So.. You might be asking where the hell my other stories are.. Lemmie explain that I've got massive writers block and I'm using this story to help me out x.x Trust me I've got the document for "Hello New Life" open and it's honestly just sitting there, sucking up my battery on my computer. I'll get to it eventually and until then, read this story and enjoy it!
Also, I'm wondering if I should get a Beta but.. I have no clue how it works x.x usually I just edit my stories but that doesn't always work.. Lel I'm sure you can tell. Some of the errors I stumble upon when I reread my stories a month later makes me facepalm hard.
Anyway, enjoy first chapter!
They knew hunting was hard.
Hell, they lived it and they still couldn't come home without a scratch or looking like they just trekked through hell.
"I get first shower." The older grumbled as he dumped his duffel on the nearest bed to the door and stumbled off to the bathroom. The younger took a sweeping look of the room but he didn't really care. They've stayed in many rooms like this and some were even worse.
He likes to imagine that his brother would be commenting on what a hell hole this room is.
He immediately pushed the thought from his mind on his absent brother and instead went to lie on his bed and listen to his father take a shower in the other room.
Eventually when the older left the room, he kept the door open to invite his son to take a shower next. He really needed it as the younger was covered from head to toe in dirt, grime, and blood.
"Sam go take a shower, son." John said with a sigh as he rubbed his wet hair with his fingers and moved out of the way as Sam edged past him into the bathroom.
John sat down at the small table and sighed. He thought about the hunt that they were going to start tomorrow. He certainly wasn't excited and obviously Sam wasn't either. First, they'd need therapy to get over their last hunt but since neither of them wants to go see a shrink, they settle on awkward silences and music filled car rides to try to help them forget about the screams and blood.
This hunt was different however.
It was supposedly a ghost that had lost it's family and died alone and attacks any families that apparently reminds him of his own.
John couldn't blame the ghost. If he lost all of his family, he'd be going around, fuming as well.
John thought about it, and honestly he partially already had lost most of his family. He's lost his beautiful and amazing wife, and his adorable, innocent four year old son.
His heart felt heavy as he thought about his fallen loved ones again. It was hard not to however since he was on a revenge driven journey to avenge them.
There was nothing normal about the way they died.
The first death was Mary. She was pinned to the ceiling and bled down on John as she burst into flames and sent him and his two sons flying down the stairs and outside as they watched the flames trickle from the nursery's window.
The next death.. well it was't necessarily death. Dean didn't really die in front of him. Instead he went missing but John has plenty of evidence for possible death on his four year old.
The evidence? Dean's room was full of sulfur. Plus on his bed he spotted blood and it hadn't even been a year after his wife had died in a mysterious way.
John had grieved for months, Sammy was too young to understand but even he seemed to realize that something was wrong in their universe. He began to decline his bottle and cry constantly. In the end John sent him to Bobby's for some space and got tons of work done before he returned to see the nearly year old baby sleeping in the old, crabby hunter's arms.
Sam had grown without an older brother to constantly protect him. No, Sam grew protecting himself and most of the time, he could. There were times however at school or at home he'd have trouble. Bullies mostly but at home John would usually underestimate how much money Sam would need, or he'd overestimate how long he'd be gone for.
Although John never really knew. Sam would never tell him he'd run out of money since he'd get his own job somewhere. With those puppy dog eyes and his smarts, anybody would take him in.
He sighed and rubbed his face until he heard the water shut off and he looked to see his son strutting out of the bathroom. John likes to think that he took after him.
"Wanna go for some late dinner or beers?" Sam asked as he shoved his old clothes into his bag and stretched. John glared at the long limbs that Sam now had. Over the year, Sam had sprouted and now he was getting much taller than his father and it pissed John off to no end because now not only did he have his advantage in height, it seriously damaged his ego when he couldn't reach some things when Sam could.
"Yeah we could go to a bar. I'm personally not that hungry." John grumbled as he stood and grabbed his keys. He led them out to the Impala and got in without a word and turned the ignition.
They didn't go far to find a bar and they got out, avoiding a biker gang. Not because they were intimidated (seriously, no biker would want to try a fight with Winchesters) but they just didn't feel like picking up attention tonight.
As they strolled up to the bar, John ordered something strong while Sam settled for nuts and beer. They both sat there until they heard a fight behind them.
"Leave it, Campbell!" John perked up at the name and immediately turned and stood. Sam quizzically watched him as a fight began to break out between two men. Two very loud men.
