The Winchester Charm

by Lorelai McQueen

Dean Winchester met Melinda Halliwell when he was just six years old. They had what seemed like a good romance until she up and disappeared on him. Now, when he's in need of healing, Sam drags him to San Francisco to confront his past. What he finds changes his life forever. Dean/Melinda. S1 SPN & post-S8 Charmed.

9. Carry On, My Wayward Son

TWC Chapter 9: Carry On, My Wayward Son

A/N: I have literally just watched episodes 15x19 and 15x20. JUST. So I'm not going to spoil it for anyone, except to say…I've been changed forever thanks to Supernatural. I'm not okay at all that it's over. The ending made me sad and happy and devastated and peaceful all at the same time. It's confusing as hell so TWC will be my source of therapy, if you don't mind.

By the way, I stayed away from any and all spoilers before watching the final two episodes and, after I DID watch it, re-reading what I wrote here, about the start of everything, about their hopeful futures…Oh, my God, I'm gutted. I'm just devastated. Their respectful endings and the one they shared together made sense but it didn't make it any less heartbreaking.

On to chapter 9!

Disclaimer: I don't own anything Supernatural or Charmed related.

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Feb 2000

San Francisco, CA

"Dad's in a good mood," Dean whispered as he peered out into the dining room, nervous despite himself. Give him a poltergeist any day and he'd be fine, but a family dinner…Well, that was just terrifying.

So far, it had gone fairly smoothly. There was the usual Halliwell banter, but no one had tried to kill anyone, no demons had come bursting in and the deadliest thing at the table was Piper's wit. It was a regular ole weekly dinner, where the entire Halliwell clan came together for one of Piper's meals, and though Dean thought every meal Piper prepared was a feast, no one else thought it was a big deal.

Except that it was a big deal.

John had just returned to San Francisco from his hunt with one of his hunter buddies. He didn't like Sam and Dean to be a part of the job if he was doing it with one of his contacts. He'd asked them to handle a simple salt-and-burn case in San Diego, which had taken them a grand total of two days to do, and Dean had immediately peeled off towards San Francisco once the bones were nothing more than a pile of ashes, Sam in tow.

They hadn't breathed a word about their engagement to anyone – outside of Dean's little helper Parker and his confidant Sam, of course – since his birthday weeks ago. They'd both wanted to enjoy it for themselves for just a little while. They'd spent their very first Valentine's weekend together as an engaged couple cooped up together at the Four Seasons (he'd 'splurged', using one of his fake credit cards) and it had been magical with just a side of dirty, just the way he liked it.

But now, with everyone gathered together, both of them wanted to share the news. And Dean was…terrified.

He knew that Lynnie's family will be supportive of them, no question about it. Sam would be thrilled, too. But there was just no way to predict how John was going to react and, other than Lynnie and Sam, his dad was the only person in the world whose opinion mattered to Dean.

"Stop," Lynnie urged quietly.

Dean threw a look at her over his shoulder. "What?" he shrugged innocently.

Lynnie smiled, abandoning the dessert they were meant to bring into the dining room on the kitchen island. Stepping up to him, she wrapped her arms around his middle and leaned her cheek against his back, breathing in his familiar cologne, masculine and intoxicating. "Panicking," she clarified. "It's gonna be okay."

"You don't know that," Dean scoffed. "Do you think my dad had a little too much beer already?"

"I always think he's had a little too much," Lynnie answered promptly, biting back a grin at his glare. "Dean, relax. Breathe. Everyone's gonna be happy about this."

Dean took her advice, breathing deeply, and in a moment of rebellion, decided, "It doesn't matter. As long as we're happy, baby, I'm good."

Eyeing her a little nervously, he double checked, "You are, right? Happy?"

"The happiest," she echoed her sentiment on the night they got engaged. Grinning as he spun around, she allowed him to pull her closer into his embrace, one hand sliding into his hair, scratching at his scalp. Like he always did whenever she did that, Dean shivered, his kisses growing just a tad more aggressive.

Things were getting just a touch too heated, one hand slipping underneath the thin strap of her dress to touch her flushed skin, fingertips grazing at her racing pulse, when they heard someone fake gagging.

"Gross," Chris' annoyed voice broke them out of their loved-up daze. Breaking apart and panting harshly, they turned to look at Lynnie's older brother, one annoyed and one sheepish. "Do you two mind not ruining dessert for me?"

Lynnie glared at Chris. "Chris! Get out!" she snapped.

"You were taking too long," her brother replied. "Some of us would like cake before yet another demon crashes yet another dinner."

"I love how you're just so optimistic," Dean joked, heart fluttering like he was a schoolgirl when Lynnie reached up with her palm against his cheek, a gentle thumb swiping at the lipstick she'd left behind on his mouth. "Did I ever mention that?"

Chris threw them both an irritated glare, grabbing the cake and headed for the door.

Lynnie watched him leave before turning to look at Dean, breathing deeply, brave face on. "Ready?"

Dean was pretty sure he'd never been less ready for anything the way he was about this, but Lynnie's fingers twined with his, and he was suddenly struck with enough fearlessness to inspire jumping out of a plane. "Yeah," he decided, giving her an anxious half-smile that made her want to kiss it right off his mouth. She gave into the impulse and beamed when he smiled at her after, that handsome flirty smile of his that always made her heart flip.

Hand in hand, they walked back towards the dining room where Piper was cutting up the cake, fending off Leo as he tried to take a forkful of it around her. Lynnie grinned at her parents as Piper giggled at Leo's antics, jokingly scolding him as he earned her forgiveness with kisses, distracting her long enough to get his forkful of cake.

They looked as in love as they've always been her whole life and Lynnie felt the sudden urge to hug them, thank them for being such an inspiration to her. It was in no small way that they'd influenced the way she looked at love and relationships. She knew they'd influenced Dean, too. She honestly didn't know if she and Dean would be where they were, engaged, happily together since they were teenagers, if it hadn't been for the example her parents had set for them. Feeling a strong wave of love and gratitude for them wash over her, Lynnie released her hold on Dean's hand, bounding over to her parents to hug them both, arms around their shoulders.

"I love you," she announced to her parents.

A gentle, loving smile on his face, Leo hugged his daughter back, pleased by her sudden admission. "We love you, too, sweetheart," he pressed a kiss to her temple.

Piper, despite her grin, narrowed her eyes at Lynnie suspiciously. "Alright, what did you do?" she asked warily, teasingly. "Can't be worse than your sixteenth birthday."

"I didn't do anything!" Lynnie defended herself, too happy to pretend to scowl. "And, in my defense, that mailbox jumped out of nowhere."

Rolling her eyes, Piper plated up an extra large slice of cake for Dean, which he took with lit eyes and drool at the corner of his mouth. "Uh-huh," she drawled. "I keep forgetting that our neighbor's mailbox can grow legs and move around on its own."

"Mom, Dad," Lynnie exhaled loudly, shaking out her nerves as she went to stand next to Dean. She had to clear her throat a little to snap him out of his cake daze, twining their fingers together again as they faced her family. "Everyone…Dean and I…We have an announcement to make."

Dean, anxiety slamming back into him at full force, tightened his grip on Lynnie's hand, unable to look in his Dad's direction. Even with his eyes firmly trained on Piper and Leo, Dean could see his Dad out of the corner of his eye, weary smile fading into a cautious frown.

"We, uh, we're getting married!" Lynnie couldn't help her excited grin, almost bouncing on her toes.

"Oh, my God!" Piper was the first one to exclaim, dropping the cake knife to dart towards her daughter and future son-in-law. "You're engaged!? When!?"

"Dean's birthday," Lynnie admitted sheepishly, accepting hugs and kisses from her parents, cousins, aunts and uncles…Even Sam was getting in on it, hugging both Lynnie and Dean hard, excited for them.

"What!? That was a month ago!" PJ protested, punching Dean in the arm hard enough to hurt. "Why didn't you tell us!?"

"We kind of just wanted to keep it to ourselves for a little while," Lynnie said, shrugging unapologetically.

Wyatt and Chris patted Dean on the back, a brotherly act that wiped away all of Chris' former protective attitude when it came to the roguish hunter 'defiling' his sister (he'd actually said that once and Lynnie's anger at being interrupted by the thousandth time by him had been replaced by uncontrollable laughter; Chris hadn't been able to stop blushing for a week after). Dean accepted their congratulatory pats and handshakes absently, eyes finally sliding over to his Dad.

John, unlike the rest of the dinner party, hadn't stood to hug and congratulate the happy couple. Instead, face growing steadily angrier by the second, he swirled the little remainder of beer left in his bottle, eyes locked on the table in front of him. Hearing the congratulations and the cheer, he couldn't help but scoff.

He knew the Halliwells were reckless (something Piper ironically liked to accuse him of, funnily enough), getting into relationships, getting married, staying put in one place long enough to go to one school consistently and get stable nine-to-five jobs like they were regular people. They never saw the harm in doing that, but honestly, John knew that there was no such thing as a happy ending. How can there be when evil was always lurking in the shadows, waiting to hurt and maim and break and kill? The Halliwells risked so much by pretending they were Normies, but John knew better. Once upon a time, despite his ongoing fling with Piper's youngest, John had thought Dean knew better, too.

He'd failed as a father if Dean couldn't understand that this was something they weren't meant to have. A relationship – a marriage, no less – would only distract him. If they had kids (and, if Lynnie was anything like her mother and aunts and their ancestors before them, she'd have three, the magic number when it came to the Halliwell family apparently), they would be cursed, too. Lynnie and any future Dean might have with her would only serve as a distraction. And if demons found out about this? It would be like Mary all over again.

He couldn't let this happen. He refused to let this happen.

