AN: Hello my good people! Right, well, this is my first Supernatural related thing post. It's super short but just a thought I had! Sorry, if it's a bit weird so far as writing and stuff goes. I wrote it, like, a few months ago and it's been sitting around for a little while. Please, enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own Superantural in any way!
John Winchester stood completely alone in the middle of a snowy forest, staring down at a broken body. A body so broken, it had taken him hours to collect the pieces, but he was determined to collect all of them.
Tears streamed down his face. He had broken a promise, and now he paid the price. A promise he had made to his now-deceased wife Mary. It was all his fault.
The strong, overwhelming scent of salt mixed with gasoline littered the air around him and burned his eyes. His son had grown too fast. He never had a real chance at a normal life. His obsession with hunting was the reason why son was dead. John blamed himself harshly.
John hadn't even told Sam or Bobby. Bobby had practically raised the boy while John was on the road a lot. Now, Bobby did the same with Sammy.
If only he had been stubborn enough to just say 'no'. Then this would've never happened. John knew full-well the hunting was dangerous. Especially when it included a poltergeist. Those little bastards were persistent.
John looked down upon his eldest son's broken body, that was wrapped in all the gauze he had. He saw this coming too. He knew that if he kept pulling his sons into this crap, they would get hurt both mentally and physically.
He loved his boys. He never wanted to see them hurt or scared. He never wanted to leave them and longed to be with them. He loved them too much, though, and that blinded him from the brutal truth. They'd grown up to be solders, obeying without question, rather than his sons.
The last words of his elder son still haunted him. Give Sammy a normal life, please. John's eyes glazed over as he stared at the body. He would fulfill his son's final wish. He would try his best to, even if it meant going to Hell and back. He would do it.
John ignited his lighter in his hand. He hesitated, taking on last look at his son. He quickly threw the lighter in the fire and the wooden bed lit on fire.
Good bye, Dean Winchester.
AN: As I said before, it is short and a little dark. No, I do not have some kind of sick desire to kill Dean. Please review!