Breaking the Silence, a supernatural fanfic

Breaking the Silence

Author: Lady Sam Mallory

Disclaimers: Boys not mine; I just borrow them from time to time when the muse moves me.

Special Thanks to: My exceptional Beta Queen, Zoe, without whom I'd be doomed to a life of grammatical inaccuracy. You are truly my Conductor of Light. Thank you for over 30 years of friendship and fandoms.

For my beautiful friend, Heather, whose incredible command of the English language allows her to provide me with individually needed words at a moment's notice.

Warnings: H/C, Angst, Smarm, Some violence and usually a bit of colorful language.

Spoilers: Depends on how you look at it.

Author's Comments: This story picks up where Surviving the Fire left off. It is not necessary to read the first one, but it would provide additional context to make the journey more enjoyable. This story takes place shortly after Mary's death, while John is still trying to get his feet under him.

Dean is quiet and still today. It worries me on a level I can hardly express. He's always been such an active boy, so this stillness disturbs me. I know he misses you. A boy needs his mother, and I'm at a loss as to how to help him.

Given what I've learned, even in such a short time, I am humbled by his strength of spirit. He only four years old, and he protects his brother with a ferocity that constantly amazes me.

A few days ago, I had the boys in a cart at the Piggly Wiggly. I had turned away to grab some more formula, when a woman stopped to talk them. Dean wrapped his arms around baby Sam and turned away, soothing Sammy the entire time, telling him he would keep him safe. Dean was so rattled and upset that I barked at her to step back from my boys.

She drew back at the roughness and anger in my voice and then looked at Dean. Upon seeing his distress, she shook her head mumbling about my rude behavior and walked away.

I know I should have told her that you were...de…gone, but I just couldn't. I hate how people look at me and the boys when they find out. I know I shouldn't care about it, but it bothers me...a lot.

Another woman overheard the exchange and laid a hand on my arm. I flinched at the contact, but she didn't notice. She told me she thought it was sweet how protective he was of his baby brother.

That's one word, but really all I could think was how necessary that protection would be until I took care of the problem.

Sammy's still so little, and it would kill me if something happened to him, Mary. It would just kill me.

We continued wending our way through the store with Dean pointing out things along the way. You'd be so proud of him, Mary. Kid's got a memory like an elephant. He never forgets. He remembered the brand of peanut butter that you always buy and was quick to point to several other items he somehow knew we'd needed.

It's been a struggle, trying to keep things together, but I promised you, and I will always remember to keep my word, Mary.

Feeding Sammy has been a bit of a problem. He didn't take to the formula as quickly as I'd hoped, and it took a bit to find one his stomach could tolerate. At least he's not vomiting all over the place like he was a month ago.

That scared the hell out me, Mary. Shook Dean up pretty good too. He watched his brother like a hawk after that. The doctors never did find anything physically wrong with him. They just figured it was a combination of smoke inhalation and the stress of the situation.

The situation. That's what they called it. My life has fallen apart around me and it's a situation.

I need all the support I can get here, Mary. Got to get out of the store before Sammy starts fussing for his bottle. Oh! We're starting him on solid foods. I knew he'd been on cereal for a few months but had no idea what jar to get. There's a million choices, and I'm terrified to screw this up. I survived a war, but baby food has me rattled.

Dean grabbed the jar of bananas. He made a face when I suggested that the green beans would be a better choice.

I laughed at the boy's antics and grabbed several jars of both. We have to start somewhere, and I'm too exhausted to think straight let alone figure out which foods are the best to start our boy out right.

By the way, I met with a psychic named Missouri. Yes, I said psychic. She's larger than life and a bit odd, but boy she won't give an inch and she's good people. She's helped me, Mary. She still does and I'm too damned worn out to do it all.

Damn, I really need to sleep. I never realized how often Sammy gets up in the night for a bottle. I thought he was sleeping through the night, but he still gets up every 2-3 hours. You never once woke me up to get him for you. Probably should thank you for that. Course, that's also probably what killed you.

You were taken from us nearly a month ago, and I can scarcely believe it. I still see the look on your face in my nightmares. I wake up every morning in a cold sweat, gasping for breath. I expect to see your beautiful face right there next to me, telling me it was all a bad dream, but the hope dies and I realize that I am alone.

Sammy liked the bananas, but the green beans are a different matter altogether. Dean gloated a bit, especially when his little brother spit them all over me. I was covered in green beans. By the way, those are not green beans. I've eaten green beans many times, and let me tell you something, I don't know what the hell those are, but pretty sure green beans aren't the right answer.

Dean just kept laughing at his brother's antics. Not helpful, but endearing in a way that made my heart swell. You would have loved this special time with them, and I feel guilty that I'm here instead of you, Mary. It's definitely not fair, but when was the world ever fair, right?

We've been staying with Mike and Kate. He's my partner and my friend, and I needed someplace safe for the boys while I try to sort some stuff out.

I just couldn't bring myself to go back to the house. I won't leave the boys right now and there's no way in hell I'd take them back in that house. You died there, and the boys and I lost everything that was important. Kate did me the biggest favor when she went to the house and rescued anything that was salvageable.

She did manage to find a few things that made it through alright, not the least of which was your charm bracelet. I've kept it in my pocket ever since. The most disappointing news was that she couldn't find your old keepsake box. I know it sounds silly, but I was really hoping to have that beat up old wooden box for our boys. I remembered teasing you about it incessantly. Every little thing you would put in there like your father's journal after your parents' deaths. We got married in that little place in August in Reno two years later, and you bought a deck of cards to put in that damned box. I had hoped to keep it up for you with Dean's first tooth, so I asked her to look again.

I know what you're going to say, Mary. That the boy's too young to lose any teeth yet, but that was before he took a baseball to the face during catch a couple days ago. He was playing with Mike and Kate's boys, and the ball just got out of control.

The ball didn't knock his tooth out, but it killed it. The dentist said it was abscessed and would have to be removed. First trip to the dentist without you was a logistical nightmare, but we made it work. I never realized Dean was so afraid of needles.

He put the tooth under his pillow and was over the moon the next morning when he woke up to find a two dollar bill there. I made sure it was just the way your daddy used to do it.

Back to the house, most everything was trashed and she never did find that box. I guess it was destroyed by the fire. We have Sammy's blanket because he was wrapped in it, but Dean lost everything except the pajamas he was wearing. Poor kid lost his copy of Goodnight Moon and the bunny that came with it. He took it pretty well, all things considered, but I found another copy, and we read the book to Sammy every night.

I hate to think about it, but we were really lucky that night. It could have been so much worse. Sammy could have died. I shake all over when I even think about it.

Like I was saying, Mike understood at first. I think he was terrified that if this horrible thing happened to me, it could very easily have been him. He kept his wife and kids close those first few days.

I knew I was having some trouble. I can't stop seeing you pinned to that ceiling screaming. I felt the heat of the fire that took you from us and it still burns, only deep down where no one can see the damage it's done.

That sounded kind of bad. I'm fine. I've dealt with horrible things in my life, and I'll make this work too.

Okay, Mary, that's a lie and, dammit, I never could lie to you. Ever since that day you knocked me on my ass outside that movie theatre, I knew you were the only one who would ever understand me. I'm not fine right now, Mary, and to be honest I may never be fine again.

I know I've been drinking a little too much, but it's so much easier to breathe when I've got a few beers or a couple of shots of whiskey in me. I never drink to excess. That wouldn't be fair to the boys. I guard the boys in their room every single night, watching them sleep, praying that I can actually keep my promise to you.

Mike's been after me to send Dean back to preschool, but, baby, I just can't bear to let him out of my sight. I came so close to losing him and Sammy. If I hadn't heard you call me…if I'd slept through that night, with the noise from the TV, it'd all be gone. You and the boys were my world. I would have lost everything.

He keeps telling me that I need to go back to work and get Dean back to his normal school schedule. Who the hell is he kidding? He didn't just lose his wife of ten years and the most important person in his universe. He doesn't break out into a cold sweat when he thinks of letting his kids out of his sight.

Kate told him to leave me alone and that I'd send Dean back when he was ready.

I mean, come on, Dean needs time to process the loss. I know because I've had a world of pain in my life, and this was the worst. I'm not processing all of this worth a damn, so how can I expect him to do what I'm struggling with? He's four years old.

I've been grateful for Mike's help and support, but dammit, these are my boys and I'm not gonna mess this up.

I spent half the day on the phone with the damned insurance company. They said these things take time, but what the hell? This day's been nearly impossible, Mary. I just need a damned break!

