1Supershort update on this one especially after such a long time. The only thing I can say is I have other parts for this story in the works, but I these are the only ones that are full on done. Hope you like them.

Months after John has disappeared

He did want to call them. Tell them what was going on. But hell he didn't even know what was going. Was he any closer to finding the thing that had killed his beautiful Mary? Was he putting his children in danger still sending them on hunts while he was off looking for answers? Would they be safer with him? He missed seeing them. He missed Dean's lightning quick smiles and Becca's cute little laugh. He even missed going by Stanford and checking up on Sam. He was so proud of that boy. He was stubborn as hell, but damn if he wasn't just about the most independent kid John'd ever seen. And so smart. And now Sam had come back to the family and they were all together. Only he wasn't with them. He sat in his truck and looked over the pictures. Most of them were worn from years of being folded in an envelope. As the years grew, so did the stack of pictures. His children didn't even know most of them existed. Most had been taken when they were too young to remember or sleeping in the backseat of the car on the way to or from a hunt. Although his favorites varied from time to time, he couldn't get enough of the ones with all three of them. Little Dean showing Sammy how to hold Becca. The three of them eating pizza on the couch of whatever house they were squating in at the time. John laughed looking at Sam's hair in the picture. It growing in a little patchy ( thanks to one of his prank wars with his brother.) He sighed and folded the pictures, putting them back into the envelope and into the glove compartment once more. As he started the truck he wondered how he could have gotten through the day without those pictures. How he could have gotten through the day without seeing his children.

Dean- 13

Sam- 9

Becca- 4

Everyone knows the saying "It takes a village to raise a child." That was certainly true with the Winchester's. As much as John tried, he could have possibly taken care of his three on his own. Pastor Jim was one of the member's of the Winchester's "village." John often left the kids with him. If they were with him on Sunday mornings he would take the kids to church with him and afterward he would make them some of the best pancakes in the world.

"Can I get sugar?" Becca asked pointing to her pancake.

"Becca you already have sugar." Dean explained.

"I want more." She said.

"Becca," Jim smiled cutting up her pancakes for her. "If you have anymore sugar on your pancake it wont be breakfast. It'll be candy." She looked confused for a moment, but dug into to her food. "Sammy, would you like any sugar on your pancake."

"No thanks." Sam smiled weakly. He hadn't taken one bite. Instead he poked at it with his fork. After Dean and Becca had finished wolfing down their breakfast, Pastor Jim excused them to the living room to watch some television. He sat down at the table next to the middle Winchester.

"Is everything alright Sam." The boy nodded. "Are you sure, because it doesn't really seem like it."

Sam shrugged. "I don't know. I think...well I don't think I'm a good son."

"Why would you ever say that?" Jim asked.

"Well I was thinking about the stuff you said in church today. You know remember about honoring your parents and the stuff about a foolish son being a grief and a ruin to his parents." Sam lowered his head.

"Yeah, I remember." Pastor Jim said. "What does that have to do with you Sam?"

"It proves I'm a bad son." The boy said sadly. "I mean, Dad's always giving us order and he never has to tell Dean anything more than once. It's just that...I'm not trying to be bad when I ask questions, but it's hard to just do what he says sometimes. I wanna know why. Plus Dean's always saying that its stupid when I don't wanna miss school and stuff so I guess 'stupid' is close enough to 'foolish.' And from what you were talking about, that makes me a bad son. I want to be good like... I want to be good."

"Sammy I think I know what this is about." Jim sighed.

"I already told you." Sam said. "It's about me being a bad son."

"And what about Dean? Do you think he's a 'good' son?"

"Yeah." Sam said as if the answer was obvious. "He's always good. He listens to Dad and takes care of me and Becca sometimes."

Pastor Jim listened and was blown away by this nine year old. So often the man had heard people come to him blaming others for their own faults. Most children would have blamed their siblings for trying to be prefect and stealing all of the spotlight. Sam was free from jealously and simply blamed himself. As surprising as it was to hear, Sam had done nothing wrong. "Sammy, listen to me. You are not a bad son. Not in my eyes, your fathers or God's. It's a gift that you are so interested in learning. Don't ever think of it as foolish. And as for following orders, yes it is important to obey. In your life, following what your father tells you may save your life. And as for Dean, I'm sure he didn't always follow orders all the time. He's older and probably did the same things you did at your age. But also sometimes questions can be important too. We don't want you to follow everything blindly now do we?" For the first time that morning Sam looked up and smiled. "So do you want to join your brother and your sister in the living room?"

"Okay." Sam jumped up and headed for the living room. He made an abrupt stop and ran back in.

"Something wrong?" Jim asked.

Sam gave the man a hug. "Thanks Pastor Jim." He said and went into the living room. Maybe it did take a village to raise a child. And for that, Pastor Jim was extremely glad.