The weekend was set. Two days off, on threat of death if they called him in. A sitter was arranged for the boys. The room was paid for, the room service ordered. The hotel was only two hours from Lawrence, but it was a lifetime away from the worries of home. Mary didn't have a clue, he'd been careful. He's saved the money from tips in garage, a little at a time so not to hurt the family. Today marked six months since Sammy was born. Six months of Mary being full time mom to two rambunctious boys. Six months of Mary fighting to make a home for four on his mechanic's wages. Six months of Mary and him lost among the mundane details of everyday life. That would change this weekend. This weekend it would be Mary and him. Alone. The lovers they'd been before the boys. The friends they'd been before they had to be parents and providers. A weekend of passion, comfort and love.
John settled into his comfortable armchair and ignored the TV. He drifted to sleep knowing he could make things perfect again. He just needed the weekend.
John stared at the two brightly wrapped Christmas gifts in the car. Wedged next to it, securely held in an old money clip was $47, enough for a proper Christmas meal for him and the boys. He'd planned for this night for months. If he left now, he'd be at the hotel long before midnight. He ached to spend Christmas with his boys. To see Sammy waking up Christmas morning and to watch him open his gift. To see Dean being just a kid instead of the protector he was forced to be. To be able to honor Mary's memory by being a family, a breal/b family, just once, just for this one Christmas day. All he'd have to do is leave. Leave right now.
A shriek rent the air. A low guttural snarl followed. Somewhere, in the background, children screamed for their parents to save them. Parents who didn't have a clue how to do that. Parents who could already be dead. John reached past the gifts and snagged the boxes of consecrated iron rounds for his shotgun. He slammed the trunk shut and sprinted toward the old farmhouse. Leaving the gifts and the promise of Christmas with his boys to help save a family whose name he didn't even know.
"You saved us. Anything you want, it's yours." It wasn't often John heard those words, even less often they were said by someone who could really offer them almost anything. "I could set you up here. You and your boys. A job if you want it, whenever you can work it. A house for your family. Just name it. Anything." Sincere words from a man who'd just learned that money couldn't stop evil from taking his family. Only John could do that.
John stared into his cup of coffee and considered the offer. A job, a house, a steady school. Dean was going to be in high school next year, it could be John's last chance at convincing him that school was important. And Sammy… maybe Sammy would fight him over the normal things kids fought their parents about - curfews and dating instead of keeping secrets and skipping weapons training. Here was his chance, his chance to give them a real home. A home that Dean yearned for in a way that John didn't understand but could see in his eyes every day. A home that would give Sammy the opportunity to thrive and grow to be the amazing person who lurked behind the eyes of a child. It could work.
Until the thing he was chasing turned around and saw John wasn't there. Until they sat in one spot long enough to give it a way to get to Sammy. To finish whatever it was that evil son-of-a-bitch had planned for his boy. If they stayed, it would be like painting a bull's-eye on his family. Hell, it'd be like painting a bull's-eye on this whole damn town. No. It wasn't safe. They had to keep moving. A job, a house, a steady school - they couldn't keep his boys safe. Only John could do that.
A soft night breeze blew through the Stanford Campus. Laughter and conversations rang through the cool October air. John stood in the shadows and watched as a group of students walked out of the library, pausing at the edge of the park to say their goodbyes. Sammy stood a good head taller than anyone else. He smiled and laughed, his arm around a beautiful girl who clearly loved him back. John had a million different approaches planned out. A thousand different things to say to fix this thing between him and his son. A hundred ways to tell him how proud he was of him, of the life he'd built, of the friends he had. A dozen different openings to show how much he missed his son. All he had to do was take this one chance.
Instead he fished his keys out of his pocket and headed back to his truck. Sammy had been safe here for more than three years already. Maybe he'd been wrong thinking he needed to keep the boys moving. Maybe it hadn't been Sammy who'd drawn the demon's eye all those years, but rather John himself. He'd followed that evil bastard for so long, pushed him so hard, he may have drawn the attention to himself and away from Sammy. He was close, now. Closer to ending this than he'd even been before. Once this was finished, he'd come back and work it out with Sammy. He'd work it out with both his boys.
He climbed into his truck, the candle-lit eyes of a porch full of jack-o-lanterns watching him. It wouldn't be long now. Then he'd make things right. He just needed a little more time.