A/N: I don't know where this came from. I'm not really a writer, or a deep thinker, I don't have the patience. This just came to me while I was washing my car, of all things. It is what it is. It's very short, sorry, just a little of John's thinking while saying goodbye to Dean. I'm sure this has been done before. I actually teared up a little writing it. Let me know what you think, if you're so inclined. Sorry, I have no beta except my husband that went through it for spelling errors because Windows 10 is crap and doesn't have anything.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own Supernatural.

This was the right choice. John knew that, even as he hated himself for having to do it. Dean didn't deserve this, any of it. He'd meant every word he'd said, tried to choke out everything he should have told his oldest a long time ago while he still had the chance.

"I put...I put too much on your shoulders, I made you grow up too fast. You took care of Sammy, you took care of me. You did that. And you didn't complain, not once. I just want you to know...that I am so proud of you."

Dean had always done everything he'd been asked, sacrificed every bit of himself to protect his family. He couldn't have asked for a better son, a better partner in this war they'd all been unwillingly dragged into. It killed him to do this, to put even more of a burdon on Dean. One he might not recover from. He'd never meant for this to happen, it wasn't supposed to go this way. John was supposed to take care of this himself, kill this demon before it could get anywhere near his children ever again. He was ready to die doing it, that was a perfectly acceptable outcome so long as his sons were safe. It was why he'd tried to stay away from them. Take out the demon on his own, make sure it's plans for his youngest never had the chance to happen, and neither of them ever had to know any of it. They could finally be free of this life. John could have died happily knowing that was the outcome.

To pass this on to Dean...that terrified him. He didn't doubt his son's abilities in this fight. Dean was a damn fine hunter, one of the best, if not the best he'd ever seen. Together he and Sam made one hell of a team. No, John didn't doubt Dean could get the job done, he feared what may happen to him in the process. After Mary had been killed and he'd learned the truth, he'd been broken beyond repair. Nothing but a deep, aching need for revenge and two children to take care of to keep him going. The thought of Dean following in his footsteps and becoming just as broken cut a wound deep and sharp someplace in him John had thought died years ago.

"S'this really you talkin'?"

John smiled, a little, sad with himself. Dean shouldn't sound so confused to hear this coming from his own father.

"Yeah, Yeah, it's really me."

"Why you sayin' this stuff?"

John couldn't answer, had to get through this before he lost his nerve. Didn't have time to explain it even if he wanted to. He stepped forward and placed what he hoped was a comforting hand on his son's shoulder as he gave his last order.

"I want you to watch out for Sammy, ok?"

"Yeah Dad, you know I will. You're scarin' me..."

John knew that. He was acting completely out of character and this was coming out of nowhere to Dean.

"Don't be scared, Dean" John managed a confident smile as he leaned forward to entrust his oldest with his most important task.

"Watch out for Sammy. You have to save him, Dean. Nothing else matters. You have to save Sam, if you can't, you have to kill him"

What was left of John Winchester's heart shattered at the look on his son's face. Confused, scared, disbelief, and maybe wondering if his old man had finally lost all his marbles. He hated himself for it, but this was the only right choice he could make. It had to be all in Dean's hands now.

John wished he could speak to Sam, but there was no time. He regretted all the fights, all the heated words that didn't really mean anything except that they were frustrated with each other and couldn't communicate worth a damn. He knew Sam loved him despite all the fighting and the best thing John felt he could do for his youngest was leave him with his big brother to watch out for him. It was the best option he could see at this point. Sam looked up to Dean and respected him in a way he never had John, and Dean could reach his little brother in ways no one else could. If anyone could save Sam, it was Dean.

John stepped back, managed a confident nod at Dean while he tried not to bawl his eyes out at the thought of leaving his son like this. He gave himself a quick moment to fix the image of Dean in his mind for the last time. His strong, capable son who would do anything for his family and never gave up even in the most dire of circumstances. He could do this, John had to believe that.

He'd never been a praying man, really, but during the short walk from Dean's room to his own, John sent a desperate plea to a God he wasn't sure he believed in, hoping with everything he had left that someone was listening.

Please look after my children. Please don't let them become like me. Please, please help them win this fight. Please keep them safe.

Then, finally:

I'm so sorry Mary. I wish I could have stopped all of this, kept our kids safe. I wish they could have the life you would have wanted for them. Please forgive me.

By the time John reached his own room and faced the demon that waited, there wasn't a trace of fear to be seen. He allowed himself a short moment to stare it down, showing every bit of hate and resentment he could muster.

You filthy, evil, son of a bitch. Enjoy your time while you can. My sons are going to kill you.

He calmly walked in and set the Colt on the bedside table, and looked up at the thing he'd hunted for over two decades.

"Okay"

*`FIN`*