Raising Winchesters

Chapter 2

The next few months were difficult for all three Winchesters, but mostly for John. His grief for the loss of Mary was consuming him piece by piece, leaving little left for the two little boys that so desperately needed him. Dean still barely talked, saving his precious words for his baby brother, and he still barely ate enough to keep him going. John often found himself growing frustrated with his oldest son, which usually left him feeling guilty for losing his patience with the boy.

And anytime John did lose his patience with Dean, the boy withdrew even further into the shell of the boy he had quickly become. John found himself alternating between periods of despair, defeat, anger, acceptance, and complete apathy. Each stage didn't last very long, but his quickly changing emotions were obviously too difficult for his five year old son to figure out. Hell, he couldn't even figure them out himself.

Sam was a completely different story. Thankfully, he was young enough to not feel the complete devastation of the loss of his mother. John could tell that the boy missed his mother, but he sometimes found it difficult to console a crying, fussy baby when he himself felt like laying down and crying his own eyes out. Fortunately, even though John knew it was wrong to think that way, Sam had Dean.

Even at five years old, Dean quickly stepped in and took over the job of comforting his baby brother when he was upset. And more and more often, the boy took over taking care of Sam's physical needs, too. Deep down, John knew that he shouldn't allow Dean to take on those responsibilities, but he wasn't strong enough to stop him. He wasn't strong enough to be the father that Dean needed him to be.

They had been driving aimlessly since they had left Mike and Kate, stopping for food whenever John remembered that he needed to feed Dean and stopping at cheap motels whenever he was too tired to drive any further. He had no family left to speak of and whatever friends he used to have weren't the kind of friends to allow a man to invade their homes, especially when that man had two kids in tow.

John spent a fair amount of his time staring in the rearview mirror at the sight of his two boys curled up on the back seat of the Impala. Dean usually had his arms wrapped around his little brother, holding him tightly against his side, and Sam could usually be found with his fingers either wrapped up in Dean's too long hair or the sleeve of his shirt.

Sam wasn't a fussy baby, for the most part, and Dean rarely complained about anything, but there were times that John was tempted to pull the Impala over and just walk away. He would never do that, of course, but there were times that the hopelessness of his situation nearly overwhelmed him.

Currently, they were stopped for the night and John had just checked them into a motel. Sam, who had been teething and was more fussy than normal, had been crying most of the day and Dean was also crankier than usual. Once he had them as settled as he could in the motel room, he realized that he desperately needed to make a supply run. He had just used the last diaper on Sam and he was running critically low on formula for Sam and snacks for Dean. Looking over at the two boys, who were cuddled up on the small bed, he realized that Sam was sound asleep and Dean wasn't too far behind.

The last thing he wanted to do was to wake the boys up and put them back in the car to drive to the store, so John waited until Dean was sound asleep before making the decision to lock them in the room and drive as fast as he could to get the supplies. He knew that he absolutely should not leave them alone, but he thought he had little choice in the matter.

Taking one last look at his sons, John grabbed his keys and quickly made his way to the door. Making sure the door was locked behind him, he shut it quietly and nearly ran over to the Impala, anxious to go and get back as soon as possible. And he felt like a horrible father the whole time.

Dean woke up to a quiet, dark room and instantly looked around for his brother. Relief washed over him as he saw Sammy's shape outlined in the soft moonlight that filtered through the slight break in the curtains. Once he was sure that Sam was okay, he searched the darkness for signs of his father. Usually, if he woke up in the middle of the night, he would hear the soft snoring that came from whatever direction his dad was sleeping. Or the man would be awake and watching television as he made his way through a six-pack of beer. Either way, John would always be in the room. He would always be there, if Dean needed him.

Except, this time he wasn't.

Dean felt the first stirrings of panic building when he realized that his father was gone and he couldn't help the immediate tears that welled up in his eyes. His heart suddenly started racing and he couldn't stop the trembling that threatened to overwhelm him.

