is so protective of his brother's. It's because Dean watches how Harper watches over them and if there was anything John understood, it was Dean wanting to be like his big brother.

"I hear the voices when I'm dreaming, I can hear them say, carry on my wayward son, there'll be peace when you are done. Lay your weary head to rest. Don't you cry no more." Even after all these years the nightmares of Mary's death haunts him still. He can still clearly hear her scream and see her burning on the nursery's ceiling. Over the years his nightmares have been added by the countless hunts he's taken on. His successful hunts and his failed hunts haunt him at night. They remind him why he hunts and what good comes from it. But God knows how much he must have fucked up his oldest with the nightmares of the hunts he took him on. The nightmare's he's had to deal with, that Harper's had to deal with, that the both of them have shared. The nightmares are one of the things they share. It was only Harper's agreement to go on hunts with him that made John hold off on taking Dean on any of them yet. He had agreed to wait until the boys were mature enough to start going on hunts. As long as Harper helps him with the hunts, it allows his youngest boys to have some kind of childhood. If there was one thing he could describe his oldest; it was determined and protective of his baby brother's.

"Masquerading as a man with a reason. My charade is the event of the season and if I claim to be a wise man, well, it surely means that I don't know." John knows what other people and hunters think of him. He hears the whispers. He's seen the looks when Harper is with him. Most hunters that have children wait to bring theirs in on the hunts until their children are between the ages of fifteen to seventeen. Or they don't allow them to go on hunts at all. John knows that's where Harper got the idea from. He's glad that his boy is so fiercely protective over Dean, Sam and Xander. It's because of that fact, the knowledge that he can count on Harper to watch over his brothers, that he's able to concentrate on the hunts he goes on when he's by himself.

"On a stormy sea of moving emotion. Tossed about, I'm like a ship on the ocean I set a course for winds of fortune, but I hear the voices say." His emotions have been turbulent over the years. He's not the same man he use to be before Mary's death. John knows he forces too much on his oldest children. That Harper may resent him at times, because of this fact. That Dean resents him for how he treats his older brother and puts so much pressure on the both of them. At times John feels like he's alone in a world that no one understands. Of course there's other hunters that exist, but from what he knows, the community is small. Though he assumes there's more out there that he hasn't met yet. John knows how much of a pain in the ass he can be towards others. That most get frustrated and pissed off with him because of how stubborn and hardheaded he is. He's always been a lone shark, dealing with things his way or not at all. Ever since the death of Bill Harvelle he's worked alone. He doesn't want the death of another hunter on his conscience.

"Carry on my wayward son there'll be peace when you are done. Lay your weary head to rest. Don't you cry no more no! Carry on, you will always remember. Carry on, nothing equals the splendor. Now your life is no longer empty surely heaven waits for you." At times John wonders how long it'd take for him to finally get the revenge he wants. That he'll finally be able to rest and let go of this weight that is on his shoulders. The need, the yearning for revenge is a heavy weight on his shoulders. It's all he can think about most days. To finally kill the monster that murdered his wife. John knows that Harper and Dean want the same thing. He can also see that some days Harper wants to give into that rest that he feels at times. He knows that Dean sometimes wonders what the point is, of dragging them everywhere, hunting for the thing that killed his mother. Considering they have been no closer to getting close to the monster that murdered her.

John knows that they will never be able to stop hunting, even after finally getting revenge. Hunting is in their blood now.

"Carry on my wayward son there'll be peace when you are done. Lay your weary head to rest. Don't you cry, don't you cry no more. No more!" One day he'll be able to see his wife again, but it won't be for a long time. He doesn't plan on dying anytime soon. He'll be happy to die if it meant taking the demon with him. He wonders what Mary will say when they're finally face to face. Would she hate him? Be disappointed in him for raising the boys like he did? Or would she be understanding? He's almost frightened to know. His wife has one hell of a temper. Harper and Dean are a lot like her in that aspect. While Sam and Xander are a lot like him.

