Timeline- Consider this a flashback! We are going way back to the beginning when John and the boys go to Windom to find 12-year-old Adam. This story could be read between Chapter 1 and Chapter 2.
-/-
John stood at the bottom of the staircase, one hand on the railing and one foot lingering on the first stair step, listening to the sniffles and sobs coming from one of the upper bedrooms.
Adam's room.
He unconsciously licked his lips in deliberation, hesitating on the bottom stair. A good father would have hurried up with no hesitation, rushed in and scooped up his young son to give him the comfort the child desperately needed. But John Winchester wasn't a good father. He knew that. Accepted it most of the time. It's not like he didn't want to be a good dad to his boys, he did. He tried. But over and over again he was faced with his own failures and a universe that seemed determined to make his family suffer.
Adam barely even knew him as a father. John recognized that. For Adam, John was more of a friend or babysitter than any type of father figure. John only had himself to blame for that. He only made trips to Windom a few times a year and then for only a day or two at a time. John's visits may have been few and far between, but Kate had always made sure that they were pleasant and memorable for both John and Adam.
Kate had managed to offer him all the joy of being a parent without any of the burdens of parenting.
She'd been clear early on in Adam's life that John was a feature, not a staple. She seemed to think of John as an accessory to her own life, something that she enjoyed but could live without. The feeling of being 'extra' in a person's life was an odd and uncomfortable feeling for John, and once he recognized it, something he pushed out of his mind, never to think of again. He was happy enough to revel in his time with Kate and enjoy a child in ways he hadn't been able to since Dean was tiny.
John would fly into to town to soak up Kate's cooking and her womanly attention, cuddling baby Adam and relishing in his tiny hands and sweet, soft baby smells. Months would go by and when he returned he'd bring wine and takeout, spending time savoring a wiggly little baby that pulled on his ears and stuffed tiny fingers up his nose. Years and years passed this way, John showing up and being welcomed briefly into their lives. If Adam ever questioned it, John never knew. The boy never said a word to him. John was aware that the kid wanted more, that much was clear just from his wise little eyes, but he never said anything out loud and for that John was deeply thankful to Kate.
It wasn't all easy. There were times when he'd call, just a few hours out from Windom, and her voice would be tired and strained. She never told him not to come, but John was sure she'd probably considered it a million times. When he could tell that she was unhappy, stretched thin by the strain of her life, John would do what he did best: turn up the charm to get what he wanted. If he had stopped to think about what he was doing, he would have felt bad, so he never did, keeping his focus on getting what he needed.
Biting his lip, John shook his head at his own evil selfishness. It was the same selfishness that had gotten Kate killed. If he would have just left her alone… Shaking his head to clear the thought, John glanced up the stairs at the sounds of sobbing.
He walked slowly up the stairs, following the sounds to Adam's bedroom, the same room that had held his crib which he'd almost never slept in as a baby since Kate preferred to keep him close in bed with her. He tapped lightly on the door, gently pushing it open to see his son buried in blankets up to his ears, young face pushed deep into the pillow, trying to muffle the sound of his despair.
"Adam…" John called softly, the sight of his son's grief bringing forth all the soft paternal urges he'd hadn't realized he'd lost over the years.
Adam didn't acknowledge him, probably didn't even hear him. John walked closer to the bed, gently laying a hand on Adam's back, causing his son to go quiet and still.
"Adam…son," John said hesitantly, realizing only as he spoke that he didn't really know what to say.
Gently moving his hand up to rub the hair on the back of Adam's head, John wished he could take his son's pain. He'd willingly suffer anything, anything, if it would spare his children.
"How about you come downstairs?" he offered, still gently rubbing Adam's hair, "Watch some tv with me a while huh?"
Adam turned in the pillow, peeking out one puffy, tear-filled eye to look up at his father.
"Some late night tv might help you relax a little bit…" John continued, softly wiping away the lingering wetness from Adam's cheek.
