God hates a quitter.
Gen. Samuel Fessenden
Lost and Lonely
Sean's pov…
My dreams had been tortured. The last hunt really took its toll on me. My physical wounds had finally healed, but I was an emotional wreck. Dad never really came down on me about the run-in with the law, but with my injuries there wasn't much he could do. He did corner me and lecture incessantly about covering my tracks and I received lots of research training since I was physically unable to do any other training. But considering my screw up, I thought I had gotten off lightly.
The school I was in now wasn't too bad. My teacher seemed nice, but my favorite class was keyboarding. Sam had taught me to type a couple of years ago and I did okay so it was just practice for me. But the best part was the teacher; Mr. St. James played classic rock during class. The other kids didn't like it, but we had a competition on who could name the song and or artist first. He couldn't believe how well I knew the music. I loved going to the class; it was a nice reprieve from my life.
One day after school I decide to walk out a different door that took me past the band room. I could hear an electric guitar and that piqued my interest so I looked in the room. Inside was Mr. St. James playing Deep Purple's 'Smoke on the Water.' I had been working on that one myself so I slid in the room as quietly as I could. When he finished the song Mr. St. James asked me if I was interested in playing. I told him about my brief career and showed what I could do. He was fairly impressed with my skills. He told me he wasn't a band teacher, but he usually played on Monday, Wednesday and Friday after school and I was more than welcome to join him. I enthusiastically nodded yes, that I would love to join him.
Dad had been very preoccupied with his current project and hadn't been around much. Dean was in and out with him, but was around some of the time. Dad had seriously considered dropping me off at Pastor Jim's but it ended up being just too far out of the way. I was spending quite a bit of time alone and I was getting a little depressed about it. My nights were starting to really get me down and I so wanted my dad home with me. Sleep wasn't coming easily and I was getting worn down by it. Remnants from the last hunt still haunted me. I couldn't close my eyes and make it go away.
One night I was really thrashing around when I woke up with a start. I looked over and Dean's bed was empty and I knew my dad was still out as well. I went to get up and get a drink and felt something in my hand. I stumbled into the bathroom and turned on the light and saw that I was holding a small dream catcher attached to a cord. Could this possibly be a gift from my native friend who helped steer me in the right direction in Franklin? How did these material items keep popping into my life? It didn't matter to me at this point; I would take any offer of help. I just wanted it to work regardless of where it came from. I placed it around my neck and flopped back into bed.
That day after school Mr. St. James and I jammed for an hour and then he drove me home. The car was sitting in front of the house, but I knew nobody was home. My teacher was immediately drawn to the Impala.
"Wow, she's a beauty. What year, '68?"
"No, '67. It was my dad's but he pretty much gave in to my brother."
"He is a lucky boy; you rarely see these around, especially in this condition. How about I walk you in and meet your dad and brother."
"They're not here, they are out working," I answered.
"Oh, well I've been wanting to order a pizza all week, how about I do it tonight?" he asked.
I debated for a moment, but I knew we didn't have much food in the house so I agreed that a pizza sounded great. We went inside and he pulled out his cell phone to place the order. I put my stuff away and pulled my phone out of my backpack and set it on the table just as it began to ring. Forgetting my guest I put it on speaker so I could take my guitar out and check it over.
"Hello."
"What's up buddy? How was school?" my dad asked, his voice sounding a little tinny from the speaker.
"Fine, when will you be home? I would really like to see you tonight; you've hardly been around at all," I said with true sadness in my voice.
"I know, we both plan to be there in the morning when you wake up. I will check on you when I get home, I promise."
"Why can't you come home tonight so I can see you? I have something to show you," I said, my voice was beginning to sound whiney.
"Don't whine, Sean, I have put a lot of work put into tracking this creature and I need to be here tonight. I will be home in the morning, alright?"
"Do I have a choice, no, of course not, I don't ever have a choice now, do I?" I said with my voice tight.
"Watch the attitude son, or you might not want to see me in the morning. Get your homework done and get to bed early. I will see you soon. Understood?"
"Yes sir," I replied like the good soldier I had been trained to be.
I soon realized my mistake and starting making silly excuses for the conversation. Mr. St. James stood there and smiled at me.