Carry on My Wayward Son by Kansas has been one of his favorite songs. It was this song that John always used to sing to Harper as a child, when he was sick or couldn't sleep. It was something that he was only able to truly do for his boy. While Mary cared for him, John would sing to him softly, lulling him to sleep. John gave a small half smile as his fingers soothingly ran through Harper's thick, silky black hair. The teenager gave a soft sigh, his muscles relaxing further into sleep. As he studied his son, he can see a lot of similarities that he got for his mother and him. His green eyes came from him but the brightness, that bright emerald green came from his grandmother, Millie Winchester nee Barnes.

Tears glisten in his eyes as he thinks back to happier memories, of when Harper was still that innocent, sweet, and talkative little boy; and not this jaded, distrustful and protective young man that he had made his son become. In the silence of the motel room, with the distant sound of his youngest boys laughing carelessly and freely, John wonders not for the first or last time, how everything could have become so fucked up. 'You'd be furious with me Mary.' He thinks to himself as he continues to softly sing to Harper. He may not always show it or seem like it, but he is proud of Harper. He knew instinctively that life would certainly be different, if not harder, if he didn't have Harper to help him with Dean, Sam and Xander.

A Week Later

It had been a few days since Harper has overcome his sickness and he is relieved. He hates feeling like an invalid, being so weak. It isn't who he is. Harper sighs as his brothers continue their snow fight. Ever since it started snowing a week earlier his younger brothers have had daily snowball fights. He and his father remain sitting in front of the motel room, watching Dean, Sam and Xander play happily in the snow. Harper shivers as he shakes some of the snow out of his hair. It had been a very busy morning filled with snow fights with he and his father against Sam, Xander, and Dean. Now both of the oldest Winchesters were shivering and cold. "I'm getting to old for this shit." John sighs with a shake of his head.

Harper smirks and chuckles in amusement at his father's expense. He glances over at John with raised eyebrows and a smirk. "Sure are old man," He teases with a sparkle in his vivid green eyes. John playfully shoves Harper with a shake of his head.

"Brat," John grumbles good naturally as he looks at his oldest. "You feelin' better?" He questions his son. "Not feelin' any dizziness or sudden coughs comin' on?" Harper only shakes his head in reply and tiredly leans back against the camp chairs the two were using to sit on.

"Nope. I feel as good as new, well, almost as good as new." Harper can feel his lips quirk into a small smile at the sound of his baby brother's laughter and cheers. It was days like these that make Harper feel content with his life. It was days like these that kept him going. At only sixteen he had more responsibilities than someone his age should. The lives of his baby brother's were on him, he was to make sure nothing happened to them and keep them cared for and protected. He has had this view since he was a young boy of three-years-old. It was his father that ingrained it into him when Dean and then the twins were born. It only got worst after the death of their mother in Sam and Xander's nursery.

"Good, good," John nods slowly with a smile and watches Sam and Xander tackle Dean into the snow with a war cry. "Why don't you go play some more with them?" He questions Harper with a curious twinkle in his dark green eyes; so different from his oldest son's brilliant greens.

"It's easier to protect them by watchin' them than playin' with them," Harper replies with a slow exhale. He crosses his arms over his chest; his hands curl underneath his armpits to keep them warm. "You can go play with 'em," The raven haired teenager suggests.

John shakes his head. He has played enough today in the snow with his son's, he doesn't want to anymore. He was getting too old for that. "It's been too long since we really sat and just talked Harp. I feel like I barely know you anymore," John looks at his son with a frown.

Harper remains silent. He's unsure on how to reply to his father's seemingly random statement. It was true; the two of them didn't talk much about things they liked or did for fun; if they did have anything personally fun to talk about. The only times they ever truly had a heart to heart was when he was got over his illness and his father gave him the Impala. John had just recently bought himself a truck that he would be using for now on. That was the only gift his father had really given him that Harper appreciated more than anything. Weapons could only go so far to be treasured. "Maybe," He finally says slowly. His green eyes continue to watch his brother's. "What do you want to talk about?" He finally asks with his head tilted to the side in curiosity.