Tossing back the rest of his beer, John stood up from his seat, the abrupt movement causing his chair legs to scrape loudly against the floor. The noise halted everyone else's movements, and almost as one, they turned to stare at John.

Not giving a crap about them, not even meeting Dean's eyes, John growled out, "Sammy. Go get yours and your brother's bags. We're leaving."

Piper sighed audibly, feeling the happiness getting sucked out of the room. Goddamn John Freakin' Winchester, she cursed in her mind.

"What? Dad, why?" Sam protested immediately, ecstatic smile falling off his face. "We're right in the middle of dinner! And…And Dean and Lynnie got engaged! And–"

"Now, Sam," John interrupted, his tone stern.

Sam stopped short, staring at his father. He could count on one hand the number of times Dad called him Sam instead of Sammy. It usually meant that any arguments were not to be had, his orders not to be questioned. Usually, it's because of a life-or-death situation and Sam was okay with following his dad's lead. This time…This time no one was dying. No one was even in danger. Dad was just being an ass.

Sam crossed his arms over his chest and glared at his dad, keeping silent. John, seeing the stubborn set of Sam's jaw, rolled his eyes, exasperated. "This is not the time or the battle, Sam. Bags. Now," John ordered, irritated.

"Dad," Dean called out quietly, desperate to have him look him in the eye, desperate to make him understand…Lynnie was his family. Of course this was going to happen at some point. This was that point.

"Dean," John exhaled loudly, saying his son's name through gritted teeth. "We're gonna need to have a talk. But, right now, I want you to get in the damn car and get going."

"Dad, I can't," Dean frowned, pleading with his words and his eyes, trying to make him understand. "Can you just…Can we…Look, I-I love her, Dad. And I know you think I can't handle it. But I can. I swear to you, I can."

"We're not discussing this here," John snapped at him. "Get in the car, Dean."

Lynnie bit her lip as Dean squeezed her hand a little too tight. Wrapping her free hand around his arm, Lynnie stood as close to him as she could, wanting to give him just a little bit of comfort. Her cheeks burned with second-hand embarrassment as her cousins, aunts and uncles slowly filed out of the room, shepherded away by Parker in an attempt to give them some privacy. She even hooked a finger in Sam's hoodie, dragging him out despite his protests.

"Dad, please," Dean begged. "I love her."

"Fine," John threw his hands up, shaking his head. "You want me to say it, kid? You're putting her in danger."

"I can protect myself," Lynnie protested, indignant. "I'm not helpless!"

"Stay out of this!" John snapped at her, his tone angrier than she'd ever heard it directed at her. Jaw snapping shut in shock more than anything else, Lynnie stared at him, stunned.

"Dad!" Dean called out, rage starting to seep in through the cracks of his desperation. Tightening his hold on Lynnie's hand, he gently tugged her a little, subtly moving her to stand behind him, as though he was a body shield between her and his dad's biased anger. "Stop it! This…This was supposed to be a happy day."

"Well, that's your mistake, son," John chided. "You think you're meant to have happy days? That you're meant to have…This? Her? A marriage? What's next, two-point-five kids, a dog and a white picket fence?"

Scoffing, John shook his head, disappointment heavy in his tone and his expression. "You should know better," he told Dean, quiet and disapproving. "You're only going to get her killed."

"Alright, that's enough!" Piper interjected, glaring at John in a way that would've turned weaker men to stone. "You're not going to ruin this for them by being a moody, pessimistic asshole."

"You don't get to interfere," John pointed a finger at her threateningly.

"Were you going for ironic sarcasm or just blind ignorance?" Piper shot back.

"I know you're worried, John," Leo stepped in, always the mediator. "But Lynnie and Dean are strong, they're smart and careful…And they've got us. They're protected."

John shook his head. "That's what we always think," he insisted. "That's the weakness evil preys on." Swiveling to look in Dean's direction, he gave his eldest son a beseeching look. "Dean, I'm sorry. I…I took the easy way, letting you and Sammy stay here so much growing up. I should've been preparing you, making you stronger…Instead…"

"She makes me strong," Dean admitted quietly, unable to look at Lynnie. He'd crossed Chick Flick Lane straight towards Cheeseball Avenue, and he didn't need to see her laugh at him for it.

Knowing the reason he was steadfastly avoiding her gaze, Lynnie offered Dean comfort the only way she knew how, squeezing his hand tighter for a few seconds, her free hand rubbing soothingly up and down his arm. She could see the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction, smiling when he squeezed her fingers back in acknowledgement.

"You think that now, but when she's dead in your arms, you'll know that I'm right," John warned Dean.

"Hey!" Piper slammed her hands on the table, hard enough that a bottle tipped to the side, spilling red wine on the white tablecloth. "My little girl is stronger than your average Tabitha. She can handle whatever demons throw her way. And, I don't know if you've noticed, so can Dean."

"See, that's the problem with you Halliwells," John scoffed, scowling. "You always take it easy, always playing it like we're just like everybody else. We're not. It's all fun and games until someone dies. Or worse."

"It's really funny how you keep calling us reckless," Piper snarked. "Do ya happen to own a mirror?"

"See, I could deal with this when this was a fling," John continued, ignoring her.

"Dad, when has it ever been a fling?" Dean furrowed his brows together. "Lynnie's…She's always been way more than that. Always."

John ignored him, too. "But now, we're talking marriage? Jesus, kid," John exhaled loudly. "Being here, being around them…It's lowered your guard. It's made you more vulnerable than you've ever been. I look away for two seconds, and you're ready to just give up and let the demons get to you."

"That's not true!" Dean protested. "Me and Lynnie…We'll protect each other. We'll just…Do it from here. Sammy can stay with us, go to one school until he graduates. He'd like that. Dad…I'll still hunt. I will. I swear. But…I want this. I need this."

"That's my point," John snapped at him. "You've grown soft. You got weak. That girl of yours? She's gonna get you killed, 'cuz this…This is just getting you distracted and vulnerable. And guess what, kid? You're gonna be the reason she dies, too."

"Okay, what is this, Dysfunctional Parent 101?" Piper rolled her eyes. "No one's dying. Loving someone doesn't mean you're weak. It makes you strong. I get that you're both neurotic and crazy, John, but Dean and Lynnie will be fine. They'll look out for each other. They'll have a long, happy life together."

"Yeah, let's fill them up with even more bologna about happily ever after," John scoffed, feeling his blood boiling. "Like we're in some kind of Hallmark Christmas movie."

"It's not bologna if it's true," Piper retorted, arms crossed over her chest as she stared him down.

"Yeah, tell that to your mother," John said callously, too caught up in his rage and panic. The moment the words left his mouth, he wished he could take them back. If not for compassion, then for fear of the witch glaring at him as though she wanted nothing more than to blow him up with the power of her mind.

"Don't you dare talk about my mother," Piper warned him through gritted teeth. "She was wise and beautiful and kind, and she was a witch and a mother. She might not have lived long but she had a life well-lived. She loved and was loved in return. She would have never stood in the way of her children finding happiness in this messed up world, even if all the odds were stacked against them. Especially then!" Piper could clearly remember her mother talking her down from her moment of panic on her wedding day, the heroine who ensured Piper had decades of marital bliss with her Leo.

"Even now, decades after she passed, she's still missed. She's still remembered. She had a legacy worth dying for," Piper eyed John with a confusing mix of pity and anger. "That's the only thing I can wish for my children, John Winchester, and you'd better damn well count your lucky stars that your kids seem to be doing just that rather than follow in your footsteps."

"Look, I shouldn't have said what I said about your mom," John sighed wearily, the closest he'd ever come to an apology. "But these kids…They're just kids. They wouldn't be able to handle marriage if they didn't have to deal with monsters. But throw in evil to the mix and, God, it's gonna be a disaster. You know it will."

"No, actually, we don't," Leo interjected, voice as calm and soothing as his presence, the perpetual Whitelighter even decades after falling from grace. "Look, John, no one can predict exactly how life will turn out. Not even Halliwell psychics. The best we can do is…Just…Be there for them. Love them, support them. I want the best for Lynnie. And for Dean. I know you do, too. We can't shield them from life, John. If this marriage ends badly, then it'll suck. But I don't think it will. I think they can make it work. And even if I don't, it's not my place to interfere. They're happy, they love each other, they're willing to give it a shot. All we can do is support them."

John glared at the other man, envious of his ability to be so positive and angered that he seemed to be blind to all the life-threatening risks this union would bring.

"This isn't a Jerry Springer episode," John snapped, reaching the end of his tether. "Being here, around this family, it's made my boy soft. He's thinking of marriage and children and God knows what. That's the kind of stuff that people like us aren't meant to have. Dean should know better. I should've taught him better. He needs to snap out of this fairytale daze 'cuz none of this is real. None of this ends well. If you're too much of a coward to make them see sense, then I'll do it."

There was a lot more yelling, a lot more crying…Eventually, the happiness that Dean had felt, the total elation that Lynnie was going to be his wife – God, his wife – disappeared completely. Lynnie stood back, trying valiantly and failing as she watched father and son screaming at each other, the very first time she'd ever seen them like that, tearing each other apart. John was unreasonable in his insistence, sure that despite Dean's promises that he'd still hunt after marriage, it was the first step towards retiring from being a hunter ("A retired hunter is a dead hunter.") He accused Lynnie of being the reason Dean was slacking off, why he was bound to get himself killed one way or another. Dean brought up his mom. John, for the first time in his life, punched his son, anger clouding his judgment.

Dean stared up at him from the shiny, clean floor of the Halliwell dining room (how they kept it so clean when demon guts exploded there at least once a day he'll never know), eye throbbing, pulse jackhammering, his anger melting away into shock.

