Without Forgiveness, Sleep Is Elusive

Disclaimer : Supernatural and the characters contained therein are not my property.

Summary: John leaves the boys with Pastor Jim after the shtriga's attack in the episode 'Something Wicked'. Written for a hoodie_fic comment fic meme prompt on LiveJournal.

Jim woke up to the sound of someone banging furiously on his door. Looking across at the clock beside the bed, he registered the time blearily : two thirty-eight. Who could it be at this time? Not something good that was for sure. He pushed himself to move quicker and get downstairs, although it didn't seem likely that whoever was at the door was going anywhere without an answer as the knocking hadn't let up yet.

Flicking on the house lights as he moved, it wasn't long before Jim Murphy was opening up the door to see John Winchester standing there, eyes dark with anger and concern. "John? What's the matter? Has something happened?"

John seemed to breathe a sigh of relief as the door was finally opened and he began, voice conveying some frantic worry inside him, 'Jim, I'm sorry it's so late. I need you to look after Sammy... the boys for me. I've got to get back before it gets away. Will you…?'

Not like Jim was ever going to refuse. It was a pleasure of sorts to have the boys to stay; in fact more than once Jim had offered to let John use his home as a permanent base, to provide the boys with some sort of consistency, some sort of actual home to come back to, with a guardian when their father was out of town. Anything that stopped John leaving them alone in dead-end motels with Dean trying to take care of them both and make sure there were no problems. "Of course, John. Are they still in the car? Asleep?"

John nodded, already turning to head back to the car, "Yeah. I'll go wake them."

"No, wait. Can we lift them in without waking them?" Jim knew it was unlikely they'd be able to do that. Both boys were growing fast, Dean for one would be too heavy to lift, but maybe between them they could guide him out of the car and to bed without waking him fully. Jim thought once upon a time that might have been possible, but now Dean never seemed to sleep well, always awake at the least noise. Jim worried about him, the world rested on his shoulders, had him worrying about things that he shouldn't even know existed let alone be preparing himself to fight and protect his brother from.

John seemed distracted for an instant before turning his attention back to the Impala and heading for the front passenger side door. "I don't know, maybe. Wake Dean, he's in the back, he'll be too heavy. Sammy maybe. I'll bring Sammy in."

It was than that Jim saw something he didn't think he'd ever seen before, Dean alone in the back, with Sam asleep next to the driver's seat up front. He'd opened the door and realized that Dean wasn't asleep but he had a strangely shuttered expression, head hanging but still seeming to watch his brother and his father. Jim crouched down beside the car to try and talk to him, get his attention. Dean didn't react at first, not even shifting his gaze from where it rested round about his brother's shoulder.

Dean's silence, his ability to lock himself away inside his head without ever admitting his own difficulties had worried Jim for as long as he'd known the Winchesters. Sammy was far more open, a child seeking attention, rambling freely in an environment where he knew he was safe to speak about anything. Dean had once said that he thought it was good for Sammy to be like that because he was so full of things to say and he knew he had to be careful at school and in front of other people. Dean had made sure that he knew it was safe to talk to the Pastor. It was a shame that Dean didn't follow his own advice.

Jim wondered what had happened this time. As far as he could tell, Dean wasn't injured but he was verging on catatonic and Jim had finally resorted to giving his shoulder a shake to get a reaction. Dean had finally turned to look at him, eyes huge in the dim light spreading from the porch, the sparkle of unshed tears and Jim just wanted to shake John Winchester for letting his boys be hurt like this. "Dean? It's time to come inside now. Can you manage that or do you need me to help you? Are you hurt?"

Dean blinked slowly, looking at the Pastor with a depth of sadness that made Jim's stomach ache with the emotion Dean wasn't admitting to. He lifted a hand to brush away Dean's bangs, a tenderness the boy rarely saw from his father and he heard the shaky inhalation that showed that Dean needed more of that in his life even as he pulled himself away. Dean turned to climb out of the Impala and Jim moved to give him space, watching as Dean walked round to the trunk to get their bags out. His head was down, shoulders slumped, too much a sign of defeat.

Jim hoped to God that John hadn't taken Dean on another hunt. The last one hadn't gone well, the spirit zoning in on the youthful inexperience of Dean and making him an unexpected target. The boy had done remarkably well, but none of them had failed to notice how it had shaken his self-confidence to the core, how he'd begun to second guess everything he did, unsure of himself in a way he couldn't afford to be. He hadn't been a child in years, he'd lacked confidence in himself before but now it was even worse.

