A Moment Too Late

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural. Moreover, everything up to the last paragraph in this chapter is nothing more than a novelization of material from the episode. However, I promise that after this chapter, everything will be entirely my own. Except for what belongs to Kripke & co., of course.

A/N: This is AU from the last episode of Season1 onward, and this first chapter is primarily a novelization of part of that episode, leading up to where I diverge from the canon plot. Further notes will be located at the end of this chapter. Also… title is subject to change.

This story is dedicated to Victorian Taxi, for without her I would never have watched Supernatural and this story certainly wouldn't exist.


Chapter 1

Sam came back into the room and stopped, left eye widening at the sight before him. Dean stood planted, unhappy, pointing the Colt at their father. Sam's gaze darted from one to the other in confusion.

"Dean, what the hell is going on?"

John answered for him, giving his older son a level stare. "Your brother's lost his mind."

"He's not Dad," growled Dean.

"What?!"

"I think he's possessed. I think he's been possessed since we rescued him."

"Don't listen to him, Sammy!"

"Dean, how do you know?"

"He – he's different."

"You know, we don't have time for this," interjected John. "Sam, you wanna kill this demon, you gotta trust me."

Conflicted, Sam stared from his father to his brother and back again, worried and unsure. He studied Dean's grieved expression, meeting his brother's eyes for a moment, and John's impatient, earnest one, as if he did not believe this was happening.

"Sam," said his father.

Sam took a deep breath. And then, following his instincts, he said, "No." He shook his head, "No," and he moved to stand beside his brother.

John stared at them for a moment, aghast and sad. "Fine. You both so sure… go ahead. Kill me."

Dean held the gun; he stared at his father; his arm trembled, but he did not fire, and as John bowed his head, Dean found his resolve crumbling. This was his father, for chrissake! This was the man he had looked up to his whole life! He couldn't kill his father any more than he could have killed his mother, were she still alive – or Sam. His love ran too deep.

And that was his mistake.

"I thought so."

John lifted his head, smirking, his eyes gleaming yellow.

And the end began.

Sam cried out as he found himself flung against the wall and pinned, and Dean grunted, struggling and failing to maintain a hold of the Colt, as he too went flying through the air only to be slammed against the ancient planks of the cabin and trapped. Both brothers strained their muscles, seeking to escape the force that held them, but to no avail. And still smirking, the yellow-eyed demon in their father's body strode forward and picked up the precious gun.

"What a pain in the ass this thing's been."

Sam glowered at him. "It's you, isn't it." John grinned, and Sam went on. "We've been looking for you for a long time."

"Well, you found me."

"But the holy water…"

"You think something like that works on something like me?"

Seething, Sam struggled all the harder. "I'm gonna kill you," he snarled.

"Oh." The yellow-eyed demon was all too amused. "That would be a neat trick. In fact… here." He set the Colt upon the table. "Make the gun float to you there, psychic boy."

And when Sam proved unable to do so, 'John' chuckled. "You know, this is fun. I could've killed you a hundred times today, but this… this is worth the wait." He looked at Dean. "Your dad – he's in here with me, trapped inside his own meat suit. He says 'hi,' by the way. He's gonna tear you apart. He's gonna taste the iron in your blood."

"Let him go," hissed Dean, "or I swear to God—"

"What? What are you and God gonna do? You see, as far as I'm concerned, this is justice." He moved closer, leaning close. "You know that little exorcism of yours? That was my daughter."

Dean blinked. "Who? Meg?"

"The one in the alley… that was my boy. You understand?"

"You gotta be kidding me."

"What? You're the only one that can have a family? You destroyed my children. How would you feel if I killed your family?" The demon paused, a slow smile curving his lips. "Oh – that's right. I forgot. I did. Still, two wrongs don't make a right."

"You son of a bitch!"

Sam, silent hitherto in his struggles to force his psychic abilities to work, for once, interrupted: "I wanna know why. Why'd you do it?"

The demon turned to him. "You mean, why'd I kill Mommy and pretty little Jess?"

"Yeah."

"You know, I never told you this," said the demon to Dean, as he wandered back over to Sam, "but Sam was gonna ask her to marry him. Been shopping for rings and everything. You wanna know why? Because they got in my way."

"In the way of what?"

"My plans for you, Sammy. You… and all the children like you."

"Listen, you mind just getting this over with?" sighed Dean. "'Cause I really can't stand the monologuing."

'John' rounded on Dean. "Funny. But that's all part of your m.o., isn't it? Masks all that nasty pain. Masks the truth."

"Oh yeah? What's that?"

"You know, you fight and you fight for this family, but the truth is… they don't need you. Not like you need them. Sam… he's clearly John's favorite. Even when they fight, it's more concern than he's ever shown you."

Dean's lips twitched into a brief smirk. "Yeah, I bet you're real proud of your kids too, huh? Oh wait – I forgot. I wasted 'em."