John stared at his son, frozen to the spot. He'd never once raised a hand to his kids. Yeah, he was tough on them, he trained them like they were soldiers (because they were) and, lost after Mary died, he took to parenting like it was the military and he was their commanding officer rather than their dad. He knew it was hard on them, but he believed it made them stronger. But beating them…No, John hunted monsters. He wasn't one himself.

Until now.

"Dean…Son, I'm so sorry," John whispered, running a hand down his face.

Suddenly Phoebe was there, an air of fabricated serenity around her pushing towards everyone else in the room.

"I think we all need some time to calm down," she said, and John found himself agreeing to it without a fight. He can't be sure if it's because Phoebe's manipulating his emotions or because he's just too damn shocked over breaking a promise he'd made to himself – and to Mary. He'd hurt his boy. God, what the hell was he even doing!?

Phoebe took him to the conservatory, telling him to take a couple of breaths, enjoy the night breeze. "It's peaceful here," she promised him, a small smile on her face. "Look, just a take a couple of minutes to cool off. Take an hour, even. Dean needs to do the same."

John noticed belatedly as she left the room that they'd passed by empty rooms on the way from the dining room. There wasn't anybody else left. He supposed, with their magical means of transportation, they wouldn't have needed to awkwardly make their way past the Fighting Winchesters to get to the front door.

Congratulations, John, you've cleared out an entire house full of people, Mary's voice echoed in his head, and he could hear her sighing in disappointment, the sound so real he flinched.

"John?"

He knew that voice, knew it like the back of his own hand. He knew what it sounded like annoyed, happy, sad…Wistful. He knew how it sounded like breathing his name like it was the only thing keeping her grounded. And, yet, turning to face her, John was struck by surprise. She had been there, after all, listening to all the crap he'd been screaming about Lynnie, about her family, listening even when she'd been ushered out of the room to give John and his son some modicum of privacy. He was shocked she'd stuck around.

"Peyton?" he blinked at her, but she didn't disappear. He wasn't hallucinating. She wasn't a mirage. She was really there. "Peyton, what're you doing here?"

She closed the sliding doors behind her with a soft click, eyes never leaving his face. She looked so pretty, heart-shaped face clearly inherited from her mother, green eyes framed by long, thick lashes…John felt his heart skip a beat at the sight of her. The crushing guilt that always came right after almost suffocated him, Mary's face staring back at him from behind his eyelids every time he blinked. Do you love her, John? Mary had asked him once in a nightmare. Do you love her like you loved me? More?

"I wanted to see if you were okay," she said quietly, walking towards him.

John stood, eyes taking in the three hundred and fifty doors that surrounded the conservatory. Not that her family needed doors to enter a room, but it made him jumpier than usual.

"Peyton, anybody could walk in," he warned.

Though she stopped moving, standing a few feet in front of him instead, she said, "I don't care."

Folding her hands together, Peyton stared at the man she'd fallen in love with within a week of being with him. She'd never been in love before, which she knew her sisters didn't understand. Parker gave so easily when it came to love and relationships, falling hard and submerging himself into each and every relationship she found herself in. PJ fell in love twice a month. Peyton had always been the anomaly, a Cupid who'd never experienced love for herself.

And then, there was John Winchester.

She'd known him since she was six years old, but he'd always been almost a myth to her. The Santa Claus that could exist, but somewhere else. She'd only really seen him a handful of times herself growing up – he chose to stay away whenever Sam and Dean stayed over at the Manor, and Peyton didn't live there despite spending most of her childhood in that house. Most of the time, Peyton had only caught a glimpse of him behind the driver's seat of the Impala as he waited for Sam and Dean to leave or get in.

Last Thanksgiving had been different.

He'd shown up the day before, covered in blood and barely able to move. Apparently, he'd been ambushed in a ghoul's nest. Paige had healed him and he'd wanted to get back on the road the moment it was done, but Piper had gotten in his face, telling him that his sons deserved a Thanksgiving meal that wasn't from a can or a diner, "And you deserve it, too, John. Whether you believe it or not, you do."

He'd reluctantly stayed and the Halliwells had partied well into midnight. By the time the last of her family had slipped into a Piper-Halliwell-Food-Coma, Peyton had found herself wrapped in John's arms, inviting him into her bed.

She wasn't a virgin, but that first time with John…It felt different than it did with other men. She wondered sometimes if she was as impulsive as her sisters, falling in love with someone in one night, but she would never get an answer to that question, so she'd pushed that thought to the back of her mind.

Peyton had been worried that John was just too drunk to know who he'd fallen into bed with, but he'd wrapped impossibly large hands around her waist the next morning, smiled all sleepy and soft, and she'd felt her heart flutter, sliding her hand up and down that mountain man beard of his, feeling the hair prickle at her palm. He made her feel right and warm and loved and she wanted that for the rest of her life.

They had snuck around for the past few months since, Peyton finding the time to orb to him more and more now that she was officially done with college (she'd graduated early, summa cum laude, much to her parents' pride). In turn, John broke his 'family always sticks together' rule, letting the boys spend more and more time at the Manor and at Bobby's rather than on the road with him, purely so that they wouldn't be there when Peyton dropped by.

He'd come around to San Francisco whenever he could, stopping by her apartment for secret visits. Peyton had never been gladder that she'd moved out of her parents' loft and into her own apartment. It had been a wild ride, and every single time she saw him, every time he kissed her or made her laugh or touched her, even when it was just as innocent as brushing hair out of her face, she fell even harder for him. He wasn't perfect – he was gruff and driven by revenge, broken even in ways that she didn't think anyone could fix. But he was hers. And she loved every little jagged piece of his heart that he gave to her, finally understanding how her sisters could give all of theirs over to someone else.

"Did you mean all of that?" she asked now, heart breaking. Because every single thing he'd said, about being distracted, growing soft and weak, getting each other killed…He might have been screaming it at Dean and Lynnie, but Peyton had felt it all in her soul.

"Peyton…" he sighed, shaking his head. "I didn't mean that about you."

"Didn't you?" she asked, wrapping her arms around herself as though to keep herself together. "We Halliwells make you Winchesters weak, right? We're bound to get each other killed?"

John gazed into those beautiful green eyes he'd grown to love over the past three months. He didn't think he'd fall for anyone else after Mary. Yet here he was, head over heels, and haunted by visions of his late wife whenever he thought about how much he'd come to care for Peyton.

"Say something," Peyton pleaded, snapping John out of his daze.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, steeling himself.

What he'd said about Dean and Lynnie…He'd meant it. Even if he could've said it better, or at a different time, he'd meant it. And none of it would have happened anyway if he hadn't gotten so careless over the years, letting the boys spend so much time at the Manor until they were almost part-time residents there. Dean wouldn't have lost sight of the real mission, he wouldn't have built up this fantasy in his head about living any kind of apple pie life, not even part-time.

John had grown comfortable hunting on his own, too distracted by chasing the Demon. And these past couple of months, he'd been too distracted by Peyton. For God's sake, he was having a family dinner not an hour ago! They weren't the Walton's.

"Sorry?" Peyton repeated in a whisper, and John had to turn away, heart seizing at the sight of tears forming in her eyes. "Sorry about what? Being a jerk? Or…?"

"I said it wrong, but…Everything I said…It's true, Peyton," John rubbed at his face tiredly. "You know it is. Dean doesn't see it yet, but he and I, we're the same. We're not meant for this. What you and your family have. We don't belong here."

"Says who?" she challenged, trying her hardest to control her trembling chin. She wasn't some damsel, crying when the man she loved tried to push her away. She was stronger than that. She had to be.

"Peyton…" he begged, and trailed off, unable to find the words to continue.

"No, tell me," she pushed, anger rising up with her grief. "You want me gone? Tell me. Tell me you have the right to make this decision for the both of us. Tell me you don't love me. Tell me this is over."

"Peyton, this never should have started," he countered quietly, unable to stop himself from wrapping his hands around her arms as she finally moved in closer, her fists gripping the front of his shirt. "I'm twenty-five years older than you. I'm…God, I'm a mess. If your parents found out about this, they'd kill me. And I wouldn't blame them. You're barely legal, Peyton."

She shook her head. "Don't say that," she begged, gritting her teeth. "Don't say it like I'm too young for you, too young to understand or love you. Because I do, John. I love you. I love you. Don't do this."

"You'll thank me for this someday," he promised her, ducking his head down to look her in the eyes. "With me, there's no future. We won't get married. We'll never have kids. All we'll ever have are stolen moments between hunts. You deserve more than that, Peyton."

"Don't I get a say in what I deserve?" she asked, feeling the warm splashes of tears on her cheeks as he broke her heart.

"I'm sorry–"

"God, stop saying that!" Peyton cried, yanking herself out of his grip. "John…We could make this work. I know we can. Please…"

She wasn't letting go and John needed her to let go. He needed her to hate him, to want him gone. It was the only way he'd ever stay away from her for good, knowing that she didn't want him around.

"The only woman I ever really loved, the only woman I could've ever had that life with…Is gone," John said, telling her a lie that had been the truth until just a few months ago. "She's gone, and there's no one else that I can have that with. There's no one else I want that with."

Peyton stared at him, Sensing his grief and anger…And his love. It was raw and painful and beautiful and heartbreaking and perfect. She wanted to bask in it. She wanted him to fight for it.

Rushing forward, Peyton threw John for a loop when she gripped him by his shirt and pulled him down for a bruising kiss. Heart almost stopping, John wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her close. She smelled so good, like lavender and rain, and she felt so right in his arms. His heart kept breaking every time he thought that – Mary had felt so right in his arms, too. He was drowning, lost in the abyss of grief for his wife and kept afloat, alive, by the love of the woman in his arms.

Peyton pulled away first, eyes still closed as he leaned his forehead against hers, his breath puffing out against her face, smelling of beer and cake.