"Was your dad ever in the service?"
"The Marines, once a Marine always a Marine," I said rolling my eyes.
"You don't have to make excuses, I know who you are and I know what your family does."
I stood there motionless, not knowing what to do or to say. He instantly told me not be concerned or afraid. It didn't help; I was still frozen.
"Sean, first believe me, I am not here to hurt you. We are connected in some way; let me explain it to you. When I was 20 years old, I felt life was pointless, that I had nothing to offer anybody or the world. I had lost all hope, and so late on August 31, 1994, I slit my wrists, but as I lay there bleeding, a sudden sense of hope came over me. All of a sudden I felt as if I had a purpose. At 11:59 the bleeding stopped, my cuts just clotted. I saw a light and thought maybe it was my time after all, but when I looked closer I could see it was a large light like those placed in surgical suites in hospitals. Then I saw you and knew one day we would meet."
"Okay, what are you saying? Because of me you have a purpose. What is the purpose, how do you even know me? How did you see me?"
"I know that your family hunts the supernatural, I know of your mother's abilities and how worried she was for you. I know your father and brothers: John EricWinchester, Dean Patrick Winchester, Samuel John Winchester and you, Sean Michael Winchester. Your mother was Sarah Eileen MacGregor, with ancestry in both Scotland and Ireland. Did you know that your mother was very close to naming you Sean David, the David being for David and Goliath, since she knew you would always be the underdog in all your fights?."
"What else do you know about her? Why did she have me? She knew her child would have the same horrible affliction she suffered with, why did she want to pass that along? You don't have a child like me and then not be around to help explain things, not be around to help! How could she do that to me?" I yelled, my voice full of angst.
"She didn't want to have children. It was no mistake who your parents are. Your mom had a tubal ligation; do you know what that is?"
I nodded yes.
"She also was on a high dose birth control pill; the chances of her getting pregnant were beyond zero. But as we know it happened and it happened with John. She provided the way he provided the means. You were the sum of a very powerful force."
"You're saying I was meant to be, they had no control over it?"
"Well, I suppose they had some control, but the rest was written in the stars or even beyond. Your mother was very concerned for your wellbeing, she knew what you would be facing, but she knew that you were meant for this world, that you were needed and would be a savior for so many."
"Whoa, don't call me a savior, I'm not a savior. I don't want to be saddled with that responsibility, I never asked for that."
"You've saved many people, what else can you be called?"
"I don't like where this is going. I wasn't sent here by anyone and I'm not a savior. You make me sound like I'm the second coming and I'm just a boy, a kid with some freaky abilities, that happened to be born to a freaky family."
"Some coincidence, huh?"
The doorbell rang indicating the pizza was here. We ate in silence as I mulled over what I had been told. I saw the scars on his wrists and a chill went down my spine.
"How did you know about my middle name almost being David? My dad hadn't even told me about that. I read in once in my mom's journal that he keeps in his bag."
"How much of the journal have you seen?"
"Not much, I'm not allowed to go into Dad's stuff. If he caught me, my butt would be purple."
He chuckled and told me, "She decided to go with Michael, hoping that the archangel would always be near you. And you know what, I think he is. I think he stays very close to you, watching out for you."
I thought of some close calls in the past and did wonder if I had a guardian angel. "So do you know a lot of stuff about the supernatural and what I've been through? I mean can you tell me, if there had been a dog on a hunt, if it was there to help me?"
"Yes, it was, and help you it did. Guardians can come in all shapes, sizes and breeds. You have a fan club."
"Why didn't my ancestors come help me?"
"They are somewhat limited; it is in their heart, but not always within their resources."
"My big question is why, why me? I had one minute of innocence and then watched my mother die, and things surely didn't get any better for me. I feel like I'm sleeping with the dead and they won't leave me alone. It makes me wonder if I'm even alive. Sometimes I don't even care anymore, it's like happiness is a heartbeat away but I know I will never reach it," I said thoughtfully.
"They have hope in their eyes, those who are alive and those who are already dead, and that hope is you."
"I don't want the responsibility of being anyone's hope; I'm 10 years old for God's sake. The world will never be what I expect so how can the world place such high expectations on me? Sometimes I feel like I can't hang on, that I'm slipping away. I feel like I'm in a living hell, am I even alive am I human?"