Adam hesitated a moment and John was sure that'd he said the wrong thing. That he should have just left the kid alone. That Adam hated him. Hated the curse of John Winchester that had tainted his family.
"Yeah…ok…" Adam whispered finally, rubbing his running nose on his pillow and pushing himself up.
"Good," John nodded, stepping back and grabbing a blanket from the end of Adam's bed, "They always show the really good old westerns at night you know…"
Adam nodded absently as John tousled his hair and put a gentle hand on his shoulder to lead the boy downstairs.
The television was still on where John had left it and the small screen flickered, bathing the room in a soft glow of blue and white as the sounds of infomercials hummed in the background.
John led Adam to the couch where he had been sitting, across the room from the side by side sleeping bags of his other two sons, each turned away from the light of the television and breathing deeply in sleep.
"Here you go," John whispered, putting the blanket over Adam's lap when the boy sat down on the couch.
John sat down as well, tucking himself back into the cozy corner of the couch where he'd spent memorable nights with Kate, reaching automatically for the glass of whiskey he'd place on the table beside it. Propping his feet up on the table in front of them, he leaned back grabbing the remote from beside Adam and started flipping through the channels.
Adam sat next to him awkwardly, a tight coil of discomfort and uncertainty.
"Ah…here," John said, settling on a black and white channel with images John Wayne in full western attire, swaggering up to a horse, "You can never go wrong with The Duke,"
Adam glanced at him in confusion but said nothing.
"Come on kiddo," John said softly, motioning to a spot on the couch closer to him, "Just relax ok?"
Adam hesitated again, but John could clearly see when Adam's need of consolation overcame the uncertainty he felt. The boy scooted closer on the couch, nestling himself next to John.
John easily put his arm around his son, treasuring in the comfort of the moment. It had been so long since Sam or Dean had sat with him this way. Probably before Sam was the age Adam was now.
They settled in on the couch watching the old classic, John slowly draining his whiskey glass in one hand and absently stroking Adam's shoulder with the other. Not surprisingly, it wasn't long before John heard the recognizable sounds of his son drifting off to sleep.
The volume was low on the television, so John made no move to turn it off, lest the abrupt silence wake one of the boys. As he gently set down his empty glass, he felt a sudden, profound moment of awareness. He looked down at Adam, his chest rising and falling in a calm sleep, then around the room to the still and quiet forms of Sam and Dean in their sleeping bags and he felt the unfamiliar feeling of awe. Despite the tragedy that had taken them by surprise and brought them together, John couldn't help by be moved by the sight of all three of his boys peacefully asleep, all together.
The sight was something John had never considered to be a possibility.
/-/-/-/
Minutes or hours might have passed before a soft sound shook John from sleep. He didn't move, still feeling the warm weight of his youngest son asleep against his chest, instead only opening his eyes to scan the room.
Automatically he glanced over to his older sons and immediately saw that Sam was gone, his sleeping bag flipped back and open. An involuntary bud of panic began to build inside him at the sight and John tried to remain calm.
It wasn't unusual for Sam to get up in the night. The kid was a notoriously bad sleeper. He'd been amazing as a tiny infant, sleeping through the night much earlier than Dean ever had, much to the surprise and pleasure of both his parents. But since the night of the fire, that terrible night, Sam's sleeping had never been the same. John had a hard time believing that a 6-month-old could have nightmares, but he had no other explanation for the nightly episodes that would have his infant son suddenly screaming at the top of his little lungs as if he'd been stuck with a red hot pin. The piercing sound would send both John and Dean jumping from their beds in a panic, little Dean silently hovering close by as John picked Sam up and turn him over and over and searching for the cause of the baby's pain. Sometimes the only thing John could do was take Sam outside into the cool, crisp night air to wake him up and startle the baby out of his fit. The nightly screaming episodes slowed over time, especially once John put baby Sam into bed with Dean. John didn't like the idea of the two of them sharing a bed at such a young age, afraid that Sam might fall out or Dean might roll over on top of him, but from the moment the boys were together they both seemed to sleep better. Little Dean would curl himself around Sam, one arm around his baby brother's waist, his nose touching the back of Sam's head, and Sam would sigh a little baby sigh, making John's heart melt.