"Lying to an empath isn't the smartest thing you've ever done, John Winchester," she murmured, eyes fluttering open to see the pain she felt reflected in his.

John unwound an arm around her to gently brush away a dark brown curl from her face. "Peyton…" he breathed, torn into two. He wanted so much to be with her, embrace the life she was so willingly offering to him, build a different sort of future for them…A future he hadn't even considered since Mary. But he was frozen in fear, seeing Mary burning on the ceiling, her face melting away into Peyton's. He couldn't do this again. He just couldn't.

Peyton swallowed down a sob. She could Sense the love John had for her, but she could also Sense his resolve.

"If you ever decide to stop being an idiot, John, you know where to find me," she told him, breaking free from his embrace and running out of the room.

John stared after her, fighting down the urge to chase her, tell her he was sorry, ask her to be his for as long as she wanted him. But he sank back down on the lounge chair instead, dropping his head into his hands.

---

August 2006

San Francisco

"Chris, watch out!" Lynnie yelled, ducking as a fireball flew by her head. Throwing herself behind a large, heavy chest, Lynnie gasped as she felt the searing heat of another fireball whizzing by. She could hear Chris shouting in pain, and she popped up from behind the chest long enough to blow up a demon.

They were outnumbered, five to one. She had no idea why they'd suddenly been attacked by what seemed like an entire garrison of demons, but there they were, coming in from all sides. Wyatt had incinerated a whole swarm of demons using energy waves, but cut off one head and two more appeared. The Manor was positively crawling with demons. Lynnie had never been more relieved that Wren was safe at Magic School, attending class. She needed to kill these damn demons before her baby girl gets back.

"What the hell is going on!?" Wyatt shouted as he snatched an athame off of a demon and threw it at another, orbing a fireball back in the direction it came from. "Why are they all coming at the same time?"

"Who the hell cares why!?" Chris shot back, throwing a few bottles of vanquishing potions this way and that, trying to get as many demons as he could.

The battle took longer that Lynnie cared for, drawing in her mother, her cousins and her aunts into the swing of it. Lynnie could feel something tugging at her heart halfway through the battle, but four more demons appeared surrounding her and she was forced to push that down, focusing instead on surviving.

"Was there an all-you-can-kill ad out in the demon Zagat?" Piper yelled as she threw her hands up and blew up what seemed like the thousandth demon in the past hour.

"Don't look at me!" Phoebe yelped as she spun around, delivering a powerful high-kick that propelled a demon straight into the athame PJ held out.

As suddenly as they appeared, the remaining demons stopped fighting and, looking at each other, shimmered away.

The Halliwells gaped in shock, eyeing the space around them warily.

"Are they really gone or did they go Invisigirl?" Paige wondered, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

Chris stepped forward, commanding, "Reveal."

Lynnie felt a pulse of power as Chris' magic spread throughout the room. It remained empty, proving the demons were really gone.

"Nothing," Wyatt commented, as stunned as the rest of his family. "Huh."

"What, was it a scheduled dinner time?" Parker asked, hands on her hips as she caught her breath.

"I'm just glad they're gone before Wren – ahh!" Lynnie clutched at her head as the adrenaline of the battle left her and she could finally hear what she was meant to hear.

"Lynnie, please…Please…Anyone," Sam's voice called out to hear. "Dean's dying. Somebody please…"

"Oh, God," Lynnie's eyes widened. "Dean!"

Parker, understanding immediately that Lynnie was Sensing Dean in danger, stepped forward slightly. "Go," she urged her cousin. "I'll pick Wren up from Magic School. Don't worry, hun."

Smiling tightly to show her gratitude, Lynnie dropped the mace she'd swiped off of a demon she'd vanquished, orbing out immediately, going to where Sam was.

The first thing she saw as she orbed to him was the ultra-white walls that could only belong in a hospital. Blinking away the bright white dots that always strayed in her vision for a few seconds after orbing, Lynnie looked around the room, heart dropping all the way down to her stomach as she caught sight of Dean. He was laid on a hospital bed, tubes and wires attached to him. He looked so pale, so lifeless…

Sam was by his side, head bowed as he prayed. He'd missed her entrance entirely.

"Sam?" Lynnie called out, feeling tears gather in her eyes.

Sam's head snapped up at the sound of her voice. Eyes widening in shock, he jumped out of his seat, crossing over to the door of the room and shutting the door so they wouldn't be interrupted.

"Lynnie! Oh, God, thank God!" he reached her in two strides of his long legs, sweeping her up in a hug. "Lynnie, please, I need help…Dean…He's dying…And Dad's missing. Bobby thinks Dad wants to summon The Demon. God, I…I think I'm gonna lose my whole family here tonight. Help me. Please. Help me."

He was squeezing her so tight she thought he might crack a rib or two.

"Sam! Sammy, I can't breathe," she patted his sides gently, the only part of him she could reach with her arms trapped between them.

"I'm sorry," he sniffed, pulling away. Her heart broke at the devastated expression on his face. Cupping his cheeks, she smiled gently at him.

"One disaster at a time," she murmured consolingly and he nodded, swiping the back of his hand under his nose.

Concentrating, Lynnie Sensed for John. She was half-convinced it wouldn't work but the hoodoo magic that had kept him shielded from Whitelighters and White Witches must have been a linked spell with the same magic that shielded the boys, because she found him instantly. He was alone and feeling fearful but determined. She didn't know what he was up to but she didn't think it would end well.

Using her gift, she orbed him to her side, opening her eyes just in time to see him materialize next to her and Sam. He looked stunned to see them, one hand holding onto a knife and his other dripping blood.

Sam glared at his father, obviously in the midst of summoning The Demon. "Where were you?" he demanded angrily.

"I…I was taking care of some things," John answered vaguely, blinking as he regained his composure.

"Well, that's specific," Sam scoffed.

"Sam," Lynnie warned, already seeing the fight that was about to explode out of him.

"Did you go after The Demon?" Sam asked his father, ignoring Lynnie, eyes locked on John. He already knew the answer but he wanted his dad to admit the truth, for once in his life.

"No," John lied.

Sam shook his head, aghast. Dean was dying and their dad was still focused on demon hunting. God, he knew Dad hadn't deserved any of the blind faith Dean had always put in him. "You know, why don't I believe you right now?" he retorted, his fear of losing Dean and feeling so helpless about it making him lash out.

"Can we not fight?" John pleaded, suddenly feeling so small and exhausted. At the shocked look on his younger boy's face, John told him tiredly, "You know, half the time we're fighting…I don't know what we're fighting about. We're just butting heads. Sammy, I…I've made some mistakes. But I've always done the best I could. I just don't wanna fight anymore. Okay?"

Sam stared at his father, unable to remember a time when John had waved the white flag. Or wanted to stop fighting. Or admitted that he'd made mistakes before. An icy cold fist of fear gripped him by the heart, and Sam sucked in a deep breath, trying to shake it.

"Dad," he called out quietly, the fight leaving him as suddenly as it came. "Are you alright?"

John smiled a little. "Yeah…Yeah, I'm just a little tired," he reassured Sam.

Now that she knew the two of them weren't going to kill each other, Lynnie quickly assessed Sam's injuries. They were going to need some Healing, that's for damn sure, but they weren't as serious as Dean's. Lynnie barely spared John's bleeding hand a glance.

"I don't know what you were up to, John, and I think you can manage on your own for a little longer, Sam. If you'll both excuse me, I've got more pressing injuries to heal," she told them both briskly, feeling just a smidge of guilt as she dismissed John entirely, still not over the curveball he'd thrown her way, affecting her life so prominently for his own benefit. "You just gotta deal with it for now."

John watched, hope blooming tentatively in his chest as Lynnie strode over to his son, placing her hands on his chest as she worked to Heal him.

Sam had tried praying to the Halliwells to no avail, and John had known then that he'd had to take drastic actions. If praying to Good hadn't work, then he'd had to pray to Evil. He'd been willing to give up his life to trade it for Dean's, knowing that something was stopping Lynnie from coming to his son's aid. Hell, back in the day, she didn't even need to be Called. Anytime Dean got hurt or in too hot water, she was there, ready to kill or Heal. He knew without a doubt that this was The Demon's work, wanting to kill Dean, maybe coming for him next so that Sam would be alone, defenseless…He couldn't let that happen. Dean would have a better chance of keeping Sam on the right track, keeping him safe. And John could never live in a world where either one of his sons were dead.

Before he'd had a chance to complete the summoning ritual, however, he'd been snatched away, back to Dean's hospital room, and he watched with baited breath as Lynnie worked that heavenly magic, clenching his bleeding fist and praying to a God he barely believed in that she'd save his son.

"Why is it taking so long?" Sam asked, tears trickling down his face as he watched anxiously, arms wrapped around himself.

Lynnie frowned, closing her eyes as she concentrated. "He's so close to death," she whispered, heart thudding wildly as she worked harder, willing her magic to work faster. "God, I can barely feel him…"

Sam sucked his lower lip between his teeth, stifling a sob. He couldn't lose his brother. Dean had been the one constant his whole life. Even when he'd run off to Stanford, Sam knew that if he'd called for anything, Dean would've been there in a heartbeat. Sam didn't know how to go on if Dean was really gone. Please God, please, he prayed, eyes never leaving Lynnie's glowing hands.

Dean, unbeknownst to his loved ones, was stuck on the astral plane with a reaper, struggling to explain to her why he couldn't leave. Of course he couldn't. He had to take care of Sammy. He had a coming war to fight, to hear Dad talk about it. And Wren and Lynnie…God, he hadn't had enough time to make it right with them. He didn't care about other soldiers, brothers, fathers and lost loves she'd reaped. He didn't care about anyone but the people he loved, the people he couldn't leave behind. Not yet.

