May 17th 1987
This would have been our ninth wedding anniversary. Pottery. How is six years iron and nine pottery? I wonder if we would have had more children. Mary talked about a girl sometimes. I would have liked having a daughter.
It's summer, we're on the move. Already I'm trying to figure out what to do about school in the fall. I'm starting to figure out that you can move a kid from school to school every month, and the schools deal with it because they have to. A part of me wonders how the kid deals with it.
But sons have to be soldiers. And soldiers adapt.
John finished his thought as he looked up from his journal at his two sons playing in the ocean's waves. He smiled to himself as Dean held tightly to the four-year olds hand as the two boys jumped over the rolling water.
Dean had just finished the second grade and as soon as the final bell rang, John packed both boys up and moved the small family out of the town they had called home for a month and a half. He figured they would head to Maine next. He had heard about a Miqmaq shaman down that way that may be able to summon something that would give him answers on the thing that killed his wife.
John hoped that this would help and that he could finally get the answers he needed, however after six hours straight in the car, he knew that he would be in trouble if he didn't find a pit stop soon. Both boys had been begging to go to a beach during the summer, so when the Impala found itself on the coast, John pulled off and got out the beach clothes.
The boys played happily in the water for half an hour or so, when John realized it was almost time for lunch. He was sure his boys would soon come begging for food after spending the sunny morning jumping through the waves.
"Boys!" John called to his laughing sons, "I'm going to get us some lunch across the street. Come out of the water until I get back please!"
Immediately those smiles turned to two identical frowns.
"Aw Dad. Can't we just stay in until you get back with lunch?" Dean whined.
"Nope sorry. The undertow is too strong and I don't want you in the water alone when I'm not around to grab you if something happens." John explained shaking his head.
Still pouting, the youngsters obediently trudged out of the water towards their beach chairs. John watched as they sat down and once he was satisfied that they'd stay put; he left in search of food.
After watching John leave, Sam knelt down and began constructing a sand kingdom for his toy soldiers to battle in. He became so immersed in his game that he didn't even notice the middle aged man come over and start talking to Dean.
Suddenly the man left and Dean walked over towards Sam. Sammy didn't bother looking up until Dean's foot came crashing down on the left tower of Sam's masterpiece.
"Hey!" Sammy screeched, angry eyes shooting up to meet Dean's.
Sam stopped short, gasping when he noticed the color of Dean's eyes. They were completely black and like nothing Sam had ever seen before. However something about the look in his eyes was oddly familiar to the little boy.
"Hello Sammy," Dean grinned coldly, "how's our special little boy doing?"
"D-D-Dean?" Sammy shook.
"Why don't you come with me for a walk?" Dean suggested, his voice calm, almost drowsy.
"D-D-Daddy said-" Sam started.
"We'll be back long before your daddy," Dean promised.
He them tried to take Sam's hand, but Sam backed away quickly, something was very wrong with Dean and Sam was scared.
He backed up all the way to the edge of the water, but stopped short, remembering what his daddy told him. He looked back to see Dean walking slowly towards him. Quickly he ran straight into the water, wanting more than anything to get away from this new, scary Dean.
He was about waist deep when a 'bigger than Sammy' sized wave came crashing down on him and pulled him under. He gasped for air, as his lungs filled with salty water.
Dean followed Sam into the ocean, running right into the wave. He started screaming as the water surrounded his body, the salt water burning into his skin like acid.
Trying to escape the burning sensation, the demon commanded the small body he was forced into towards the edge of the water, but inside Dean was holding on, using everything in his power to regain control of his body and save his little brother.
John turned the corner just in time to see the stream of black smoke exiting his eldest son's mouth, no longer able to handle the searing pain of the salty Hell. Dean collapsed onto the sand, small waves still running over him.
Taking in the scene, John immediately dropped his bags of food and ran into the water to save his youngest boy. He grabbed Sam and pulled him to lay beside Dean, both boys gasping for air.
"What happened?" John demanded once he made sure both boys were alright.
"I don't know Dad. I really don't, I promise." Dean replied confused.
Still sobbing quietly from his traumatic experience, Sam choked out his story.
"What did Dean say to you?" John asked when Sam spoke of Dean's black eyes and change in behavior.
"He askeded me 'how's our wittle boy?' an' if I would walk wif 'im." Sammy explained.
John shuddered at the thought. How close was he to losing his little boy to those monsters? He always thought he was hunting them, but maybe all along they were really hunting Sammy. And he was dumb enough to leave the boys alone, they were perfect targets.
"Ok Sammy, everything's going to be alright." John reassured his traumatized sons, holding his youngest tightly to his chest.
"But what was wong wif Dean Daddy? Sammy asked, still puzzled at his brother's scary behavior.
John looked at his oldest, who was still shuddering himself and was looking at John wide eyed. There was no way Sammy was finding out about the terrors of the world yet. He was only four-years old and didn't remember the horrific night that changed the small family's life. John intended to keep it that way.
"Dean's all better now Sammy," John promised, "everything's going to be ok."
"Dad?" Dean questioned, looking up at his father with worried eyes.
John put an arm around his shoulder, unlike Sam; Dean didn't have the pleasure of obliviousness towards John's job.
"You're okay now Dean, nothing will happen to you again." John repeated, " let's get out of here boys."
With that, the small family piled into the Impala; ready to leave the horrors of the day behind. They sped away; John determined to get his boys as far away as possible from whatever was after his son. Whatever this mess he had gotten his family into was, John was going to make sure he took care of it. Nothing like this was ever going to happen to his boys again.
A/N- Thanks to onoasa on Tumblr for the request! This one took a lot of planning and writing and rewriting, but I think I'm finally happy with it! Hope you enjoyed and let me know what you thought!
The italic part at the start was from John Winchester's Journal, page 43-44, and I also used some of the info on page 44 to talk about the Miqmaq shaman.