John stayed awake nearly the whole night, he couldn't remember getting sleep in a long time for when he slept he only dreampt of Mary, once living so peaceful, holding little Sammy in her arms, playing with Dean, and then only terror when he saw her again burning on the ceiling. He always woke in a cold sweat trying to grasp those early memories of the time where Mary was alive, he longed to hold her again to see her one last time.
But the thought only put more questions in his mind. Why had the demon gone after Sammy? He was just a baby at the time of Mary's death. What could it have possibly wanted with Sam? The son of a bitch demon had murdered his wife the only woman he had ever loved. And left his children motherless, he hated that knowing that Sam would hardly remember Mary, and that Dean would have to deal, like he was, not growing up with Mary. He hated knowing this, knowing that Dean was going through not having his mother and realizing that things would never be as they were. Dean used to ask him "When is mommy coming home?" It was at those times, when John was at a loss for words. He couldn't bare uttering the words, "Mary isn't coming back". But that was when Dean was younger, Dean now was always willing to fight whatever came their way and was always watching over Sam.
Even as his children slept, John stayed up in the crap motel they were in looking over everything he had. It wasn't much use though it wasn't answering any questions and it sure as hell wasn't going to bring Mary back. Which only furthered John's frustration.
He looked over at Dean, his oldest, sleeping peacefully in his bed, he smiled sadly looking at his innocent little boy. He was just 12 years old but to John, he seemed grown up already, so protective of his younger brother and so willing to fight. He was gratetful to have a son like that. He looked over at Sam, the youngest, he looked at him and saw him that night when he was lying in the crib, smiling up at him, then those drops of blood, Mary's blood, falling as if the demon was taunting him telling him "Mary's dead, Mary's dead."
He clenched his teeth furious with himself for bringing him back there. Back to that memory he had tried so hard to push away. Sam was now 8 and John could hardly believe he was growing up so fast. Of course he hadn't involved Sam in much of the fights but he had still trained him well as he did with Dean to help them take down the thing that took there mother. Sam was resistant not really fully understanding but Dean had always understood. Dean helped Sam understand a little better about why they were doing this. John couldn't blame Sam after all, he had basically been raised on the road from the day of the fire. Sam was struggling to understand what was going on and John knew this. He wished he could have shown his youngest son a somewhat normal childhood. Dean had gotten a few years with Mary, but Sam wasn't even a year old when she was taken.
John stared at his journal, his own list of demons and other evil, he remembered that night as Missouri's when she revealed everything, a demon had killed Mary. He didn't believe her at first, but the more he thought about it the more he believed it. Missouri was smart, he knew she wasn't full of it. But still a demon? Back before Mary had died he would of laughed at that. A demon? Ridiculous...he would of just laughed in her face. But after seeing Mary that way...he knew nothing human had done that to her. He knew Missouri was right.
John looked at his boys sleeping in their beds. He glanced over at Sam and saw he was shaking a bit. He moved closer, it was a chilly fall night. He thought maybe he wasn't warm enough with the crap blanket the motel provided. He found a heavier one and placed it on him hoping that would stop him from shaking.
He looked over at Dean, who seemed fine, not shaking at all just sleeping. He smiled, Dean was a great kid, a great brother, a great son. Hopefully he knew that because in John's eyes he couldn't have asked for two more perfect boys then his two. He knew Mary loved them beyond belief. He missed her smile, their old life together in that cursed house. He had returned there only a few times in the past, with Missouri, she told him of the evils that walked their house. He was nearly sick by the whole visit. It disgusted him being back there. Sure there were good memories there but that was all washed out by the fire. It made John sick being in that house he hated it. But he knew that Missouri could help so he went.
Of course he didn't bring the boys along with him he didn't want them back there. Especially Dean. Mary's death was hard on Dean almost as hard as it was on himself. He didn't want Dean back there again reliving it all. Nor did he want Sam there. Sam hadn't remembered anything about Mary and John hated this. He would never know of the loving mother who adored him so much. He only knew what Dean had told him and what he himself had managed to say about her. He remembered the tiny infant they brought home from the hospital, how Dean was so excited to have a little brother. For a fracture of a moment they were a family, a normal, loving, innocent family. But everything changed at the blink of an eye. Mary was taken and it nearly destroyed John. He found it unbelievable that in a fraction of a second his life would change forever.
Dean didn't talk of the fire at first. John didn't blame him, he didn't feel like talking about it either. But he seemed to be bottling up his frustration and John was pretty sure that wasn't good. He considered finding someone for Dean to talk to but he didn't want to push it especially if Dean didn't want it. He decided to wait see if he came around.
Dean did, after awhile he opened up, talked to John about that night. He asked questions. But John didn't have all the answers and in some cases he didn't want to tell him. Dean was frustrated knowing so little, but wanting to know so much. It was equally as frustrating to John, he had virtually no answers and no one to talk to. Who would believe him? His old friends had abandoned him except for the other hunters he met along the way. He knew he wasn't crazy. It was his old friends that thought he was crazy. But if only they knew...
John glanced at the clock, 2am, he had been sitting there thinking for nearly an hour. He looked over at his boys again, Dean was still sleeping peacefully, but Sam was another story. John raised his eyebrows, Sam had started to shiver worse in his bed. John was confused the blanket he put on Sam was a heavy winter blanket. He walked over concern washing over his face.
"Sam?"
Sam continued to shiver. John was worried beyond belief now. Thoughts raced through his mind. "What if a demon got to him?" "What if he's sick?"
"Calm down John" he said to himself, "He's probably just cold".
But he couldn't shake the thought that something was wrong.
"Sam?" he said again
No response, but he hadn't expected one. He walked closer to the bed hoping to wake Sam up. Although he hated doing that they needed their rest. Especially Sam, he hadn't been getting much sleep lately. He walked closer to the bed his concern rising now.
"Sam?" He said again fear rising his voice
Sam still didn't respond.
"Maybe he's having a nightmare?" John thought. But even as he thought this a shadow of doubt washed over him. He went to Sam's bed and tapped his hand on his shoulder, trying to wake Sam. But he didn't wake.
"Sam" He said louder this time.
"Sam what's wrong?"
"Dad?" a voice said
"Dean?"
"Yeah, what's wrong with Sammy, Dad?"
"I don't know"
"Well, why is he shaking?"
"I don't know Dean"
John is now unbelievably scared, Sam wont wake up and he's shaking horribly. He crosses the floor and switches on the overhead light.
Sam suddenly bolts upright, breathing uncontrollably
"SAM?" was the unison heard from both John and Dean
"Sammy, you alright" Dean questioned, panicked
Sam just looked strait ahead into the darkness, not looking or saying anything
"Sammy!" Dean shook his little brother, trying to make him come to
"Dean?" his brother questioned
"Yeah Sammy its me"
"What's going on?"
"I don't know Sam, why don't you tell us"
"I think I had a nightmare"
"No kidding" John chimed in laughing nervously knowing his boy was alright
"What about Sammy?" Dean asked him
"I'm not sure, it was really dark, and I...I just don't remember!"
"Its alright Sam, don't worry about it" Dean said, comforting his brother
Dean turned pausing to stare at his father, who was gazing out the window
"Dad, what's wrong?"
"We're leaving, now!"