Jim watched as John carried a still slumbering Sammy into the house and up to Jim's guest room. John hadn't even glanced at Dean once, hadn't even given him an instruction, all of which struck Jim as odd. Normally John would have been barking orders at Dean from the moment he'd got back to the car, even when they all knew Dean was more than capable of getting their stuff and organizing both himself and his younger brother. In the time it had taken to drop the boys off and head off again, John had not once looked at or spoken to Dean, not even the usual barked instructions about behaving, listening to Jim, looking after Sammy, nothing. Dean quieter than ever, had stood to the side, not daring to look up from the floor.

Jim had gone downstairs with John leaving the boys inside the room for the moment. He'd tried asking questions on the way but John hadn't given any information beyond needing to get back and finish the job. With that John had left.

Dean hadn't relaxed; he'd remained standing like a silent sentry just inside the guest bedroom. Jim had been down to see John drive away and to lock up behind him and when he returned, nothing in the room had changed. The only sign that Dean was even alive was his breathing and the regular blink of his eyes.

'Dean?'

'Sir?' He didn't look away from watching his brother.

'Come on, get ready for bed. You're exhausted too.' Jim reached over to give Dean a gentle push towards their bags by way of encouragement but also to try and give Dean a little contact, something that might break through his self-imposed isolation.

'No sir.'

Jim was shocked, that was something that he'd never had happen before. 'Dean. You know the rules in my house.' He'd never had to tell Dean off for anything before. Well, not really tell him off, there'd been a few instances of choice language, not really the boy's fault when you heard the mouth on his father, and one or two episodes of what might be referred to as high-jinks or pranks, but those had only occurred during longer stays when the boys had begun to relax. Things that had earned him a telling off but had actually warmed the pastor's heart to see him do things that boys his age should be doing.

'Sorry. I can't.' There was a pain in the answer. Dean was torn, breaking an 'order' from the Pastor was unforgiveable in his own eyes. Jim knew there were few people in Dean's life beyond his father who he respected enough to never want to disobey. He considered himself fortunate to be included in that bunch along with Bobby and Caleb. He knew few of Dean's teachers made the grade, not by their own fault but because John's orders would always supercede theirs, Dean protected himself by 'not caring' about school, because that way it didn't matter when his grades were low or his assignments were poor. Dean couldn't be who he needed to be for his family and at school.

'Can't what Dean? What's the matter?' Jim knew he needed to help Dean reconcile what he thought he needed with reality, to make it so he wasn't failing either John or himself.

'I need to watch Sammy. I didn't watch him close enough before. I was bad.' John's boy was crumbling before his eyes, something Jim had always known was a possibility but had never expected to witness. The fragility in the boy's demeanour was glaring.

'Dean, it's okay. Sammy's fine. You're both okay here.' Jim could see as his reassurance fell short of what was needed.

Dean's eyes suddenly snapped away from Sammy and looked with a fierce intensity into Jim's 'I don't think he'll forgive me for what I did. I don't think… not ever…' the regret and sadness in his voice made Jim's heart ache.

'What happened, Dean? Tell me about it.'

Dean was trembling with the effort to keep himself together. 'Dad told me to look after Sammy and I didn't. I went out and Sammy nearly died and they'll both hate me now. I can't put it right. I don't know how…' the desperation edged his voice.

'Dean, come and sit down by me and we'll talk about it.' He'd gently guided the boy to the other bed and sat him down. 'Take your shoes off and your jacket Dean.' If he could get enough layers off, he might be able to get Dean to relax enough to fall asleep. This needed time to fix, John to back him up that the fault wasn't Dean's.

'I'm not good enough, Pastor Jim. I wanted to be but I'm not…' his eyes had been brimming with tears, tears that still hadn't fallen. 'I'm not good enough, I don't deserve them.'

'Dean, you are good enough, but sometimes the tests God sends will be more than we can manage on our own and sometimes we make the wrong decisions and things go badly but it's what's in here that counts,' he'd pointed at the young boy's heart. 'In your heart is goodness.'

It had been the final straw and the boy's tears began to fall, silently as he'd shaken his head in denial of the last comment. 'Tell me, Dean, about what happened.'

'I left him to go play on a game machine and the thing came to get him. I didn't see it until I got back; it was trying to feed on Sammy. I got the gun that Dad had left ready but then Dad got back and he saved Sammy, like I should have done, like he shouldn't have needed saving. It was my fault. I was being selfish.'

