Two weeks. It had only been two weeks since he got that frantic call from Adam, the one that sent him flying from the east coast to the tiny town of Windom, Minnesota. He had known instantly when he heard his youngest son's voice that the time had finally come, that something evil had taken its revenge on him and had found the people he'd tried so hard to hide, to protect.
John ran a hand through the scruffy beard that had sprouted on his chin, wishing he hadn't finished off the whiskey in the house last night. He never wanted this for Adam, for Kate. They were innocents, their only crime was knowing him. He kicked himself once again for ever having gotten involved with Kate Milligan. She was a civi, no ties to the wild and weird world that his first love Mary had grown up in. She was such a wonderful and caring woman, in fact that's what had attracted John to her in the first place, when he was laid up in Windom General Hospital and she was making her nursing rounds. She always seemed to look a little more deeply into him, to see past his gruff remarks of "Fine" and "Ready to get outta here," and offer him the soft eyes and gentle support that he hadn't felt in many years. Even after he left the hospital he couldn't resist the soft, sweet call of Kate and her steady knowing looks that entranced him and intrigued him. He made the visit back to Windom more often than he ever should have. He found ways to work jobs that would put him in the area, travel paths that would force him to pass through. Kate was young, not interested in settling down and that suited John just fine. John found excuses to see her for nearly a year before she got pregnant.
The announcement had floored John. She was a nurse so he had assumed that she was taking birth control or something- not that they had ever discussed it. Kate had made it clear from the moment she told John she was pregnant that she didn't expect anything from him. She wanted this baby and it was wholly hers. John wasn't a man to duck and run, he felt obligated to Kate and this new baby, but thoughts of his older two sons, only 4 and 8 at the time, sitting in motel rooms waiting on John's return hardened him to the truth that he wasn't a good father to begin with and certainly wouldn't be in this situation either. They agreed that Kate would raise Adam. That Adam would know of John but only distantly. John made it a point to still come to Windom a few times a year. If he was being honest with himself it wasn't the fatherly obligation to Adam that encouraged John to make the trek, but the siren call of Kate's soft body and sweet words that kept him coming back over the years.
Gritting his teeth to bite back a sob that threaten to blossom in the back of his throat he tried to block the memories that flashed before him of Kate in the crypt, her body mutilated nearly beyond recognition. John was no stranger to loss death seemed to follow him like a shadow, that much he knew. But this one felt different. Different from Mary's death. Mary was his first true love, his soul mate and better half. Her death sparked a hatred and vengeance to rise in John that he had never known was within him. The loss of Kate brought a deep sadness and guilt that made him feel tired down to his bones. If only she had never met John Winchester. If only.
And now she was gone. And if life wasn't already difficult enough, he now had a traumatized 12 year old on his hands. A boy who he barely knew outside of yearly visits and polite talks about school and sports. He also had two older boys, both seething at him for keeping their younger half brother a secret for 12 years. John knew they wouldn't understand, he didn't even bother trying to give an explanation when he told them to haul ass to Windom and introduced them to their brother a week ago.
"Dad?" a voice said from behind him on the front porch. John turned slightly to acknowledge his oldest son Dean, but didn't say anything.
"So...What are we doing here?," Dean asked, trying for force what he hoped was a respectful tone on what he knew to be a disrespectful question.
"What do you mean?" John replied, continuing to stare off into the distance.
"It's just that we've been here for over a week now... I mean is this it? I'm still trying to get on board with the whole "new brother thing"... maybe you could shed some light on the situation?"
John scrubbed a palm over his face and through his hair, causing it to stick up in all different directions.
"I'm trying to take care of things here Dean. The funeral? The house? All of Adam and Kate's belongings? You think I can just pick the kid up, dump him in the Impala and get back to hunting?" John found he had to work to unclench his jaw, "No son, as much as I would like to just get in the car and get back to it, that's not the way it's gonna happen. Adam deserves more than that. He deserved more than this."
Dean was silent, not wanting to push any further and risk making his father angry. He bit the inside of his cheek, stifling himself of the hateful things he wanted to say. Dean couldn't help all the hurt and anger that his father had created since his introduction of Adam. John Winchester had been known to do some shitty things, but this secret was a whole new level.
Without another word, Dean turned and went back into the house leaving John alone with his thoughts again. John was well aware of the turmoil his had created in his little family, he bore the pain of it daily, but he was thankful that Dean wouldn't call him on it.
Author Note: I've got plans for this to be a series of one-shots.