This idea of Adam's backstory came to me a while back, and I've been wrestling with it. My muse is very finicky, evidently. I want to thank Chrissie0707, CornishGirl, and Nova42 for encouraging me (and to quit throwing out stuff). I've planned a huge undertaking, and didn't want to post until I had more chapters written, but I wanted to give a Christmas gift to myself and post the first brick on my path. Merry Christmas! (unbeta'ed, all mistakes are mine)

Adam's Story

Prologue

Christmas 1989 - Georgia

John had been let go from the store right after Christmas Eve; no need to keep a stock boy when the shopping rush was over. Surprisingly, Christmas had been spent together with just the three of them. It felt that the boys were happier he was with them than the few things – new pants, socks, crayons for Sam; new jacket and army men for Dean - he bought with credit card fraud. Yet, always, there was that constant itch to get back to hunting.

It was thankfully only a couple of days later when he found a possible hunt with corpses missing that was less than 60 miles away from Pastor Jim's, and it would be a treat for the boys to stay with Jim after being on their own in the motel for the last two hunts. They packed up that day and left.

late December 1990 - Headed to Minnesota

John had called Jim from a payphone several hours previously when he stopped to pump gas, finalizing details on their arrival. Five year old Sammy had started to whine when John turned down the street towards the rectory. The boy had recognized the area, knowing they were going to be dropped off and not wanting his daddy to leave him, even with Pastor Jim. John knew the sounds only too well by now, but there was nothing to be done for it. Thankfully, nine year old Dean kept his trap shut. John drove into the driveway late afternoon, pulling up to the rectory before turning off the low rumbling engine. It was no surprise when Jim stepped out to wave at the Winchesters. John threw his arm over the seat back, turning around to look at his boys.

"You both be good for Pastor Jim, you hear?"

"But Dad!" Dean burst out. He finally couldn't stand it any longer. "Why can't I come too?"

John wanted to train both boys right, and this was a good foundation to give Dean the hunger for the hunt. He planned on feeding that hunger, on easy hunts at first. Dean had already started helping out on hunts, mainly covering his Dad's six, but also as researcher. The boy just couldn't keep his attention on it for long. John only hoped Dean would grow into it. However, this hunt would be with a lot of decaying corpses. Not that putrid flesh wasn't part of the job, but he would prefer Dean to be a little older before being really exposed to it.

"Not this time, kiddo."

Seeing the crestfallen boy's face, he relented. "Maybe next time, Dean."

Sammy skootched forward on the leather seat until he could wrap his small arms as far as he could around John's neck.

"I miss ya."

His voice muffled against John's shoulder, as he dropped his head on his Daddy. John reached over with his free left hand and ruffled the hair on his youngest. It was a bit longer than he liked. Sometime soon he needed to cut Sam's hair, but not now. Now he needed to drop the boys off and get moving to this hunt.

"I know Sammy. Be back before you know it."

Pulling away from Sam, John opened the squeaky door and stepped out to greet the preacher, who had walked down the front path and had stopped to wait by the side of the car. Grasping Jim's hand firmly, "Thanks for taking the boys. I don't anticipate longer than a week."

He refrained from explaining his theory he'd put together for this hunt, and Jim didn't ask. Jim knew John was rather taciturn when it came to hunts, for which John was glad. Didn't need to explain everything to everybody. Also, John didn't need to inform his youngest of the many and varied monsters in the dark, not just yet, and Sammy was smart as a whip in picking up things in conversations.

Jim nodded. "You know it's no imposition. I'm here for them."

Dean took his time climbing out of the car, as if he could hold onto staying near Dad for just a few seconds longer by being in the car. John knew his eldest had started doing that, but the boy was quick to follow orders in every other way so John didn't call him on it. He headed for the trunk, to grab the duffel bags that held each boy's wardrobe. Dean appeared soon after the lid was popped, knowing the routine. John grabbed Sam's, handing Dean's bag to the boy, and slammed the trunk closed.

Jim had meanwhile opened the back door and leaned into the back seat, helping Sam collect the toys the boys had spread over the back seat playing while John had been driving. Sam had papers and crayons; Dean had his new army men. Also scattered across the seat were the legos from earlier in the day. It drove John crazy when one of the toys came up under his feet while driving, and he would yell at the boys to keep everything in the back seat. Sometimes boys just needed to play, and when he could, John let them. It just didn't happen very often.

Thankfully Jim was very thorough in helping Sam clean up the car with all of the boy's things, and the two of them climbed out. Sam held onto the strap of the toy bag, knowing it was his job to carry that particular bag. John placed Sam's clothes bag on top of the Impala and squatted down to give his youngest a tight hug. Sam threw himself into his Dad's arms and held tightly.

"Don' go." Sam's muffled plaintive voice rose from John's neck area.

John ruffled Sam's shaggy hair for the last time. "I haveta, Sammy. You know that. This is my job."

He disentangled Sam's skinny long arms from around his neck, before turning around to Dean.

Dean had been feeling he was too old for the snuggles for the last few months, so John didn't even try. He placed his hand on Dean's shoulder and looked him in the eye, waiting.

"Watch out for Sammy." It was their mantra, the rules that John insisted his eldest learn and there was no reason not to go over it with Dean once more. John smiled at Dean's prompt recitation. The other rules were only when it was just the two of them in a motel, but here at Pastor Jim's there was no need to repeat them.

"That's my man." John reached out and grabbed Dean for a briefest of moments, patting him twice on the back. More of a manly slap on the back than the baby hugs his younger brother still demanded, and Dean smiled slightly at his father.

John stood up on creaky legs, nodding at his friend before handing over Sam's duffel bag to him. Sliding behind the wheel, he glanced over to make sure Sam was safely out of the way with Dean. Adrenaline had started pumping – the hunt had started. He turned on the engine, listening to her purr, before he backed out of the driveway, aiming back towards Route 71.

John glanced in the rearview mirror, seeing Dean trying to distract Sammy, who was giving a patented Sammy-face to the back of the Impala. If that kid turned that face on strangers, invariably they would jump to whatever he wanted. However, John knew they'd be safe at Pastor Jim's, so he hardened himself against the silent pleadings from his boys. A pang went through him as he settled deeper into the car seat, facing forward once more. He missed his boys fiercely, especially right after saying goodbye. But what else could he do, for there was a hunt in nearby Windom – less than an hour going by Route 71 and Interstate 90 – and he was determined to kill whatever the evil supernatural thing was. He felt a small surge of satisfaction. One more evil monster to get rid of. Soon, perhaps, he would be able to kill the thing that sliced and burned his Mary. He pressed the gas pedal down.

Please post a review.