Part 11

John woke alone and in a bed he only remembered from what he thought was a dream. Dawn was peeking in through the window curtains and the sounds of a family drifted to him. It broke his heart. He hadn't heard those sounds in 20 years. A mother making breakfast and chiding a little boy to get ready and to hurry up and eat. Dean had been to preschool. John remembered those mornings, foggily. It wasn't the first time he regretted not paying more attention to those mundane days of Mary getting up to get Dean up, to get breakfast ready, to get the baby changed.

Slipping out of bed, he washed up and followed the noise. Jack ate in silence. Liz dumped another spoonful of oatmeal into the bowl and made a noise that sounded like 'keep eating' but her mouth was full of toast. She smiled at him and waved to the table and the coffee pot. John took another moment to soak it all in before crossing the room to get at that coffee.

Liz kissed his mouth lightly the second he put the mug down. "Morning."

"Morning." He grumbled and found a seat next to his grandson. His grandson. Miniature Dean. Even had the same table manners. "Napkin, Jack."

"Yessir." He mumbled around his mouthful but dutifully picked up his napkin to wipe his face.

John sipped his coffee and watched the boy. The nose was softer than a Winchester's but it suited his face. Watched the boy smile at his mother and finish his breakfast. "What's next?"

"Teeth." Jack tossed out immediately.

"I see. When Pop's here, then you're a good little soldier." Liz called after the boy when he ran to get his teeth brushed.

"Don't call him that." John blurted out.

"It's a nickname, John. You and Dean already went to blows over it. I know. It's a nickname." She reassured him. "No hunting, no demons, no ghosts, no aliens. I know."

Aliens. He almost said it out loud. Was it a joke? Was it a code? There were no such thing as aliens. John drained his cup and went to pour himself another but Liz was pouring out the pot. "What?"

"It's not good for you to have so much."

"You gonna take away my burgers too?"

"You bet." Liz turned when Jack slid into the room. She kissed his head. "No fights, no detention and no alien graffiti."

"I know, I know."

"Jack." John cleared his throat.

"Yes ma'am." Jack sighed and grabbed his book bag to catch the bus that was just pulling up.

They existed in silence while Liz cleaned up breakfast. John didn't know what to do. Didn't know what he was supposed to know. "Your friends been up?"

"Why do you always call them that? You know their names." Liz scoffed as she put the last of the dishes in the dishwasher. She took a deep breath. "They were here for about a week after you took off on me that last night. I'm not going to argue with you about it but I just want it noted that I feel you ran off on me." She turned to face him and he nodded that it was her right to feel that way. "Maria's girl is so tall. She's dating already, if you can believe that."

"She's… twelve."

"I know. Michael's pulled most of his hair out. Max spoils her rotten, of course."

"Max was here?"

"Don't start." Liz groaned and crossed to straddle his lap. "You know how it goes. I tell you. I always have. He shows up with them. We have fun catching up and we stare at each other. We don't talk. We don't work out any issues. We just stare at each other. He's starting to spoil Jack, though."

"Yeah?"

"Bought him a rifle. Remington. Jack gave it back."

"Well, the boy knows his last name." John managed a grin. Liz kissed his lips softly. "He wants you back."

"No. We burned that bridge already." She shrugged and sat there, fiddling with his dog tags. "John… That was a long time ago. It wasn't him. It wasn't me. It was us and it didn't work." They didn't talk about Dean. Not about the relationship and the before. "I've had you for most of Jack's life." She met his eyes. "I'm not looking to trade you in. Maybe you've got a few miles on you but… you're not falling apart just yet. If anything…" she kissed him softly. "You've managed to stay exactly as you've been for the last fifteen years."

"You're putting me on." He tried to hide his unease at her comments. If anyone in this world would know that John wasn't attuned to what was going on, it would be her. If he managed to fool her this long, he was damn lucky.