The demon gazed at him for several long seconds; he bowed his head for a moment, and when he looked up, Dean let out a yelp of pain, writhing as much as he was capable, still trapped as he was.

"Dean! No!"

Sam renewed his struggles, fueled by fear and anger at the sight of blood leaking down Dean's chest from whatever the demon was doing. Dean clenched his jaw, doing his best to swallow his screams, while the demon just stood by and smiled.

"Dad. Dad," grunted Dean. "Don't you let him kill me!"

The onslaught did not abate.

"Dean!" cried Sam, again.

Agonized and swiftly-weakening from the pain and the blood loss, Dean looked tearfully into what should have been his father's eyes. "Dad… please," he whispered one last time before things became too blurry to properly focus, and he slumped against the force that held him.

"Urgh. Dean! No!" Sam had never been more afraid in his life than he was now, with Dean dying and he, powerless to prevent it.

And then a miracle happened. John was able to regain control of his body – only for a few seconds, but it was enough.

"Stop it," he whispered, eyes once again brown, and both Sam and Dean fell from their positions against the walls; unlike Dean, Sam landed on his feet.

The youngest Winchester wasted no time in grabbing the Colt from the table and lunging forward, aiming the gun straight at John Winchester's heart. The demon, once again in control, smiled.

"Kill me, you kill Daddy."

"I know."

And that was exactly why Sam abruptly changed aim and shot his father (and the demon) in the leg. After a brief spasm of surprise and pain crossed his features, the man collapsed, leg folding beneath him as he fell backwards, John once again regaining control, as the demon within him writhed in pain.

Sam rushed to Dean's side, his primary concern that his brother – the one person dearer to him than aught else, even their father – was alive and safe. He stared, doing his best to assess Dean's status as quickly as possible.

"Dean! Dean, hey… Oh God, you lost a lot of blood."

"Where's Dad?" asked Dean, his voice a whisper – and barely even that.

"He's right here. He's right here, Dean."

"Go check on him."

"Dean!"

"Go check on him."

Sam rose slowly, unwilling to forsake his brother's side. But after several seconds, he did as he was bid and approached John.

"Dad… Dad?"

John gasped. "Sammy!" he cried, panting, still struggling against the demon. "It's still inside me. I can feel it! Just shoot me. You shoot me. You shoot me in the heart, son!"

Without hesitation, Sam lifted the gun, aimed it and pulled back the hammer. He swallowed, and inside, he felt as though his heart – so painstakingly put back together this past year – would shatter anew.

"Do it now!" John shouted.

"Sam," growled Dean, horrified. "Don't you do it."

"You gotta hurry," insisted John. "I can't hold onto it much longer."

And Sam hesitated, torn between the two. His head – and hell, even part of his heart – was with his father. The demon had to be killed – now, while it was vulnerable. Now was the time to avenge their mother – and to avenge Jessica. Now was the time to end it all! And yet, this was his father. For all their fighting, for all the ways in which Sam and John had hurt each other, Sam still loved the man dearly. How could he commit patricide, even now? And with Dean, whose opinion mattered far more than John's ever had, insisting that he not, how could Sam even think about pulling that trigger?

"You shoot me, son. Shoot me! Son, I'm begging you: we can end this here and now."

Still, Sam did not shoot; his whole body trembled, and he felt his eyes burn with tears that wanted to fall.

"SAMMY!"

"Sam, no…"

"You do this! Sammy! Sam…"

The world stood still and silent for one long second. Then, John screamed, his jaw stretching wide to emit the thick black smoke that was a demon. Sam jumped, squeezing the trigger. There was a loud crack, and their father's screaming choked off. But the demon did not cease to emerge – if anything, the cloud flowed faster and was gone in the blink of an eye, and Sam knew with leaden certainty that he had failed.


A/N: Chapter 2 is actually complete. It just awaits proof-reading, and you can expect it to be posted sometime next week. When exactly that happens, though, depends on when I get enough time to sit down and give it a good read through. Chapter 3 will be much slower in coming, however, for as of late, my mind has been entirely on other things and other writing projects. Rest assured, though, that this is a story I do intend to finish. I imagine that either once season 4 is on DVD or when season 5 starts airing, I'll get back on a SPN kick. But of course, college leaves me with relatively little time for writing, so… eh… tl;dr: updates will be sporadic.

On the story itself: This idea spawned from conversations I've had with Victorian Taxi, and she has helped by giving me a lot of feedback concerning what I've written of this fic, because she's awesome like that. :) Nonetheless, further feedback is always welcome, so don't hesitate to offer criticism, ask questions, comment, etc.

And as for how AU it goes… well, you'll have to wait and see. But I doubt it'll be on the same track as the actual episodes – indeed, I plan to diverge quite a bit at first, but that's not to say it may not come back to the series' canon plot eventually.

Thanks for reading!

- Snarky