Disclaimer: I don't own anything Supernatural or whatnot, it is all property of the CW11 network. So don't sue and please don't be offended by the language cause it's gonna be colorful to say the least.
Chapter 13
The cool, January night air was ablaze with the roaring sounds of high powered aircraft engines and equally powerful male voices yelling and screaming out orders.
Newly promoted Corporal Samuel Winchester took a deep breath and let it out through his nostrils.
He stood tall and a picture of calmness, dressed in full combat gear. He was wearing a standard issue desert MARPAT Combat Utility uniform complete with helmet and combat boots. His obvious height of six foot four made him seem to tower over his fellow marines.
Held firmly in his hands was the signature M16 Firing Rifle, the principal weapon of the USMC Riflemen.
Corporal Sam Winchester and his platoon, along with several other platoons were shipping out for Iraq.
Tonight.
This was it, he was headed off to war, and it was uncertain if he'd return from the Middle East alive.
It was war after all, bullets would be flying and blood would be spilling over desert sands.
As Sam and the rest of the platoons got ready to board the mammoth carrier Jet that would be transporting them across the seas to the war torn country of Iraq, the youngest Winchester fervently hoped that the large yellow Manila Envelope in which he'd put the journal he'd kept throughout his basic training at Parris Island and a newly written letter to his father and brother was safely on it's way to Pastor Jim's mailbox in Blue Earth, Minnesota.
He'd sent it the day before yesterday.
The journal also had the many pictures that had been taken of him with everyone else on Family Day and Graduation, along with an official USMC Portrait photo of himself in his dress blues.
Now, United States Marines all dressed in their tan, desert MARPAT gear, slowly filed into one of the many Jets that would be transporting them to Iraq and took their seats side by side, all of them making sure that their rifles had the Safety firmly in place.
All of them were about to embark for their first tours of duty in the War of Terror.
As he took his seat with Greg Roginski and Mark Twombly flanking him on either side, Sam found himself silently beseeching God himself in his mind.
" Please God, watch over my Father and brother, keep them safe from the evil that I brought down upon my family. Please forgive me for my sins and watch over every single man who fights along side me. I ask no protection for myself and all I will ask for, is the strength to survive. Nothing else."
A small sigh escaped Sam as he sat and waited for all of the Marines to safely board the aircraft, the youngest Winchester's mind drifted to a far gone memory from his youth, a memory of him and Dean when they were still boys and Chick-flick moments were okay to have.
November 19, 1988.
On a chilly day just outside of Milwaukee, Wisconsin.
Five year old Sam Winchester let out a small sigh from where he sat in one of the large and lumpy couches, his little legs dangling off the floor in the livingroom of yet another motel.
John was off doing research for his latest hunting job, it appeared that an angry spirit was taking out it's frustrations on anyone unfortunate enough to venture into a local, abandoned building.
Sammy was watching Scooby Doo on the television when he heard a faint noise coming from the bedroom.
The five year old's mind immediately went to the only other person who was hear at the motel beside's him.
His big brother Dean.
The little five year old quickly switched the T.V. off and jumped off his perch on the couch.
He quietly made his way over to the partially open bedroom door, as he neared closer, the sound that had initially caught Sam's attention grew clearer, more defined.
Crying.
Someone was crying.
Dean was crying.
Being as careful as he could, Sam gently pushed the door open. The piece of wood quietly swung away to reveal the only other occupant of the motel room.
Nine year old Dean Winchester sat with his back to the door, his entire form haunched over and shaking with small sobs. Tears were streaming down his cheeks as he wiped futily at them.
He wanted something that was forever out of his reach, someone stolen from him five years earlier.
He wanted his mommy.
He wanted Mary Winchester.
" Deanie, whas wrong?" Came a small, confused voice from behind him.
Dean whirled around, his weepy green eyes meeting a pair of big, doe-like ones belonging to his baby brother who was standing in the doorway.
Dean turned away, not wanting to let his younger sibling see him crying.
" Go 'way Sammy. 'm fine." Croaked Dean.
Not deterred by his big brother's dismissal, the five year old quietly stepped into the room and hesitantly mad his way over to the bed his older sibling was sitting on. With a great deal of effort, the little boy hoisted himself onto the mattress, which was taller than he was. It was why Sam was now dangling from it, his little fist white-knuckled as they grasped the sheets.
Dean immediately turned around and grabbed his little brother by the straps of his jeans jumper and yanked him the rest of the way onto the bed.
Sam looked up at his brother's wet face with those big, puppy-dog eyes of his.
" Why're you cryin' Deanie?" He asked as one of his chubby little hands reached up to touch one of Dean's tear-stained cheeks.
Dean allowed his baby brother to clumisly wipe at his face with his little hands before with a small sigh he pulled away from Sam's touch and spoke.
" It's nothin Sammy, I'm just a little sad right now, I miss Mom."
" Why're you sad, you said mommy was an angel in Hevean, isn't she happy up there?" Asked Sammy as he and Dean sat facing each other on the mattress.
" Of course she's happy in Heaven, it's Heaven after all, I just miss her being here, she'd make me feel better." Sighed Dean.
Sam felt himself grow sad as he watched Dean sniffle and scrub at his cheeks with the back of his hand.
Then, the next thing Dean knew, he was being all but tackled by a five year old bundle of little baby brother.
" Don' worry Deanie, since Mommy's can' be here, I make ya feel bedder eh?" Grinned Sammy as he proceeded to squeeze his big brother in as big a bear-hug as he could.