"Make me, Trainer." The smaller man of the two sneered as he stood strong and not at all intimidated by the man's height that towered over him.
The man struck down and Sam expected it was light's out for the smaller guy, but amazingly the guy had fast reflexes and was very flexible as he bent around the path of the man's fist and hit back with a strong force that Sam didn't expect from someone like him. Not that the guy was small by any means. He was obviously an Alpha, but he seemed more like a lover than a fighter.
John moved forward and before Sam realized what was happening, he was dragging the man outside, who gave very loud protests the entire way.
As they got outside, the man ripped his arm from John's grasp and seemed flustered as he roughly straightened his jacket's collar.
"Who the hell are you?" He demanded and John frowned.
"Someone that overheard some names. Lemmie clear this up. My name's John Winchester. Your name is Campbell?" He asked straightforward and Sam was sent reeling back on his heels at his father's words. He's never heard him say his real name so quickly!
The male looked him up and down before a slight smirk graced his features.
"You're a hunter, aren't you?" He asked and the two Winchester's exchanged looks of bewilderment.
"Sorry, I'm used to meeting a lot of hunters. You guys stand out looking like that in slickerville." He joked and brought his hand forward to shake.
"Dean Campbell at your service. Also a hunter mind you." He winked and John took his hand and nodded.
"Interesting. You live here?" He asked and Dean shrugged.
"For the moment. I'm usually travelling around the States though." He explained as he frowned at them.
"What brings you guys here?" He asked suspiciously and John grunted.
"We had to stop after our hunt for some rest." John said to him and Dean sighed.
"Well if you stay in town any longer, could you assist me?" He asked and John studied him.
"There's a hunt?" He asks and Dean nods as he began to stroll down the street. They walk for a while and Sam's starting to feel nervous about this "Dean Campbell" but his father seems to trust him.
They come upon an alley with police tape deep inside, bordering a bloody scene.
"It's been here for just three hours. I was investigating it since it was pretty strange. Teenage girl had apparently ripped her own stomach open." He explained as he stood at the tape with his hands in his pockets. John glanced at Sam then joined him at staring at the scene.
"Maybe the girl was suicidal?"
"I'd think nah. She had perfect grades, a jock boyfriend who was giving it to her every week apparently, and she had all good friends. She had a pretty nice future. Also, there was no weapon found on the scene. All there was, was the girl and her bloody hands buried in her." Dean shook his head and Sam shuddered as he imagined stumbling upon her.
"What's your alias? We'll come with you to the police station tomorrow." John told him and Dean smirked.
"Dean Van Halen." He said and John snorted but said nothing.
They exchanged numbers and left in opposite directions.
"Dad, what the hell?" Sam asked as soon as he saw Dean disappear around a corner. John glanced at him but said nothing. Sam didn't like the troubled look in his eyes.
They walked and Sam tried to figure out mentally why the hell his father already trusted the man. He seemed to be a little older than Sam but not by much. He was probably also in his twenties.
"Dad." He growled and John shrugged and looked away.
"He has the same name Mary did.." He mumbled and Sam stopped short and stared at his father in disbelief.
"What, Campbell? Dad that isn't a reason to give our identities away! What if he's a demon that knows he could use that card?" He snapped and John grunted, his shoulders moving as he laughed softly.
"Now who's the paranoid one?" He teased lightly as they came back to the bar and went to the Impala.
"Hey." A voice greeted them as John was unlocking the car door, and John turned to see the same man that was fighting with Dean before.
He stayed silent and narrowed his eyes, leaving the man to explain what the hell he wanted.
"Tell me where Campbell went." He growled as he pulled out a small knife. A pocket knife. Tiny and barely sharp. John smirked at the baby weapon.
"Nah I'd rather go home, now leave us alone before you make an awful mistake." He said casually and Sam slowly went around the car to his father's side.
What neither of them expected was the man was also armed with a gun. He pulled the pistol out and shot Sam. Luckily his aim was off and hit his shoulder. All three were shocked however and John immediately caught his tall son.
They both stared at each other with wide eyes before John glared at the man with dark fury.
He stood, even though the gun was trained on him now. He was about to threaten the man before a voice started up in Latin.
The man immediately dropped his weapons and gripped at his throat and began to scream and twitch as he madly looked to where the voice was coming from. John realized it was an exorcism for a demon as smoke began to pour from the man's mouth.
When the man collapsed the ground, the two Winchester's looked at each other before a new shadow cast down on them. John went defensive for a moment before he recognized the familiar long, black coat and sandy blonde hair. Dean stood there with a book in his hands, frowning down at them.