Wouldn't you know it that I spoke too soon! The day wasn't going to get any better. In fact, it was about to go down the tubes faster than shit.

I'd just finished my first beer when Mike came home from the shop. He herded Kate into their room and after a bout of harsh whispering, she came out crying. She couldn't meet my gaze, and I knew that a shit storm was coming.

Kate took a dozing Sammy from my arms as Mike came into the kitchen and gestured for me to take a seat at the table. I figured he was going to ask us to leave. I gotta tell you, Mary, I'm a mess, so I really can't hold it against him, but it scared the hell out of me all the same.

It was so much worse than I thought. He handed me a check for my half of the business, which I could frankly care less about right now. Then, he crossed a line, Mary.

He threatened to take the boys from me until I could get my shit together. I slammed out of the chair so fast the damn thing flew back several feet before it fell to the floor with a bang. No one will get our boys. No one. I punched him in the face and stormed from the room. I slammed through the door to our room and started grabbing our gear.

Dean shoved his stuff into his bag without asking a single question. That should have clued me in that he isn't quite right, but I missed the signs. I hauled the ruck sack up on my shoulder and grabbed Dean by the hand.

We came into the living room where Kate rocked a fussing Sam in her arms. She kept crying and you know how I can never stand to see a woman cry. My anger deflated immediately as I reached for our baby.

Kate looked into my eyes and gave him up. She apologized and told me it didn't have to be this way. I told her to take it up with her husband.

I know what you're going to say, Mary. It was immature and I was an asshole, but dammit I'm at the end of my rope. I managed to calm down a bit and at least offer a bit of comfort to her.

I patted her on the shoulder, grateful for all her help with the boys. I then strode out the door, loaded the boys into the Impala, and we drove away.

I'm still not sure what I'm doing, Mary, but I promise you that I will figure it all out.

You know I never promise unless I really mean it. I will not let you down, and I won't let our boys be killed like you were, baby. I just can't let that happen. I will protect them with my life and teach them everything I possibly can.

I went to see Missouri again. She's a force to reckon with, for sure, but there's a calmness that surrounds her and I needed that right now. She warned me that I need to be careful. She explained that our precious baby Sammy bears an invisible mark making him a target for something truly sinister.

I just gaped at her, because really, what the hell else can you do when someone you actually trust tells you something like that? Bad stuff happens, Mary. I sure know that. There was nothing good that came from 'Nam, except maybe a few soldiers. I'm talking about those of us not completely messed up by the shit we had to do over there.

She noted my exhaustion and told me I needed to sleep if I was going to be any good to our boys. I tried, babe, I really did, but I woke up screaming with Dean's little hand on my face.

He was just looking at me with an understanding and wisdom beyond his years. Looking around, I realized I was in Missouri's spare room. I lay sprawled on the bed at an angle, my clothes soaked, blankets twisted around me.

Dean patted my face again, his wearing a sad smile. Glancing down, I saw his other hand on Sammy's back, rubbing gentle circles with a little pat at the end.

This small action sucker punched me, Mary. That's exactly how you comforted our sons time and time again. I remember you doing this when they were hungry and waiting on a bottle or hurt and just needing your reassurance that they would be fine.

Sammy started to fuss, and Dean settled him with a soothing word and that rubbing pat once again. It should be my job, but Sammy responds to Dean like nothing I've ever seen before.

Sammy often cries, missing you so much. Kate and Missouri tried to help calm him, rocking him, singing to him, but it's always Dean who manages it with ease. Sammy stops immediately when Dean just lays a hand on him. It's amazing the bond they already seem to share. It's also completely necessary if we have any shot at keeping him safe.

Oh, baby, I just realized something that I should have seen so much earlier. Dean doesn't talk anymore. Well, that's not entirely true. How did I miss it?

Dean only talks to Sammy. Not me. Not Missouri. Not even her boy James. He whispers to Sam all the time. Tells him he'll always be there. Promises to keep him safe. He even talks to him about his day or asks questions about little things, like which book Sam wants to hear or what he wants to eat.

I have to do better than I'm doing, and it's about to get a lot harder.

We have to leave Lawrence, Mary. I know we hoped to make an incredibly dull and normal life here, and in our vows to each other, we would always put our family first. Your death changed everything, so while we may have to find a new home, I will always remain true to the vows that I made to you and put the boys first.

Just a little bit ago, Missouri picked Sammy up to settle him while Dean was taking his bath. Moments later, she closed her eyes and warned me that a deadly force was coming for him. She couldn't tell me anything else. Only that she felt this overwhelming evil and it was closing in on us.

She told me I have to keep moving and be careful who I trust.

I grabbed Dean from the tub, threw him into some pajamas, grabbed our gear, and tore out of there like a bat out of hell.

Dean never said a word to any of us. He just laid a hand on his brother to quiet him and walked out the door without looking back.

We've been on the road about three hours. I headed north. Not sure why, but it seemed the direction to go. Dean has fallen asleep in the back seat with his hand on Sammy's leg.

I never noticed before that he stays connected to him constantly if he can. At least Sam hasn't been sick again. Aside from the night of your death and the formula debacle, he hasn't been sick at all. I worry about the boys constantly and I'll be honest, Mary, it's beginning to wear me down.

We need to stop for a bit. It's the middle of the night and even though the boys are sleeping, I need coffee. I also need a plan. We need to find a place to stay. I know you would be doing this so much better if the roles were reversed, Mary.

Sammy should be waking up any time now so he can eat. I'm actually a little surprised he's slept so long. It must have been all the excitement. He consistently eats every two to three hours.

There it is, the sound that I've been expecting for the past hour. Sammy just started crying again. He's hungry and the boy eats like a little linebacker, while his chubby legs kick for all he's worth. He'll be a fighter, Mary. I can feel it.

I looked in the rearview mirror to make sure he was okay and saw Dean looking back at me. He had been out like a light and must have woken up the instant Sammy did.

I pulled into an all-night truck stop just outside of Omaha, Nebraska. It's called Sapp Brothers, and I only bring it up because lately that's exactly how I feel. Like I've been duped by the demon that Missouri says killed you and sapped of my strength raising these boys. The word just seemed to fit.

I know I'm not thinking right. Not at this minute because I'm suffering from massive sleep deprivation and…dammit, Mary…I'm so pissed at you for leaving us.

You should have told me. You knew that something was coming. You knew and you shared none of it, and that makes me so angry with you. So mad at you that I can hardly see straight. I don't know everything yet, but you know I won't stop until I do.

Missouri told me things about the house the day she read its aura or whatever the hell she did. She said she could feel your terror for Sammy in that nursery and Lord knows that's exactly what I expected. Then she paused and gave me this look that I wish I could have ignored.

I closed my eyes and I really tried to let it go, but that's just not how I'm built. You know I wanted every scrap of knowledge I could get, so she told me. She said that the terror was prevalent, but the air reeked of resignation and remorse as well.

Resignation and remorse, Mary. You can't feel that way, that sense of regret for something you know nothing about and it's damned impossible to be resigned to your fate and ignorant at the same time.

How could you keep something like that from me? Missouri said that the nursery was baptized in the fires of your self-condemnation! We nearly lost Sammy. If I hadn't come to check, if I hadn't heard you yell, Sam would have died in that fire. I will love you to my dying breath, baby, but dammit, you should have told me. I'm a soldier and a damn good one, decorated in battle, and you always said that you loved my strength and sense of honor. Where was your honesty, Mary? Whatever it was that you were hiding, we could have dealt with it together.

In Vietnam, there were these attacks by elite enemy forces on our soldiers. They left devastation in their wake. We called them sapper attacks. That's what you and that demon did to me, Mary. You left confusion and ruination. I need to forgive you for that, but I don't know how.

A hand on my shoulder pulled me out of my dark thoughts. It's Dean. Sammy's crying and I'm railing at my dead wife. Nice, Winchester. Get it together, man.

Sighing heavily, I grabbed the diaper bag and got the boys out of the car. I inhaled the frigid air, and it woke me up a bit. Dean squeezed his baby brother's hand and told him that he'd get his bottle soon and Sammy stopped crying.

I smiled. Well, hell. He may not be talking to me right now, but at least he's still talking to Sammy.

I needed to get the boys out of this car for a bit. It's cold outside, but I saw a small park and we could all use the fresh air.

I swung the Impala into the lot. God, I love this car, Mary. She still handles like a dream.

I know I yelled at you earlier, but you know I could never stay mad at you.