Dean was silent, mostly just stunned my his baby brother's words before a huge, happy grin spread across the oldest Winchester boy's face as he wrapped his arms the little brother who was hugging him with all the might he could muster.
" Yeah Sammy, ya make me feel better. In fact, ya make me feel great."
The two Winchester brothers hugged each other tightly until Dean pounced on his baby brother and proceeded to tickle the smaller boy mercilessly.
" Eeeee, Deanie stop it, cut it out!!! " Squealed Sammy in delight as he tried futily to fight back, only trying half heartedly as he squirmed beneath Dean.
The two brother lay laughing, happy to just be with each other.
THUD!!!
Corporal Sam Winchester was shaken out of his memories by the sound of the Plane's entry door being slammed shut reverberating through the air and his ears, mingling with the echoes of the long since passed laughter of two little boys.
Everyone was aboard now, they'd be taking off any minute.
As he sat there, the plane began to move, slowly being driven by the Pilot down the airstrip until finally reaching the very start of the Runway.
There was a pause, everyone on board was silent as they waited.
After what seemed an endless amount of waiting with baited breath, the Plane began to move forward, slowly picking up speed until finally, the plane was rocketting down the runway at 180 miles per hour until finally, the front wheel left the asphault.
The Jet continued to move, basically doing a wheely with it's two remaining tires, taxiing until they too stopped touching the runway.
The Plane was airbourne, slowly rising further into the air on a maximum climb angle until finally leveling off and flying through the sky in true arial grace.
The Marines who were all on board began to cheer and yell, happy for the successful and safe take-off. All rejoiced, save for one marine.
From where he sat, Corporal Sam Winchester was silent and solemn, a single thought ran through his mind.
" You said I used to make you feel better, I used to make you feel great Dean. But now, all I seem to be able to do is make you feel hurt, all I seem to do is make you cry. I'm sorry for that Deanie. So sorry."
And so, with his mind and heart solely yearning for a big brother who was too far away for him to have, the youngest Winchester sat in grim anticipation, on a Jet filled with several other young and eager Marines.
Slowly, the giant Military Jet disappeared from the American horizon, it's destination far across the seas.
The aircraft carried men from all walks of life who were precious and loved by the families they belonged to.
Young men, elite warriors who were about to embark on a new and very dangerous, if not deadly chapter of their lives.
It was a chapter in life where no one's fate was certain.
It was a chapter that not every man would survive through.
The following morning at an oblivious Pastor's home in Blue Earth, Minnesota...
A pair of weathered eyes slowly fluttered opened, blinking away sleep as the light from a new morning streamed in through the windows of the bedroom.
Pastor James Murphy lay in bed, staring at the ceiling of his bedroom.
" I need to repaint this room." Grumbled Pastor Jim to himself as with a small grunt, he climbed out of bed.
The Pastor stood and stretched his limbs as far as he could, getting as many of the kinks out of his back and shoulders as he could.
He was still a little jet-lagged from his flight back from merry old England. He'd re-entered the United States two days ago, for those two day, he'd been totally wiped out.
The second he'd gotten home, he'd gotten all of the mail out of his jam-packed mailbox, dumped the many envelopes and one large yellow manila envelope onto his livingroom table and then all but collapsed onto his bed when he got upstairs and stayed there, only getting up for when nature called or his stomach made it clear that nourishment was needed.
He hadn't even stopped to check his answering machine for any messages.
The day after, he'd forced himself to go and get some much needed groceries and then collapsed again after eating a bowl of microwavable mac n' cheese.
This morning however, he was feeling better, much better.
It was a good thing too, because the day before yesterday he'd gotten a call from one John Winchester.
He and Dean would be here at noon.
The Pastor had noticed that John had only mentioned his first born son Dean and not his other boy. Jim naturally assumed that Sam was absent because the youngest Winchester had gone off to college, most likely against his father's wishes.
Pastor Jim had secretly felt pride in Sam, the boy had proven to him that he had a backbone by defying a strict, stubborn, and very controlling father like John Winchester.
With another sigh, Pastor Jim set off, going about his usual morning routine.
Once he'd emerged from the bathroom freshly showered, he set to work getting dressed in his usual Pastor's attire of a simple pair of black slacks and a button up shirt complete by a priest's collar.
Once he was done getting dressed, Pastor Jim headed downstairs to go start breakfast.
He wasn't Wolfgang Puck or anything when it came to cooking but, he could make a decent omelet.
Breakfast consisted of said omelet, two peices of toast, one spicy sausage, and black coffee with sugar.
" The breakfast of champions." Thought Jim with a small scoff as he cleared his kitchen table of his now empty plate and utensils, dumping it all into the sink to soak.
Taking a sip from his still half-full mug of coffee, Pastor Jim set to work on tidying up the place a little, he was having company over after all.
The two eldest Winchester's would be here in to two hours.
Jim set about straightening furniture and getting the vaccum out of the closet to take care of the carpets and other dusty places.
That all took up most of the two hours, leaving Pastor Jim with a few minutes to sort out everything else.
Pastor Jim was gathering up the pile of mail and roughly straightening them up when the large yellow Manila Envelope caught his attention.
As he held this particular peice of mail, he was preplexed to see that there was no return adress or the name of the sender.
What the envelope did have written on it was his own adress and in big, bold block-print letters was...
FOR DEAN AND DAD
Pastor Jim instantly new that this envelope was from Sam but, why didn't it have his name and a college adress on it.
However, Jim was broken from his confused pondering by the sound of a car horn blaring loudly from outside.
John and Dean Winchester had both just pulled up into his driveway.
The company Pastor Jim had been expecting was here