Fire & Ice

(HELLO: I decided to take down this fanfic in 2010 due to many issues that I won't go into detail about at the present, but yeaahh I went over the chapters with a mature mind and writing skill and did the best I could to modify this fic to the best that I could :D Hope you don't hate me too much ! )

This chapter happens way before season 1, back when Sam is 6 and Dean is 10, and will probably span through to season 3 =)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything supernatural it all belongs to Eric Kripke and the CW

Chapter 1 – Blind faith and a smile

Silence.

Beautiful, untainted, unbelievable silence.

No bickering, no questions that had already been answered five hundred times - nothing. Not a peep.

John smiled to himself softly, glancing back briefly at the two boys fast asleep on the back seat of his beloved Impala – their home. Sam's mop of fluffy blonde hair lay across his brothers lap as he wrapped his arms tight around his knees, and Dean's face seemed so peaceful, so unrecognisable... so different from the hardened expression he usually wore. 'Yes sir, no sir, I'll take care of Sammy sir'... John's knuckles whitened as he gripped the wheel 'til there seemed no feeling left - his sons were his world, his everything, yet there was a distance that stretched beneath them without end, a distance that Dean would always try and fail to cross.

And yet…

And yet his heart couldn't bear the weight of his own broken grief, let alone carry the burden of two smaller ones. He loved them – with all his heart and body and soul – but distance was what allowed John his sanity, and all he could do for now was fight – to fight and protect his boys, because if he ever lost them...

He stared straight ahead, a frown creasing his brow, the weight of time upon his shoulders. He whispered - as if verbally disagreeing with himself would strengthen the argument. "I do this for them; everything I do is for Dean and Sam. They need training and protection; they need me to do this…Mary?" His last statement was more of a question, a soft whimper for the woman he had witnessed drowning in an ocean of flame…

"Enough."

He spoke quietly, eyes glaring through the windshield out into the darkness ahead. Enough misery and grief - he had his life and the life of his sons, he had his trunk full of weapons ready to strike down any evil bastard that tried him on, and he had an empty highway ahead of him that promised hope in exchange for blind faith and a smile.

"Bring it!"

John's foot floored the gas pedal and he grinned at the purr of the engine. Peace settled softly upon him as he glanced once more upon his sleeping children. He turned around and -

"SHIT!"

The wheel beneath his hands swung wildly out of control; the radio flared into life as the car swung around and around, as if spinning on black ice. The windscreen wipers swept away imaginary droplets of rain, and with a sickening crunch the glass from every window shattered and flew outwards, leaving the wipers to sway frantically against the blowing wind.

The engine shuddered to a stop; the radio sputtered and fell silent.

John's head spun and his breathing was ragged. He burst from the Impala in a glimmering shower of glass, collapsing on the floor with a heavy grunt. "Dad!" A groggy, yet shaken cry from the backseat forced him to lift himself up and take action.

"Get down Dean, look after Sammy!"

He limped quickly to the boot and propped it up as fast as he could, he grabbed the first gun he laid his hands on and whipped around, ready for the worst.

He didn't know what he had expected; his mind had been running on auto-pilot and basic instinct, and a cascade of adrenalin coursed through his veins. He had expected a spirit maybe, or a demon - what he had not expected was to be confronted with the love of his life. The dead love of his life. He faltered, his legs shaking dangerously.

"Mary?"

The name barely escaped from his quivering lips. His wife, still dressed in the nightgown she had died in, smiled at him sadly, her eyes glistening just like they always did when she didn't know whether to laugh or cry. A voice inside his head was screaming at him to shoot, that it couldn't be Her - that it wasn't Her - it was just some bitch dressed in her meat suit.

He snuffed that voice out pretty quick; his gun clattered to the floor and lay forgotten.

"Mary…" His voice cracked as he stumbled forward.

She laughed brightly as tears ran down her face, and his arms swooped her off the ground into the tightest embrace.

"Put me down John!"

Her voice stroked the cords of his heart, and despite her words, her arms clung even tighter around his neck.

"I'll never let you go!"

He set her down and cupped her face in his hands, his voice nothing but a hoarse whisper. She ran her hands through his hair, her eyes glistening.

"Listen to me John – "

"- I've missed you so much, I… I can't let you go again I just, I …" His heart pounded in his chest, desperate and poisoned with hope.

"John…"

Her voice was clear and as soft as it had been when she had lived and breathed, but it held raw urgency, desperation even. John tightened his grip around her waist, afraid that at any moment she might fade from him - that this time he would lose her forever. He burrowed his face in her neck, breathing in her scent and reveling in her warmth. It almost seemed real…

"I wish I could stay like this forever." He whispered.

"Someday we will."

Mary brought his face down to hers and kissed him gently, and he responded with an urgent desperation that scared him.

Mary drew away and breathed deeply, placing her forehead against his and closing her eyes. "Listen to me John."

" I – "

" – a woman is coming, John, she's running and wounded and she's coming!" Mary opened her eyes, which shone brightly up at him. "Fate is running and wounded, but with her is Hope, John – you with me? This is important!"

"Fate. Hope. Running."

John frowned and stood up straight.

"What?"

He suddenly felt exhaustion roll over him in waves, and his legs finally gave way beneath him. Words and puzzles and rhymes spun around in his head – was this real? Was he even alive, or was this hallucination due to an epic amount of blood loss because of the car crash? What car crash? Had that happened? Mary…?

His wife stood over him, holding his face in her hands.

"I don't…I don't understand what you want me to…"

Mary silenced him with a kiss, and then wrapped her arms around his neck, whispering in his ear …

"All it takes is faith and a smile, John."

He woke up to a weak, but frantic knocking on the door of his motel room.

So tell me what you think! Sorry it's a little bit short, but this is sort of a prologue if you like, I think that's what it's called. The next chapter will be longer, plus it will have more of the boys in it. I can't wait to write it! Please review :)