Pulling the keys out of the ignition, I grabbed my faded jacket and got out of the car, pulling the diaper bag out as well. The air is crisp and clean, so I inhale deeply and prepare for what Dean would call a grand adventure.

Maybe I don't have the time to stop, but the light in Dean's eyes said I made the right choice. I've got to remember they're little boys and not soldiers, although that's exactly what they may have to become. They've pushed on better than some of the men I fought with in 'Nam.

Dean jumped down from the car, waiting for me to pull the baby out of the carrier. He's spent enough time in there for a bit, and Sammy damn near flailed out of my arms in excitement.

His legs worked feverishly, pumping like he was running in place. I laughed despite myself. Dean pulled on his jacket, then handed Sammy's flannel snowsuit to me.

I'll admit, I looked at the thing with disdain. I always helped Dean get his winter gear on, but, baby, you must have been part saint to put this damn thing on Dean every time when he was a baby. It's like dressing an octopus hopped up on caffeine and twice as squirrely.

I finally got him in the damn thing, and I was actually sweating by the time I did it. It must be 40 degrees outside which is probably too cold for the park, but at this point we're committed to the action. Dean laughed and it was the best sound I've heard in a long time.

Maybe, he's starting to come around.

I asked him if he was ready to take on the park. He looked up at me and nodded real seriously. He stayed with me the entire time, babe. Maybe he's just raw from losing you, but he's just not himself these days, and I'm not exactly sure what to do or who I can ask.

It's all so overwhelming when I stop for a few seconds to think about it, so I just ruck up and do the best I can.

I pushed Dean on the swings before he leapt out midair and ran for the slide. Sam was in his own baby swing, his legs pumping like nobody's business. He's fascinated with the chains on the seat, holding on to them for all he's worth.

When Dean crossed his line of sight, he damn near flipped over the swing in an effort to see his big brother. I thought for sure the swing would just dump him out on the cold ground.

Dean and I played a short game of tag, while Sammy sat on his blanket and tried to move into a crawling position in his snow suit. We burst out laughing because what else could we do, at least until Sammy realized he was stuck, and I rushed forward to rescue him.

It was a wonderful hour, and we raced back to the car to get out of the cold. Sammy and I won, but it was a little closer than I'd like. Time to grab the boys some lunch. I recognized that look in Sam's eyes and an all-out squall for food was T minus 10 minutes and counting.

It all worked out and the boys seemed to be handling things a bit better. We haven't really talked anymore about your death. It's not an easy subject for me, so I can only imagine how bad it would be for a four year old.

We're being watched.

I thought I felt something back at the park, but I figured I was just being paranoid. There it was again, that strange prickling feeling along the back of my neck that I learned to listen to in 'Nam. After all, that's what kept me in one piece, so I could make it home. I can't afford to ignore it. Unfortunately, it's much stronger now.

Some days, baby, I feel like I'm losing my mind completely. I thought I left those things back in that god forsaken country. Then it all comes back to me, and I realize something horrible.

What if I have to be that soldier again?

If something…sorry that's a cop out…if a demon is really coming for us, for Sammy, there is nothing, and I do mean nothing, I won't do to protect both our boys.

It scares me because I haven't had to be that man for a very long time, Mary. What if I've gone too soft? What if I don't have it in me anymore? What will happen to the boys then?

Enough of that. I need to focus.

We've made it to Blue Earth, Minnesota. Not sure what's here, but I overheard Dean telling his brother that he saw a huge Incredible Hulk outside the window.

That kid's imagination is something else. He's seen a few episodes of the show here and there, but the Hulk here in the real world? That might be a bit of a stretch.

I know you didn't want them to watch a lot of television, but I think a little bit of time with the idiot box won't damage them too badly.

You should hear some of the stories that he tells Sammy. I think they are pieces he remembers from story time with us. He talks to the baby about King Arthur and the Knights of the Round Table and how we're on this grand adventure. Wouldn't it be great to believe in that stuff again?

There he goes again, telling Sammy about the Hulk statue. I considered intervening to inject a little reality into the conversation when I caught the green monstrosity out of the corner of my eye.

There it was, this huge, green statue, maybe 60 feet tall, and I couldn't say a thing. Shocked me so much, I almost pulled the car over. Turns out, we'd just arrived at the home of the Jolly Green Giant. Who knew? I gotta say, Mary, they take their vegetables very seriously here.

Dean was so infatuated with that statue; we drove up to take a closer look. He stared at it, his green eyes like saucers, as he knelt at the window taking it all in.

I told him that we had to keep moving, so we had to make it quick. It didn't seem to dampen his enthusiasm one bit. He just nodded his understanding and turned back towards the window.

That kiddo can certainly roll with the punches. It'll come in handy if we can't settle down right away.

It was difficult to break the spell that enormous green thing had over our boy, but after another reminder we were good to go.

Dean said goodbye to the green giant and even got Sammy to wave at it. I smiled at the nonsense knowing that we really needed the levity. The past month has been hell without you, Mary.

The smile died when the hairs on the back of my neck again stood at attention. There's something closing in on us. I can feel it like slimy oil on my skin, turning my stomach to jelly. I can't afford to make a mistake.

We've got to find a church. It's the only refuge I can think of if a demon is after Sammy. I promised you I'd keep them safe, and I'll do it or die trying.

Dean tapped my back and pointed out the stained-glass windows, and I swung the car around to make it into the lot. I shut the ignition down quickly and jumped from the car.

Grabbing the boys, we raced into the holy building. I'd hoped that sacred ground would be enough to keep a demon at bay, but I'm flying on instinct here, Mary.

The doors slammed open, and we barreled into the gathering place, startling a young man at the front of the small church.

He came towards me at a run, a serious look in his eyes, his gaze straying to the space behind me looking for whatever had me running. Upon seeing nothing, he relaxed slightly but seemed to remain on guard.

He laid a gentle hand on my shoulder, and a sudden peace washed over me. I can scarcely describe it, Mary. It was like I knew this was exactly where I should be. I like to think you're guiding me along. It gives me a little serenity and makes me feel less alone.

He introduced himself as Pastor James Murphy, Pastor Jim for short. It made me smile. Into this sacred space, a large harried man towing two kiddos bursts in like the devil's chasing us, and he's calm like this is all business as usual.

He shook Dean's hand as I introduced him to our boy. Dean looked him right in the eye and smiled, which made me feel even better about the man. Then Sammy laughed and waved a chubby little fist at him, and I somehow knew that things would work out.

He took us into the rooms at the back of the church and gave me some water. I drank thirstily knowing that the caffeine I'd been living on had me dehydrated as well as wide awake. He had the boys drink a bit as well then nodded as if we'd passed some big test.

He offered us refuge for as long as we needed and asked me if I had any special skills that would help the church. The man didn't waste a single word or minute for that matter.

When he learned I was a mechanic by trade, he could hardly contain his enthusiasm. Apparently, several cars had been donated to his church and none of them ran.

He laughingly joked that the church is a safe harbor for more than people.

I startled myself as well as Dean when I barked out a laugh of my own.

Apparently, it's been awhile since I relaxed. You would probably just remind me that my people skills are rusty, and maybe I needed to poke my head out from under the hood once in a while.

I told the pastor as much and Dean looked at me so strangely. I couldn't place it at the time, but then I realized, to him, I must almost seem like the dad he remembered from before your death.

God, Mary, I have changed so much in such a short time. I've become harder and more distant. I've walled off a large part of myself so I can do what needs to be done, and I got to be honest with you, I'm not always sure I like the man I've had to become.

I just realized that today was your birthday, Mary. Happy Birthday, my love.

We've been with Pastor Jim for a little over two weeks now, and the boys seem to have settled into a routine. I'm still worried about Dean though. He's been waking up nearly every night screaming unless I let him sleep in the playpen with his brother. Half the time he just climbs in there anyway so they can talk.

It's a little eerie because Sam looks at his brother as though he understands what he's saying. Something changed profoundly the night we lost you, Mary. Not just the fact that we lost you, but with the boys as well. I'll let you know when I can put it into words.

It's mid-December and I've spent most of my daytime hours working on those cars for Jim. He has a heated space we can work in, so I set up the playpen so we can keep an eye on Sammy. Dean helps by handing me the tools I need, sometimes before I even know I need them.

I spent the first day teaching him about what all the parts are called and where they are usually located on an engine. I know he's only four, but he's super smart, so I figured I'd see how it goes.

He's amazing, Mary. In just a few hours, he had soaked it up like a sponge. He's got a real aptitude for cars and what makes them tick. Maybe he'll be a mechanic like his old man.

