John violated one of the biggest of his own rules that day. He invited a hunter he didn't know to meet him at the motel room, with the boys.
He needed a partner, and Bobby had sent a guy named Buzz Elton. Caleb knew him, said he kind of an asshole, but a good hunter. John said that was fine. He was looking for someone to hunt a wendigo with, not someone to partner for bridge.
They had planned to meet up at the picnic area of a roadside park, but a tremendous thunderstorm had struck, with no signs of letting up any time soon. They had just gotten into town at an obscene hour that morning, so John hadn't ventured out to find another place to meet. He told Elton to come to the motel room. It wasn't like the boys didn't know what they were doing, anyway.
Elton knocked on the door exactly at 11, and John peered out of the peephole to verify the visitor was wearing the Detroit Lions ballcap Bobby had said was his trademark. Satisfied he was letting the right person into the room, John nodded toward the far bed, an unspoken order for the boys to stay there, near where the bag of weapons was stashed in the corner between the bed and the wall. Even all the way over there, pretending to watch a Magnum P.I. rerun, the boys could smell alcohol on the man when he walked in.
"Winchester," he slurred, shoving out a hand.
"Elton," John nodded, meeting the handshake with a palm that had just been sprinkled with holy water.
John stepped back, allowing the hunter into the room.
"Your boys?" Elton gestured toward the far bed.
"Yeah," John agreed. "They'll stay here. My oldest is shaping up to be a pretty good hunter in his own right, but this thing's a little more dangerous than I want to bring a kid into."
"Copy on that," Elton met John's eyes a moment longer before looking over at the boys. "Damn," the man said, drawing the word out into two syllables. He glanced at John briefly and snorted before looking back at Sam and Dean. "Mother Nature played a joke making that older one a boy, didn't she? That's the damn prettiest boy I've ever seen."
Dean moved slowly, facing the newcomer, while subtly sliding backwards and pulling Sammy behind him.
"I heard you married Mary Campbell." Elton gestured vaguely toward Dean. "That one sure takes after her, don't he? He's got them long eyelashes and them big green eyes and that same mouth she had that was meant to suck cock. You could probably make enough to feed all of ya whoring him out a couple times a we ... "
The rest of the sentence never left the man's mouth, broken into inarticulate sounds by John's fist.
Dean shoved Sam off the bed, pointing to the floor and hissing "Under!" as he moved toward the weapons bag. Sam scooted under the bed as Dean grabbed a shotgun, one not loaded with salt, from the duffle.
John punched the man in the throat, and then kicked him in the gut when he sank to the floor. He grabbed Elton by the back of his shirt and pulled him almost to his feet, enough so that he could lean down and growl in the man's ear "If I ever see you again, they won't find your body." John then hauled him over to the door, shoving him through to land in a puddle, and slamming it behind.
"Good job Dean," John panted, leaning forward to place his hands on his knees. "You can stand down."
Dean lowered the shotgun, propping it in the corner, and knelt beside the bed. "You can come out, Sammy."
Sam slid out and bounded onto the bed. "Dad?" he asked.
John looked up at him.
"How did that man know Mom?" Sam frowned.
"He didn't." John snapped. "If he had, he wouldn't have said that kind of shit about her." John walked across the room and pulled both boys against his chest. "Don't you ever let anyone talk to you like that." He cautioned. "And if anyone tries to make you do anything you don't want to, you make sure they never do anything like that to another kid again. You hear me?"
Both boys nodded and muttered "Yes sir."
John had a beer and reviewed his notes while the boys sprawled out on the other bed, Sam with a book and Dean flipping through channels.
Thirty minutes later, John stood and stretched. "I'm gonna step out and call Bobby. Dean, you got this?"
Dean looked uncertain for a moment, glancing over at the phone between the beds.
"I'm gonna use the payphone in the parking lot." John said, pulling on a hat and jacket. "I wanna make sure that son of a bitch is gone and stays gone."
Dean nodded. "Yes sir."
John walked around the perimeter of the building, not seeing anything resembling Elton's truck or anyone lurking around. He dialed Bobby's number, turning so he could face the door of their room.
"Waterman, State Police." Singer answered.
"Hey, Bobby, it's me." John replied.
"Yeah, and I heard you're in need of another partner." Bobby snorted.
"Did the son of a bitch tell you what he said about Dean?" John snapped.
"He just said that he said something out of line about one of your kids." There was a noise that sounded like Bobby had shifted the phone from one ear to another. "I figured it was Dean. The kid's 14. His mouth is the biggest part of him right now, and that's saying something, considering the snow skis he's got for feet."
"He said Dean was the prettiest boy he'd ever seen, that his mouth was made to suck cock, and that I could support all of us by pimping him out." John ground out.
"And he lived to tell about it?" Bobby scoffed. "You're getting soft in your old age."
"I wasn't gonna kill him in front of Sam," John rolled his eyes. "I was kinda hoping he would still be out here somewhere. But something he said." he continued before Bobby could answer. "He said he knew Mary. He knew enough to know Dean looks like her. He even knew her maiden name. How did he know all that?"
"What was her maiden name?" Bobby asked.
"Campbell," John sighed.
"There was a Campbell that hunted with Sam Colt." Bobby informed him. "Heard his grandchildren or great grands or whatever are carrying on the family tradition. I've never met any of them, don't know their names. They're real loners, don't play well with others types. You s'pose she was related to them?"
"Oh her dad was a hunter, all right." John huffed. "Deer, turkey, wild hogs, ducks you name it. He had Mary hunting and fishing with him like the boy he never had. She could shoot better than I could and I've never seen anyone who could filet a fish like she could. But supernatural? She didn't even believe in ghosts and that sort of thing."
"Well, who knows then." Bobby answered. "He could have done some research on you. I mean, he's known for two days I was sending him to you. He may have found a few minutes to look you up. Could have lived in Lawrence at some point. There's no telling."
"Yeah," John sighed.
"Look, I hate to bring this up," Bobby said hesitantly. "But Elton had a point. Dean is pretty for a boy, not cute like Sam is. Elton probably won't be the last person to think or even say those kind of things. And unless he uglies up in the next couple years, Dean's gonna have a hard time being taken seriously in the hunter community."
"That's why he's gonna kill this wendigo." John announced.
"What?" Bobby spluttered. "John, this thing has already killed a hunter. You can't send a kid after it!"
"Well I'm damned sure not gonna leave my kids alone not knowing where this pervert is!" John hissed. He took a deep breath and continued in a more normal tone. "Look, I already thought about what you said. Dean is a good hunter. I'm gonna hogtie Sam to my belt if I have to, and I'll be out there with Dean. But I'm gonna make sure he's the one who kills this monster and everyone knows it. I want the word to get around that this kid can take care of himself and his baby brother, to keep any other perverts from getting the idea of paying them a visit when I'm not around."
"I understand where you're coming from," Bobby assured. "Really, I do. But I can't say that taking two kids into the woods with a wendigo that's already killed an experienced hunter is a good idea."
"Well, it's a good thing it's not up to you." John snapped before hanging up the phone.
A/N - Oh, don't mind me. Just filling in some plot holes. Like how Mary's family were hunters and no one knew...