"Moment of truth," Tessa eyed Dean seriously, having tried her best to get him to move on. "No changing your mind later. So what's it going to be? Move on peacefully or end up the thing you used to hunt?"

Dean turned to look at her, devastation plain on his face. Tessa felt the same empathy for him that she'd felt for all the people she'd reaped, but there was no changing the way things were. Death was a part of life. He either understood it or he didn't. She couldn't do more than try.

Before Dean could answer her, however, he was pulled away, his surroundings melting away until he was back in his hospital room. Tessa appeared in front of him, looking as confused as he felt.

"What…What's happening?" Dean asked.

Tessa sighed as she glanced over at his hospital bed. "Honestly, Whitelighters," she muttered, rolling her eyes.

Hope springing to life inside of him, Dean spun around to see Lynnie bent beside his bed, glowing hands on his chest.

"Come on, Dean," she whispered, eyes fluttering open to gaze at his prone body. Dean stepped forward, eyeing Lynnie anxiously. "Come on. Come back to me."

"Heal me," he pleaded to her. When she didn't react to his voice, he knew that she couldn't see or hear him, just like Sam and Dad. "Heal me, dammit!"

"Please, Dean," Lynnie moved one glowing hand directly above his heart, and the other cupping his cheek. "Please."

Lowering her voice, Lynnie whispered only for his ears, "I love you. Dean, I love you. Don't leave me."

Dean stared at her, a smile starting to tug on his lips. "I knew it," he whispered, just as he felt a warm glow deep in his chest. It started to get a little too warm and he looked down at his body to see it glowing, the same warm bright light as Lynnie's hands. Knowing that he was getting Healed, he turned back to face Tessa, who was looking less than pleased. "Sorry, guess it's just not my time," he shrugged, just as the world around him disappeared.

Everything was black, and Dean panicked for a second before his body reacted, eyes blinking open slowly, painfully. The first thing he saw was Lynnie, her face tear-stained as she eyed him anxiously.

"Dean?" Lynnie whispered, seeing him come back to life. His visible injuries disappeared, skin returning to their unblemished state, and she could Sense that his internal injuries had Healed, too. He was safe and whole, not a single scratch left on him. She pressed her palms on either side of his face, steadying him as he came to, eyes widening in panic when he felt the tube down his throat. "Hey, hey! It's okay. Dean, you're okay. Calm down, alright? I'm taking the tube out…don't panic or someone's gonna come in and check on you."

He tried to listen to her, forcing his heart rate to slow a little (another useful skill taught by one John Winchester) but the adrenaline was pumping through his body. The last thing he remembered was being in the Impala, spinning out of control. He couldn't breathe, something stuck in his throat…And was he in a hospital bed!?

Lynnie grabbed some gloves from the box on the table next to Dean's bed, carefully removing the tube from his throat. Dean coughed, throat dry and sore.

"What happened?" he asked, voice hoarse, looking to Sam and his Dad for answers.

"You don't remember?" Sam wondered, too strung up on worry and fear to be too relieved that Dean was alive and well.

"Guys, we can talk about what happened later," Lynnie interrupted, snapping the gloves off and tossing them in the trash can nearby. "We gotta go before somebody comes in here and finds Dean without a single scratch on him. We'll never be able to explain that."

"Where should we go?" John asked, sniffling a little as he stared at his son and the woman who performed a miracle on him.

"I would have said the Manor, but we were just ambushed by about a hundred demons there," Lynnie admitted, helping Dean to slowly rise from the bed. "We should go to the apartment. Lay low for a while."

"No, we need to get back on The Demon's trail before we lose it again," John shook his head, snapping back into focus.

Lynnie levelled him with a glare. "John, your sons were both injured. You're not looking too hot yourself," she pointed out. "I haven't even Healed Sam yet. We're getting out of here. We're going to my apartment. We're laying low, even if it's just for an hour. If you've got a problem with that, tough."

John blinked at her, stunned. She had always been a tough, head-strong little thing, but she had never spoken like that to him before. She had balls, he'd give her that. He was even sort of impressed – it takes a strong woman to handle a Winchester. Mary had been like that. Any other lifetime, he'd be telling Dean to never let her go.

"Now, let's go. Everybody huddle up," Lynnie said sternly, looking pointedly at Sam and John until they shuffled closer, each putting a hand on her arm as she held onto Dean. Once she was sure everyone was holding on, Lynnie orbed them swiftly away from the hospital room, rematerializing in her living room.

Unbeknownst to Lynnie and the three Winchester men, Azazel, known to them only as The Yellow-Eyed Demon, materialized in the empty hospital room just seconds after Lynnie orbed them away. Pursing his lips, Azazel dragged his eyes from the empty bed to Tessa, standing frozen at the sight of him.

"Guess I'm just gonna have to get creative," he told her, smirking as he teleported away.

Tessa shivered, rattled by his appearance. His presence had cast a disturbing pall over the room. Steeling herself, Tessa blinked a few times, taking in a deep breath and exhaling loudly. Demons and humans and whatever else…None of it mattered. Only the Grand Plan. Focusing herself, Tessa teleported away from the empty hospital room in Jefferson City, Missouri to attend to her next charge.

Only a few moments later, the door to the room opened, a nurse coming through. Seeing the empty room, her brows furrowed together. "What!?" she whispered, thinking of the comatose patient who had no way of walking out on his own.

---

"Where's Wren?" Dean asked as they orbed into Lynnie and Parker's living room.

"I don't know," Lynnie released her grip on Dean, heading towards Sam to Heal him. "Parker was gonna pick her up…"

Dean frowned, looking around the dark apartment. "It's way too goddamn quiet in here," he muttered, switching on the lights and heading towards the bedrooms to search for his little girl. There was something about the total stillness of the place that rubbed him the wrong way. It felt the same way it did going into a hunt – his palms were sweaty, his heart was racing, his senses were heightened, and he was completely on edge. Something was wrong.

"Mommy," Lynnie heard, and she spun around, done with Healing both Sam and John. She recognized her little girl's voice, and smiled, looking in the direction where it came from.

"Sweetie, where were you?" she asked. "Daddy was looking for…" Lynnie trailed off, eyes widening in horror as she took in the sight before her.

Wren stood in front of the kitchen's entrance, an unnatural smile curled on her lips. Parker was splayed out on the floor next to her. Wren had a fistful of Parker's shirt collar in her grasp, holding up her aunt's upper body off the ground. Parker's head lolled to the side, tilting backwards slightly in her unconscious state. Lynnie could see the trickle of blood down the side of her face, a nasty looking gash at her hairline.

"Oh, my God," Lynnie whispered, dread turning her blood into ice.

"Not quite," Wren replied nonchalantly, gripping Parker's shirt tighter.

"Parker!" Sam yelled out, moving to rush towards the unconscious woman.

John held him back. "No, Sammy, wait!" he flung an arm out in front of his son, gaze focused on the little girl's yellow eyes. "Careful. That's not Wren anymore."

Lynnie, frozen in fear, squeezed her eyes shut for a brief second, screaming out for Dean.

"Dean! Oh, God, Dean! Get in here!"

He came running out from Wren's empty bedroom, skidding to a halt in the living room as he took in the ghastly sight. Catching the yellow irises, Dean sneered in disgust. "You son of a bitch," he growled, taking one step forward.

"That hurt my feelings," Yellow-Eyes said, Wren's voice seemingly echoing thanks to his influence. Wren's arm shot out to roughly toss Parker aside, the older woman flopping lifelessly into a wall.

"How the hell did you get in here?" Lynnie asked through gritted teeth, fear and anger making her head spin dizzyingly. Dean took slow deliberate steps until he was standing right in front of Lynnie, shielding her partially despite the fact that she had more power than him to stop the Demon. "The crystals…"

Yellow-Eyes scoffed. "Please. As if something like that could stop me," it rolled Wren's eyes, smirking a little at John. "You know what I'm talking about, don't you Johnny-boy? Holy water didn't even pinch. I'm something far more dangerous than your average demon."

"Regna terrae, cantante Deo, psallite Domino–"

Wren's arm flung out, and Sam was thrown backwards into a wall, his arms and legs stuck to the surface, his throat closing up as the Demon asserted its power. "Really, Sammy?" It taunted, a disappointed expression painted on Wren's face. "An exorcism? How disappointing."

"You get the hell out of my kid," Dean snarled. "Right. Now."

"Oh, well, if you say so, then I guess I'll have to do it," Yellow-Eyes mocked. "On second thought, I think I'll just wear Wren a little while longer. Have a little fun. Torture the cat. Kill the rest of the family. I'll save Mommy and Daddy for last, of course…"

Lynnie gripped at Dean's arm, feeling her legs shake at the thought of her little girl. She wondered if Wren knew what was happening to her body, if she was aware of it at all.

As though It could hear her thoughts, Yellow-Eyes turned its attention to Lynnie, smiling wide. "She's wide awake in here, y'know?" It told her. "She was screaming the whole time I was hurting Auntie Parker. Traumatized little thing…Very sweet. Very delicious. Yeah, I think I'll keep her around."

Dean, anger taking over, rushed forward. He didn't really think his plan through – there was nothing he could do once he reached Wren's possessed body, after all, that wouldn't hurt his little girl – but he wanted The Demon gone. He needed It gone. It didn't matter, however. Yellow-Eyes didn't let him get close, clenching Wren's raised hand into a fist, gaze locked on Dean. Dean halted, feeling his chest start to constrict. He could feel his heart beating a little too fast, a little too painfully, his blood boiling in his veins. Gasping for air, Dean dropped to his knees, one hand clutching at his heart and the other planted on the floor, holding himself up with a shaky arm.