We spent the next several days repairing an old 1975 Dodge Charger. He just pushed up his sleeves, stepped up on the little ladder we found at the back of the garage, and got to tinkering. Damnedest thing I've ever seen, babe.

Jim told me that Santa would be at the church this weekend for all the kids to visit. I remembered we took Dean to see him last year and how he excitedly talked to the man, asking about his sleigh and the reindeer, rather than relaying a long Christmas list. You really did an amazing job with him, baby. He's such a great kid.

I asked Dean if he wanted to go, and he just shrugged like it wasn't all that important to him. Maybe we'll give it a try anyway.

Jim cornered me coming out of the kitchen last night and wanted to talk to me about Dean. He asked me all sorts of questions about his lack of communication. He wanted to know when it started and what he was like before you died.

When I told him that Dean just needed time to deal with your loss, Jim told me to stop making excuses and get him some help.

My mouth just hung open aghast, and he told me to close it before I started catching flies. He reminded me so much of you in that instant, I was stunned into silence.

Before I could even catch my breath, he shoved a piece of paper into my hand with a phone number on it. He said this specialist was the best at handling traumatic events in children.

I wanted to shove him and tell him to mind his own damn business. I'm their father and I'll make sure my boys have what they need. Pretty sure shoving a man of God is a bit over the line though, so I held my anger in check, barely.

He just smiled at me and chuckled a bit. I swear, Mary. That man can read minds. His next words stopped me cold.

He shook his head and point blank told me that just because they were my boys, and it was my privilege to provide what they needed, I didn't have to be so damned stubborn about it.

That little reminder nagged at me. I promised to do anything the boys needed and I'll be damned if I let my own pride get in the way of that.

Two days later, Dean and I were sitting in the office of Dr. Penelope Markham, child psychiatric specialist and apparently fixer of all our problems.

I know I'm being an ass, babe, but you know I never put any stock in this crap. Hell, I didn't even need a head shrinker after 'Nam. I wish you were here to help me recollect what you could possibly have seen in me. I just got to catch my breath. God, I hate this.

Evidently, I was grumbling about it before we left the house because, like one of my old training sergeants, Jim told me to suck it up. He then proceeded to remind me that Dean was worth any bit of pride pie I may have to swallow.

I had a hell of a time getting Dean out the front door. He was fine up until it came time to leave. He handed me Sammy's snowsuit, and I let him know the baby was staying home with Jim.

Dean stopped. It was as if someone threw a switch and just turned him off. He wouldn't budge from that spot. He stood there and glared at me without saying a single word. It was more than a little creepy that his small manipulation almost made me reconsider.

In the end, I told him to suck it up. We had to go and Sammy didn't need to be out in the cold any more than necessary. Truth was I didn't want to fight him into that damned suit, and I could tell that Dean suspected the real motivation behind my decision.

We were going to be late if we wasted another minute on this, so I grabbed his shoulder gently and propelled him toward the door. He didn't shout, fuss, cry or react in any way, but that glare that felt hot enough to melt my bones. He looked into my eyes and must have seen his own will reflected back at him.

He stared hard at Sammy before walking across the floor to put a hand on the baby's shoulder. He promised him that he would be back and gave Jim the same glare he'd bestowed upon me. Unlike my hard eyes, Jim's soft ones must have convinced him because he turned and walked out the door.

So now we sit in this comfortable, child friendly waiting room waiting for the specialist. I know I'm skeptical, but if she can help Dean, then we need to be here.

Some petite blonde woman just called us into the office, so here we go.

Yup. Just what I expected when I first walked in the door. The doctor presented as an intelligent, yet overly conservative woman, who's barely old enough to vote, let alone be a full-fledged doctor. She asked us to call her Dr. Penny, which just made her seem all that much younger. I swear she graduated five minutes ago, Mary. She's that damn young. What could she possibly know that will help our son?

Of course, Dean took to her like a duck to water. He smiled, the one that lights up his eyes and the whole room, when he saw her. Then disappointment shuttered his gaze, and my mind supplied the reasons.

She looks a bit like you, babe. I think for a second Dean thought you were back and then reeled himself in when he realized the truth.

The psychiatrist caught the moment, and I could see the wheels turning behind her pale blue eyes. She showed him to these baskets of Legos and Lincoln Logs and told him to build whatever struck his fancy.

That certainly made her a favorite. You know how our boy loves to build. For a second, I saw him as he was before all this happened, and my heart felt lighter.

Then, Dr. Markham gestured that we should sit and have a discussion about what brought us to her office today. I blew out a breath and studied the room down to the minutest detail. Well, she graduated three years ago, so she's still new out of the box, but maybe with a bit more experience than I first thought.

She must have sensed my reticence because she reminded me that this was a safe place to talk and that nothing said would leave the room. I'm out of my depth here, Mary, and I told her as much. I never admit defeat, but this was all so new to me.

You always handled this stuff, babe. The doctor appointments, going to the dentist or anything else the boys needed. I was always at work for those things. Hell, it just dawned on me that I have no idea if Sam is up to date on his vaccinations. Guess I had better check on that, although I'm at a complete loss as to how to do that. Would have to call the doctor's office would be my best guess.

I rolled my neck and tried to break some of the tension that just hit me out of left field. Shit! I needed a break soon or things were going to get real ugly.

Dr. Markham leaned forward to encourage me to answer her question.[ME1] [ME2] I blew out another breath and tried to remember what the lady had just asked me. Failing that, I requested that she repeat it, which she did, but first she wanted to know how I've been handing things.

Well, shit. That was just fantastic. I managed to avoid this very thing for years in the military, but now I was stuck and let's just say she won't like the answers if I'm at all truthful. This should be good.

Let's look at the checklist, shall we? Wife murdered by a demon. Check. On the run from the aforementioned demon. Check. Don't exactly know what the hell I'm doing. Check. How have I been handling things? My life has become a shit storm of epic proportions, and my kids are being dragged around for the ride. How the hell do you think I'm handling things, lady?

I told her I was fine. What the hell else could I say? Definitely, nothing about fucking demons or how you really died. I had no intention of being locked up and knew I needed to be very careful about what intel she was allowed to know.

She let it go even though I could tell she knew I was full of shit. She nodded once and then asked about our plans for Christmas. I just stared at her blankly. Jim had mentioned it a few times, and although I took Dean to that Christmas thing at the Church, I never did get him to interact with Santa. He went easily enough, but when it came time to sit on the big guy's lap, he gave me this look that I can't even describe.

It was like he'd aged years instead of just weeks since you died. I closed my eyes and took his hand in mine. We left the line at the front of the reception hall and didn't go back.

He didn't even want cookies when I suggested it as we were leaving. Maybe next year was my fleeting thought, although I wondered if that would even matter. Who knew where we would be?

Dr. Markham believed that this was all normal behavior for the trauma that he'd been through and that Dean was just going to need a little extra time to process the loss of his mother. Well, no shit lady, I could have told her that.

She wanted to see us a few more times. I told her that I would be more than happy to bring Dean, but that I'd be just fine without her services. She gave me the same look you used to when you thought I was being an ass. It was a little unsettling because she really could have been your kin. I agreed to continue the sessions because I knew that's what you'd want, and it was best for Dean if we get this all worked out.

I will do anything for our boys, Mary. Anything.

Christmas Day started with snow on the ground and white as far as the eye could see. In Kansas, that was always hit or miss, but Minnesota's a different story.

Dean loved the snow in Kansas, but here he's been reluctant to go out unless we bring Sammy with us.

Sammy's up to seven foods now, other than the cereal. His favorites are bananas, peaches and something called Hawaiian Delight. He also loves sweet potatoes. Unfortunately, green beans are not a happening thing and don't even get me started on peas.

Dean's the only one who can get him to eat those things, and I'm not even sure how. From what I can tell, he doesn't do anything special, just puts it on the spoon and Sammy eats it right up. It's a little frustrating. It's like they already know they've got me outnumbered.

Anyway, Dean just came in and dragged the covers off my bed. I'm guessing that even in silent mode, he's anxious to open his presents, and Sammy just crawled into the room, so Jim must be up and waiting as well.

I dragged myself up from my warm bed and stooped to snag Sammy off the floor. He squealed as I tossed him up on my shoulder, and we moved through the house towards the living room following a very intent Dean.

He settled next to the presents under the tree then dug around until he found one that made him smile. He pulled it out and I started to tell him to wait until we were all ready, but then he handed it to Sammy, and the realization that he would always take care of and protect his baby brother nearly brought me to my knees.

