Next in my 'Fight the Good Fight' 'verse.
Bobby Singer stood on his front porch as he watched a black car park in front of his home in South Dakota. He'd been expecting this guy-John Winchester-to show up any minute now. Bobby had received a call from Pastor Jim Murphy, telling him he had a new hunter who needed some help.
The loud engine cut off and a man with brown eyes and dark hair climbed out of the driver's seat. He gave a quick nod to Bobby before walking around to the passenger seat and opening the door. A little blond kid got out and followed his dad to the backseat.
Jim had warned Bobby that Winchester had kids, but he hadn't told him how old they were. Bobby was expecting older kids who could halfway take care of themselves, not a toddler and a kid barely past his knees.
"Winchester?" Bobby called out, half hoping this was just some family lost and in need of directions.
John nodded as he carried the toddler up the porch steps, the blond kid one step behind him. "John. You Bobby Singer?"
"Yeah," he replied, readjusting his ball cap, "Come on in," The older hunter led the trio of Winchesters into his house and to the kitchen. After offering John some coffee, which the man gladly accepted and unknowingly passed Bobby's test of holy water, Bobby suggested the boys leave the room. "It probably ain't a good idea for them to be listening to our conversation."
The young man hesitated, but nodded reluctantly. John gave the blond kid the small toddler and said, "Dean, go play in the other room with Sammy okay? Don't touch any of Mr. Singer's things, though. Can you do that for Daddy?"
Dean nodded and barely struggled to carry the small child into the other room.
"Can I ask you what the hell you think you're doing?" Bobby hissed quietly when Dean had left. "You can't bring kids into this line of work!"
John sent him a glare, "Like I told Jim, I'm not letting my boys go-"
"Then don't. Find yourself a house and stay there. Murphy says you're still new to this, get out while you still can. Let your boys have a normal life-"
"Normal? You call what happened to my Mary normal?" John half shouted, but with a glance over his shoulder to the doorway he lowered his voice. "Dean caught a glimpse of his mother burning on the c-ceilng. He won't talk at all. Our lives aren't normal and they never will be thanks to whatever happened to my wife."
Bobby scrubbed a hand over his unshaved face, "Listen, Winchester, I'm just warning ya' here. When you get into this lifestyle, there is no turning back. You think long and hard about what you want to do to yourself and those two boys. This is dangerous stuff. Witches, Wendigos, werewolves, vampires, demons, shape-shifters, and everything else in the dark. Some of this stuff you can't just...un-see. There are some gruesome things in this world."
There was a short pause before John said, "Jim said you lost your wife, too. Tell me, Singer, would you have chosen a different path?"
No, he wouldn't of. But then again Bobby didn't have two sons and he never would. Bobby didn't answer thanks to a five year old Dean rushing into the room and tugging on his father's arm.
"What is it, Ace?" John asked patiently, knowing he would receive no verbal response. Dean pointed to the other room and John stood up, facing Bobby, "I made my decision, Singer. I'm not changing it, either. Not until that thing is gone." With that said, John picked up his son and left the room.
"You'll be huntin' long after that, John." Bobby sighed. He knew it would never stop with whatever killed Mary Winchester, it never did. People became hunters out of revenge but when they finally got said revenge, they could never seem to stop hunting.