Disclaimer: The Winchesters and Supernatural do not belong to me. They belong to the WB and CW. If however they would like to loan me John, I'm game. Also, will use several song lyrics, none of them belong to me either.

Please be advised this is my first attempt at fan fiction, all reviews welcome.

Lyrics to Carry On Wayward Son

Carry on my wayward son. For there'll be peace when you are done. Lay your weary head to rest. Now don't you cry no more.

Once I rose above the noise and confusion. Just to get a glimpse beyond the illusion. I was soaring ever higher, but I flew too high. Though my eyes could see I still was a blind man. Though my mind could think I still was a mad man. I hear the voices when I'm dreamin', I can hear them say

Carry on my wayward son. For there'll be peace when you are done. Lay your weary head to rest. Now don't you cry no more.

Masquerading as a man with a reason. My charade is the event of the season. And if I claim to be a wise man, it surely means that I don't know. On a stormy sea of moving emotion, tossed about I'm like a ship on the ocean I set a course for winds of fortune, but I hear the voices say.

Carry on, you will always remember. Carry on, nothing equals the splendor. Now your life's no longer empty. Surely heaven waits for you.

Carry on my wayward son. For there'll be peace when you are done. Lay your weary head to rest. Now don't you cry no more.

January 24, 1979Lawrence, Kansas

"Holy Hell, Mary. Look at him, just look at him," uttered an emotionally spent John Winchester. A man who up until this point never wanted to be a father. He remembered well the day his beautiful Mary had told him they were expecting. The young husband dropped the coffee cup in his hand and walked out. John left his wife whom he loved more than anything for a week. She told him later she cried herself to sleep every night he was gone. How was she to sleep without him? A child, what was he going to do with a child? John was so afraid he was going to turn out like his bastard father. Good start, walking out on the love of your life when she tells you; you are going to have a baby.

May 1972Centropolis, Kansas

John enlisted in the United States Marine Corps at 16, just out of high school. He faked the paperwork to say he was 17. They didn't look too close. It was a time of war, well conflict. John had wanted to enlist. He didn't need to be drafted. His mother Rose drove him into Topeka to meet with a recruiter, she signed the release form with a shaking hand not too many hours later.

Jonathon Dean Winchester shipped out to basic training before his father was back from whatever road trip Contel Telephone had sent him on this time. "Johnny, you come home to me." Rose Catherine Winchester said tears shining in her old eyes. Rose grabbed her son's hand "and you come home to Mary. Promise me." "I promise mom. I promise." Jonathon Dean Winchester had not broken that promise.

Mary Sophia Molson was John's best friend. Since diapers, truth be told, probably longer than that. Their mothers had meet in high school becoming fast friends. They had both married the week school let out. Mary's mother, Nina had been lucky in her choice of husbands. Christopher Samuel Molson was a great man. One John loved dearly. His mother Rose had not been so fortunate. Jasper Jonathon Winchester was a hard man, ruled by an iron fist. Beat both his wife and son, unmercifully.

Many a night Mr. Molson had provided him shelter and comfort. Mary would clean and patch him up. His back was riddled with scars, so was his face if you looked closely. John didn't even want to think about his bum, he was sure it had matching white lines as well. Mr. Molson would see to it John was out of the house as much as possible. Christopher Molson had been a prince among men. It had been Mr. Molson who taught John humility and compassion. "You have to look past the pain and find the soul," said the weathered old man, many a time. It was only years after he had passed John realized that Mr. Molson had been talking about John.

September, 1973Marine Corps Base Hill 55, Vietnam

When Christopher's time was coming he talked with surrogate son. Well, telegrammed and spoken with the Red Cross. The jungles of Vietnam didn't exactly have phones and cell phones hadn't been patented yet. Private First Class John Winchester shipped out to Vietnam 10 days after finishing his Explosive Ordinance Disposal and Jungle Mountain Warfare Training at Marine Corps Base Camp Pendleton. It was the Winter of 1972; the Corps originally wanted him grunting through the backwaters.

That was until they learned of his knowledge of explosives. It seems the United States Marine Corps had a special place for people with John's particular talent. 1st Combat Engineering Battalion with the 1st Marine Corps Division the oldest most decorated Division of the Corps, based at Marine Corps Base Camp Pendleton. John always loved being a farm boy from Kansas, but there was something to be said about looking over a hill and seeing nothing but miles of blue ocean in front of you. Instead of humping through tangled trees and burned out villages, John was setting explosives and disarming mines.