Jim must have sensed the change in me because he squeezed my shoulder and took a seat on a chair across the room to watch the show. I set Sammy down on the floor next to his brother, his little arms full of the brightly wrapped present.

I squatted down next to the boys and then settled down on the floor with them, my back up against the sofa. I dragged Sammy and his gift into my lap and asked Dean to help him open it.

He smiled and moved Sammy's little hands onto the paper and showed him how to tear the paper off. Once Sam realized that he wouldn't get in trouble for tearing stuff up, he got into the spirit and ripped the rest of the paper away.

He poked at the thing in the box for a good minute before he squeezed the life out of it in the box. Dean laughed when it started to glow and Sammy's eyes widened, before he decided that everything was alright and started to chew on his new Glo-Worm.

I deftly pulled it out of the box and gave it to him to play with unencumbered by the packaging. He squealed his delight with the gift and Dean's look of pride made the moment nearly magical.

Dean picked that present out especially for his little brother, probably with the intent to offer comfort to him. He didn't seem anxious to open anything else, so for the next few minutes we watched Sammy enjoy his new gift.

His older brother reached across and squeezed it again to show him how it lit up, and Sammy started to laugh all over again.

Jim and I enjoyed the show immensely, and I was glad I heeded his advice to take these moments with our sons. My only wish right now was that you could be here with us.

Dean seemed to get into the spirit now and pulled out another gift. This one was for me. I told him to go ahead and open something for himself because I could certainly wait. His insistence struck a chord with me, and I complied after seeing the look of anticipation on his young face.

Peeling the paper back, I unwrapped the box with trembling fingers. For the life of me, I couldn't imagine what it could possibly be.

My breath left me in a rush when I finally caught a glimpse of what he'd given to me. There were several photographs of our old life. One of you and me in front of the old house. God, we were so happy then.

I shuffled to the next one to find Dean with your arms wrapped securely around him, and another showed the whole family taken by Kate the day of the summer BBQ. It's so hard to believe that was just a few months ago.

There were only a few, and they were carefully tucked into a manila envelope. Where did he get these?

I looked at him in surprise, and he just shrugged. I'm beginning to hate that gesture. I can't tell you how much I miss his voice, how I dream about our conversations from the old house about family and baseball.

I glanced at Jim, and he seemed as confused as I. I asked Dean about them, and he turned the envelope over in my hands. My gut ached and my chest drew tight at the writing there. Mary's perfectly formed letters labeling the envelope.

"Dean's Kid of the Week" pictures. These must have been for the preschool he was attending. There was a note stuck inside the envelope from Kate. Just a quick scrawl stating that the preschool returned them to her not wanting to disturb me after what had happened.

She must have stuffed them in the diaper bag without thinking about it. Maybe she forgot about them. There was a lot going on at the time.

You're so beautiful, Mary. I reverently moved my fingers across your face and thought about the day this picture was taken. What a great day! I realized at that moment we wouldn't be having any more days like that one, and it made me sad for the things our children would miss.

Dean gave me a pat on the shoulder and grabbed the next gift for Jim. We went on that way for a bit, just comfortable in the quiet before Dean reached for the final gift under the tree. It was addressed to him and he opened it with relish, a small smile playing about his mouth.

His efforts revealed a See N Say Mother Goose. His eyes lit up as he remembered that this was a toy he was familiar with, a toy he'd played with from before. He pulled the string, and this high pitched mechanical voice droned on about Jack and Jill going up the hill.

He must have pulled that string a million times that morning, but the delight in his green eyes as he listened to the rhyme made it completely worth it. Of course, now I know why I sometimes found that toy on the shelf in the hall closet.

We missed you being there with us, Mary. Christmas wasn't the same without your laughter as you watched Dean play with his new toys and that gleam that made your eyes sparkle with enjoyment when you realized that you found the perfect toy for him.

We finished cleaning up, Sammy making things more difficult by dragging that worm through the paper strewn about the floor. There was not a lot of money while I still wait for the settlement, but I still had some from the check that Mike had given to me, although I've tried to be careful with that. What I can tell you is that I will never forget this Christmas.

That night, Dean tucked his baby brother in with that glowing toy and lay his arm protectively across him.

We all slept well that night. Or at least, as well as you can when you have a nearly eight month old baby who loves to eat. Sammy has slowed down a bit since we added the solid food. He only woke up once during the night.

I fed him a bottle while Dean watched on, and he went out like a light.

Maybe I can do this after all.

It's the first day of January and a new year begins. I barely survived 1983, so I can only hope that 1984 will be much better.

Dean has been seeing Dr. Penny for a couple of weeks now. He still hasn't said a word to anyone but Sammy, but he seems less agitated than before. Whether that's the good doctor's doing or the fact that he's had a home for the past two months remains to be seen.

I needed to tell Jim what's going on with me. That nagging feeling that something is out there just biding its time hounds me daily. I used a good chunk of the buyout money to get some good weapons. I knew they would eventually be needed, and I sure as hell felt better having them around. I picked up a couple of Colt M1911 handguns, a Colt Anaconda and an Ithaca 37 sawed off shotgun with the appropriate ammo for each.

I've started doing perimeter patrols every morning at sunup and every night before we lock up. Jim knew something was up. I mean, the man's not a fool, but I've been hesitant to drag an innocent pastor into our problems.

Crap, Mary. The man really does read minds. He cornered me coming out of the boys' and my room tonight. After ensuring that the boys were fast asleep, he told me that his friend Jenny was going to watch them for a little while so we could run an errand at the Church.

I had no idea why I was needed for this job, but he assured me that my presence was required so I went. He took me down this wide concrete stairwell to a set of dark wooden double doors.

He glanced at me as if to gauge my reaction and then pulled out his keys, unlocking the door that would become symbolic for me as well as physical.

The heavy doors swung in a wide arc, revealing something I never thought I'd see.

The man has an arsenal…in the basement…of the church. What the hell, Mary? Who keeps an arsenal in a church basement?

Pastor Jim, that's who.

I immediately adopted a fighting stance and put my hands up to defend or attack as necessary.

He smiled and said he'd sensed a kindred spirit in me. What? I felt like I just entered the Twilight Zone.

There is a long cabinet with every kind of knife I saw during the war and many I'd never seen before just lying there in pristine condition and well maintained. The wall above that cabinet had more guns than I've seen in one place in a long time or at least since my shopping trip last week. There were handguns, multi-barreled pistols, semi-automatics, some long guns and even an old pistol.

I gaped at the weaponry, wondering if I'd just stumbled into the lair of the most psychopathic serial killing bastard ever. That's not the vibe he gave off, not at all.

I calmly tried to defuse the situation. He wasn't being threatening at all. In fact, he'd retreated to a stool behind a large mahogany table littered with books.

He told me that, as I too know, life can bring great pain. Jim had a faraway look in his eye, but he was still there with me.

His voice took on a deep somberness that reminded me of when he practices his sermons.

He said that there was great evil in the world and that we had to be alert at all times and pray so that we have the power to escape everything that was about to happen.

I asked him where he got all that. He shrugged and told me it was a hazard of his profession and that it was from the gospel of Luke from the Holy Book.

I meant the arsenal, not the words flowing from his mouth. He smirked at me, and I just knew he was messing with me. He began to explain.

Apparently, he's known about demons for a little while. He clarified that he was what was uncommonly known as a hunter, a descriptive term for monster fighters, but that his specialty was possessions.

Possessions? Monsters? Mary, I know about demons, but monsters? I was pretty sure Jim had just fallen off his rocker. He assured me that he was as sane as it was possible to be as a hunter but that he'd seen too much to turn a blind eye to it.

Jim described that his first brush with supernatural forces was about ten years ago when he witnessed a priest performing an exorcism in a small town not too far from Lawrence. He didn't give it any credence, until he saw something unnatural leave the young girl's body. Jim characterized it as a black inky smoke that slithered along the floor until it passed through a vent.

My mind whirled incessantly. How can this be? How could I have entrusted the care of my children to someone who seemed so balanced but obviously was not.

That's when he pulled this enormous book from the table in front of him. He showed me how men and women had been fighting these things, these….monsters for hundreds of years.

I began to sweat as I looked through the book, seeing for the first time all the evil that exists in the world.

My God, Mary. I'm trying to protect the boys from one damn demon. How can I possibly protect them from all of this?

