A/N: Hey, so, its been a while since I've uploaded, well, anything. :P (Sorry). And some things have happened recently that's really made me think about the importance of family and stuff so this is just a oneshot to hopefully get me in the writing mode again so that, if I'm lucky, I'll be able to actually finish the next update of 'The Night Howler.' Plus, I strongly believe that John did not become a crazy, revenge-seeking maniac immediately after the fire, I think he too needed time to come to terms with what happened before doing anything

This is dedicated to some people who are very prominent in my prayers at the moment who have been having a hard time recently but who inspire me with their strength in each other, even in the face of tragedy.

Disclaimer: Not mine at all! If they were do you really think I'd be writing this?

Summary: What was going through John's head as he sat at the foot of Dean's bed in 'In my time of dying' way back in season 2. Contains a Wee!chester flashback and fatherly John. I hope you guys enjoy :D

Stop at Nothing

"I'm a father. Screwing up is a part of the job – you just have to hope that you haven't screwed your children up too much. For an even more important part of the job, is being there for them when they most need you – and still hope, but hope instead that these moments are what they will remember you by."

- Author Unknown

- November 6th 1983 -

John sat in front of the dying flames in the fireplace, his eyes glazed over as he moved deeper and deeper into thought. It had only been four days since the fire that had ended everything - their home, their happiness and her life. John and his two young sons were staying at an old family friend's house. He was in a daze. Still struggling to believe that he would never see Mary again, never hold her close, never hear her gentle laughter or see her beautiful smile or look into her bright blue eyes as he played with her hair. She was the love of his life and now that she was gone, John had no idea what to do.

He had put Dean and Sammy to bed about 2hrs ago and so he sat drinking. Determined to drown his sorrows in a fith of whiskey. His world was crumbling around him and he knew there was nothing he could do to stop it. Dean hadn't said a word since that night and Sammy would never remember how wonderful his Mom was. John felt several more tears slide slowly down his face as this realisation hit him.

"Daddy?" John froze as he heard Dean's small voice breaking the silence in the cosy sitting room.

"Dean? What is it?" John asked, surprised but pleased that his son had begun to realise the usefulness of having a voice. Drying his eyes and face with his hand, he twisted in his seat to face the doorway from where he had heard Dean's voice come from. When he saw him, he fully realised how small Dean looked. He was pale with small red circles around his eyes, a definite sign that he must have been crying. "Did you have a nightmare?" He questioned.

Dean shook his head and just looked at the ground.

"Hey, kiddo," John began, using his nickname for Dean in order to try and comfort him, "C'mere." Dean looked shyly up at John and began to timidly walk over to him. Once he was close enough, John scooped Dean up in his arms and placed him on his knee. "You wanna tell Daddy what's eating at you?"

Dean looked around with big eyes before hesitantly answering his father. "Is it my fault Mommy doesn't want to come home?"

John's heart crumbled the moment Dean's fearful, quiet voice spoke the question. He couldn't believe Dean actually thought it was his fault his Mom would never come back. "No, of course not! Dean, why would you think something like that?"

Dean's eyes began to water a little and his lip began to tremble, "Cos... Cos the last time Mommy made me and Sammy breakfast I-I-I spilt t-the milk everywhere a-and she was cross."

John looked down at Dean, listening in silence as Dean continued, he knew that this was making Dean upset and in order for him to feel better, he needed to get it all of his chest.

"I-I'm s-s-sorry Da-Daddy," Dean cried, "I never w-wanted t-to make Mommy g-go a-way."

John thought for a minute before speaking - he was trying to decide the best way of dealing with Dean's emotions, for though the fire had destroyed most aspects of their lives, John still had two children and he'd be damned if he didn't try his best for them. Taking a deep breath, he began, "Dean, when you spilt the milk and Mommy got cross, did you say sorry?"

Dean nodded timidly, which made a small smile flash across John's face. "And what did Mommy say then?"

"She s-said that it was ok, and then she gave me a hug and said s-sorry for b-being angry." Dean sniffled, his tears gone but his voice still a little shaky from the emotions surging throughout his body.

John smiled again, that was just like something Mary would do. "You see Dean? It's not your fault. Mommy wasn't angry with you at all kiddo!" John said in a comforting, reassuring tone.