With complete dread, he climbed out of bed, trying not to wake his brother in the process, and made his way over to the window in the front of the motel room. He couldn't quite reach up to look out the window, so he grabbed a chair that was at the small dinette table close by and pulled it to the window. Once he had climbed up on the chair, he slowly pulled the curtain open and looked out the window, hoping to see the familiar shape of his dad's car parked in front.

But, it wasn't there.

Dean climbed back down from the chair and walked back to the bed with shaky legs threatening to topple him over. His tears were threatening to spill over and he barely contained the scream that wanted to escape him. He wanted his Daddy. But, even more than that, he wanted his Mommy.

Not knowing what else to do, he climbed back up onto the bed and laid down next to his brother, pulling the blanket up over his head and finally giving in to his tears.

John knew his trip was taking way too long, but the first store he stopped at didn't have the size of diapers that Sam needed. So, having driven almost ten more minutes to get to the next store, he had now been gone twice as long as he had planned on. His heart was beating frantically in his chest and his mind was going over all the things that could happen to his sons while he was gone.

What if Dean woke up and found him gone? What if someone tried to break into the motel room and kidnap his boys? What if someone found out that he had left his babies all alone? What if there was a fire? Damn it, what if there was fire?

The trip back to the motel was made as fast as he could without drawing attention to himself. The last thing he needed was to be pulled over by the police. John felt immediate relief when he turned the corner and the motel room came into sight. There weren't any police cars there to arrest him the second he stepped out of the car for leaving his boys alone. There weren't any strange men lurking around the building, trying to break in and steal his children. But, most importantly, there weren't any flames shooting out of the building or firetrucks pulled into the lot. There wasn't any fire.

He pulled the Impala into the space directly in front of the room he had rented, relieved to see that the lights were still off in the room. With any luck at all, both Sam and Dean would still be sound asleep, never having known that he was gone.

But, these days, John Winchester's luck had run out.

The first thing he noticed when he opened the door was the sound of his son sobbing into his pillow. John was surprised that Sam still appeared to be sleeping soundly even though Dean's sobs were echoing in the small room. John stepped over to the bed as fast as he could, guilt and grief washing over him at what he had put his son through. Dean hadn't even noticed that he was back, so when John leaned down and picked the boy up, calling his name gently in the process, Dean panicked.

Suddenly, John found himself with almost forty pounds of a kicking, screaming, biting, hitting five year old. Dean was fighting with everything he had in him and John was trying desperately to break through his son's panic.

"Dean!" he yelled loudly, not even caring that Sam was now awake and crying, too. "Dean, stop it! It's me, buddy. It's Daddy!"

Dean struggled for several more long seconds, but it was finally Sam's cries that broke through to him. Suddenly, he stopped fighting and looked over at Sam before turning his attention back to the man that was holding him. John felt the boy's body relax and then seconds later he was completely collapsed against John's chest.

"Hey, buddy," John soothed, rubbing his hand gently across Dean's back. "Hey, it's okay. I'm right here."

They stayed like that for several minutes- John trying to calm a terrified, sobbing Dean down while Sam cried on the bed next to them. Eventually, John sat down on the bed and pulled Sam over to him, as well. Now, with both arms full of tearful children and feeling like the worst father in the world, John gave in to his own tears. The three Winchesters sat like that for almost ten minutes before both boys eventually gave in to their exhaustion. John gently laid Sam down on the bed and then laid Dean down on the right side of the bed. He took a few minutes to put the supplies away, making sure to put the milk and juice into the small refrigerator in the corner of the room, and then made his way back to the bed. Without even bothering to take off is boots, John laid down in the middle of the bed and pulled both of his boys into his side.

Hours later, he was still there, wide awake as he held onto his sons and tried to figure out what the hell he was going to do.

The next morning he woke up to find Sam sitting up in the bed, gently poking him in the eye and giggling. John sat up and looked around, not relaxing until he found Dean sitting on the other bed, staring at him.

"Hey, Sammy," he said as he picked the baby up and pulled him to his chest. Sam immediately pushed himself away and looked over at his brother.

"De…" he said happily, reaching out his arms to Dean.