"You are very much alive and very human, I can promise you that."
"What if I can't hang on? I feel like someone is always screaming my name and I just don't want to hear it anymore."
"You can always show the way, you are the light."
"I am the dark and the light," I was just as surprised as my teacher as the words just spilled out of my mouth.
He looked at me puzzled, I couldn't explain any more to him as I didn't understand it myself. I was exhausted and hadn't realized how late it had gotten; it was a few minutes after midnight.
"So much for me going to bed early. I guess I disobeyed that order. Can you tell me why I have been receiving material objects from unknown sources? How can that happen? It happened once before as I pulled out my Key of Solomon necklace, but recently it has happened more and more. This was the latest thing," I said as I showed him my new dream catcher.
"Things are escalating, you are gaining strength as you mature and new doors will open to you. Does the dream catcher work?"
"I'm not sure; I guess I should go try it out. I know my dad will have me up early."
"I'm sorry I stayed so late. I'll see you tomorrow," Mr. St. James said as he headed for the door.
I reached for the knob to open the door when I was face to face with my dad. I looked up into his hardened brown eyes and realized I was a dead man standing.
After several what the hell's and who are you and many explanations we were again sitting around the table. We told Dad and Dean the whole story and Dad was somewhat skeptical but couldn't see any other way around the man's knowledge. Finally, around 1:30 we were alone. I slipped off to get my p.j.'s on and found Dad sitting in the middle of my bed.
"We will be having a long talk tomorrow. I will wake you up and you can start your day off with a nice long run. Then we will explore what happened tonight."
"Yes sir," I responded.
The next morning I was running lap after lap on the outdoor track as Dad was reading and highlighting things in some ancient book. I was nearly dead on my feet and as I passed him, I begged him to let me stop. He shouted out one more at a slow jog. I finally finished and collapsed next to him on the bleachers.
"You ready to talk to me?" he demanded as he closed up his book.
"What do you want to know?" I asked breathlessly.
"I want details of what was said, who he is and what does he know about us? I know you didn't tell me everything last night. I want it all and I want it now." His words were said with a force that made me resent my situation even more than I had last night.
Just as I was about to open my mouth, Mr. St. James came around the corner. He sat down and began to talk, giving me the break I had so desired.
"I can help explain the wonder that is your son. You know more than you let on to him, but he needs to know how special he is."
"Why are you here, who are you, who sent you?" my dad demanded eyeing my teacher suspiciously.
"I am here for a reason; I'm not clear just yet on specifically what it is. I feel he will be facing a great challenge soon. I just want to help him through it."
I was becoming agitated with all this talk of my powers and my future. I jumped up and was pacing trying to hold in my fear and rage
"What is wrong?" my dad asked.
"You don't understand what power is, if you only knew all that I know…. I'm through, through, through, I don't want this life anymore. I can't do it! I'm just a puppet in somebody's sick game and I'm tired of it."
Having purged, myself I ran off and climbed in the truck and locked the doors. Dad and Mr. St. James just sat there looking stunned. Tears were pouring down my face and I was worn out. I know Dad would be pissed about my defeatist attitude, but he just didn't understand what I went through every day and night.
I wasn't sure how much time had gone by before I heard knocking on the window. I looked up and saw my dad unlocking the door. He climbed in and reached for me. I flinched and he looked at me in a surprised manner.
"Buddy, it's okay. I'm sorry, I'm sorry that you feel so helpless and frustrated. I'm sorry that I haven't seen the desperation that you've felt. That I abandoned you when you needed me."
"I'm just so tired daddy, I feel like I can't go on. That I just want to sleep forever," I mumbled. I hadn't called him daddy since I was 5.
"We'll go home and just relax and talk or whatever you want. It will be okay," he promised.
We did go home and talked, played games and watched TV. During the week Dad tried to nurse me back to emotional health, I pretended to feel better, but I was really feeling just as anxious as before. I just couldn't go on, not anymore. I was damaged and I knew I would never completely heal. I couldn't even be honest inside anymore and I couldn't keep holding on. I also knew that an opportunity was near that I could take full advantage of. I hated the thought of leaving my family. I needed to get away from myself and this was the only way I knew how to do it. I did truly love them with all my heart, but my wings were broken and I could fly no more.