"Damn sorry. I should've figured the asshole was a demon." He apologized as he helped Sam up, much to Sam's displeasure of the guy's hands on him. He still didn't trust him.
"You know how to deal with these kind of wounds, son?" John asked but paled slightly. Neither younger men knew why. Dean just figured it was because of the blood though. He pulled up his shirt to reveal an old, healed over gun wound that he had gotten.
"Yeah I have some first hand experience. Now," He directed his attention to Sam, who stared back at him.
"Unless if you don't feel up to it, we're going to drive back to my place and stitch you up." He explained as he helped Sam into the Impala and he got behind the wheel after he respectfully asked for John's keys.
He took a moment to admire everything he could touch before John cleared his throat and Dean awkwardly ignited the engine and took off down the road.
As they went, Dean began to think fast and hard. He didn't know why he trusted this family. Hell, he doesn't know why they have the same car that keeps appearing in his dreams. As they pulled up to his apartment, he glanced back and lost his breath when he saw the same army man stuck in the ashtray. Now that was trippy.
He quickly pushed his thoughts away however and helped Sam into his apartment. He hoped none of his cranky neighbors would be up this late to see a bloody Sam. He didn't need someone bringing attention to them.
They got to his room and he swiftly unlocked it and let them in first. What neither Winchester expected was a completely flawless room. Clean from ceiling to floor in every inch of the room. They looked at Dean as he carelessly kicked off his shoes into the closet. They obviously expected him to at least carry a little bit of slobness.
"Sorry if there's a bit of dust. I keep the windows open sometimes to let the air cool in here but the damn city is polluted everywhere." Dean rolled his eyes as he shed his jacket and went into a room and closed the door behind him. John wondered what was in that room as he helped Sam sit.
Dean stood on the other side of the door and took a moment to breath uneasily for a moment. He could barely swallow around the lump lodged in his throat.
"What the hell?" He mumbled as he gripped at his head. Whatever what was happening, his brain didn't like it and neither did he. As soon as these Winchester's were out of here, he was going to split town and find a damn psychic that could help him with his dream problems.
He looked around the room and looked at the pictures he's drawn of his dreams. They are all different but he found the couple of the Impala he's drawn on occasion. The one he just drove in is the exact replica of the dream Impala that is now haunting his dreams. Fantastic.
Carried away and knowing if he stalls any longer, John will come in and Dean doesn't trust that he's a knocker before he enters. He really doesn't want John to see how his mind basically works. He grabs his first aid kit, stacked neatly on a shelf and went out and closed the door behind him. He's surprised to see that John had sat Sam down on his bed but he seemed to be refusing Sam to lay down.
"Okay just lay him down for a moment. He looks like he's going to pass out." Dean said as he set his things down beside Sam and the two Winchester's look at him, and makes him squirm under the dark gazes.
"But I'll bleed on your sheets." Sam mumbled and Dean rolled his eyes hastily and showed some bloody patches in the sheets that have apparently, been thoroughly washed already.
"You think you're the first?" He retorted and shoved Sam down lightly as he went into the kitchen for some scissors.
"Dad I don't trust him.. There's something off. He's way too welcoming to be a hunter." Sam grumbled and John shook his head.
"He looks exactly like his mother.." He whispered and Sam stared at him, gaping.
"Dad you're getting soft. After Dean patches me up we should go." He whispered quickly and urgently before Dean returned.
"You think we'll be able to take that shirt off?" Dean frowned at the wound before he sat Sam back up. He wanted to keep him elevated so he gave John a nod to hold him.
"I'd rather if my dad was doing this." Sam narrowed his eyes at the male who rose an eyebrow. He lifted his hands in surrender however and left the tasks to his father who was quick to take over.
"Sam I think you should at least try to be respectful." John snapped quietly who glared back at him in turn.
"What the hell is wrong with you? Growing up, I've never had a friend that's left the house without a fresh cut on them because you were too scared that they were a shifter or something. Now you're suddenly sucking up to this Dean kid like none other. If I didn't already know you are homophobic, I'd seriously suspect you're looking to bed him." He whispered in a quick, angry tone and John blinked in surprise at the truth in his words. Well, at least for the last one.
Even though they thought they were quiet, Dean was listening around the corner with trained hunter hearing and he could hear all their words. He narrowed his eyes and waited for John's response. When he heard none, he knew that they also were realizing something was wrong about all this.
He straightened his back and went back to his room to sort his hunting gear. As he did he thought hard if he had ever met anyone like them in his childhood.
