Shattered

Chapter 4

See previous chapters for disclaimer.

A/N: I promise; something is gonna happen. Really, it is! Thanks for sticking with me and I hope you enjoy this section.

oooOOOooo

Darkness of slumber and death, forever sinking and sinking - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

oooOOOooo

Dean drove directly to a motel and Sam went to the office to secure a room.

"What do you want to do?" Sam asked as they took their bags inside.

The older brother barely spoke on the drive from Omaha and didn't seem interested in talking much now. He glanced at Sam, looking somewhat embarrassed, and moved across the room from him. Dean couldn't explain it, but as much as he valued his brother's presence and needed to be near him, sometimes it hurt too much to be with him. He knew Sam wanted him to talk, but he couldn't explain things any better than he already had. But not only that, he was afraid if he started, the dam would break and he'd never be able to put it back together.

"Would you mind if I just took off for a while?" Dean asked quietly as he stared out of the window.

Sam didn't think that was such a good idea, but he knew it was nearly impossible to hold Dean anywhere he didn't want to be. He also knew, though, that Dean could almost never deny him anything he asked for. He thought about it for a moment, but didn't think the time had yet come to play that card.

"Of course not." he answered simply.

Dean pulled the keys from his pocket. He paused at the door. "You sure you'll be okay?"

"Don't worry. I have the book I bought – and the computer. I'll be fine."

"I'll be back in time to grab something for dinner. Do you need money? Or anything out of the car?"

Sam looked at him, somewhat concerned. "No, I'm good."

Dean seemed about to say something, but only nodded and opened the door. "I've got my phone, okay?"

"Dean –"

"I'll be back in a little while." he said and quickly left the room.

Sam moved to the window and watched as Dean walked the few feet to the Impala. He wasn't moving in the same self-assured way that Sam was used to seeing and that made him very sad.

Dean started the car, but hesitated before backing out of the parking space. He didn't have to look toward their room to know that Sam was watching him. And he didn't need to see the expression on his brother's face to know he was worried.

oooOOOooo

There was nothing in Lawrence that felt familiar. Not long after Mary's death, John took his boys and left town and Dean swore he would never come back. He didn't remember much about the night Mary died, but he remembered enough. He could still sometimes feel the heat of the fire on his four year old his face as he stood in the front yard with baby Sammy in his arms. He remembered seeing the bedroom window explode and if John hadn't run out of the house in that exact moment to grab the boys, they would have been hurt or worse.

Dean also remembered the arguments between his father and his former business partner, Mike. He and his wife took the broken family in, but once John started talking about how some thing killed Mary, their relationship deteriorated. Dean didn't understand what the fights were about, but he remembered being scared. He didn't know if his memory was true or not, but he had a vague recollection of John fighting with someone – maybe Mike – about the boys. It could easily just be one of the nightmares that plagued him for weeks after the fire, but Dean thought someone had tried to take him and Sammy away from their father. He never asked John about it, but he always wondered if that was why John loaded them into the car in the dead of night and never looked back.

After driving aimlessly for a little while, Dean found himself at the cemetery. When they came to visit Mary's grave not long after John's death, Dean had refused to move much past the car. He didn't want to understand why it was so important for Sam to visit a grave they both knew was empty. And even if it wasn't, their mother wasn't there. When they came to town last year, after Sam's premonitions about the family living in their old house, Mary appeared to them and apparently sacrificed herself to get rid of the poltergeist that had been harassing the young family.

Just like last time he was here, Dean leaned against the car and stared at the gravestone. This time, though, he forced himself to go forward and to stand near the stone. He set an unsteady hand on the top, feeling the cool marble on his skin. He could barely remember what his mother looked like, but he could remember the way she smelled. Even now, that memory was strong. He took a deep breath, almost hoping to catch the scent.

"Dean Winchester."

He jumped at the sound of his name and whirled around to see a short, black woman standing with her arms crossed over her chest.

"I knew I'd find you here." she said.

"Missouri –"

"Well? Come on, boy. Take me home where we can talk in private."

Not even thinking about it, and without a word, Dean followed her toward the Impala.

oooOOOooo

Missouri Mosley was a psychic and was the first person to introduce John to the supernatural world. As she explained to the boys when they first met the year before, she pulled the curtain aside for him. She didn't know what killed Mary, but she felt the evil still in the house when John took her there not long after the fire.

Dean drove to her house from memory, avoiding the route that would take them past the house where he spent his first four years. He wasn't sure if that was because of his first memories there, or because of what happened last year. Sam was almost killed and seeing his mother again….

