I don't own anything from Supernatural, including Sam, Dean, John, Mary, Bobby, or any of the other Supernatural characters, no matter how much I wish I did…
Prologue
Lawrence, Kansas
22 years ago…
Cricket chirps filled the nighttime November air as they did every other night in Lawrence, Kansas. An owl's hoot from a large leafless tree that stood outside one of several identical suburban homes signaled its waking. Nothing about the oh-so-normal nighttime activities of the wildlife could've suggested the turn of events that would take place in that house with the dead tree standing tall over its yellowing lawn.
Inside that particularly unremarkable home, a pretty, wavy blonde-haired woman in her late-twenties, wearing a white nightgown, Mary Winchester, carried her small four-year-old son, Dean, into his baby brother's nursery.
"Come on, let's say goodnight to your brother," Mary said softly to Dean, before turning on the lights to reveal her son, Sam, who was lying in his crib eyeing her curiously with his big brown eyes.
Mary smiled warmly at the infant and set Dean down in front of the crib.
The four-year-old leaned over the side of his brother's crib and kissed Sam softly on the forehead. "Night, Sam," he said.
Mary smiled fondly at the scene, and followed her son's example. "Goodnight, love," she said in a warm, motherly tone, brushing the infant's hair back and kissing him on the forehead.
"Hey, Dean," a man called. The man, John Winchester, was dressed in a USMC T-shirt and black pajama pants.
Dean wheeled around at the sound of his father's voice. "Daddy!" he exclaimed happily, rushing into the man's strong arms.
"Hey, buddy," John replied, scooping up the excited boy. "So, what do you think? You think Sammy's ready to toss around a football yet,"
Dean shook his head. "No, Daddy," he said, laughing.
"John chucked at his son."No," he agreed.
"You got him?" Mary asked John as she passed him on the way out of the crowded nursery.
"I got him," John replied, hugging Dean closer to him. "Sweet dreams, Sam," he said, before leaving the nursery and turning off the light on his way out.
Sam, gurgling, lifted his legs and extended his chubby arms up in a ninety degree angle in an attempt to reach his toes. Then, suddenly, strange things began to happen around the room. As Sam watched in fascination, the baseball-themed mobile above his crib began to spin on its own. That wasn't all though; the transportation-themed clock hanging on the wall stopped ticking and the moon-shaped nightlight in the corner of the room flickered.
In the master-bedroom of the Winchester house, the lights flickered on a baby monitor, sitting on Mary's nightstand, next to a photo of her and John from a few years before, and strange sounds came through the monitor. The strange sounds woke Mary, who then turned on the lamp sitting on her nightstand.
"John?" she asked sleepily, but no one was there.
Realizing she was alone, Mary got up and walked out of the bedroom to go check on Sam. In the hall, Mary stopped outside the nursery, upon seeing John's dark silhouette standing over Sam's crib.
"John? Is he hungry?" Mary asked quietly.
The silhouette turned its head slowly, bringing his index finger up to his lips. "Shhh,"
"Alright," Mary said, satisfied that the dark silhouette of her husband had things under control.
Groggily, she turned away from the nursery, and began to head back to bed, until she saw the light fixture by the stairs flicker rapidly.
Mary frowned, walked over to the light fixture and tapped it until the flickering light steadied. "Hmm," she said curiously, before noticing a ghostly blue light coming from downstairs. Cautiously, she made her way down the stairs to investigate the odd blue light.
At the bottom of the steps, in the living room, Mary noticed an old war movie playing on the TV. Her eyes found their way to a man sleeping in a recliner, remote hanging in the loose grip of his hand which was draped over the arm of the chair. It was John, which meant the person upstairs in Sammy's nursery was…
Mary wheeled around and bounded up the stairs. "Sammy! Sammy!" she called out frantically, running down the upstairs hall. She stopped suddenly upon entering the nursery, fear etched into her features.
Downstairs, John was awoken by the sound of Mary's piercing scream. "Mary?" he called out worriedly, scrambling out of his chair when he received no response. "Mary?" he called out again, sprinting up the stairs, taking them two at a time.
John burst frantically through the closed door of the nursery. "Mary," he called out.
Receiving no answer, the worried man glanced around the quiet room. With the exception of his infant son, the room appeared to be empty. Breathing a sigh of relief, John pushed down the side of Sam's crib.
"Hey, Sammy. You okay?" he asked, examining the boy for any wounds. He found none, but before he could breathe another sigh of relief, he noticed something dark drip next to Sam. John wiped the droplet with his finger and studied it. It was scarlet color. Two more drops landed on the back of John's hand. To John, the scarlet liquid looked almost like… like blood! Slowly, John looked up, and what he saw made his blood run cold. Mary was sprawled across the ceiling, the stomach of her nightgown red with blood. She was staring down at John, her eyes wide with fear, struggling to breathe and unable to say a word.
In shock, John collapsed onto the floor, staring, dumbstruck, at his dying wife. "No! Mary!" he exclaimed, grief drenching his words.
Out of nowhere, Mary burst into flames. Fire spread rapidly over the ceiling, burning her alive! John stared up at her, frozen, unable to move an inch and probably would've remained there until the flames overtook him if Sam hadn't started wailing loud. The baby's cries reminding him that he had his infant son to take care of, John got up, scooped Sam out of his crib and rushed into the hallway.
In the hallway John nearly ran into Dean who had been awoken by the noise and had come to investigate. "Daddy!" Dean cried, looking confused.
Almost instinctively, John shoved Sam at Dean and said in a commanding voice, "Take your brother outside as fast as you can and don't look back! Now, Dean, go!"
Understanding the severity of the situation, Dean turned from his father and ran down the stairs. John, knowing his sons were safe, rusted back into the nursery.
"Mary!" he cried, but it was no use. The entire room was in flames, in fact, Mary's burning corpse, itself, could barely be seen at all. "No!"
Meanwhile, Dean ran outside, holding Sam tightly. "It's okay, Sammy," he said comfortingly, before turning to look up at his brother's nursery window, which was lit with golden flames. In the nick of time, John ran out the front door, scooped up Dean and Sam, and carried them away. "I gotcha," he said, before flames exploded out of the nursery windows.
Later that night, the firefighters were working frantically to put out the fire, spraying water from a rapidly spewing fire hose, straight into the nursery window. There was a crowd of curious, obnoxious neighbors being waved back by a police officer. "Stay back. You have to stay back," the police-officer ordered.
Across the street from the house, John and Dean were sitting on the hood of John's '67 Chevy Impala. John was holding Sam, looking up mournfully at the remnants of his former home, his life changed forever…
This is my first fanfic, please review...