"Anything." John replies.

23rd March 1992

Milwaukee, Wisconsin

Evening

"This is a dangerous hunt, Harper," John Winchester begins as he looks across at his son. Harper was getting tall; he was already six foot and was still growing. Before he knew it, his oldest was going to be taller than he even was. "I want you watchin' Sam and Xander closely, understand?" He continues with a stern expression.

Harper nods slowly in agreement. "Yes sir." He replies with an expressionless face.

"Good. Now I don't want you leavin' this room unless absolutely necessary," John states firmly and he stares at his oldest. Harper nods in slow understanding as he stares blankly back at his father. "I'll be back in a few hours. Don't do anything stupid like leave the room." The older man warns. Harper nearly flinches at his father's last remark but holds it in. He only replies with a short, 'yes sir', as he watches his father leave. When the door locks with a click, Harper turns back to where his brothers are sitting watching the television.

"So dorks, what do you guys wanna do?" Harper questions while hopping over the back of the couch and taking a seat besides Dean.

Xander and Sam look around Dean to Harper with eyebrows furrowed as they consider his question over. "Can we go outside?" The twins chorus with begging, puppy dog eyes.

Harper shakes his head. "Nope, sorry guys. Dad told me we couldn't, so we can't." He replies with a shrug of his shoulder.

"Please Harry," Xander begs with wide eyes. The young boy stares at his oldest brother. A very amused Dean, who is sitting between Harper and Xander, watches the twin's try to plead with Harper. "Please, please, please." He continues and stares innocently at Harper with big sea green eyes.

"Yeah, please Harry. Just for a little," Sam jumps in when he sees that his twin begging is not yielding their big brother. His sea green eyes also go big as he looks at Harper.

"I said no and that's final." Harper states firmly and looks over at the twins. Though he was tempted to take the twin's to the park, as he has a hard time telling his younger brother's "no", he knows his father would be furious if he went against his orders. Especially since he specifically told him to keep Sam and Xander inside. Harper socks Dean in the shoulder for chuckling at his big brother's expense. Dean winces and rubs his sore shoulder with a sulky pout. The twin's both give a sigh and slump back into the couch. Their arms cross and they petulantly go back to watching their cartoon television show. "You guys are such beggars today." He states with a roll of his eyes and a sigh. A few minutes of silence go past before Harper speaks again. "Are you guys hungry?" He questions.

"Yeah, can we have Gushers?" Xander questions eagerly as he looks up at Harper. Everyone groans and shakes their heads at the eight-year-old, nearly nine-year-old's, question. "What?" The boy looks confused at the amused and exasperated expressions on his brother's faces.

"I don't know what it is with you and Gushers dude," Dean states with a shake of his head, "But you have some serious obsessions with them." He finishes with an amused expression. "Sometimes I wonder if you wanna marry 'em or somethin'." He continues teasing with a smirk. As the second oldest and closet to Harper's age, Dean has followed after his brother in interests. He likes the same music as his father and brother listen to. He enjoys fixing up cars with his older brother and dressing like his older brother. It had been great amusement for their father to see Dean trying to be like his role model and idol. While Dean wasn't interested in school, he was smart. He had never liked school much but had promised Harper that he would graduate high school and then leave schooling behind so he could hunt full time.

"They're good!" Xander defends his addiction with a pout and sullen glare at Dean. Sam looks to his twin with a fond smile and shake of his head. As the older of the twins, Xander was a bit of a comedian among the brothers. Whenever the room got tense he always had a joke to crack or an amusing remark to make. He absolutely hated whenever any of them fought. He especially hated when any of his brother's fought with eacher. The older twin has always been a bit more emotional then Sam was when it came to that sort of thing. Xander has always wanted to help anything he can. He tended to bring wounded animals to Harper, or if his father was there, to get his brother or John to help care for it. He had a deep interest in anatomy and other sciences.