For a moment, I couldn't breathe. I tried, but was completely unable to draw a single breath. My eyes wandered the page seeing things I had never even dreamed could exist. Then I saw the most impossible thing. I stared at the page for moments, but it felt like a lifetime. What the hell is this?

I pointed a shaky finger at the page wavering in my vision. This can't be. This just can't be true.

I shoved Jim, demanding to know where he got this book. He told me that he was a keeper of knowledge for the hunters, and they sent him books all the time. This particular book was sent to him after the deaths of a prolific bloodline because another hunter didn't want to see all the knowledge lost.

Jim looked confused, but I couldn't find the words to tell him how my entire life had turned upside down once again.

I could only point at the page, my shock expanding exponentially, my heart frozen between beats.

He just shook me until my eyes finally met his concerned ones. I felt cornered like an animal in the wilderness. I nearly lashed out, but his calmness seemed to permeate my roiling mind.

I closed my eyes hoping that the world would return to some semblance of sense, that what I was seeing would not become fact, but I really should have known better. When have I ever been that lucky in the past few months?

He kept calling my name until, in the space of a moment, my breath caught up and my heart started beating once again.

Overcome with anger and shock, I stumbled through an explanation for my reaction to this supposedly innocuous book that would forever alter the course of my life.

I showed him the lineage that covered the pages laid out before us. How Nathaniel had come with his beloved wife Rose to the United States from Scotland. I gestured at their children: Thomas, Caleb and Hannah.

He followed my fingers as they angrily scratched down the page to Jebediah, before darting over Samuel and Deanna Campbell, until my shaking fingers were drawn to their only child, a daughter. I pressed my finger into the page until it was dented with the force of my nail.

The one name that in a million years I never expected to see here. The woman who had become my beloved wife and mother to my sons.

Mary Sandra Campbell born December 5, 1954.

In that moment, everything I knew, or more correctly thought I knew, shattered into pieces so small there was a chance I may never put things right.

All the times you said to me that we needed to talk and not keep things to ourselves, Mary.

Every damned moment you were on my ass to be honest with you about my experiences in the war no matter how horrific they may be.

Each and every fucking time you wheedled out of me some secret feeling that I swore never to share with anyone, let alone the love of my life.

In just over ten years together, you got them all. Every part of me belonged only to you, Mary. There was nothing that I didn't share with you. Not one damned thing. Not one.

You gave me peace, something I had known so little of in my life. You said you loved me more than anything and gave me happiness every second that I was with you, dammit.

Hell, you even gifted me with the two amazing boys I've been struggling to raise without you. In the end, none of it really mattered because you didn't trust me enough to give me the truth about who you were or who you had been. All those times, I laid it all out there for you and thought you'd done the same for me.

But I was wrong, wasn't I, Mary? You didn't do that for me because there's now one truth I know above all else, Mary.

I didn't fucking know you at all, did I?

I came back to myself on my knees in this barely lit room, where I already knew I would be spending an abundance of time learning how to protect my boys. I swiped at my face, feeling the tears drying there. Only someone you love so damned much can hurt you so very badly.

Jim was scared out of his mind at my sudden inexplicable breakdown. At first, he thought it was the shock of so much darkness in the world, but then I told him about you, Mary.

I clued him in about the Mary I thought I had known. The woman who was so real to me, the girl who had plowed out of that movie theatre on March 23, 1972, and knocked a tough and cocky marine on his ass.

I told him about the way I had to guilt you into having that cup of coffee with me because I knew I had to spend more time with you after hearing your embarrassed laughter when I glanced up at you from the ground.

How I'd loved the way your eyes lit up when you talked about Slaughterhouse Five, the movie you'd just seen, how much you liked it and how you tried so hard not to tell me anything that would spoil a movie I hadn't even thought about seeing.

I remembered the way your smile lit up Maroni's when you realized that I knew the words to every single Led Zeppelin song. How you took my phone number, even though you knew your dad would be pissed about it.

I knew from that very moment that destiny had put me in your path that day. I could see our entire lives laid out before us in just the short time we'd been together that day, and it took my breath away.

What a fickle bitch destiny can be. I chuckled, albeit hysterically, at my own joke. I thought losing you was the worst thing that could happen to me, and again I was proved wrong.

Jim heard it all and listened with patience as it all poured out of me amidst a sea of angry tears. My greatest success, the sweetest time in my life and I was such a damned fool. It didn't mean anything at all.

You lied to me, Mary. Over and over and over again. I thought about those times, the rides in the Impala and parking down at the river, where the simple act of kissing you melted my brains.

Hell, you even lied about how your father died! You told me it was a heart attack, but the book says they were both murdered by a demon. A young hunter, Daniel Elkins, filled in the blanks from the story told to him by the young hunter who borrowed some super demon killing weapon.

Now that I know it's out there, I'll need to find out, first of all, what the hell it is, and secondly how to use it to protect the boys. I can only come up with one way to do that. Kill the demon. Better figure out what the hell he is, huh?

Jim promised to help me figure it all out. He knows everything now. I explained how your father had caught us talking up at the river and literally pulled you from the Impala.

You were yelling, and your father was hurting you. I remembered stepping between you because I could never let anything happen to you. The next thing I knew, I was waking up on the ground in your arms with your father dead next to us.

You cried and told me he had a heart attack from the stress, and we ran away that very night and got a little place together while we sorted through all the chaos.

After outlining our life together and how much you meant to me, I finally got around to explaining how you died ten years later.

Jim paused at that and gave me a look that chilled me to the bone. When I asked him about it, he told me he thought he knew what happened but cautioned me that he didn't have any proof, just supposition based on countless years of experience.

I was more than willing to listen considering I had exactly jack and squat on this whole thing.

He warned me that I might not like what I hear, but when he was finished I swallowed, my mouth dry, unable to work up any spit from what I had discovered. I knew exactly what you did, Mary, because I can see it so clearly, now that I think back to what really happened that night by the river with your father.

You made a demonic deal and that really blew my fucking mind.

Jim's almost sure of it, though he explained to me that most of those deals are made not for personal gains, but to save a loved one in some way. He thought the demon was possessing your father and that I was somehow mortally wounded. He figured you made some kind of deal to bring me back.

I thought he was probably right. After all, what else would make sense? You told me your father had a heart attack, Mary. That was another lie. Your father was stabbed in what was described as a self-inflicted wound, and your mother's neck was broken, most likely by your father when he was possessed. I wish I could find the other hunter who was there at that time, but you never told me shit about it and everybody else is dead.

I haven't put all the pieces together, but I will, and I'll use it all to protect our boys. Maybe if I can meet this Elkins guy, he could give me some actionable intel. We'll just have to see.

I knew once I found out the scope of everything that I was facing that normal was never going to be an option for our boys, Mary. That's on you. Maybe together, we could have figured a way out of this mess, but you took that choice away when you made the decision without me. That always pissed you off when your father did it, but apparently the apple didn't fall far from the tree on that one.

Dammit, you were always so damned stubborn, thinking that we had to be like everyone around us. That our lives had to be normal. I can't believe I never saw how desperately you needed that normality. How you used it as a cloak to protect yourself, although I have no idea from what.

That was definitely a red flag, and I missed it. That's on me, sure, but I can't help but wonder how much of our lives were just lies, and there were so damned many how could I ever have trusted you. Jim reminded me again that you were young and in love and probably let that cloud your judgement, but at this moment, I don't give a damn.

Was I just the most normal and dull guy that you could bear to be with? God, I hope not. I loved you so much, and I have to believe for my own sanity that you loved me just as much.

I'm still majorly pissed at you, Mary. You caused all of this and now our boys could pay the ultimate price for your deception.

It'll be a long time before I can let go of that, but it'll have to wait. I'll work through it. Right now, it's time to ruck up and get busy learning about my new mission in life.

I'm going to hunt until I find that son of a bitch and make him dead.

I know it's been a little while since I talked to you, but I've been busy trying to find a way clear of this mess. Even though I'm still so incredibly pissed at you, I know without a doubt that you loved our boys and I should let you know what's going on with them.

Dean had his last appointment with that therapist lady today. She said there was nothing more that she could do but that he seemed like a really great kid and would probably talk when he was ready.

Wow? Did I really pay for this crap? Thankfully, I didn't. She takes cases for Pastor Jim's parish members who are having difficulties and can't afford to pay for her services.

At first, I was mad as hell that he made the assumption that I couldn't pay, but after careful consideration of our financial situation, I decided it was for the best.

It's approaching the end of January, and I've been learning more every single day. It's taken awhile, but I can finally let the boys out of my sight without feeling like I can't breathe, so it was time for a little trip. The boys stayed with Jim while I went with Caleb to meet Daniel Elkins.