John hadn't been surprised a few days ago when Sam suddenly started saying that word. He, of course, was hoping that the kid's first word would be Dada, like other kids, but it didn't surprise him that it was his brother's name that came first. He easily remembered the look on Dean's face when the kid realized that his baby brother had said his name. John was a bit surprised, though, at how much it hurt, even though he knew that he really didn't deserve that honor.

More and more often, Sam was choosing his brother over his father, and John had to admit that it hurt. Before Mary's death, he and Sam had developed a special bond. John was usually the only one that could get the kid to go to sleep and whenever he woke up in the middle of the night, John was the one he wanted. Mary used to joke that Sam was exactly like his father in every way, but John didn't mind.

And if Sam was just like his father, then Dean was just like his mother. Sometimes, it was painful to look at Dean, because all he saw was Mary. Mary's same blond hair, Mary's same smile, Mary's same gentleness. It was almost too much to take.

John threw his legs over the side of the bed and stood up, tucking Sam into his hips. "Let's get that diaper changed, Sammy," he said as he walked over to the table where the bags were. Sam immediately started crying and reaching out for Dean.

"De!"

"Just a minute, Sam. Let's get you dressed first."

When Sam didn't stop crying for his brother, Dean stood up and walked over to them.

"I'll do it, Daddy," Dean said so quietly that John almost didn't hear.

"No, I got it, Dean," John answered, pulling a diaper out of the new box. "I want you to go get dressed, okay? And brush your teeth while you're in there."

"Sammy needs me, Daddy," Dean argued, obviously becoming more distressed at Sam's continued crying.

John looked at both of his boys, not really knowing what to do. "He needs his diaper changed, Dean. I don't think you're ready for that."

"Yes, I am! Mommy, uh…" Dean suddenly broke off and looked away from his dad. John's heart broke at the sadness that suddenly filled the room.

"Mommy, what, Dean?" he asked, thinking it might be better if they talked about her every so often.

Dean didn't answer at first, but eventually he did. "I used to help her change Sammy's diapers all the time," he said. "I know how to make sure he's clean and how to put the powder on. But, not too much powder because it makes him sneeze. I can do it, Daddy."

John still wasn't completely convinced, but after checking to see that it wasn't more than just a pee-soaked diaper, he gave in. "Okay, buddy. You can do it, but I'm right here if you need me."

Dean took Sam from John's arms and struggled slightly to carry him over to the bed. John watched from a few steps away as Dean went through the process of changing his little brother. The man had to admit that the kid did a good job. Other than the diaper being a little crooked and the small amount of powder that Dean had spilled, causing Sam to sneeze three times, everything was good.

John was amazed at how good Dean was with his little brother. It warmed his heart, but at the same time, nearly broke it when he realized how seriously Dean took his order to watch out for Sammy.

After watching Dean feed Sam and then watching as Dean picked at his own small breakfast of a banana and a muffin, John took a shower and got dressed. Twenty minutes later, he had Sam and Dean loaded up in the back seat of the Impala and he started driving. He had been driving for almost an hour when he noticed that Dean was staring at him.

"How's it going back there, kiddo?" he asked the somber boy.

"Sammy's playing," Dean replied.

"What about you? How are you doing?"

When Dean didn't answer, John hesitated to push the subject. Knowing that Dean was probably still upset about waking up to find his dad gone, John really wanted to just completely avoid the subject. But, he knew he couldn't. He had to broach the subject with his oldest, because he was sure that wouldn't be the last time he ever had to leave them alone for a short time. He also knew that he had to come up with a better plan than just driving around and living out of motels. The money he had saved up over the last five years was quickly dwindling.

"Dean? I asked you a question, son."

Dean hesitated again, before finally answering. "You left us, Daddy. I woke up and I couldn't find you."

John took several minutes to explain why he left them, knowing the whole time that nothing excused what he did. He knew that it wasn't something that Dean was going to understand, but there was a part of him that couldn't help but feel angry at the look of judgement on Dean's face. He was doing the best he could with what he had, right? Someday, Dean and Sam would both understand that.

Or, at least he hoped they would.

Author's note: Thank you all for the reviews on the first chapter. I hope you know how much it means to me, truly. And thanks so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I'd love to hear your thoughts.