Chapter 1:- Heaven
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The morning sun filtered through the curtains, bathing his face in its warmth.
John sighed in contentment, savouring the moment, before opening his eyes as he did each day to turn and bury his face in his wife's sweet-smelling hair.
He had every instant of his perfect life laid out with military precision, the more to indulge in each splendid moment.
Stretching out an arm to pull Mary close, he frowned in confusion when his palm didn't register the familiar warmth of his wife's body, but only the cool cotton of the sheet.
It couldn't be-the memory played out in the exact same way every morning, regular as clockwork.
His eyes were still closed but he was now loathe to open them. Something was wrong. All his instincts were on red-alert and he was suddenly terrified at what he might see.
But open them he must.
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With his heart in his mouth, he cracked apart his eyelids to peek through.
The sun blinded him and he quickly re-closed them with a grunt of annoyance. Tilting his head, he tried again, and what he saw was enough for him to understand, that like Dorothy, he wasn't in Kansas any more, though his name was John Winchester and his Kansas was Heaven.
"What the Fuck!"
Where was Mary, the boys, his home? He was in a bed all right, just not the usual one.
Trembling, he shot off the bed as if it were a ghoul ready to devour him, to find himself tottering like a child who'd just learned to walk. He plonked his ass back down on the motel bed, for that's where he was- in a motel room - and took a deep breath.
No motel room had ever been included his best memories. The hunting life he'd lived on Earth had never been replayed in Heaven. He'd completely avoided all memories pertaining to it, even if they hadn't all been bad.
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John didn't want to consider what this might mean, because either there had been a glitch in Heaven's workings or he really was in a motel room, one back on Earth.
Feeling his legs steadier now, he stood up, casting his eyes around the room.
It was empty, though he himself was fully dressed, shirt, jeans, jacket, boots. He recognised the clothes. He was wearing them the day he'd made the deal with Azazel for Dean's life.
His heart gave a flutter at the memory. His boys. Were they still alive, or had they been killed on a hunt and safe in their own heavenly bubble? He wasn't going to consider any other option...like Hell!
He put a hand to his chest. He could feel his heart pumping blood, maybe a little too fast but solid and strong.
In Heaven he'd never had a heartbeat. Up there it was all smoke and mirrors of the soul.
It was his heartbeat that clinched it. He was definitely on Earth. He was alive.
He had only one question. Why?
He felt his pockets. They were empty. Nothing to indicate the reason he was no longer in Heaven.
Well John, he chided. You're not gonna find out what's going on by hiding in here.
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Earth.
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The kid at the desk never even glanced up at the tall man who approached, that is until John grabbed him by the shirt. "You know what's going on here, kid?"
The kid let out a squeak. "What's with you, man. Let go or I'll call the cops."
"I'll repeat the question. Do you know why the fuck I'm here?"
The kid was really scared now. John Winchester in threatening mode was a sight to put fear into the hearts of stronger men than a scrawny teen.
"I don't know nothin', mister. I only came on this morning. Wasn't me who checked you in."
John knew when he was being lied to; the kid was telling the truth.
"Fine, " he grunted, loosening his hold and letting the boy fall back onto his chair.
"What day is it? Can you tell me that!"
"It's October, October tenth," the boy stuttered.
"Year?"
"2017."
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John took a step back, flustered.
2017! He was in the future; eleven years in the future to be precise.
His boys would be grown men now, in their thirties, if they were still alive.
Suddenly he was overwhelmed by the need to see them, to hold his sons in his arms. His real sons, not the toddler copies he'd hugged so tightly every day in Heaven.
He had one more question for the dude who was staring up at him as if he was Satan in person ready to fillet him.
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"Where is this place? Answer me and I'll get out of your hair."
" Outskirts of Jefferson City."
John nodded. State of Missouri.
It was where Azazel had taken his soul. Where he'd died.
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Turning curtly on his heel, he pushed through the door into the cool air outside. He breathed it in, savoured it, felt his lungs expand as he filled them to the limit.
Earth. He didn't know he'd missed it until he was back.
Now to find his boys.
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In the yard, a couple of cars were parked in front of the rooms. He made for the older of the two. muttered an apology under his breath as he hot-wired it and drove off.
Though John was happy to see that the tank was practically full, he needed cash. His stomach had begun to grumble and unlike Heaven, food didn't magically appear when he wanted it. So he'd need to get hold of some money real soon.
He pulled into the side of the road and rummaged in the glove compartment. The car must belong to a neat freak, for other than the vehicle's registration papers, it was empty.
On a hunch he pulled down the shade and smiled as he saw a twenty dollar note pushed under the strip of nylon.
Emergency gas money.
It would do as a stake for a game of pool. Start off small.
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John grinned.
He felt alive, every fibre of his being revitalized and ready to take on the world. So different from the staleness of heaven.
By God, he was glad to be back
Three hours later, he strolled out of a seedy bar with 300 dollars in his pocket. It would get him something to eat and a bed for the night.
He'd ditch the car and hot-wire a different one. He hadn't been freed from Heaven just to find himself locked up in a jail cell.
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Two days later, he was driving into Sioux Falls. If anyone knew where his boys were, it'd be that old codger Bobby Singer.
Eleven years on, he should still be around. John just hoped he'd stowed away the buckshot.
But John's hopes were dashed as he drove the third hot-wired car up the driveway to Bobby's house, or, John sighed, to where the house had once been.
There were still carcasses of junked cars dotted around, but there was only a dark mound of rotted wood to show for the building.
A fire, John realised quickly. The house had burned down.
He sat in the car, paying silent homage to the place, remembering how it had once been.
It didn't mean Bobby was dead, but it did make John's search for Sam and Dean that much harder.
John Winchester, however wasn't a man to be put off by a glitch. It might take him longer but he'd find his boys.
TBC