Caleb is another hunter that Jim introduced me to a little while back. Course, I didn't know he was a hunter at the time. He's another good man whose life was shot to hell by a monster or a demon.

One thing I've learned in the past few weeks is that most hunters aren't born to it like you were, Mary. Some horrific traumatic event took away what they loved most, and they were forever changed by it.

I've studied the lore of many different monsters from your family journal. Apparently, your family was killing vampires on the Mayflower. I still don't know enough about my family to know what they were doing.

After my father ran off, my mother was nearly destroyed. I never learned much more about it, other than my family was all dead. Sorry, you know all this, Mary, because I told you about my family, even if you didn't feel the need to reciprocate.

I used to think your dad was an overbearing, overprotective asshole. Funny how I can identify with his need to keep you safe. I guess we both failed at that. Just another thing your dad and I have in common.

You assured me that we'd make a new family and that we'd always be together. Seeing as how you knew all the crap that was out there, baby that was a promise you really should not have made, now wasn't it?

Sorry, cheap shot and you're not even here to defend yourself. I often wonder if you would even try.

So Daniel's an interesting guy. He was a vampire hunter, though he said he's mostly retired. He told me that vamps are pretty much extinct, so that's one less monster I need to worry about getting our boys. I'll take whatever small victories I can get these days.

I asked him about that hunter that he'd loaned the weapon to and he laughed. Said the guy stole it from his safe, then had the audacity to lie about it and say he'd make sure it got back to him. Told him that the Campbells in Lawrence would have it and Daniel let the kid go.

I flinched when he said the name, but I'm not sure he noticed my discomfort. He promised he'd show me the ropes and we made plans to get together a few more times, so I could learn about hunting monsters. He said my military background would help as long as I remembered that monsters and demons don't play by any rules.

I still can't get past the fact there's a weapon that may be able to kill that demon. When I asked Daniel if he got it back, he just shrugged. He said he'd tried to contact the Campbell family several days later only to find out that they were all dead, save for a daughter and she'd run off for parts unknown. That was you, wasn't it?

He promised to get back to me if he actually found it, but I'm not gonna hold my breath. He never saw or heard from that young hunter kid again.

Speaking of kids, I can't wait to get back to the boys. I've only been gone a couple days, but it seems like forever. Not to mention, I promised Dean we'd do something special for his birthday. In a few days, our boy will be five.

He's still not talking to anyone but Sammy. I'm not sure what to do about that but give him more time to process and just keep trying.

They really are the reason I even get out of bed in the morning, especially if I think too much about what you did. That still hurts so damn much, Mary. You can't even imagine the betrayal I feel every time I let myself stop and think about it.

I can promise you this. I will not tell the boys this about their mother. They will never know anything except how much I love you and how much you loved them.

We just pulled into some diner and Caleb's just told me to stop brooding so we can go in and eat. We should be home some time tomorrow.

Huh. Home. That sounded nice. It's been awhile since I felt that we had any kind of home at all.

The boys are getting along well, settling into a normal routine, and growing up so fast. Sammy stole some of Dean's French fries the other day when he wasn't looking. That kid's so fast, and he's growing like a weed. I bet he'll be a tall one. Maybe even as tall as me. I guess only time will tell, huh?

Dean plowed into me as soon as I made it through the door. I scooped him up in my arms and held him close, my eyes closed to take in the moment.

It felt as if he'd gotten bigger just in the few days that I was gone. Sammy pulled on my pant legs trying to get me to pick him up too. Damn, I love these boys. More than anything.

I swung Sammy up into my arms and squished him together with his brother happier than I'd been in a long time.

I've been so busy learning about the monsters that I haven't always remembered that they need my attention, now more than ever.

You always said that angels watch over us, and it always made me smile because I could sense how much you believed it, but I gotta tell you, I'm not sure they're out there, Mary. If they do exist, where the hell they been? There's people dying unnaturally down here every single damn day.

Caleb and Jim have taught me so much about hunting, but not near as much as Daniel Elkins. He's become a mentor and a friend. I wanted to put off the actual hunts until the boys are older, but Daniel informed me that I'm going to have to get some real experience soon. I've read the papers trying to scour headlines and pick up traces on what could be monsters, then laid out a plan to deal with them. They all check and recheck my work making sure I don't get myself dead.

Jim told me he'd be completely pissed if I managed to get myself killed. He reminded me that one mistake and my boys become orphans. I've made arrangements with him, that should anything befall me, he will take the boys and raise them to the best of his ability.

I always thought that by providing for my family and taking care of you guys that I was doing my part. That I was protecting my family from the bad stuff in the world or at least preparing for it!

I'm still so pissed at you for taking that from me. I wasn't doing a damn thing that mattered for your protection or your safety. You'll never know how jacked up it feels to admit that to myself.

How could you even stand how naïve I was back when we were younger? How could you not prepare me for all the shit that was out there?

Dean wanted to go to this little mom and pop diner for his birthday. I wish that I could tell you he spoke these words to me, but I'm not going to lie. Most kids would have chosen Dairy Queen or McDonald's, but our boy wants to go to this diner.

I bet you can guess why. They serve pie, dozens of varieties, and it's probably his favorite place on earth. Jim took us there for lunch one day, and Dean has never ever missed the opportunity to return.

Jim eats there every other Tuesday because it's owned by one of his parishioners, and Dean makes sure his chores are done and we are all ready to go, so we don't miss it. Your boy really loves pie.

He pointed at the television when the ad for the diner came on during Dukes of Hazzard. I guess I can see why he enjoys that show. Those boys watch out for each other like he watches out for Sammy, and eventually when he gets older Sammy will watch out for him.

It was a Wednesday night and Sammy was jumping up and down in the playpen while Dean watched his show. We had mashed potatoes at dinner, and it took a bit of elbow grease to wash them out of Sammy's hair, especially now that it's quite a bit longer.

I told Dean we could go to the pie place for his birthday, and his smile was the best thing I'd seen in a long time.

I finished reading the lore on some cannibalistic monster called a Wendigo and started to put the boys to bed.

I talked to Dean about sleeping in the playpen with Sammy and made a deal with him. I promised I'd let him get anything he wants at the pie diner if he tried something new at bedtime tonight.

I borrowed a camp cot from church storage and set it up right next to the playpen in our room. Dean looked at it suspiciously but decided that, for the chance to get anything he wanted from the pie store on his birthday, it was worth a try.

Nobody slept well, but he stayed on the cot all night, his fingers resting on the netting of the playpen reaching towards his baby brother. That kid's going to be Sammy's hero growing up and with good reason.

The next two weeks flew by, and before we knew it the big day was here.

Jim made waffles for breakfast, and Dean put away more of them than I did. Man, that kid loves waffles. Give him waffles and pie and his world is a perfect place.

I wanted this birthday to be special because it's the first one without you. We played ball in the yard and went to the diner for lunch. Of course, your boy's a charmer. When Ms. Wanda found out it was his birthday and that the only place he wanted to eat was her diner, she brought out a pie sampler.

Dean's green eyes were enormous, and he nearly came out of his chair, when she laid down this large tray laden with an astounding assortment of pie including pecan, apple, cherry, lemon meringue, chocolate cream, blueberry and even a bit of strawberry rhubarb custard. Your son was in heaven and ate nearly his own body weight in pie.

I thought he'd get sick from all the pie, but apparently, he's got a cast iron stomach, and Dean smiled nearly the entire day.

It was totally worth chasing a sugar loaded Sammy around to see that smile.

Jim took me on a side trip today. He said we'd be gone for the morning and to wear a nice suit. At first, I thought we were going to meet another hunter for a case. It's not honest, but we pretend to be FBI or various other forms of law enforcement when hunting monsters, which is exactly why I thought I needed the suit.

Turns out I was right, just not in the way I thought.

His name was Jackson and, according to Caleb, a damned fine hunter. Turns out Daniel was at the funeral as well. `

Jackson Phelps was a good man and loved well and long by his wife and three children. They were happy from what I could tell in the photos at the funeral.

He was a hunter, yet his kids didn't know, but I think his wife probably had an idea. She took Jim's hand and thanked him for coming then shook mine as well. She also told Jim that no matter how many times Jackson promised her it was the last one, he never could stop.

Now that made me downright curious, Mary. Were you still hunting even after we married and had the boys? How would I ever know?