"John, you're the best looking 65 year old that I have ever seen." She bit her lip and took a deep breath. "I have to tell you something and it's going to scare the crap out of you but I need you to know." She laid a hand on his chest. "About five months ago… Jack had a bad dream. He woke up terrified and he thought that you were dead. He had me convinced of it for about a week. I heard that you were prowling around from the new girl at the motel. I got worried when you didn't come by. I was really relieved a few months later when I saw you up there. I was really afraid his dream had come true."

"Do his dreams come true?"

"They haven't before but with his other powers and my visions sometimes…" She sat back to see him better. "John… did you… almost die?"

"It's easier to ask me when that doesn't happen."

"It's not funny. I'm being serious." She gripped his shoulders, hard. "What if he saw you almost die? I talked him out of it pretty easily but the next time will be harder and I had my doubts the entire time you were gone."

"Liz."

"John, we lost Dean to the hunt. I won't lose you, too."

He met her worried eyes and didn't know what to say to make her feel better. He'd never had to have this conversation with anyone before. "You should get to work."

"This isn't over." Liz shoved him back as she got to her feet.

John sat there and mulled over everything. He was crazy. That had to be it. He'd had a psychotic break and this was the beginning of the end. Gathering his belongings, he headed for the woods. He marked trees with his knife along the way. He had to find out how to stop it. How to take his knowledge and best apply it to the world he knew. Werewolves were easy. Silver bullet. Job was done.

Emerging from the woods, he backtracked to his truck, which was just where he'd left it only now it was wearing a tow sticker and a boot. Cursing, he marched himself back to the damned motel and didn't bother knocking when he got to the room he always rented. He dumped his shit on the ground and walked right back out. Of all the things he could have walked into, it had to be that. He was tired and hungry and he needed a shower because he smelled like Liz. Even under all the sweat and dirt and woods, he smelled like Liz. Like 36 year old Liz had been all over him and she had been. 21 year old Liz was currently all over Dean. As it should be.

Whipping out his cell phone, he called Jefferson. "Hear of any werewolf activity?"

"Not in years, John. Sent you after the last one I did hear about."

"Keep an ear out."

"You on to something? I can always use the clues."

"Just a rumor. Probably drunks."

"Aren't they always? I'll keep you in mind for hunts. Almost seems like activity is winding down."

"It usually winds itself back up. Give me a call on anything you need help with."

"Shut up!" John heard from behind him. "No! I'm mortified!"

John cleared his throat. "I'll be in touch, Jefferson."

"Yeah. Tell Dean I got a new glock in. He'll love it."

"He'll never trade off that talisman, Jeff."

"I can keep trying."

John laughed as the call disconnected. Dean popped out of the room as if nothing had happened, as if his hair was not standing on end. "So, what? You just got here?"

"Yeah."

"Talked to Caleb. Said you headed this way a few days ago. Thought you'd beat me here."

"Caleb smokes too much pot."

"He still does that? I told him that it would shrink his sink." Dean shook his head. "So… um… Liz isn't coming out of the room ever again cause you saw… cause you saw what you saw."

"It's called a lock, Dean." John took a deep breath. "I'm tired and I want a bed… so… something's gotta give in the next ten minutes."

"Okay. I'll pass the message."

Once more, John was alone on the landing. Every time he shut his eyes, he either saw Liz as she leaned in to kiss his mouth or he saw Liz as she arched her back on top of Dean. Where was his flask when he needed it? In his bag, empty. He needed a clear head anyway. There was a lot of research to do and he had to do the math. If Jack had been 10 years old, when was he born? How far off was that? How long did he have to save his son?

"Fine." Liz's voice reached John's ear. Cleaned up, the two made their way down the walkway past John. "Welcome home, John."

John nodded to the whisper and retreated to the room which had been opened up to clear the smell. Hitting his bed, he tried to put the pieces together. He could find the werewolf and kill it ahead of schedule and save everyone a whole lot of grief. How did he find a werewolf that wouldn't attack for three years?

TBC