Warning: Contains spoilers for 'In my time of dying', the first episode of the new season.

Authors note: I wrote part of this story weeks ago and set it aside not knowing if they all made it out of the wreck alive or not. I was hoping they all survived the crash and now after reading the spoilers I know that they did. I doubt we will get a long one but I hope we get some sort of scene where John has a long heart to heart with his boys or vice versa. We Fan Girls (and fan boys) need a serious chick flick moment. I think we deserve it.

I know most people don't like to read the spoilers but I'm kinda obsessed with them. It's just that I don't like surprises; I need to be prepared for what ever is gonna happen. I'm weak I'm sorry. Throws myself on the mercy of the fandom.

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Dean was eleven when he was hit by a car. He had just gotten out of school and was talking with a couple other boys, when a car jumped the curb and plowed into them. The drunk driver, who was there to pick up her own child, managed to hit the brakes but not before she hit the three boys standing on the sidewalk. Dean's friend, Stevie Carlson, instantly was rolled over and ended up under the car. His other friend, Greg Meers, was flipped up onto the hood hitting the windshield with a vicious thud. Dean himself was thrown about 15 feet before he landed in the grass in a bloodied heap.

John was between hunts and had taken a job on a local construction site. He knew something was wrong when his site boss called him into the trailer. He looked at his watch and saw that it was 3:50 in the afternoon. He knew his boys should have been home by now. They knew to go over to Mrs. Dixon's next door if they needed anything before John got home at night so what could be so wrong that his boss was standing there with a troubled look on his face.

John went flying out to the car and raced over to the school the minute he heard the word 'accident' out of his boss's mouth. An ambulance was just leaving as he slammed the brakes on the car and ran up to the accident site. He couldn't believe it. John stood stunned at the site of blood on the sidewalk, the smashed windshield, and the blood on the grass. As he moved closer an officer asked him to step back. John heard his words but they sounded like they were under water.

"My son….." John managed to get out. The cop looked at him sympathetically.

"What's your sons name sir?" he asked pulling out a small notebook.

"Dean." John kept staring at the carnage. Images of his son trapped under the car raced through his head. At this point he didn't know who had been where. The cop consulted with another officer and then walked back to John. "Sir you son is on his way to Sisters of Mercy."

John heard him but was too stunned to react until he heard Sammy calling for him behind him.

"Daddy! Daddy!" Sammy cried out as he ran from his 2nd grade teacher's side and jumped into his father's arms. John held Sammy tight to him and spun him away from the accident site so he wouldn't have to see all the blood. As he carried him back to the car Sammy began sobbing on his shoulder.

"Daddy Dean's hurt. They took him away in an ambulance." His little voice shook. John tried to keep his own voice from shaking.

"He'll be okay son; we're gonna go see him at the hospital."

An hour later they sat in the waiting room with the other boy's parents. John glanced at them sadly but didn't try to talk to either pair, already lost in their own worry and fears. At some point he saw a Doctor walk in and start talking to Stevie Carlson's folks. His mother started to sob and clutched her husband as the Doctor told them 'We did all we could, but I'm sorry your son didn't survive.' They quickly left and fear permeated the waiting area as John and Greg Meers's parents paced the room waiting for their news. Greg's Doctor arrived, told his parents their son was alive, and had just been taken up to surgery. Grateful that their son was alive they followed the doctor out to the hallway get further news on his condition. Now John was alone with Sammy and their wait torturously continued.

At some point he went to the payphone, called Mrs. Dixon, and asked her to pick Sammy up. John didn't want him to be here if the news was going to be bad. He looked over and saw that Sammy had fallen asleep in one of the plastic waiting room chairs, exhausted from the day's trauma. The neighbor graciously agreed to come and get Sammy and soon arrived. She promised John that Sammy could stay at her place as long as necessary, knowing he might be waiting a long time for news, good or bad. John was grateful to have a decent neighbor next door to their current rental house. Mrs. Dixon was a widow whose children were long grown and gone from the home. The boys took an instant liking to her and spent long hours helping her around her house and yard. In lieu of monetary payment for their services she paid them with homemade cookies and brownies instead. A Kings salary when you are 7 and 11.

Finally after what seemed a lifetime, Dean's Doctor arrived to tell John about his condition. Dean's condition was stabilized now. His left leg was fractured in two places as well as his left wrist. Along with several broken ribs, the Doctor explained he also had a mild concussion. John followed the nurse down to Dean's room and was alternately relieved and terrified to see his son lying in the bed. His arm and leg propped up on pillows. His face cut and bruised from where he hit the ground. John's heart raced a mile a minute as he peered inside the room. It was all he could do not to run up to the bed and scoop up his son, to feel his heart beating close to his own, to be reassured his son was still alive.

Never had John felt so much fear before. Sure the boys had been scraped up a time or two on the few hunts he had taken them on. Sammy was really still too young to go along too often, but Dean, he was turning into quite the hunter. Always willing to go on what ever hunt John came up with. Despite the inherent danger though, John never put his children in harms way if he could avoid it and the hunts he went on stayed relatively simple while his children were around. No, this was the first time he felt paralyzing fear at the thought that his son could have died.

