AN: Apologies for the delay. I wanted to get the ending perfect. This conclusion is, in part, thanks to a private review from snseriesfan. I had a sentence rolling in my head and their review helped me finish the story. See, reviews can help a story. Thanks for reading! WARNING AGAIN of child abuse.

Part 4

John entered the motel room tired and alone. In the end couldn't go to the authorities for help. He stood in the parking lot for over an hour trying to muster up enough courage but he just couldn't do it. If they searched his possessions at the motel room, how could he explain everything? The fake ? The weapons? And what if they did find his boys? They'd find Sam with a bruise on his cheek… no… he couldn't explain that. Not without telling the truth. He hit his boy, even if it was inadvertently. Social services would be called and he could lose them both. No, he couldn't chance that. It was too much of a risk.

He had moved away from the door only a few seconds when Dean fell inside. He was panting hard and his clothes were dark with sweat. "I know where he is," he leaned back on the door and tried to catch his breath.

John knelt in front of his boy and held Dean's shoulders shaking them slightly. "You know where Sammy is?"

"No… well yeah… but that's not what I'm talking about," Dean gasped for air. He didn't realise how far the motel was from the library. John searched his face for clues. "The case," Dean tried again. "The ghost you're searching for. His name is Robert Little."

John stood and turned away from him. "Dammit Dean, I know who he is," he yelled. "Every summer, he terrorises young mothers and newborns. I thought you were searching for Sam."

"I was… I did…," he finally caught his breath and stood away from the door. "I did find Sam."

John dropped his shoulders in relief. "Thank God," he breathed out heavily and asked where he was. Dean told him he was at the library but was reluctant to tell him which one. "You can never do that again, okay?" he demanded from his father. "You can never hurt Sammy like that."

"I know that, Dean. It was a mistake…"

"It doesn't matter," Dean interrupted. "Next time… I won't let you hurt him like that again." Dean narrowed his eyes. He may have been shorter than the man but his courage made him feel a lot stronger. "The next time you get drunk or you feel like you've drank too much… don't come home. I don't want Sammy to see you like that again. I don't care where you go. Just don't come back here."

John was a little taken back. When he told Dean to protect his little brother, he always wondered how far he would go. He never liked leaving them alone in a single locked motel room with only a shot gun for protection and when he was gone for more than a night, it terrified him. But seeing Dean stand up to him like this made him proud. He didn't have to worry about them anymore.

He tried to hide his smile. "Okay, you're right," he nodded. "Next time I'll sober up somewhere else. I promise," he held his hand over his heart. "There won't be a next time."

Dean nodded satisfied with the reply. He stepped over to his father's travel bag and pulled out a map, salted bullets and a box of matches. John placed his hand on the son's shoulder and asked what was he was doing. "Sam bumped into Emily Little at the library. She told us where her dad is buried so you can burn the bones and stop him from hurting people."

John noticed the sadness in Dean's eyes and he knew exactly what Emily had told them. Her father abused her and her mother every day. When her six month old brother wouldn't stop crying on Thursday, Robert shook him to be quiet. But he shook too hard and when Emily tried to stop him, he pushed her away too hard too. After her mother shot Robert, she couldn't live without her children and ended her life with a gun to the temple. But Robert's spirit still had unfinished business. He wanted to stop all newborns from crying. And his unwillingness to cross over trapped him and his family in an unending loop. The mother, baby and Emily were buried in the local graveyard but there were no record of where Robert was buried.

*SN*

Sam flinched when he saw his father again. He didn't mean to. It definitely wasn't intentional and he could see his father's face covered in hurt. Dean stepped between them and straight to his brother's side. Emily stood on the other side. It was as if they were forming a wall in front of Sam protecting him from his father. John stepped back and instantly retracted his arms that were intended for a hug. He suddenly realised it would take a while for his sons to trust him again. "Where's he buried?" John asked Emily as gently as he could. "Please," he added when the little girl looked to his boys for support.

They were standing in the back yard of her family home. The house used to be part of a row of beautifully decorated houses full of young families and after her bully of a father died everyone was free to leave which they quickly did. But this left the houses silent and derelict. A set of swings were heavy with ivy and a wooden slide was hard with moss. Emily raised her hand in front of her and pointed to a large horse chestnut tree. "He's under that," her voice was soft and weak. She hadn't been in the back garden in so long. She never played there when her father was home. She was always afraid she'd make too much noise and he would beat her because of it. Things were never easy at home. She knew her father loved her or at least that's what her mother told her. Before her brother was born, she had faint memories her father pushing her on a swing or holding her protectively as she slid down a slide. But then her brother arrived and her mother suffered complications. The arguments got louder and the beatings more frequent. Some days it was just easier to stay in the library all day.

