The Towers

Synopsis: Pre-series. Dean and John are working separate hunts in New York when the unthinkable happens. It wasn't supposed to happen like this; it was supposed to be an easy hunt.

Setting: This story is set mutually in Palo Alto California; but mainly in NYC on September 11th 2001. Pre-series.

Disclaimer: Supernatural and all of their associated content belong to Eric Kripke and the CW, I own nothing of the sort.

A/N: This may contain some material that some readers find sensitive and it is pre-series AU. I am AWARE that there were NO FLIGHTS for the rest of the day and the days following 9/11 but this story is AU as I have said. Reviews Appreciated! Had to re-post this chapter because someone amazing pointed out that my times were different with California and NewYork! So please don't be confused when reading as California is 3 hours different from NewYork!

"The full horror of what has happened in the United States earlier today is now becoming clearer. It is hard even to contemplate the utter carnage and terror which has engulfed so many innocent people. We've offered President Bush and the American people our solidarity, our profound sympathy, and our prayers. But it is plain that citizens of many countries round the world, including Britain, will have been caught up in this terror. "
-British Prime Minister Tony Blair, Interview, September 11, 2001.

12:32 PM, September 11th, 2001

John walked around the hospital's corridors in stunned silence.

He'd been to over 4 hospitals and none of them had any information on his son.

Bellevue was ultimately his last place to check…if his son wasn't here….

John didn't even want to think about the implications of his thoughts.

Dean was alive he had to be!

He glanced around in sadness as he noticed the many "Missing" posters that were stuck all over the walls and the faces of the poor souls on them.

"What am I thinking?" he asked aloud

His son was one of those poor souls.

"Coffee?" Asked a voice from behind him.

"What?" He said as he turned around.

"I have an extra cup of coffee," the elderly woman motioned, "I was wondering if you would like it. You look like you could use some."

"Yes, Thanks." John told her as he gratefully accepted the beverage.

"My name is Grace." The woman told him "I'm just here helping out however I can, my son was killed in the attack this morning."

"I'm sorry." John told her as he really looked at her for the first time, "I'm just…waiting on word for my son. I've been told he was on the news being rushed from the scene."

The old woman nodded in sympathy, "It's a rough time for our Nation, that's for sure."

"I don't mean to be so rude in asking this ma'am, but…how can you be so brave on a day like today?" he asked

"Well son, there's no use sitting around and crying when people need help. My son worked on the 42nd floor of the north tower, he called me before the collapse and asked me to be strong regardless of the outcome. I'll tell you right now, it's not easy, but all we can do is reach out and offer help wherever it's needed."

John nodded in agreement. "Thank You," he told her, "For just…ya know talking. It's appreciated."

The woman shook her head sadly as she glanced around at many of the 'Missing' posters, "What's sad son, is all of these people who won't be with their families anymore. Fathers, Mothers, Children, they were all somebody to someone."

"Now what did you say your sons name was?" asked the woman.

"I didn't," John told her, "But his name is Dean, and my name is John."

"John," she repeated, "That's a nice American name."

"I still can't believe that someone could be so cruel as to plan an attack like this on our country with no regard for the lives they'd be taking," she fumed

"What do you mean?" John asked, in all the frenzy in trying to locate Dean he hadn't been able to watch anymore of the news and he hadn't thought to try listening to the radio.

"Dear…" she told him, "They believe that this was a terrorist attack."

"WHAT?" John yelled, suddenly feeling his knees go weak.

"My son…was…by terrorists?" He was in absolute disbelief.

John had a very difficult time coming to terms with the fact that people had done this. And worse, he had a hard time coming to terms with the fact that Dean was caught in the middle!

They faced all different kinds of evil from Satanists, werewolves, spirits, and even vampires, but John had never seen such a cruel act, spawned from human nature.

"I'm sorry." She apologized, "I figured that word would've gotten around by now."

"I..this is the first I've heard of it." John told her

"Are you sure your son is at this hospital?" she asked him, desperately trying to change the subject for the man's sake.

"It's the last one," he whispered.

"The what?" she asked, having a difficult time understanding what he was saying.

"This is the last hospital that they've been taking victims to that I haven't checked," he told her.

"Have you talked to anyone?" she asked.

"I've tried, but everyone is so busy telling me to put my name here and there and offering their condolences, but DAMNIT, my son is NOT DEAD!" he yelled.

"Shh…come now dear," she told him as she led him by the arm.

"Where are we going?" he asked her.

She looked him right in the eye as she spoke, "We sir, are going to get some information about your son!"

She pulled him right through the anxious families and up to the front desk where nurses were scrambling to answer phones and hand out information sheets.