Dad couldn't stall the hunt any longer. This was a tough one as he wasn't sure exactly what he was hunting. I knew he would call on me and my senses to help.
We headed out to the woods in the late afternoon. Dad had me get the feel of the land and work on some weapons training. As the sun was setting and darkness was coming, I could feel my future slipping away and I was ready for it to end.
"Let's head towards the tree line," Dad said to Dean and me.
We both followed him, carrying items that would be needed. Dean kept looking at me with emotion in his eyes and asking me if I was alright. I would assure him that it was no more than fatigue. We stopped at the spot where Dad wanted to set up. He and Dean immediately began to unpack the necessities. I quietly moved several yards away and began to scout out what I was looking for even though I was unsure exactly what that was.
It didn't take long before I sensed a presence, but it wasn't as dark as I thought. I had no doubt that it was responsible for death and destruction but I also perceived compassion, not what I was looking for, but as they say beggars can't be choosers. In fact, I knew of this demon and he of me, we had met previously at a bed and breakfast when I was 8. After doing some research and getting answers from my grandfather I discovered this demon had been around my family for centuries. He moved from Scotland to the States with my mother and had popped into her life as he finally did into mine. I guess you could almost say we had a relationship with each other. He is not the one I wanted to give satisfaction to, but I had to follow through with my plan.
"Someone's screaming my name, but I certainly didn't think it would be you, young Winchester."
"It took you long enough to show up, I was beginning to wonder."
"Ahhh, there is that MacGregor humor that I so fell in love with," he said, referring to my mother's last name.
"I have a deal that you can't refuse. I will just lie down and die and you get the credit for the win."
"A deal with the devil?"
"The only thing I ask is that you and your friends keep your hands off my father and my brothers. For that I give you my life, my soul will be free, but I will be out of the game."
"What do you get?"
"I get my miracle."
"I'm not understanding."
"I'm looking for a miracle in my life, everyone else I help gets a miracle, but I always ask where's mine. I've decided you are my miracle. I need out, before I lose my mind. My head is full of pain, rage and horror, and my heart is just broken and I can't fix any of it, nobody can. So are we in agreement, me for my family's safety?"
"They would probably rather have you around," he stated
"Probably, but I get to decide this one," I said as I turned to look at Dad and Dean trying to figure out what the problem was with one of the weapons. They still hadn't even noticed that I wandered away. It was like they were in suspended animation.
"Well, this isn't the challenge I expected, I am rather disappointed. I have waited generations for you. You were to be the one, the chosen one, the golden child. You can't take yourself out of the game."
"Sure I can. I've given ten years and it has taken everything out of me."
"Well, to make the deal official, we have to make an exchange."
"I know and don't think I'm going to kiss you either, blood is just as good." I took out my pocket knife and made a slice on my right palm and then tossed it to my counterpart. He also made a slice drawing blood and we shook hands. The deal was sealed. I stepped back took a quick look over my shoulder, said a silent goodbye and faced my mortality.
I could tell that this demon was very hesitant with the deal that we had agreed upon. Apparently so could others, as one of his counterparts came swooping in. "Why he is he still alive? The deal is official, we do not get to send him to hell, but he will give us so much more freedom in this realm. Do your job," he yelled.
I could hear my grandfather screaming in my head. Usually he came to me only in my sleep, but his power was stronger than mine and I could not shut him out. Only the demon I made the deal with could harm me and there was a power I could draw on to escape the contract, but I would need help. I shook my head internally as I still wanted out of this life. I knew he was trying to alert my dad, but I did have enough energy to block his attempts. The other demon began to push for my demise. The first demon, who I always thought of as 'Scotty' since I always thought of him originating with my family in Scotland came close to me. "Why do you do this? You've got to be careful you could very well be dead soon, you will be."
I stood there saying nothing. It sounded as if 'Scotty' wanted out of the deal; I had made it too easy for him. I had become a disappointment.
He continued talking, "Why don't you talk to me? I hold your life in my hands, don't you understand?"