'Where was your Dad?' Jim could have quite happily wrung John's neck for putting his sons through this kind of trial again. Now he was left needing to prove that John was at fault. Who on this earth would leave their sons in an area where something was feeding off children? Hell, the thing, whatever it was neither Dean nor John had said, could have just as easily attacked Dean first and then been free to have Sam as well. Times like this frustrated Jim.

'Hunting. I was supposed to look after Sammy and call you if there was a problem.' It hurt to think that Dean accepted this all so easily, that he didn't see just how wrong it was for his father to leave him in that position.

'Dean, when did your Dad go on the hunt?'

'Monday.'

'So your Dad was gone for three days?' Jim felt the surge of anger that rushed through him. Three days the boys had been vulnerable to attack by something feeding on children! Why the hell couldn't John at the least have called either himself or Caleb to go and stay with the boys? Or have brought them away from the threat? Jim wanted to shake some sense into the man.

'I guess. But I know what to do, I knew what I was supposed to do. I was wrong. I shouldn't have left Sammy. I knew…,' the emotion in his voice was strangled as the child in him warred with the soldier his Dad had tried to make him. His breathing was hitching as the panic that in any other child would have been there earlier was now escaping his control. The boy was finally breaking through the mask of hunter's son and Dean was in danger of hyperventilating.

'Sssh, calm down. Breathe, that's right, in… and out…, in… and out…. Dean. You shouldn't have gone, but it wasn't your fault. What would have been different if you'd been there?'

Dean's voice was wrecked through the hitched breaths and tears that he was trying to control, 'I could have protected Sammy. It's what I'm supposed to do. It's my job, my responsibility.'

'No Dean. It's your father's responsibility to look out for both of you and sometimes he forgets that. '

'But I can do it, I know how, he's my brother,' Dean's voice had been desperate, clinging to the only thing he knew, the only measure of his own worth he was sure of . In the young boy's mind, his life was only valued in relation to how well he cared for his brother.

The Pastor sighed, 'I know you can look after him, Dean. You do look after him really well. Ever since we first met, you've looked out for Sam, more than most boys your age would do for a younger brother. But that's not the point. The point is you shouldn't be looking out for your brother for three days. Your Dad should be looking after you bboth/b and if he can't, then he should be taking you to stay with someone else.'

'We don't need anyone else. I can do it; I need him to know I won't mess it up again. I'm sorry.' The pleading in his words was clear, Jim hated that he thought he had anything like this to plead for.

'When your Dad left this time, did he tell you what he was hunting? Did he tell you how long he'd be gone? Did he tell you to stay in the room and not go out? Dean, have the two of you spent the three days in a motel room again?'

Dean only gave one answer and left Jim to decide which question it was the answer to 'Yes sir.'

'Dean, listen to me. I know you love your brother and I know you love your Dad, but sometimes, it's difficult for him to do the right thing for you and your brother…'

'That's why I should be better. Will you tell him when he gets back, Pastor Jim, please will you tell him, I'm sorry and I'll be better from now on? I won't let anything hurt Sam not ever, I'll always put Sammy first, I promise.'

'It's okay, Dean. Just lie down here,' as the boy scrambled to try and stand up to keep watch on his brother, warring with the exhaustion written in every line on his body, 'Lie down, Dean, just rest for a little while. I'll stay and watch Sammy.'

He had eased the exhausted child down onto the bed and pulled a cover over him, watching as Dean still tried to fight the beckoning sleep. He ran his fingers through his hair as he tried to ease the tension that was stopping Dean finally giving into sleep, 'Sssh. It'll be okay. Just sleep for now, just for a little while.'

Finally, his breathing eased into sleep, although his body was still unnaturally tense. Jim made himself comfortable on the end of the bed, knowing that it was going to take all of his skills to keep Dean resting, even if he wouldn't sleep for long. He resigned himself to a few days of snatched sleep in uncomfortable positions as he kept watch to keep the boys safe, to help Dean deal with the inevitable nightmares and the prolonged feelings of failure that would be even harder to deal with.

Jim prayed that John would see the light and find a way to give the boys the settled home they needed, the attention they both craved and Dean particularly needed. Jim prayed that God would watch over this broken family and bring them some of the love and shelter that they all needed.

Author's Note: Thanks for reading.