Inside, Dean sat on the couch where Missouri indicated and she hung her purse on a coat tree. She didn't say a word to Dean, but came back to the living room a few minutes later with two mugs of hot chocolate. He took the one she handed to him and she sat down next to him.

"You knew we were coming." Dean said. It wasn't a question.

"I did." she said.

Dean took a sip of the cocoa and flinched. "You put whiskey in here?"

"Just a drop." she smiled at him sideways. "Or two."

"I'm sorry about your daddy." Missouri said after a few minutes of silence.

Dean nodded, not looking at her. "Thanks."

"It's not going very well, is it?"

"No. Not really."

"Not for your brother either."

"I know." Dean whispered. He was staring straight ahead and leaning forward, his elbows on his knees. He felt cold and the warmth of the mug in his hands was comforting. Holding the mug also kept his hands from shaking.

"It's time to go."

"Just a couple more minutes, Daddy! Please?"

"It's freezing out here, Dean." John laughed.

Dean jumped from the swing as John knelt down to adjust the hat on his little head. They walked to the car in the lot across the street from the park, John's hand resting lightly on his three-year old son's shoulder.

"Will Mommy be home when we get there?"

"No. Remember she's visiting her friend until tomorrow."

"Oh yeah." Dean said with an exaggerated nod. "It's just us men tonight. Hey! Can we get pizza?"

"Sure." John said. "And we can watch the movie Mommy got from the video store before she left."

Dean ran to the car. "Hurry, Daddy! We have to get the pizza!"

John laughed and hurried his step.

When they got home, he helped Dean out of the winter wear and set him at the kitchen table while he made some hot cocoa using Mary's recipe and tricks. When it was ready, he filled two mugs and joined his son at the table.

"This will warm you up."

"Marshmallows, Daddy!"

John smiled. "Oh yeah! How could I forget marshmallows?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Beats me."

"I'm sorry, Honey, I don't have any marshmallows."

Dean looked at Missouri, surprised. He'd never get used to her being able to get into his head that way.

"So." she took another sip from her mug before setting it on the coffee table in front of them. "Why did you decide to come back here?"

"I don't really know. It just seemed like the thing to do." he turned away. "And maybe I wanted to talk to you."

"What about?"

Dean shrugged, tears in his eyes. "I don't really know that, either."

Missouri was almost knocked over by the pain coming from Dean. She wanted to hug him, or at least put a hand on his arm, but she was sure he'd retreat and maybe not come back.

"You know, when Sammy was little, we'd have hot chocolate together."

Missouri waited for him to continue. It took a moment, but he did.

"It was usually when Dad was off on a hunt. Sometimes Sammy would have a hard time falling asleep when he was gone. Bedtime stories didn't always work, but hot chocolate usually did the trick. We'd sit at the kitchen table in whatever dump we were living in and we'd drink it and talk about all kinds of things."

"And now?"

Dean knew what she meant, but he didn't answer.

"He wants to help you, you know."

Missouri usually spoke to him with a little bit of attitude and her gentleness was welcome, but confusing. Dean nodded. "I know he does."

"You know you're both welcome here any time, but I think you need to be with your brother."

Dean looked at her suddenly. "Why did he do it, Missouri?"

She had been expecting the question and wanted to have an answer for him, but the truth was even with her abilities she didn't know John any better than anyone else did. When John died, Missouri had been asleep. She'd been up late the night before and allowed herself the rare luxury of a late morning in bed. She sat bolt up and knew, immediately, what had disturbed her sleep and what John had done. She wanted to talk to Sam and Dean, but she knew they would come to her eventually. They had other things to do first.

"Dean." Missouri took a deep breath. "I don't know why your daddy did what he did. I know what you're thinking; he made a deal with that thing that killed your momma. You're right about that, too. I don't know all the details, but I know you're right."

"Why would he do it?" Dean whispered, his voice shaking.

"Why, to save you. Just like when you were here last year and your momma did what she did? That's what parents do, Honey. They sacrifice for their children."

Dean blinked away the tears.

"I need, him, Missouri. I wasn't ready for him to die – and Sammy –"

"Oh Dean. We're never truly ready for someone we love to die. But your daddy thought this was the best way to –"

"He should have just let me die. It was my time, not his."

Missouri looked at him and this time, she did reach out for him. He tensed, but he didn't pull away.

"John Winchester was pig-headed and never thought anyone but him was right about anything." she said almost angrily. Dean glanced at her for a moment. "But there was one thing about him that no one could deny. He loved you and your brother. He made a lot of mistake raising you, but he loved you. He did what he did for you. Now, I don't know what all his reasons might have been, but I do know that."

Dean took a long sip of the cocoa, savoring the whiskey.

TBC