"It's an obsession Xan." Sam replies. He's the only one to ever be allowed to call Xander, Xan. Everyone else just calls him Xander now. As the younger of the twins, Sam was the more studious and serious of the twins. He tended to be the more quiet and reserved. That didn't mean he didn't have a witty or sarcastic remark ready for any idiot trying to start a fight. The twins were very protective of each other, but they did still tend to argue quiet a bit since they were so different while still having some similarities between them. Sam had a deep interest in laws, he seemed to take a keen interest in legislation's and maps. He had recently taken to being the navigator for their family when they had to move again. As long as it kept Sam happy, Harper and John were more than willing to let the young boy lead them to where they needed to go.

"It is not. It's like you and your fruit." Xander snaps back. Harper sighs with annoyance as yet another argument between the twins begins.

"It is not!" Sam retorts and shoves his brother making Xander nearly fall off the couch.

"Is too!" Xander states as he shoves his twin back. Dean stands up quickly from the couch; least the arguing twins hit him in the face.

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

Harper runs a hand through his hair with a frustrated sigh. This is his punishment for having younger brothers. He looks up at the ceiling, as if asking for strength and patience. The twins argue constantly (even if it is just to annoy Harper and Dean sometimes) about everything, even if they agree at first. Then there's Dean, who usually enjoys edging the twins on. He contemplates hog tying the twins and leaving them in the bathroom until their father comes back, before quickly tossing that thought to the side. God knows his father wouldn't find it as funny as he and Dean might.

"Alright, that's enough!" He yells out over the loud voices of Sam and Xander arguing and Dean's laughter at the twins. Everyone goes silent and his younger brother's turn to look at him with wide eyes. "Xander, you're not getting gushers for dinner." He states firmly. He hated Gushers after dealing with Xander's obsession with them. Not only that but it always felt like there was something wrong with them. Fruit snacks weren't supposed to have liquid inside them. Sam looks smug while Harper is talking to his twin. "Sam you do have a weird liking for fruit dude," Sam's smug expression disappears and Xander now looks smug.

"We all have our weird addiction to foods. Dean loves his pie and peanut M&M's," Dean doesn't try to deny it, only smiles and shrugs. "Now what do you guys want to eat for dinner?" He questions, feeling relief he had finally shut up the rather ridiculous argument between the twin's. Then again, Sam and Xander wouldn't be who they are if they didn't argue nearly everyday about something as ridiculous as obsessions.

"Pizza?" All three question at the same time.

Harper looks at the ceiling again with a sigh.

Pizza it was then.

Night

Dean has always wondered how Harper can handle such responsibilities without a complaint to their father. He wasn't sure if he would ever be able to handle the responsibility of being the oldest. When he was younger he never fully understood what happened to their mother. All he knew was that one moment he had her, playing with him and telling him how much she loves him, and then the next she was gone. It had been strange, those first couple days after his mother had gone away.

Harper, his once happy, talkative and sweet big brother had become sullen, silent and depressed. His daddy had been much the same but he seemed more tired, frustrated and defeated. It wasn't until three months later that Dean had finally questioned Harper what had happened to their mother. It was the first, and last time, Dean had ever seen his big brother cry. He could vividly recall how his big brother had sat him down on the bed and knelt in front of him before slowly and painfully explaining to him that mommy had gone to heaven and that she was at peace and watching over them.

It was then that Dean truly began to realize what his big brother was telling him. That their mommy wouldn't be coming to kiss him good night anymore. That she would no longer be there to play and sing to him and kiss his boo boos and make them all better. That she wouldn't be there anymore for them. He could remember asking Harper why. Why was mommy gone? Why wasn't she coming back? Why didn't she love him anymore? Later, when Dean was older, he would realize just how overwhelming and painful it must have been for Harper to hear Dean ask all these questions and not have the answers to explain to him in a way that a four-year-old would understand.

It was always Harper who has taken care of him and their younger brothers after the death of their mother. It was Harper who he began to go to when he needed help with something. Or if he wanted someone to hold him and tell him everything was going to be okay. It was Harper who practically raised Sam and Xander all on his own, while continuing to try and raise Dean to be the best that he could be. It was Harper who Dean saw as his idol, someone that could do no wrong and would always be there for him and the twins. No longer did he go to his father, who was too immersed in the life of hunting to completely worry about raising his children. He had his oldest son to take care of his youngest boys.