John handed Dean the loaded shot gun. "He may appear when I start digging. I need you to protect me, okay son?" "Yes sir," Dean nodded locking the shot gun in place. John then looked to his younger son who was clutching the hand of his new friend. "Sammy, I need you to protect Emily. If Robert gets me and Dean, you'll be the last line of defence." "Yes sir," Sam replied. "No matter what, do not leave her side," he reiterated but he knew he didn't have to say anything at all. Sam wasn't the kind of person to walk away from someone who was in trouble. He wasn't like that. Neither of his boys were.

John grabbed the shovel from the boot of his Impala and headed for the large dead tree. He looked around out of habit but he didn't have to worry about being seen. There were no neighbours for miles. Thirty minutes of digging and he finally hit something. As he threw the shovel away, he felt dust fall on the back of his neck and heard Emily yelp. He popped his head out of his square hole to see Dean reload the shot gun and Sam protectively step in front of Emily. They all looked terrified. "Where is he?" John shouted at them. "Behind you," Dean yelled pointing the gun at his father's head. John ducked and felt the dust fall on the back of his neck again. "Tell me when you're low," he rolled out of the grave and reached into his bag for the canister of gasoline which he threw over the closed coffin. He didn't have time to open it and he didn't have time to light it either because as he placed his hand in his pocket, he felt a weight hit the back of his head.

Flicking open his eyes, he saw Robert Little knock the gun from Dean's hands. Just like John had ordered, Sam didn't move from his post. Not even when Robert knocked Dean to the ground. Sam still protected Emily from any danger. As the monster of a man headed towards Sam to take his daughter away, John reached inside his pocket and threw his lighter into the dark hole engulfing the coffin in flames. It only took a few seconds before the effects could be seen on the man's ghost and he screeched in pain as his bones turned to dust.

*SN*

Sam still held on tightly to Emily's hand as his father helped Dean to his feet. He felt a tug on his hand and turned to see what had grabbed Emily's undivided attention. To the right of the tree was a bright yellow light. If they weren't facing north, it looked like an ordinary sunrise. "Wow... that must be it," John said standing alongside Sam. Dean stood on the other side. Sam looked back to the light and then back to Emily. She had let go of his hand and was now facing him. She smiled gently and he couldn't help but smile back. "Thank you so much, Sam," she whispered and held him for a long hug. His eyes filled with tears and blurred his vision. "I don't want you to go," he pleaded with her.

"Damn it, Sammy. Stop it," Dean growled. Sam turned around in anger. His big brother didn't wait long to break his promise, he thought. But the words were suddenly stuck in his mouth. Using his sleeve, he rubbed the blur out his eyes and noticed Dean's face. Tears were dripping down his cheeks and his bottom lip was trembling. Sam was shocked. This was the first time he had ever seen his big brother cry. Maybe he had gotten injured when Robert Little knocked him down. But when he looked to his father, he was shocked even further. He was crying too!

They were both mesmerized by the light in front of them and it was only when Sam turned back to it that he realised why. Standing there holding a small bundle was Emily's mother. Her face was slightly blurred but they could make out her long blonde hair and from their distance, she looked strangely similar to their mother, Mary Winchester. It was then that Sam realised how selfish he was being because it wasn't just him that was feeling the pain of having no mother. The two standing beside him were feeling just as bad because they had memories to support their loss.

*SN*

John tried unsuccessfully to hide his tears from Sammy. The last thing he wanted to do was scare him but it was no use. As soon as he saw Emily's mother the tears began to flow. He didn't realise how much he missed Mary until that moment. The pain of losing someone was supposed to get better, wasn't it? At least that's what everyone told him would happen but seeing this woman brought all those feelings back again.

Emily's mother reached out her hand to her daughter and from the corner of his eye he could see Dean taking a step forward to follow. John placed his hand on the boy's shoulder to hold him back even though it took all of his strength not to run into the light with him.

As the visions disappeared into the light and the brightness began to fade, John could hear his son's sobs clearer. He ruffled his hand through Dean's hair affectionately and was about to do the same to Sam but realised he couldn't. Things were different now. He couldn't treat his youngest like a baby anymore.

*SN*

Dean tried to wipe his hand over his face and pretend the tears never existed but his face was still blotchy. His father ruffled his hair and Dean squirmed to get away but part of him loved it. The light eventually faded leaving them in darkness again. Dean looked over to his little brother. His face was just as blotchy as his. He didn't care what Sam thought of him. As long as he was allowed to call him Sammy, he was going to mother him and protect him as long as he could.

Sam turned to him and they shared a silent moment of gratitude. Before their father could move away from them to refill the open grave, Sam held him back by tugging his leather jacket. "Wait," he said through his hoarse throat. Their father dropped to a knee and was nearly knocked over by Sam's running hug. Dean wiped away an escaping tear and also ran towards his father.

John affectionately kissed them both and thought maybe he hadn't lost his boys after all.

*SN*