Lynnie's eyes widened. Please, God, no, she prayed. Wren was going to be exorcised of this evil, and when she was well again, she'd be horrified that she'd had anything to do with her dad getting hurt. Moving a few steps away from Dean, she called out to the demon, hoping to distract It enough that It would release Its hold on Dean.

"Hey!" she called out, watching with a shiver crawling down her spine as Wren's head snapped in her direction, bright pale-yellow eyes staring at her soullessly. "I don't need an exorcism to get you out," Lynnie raised her hands, ready to freeze Wren, knowing that she would only be freezing the demon, freeing Wren's body from it.

The demon must have known that, too, because without letting go of Dean, It flung out Wren's free arm, and Lynnie suddenly found herself spinning in the air, crashing into the wall behind her. She groaned in pain, feeling as though she'd been hit by a cement arm, her head throbbing where it had cracked against the wall. She shook her hair out of her face, looking over to where Yellow-Eyes stood in the guise of her daughter, a cruel smile on her face.

"Ah, ah," Yellow-Eyes sang out. "Don't try and Charm me, witch."

Lynnie screamed, pain blinding her vision and dulling her senses for a white-hot moment. She could hear Dean calling out for her, her name garbled on his blood-stained lips. She couldn't lift her head to look at him, her eyes trained on her own hands, seeing them twisted brokenly, the bones crushed by Yellow-Eyes' power.

Dean watched Lynnie's crumpled body heave in pain, helpless to do anything for her. Eyes sliding back to The Demon, Dean coughed, feeling the warm splutter of blood escape his lips.

"Wren," he called out weakly. "Wren, baby, fight It. I know it's scary, bud. But you're strong enough. You're my tough warrior, remember? You can do this."

Wren's arm shook before it fell limply to her side. Dean could barely hold himself up, the pain too strong, but he did it anyway, watching hopefully as the evil smirk on Wren's face fell away, the yellow eyes fading back to Wren's natural green.

"Daddy?" Wren whispered, eyes widening as she caught sight of him on the floor.

"Wren? Wren, are you okay?" Dean asked, struggling to sit up, unable to believe she was really alright.

Wren rushed forward, crouching next to him. "Daddy! You're hurt!" she cradled his face in her tiny hands, and Dean smiled, relieved.

"No, no, I'm okay, baby girl," he reassured her. "Don't worry about that. Are you okay?"

Wren smiled, tears in her eyes, chin wobbly. "I'm okay, daddy," she told him, and he let out a breath of relief, his shoulders sagging. His happiness didn't last more than a few seconds as green dissolved back to a bright yellow, Wren's lips twisting into a sneer, "Just kidding."

Dean gasped as Wren's hands on either side of his head tightened uncomfortably, growing more and more painful as Yellow-Eyes applied enough pressure to slowly crush his skull.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, struggling from his prison against the wall, but the Demon was too powerful. Sam couldn't even move his pinky finger. Sam's heart seized in his throat. This was not going to be the day he lost his brother. He wasn't going to lose a third person he loved to the Demon. This wasn't happening.

"Hey! You didn't forget about me, did you?" John yelled out, and Yellow-Eyes turned to look at the eldest Winchester.

John reached into his coat pocket and, before even Dean knew what was happening, he'd cocked and aimed the Colt at Wren.

"No!" Lynnie shouted, struggling to climb to her feet, gingerly holding her broken hands close to her body.

"Dad, no, what the hell are you doing?" Dean protested, stunned. Gasping for breath as Wren's hands lifted from his face, Dean kept his eyes on John, fighting the urge to just give into the pain and collapse. "I know this is what we've been searching for, Dad, but not like this. You hear me? It can't end like this."

John didn't spare him a glance, gaze locked on The Demon. The Demon.

He'd spent the past twenty-two years fixated on this creature. Sam's whole life…He'd wasted away twenty-two years with his children, just focusing on finding and killing the thing that had taken away the love of his life. He'd missed out on a lot, there was no doubt about it. He never let himself think about that because…well, what would the point be? Life as a hunter was dreary enough. He couldn't add thinking about his failures as a father on top of that. There was no way to change it, alter the past, and it was far too late to make it right for the present.

The only thing he could do was give his boys a chance at a good future. He could sacrifice what he had to give them a chance at a better life someday, with the people they deserved and loved well and alive.

"You gonna shoot me, John?" Yellow-Eyed asked, smirking cruelly. "You'd be killing your own grandkid. Well, you were never keen on her being born in the first place, were you?"

"Dad," Sam called out in disbelief, praying that his father would put the gun down. There was no time for a Mexican standoff when they should really be exorcising The Demon out of Wren's body. God, he'd met grown-ups who'd been torn apart by a possession. He couldn't bear to think what his little niece was going through.

"I'm not gonna shoot you," John told It, surprising everyone in the room as he lowered the Colt, removing his finger from the trigger. "I wanna make a deal."

Dean stared, shocked beyond belief, as his dad laid down his bargaining chips.

"You want this gun?" John waved the Colt slightly. "It's yours – if you release Wren. You let my family go, and I'll hand it to you."

The Demon stared at John with narrowed eyes. "It's very unseemly, making deals with devils," Yellow-Eyes said suspiciously. "How do I know this isn't another trick?"

"It's no trick," John swore. "I will give you the Colt and the bullet, on one condition. You leave Wren's body and you leave my family alone. You take this gun and you disappear."

Yellow-Eyes smiled as It understood why John was offering up the one thing that could destroy the thing that killed his wife. "Why, John, you're a sentimentalist," It mocked. Turning to look at Sam and Dean, It told them, "Well now you know how much daddy loves you."

"It's a good trade," John interrupted him, bile rising in his throat. Losing the Colt was going to sting but he knew they could make it work anyway. "You care a hell of a lot more about this gun that you do Wren."

"Don't be so sure," Yellow-Eyes warned, Wren's voice taking on an unnaturally ominous tone. "She's got power. Lots of it. Most of it undiscovered, most of it untrained…But it's there. She's gonna be a pain in the ass one day. Best to just nip that in the bud right now."

John stared at The Demon, mouth set in a grim line. "We both know you're not going to do anything today except take this gun and leave," he said, sounding more confident than he felt. "So, deal or no deal?"

The Demon stared at John with intelligent, calculative eyes. John felt a shiver crawl down his spine and forced himself to stand still, fighting the urge to shudder. The sight of his granddaughter – his granddaughter, for God's sake – with yellow eyes…It was unnatural in the worst way possible, but he couldn't let It see how it affected him. Demons preyed on weaknesses, and despite having never been properly introduced to her, Wren was one of his. She was a Winchester, after all, no matter what her last name was.

Blinking slowly, The Demon nodded, agreeing to the terms wordlessly.

"Good," John sniffed, gripping the Colt tight for a moment. The one weapon he knew could end The Demon, and he was going to have to give it up. He knew Yellow-Eyes would destroy it because what else would he do with it? It was a devastating loss, but not one greater than losing Wren. He couldn't do that to his son, even if it cost him his revenge – for now.

The Demon stepped forward with Wren's legs, holding out a hand for the gun. John held it back, making It narrow Wren's eyes, glaring dangerously.

"Not backing out, are ya, John?" Yellow-Eyes asked warningly.

"No, but before I give you the gun, I'm gonna wanna see Wren's okay. You're leaving her body. Now. Or the deal's off."

The Demon rolled It's eyes. "Oh, John," It tsked. "I'm offended. Don't you trust me?"

John shook his head slowly, keeping his gaze locked on The Demon.

"Fine," Yellow-Eyes sighed, conceding. "I guess I'm just gonna have to give her up. For now."

Dean struggled stronger against the white-hot pain in his chest and the crushing imaginary fist around his throat and heart. Over his dead body was The Demon getting to his kid ever again. Without even looking in Dean's direction, Yellow-Eyes smirked a little as It strengthened Its hold on Dean, crushing him just a little more.

"Leave her," John repeated through gritted teeth. "Take the Colt. And go."

"No, John, not yet," Yellow-Eyes said, struck by inspiration. It decided to take care of two problems at once – John Winchester was a pain in Its ass, and It needed Sam to stand on his own feet, without daddy around to stifle his growing power. Big brother Dean might try to interfere, but he was a clueless jock. He'd never be a real threat, not the way John was proving himself to be. John needed to go, and what an ironic way to go indeed. "You still need to sweeten the pot."

John frowned. "With what?" he asked, dread growing in his stomach.

"There's something else I want as much as that gun," The Demon told him, smirk growing wider as everything settled into place. It was a sucker for irony. "Maybe more."

It paused, mostly for dramatic effect. "Your life," The Demon revealed, chuckling when both Sam and Dean struggled against Its hold, calling out for their dear ole daddy.

"You're not in any position to be making demands," Lynnie spat out, slowly stumbling forward on shaking legs.

"Yes, tell me again what you plan on doing," The Demon mocked her. "Should I break more than your hands?"

"How about I call for backup instead?" Lynnie countered. "There's no shortage of Halliwells dying to take you on. One word and they come crashing this party."

"True," Yellow-Eyed agreed. "And the moment I see bright white and blue lights swirling around, I break your daughter's neck. I'll disappear with her body, wear her around for a while. You won't find her until I decide I'm done. What do you say, kid? You wanna get out of my way or do you want her mutilated body on your front step somewhere down the line?"

Lynnie clenched her jaw, vision blurring as she fought back angry tears. John slowly crept forward until he was standing in front of her, shielding her from The Demon. On a good day, she'd shove him aside and take care of the vanquishing herself. But this was her baby. She was too stunned to protest, to move, to even think rationally. God, what a disappointment she must be to Wren.

"Fine,' John said, distracting Yellow-Eyes from the mother of his grandchild. The Demon's gaze slid to him, and John jutted his chin out, resolved to save his son's family. His family. "I'll take the deal."