"S-so does that mean she's gonna come back?" Dean questioned, moving his head to lock eyes with his father's.

John looked sadly down at Dean, wondering how he could explain their current situation truthfully, but not too harshly. He thought for a few minutes before beginning to speak, carefully thinking out what he was to say and yet still having no idea how to say it.

"Dean, Mommy can't come back." John said, as soothingly as he could, knowing for sure that Dean was most likely going to be greatly upset come the end of the conversation, regardless of what way he approached the topic.

"But you said- "

"Dean, I know what I said." John interrupted his son. Holding him closer he continued, "Dean." He began slowly, thinking of Mary and silently asking for her guidance in how to explain this to their son, "Do you remember what your Mother used to say to you and little Sammy every night before going to bed?"

Dean timidly nodded his head, eyes focused completely on his father as he studied every word John said.

"And what was it?" John probed, attempting to keep Dean as calmly involved in the conversation as possible.

"She told us that angels were watching over us." Dean replied in his little voice.

John nodded his head as tears welled in his eyes at the loving statement Mary had told their sons each and every night. It was not true. There were no angels watching over them the night Mary died. But Dean did not need to hear this. "Well Dean, Mommy had to go be an angel so that she'd be able to watch over us better."

Dean's forehead scrunched up in confusion, his eyes narrowing slightly as his young mind tried to process the explanation 'Mommy's an angel.' "But why does that mean she can't be here too?" He questioned.

John's eyebrows raised slightly, the question catching him slightly off-guard, "Erm, well Dean, being an angel is a big responsibility. Mommy has a lot of things she needs to be doing now which means she can't be with us and be an angel at the same time."John's eyes scrutinized his son's expression closely, trying desperately to understand what was going inside his head. "But Dean. Just because we can't see her all the time, does not mean that she is not always with us. She loves you and Sammy so much!"

Dean looked down at his feet as he sat for a few more moments processing this before once again looking up but this time, with a smile on his face for his father. "Ok Daddy," he said simply, giving John a final hug goodnight before turning and walking back to his room.

After he left John sat back in his chair, drained by the conversation with Dean and vowing to never let anything bad happen to Dean and Sam, the only two things in the world that he had to remember his wife as everything else had been destroyed in the fire, and also being filled with a powerful lust for revenge on the thing that had caused Mary's death.

He vowed that he would stop at nothing.

He would never let anything like this hurt his sons again.

-Present Day-

Beep.

Beep.

Beep.

Dean's heart monitor filled the room with it's consistent, steady rhythm indicating that Dean's heart, at least, had not yet given up on him. The ventilator that was breathing for him, relieving his weakened lungs of the strain of breathing, accompanied the sounds of the monitor creating a reassuring harmony for John Winchester, who was currently sat at the end of his dying son's bed. Over the past couple of hours, John had had a lot of time to think. Too much time in fact. It was hard for him to be so still, he usually avoided it at all costs for fear of being left alone with only his thoughts and memories to keep him company.

But, since being promptly told by hospital staff that he 'wasn't going anywhere,' there was nothing left to do but to think.

So, John thought. He thought about past times with Dean, all those moments which he should have handled differently but didn't, because he wanted to raise a soldier, not a son.

He thought about the times he should have cherished – times that would never happen again: when Sam took his first steps, spoke his first word, learned to ride a bike, their first days of school. The moments that had Mary still been with them, would have been fussed over, with pictures and rewards and joy.

He had thought long and hard about a way to save his eldest, who would soon be dead if he did not get a move on. Who would soon be another family member lost at the hands of yellow-eyes, for though the car crash had injured them all, it was the initial injuries Dean had sustained at the hands of his possessed father that had resulted in his condition being so severe and life-threatening.

John knew what he was going to do. He had already sent Sam out to Bobby to get what was needed after being refused permission to leave himself by hospital staff. He was determined to make Dean better, no matter the cost. His sons were more important than anything.

The Colt. Revenge. His life.

None of it mattered, for during his thinking he remembered promising himself to protect his children from ever being harmed by anything supernatural again. And though he had failed at this many, many times over the years, the fact still remained that he, John Winchester, would stop at nothing to save his sons.

And this time, he was determined to keep that promise.

A/N: Soooooo? Thoughts? Please review! :D And thank you very much for dropping by and giving this a read! :D