But as he thought more and more, he couldn't seem to remember any hunters with children as young as him. Sure, he went around with his Uncle, and they went to a lot of places where hunters went to recharge, but never had he stumbled upon the name "Winchester." Except for the gun.
His mind immediately snapped from that thought process as he felt a presence behind him. Before his mind registered what was happening, his body moved for him and he had John pressed against the wall with a gun pointed towards his chest.
The two blinked and Dean immediately retreated back, blushing as he quickly put his gun back down.
"Sorry John. Over the years that move has been saving me more times than anything else." He apologized and John nodded before he studied him and the room. Dean stayed silent and had his head lowered and refused to look at the man. He lowered it more as John stared at the Impala.
"Did you draw all this?" He asked as he grasped the drawing of the Impala, and the Wendigo he drew.
"Yeah. I've been drawing these things since the ripe age of six." He explained reluctantly before he clamped his mouth shut. He doesn't know why he's explaining this stuff to John. He's never explained these things to anyone.
"How's Sam?" He muttered, to change the conversation away from him.
"Better. I made him rest. Did you really know we were hunters from our looks, or is it because of this?" He asked as he showed the picture of the inside of the Impala. In the image it showed not only the ashtray with the stuck army man, but also the back of two heads. One clearly being John but the other was not Sam since the figure didn't have long, shaggy hair. Instead it was cropped and short. Dean sometimes wondered if it was him but he didn't stumble on that thought for too long.
"Well.. I mean the clothes did kinda stick out. Most don't do leather around here. But also the dream helped." He explained meekly and quietly and sighed.
"I'm sorry John but I'd rather not talk about these." Dean told him and John glanced over before his eyes froze on a picture of a blonde haired woman.
Instantly Dean had hands in his shirt collar and was gripping him hard. John's face was in his and the two men stared at each other.
"Why did you draw her?!" John demanded coldly and Dean looked past him at the woman in the picture.
"Her? She keeps appearing in my dreams. I have more if you want to see them." He spluttered but that didn't seem to be the right thing to say because John backed them up until the wall touched Dean's back.
"That woman.." John rasped before his head lowered slowly and Dean watched him in bewilderment for what was going to happen next.
"She was my wife.." He mumbled and Dean's eyes widened.
"Really?" He gasped, not caring for John's grasp on him anymore and went past him to a box he had in a corner of his room and dug into it. In it, there were more papers of pictures of monsters, diners and anything else. He pulled out a couple of her and they were all different.
"She appears in my dreams a ton but I don't know why." Dean explained as he pulled out at least four and he continued to dig.
Dean stopped when he came upon a family picture of her.
"This! This is why I knew you!" He exclaimed as he shoved it into John's hands to inspect. John stared at it as he could see Mary, himself, and his two sons. His beautiful family..
He could feel tears beginning to sting at his eyes but he refused them the right to form. He wasn't about to cry in front of this man he had just met.
"What does this mean?" Dean began to pace as he gripped at his head as more sharp pains came at him with hardly no abandon.
John stared at his wife and four year old in the picture. Oh how he misses them.. What he'd give to see them again..
When he looked back at Dean however, it was suddenly like his mind cleared and he stumbled back slightly. A memory swarmed at him as he stared into Dean's, piercing green eyes.
"Daddy Daddy watch me fly!" Dean yowled as he raced around the yard with his cape flapping behind him. John sat on the porch with a cold beer in his hands and he smiled as he watched Dean race around the yard with nothing stopping him. He was quick for his age and John wouldn't want to try racing against his speed.
Mary came outside with baby Sammy in her arms and she sat down beside him and watched Dean run through the yard, twirling and jumping as he did. The energetic toddler was going to be a handful tonight and both parents dreaded that, but for the moment they could enjoy what the have and laugh while they do.
"John?" Dean helped lower John to a seat as he seemed to lose the will to stand any longer. Dean stared at him in concern as John stared at him with a wide mouth.
"You're going to catch flies." Dean joked uneasily, not sure what was wrong with the man.
"Y-You're.." John tried until they suddenly heard Sam yell from the other room. Dean went out without another word and John was left staring at the man.
"You're my son?"
DUN DUN DUNNNNNN...
Anyway I'm sorry if the way I write is kinda awkward.. I'm trying a new writing style because I'm taking a Writing course at the moment and it's weird and messing me up xD All mistakes are gladly mine and I apologize if this story is confusing.. Or the plotline at least. Hopefully I can make up for it in the next chapter.