"What do you have in your hands? I have given you what you hold in your hands. My powers aren't mine, I don't even know where they came from or why I have them and that's what holds authority over me, not you, and not my father. So tell me, what is in your hands!"
"You're a fool, Winchester, how can I help you?"
"You can't help me, nobody can."
He began to scream, "then don't let me stop your great self-destruction, die if you want to."
I braced myself tuned out the pleas of my grandfather so many miles away and prepared to die.
"You will die a warrior's death, I will give you that much."
As we both readied ourselves we turned to a voice that came booming from the darkness. We saw Mr. St. James running in our direction, he stopped in between me and the demon and in a breathless voice said, "Nothing is in your hands, everything is fixed and you can't change it, either one of you. Sean, you gave me ten years; I now give those years back to you."
I screamed 'no' as loudly as I could as I watched him crumple to the ground taking the blow that was intended for me.
"How could you do that, you took it away from me. If was for me, for me!" I screamed as I fell to my knees.
"This was my purpose all along, the reason I was given this time. You are meant for so much more and I am only thankful that I could give you your life, as you gave me mine. Your dad once said what goes around comes around and now it has for you."
And with that his eyes became fixed and would see nothing more. I looked up at 'Scotty' and the accompanying demon and then I collapsed.
I could hear my father and Dean rustling around and pulling me away from the scene. I snapped awake and crawled back to Mr. St. James, screaming the whole way. I threw my head on his chest and still admonished him for destroying my plan. I felt as helpless as I ever had.
Dad picked me up, my body flailing violently as I fought against his grip. I continued to scream, "no, it was meant for me, I was the target, I was the one." Dad sat down and held me tightly against him. He was trying to calm me, but there was no serenity for me, not yet anyway. I could hear him bark orders to Dean as he tried to settle me. I was having none of it; I was hysterical and only stopped when my body wore itself out.
I woke up to the sound of Dad and Dean arguing. Dean had run Mr. St. James' car into the river and Dad was upset that he hadn't placed the body inside first. Dean was trying to plead his case when I jumped up and ran over to the body still lying where it had fallen.
"I want him buried. You owe him that much; he saved my life. He bought back the life I gave away. He deserves the respect of a burial."
Dean had already gotten the shovels out and he and Dad made short work of the makeshift grave. I had taken the blanket that Dad had laid me down on earlier and I covered my teacher with it. I was still questioning him in death as to why he sacrificed himself for me. I hadn't expected this turn of events and was beyond shock. I was to be at rest now, with no problems or issues before me, but here I sat in disbelief and horror that once again made up my life.
"Why? You never even told me who I am? I need more answers; you can't expect me to live without knowing the truth. WHO AM I?" I demanded of my redeemer.
I flopped backwards in exasperation. I was staring at the stars when I heard a whisper. I sat up and looked at the blanket ruffling in the breeze. My grandfather's words began to come to me, "you're heart is full of love, life and heroics, now go find it!"
"What does that mean? Why does everything have to be in a riddle?" I demanded.
But his thick Scottish brogue was gone. I looked to Mr. St. James and asked the questions again, but got no response. My dad had come over and cocked his head wondering who I was speaking with, but didn't ask. He helped me up and then, with Dean's help, carried the body over to the grave.
"Please don't throw him in," I begged.
"We won't son, don't worry," Dad promised me.
I ran and got the blanket and gave it to Dad as Dean was already waiting in the grave to receive the body. They eased the remains into the freshly dug hole and before Dean climbed out, I begged Dad to lower me in for one last moment together. I stood there and pulled the blanket tightly around him and pushed one more time for answers. I got nothing. I let out a big sigh and said my final goodbye. Dean helped push me up and Dad grabbed a hold and pulled me into his arms.
I threw a fistful of dirt over my friend and confidant and went to off to cry and try and sort out my feelings while the deed was finished.
I was sitting on the hood of the Impala with my back against the windshield as my father and brother returned with shovels and other gear in hand. They stowed everything and dad came over and pulled me off the hood and carried me to the truck.
My exhaustion took over and I quickly faded as we headed down the road. I kept mulling over the question of who I was and why I was still here. I had a feeling the answer would always be elusive, but as my grandfather had said, I had better go find it.