November 16th, 1983 Pt. II

I've been drinking too much, trailing off in the middle of sentences. I hear things at night while I sit in Sam and Dean's room. Everything lately feels like those instances when you remember a dream a few days after you had it, but then you can't remember if it was a dream or if it actually happened. I keep going over that night in my head... why did I ever get out of bed? I left my wife by herself to go watch TV, and she died. I'm so sorry, Mary.

Dean still hardly talks. I try to make small talk, or ask him if he wants to throw the baseball around. Anything to make him feel like a normal kid again. He never budges from my side - or from his brother. Every morning when I wake up, Dean is inside of the crib, arms wrapped around baby Sam. Like he's trying to protect him from whatever is out there in the night.

Sammy cries a lot, wanting his mom. I don't know how to stop it, and part of me doesn't want to. It breaks my heart to think that soon he won't remember her at all. I can't let her memory die.

Woke up yesterday morning with a nasty hangover..

Wasn't in the mood to do much of anything, much less have a heart-to-heart with Mike, who jumped on me the second I walked into the kitchen. I guess that's his right, since it was his house. He was going on about how I have to get myself together, for the boys... but he seemed more concerned about the garage than anything else. Accusing me of phoning it in, you've been barely been in to work... No kidding I've barely been in to work... My wife is dead, something horrible happened to her, maybe my boys are at risk too... how can I forget about all that and go to work for God's sake?

Anyway, I told him he could have it. That stopped him cold. "You're telling me you're gonna give up life's work over this?" Watch me Mike. It's yours.

I walked out of the house with Mike's check in my hand. He wasn't so worried about me that he wouldn't let me go. Do I blame him? I don't know. I took the boys to the nearest check-cashing place I could find. Walked out with enough cash to fill the back of the car with security.

Two 12 gauges - Winchester 1300 pump and a Stevens 311 side-by-side.

Spread of sidearms- good old Browning 9mm

.44 Desert Eagle

snub Ruger SP101 and a little pocket .22

That'll do for a start. Haven't written anything this long in my life. Hope I never do it again.

xxxXxxx

Taken verbatim from 'John Winchester's Journal' by Alex Irvine. None of this is mine. Makes for invaluable background knowledge for writing and a more well-rounded comprehension while reading true cannon.