Untitled – SN fic

Part 1 (intro)

by J.A. Carlton

aka sifichick

Disclaimer – Oh yeah… still here darn it.

Love – Oh yeah… still here thank the Universe.

Before the Vanir in Burkittsville, before the voodoo gig in New Orleans… there was That Time… that moment and those days that made hell itself a preferred option.

Dear God… if you really exist… if you really give a damn about our piss pathetic race, help him find what he needs… help him please, John Winchester prayed fervently as he made the turn into the overgrown, once-upon-a-trail that led to the Sasquatana National Forest.

You are sub-human John! You are the worst kind of scum doing what you've done… you drugged your own child! You poisoned your son you son of a bitch! Okay so a little whiskey goes a long way but to a kid that age it's as good as poison and you know it! His mind screamed at him and beneath that he could feel Mary, his beloved Mary berating him, telling him he'd gone too far this time and she was never, Ever going to be able to forgive him for this. Still he continued onward, the survival of his sons at stake and nothing else mattered.

About three miles into the forest he recognized the slanted trees that pointed East at the foot of the mountain. He put his borrowed truck into park and bowed his head against the steering wheel. His guts were heaving and his face dripped sweat as he got out and moved to the back seat, the easy light snoring of his boy doing its best to tear his heart from his chest.

He reached out and grasped the black leather cord around Dean's neck, instantly flashing back to the night he'd given it to him. He wondered if Missouri had known just how right she'd turn out to be. Dean hadn't had a screaming type nightmare since John had tied it around his neck, but he thought it might have done more for the boy too than just arrest the nightmares. Nothing seemed beyond him, it was as if there was nothing he couldn't do or handle, especially when it came to looking after his little brother. John knew his youngest would always be safe as long as Dean was around. Of course the whole Shtriga incident in Fort Douglas a couple years ago had made him even more attentive to Sammy. John wasn't sure if it was going to prove to be a good thing or not later in life, but right now Dean did nothing without Sammy at his side or in his sight. Yeah, yet another time you put your own flesh and blood at risk in the name of your insane quest! You are a full time bastard John…he flogged himself knowing he was walking a frighteningly fine line.

HE felt his eyes film over as he pocketed the pendant, not even noticing that what he'd originally thought was a simple blob of metal, had acquired an actual shape and countenance somewhere over the last nine years.

His heart pounded against the inside of his chest, some feral beast trying to escape as he sifted through the pack on the floor of the vehicle. It held all the basics his boy would need if he used them wisely. As he zipped Dean into his sleeping bag and lifted him from the back seat he soothed his conscience with the knowledge that Dean was already a proficient young hunter and that he'd often had to fend for himself as well as Sammy in surroundings that werefrequently far less hospitable than this.

Yeah but you never took the talisman away before! his parental mind scolded him, It's just a pendant! But he remembered Missouri's words through the window of his car as if she were speaking them now, "Yes John, it has meaning and that meaning has power."

It's kept his nightmares at bay, it's helped him rise to all the hard… okay occasionally cruel challenges I've forced on him… I know it has a power… yeah but it's not the SOURCE of HIS strength… he's my son, he makes me so proud of him it hurts… it's his heart that makes him strong not some damned pendant!

Steeling himself and cradling his unconscious son as best as he could considering how much he'd grown in the last year he moved into the shallow depression in the rock face that would serve his purposes. John could tell that Dean was going to follow his side of the gene pool when it came to height, but he couldn't have said which side Sammy was going to follow. The kid could eat them out of 'house and home' as the saying went, but so far John couldn't tell where he was putting it.

His head rang with protestations as he carried 13 year old Dean into the cave he'd scouted last week. He set him on the ground just as he was beginning to stretch and moan, and hurried back to the truck to retrieve his pack. He placed it near Dean so he would see it quickly and took this last moment to kiss his still unconscious son's forehead just as his young face twisted and a faint mewling crawled out of his throat.

John Winchester strode from the cave without another backward glance and left his thirteen year old son to live or die by what he'd learned in the last nine years.

Please R&R

T BC of course… maybe.

thanks sifi.