Past
Past is a beautiful, ugly pain.
John sat, legs spread, whiskey in hand. It was a day that called for more than beer. Of course, the only time it didn't was when the price was too dear.
His gaze was aimed at the TV, but the football didn't process through from iris to optic nerve. All that was seen in his mind was his wedding day, his beautiful bride; time together with their children; the flame and fire; Mary's torn womb dripping blood to the nursery floor.
Anger roared through, as hot as the flame. He would rip to shreds the thing that took his wife, and every other damn thing set upon taking other people's wives and loved ones.
He'd destroy them all, and make damn sure his boys had the drive and know how to do so too.
Present
Present is clear and vibrant.
Dean's present changed with the moment, and in each of those moments, he did what needed doing.
He heard yelling so he got up. He saw fire, so he got scared. He saw his mother… so he froze.
His father ordered him to carry his brother to safety, and even though he'd only ever been allowed to hold Sammy while sitting, he did as told, clutching the baby to his chest as he walked down the steps, adjusting his hold so he could unlock, and open the door, then carried Sam outside.
Time went by.
Dad was in a haze, not seeming to notice the baby's cries, so Dean fed Sam and himself too.
More time passed.
Whatever may come, be it caring for Sam, learning to fight, killing monsters, or enjoying a night on the town, Dean lived in that moment, in the present.
He'd learned young that the past hurt and the future was no guarantee.
Future
Future is a hazy dream.
Sam couldn't understand either his father or his brother. Dad was caged by his past. Dean couldn't seem to see two days ahead of where they were right now. All Sam wanted was a future that didn't resemble either his past or current life.
He fantasized about a normal life. A quiet, 4 door sedan, parked in a cluttered garage. A bed with the same sheets and same pillow, night after night, and his own bedroom door to shut out the world. Friendships that would last years. Home cooked meals eaten at a table. At least one parent that you could trust would be there every day of the year to ask about your day and to go to work and bring home enough to pay the bills.
And since those things weren't in his present, Sam was determined to make damn sure he'd have them in his future.
He did every assignment the teachers assigned. Hell, he did 'em twice, just so he could keep a spare copy to turn into the next teacher to prove what he knew when he showed up at a new school with no transfer grades.
He made his own portfolio of schoolwork to haul along. He worked ahead in the textbooks encase the next school was ahead of his current teacher's lessons.
And when the time came, he took the mandated test, aced them, and applied to colleges and applied for scholarships.
He was going to get that future he dreamed of. All it would take is planning, work, and defying his brother and father.
Past is a beautiful, ugly pain.
Present is clear and vibrant.
Future is a hazy dream.
John, Dean, Sam,
The past, the present, and the future.