It doesn't take a rocket scientist to figure out why Jim took me there. He'd been trying to talk me out of hunting ever since I found out about it, but that's not going to happen.

I have to find that demon that killed you. That probably makes me an obsessive bastard, but I don't give a damn. I have to make things right. I've forgiven you for not telling me what you should have shared. I even understand that you were trying to protect me. It pisses me off, don't get me wrong, but I really get it now.

Jim's just trying to help in his own way. I think he knew it was a lost cause, because honestly my sense of vengeance runs deep. I know this and have come to accept it. He wants me to be a father and not worry about it, but I couldn't sit by and do nothing while good people died.

This trip was his way of reminding me how much I have to live for, but I really don't need a reminder. I realize it every time I feel Dean's hand on my shoulder or in each and every one of Sammy's smiles where you can see his dimples.

Our boys really are the best, Mary. They're smart and I can tell Dean's been taking it all in. I fell asleep while reading one of the lore books and awoke to find Dean reading through it himself.

I am fully aware that this goes against every desire you had for your boys, but you aren't here and it's the only way to protect them. I will protect them with my life, and I'm sorry that I can't raise them the way that you wanted.

Our boys will be the best damn hunters, Mary, not because it's what they want, but because that's exactly how it has to be. For their safety. To survive.

We've settled into a routine here in Blue Earth. I never thought we'd be here this long, but I am glad for the reprieve it's given the boys and me. It's mid-April and we're keeping it together.

We get up every morning and eat breakfast together. I usually have something light, while Dean eats Lucky Charms, his new favorite, and Sammy usually has Cheerios, half of which end up on the floor or stuck to his face and hair.

We spend the mornings working in the garage on a 1982 Pontiac Sunbird. I've told Jim repeatedly that the car isn't worth the effort. It's a crap car that most people call a Shitbird, but he spouted that everything deserves a second chance.

Dean just asked me what a Shitbird was and sent Jim into a seizure trying to hide his smirk. I took another breath and flipped him the bird behind Dean's back, which made him laugh even harder.

It felt really good to screw around like that, but I still really wish you were here with us.

I miss you every single day. Your smile. The twinkle in your mischievous eyes.

We stopped about noon so we could grab some grub and then spend the afternoon working with Dean on his letters and other school stuff, playing with Sammy or watching a little TV.

Each night, we give Sammy a bath or sometimes the boys take a bath together. Then it's just brushing teeth, bedtime stories and bed. Dean's been sleeping outside the playpen since just before his birthday, and although it's such a small thing, I call it a victory. I want him to watch over his brother, but I want him to have his own life too. I hope to hell I can find a way to balance those things out.

I know this isn't how you would do things, but…well…you're not here and I've had to figure out what works for us.

After the boys are asleep, I learn as much lore as I can, what monsters are the current threat and what works to destroy them.

That's my life now, Mary. You've been gone from us for almost six months, and I look forward to the day I can kill the damn demon who took you from us.

That's the day I'll stop, if I'm not already dead.

I went on my first hunt today. I had planned to wait until after Sammy's first birthday, but sometimes plans change. I know this better than most.

Daniel wanted me to cut my teeth on something relatively tame and close to home, so he contacted Caleb and me and had us look into a disturbing pattern that was emerging not far from us. I locked in on the pattern nearly immediately, finding the source about an hour away in the tiny town of Algona, Iowa.

There's only about 7000 people there, so you'd think it wouldn't be too much trouble, but apparently there's a house with a ghost problem.

Caleb and Jim assured me that, while you still have to be careful, ghosts aren't the worst thing to face, so I agreed to join the effort. This one had been a bit of a problem for some time, but nobody had detected the pattern until now.

Jim promised to stay and watch the boys so that I could rest assured nothing would happen to them.

We took Caleb's truck so we could make sure Jim had a working car if he needed it. He gave the Charger to a needy family whose only car had died a month ago.

The hunt went fine. We figured out who the ghost was and salted and burned the bones, and it all went off without a hitch. Caleb warned me that they are not usually that easy, but the hunt disturbed me in a way I didn't expect. Could this have happened to you, Mary?

Jim told me that ghosts are created when they have unfinished business or die by violent means.

Both of those are applied to the set of circumstances that took you from us. Do you haunt that house? Are you really not at peace like I had thought when we buried you?

God, I hope you're at peace. I don't think I could live with the knowledge that you aren't.

After we got back, I took a long hot shower and pulled on a pair of sweatpants and an old t-shirt. I spent the rest of the night nursing a single glass of whiskey and watching our boys sleep.

Dean was out, his little hand stretched towards his brother as always. Sam snuffled a few times, and Dean whispered it was all okay, and he settled down immediately.

I would give anything to be able to do that.

Sammy's first birthday is on Wednesday. I can tell that Dean's excited about it. The boy is still quiet as a mouse, except with Sam, but he's more animated today than I've seen in quite a while.

Hopefully, that means we'll get some more communication soon. I've really missed our little conversations. They were usually about ridiculous things, but it was such a comfort to come home from a long day at work and hear all about his day.

Sammy babbles on and off but really just seems to watch everyone and everything that happens. He's really a very happy baby and has been settling into life here at Jim's house.

He said his first word today. Of course, it was Dean, not Dad, but Dean. He reached his chubby little hands out toward his brother and just said his name clear as a bell. I guess that's to be expected considering how much time his brother spends with him. Dean swelled with pride at the moment and was still smiling after he fell asleep that night.

We've learned to salt the doors and windows to protect against ghosts and demons. I never realized that Jim was doing that every night after we went to bed. It never occurred to me to ask, and I'm embarrassed to say that I didn't really notice it with everything that's been going on in my life.

I thought back and tried to remember if you'd ever done that, but I honestly don't remember that at all. Were you protecting the family with some other charm or spell? Was I really that disconnected from you? It didn't feel that way at the time. The guys at the shop always told me how much they envied our relationship. I just figured they were jealous of my hot wife. So many questions and not enough answers yet.

I just don't know, and it's driving me crazy trying to figure it all out. Jim reminded me that it really doesn't matter one way or another.

Our lives are temporarily set on this course until something acts to change things.

I can't believe I'm about to say this, but Caleb took me to see a white witch yesterday morning. Her name was Magda, and she talked to me about protection for the boys. I have to admit I'm a bit cynical, but I'll do anything to protect them, Mary. Anything.

She gave me these little hex bags and told me to put them where the boys sleep, assuring me that they will keep them safe while they sleep. That's something I guess, but what about the other sixteen hours of the day?

If anything, it helped me to sleep better last night. Even the illusion that I've provided a modicum of safety for them eases my burden considerably.

Wednesday was finally here. Although, he spoke not a word, Dean's enthusiasm had been contagious.

He was really keyed up about his brother's birthday. It seemed a little odd, but I just figured he was still processing everything.

It's been exactly six months since we lost you, and yet it feels like only yesterday.

Dean dragged me from bed, and it was reminiscent of our first Christmas without you.

I trudged down the hall, barely awake, my bare feet scraping against the floor. At least I smelled coffee and that seemed to jolt me awake a little.

I collapsed into a chair at the table, and Dean climbed up into my lap unexpectedly.

Briefly, I flashed back to that night in the motel when I first told him about your death. He was curled in my lap the same way, and the memory put a block of ice in my belly.

Dean looked over at Sammy and his smile just about broke my heart. He dropped his head back onto my shoulder and sighed heavily.

"He made it, Dad, "he whispered hoarsely, and I had to strain to hear over the blood rushing through my ears.

I took another breath and softly asked as I laid a kiss on the top of his head, "What do mean, buddy?"

His green eyes shifted back and forth between Sammy and me, then he said again, his voice stronger this time, "Dad, Sammy made it to his first birthday. I didn't let anything get him."

My eyes closed, and the ice moved from my belly up into my throat.

"That's right, buddy. You protected your brother," I reassured him, holding him tighter to me, my lungs working overtime to steady my breath.

"Happy Birthday, Sammy," Dean told his brother with a big smile, before looking up at me with serious green eyes. "Hey, Dad?" he started, his eyes shifting in contemplation of his next words.

I waited, my breath trapped within my chest as sure as my heart was in my throat trying to shove past the block of ice currently residing there.

Looking down, I nodded in lieu of the words that couldn't get past my throat.

He looked at his brother and back at me, his grin sheepish and his eyes sparkling.

"I think Sammy wants pie for his birthday," he finished, and for the first time in a long time, that ice melted and took my heart with it to settle back in its rightful place.

Now that we've broken the silence, I think we're gonna be just fine, Mary.

The End