It had always been Harper that helped him adjust to living on the road and in motels. He made it easy for Dean to make new friends, while Harper himself barely tried. He had Sam and Xander to raise and watch over while also trying to do school work and help their father with whatever he had him doing. Dean didn't think he would have been able to handle the sudden change of living in a home to suddenly living in a motel and the Impala, without Harper's help in getting him use to it. Without his siblings, Dean was sure he wouldn't be like he was now. He was sure that he would have turned out much different. More than likely he'd be like his big brother.

It wasn't until he was nine-years-old that Dean discovered what it was that his father and Harper did late at night while he and the twins were asleep. It was then that Dean truly realized that his father and Harper were heroes. That Harper was someone that he could look up to. It was around that time when Dean realized just how hard Harper had tried to protect him, to keep him oblivious to what really went on in the dark. He couldn't help but thank his big brother for that. He had at least had a chance to have a childhood, even if it wasn't exactly normal.

It had given him a chance to be normal, before being thrust into the strangeness that was Supernatural Hunting. It was then that Dean realized that Harper was doing the same thing to Sam and Xander. It wasn't until a few months later that Harper finally mentioned to their father that he should start training Dean in the ways of hunting. It started with them, mostly Harper, teaching him how to speak and read Latin, followed by learning the weaknesses of the creatures they hunted so they could kill them.

It had been hard for Dean in the beginning to learn how to hunt. He was very thankful that he had two of the best hunters around teaching him. When he really started training with weapons he had some of his father's associates helping. As Dean began to grow older, he began to notice just how under appreciated his father appeared to act towards Harper. How much he seemed to take Harper for granted at times. How John rarely said how proud, pleased or glad he was to have an amazing son like Harper. And that's how Dean saw his brother, he saw Harper as an amazing person that handles what life throws at him with finesse and grace. He also respected and appreciated everything his older brother has done for him and their baby brothers.

Dean sighs as he breaks himself from his thoughts of the past years of his life. He and his family have had a rough life after the death of their mother. But it was to be expected. There was a part of their father that seemed to have died that night, along with their mother. John Winchester is no longer what his sons remember him to be, especially Harper. Shaking his thoughts away the thirteen-year-old stands and looks towards one the motel bedrooms where Sam and Xander slept fitfully.

Harper had left nearly fifteen minutes ago to replenish the first aid boxes, along with their bag filled with food. Their bag of food was used when they were on the road or living in the motels like they were now. Dean knew their father would probably be pissed if he found out Harper had left. But they did need their supplies and Dean was there, he'd watch his baby brother's like Harper told him to.

With a sigh, Dean walks to the couch and plops down, his head leans back as his eyes stare blankly up at the ceiling. As much as Dean hates being on guard watch over his baby brother's, he doesn't want to disappoint Harper. He always strives to show his big brother that he's someone he can depend on. Dean's noticed over the last few years that Harper always keeps everything on his shoulders and never lets anyone take some of that weight off. Dean wants to help him let some of that weight go, Harper deserves that much.

Without realizing it Dean nods off to sleep. His head tilts to the side as his eyes flutter shut and he falls into a fitful slumber.

Twenty Minutes Later

Harper slowly and silently slips into the motel room and shuts the door behind him with a soft click. He set the bags of supplies onto the table and stiffens as an uneasy feeling of something being wrong settles over him. With smooth and quick movements he grabs the sawed off shotgun beside the door and lifts it. With a cock of the gun Harper walks behind the motel's couch with quiet booted steps. Bright green eyes flicker over to where Dean sleeps peacefully. With a steady hand he gently squeezes Dean's shoulder.