"Dad!" Sam called out, panicked. "Dad, no!"

Sam struggled harder against the invisible cement block holding his entire body captive against the wall. He could feel tears trickling down the side of his face as his helplessness grew. He wasn't so naïve to think that The Demon was just going to take the Colt, kill Dad and run off into the night. Without Dad or the Colt, with Wren held hostage so they couldn't Call for help, Sam knew in his heart that this was when he was going to lose everyone he loved and cared for.

At the thought, a sudden black hole of darkness enveloped his mind. His vision blacked out for a second, and Sam blinked harshly, trying to regain his sight. A gasp fell from his lips as he felt his fingers move, and he wriggled them experimentally. Putting more strength behind it, Sam panted as he focused his energy on moving, eyes widening as he lifted his hand away from the wall. It was a struggle to keep his hand steady, but steady it was.

As though It could sense Sam's progress, Wren's head snapped in his direction, bright yellow eyes zeroing in on Sam's hand.

"My, my," The Demon murmured, stepping away from John and Lynnie to slowly make Its way towards Sam. "What a skill."

Sam's brows furrowed together as he stared in confusion at The Demon. "What…?" he managed to get out, right before he was interrupted.

"I said 'deal'," John called out, desperate to cut The Demon off before any more was revealed. "We gonna get on with it or are we gonna gab like a couple of girls?"

Knowing what John intended, The Demon grinned, turning away from the boy. After all, there was time for Sam – later.

"You know, my children seal deals with a kiss," The Demon told John, flaring Wren's eyes playfully. "I think we'll skip that part. It's a disturbing thought even for me."

John didn't react to It's vulgar suggestion, staring It down with a hard glare.

"Well, John," The Demon sighed. "It's the end of the line."

John held up his hand. "Give me a minute with my boys," he requested. At The Demon's raised eyebrow, John tilted his head, gritted his teeth and tacked on an explanation a creature like It wouldn't understand. "I want to say goodbye."

The Demon rolled Its eyes. "Such a sentimentalist," It muttered, disgusted. "Make it quick or I'll change my mind."

John gestured towards Sam and Dean, still frozen in place with Yellow-Eyes' power holding them captive and pained. "D'you mind?" he asked.

"I do, actually," Yellow-Eyes snapped, but It released the brothers, anyway, thrilled that Its plan was moving along now. John Winchester might be a smart hunter, but he wasn't smart enough to outsmart It.

John rushed forward to help Dean to his feet, clasping his eldest son by the shoulders as they gazed at each other with tear-filled eyes. Sam, dropped back on shaky legs, stumbled forward until he reached them, careful not to jostle Lynnie and cause her any more pain as he stood next to her.

"Boys, this is it for me," John said, accepting his fate.

"No, John, I'll Call for backup," Lynnie insisted, heart pounding wildly. "I'll Call for Wyatt…He can be discreet."

John shook his head, giving her a small smile. "I appreciate that, Lynnie, I do," he told her, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. "Especially after what I did to you and your little girl."

Lynnie sucked in a deep breath. "John, now's not the time for that," she chided. "It doesn't matter. You're an innocent. I'm not letting some demon kill you. That's not how this works."

"It is if you want to save Wren," John countered, Lynnie's jaw clicking shut. "Look, I'm not so thrilled to die, either, but hunters…We don't live to a ripe old age. It's a miracle I've made it this far. I want my death to mean something, and sacrificing my life for my granddaughter…Well, that means something."

"Dad, please," Sam pleaded, unashamedly crying now. "I can't do this without you. We can't."

"Sure, you can," John disagreed easily, cupping Sam's head in one hand, keeping the other on Dean's shoulder. "As long as you have each other, you can survive anything. You can beat anything. I know you boys will do me proud. You'll kill that thing. I know it."

Pausing, John locked his eyes on Sam's, wanting him to see that he meant his next words, "Promise me something, Sam. Once you kill Yellow-Eyes, you go back to living a normal life."

Sam sniffled, gaping a little at his father. That was the last thing he ever expected him to say. "W-what?" he stammered, blinking the tears out of his eyes.

"Go back to college," John urged. "Go to law school. Fall in love again. Have two-point-five Winchesters…There's always going to be evil walking the earth, but our family's given enough. There are other hunters out there, Sammy. I was wrong to be so harsh on you when you wanted to leave. You deserve a good life. Yellow-Eyes won't stop until you're both dead, so kill It before It kills you, but go and have a life once It's dead. You hear me?"

"This really you talking?" Sam asked, almost laughing because it was funny that he was hearing everything he'd dreamt his dad would say to him, but it also wasn't because he knew it was a goodbye.

"Yeah. Yeah, it's really me," John smiled, tilting Sam's head down to press a kiss to his boy's head. "I love you, Sammy," he swore. "I'm sorry I wasn't a better father. But I love you."

"I love you, too, Dad," Sam rushed forward to wrap his father in a tight hug. He didn't want to let go but he couldn't snatch Dean's goodbye with Dad away from him. When he felt John pat his back a few times, Sam reluctantly let go, swiping at his eyes.

John turned to his eldest. "Dean," he started.

"Stop," Dean held up a trembling hand. "Stop, Dad. No. We're not doing this goodbye thing. We're gonna figure out a way to get the hell out of here – with Wren safe and sound."

He sounded so confident, so fearless, when John knew he was anything but. He smiled fondly. That's my boy, he thought, pride making him warm all over.

"You know," John started, ignoring Dean's words. "When you were a kid, I'd come home from a hunt and, after what I'd seen, I'd be…I'd be wrecked. And you, you'd come up to me and you…You'd put your hand on my shoulder and you'd look me in the eye and you'd…" John paused, a little choked up as the memories came flooding his mind. "You'd say, 'It's okay, Dad'…"

John felt his chin wobble, the warm trickle of tears sliding down the side of his face. "Dean, I'm sorry," he said, his voice breaking a little.

"What?" Dean stared uncomprehendingly at his father. He could count on one hand the number of times John Winchester had shown emotions like that, let alone cry. He could feel the numbness spread in his body, rendering him frozen, rendering him unable to process his father's words or his grief. His child was possessed, her mother helpless, and his dad was going to die.

What do I do? WhatdoIdowhatdoIdowhatdoIdo? Dean chanted desperately in his head, searching frantically for an answer that didn't exist.

"You shouldn't have had to say that to me," John wrapped a hand around Dean's neck, squeezing slightly to comfort him. "I should have been saying that to you. You know, I put…I put too much on your shoulders. I made you grow up too fast. You took care of Sammy, you took care of me…You did that, and you didn't complain, not once. I just want you to know…That I am so proud of you."

Dean hated the traitorous tears that spilled from his eyes. He hated that they were saying goodbye. "Dad…I don't know what to do," he begged. "Tell me. Please. Tell me what to do."

"You be a good dad," John told him simply, hating that he never got the chance to pass on fatherly advice about parenthood to his kid. And whose fault is that? Mary's gentle voice echoed in his head, and it was a punch to the gut when he caught sight of her out of the corner of his eye, a subtly reproachful smile on her beautiful face.

"You look out for Sammy. You be there for your kid…You don't miss an opportunity to make things right," John urged Dean, eyes flicking in Lynnie's direction. Dean shot him an incredulous look, as if to say 'Really, Dad? Yellow-Eyes is about to incinerate you and you're giving me advice on my love life!?' John grinned, a little sadly, Peyton's adorable smile flashing to mind, "Look, I, uh…I had a chance once…Not that long ago. A girl…She was…I could've loved her. Really loved her."

Dean looked away, not quite able to hear that. To him, Dad could never love anyone other than Mom. He wasn't blind or stupid – he knew Dad had been around when he was growing up. Of course he had. Life was lonely on the road and hunting kinda filled you up with a lot of pent up frustration you had to let out somehow. Booze and sex worked great. But sex didn't have to mean love. You could have sex with a hundred people and still be madly in love with just the one. Dean knew from first-hand experience.

"I screwed that up," John admitted. "I couldn't let go of the past, couldn't let go of my anger…And now I'm never gonna make it right with her."

Sucking in a deep breath, shaking off that loss because what else could he do, John looked his son dead in the eye, "Don't be like me, Dean. You've always been better than that. Don't miss out. Fight for what you want. Fight for the life you deserve. Be better. Okay?"

Dean clenched his fists together, unable to speak, unable to even look at his dad. This isn't goodbye, he told himself, firmly in Denial City. This isn't goodbye.

John applied gentle pressure to Dean's skull, tilting his head up so he'd look at him in the eye. "Okay?" he repeated.

As much as he didn't want to answer (because if did, Dad might be done with saying goodbye, then it was time for The Demon to take him away), Dean had never been able to not follow Dad's orders. Despite himself, he heard himself agree tearfully, "Okay."

"Good," John smiled, patting him on the cheek twice. Leaning in, he brought his lips to Dean's ear, whispering too low for anyone else to hear. "I want you to watch out for Sammy, okay?"

Dean's brows furrowed together. "Yeah, Dad, you know I will," he said, turning his head slightly to look at John confusedly. "You're scaring me," he admitted, seeing the unreadable expression on his father's face.

"Don't be scared, Dean," John reassured him, heart breaking as he leaned in even closer, spoke even softer so that even Dean almost couldn't hear him. He passed the burden onto his son, wishing to God he didn't have to. But Yellow-Eyes was right – this was the end of the line for him, and someone needed to carry on. He knew Dean wouldn't let him down.

Hearing his Dad's words, Dean jerked away, staring at him in shock. He gaped at John, speechless, frozen.