John's Commanding Officer pulled him aside and handed him the yellow paper, sad understanding smile in his eyes. With shaking hands John remembered opening the telegram. At first he hadn't read it, just looked to see who sent it. Sender: Christopher Molson stared at him. Swallowing convulsively, he read the Western Union. Angels in heaven please don't let it be Mary.

As it turns out it wasn't Mary, but Mr. Molson. He had a rare form of cancer, in the abdomen. Doctors gave him, a month at best. John. Am dying. Stomach Cancer. Need you home. Marry Mary. Love You. Christopher. John ran a hand over his high and tight. His unit had been at the base, as luck would have it.

"Permission to phone the states, sir?" An emotional eighteen year old Sergeant asked his Commanding Officer. In peacetime John would have just reached the rank of Lance Corporal. However, this wasn't peacetime. In times of war, those who live and keep their fellow Devil Dogs alive get promoted. The newly chevroned Sergeant Winchester was trying to maintain his level head. The Commanding Officer had known what was in the yellow folded paper and was kind. "Permission Granted Sergeant, Peace be with you son." The ringing had gone on forever. Three rings, he remembered those being the longest three rings of his life.

"Hello," uttered an exhausted sounding Christopher Molson. "Mr. Molson its John." The young man who sat in a small hot country so far away croaked. "Son, you received my message?" Asked the dying old man sitting on the linoleum kitchen floor at home in Centropolis, Kansas. "John you need to take leave. Please, son I am dying. Have to know both you and Mary are taken care of. Please come home." John could hear the exhausted determination in Mr. Molson's voice. "Want to leave you and Mary the farm. Have people lined up to buy it. Once you marry my girl, you two will be taken care of." John knew his face was red and his eyes were puffy. "Mr. Molson, when did you find out?" His surrogate father replied, "last week."

"Marry Mary?" John asked. The two men who had shared so much laughed. It did sounds kind of funny. "Sir, I am only 18 and Mary is still 17." John said not that he wouldn't marry her. Mary was the love of his life. There would never be another woman for him. "Already talked with Johnson Ames down at the courthouse in Lawrence, if I sign the release form, it can be done." "Does she know?" John asked, already thinking about how to get her ring from its hiding place, a set of wedding bands and for that matter how to get home.

"My girl knows I am dying. She doesn't know I am talking with you. Mary loves you sure as the sun rises and sets son. She would marry you today, next Tuesday or 10 years from now. Whenever you got round to asking." Mr. Molson informed a young man whom he only thought of as his son. Never a day went by when he didn't think of John. Christopher always liked to think it was because of his love and settling hand that John learned to calm some of the rage and pain inside. "Yes sir I know." John agreed. "Will talk with my superiors to see how I can click my heels and return to Kansas." "Thank you son. I love you." "I love you to sir, I love you too."

5 days later John Dean Winchester returned home to Centropolis, Kansas. His heart heavy, he was coming to marry a woman he loved and bury the only man he thought of as a father. Somehow, thank the Angels Jasper Winchester was out of town. His mother told him his fucking father had been out hunting, which meant drinking with the boys. By the time John arrived in Centropolis his mother had helped Mary hem her mothers wedding gown. Mr. Molson had purchased them wedding bands as a gift. John only had to figure out how to get to his hiding place and retrieve the ring. There had never been a question in his mind that Mary was the one.

John found the ring in the Carter Family Antique Shop last year. He had been running an errand for his mother. Lorna Carter ran the Antique shop after her father passed and came up with the brilliant idea of Ten Cent Tuesday. Anything in the bins in back were ten cents, Rose Winchester made many a magnificent quilt and loved the scraps in the dime bins.

While John had been waiting in line behind a bunch a of cackling old hens his spotted this ring. Ms. Carter let him pay it off, bit by bit at a time, never saying a word. John payed off the last of it just before he left to become a Hollywood Marine, Marines who went through boot camp at Marine Corps Recruit Depot San Diego were known as Hollywood Marines because the base was located in Southern California.

Mary Sophia Molson became Mary Sophia Winchester early in the morning on September 21, 1973. The Douglas County Courthouse in Lawrence Kansas with its clock tower and church like spires was the location of their vows. Mr. Molson's friend Judge Ames married the young couple at 8:00am. Mrs. Winchester stood up for Mary. Mr. Molson stood up for John. The four were back on the road home at 9:00am. They buried Mr. Molson four days later.