Dean startles awake and opens his mouth to speak, but stops himself at his brother silent look, warning him to remain quiet. He watches as Harper turns and walks over to the doorway that led into the larger bedroom. Dean stands from the couch and walks silently up behind his brother. His eyes widen with shock at the figure that stands over Sam and Xander. Hazel green eyes watch as Harper pulls the trigger. The shot rings out in the room along with the screech of pain coming from the cloaked figure.

John Winchester makes his way down the hallway towards the motel room and quickly moves into a jog down the hallway at the sound of a gunshot echoing in the night air. The door slams against the wall as John bursts into the room. He nearly pauses at the sight of Harper standing in the doorway of the bedroom, shooting at whatever was inside with Dean standing behind him.

Harper cocks the shotgun again and pulls the trigger again.

The creatures shrieks and stumbles away from the twin's bed.

John walks swiftly across the room and over to Harper and Dean, his one shotgun out. For the last time, both John and Harper cock their shotguns and pull the trigger. With an angry shrieking cry, the Shtriga flies out of the bedroom window, making a loud crashing sound as the window is shattered. Without a word John hands his gun over to Dean and quickly walks over to were Sam and Xander are awakening. Their confusion is easy to see as John looks the twin's over, his heart thundering painfully in his chest at the thought of nearly losing his youngest boys.

Harper sighs tiredly as he lets his gun fall at his side. "They all right dad?" He questions as he looks to his father.

"Yeah Harp, they're fine." John sighs out with relief. "Just tired and confused." He finishes with a soft smile as he looks at his oldest. "I'm proud of you Harper. You protected your brother's like I know you always will."

John doesn't notice the pained look in the brilliant green eyes at his word's, but Dean does.

With a frown Dean follows his big brother over to the table sitting before the window. "You all right Harry?" He questions his big brother. Dean never likes seeing his brother upset or angry, as his brother is always calm and level-headed in even the worst situations. He allows hates seeing any one of his brothers hurt. If he had the chance, he'd protect them from anything.

Harper smiles at Dean's worried expression and takes a seat on the chair by the kitchen area. Dean sits across from him and begins to help his brother pack the medical and food supplies into their correct bags. "Yeah, I'm fine Dee." He states with a soft, warm smile at his baby brother. "Just accepting that my life is always going to evolve around you three, four if you count dad." He adds.

Dean's eyebrows furrow at his brother's statement. "Isn't that a good thing?" The thirteen-year-old asks. He doesn't realize that his big brother will never really have a life. Not with the expectations from their father to always put his baby brother's before himself and always consider himself last. That's if the time ever came to it, Harper would die for his brother's and risk his own soul for them, if it ever came down to that.

"The best thing Dee." Harper replies with a twinkle in his green eyes. "I'd do anything for you, Dad, Sammy and Xander." He says with a chuckle. "I pretty much do already." He continues with a smirk. "I mean, I've taught you how to fight and flirt, but dad doesn't know half the things we've caused when we start our prank wars and shit."

"Dad doesn't know what?" John inquires as he steps into the room. An eyebrow is raised and a warm expression graces his face.

"Nothin' dad." Dean and Harper chorus with innocent expressions.

"You both are anythin' but innocent." He chuckles with a shake of his head. "That look doesn't work much on me anymore. Though as a kid, Harp could get away with murder with that expression." John and Dean chuckle at his statement. Harper shakes his head with fondness as he rolls his eyes at his father and Dean. "Then again, I remember how Harp use to get you into all sorts of trouble when you were younger," John continues with a reminiscent look in his dark green eyes.

Dean and Harper snort in laughter at their father's remark.

"Ah yeah. I remember." Harper snickers as he leans lazily against the chair. "Course mom never fell for my "innocent look". " He states.

Dean looks to his brother with a tilt of his head. "What do you mean?" He questions with confusion.

Harper and John share an amused glance with each other before turning to look at Dean. "When you were 'bout two almost three I use to get into a lot of trouble. Use to try and blame it on you. Never worked though. Only exasperated mom, especially 'cause I actually talked you into always telling mom you did every prank I made." Tears of happiness and sadness glimmered in Harper's eyes as he thinks back to his beautiful and caring mother.