John gave him a sad reassuring smile, completely missing the mark as far as Dean was concerned. "It'll be okay, son," John patted him on the shoulder, though Dean didn't know how anything could ever be okay again after hearing those words.

John sucked in a deep breath, exhaling loudly. Turning back to face The Demon, he spread his arms wide. "Well, okay," he said, ready for the end. "Let's get this show on the road."

The Demon smirked with Wren's lips, "Let's go, then, grandpa."

That stopped John short. Jutting his chin, John made one last request, "Not like that."

The Demon frowned. "John…We had a deal," It warned, anger simmering to a boil. "I really hate it when people break their deals."

"I'm not," John assured It. "But you're not killing me while wearing my granddaughter like a meat suit. That's just not happening."

The Demon rolled Its eyes. "Humans," It scoffed. "Fine, then. I guess we're doing this au naturel."

Wren's head tilted back, her mouth dropping open unnaturally as black smoke poured out. John gripped the Colt tighter, though he knew it was useless when The Demon wasn't in a vessel that could absorb the bullet.

Before their eyes, the black smoke hovered over Wren's frozen body, and once it was all out of her, Wren crumpled to the ground, eyes rolling to the back of her head.

"Wren!" Lynnie called out and, before anyone could stop her, she ran forward, dropping down to her knees next to her baby girl. Wincing, gasping in pain, Lynnie smoothed Wren's hair back from her face with her wrist, holding her broken hand out of the way as well as she could. Dean knelt down on Wren's other side, worried eyes flickering between their daughter and John.

"Is she okay?" John called out to Dean and Lynnie, keeping his eyes locked on the black smoke slowly floating away from Wren and towards him.

"She's unconscious," Dean replied, two fingers at Wren's pulse point. "Dad…"

"It's gonna be okay, Dean," John told him, flinging an arm out to stop Sam from stepping in front of him.

"Dad, we can beat this thing," Sam said, desperate, drawing himself up for a fight. "We'll run. Lynnie can orb them out. Wren's safe now. You don't have to do this."

"Yes, I do," John shot him a look over his shoulder. "Be brave, Sammy."

The black smoke swirled, morphing into the shape of a large, horrific, monstrous skull. John could feel his blood turn into ice, the fear taking over for just a moment. He stared right into the face of evil, the face of the creature that had killed his wife and damned his family. The skull stared back at him with soulless eyes before it shot at him, engulfing him in its darkness.

John gasped, feeling cold all over as the smoke went right through him. He looked up, seeing the horrified looks on Dean and Lynnie's faces as they stared right back at him, helpless. The little girl between them shifted, her eyes fluttering open. John watched her struggle to sit up, attracting the attention of her parents.

"Wren, honey, don't look!" Lynnie cried out. It hurt too much to move so Dean grabbed Wren, pushing her face into his chest to shield her from seeing John dying. Wren peeked out from between Dean's arms caging her in safely, eyes widening in horror as she watched John's skin grow pale, almost grey, and his eyes started to drift, the spark in them fading.

The last thing John saw was the green of Wren's eyes, smiling to himself at the thought that it was the same exact shade of green as Dean's.

Wren pushed Dean's arms away, stunned as John's body crumpled, a lifeless shell as he fell back into Sam's arms.

"Dad!" Sam dropped to his knees as he caught his father's body, unable to stand the weight of it. "Dad, no! Please, please…" Sam cried, bowing his head over his dad's chest. His body was already cold somehow, stiff and pale…He was gone. Just like that, Sam was an orphan. It hurt more than he could've imagined. He held onto his father's body, his arms trembling as he cradled John to his chest. "Dad…"

Wren didn't know why Sam was only just reacting to the dead body. She knew, from The Demon that had kept her awake while It made her do all those bad things, that the body was John, her Daddy's dad. He was her grandpa. And he was dead. Uncle Sam was crying, and Daddy was crying, and Mommy was telling her not to look, but Wren couldn't look away.

It wasn't just Grandpa John.

It was the black smoke swirling around his body.

No one was reacting to it, and Wren didn't know why, because after everything she'd been through that night, this was still the scariest thing she'd witnessed. It was black, pure black, but she could see the shape of a skull inside of it…And Grandpa…He was rising up. A glowing see-through version of him was rising from the body Uncle Sam was hugging…

Wren snuck a look at her Mommy, but even she didn't seem like she could see it, tearfully Calling out for Uncle Wyatt instead.

Wren looked back at Grandpa John and the Black Smoke, eyes widening as the smoke enveloped Grandpa John's spirit completely. Grandpa John's spirit looked like he was getting choked and strangled, arms held wide open. His neck looked strained, and his eyes bloodshot. The Black Smoke took him over completely, wrapping around his neck, his body, his arms…Strangling him, taking him over completely until Wren couldn't see him at all anymore. It turned until the skull inside the smoke was staring right at her, its skeletal mouth almost smiling in glee. If she tried hard enough, Wren could almost hear a laugh.

Cringing back against her dad's chest, Wren opened her mouth and started to scream.

---

August 2006

Brimstone Cliff, Hell

The first thing he registered as he opened his eyes was the heat.

It was hot, hotter than anything he'd ever experienced. There was once a heatwave in Arizona he'd had to deal with as he worked a rugaru case a couple of years ago…He'd thought that had been bad. Man, he'd been clueless.

He blinked a few times, clearing away the fog in his vision. The heat seemed to be a physical thing, clouding his sight, but his surroundings slowly became clearer as the seconds ticked by. John took half a step back as he realized he was standing on the edge of a cliff. Peering carefully over the edge, all John saw was a deep, dark red. Heat seemed to climb out of the chasm below. He could hear screams echoing, and it was loud…He couldn't tell if it was coming from below him or around him. He couldn't really see beyond the red hills and cliffs surrounding him. There wasn't another living being in sight as far as he could tell.

"Beautiful, isn't it?"

John jumped, the voice startling him almost out of his skin. Spinning around, he felt his jaw drop as he stared at his twin. It looked exactly like him, down to the clothes he was wearing. The only thing that's different were the eyes – yellow, cold…Soulless.

"It's not the word I'd use," John muttered, turning away from It. "So…This is Hell?"

"Not what you were expecting?" Yellow-Eyes asked. John shrugged, trying for nonchalance when fear was consuming him from the inside out. "If it makes a difference, this is just one section of one dimension of Hell. It's a very complex place. You humans never seem to get it right. You've kind of always just kind of made it a vague thing, but it's not, you know? A lot of thought went into creating this place. I've always admired the handiwork."

John shot him a look. "Are we gonna have tea and discuss Russian literature next?" John mocked.

Yellow-Eyes grinned, twirling the Colt between Its fingers. "I like the Russians," It sighed, the sound making John shiver in disgust. "They know their pain. I think I'll take some inspiration from them when I go after Dean."

John's head snapped up, his eyes narrowing on The Demon wearing his face. "You said…"

"I never said I'd leave them alone forever," The Demon interrupted him. "You made that assumption all on your lonesome."

"You son of a bitch," John gripped It by the lapels of Its jacket.

The Demon chuckled, easily prying John's hands off of It. "Easy, John," It warned. "You're in my house now."

"Dean's not a threat to you," John tried to reason, panting harshly at the adrenaline pumping through him.

"Don't be so sure," The Demon snarled. "He killed some people very special to me…But still, you're right. He isn't much of a threat. And neither is your other son."

John bowed his head, avoiding Its gaze. At Its amused chuckle, John raised his eyes, looking into Its knowing face.

"You know the truth, right?" The Demon taunted. "About Sammy? And the other children?"

"Yeah," John admitted gravelly, admitting defeat. It was up to Dean now to protect his little brother – there was nothing John could do from where he was now. "I've known for a while."

"But Sam doesn't, does he?" The Demon cocked an eyebrow. "You've been playing dumb."

Grinning, The Demon peered closely at John with glinting yellow eyes. "It's gonna be a wild ride," he promised, striking a hand out suddenly and pushing John off of the cliff.

John choked on a gasp, screaming as he fell down the dark red chasm, the heat building the farther he fell until it felt like his entire being was on fire. The screams grew louder, so loud he couldn't tell them apart from his own, and his skin felt like it was being peeled slowly from his body. It was a never-ending pit, it seemed, and he couldn't stop falling, or burning, or hurting. He didn't know how long he was falling or burning or screaming, but he could hear the cold, chilling laughter of The Demon, echoing all around him despite the screams.

---

Just as a side note in case you've forgotten I've mentioned this (you know, 'cuz it takes me a year to update…so sorry about that), I imagine Hilarie Burton as Peyton. I thought it'd be cool/funny to have her as another kick-ass, strong-willed Peyton since she did so well the first time around. Also wanted to pair her up with JDM in the Supernatural world, seeing as how the show is how they met in the first place. Just take note that Peyton's 20 years old here and there's a whopping 25-year age gap between her and John (IRL there's about a 16-year age gap between Hilarie and Jeffrey – totally unrelated but I REALLY adore their love-at-first-sight story, and that Jensen and Danneel KNEW they'd be right for each other before they even met. Name a sweeter love story, I dare you). If that squicks you out…Hmm, well, can't help you.

Also, a slightly different twist to the ending of 2x01. Sorry but there's just no way of saving John. The boys needed to go their own way without him. But I thought he redeemed himself somewhat by sacrificing himself to save Wren. Some of the dialogue is taken straight from the script of 2x01.

I HAD to name this chapter after our fandom's theme song. It just fit after the series finale, and re-reading what I've written between John and his boys at the end of this chapter.

And yay! We're now on Season 2!

Please leave a review to tell me what you thought of this chapter. I'm gonna continue on to write Sam and Dean's intertwined adventures with the Halliwells to Season 15 and beyond, and a lot of changes are gonna happen thanks to this. I hope you'll all still read on that far ahead.