John returned to the war a little less than a month later. His wedding band shining on his hand like a beacon, a homing beacon. Since the day Mary placed it on his hand it had not left. One day God willing this conflict would end and John could spend the rest of his days with his best friend. Until then John had to be content with the millions of letters they wrote back and fourth.

Mary stayed at her father's farm until John's next furlough. When he returned to Kansas on leave the couple sold the Molson Farm to Christopher's good friend Jacob Tunney. After the sale was complete they returned to Lawrence, buying what would be their home until the fire took Mary. Lawrence was still close enough that John could drive down to Centropolis to see his mother. Far enough away his father did not want to make the trip.

May 12, 1978Lawrence, Kansas

The morning of May 12, 1978 Mary came to him tears in her eyes. "Johnny." Mary only used Johnny on special occasions. Judging by the tears this was not one of those lets use the kitchen counter for fun times. "Sweetheart, what is wrong?" His wife's response was to clasp her small arms around his waist and hug him till he thought their bodies had become one in the same. Then out of nowhere Mary reached up and kissed him. It reminded him of the kiss at the Greyhound Station before he shipped out.

The night before they had done more than kissing. He laughed when she told him she wanted to give him a kiss to remember. "Sweetheart you gave me a whole lot more to remember last night, the feel of your…" That had been when she had silenced him with the kiss that he had remembered. This one could rival that one. Something was defiantly wrong.

"Marzipan?" She ignored him. John's pet name for Mary was marzipan, because she was his sweet Mary. At the current time she was his stressed out Mary, still using their special name was worth a shot. "John I am going out. Will you be home early today?" John studied his wife. "I'll be home by 5pm sweetheart. Will that work or do you need me home earlier?" Watching her for a sign or clue. "Okay 5pm." John watched his best friend and lover walk out of the house. What had made his beautiful Mary so upset? To be on the safe side, John arrived home at 4pm. Cooked dinner and set the table nice, flowers and candles.

Mary walked in the house quiet as quiet could be. John saw her face was red and blotchy. Had she been crying all day? "Mary, sweetheart, you have to tell me what is wrong so I can fix it." Watery hazel eyes looked at him. Was that fear? Never in their lives had Mary ever been afraid of him. Dear sweet angels what had happened. John didn't have to wait to find out. "John, I am pregnant." He remembered looking at her, Mary his helpmate, true love and best friend. He remembered the sound of the coffee mug shattering against the new floor he had installed the week before, though not that actual falling of the newly filled mug.

Then he just walked out. No response, no call, no nothing. John stayed by the back door and listened to her cry her heart out. Then he just turned and walked away. It was a full week. Seven days before he returned. John's mother Rose tracked him down, switch in hand. His mother, who had never raised a hand to him, threatened to beat him worse than his father ever did. "Jonathon Dean Winchester, you have never in your life run from anything. Not even when I begged you. Yet you have run from your best friend and wife. You get your ass home before I draw blood." Angels in heaven what had he done…

January 24, 1979Lawrence, Kansas

"John? John! Bellowed an exhausted Mary Winchester. Oh shit he was on a one-way trip to memory lane and hells bells. "Sweetheart, I am sorry." She raised an all-knowing eyebrow. "A son, we have a son. What do we call him?" Mary watched the emotions skirt across her husbands face. When they stopped on wonder and peace she knew all would okay. "What do you think of Dean?" The young father turned to his wife, tears shinning bright in his eyes. "Oh Mary. Dean Christopher Winchester." The couple shared a look, both thought of her father. The new mother smiled indulgently at her husband. "Do you think we can get to a hospital now?"

John looked at his family and smiled, "Of course sweetheart." He started the truck and pulled back onto the road that would lead them to Lawrence Memorial Hospital. Mary looked at her son then her husband. John recognized the twinkle in his wife's eye. "John do you realize the song that was playing when Dean came to join us?" John cast a blank look at his wife. He remembered she was screaming in pain, a baby was dropping into his arms, there had been music playing?

"Carry on Wayward Son." Mary said with a smile, a kind of smile that lead to them having Dean in the first place. John laughed, "Our son's a romantic." Carry on Wayward Son had been playing the night they conceived little Dean. Both parents remembered that night. The old barn, the spring storm raging and good old Kansas playing in the background.

Turns out Dean Christopher Winchester never did things the easy way. Ever.