"Excuse me?" Grace asked politely, when no attention was paid to her she raised her voice up an octave, "Excuse ME!"

One of the nurses at the desk quickly walked over, "What can I help you with?" she asked Grace.

"This man is looking for his son." Grace told her pointedly

"Have you talked to anyone yet?" The nurse asked as she turned to John.

"Yes, I've talked to people but they just keep giving me identification forms and I've filled them out but no one has come out to help in any way!" he told her.

"I see, well let's get some information so I can do a quick check," she began.

"Was your son a pedestrian? A firefighter? Or Port Authority?" she asked.

"My son is a firefighter, his name is Dean Winchester." he told her.

"Wait, Winchester?" she asked.

John nodded his head yes. The nurse walked away leaving both John and Grace stunned.

"What the…" he began, but he saw the nurse walking back towards them carrying a large, blood spattered turn-out coat.

"Does this…" she started, turning the coat to the back so they could all see, "Look like your son's Jacket?"

John could've sworn that his jaw fell clean off his face as he looked at the reflective lettering that clearly stated 'WINCHESTER' in large capital letters.

"Yes." He felt tears come to his eyes for what had to be the third time on this day.

Sam glanced at the clock radio, it read '10:24 AM'. He'd been driving for a little over two hours, hoping to make it to West Point by 12:00 PM.

All commercial flights going to or coming from anywhere within the continental United States were being grounded, so Sam had called a friend in West Point and his friend had agreed to get Sam as far as Desabo, a small town just outside of Sioux Falls, South Dakota, where he would be meeting Bobby Singer, Jim Murphy, Caleb and Mackland Ames.

From there they would be taking Mackland's Ford Explorer to New York. It wasn't as soon as he'd have liked to be there, but considering that all flights were technically grounded, he wasn't going to complain.

He really hoped that his father had found out more information about his brother.

As he was driving, all the guilt from the past eight months came back with a vengeance.

He remembered the last night he had seen his brother.

"No, Dad, I'm going! I cannot STAND this life anymore! I am not your perfect little soldier like Dean! He follows you blindly, I'd be surprised if he even had a mind of his own!" yelled Sam, unaware that Dean was standing in the doorway behind him.

"Samuel Winchester! If you walk out that door, don't bother coming back." John yelled, not really meaning it but at the time his anger seemed appropriate.

"That's what I've wanted for my entire life, Dad! This life is not for me! Moving from school to school? I'm amazed I actually passed and made it into Stanford, this is the best thing that's ever happened to me, why can't you accept it?"

John just walked away from his son, who continued to grab his duffle and plane tickets he had purchased without the knowledge of his father or brother.

"I'll be gone before you miss me." Sam yelled as he turned around, realizing for the first time that Dean had returned from grabbing dinner.

Dean dropped the bags of food he was carrying and he turned on his heels, walking out of the room, not really sure where he was going but 'Away' seemed appropriate at a time like this.

"Dean!" Sam yelled, immediately wondering how much his brother had heard?

Sam ran as quickly as he could to catch up with his older brother, "Dean!" he yelled again as he finally caught up.

Dean was sitting in the Impala, just starting the engine.

"Where are you going, Dean?" Sam asked him, hoping for a chance to explain before his taxi arrived.

"Oh, don't worry, I'll think of a place." Dean told him through clenched teeth, "Contrary to popular belief, my mind is my own," he finished as he slammed his baby in reverse and roared out of the parking lot.

That was the last time Sam has spoken to his brother and he desperately hoped that he was forgiven.

He hoped Dean would realize that he didn't mean those words, they were said in a time of anger.

Sam didn't even realize he was close to West Point until he saw the sign on the left that read 'Next Exit: West Point, 2 Miles'.

"Thank God," he thought aloud, the sooner he could get to his brother, the better.

He had to tell Dean he was sorry. If Dean had…

Sam didn't allow himself to think beyond that, that his big brother was dead.

It wasn't possible. Dean was there for him, always.

He couldn't imagine not having Dean around. The last few months had been hard without Dean but Sam had always known that his brother was okay from calls with Bobby and Caleb.

In recent months things had gotten hectic for Sam and Bobby had stopped expecting his calls.

But when Sam called the older man, he heard Bobby break down in tears as he told him about Dean.

Bobby had told Sam that Jim, Caleb, and Mackland had just finished a local hunt and were at his house for some beers before going their separate ways. But with everything that'd happened they all agreed that they needed to get their asses to New York.

Sitting on the plane as it took off, Sam had only one thought, "Please hang on Dean."

*Reviews = LOVE! I'm trying to be sensitive with this ENTIRE story and get my facts straight so please correct me if I've done something wrong or not to your satisfaction! And Thank you So Much to Merisha for being my beta!