Of all the terrors he had seen. Of all the dark creatures of the night he had hunted. None of them more terrifying then the mother who had had too many Martinis' with the girls at lunch and decided she could still drive to school to pick up her kid. All the things that John had taught the boys on how to protect themselves and here comes something he had no way of shielding them from.

He thanked who ever was listening that he wasn't Stevie Carlson's Dad.

Now years later, John suddenly found himself experiencing that old feeling of dread once again and this time it was so much worse. This time he had only himself to blame. He sat in his wheelchair and listened as the machines keeping Dean alive beeped and whistled. Various fluids dripped into his body, oxygen pumped into his lungs. The bandages on Dean's chest seeped blood belaying the severity of the wounds underneath. Wounds that John himself had inflicted.

John cursed his weakness at allowing the demon to possess him and harm his oldest son. He cursed the feeling of helplessness watching his son lay in a hospital bed just as he did so many years ago. As he sat there he felt the anger at himself turning slowly towards his youngest son for allowing the demon the opportunity to escape. Sam had the chance, the chance to end a lifetime of pain. A chance at vengeance for Mary and Jess. Just once John hoped Sam would have listened to him but instead he chose to listen to Dean. John didn't care what Dean said, he just wanted it to end. All the pain, all the suffering, all the loss. The end justified the means at least in John's book, and if that meant he died and took that bastard with him, then that's what had to happen. It never occurred to him that his death might have created a whole new pain for his boys.

Still angry he took another look at his oldest son. Feelings of vengeance strongly persisted as he watched Dean struggle to breathe.

"We're gonna get that son of a bitch I promise you Dean." he whispered before turning the wheelchair around and heading back to his own room.

Hours later, Sam slowly walked for the first time to his father's room. His own injuries far less severe than the rest of his family's. The bumps and bruises would heal soon enough as well as his left wrist that currently sported a cast. He stood outside the room contemplating what he would say to his father, his emotions in total disarray. Anger, fear, guilt, relief, Sam was feeling them all and all at once.

John was awake looking off in the distance as Sam looked into his room. He tried to read his fathers face to gage the reaction he would get as he entered without knocking. The minute John spotted Sam he immediately got angry.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he asked glaring at Sam. Sam immediately felt his own anger rise.

"I came to see how the hell you were doing Dad, what did you expect?" He answered back tersely.

"So now you play the dutiful son. Why couldn't you do that back on the cabin when I told you to kill the demon? This could have all been over but no….you blew it and now it's too late." John icily spoke as he continued to glare at Sam. Sam glared right back at his father.

"You don't get it Dad, you just don't get it." Sam yelled getting exasperated.

"Get what son? We finally had it. We finally were going to get our revenge and you failed Sammy. You really let this family down." John looked away as he spoke. They had been so close. So close it was eating him up. After a couple of moments he spoke again, his voice shaking.

"How's Dean? Has there been any change in his condition?" he asked still not looking at his youngest son. Sam's anger finally exploded.

"How's Dean? You don't get to ask about Dean. Dean's almost dead because of you, you son of a bitch. You don't give a damn about Dean. If you did you never would have asked me to do what you did in front of him. How could you ask me to shoot you? Don't you know what that would have done to Dean? What that would have done to me knowing I killed my own father? No Dad you don't get to ask about Dean. You don't deserve to know how he is." Sam was almost breathless when he finished yelling at his father. John lay back in his bed astonished at his youngest son's tirade. He was about to reply when Sam cut him off.

"Dad we know you were possessed. I know Dean doesn't blame you for hurting him but….Jesus Dad. It's like you only cared about killing this damn demon and it didn't matter that Dean was laying on the floor bleeding to death as long as you got your revenge. At what cost Dad? At the cost of your life, Dean's life, my life Dad. What the hell? I don't care that the demon got away Dad. The only thing that matters to me, that matters to Dean, is that you are still alive. Revenge is not worth it if you die because of it Dad. Dean made me understand that and now I need to make you understand. "

"Sammy….." John's voice was barely a whisper as Sam's words began to strike home.

"I know you don't think I give a damn about this family, but I do Dad. And I know you think I let you down but I couldn't do it Dad, not if it meant losing you. I would have ended up alone, because if I had shot you, I would have killed Dean as well. Hell, he still might end up dead." Sam looked away as tears welled up in his eyes.

"All he's ever wanted was his family back. Us Dad, you, me, and him. Don't you see we can't let him down now, we owe it to him? You owe it to him."

"Are you through yet?" John asked as Sam finally got quiet. Sam slowly nodded to him. They sat there in silence, torrents of emotions washing over them. Part of John understood what Sam was telling him. He wanted to understand that he meant more to them than catching the demon that killed their mother, he was just having a hard time accepting it. He just couldn't give up, not now, not when they were so close. If he did it would be like admitting he had wasted over 20 years of his life and irrevocably harmed his sons for nothing. No there had to be a reason, there had to be a justification. Then he finally understood what Sam was saying to him. Family was more important than vengeance. He nodded to himself as it sunk in. Now all he had to do was prove it to his boys.

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Authors note: Once again leaves a plate of cookies for the reviewers and thanks for reading even if you don't leave a review.