The Man Known as John Winchester

Seeing the figure of a man standing by the window, I reached for the gun still tucked into the back of my pants. It was however, unnecessary as Sam turned on the lights so we could all see better. Although he was older, as he turned to face us, I would recognize that face from the pictures in dad's journal anywhere.

John Winchester had finally returned. I felt numb, feeling my knees shake a little and my mouth dry. I wasn't expecting a reunion quiet like this. Hell, I wasn't sure what I had expected but I hadn't realized it would all happen so soon.

The first words I can remember him saying in person was right now, looking quite more emotional than I thought the known stoic Jonathan Henry Winchester would be. "Hey kids." Dean stepped forward quickly, hugging his dad. Dad hugged him back, truly looking like a family reunited. But then after the hug, he turned to Sam. "Hi, Sam."

Sam croaked, "Hey dad." But didn't step forward to hug him, slowly setting his stuff on the ground instead.

Then he turned to me. "Christina." He said quietly, stepping forward. John was amazed, here was his daughter, his little girl. His heart hurt because it clearly happened over time, Christina still looked more like her mother than any other of his kids. He reached up, trying to touch my face, brushing against that stubborn tuff of hair that always fell out of my ponytail and framed my face.

I suddenly felt less like a scared kid and more like someone had just pissed me off. I jerked my head away before he could touch me. "Don't. Touch. Me." I said, each word firm. Sam and Dean winched, having never heard that tone coming from her.

John slowly stepped back, knowing he had ruined all chances of having his daughter the day he dropped her off at that crummy orphanage in Lawrence twenty two years ago. "I guess I deserve that." He said quietly. He had always try to do best for his children and look where it got him. Dean was practically his little soldier doing everything he tells him. Sam ran away as soon as he was eighteen. And Christina had clear disgust in her eyes when looking at him.

To avoid the awkward silence, Dean quickly stepped up. "Dad it was a trap. I didn't know, I'm sorry." Turning the attention back to the matter at hand.

"It's alright." John said. "I thought it might've been." And what, he just thought he wouldn't bother telling us it was.

"We're you there?" Dean asked.

"Yeah." John said and I clenched my fists. So he just sat on his ass while we were nearly killed? "I got there just in time to see the girl take the swan dive. She was the bad guy, right?"

Both Dean and Sam said 'yes sir' while I said, 'yeah'. This man didn't deserve any respect from me.

"Good." John said. "It doesn't surprise me. It's tried to stop me before."

"The demon has?" Sam asked.

"As in the demon that ruined everything." I muttered, leaning against the motel room wall and crossing my arms.

"It knows I'm close." John said. "It knows I'm gonna kill it." Hell, I wanted to be there to see it all end. "Not just exorcise or send it back to hell, actually kill it." I straightened up surprised. Was it actually possible to kill a demon? I had never heard of it being done before.

"How?" Dean asked urgently.

John smiled. "I'm working on that."

"By yourself?" I asked. I learned from years of hunting alone and these pass months that it was practically suicide. Honestly, how I made it out of my teens alive was a mystery to me.

"Let us come with you." Sam said, sounding a little to hopeful. "We'll help." I noticed Dean give Sam a warning look and I scowled. I didn't want to be in this man's presence longer than I needed to be.

"No, not yet." John said and I wasn't all that surprised. "Just try to understand." All he ever did was push his children away. "I don't want you caught in a crossfire." That's rich. "I don't want any of you hurt." Where was he when my foster fathers almost killed me. Or foster mothers try forcing me into they're perfect little doll. Or foster siblings...kids could be so cruel.

"Dad, you don't have to worry about us." Sam protested.

We may be younger than most hunters but, "We're good."

"Of course I have to worry. I'm your father." I looked away. How dare he saw that to me. He hadn't been my father in over twenty years and nowadays well, I didn't really need a father. "Listen, Sammy. Last time we were together, we had one hell of a fight. It's good to see you again, it's been a long time."

"Too long." Sam agreed before falling into his dad's arm, nearly crying as they struggled to fix they're broken father/son bond. Mine would be much harder to fix. Sam and dad had one fight four and a half years ago. Mine lasted twenty years and all of my childhood.

"Christina." John suddenly said.

I looked up startled but didn't even bother trying to stop my correction with hands on my hips. I didn't realize that despite a few features I got from dad, I looked exactly like John remembered mom did when she got mad. "Chris, I go by Chris nowadays."

"Chris," John slowly said the name, committing it to memory so he wouldn't upset her again. "I know I haven't exactly been the best father,"

I scoffed, the boys silently watching. "What do you mean 'best father'? That implies actually being a father, as in being there more than just the first two years I had life. I needed a father when I was a teenager a whole hell lot more than when I was a baby that I can't even remember. You haven't been my father in twenty years and you know what, I'm all grown up." I paused to take a deep breath. "I don't need one anymore."