The night his father didn't come home, John heard for the first time the little voice inside.
"You are strong."
He didn't know where the words came from, but he believed they were true. He had to believe. Not believing would mean that he was weak, that he was a burden for his mother. And he could see how sad Mom was.
He was only four, and he accepted the little voice as a part of him.
John and his mother went to church every Sunday. John said his prayers every night. Mom talked to him about things he sometimes didn't understand. The little voice inside sounded a little like Mom's. Mom told him the angels would always watch over him. It made him feel a little less alone. A little less abandoned.
Sometimes, when it was getting really hard, when he felt like crying, the voice spoke to him, in a tone that was both soothing him and giving him strength.
"You don't have to be sad. Father had to go away, but Mom needs you. You are strong."
He believed. John was not raised on hope. He was raised on faith. In the years to come, the voice would be with him at the worst of times. Always giving him strength. Never hope. The little voice never said "let's hope that will happen or that won't happen". The voice always said "you are strong. You are going to get through this."
He spent his childhood on the threshold of poverty. He saw his mother unable to love again, unable to make a new life for herself. His mother firmly believed that something bad had happened to his father. Never did she say anything bad about Henry Winchester, never blamed him for the hardships they endured. The love between them had been so strong, that his mother was certain that something bad had happened to Henry. John was raised with the belief that his father was a good man who would never abandon his family of his own volition.
When he was 10, his grandparents paid them a visit. They looked rich. They offered him the chance of an easy life. With them. Away from his mother. The only reason John hesitated before he refused was to consider if his mother was better off without him.
"Your mother loves you." said the voice.
It was true. His mother would stand being without him for his own good. But loving him also meant that look of happiness on her face when she came home from work, bone tired, but happy to see him, to hug him, to ask him about school. John refused the easy path.
"You are a good son," the voice said when he was alone in his room that night.
The teenage years passed fast. He went to school, but after school he hung around the garage, learned about engines, and soon was getting paid for helping. He started by sweeping the floor and washing the cars. But he learned. Learned how engines worked. Learned about being a man from men who were not his father.