"Use to drive Mary nuts." John remarks as he chuckles with a small sad smile. "Though it did make her laugh at times. She found it adorable how you followed Harp around like he was God himself." He says with a shake of his head in amusement.

"Really?" Dean questions with wide eyes.

"Yep." Harper and John chorus with nods.

"What else don't I remember about those years?" Dean inquires with furrowed eyebrows. He remembers a few things during those years, but not as much as he wishes at times. It was actually nice to hear his older brother and father talk about his mother and not be so closed off about her. Harper and John consider the teen's question with thoughtful expressions.

"Mary wasn't the greatest in the kitchen." John states with a laugh.

Harper nearly chokes in his laughter as he nods. "Oh yeah. Mom's cookin' with legendary in the neighborhood. I can't remember how many times she nearly burnt the kitchen down. She got a bit better when you were about two-years-old though." He remarks with a smirk. "But in the first few years, mom couldn't cook at all. She nearly burnt the house down a few times, from what I can remember."

Dean smiles as his father and Harper continue to mention small things about his mother. It was nice to hear about her sometimes. The three never noticed Sam and Xander hiding behind the wall in the bedroom, listening to Harper and their father talk about their mother, a woman they didn't know much of anything about. It was rare for their father or oldest brother to talk about her. Harper had saved enough pictures of their mother that they knew what she looked like, but they knew nothing about her.

It was nice to finally learn something.

With a shared look, Sam and Xander decided that they would find out more about their mother from Harper or their father sometime soon.

24th December 1992

Evening

Union, Connecticut

Sam and Xander Winchester shouldn't have been truly surprised by what they found in their father's journal, or in Harper's for that matter. They have always, in the back of their minds, wondered if what Harper and Dean said their father did, was truly the truth. After all, they could have still lived in a home and remained in the same school while their father traveled, right? Harper has always taken care of them after all, wouldn't it have been easier for him to do it in a familiar setting, instead of a new place every few weeks?

Sam wasn't sure if he actually believed that. It was hard to take in what was read in the journals of his father and brother. He was considering forgetting he ever read it in the first place, but he wouldn't. If what was said in the journals, then creatures that he once thought as fairy tales actually existed and were hurting innocents. Sam looked to his twin to see the eagerness and thrill at the prospect of the things made of nightmares existed and that their father and older brother's hunted them.

"This is pretty wicked." Xander stated, as looked into identical sea green eyes. "Wicked, and terrifying, but wicked all the same." He stated. The discovery of the supernatural was pretty cool, but it did terrify Xander at the same time. The knowledge that the scary myths and legends were real and very dangerous, and that his older brothers and father hunted them? It scared him, the thought that they could get hurt, or worse.

"You think so?" Sam replied with hesitance. It certainly sounded fascinating, but at the same time Sam wasn't sure if he wanted to know about this supernatural business. Sure, he was pretty upset and angry that their father and older brothers kept this from him and Xander, but perhaps it was for the better. He wasn't completely sure yet.

"Yes! This is a goodish bad thing." Xander stated eagerly with a nod of his head. "I just wanna know why dad, Harry and Dean kept this from us." He continued with a frown. Why would their older brothers and father keep this from the two of them? They certainly didn't have to hide it from them. Unless, there was another reason not to?

The sound of the motel opening brought the twins attention to Dean, as he walked into the room. Harper and their father have been gone for the last couple of days, off to hunt a supernatural creature, the children assumed. If their father and oldest brother's journal had any truth to it, then there was a whole other world that they never knew about.

It had opened a door for the twins, thrusting them into a world that Harper had tried so hard to keep them hidden away from. It was a door that the twins would soon regret opening, as they realized what sort of things hid in the dark. It wouldn't be until years later that they'd be shown just how horrible the things that hid in the darkness and shadows are.

I wanted to do a little more for Sam and Xander's part, but this has been sitting on my computer collecting dust long enough. So, I figured I'd post it.

Next chapter will hopefully come sometime soon.

Reviews are always welcomed!

Thanks for reading,

TheWeepingRaven