As Sam grew older the nightmares seemed to stop, although he and Dean shared a bed far longer than boys of their age should have, and even then Sam would be awake in the middle of the night. So much so that when Sam was around 8, after months of being up in the middle of the night and fighting Sam about going back to sleep, John was forced to instill a new rule for his boy. He agreed that Sam could get up in the night and could read or get a snack, but he had to be quiet and not wake Dean and no matter how long he was up in the middle of the night he was still expected to get up on time for morning PT and make it to school.
John worried for a long time about Sam's lack of sleep, but the boy never seemed to suffer much from it. He'd fall asleep in the car and take catnaps during the day, and once John stopped fighting Sam about sleeping all night, things seemed to be a little easier for them all. Sam was almost 16 now and at least a few nights a week John would hear the soft sounds of Sam waking up, searching around for his latest book and reading by flashlight. Dean was used to the sounds as well and John would often meet his oldest's single cracked eye when Dean looked up from a dead sleep to confirm the sound was his brother and not something else.
As John listened in the quiet room he heard the sound of a floorboard creak behind him and he craned his neck to see Sam standing at the edge of the living room, a small glass of water in his hand.
John met his eye but didn't say anything and Sam looked back at him blankly. The moment was heavy between them and John could feel Sam's turmoil as his eyes scanned down John's chest to where Adam was leaned against him, snoring softly.
John made a nod towards Sam's sleeping bag, indicating that Sam should go back to sleep, but Sam didn't move immediately like John hoped he would.
Sam stood still watching Adam and John, just long enough to confirm what John already knew, that Sam was just as angry, hurt and upset about Adam and Kate as his older brother.
John appreciated that both boys had not outright challenged him about the situation yet, Dean's work he was sure. He knew Dean was struggling to hold in his anger about John's lie and the kid was doing everything in his power to make sure Sam kept his mouth shut too. John was thankful for that. He'd told both boys that no wasn't the time to talk about his 'secret family' as Sam had called them. He just needed time to deal with Adam, to figure out what do to and how to handle everything that had been thrown at him, before he dealt with the fallout of his past with the older boys.
John watched as Sam shuffled back over to his sleeping bag next to Dean, sitting down and scooting in next to his brother. Earlier John had suggested that the older boys sleep in Adam's room, hoping that their presence would help Adam in the same way it had helped Sam all those years ago. Dean, however, was not in a charitable mood and awkwardly insisted that they'd be fine on the floor of the living room. At that point, John didn't have the energy to make it an order and insist that Sam and Dean stay with Adam, so he let the issue drop watching instant relief on all the boy's faces, including Adam.
As Sam settled back into his sleeping bag, Dean unconsciously threw his arm over his brother's back, a habitual move John recognized from their childhood.
With a soft smile on his lips, he looked away from his older boys and back down to his youngest, resting a warm hand on his back before letting his own eyes close once again.
-/-/-
John was grateful when the funeral was over. He wasn't even 50 years old yet and seemed to be racking up more tragedies than he felt fair for a man his age.
After the funeral, it was all business: lawyers, police, child protection services and on and on. Despite John's name being on Adam's birth certificate, Adam had been 'Adam Milligan' since birth and no one in Windom knew the name Winchester, much less the man attached to it. Few people outside of Kate's closest friends even knew John existed and even her very best friends were surprised when he came to town to stake a claim on his child.
Windom was a small town and Kate had created a created a community of support for herself and Adam. Friends at the hospital where she worked, close neighbors and parents of kids in Adam's school all wanted to look out for Adam, to get more information on the mysterious father who showed up suddenly.
John was used to being viewed with suspicion. Almost all the cases he went on required that he talk with victims or witness who had already spoken with police and always wanted to know why they had to tell their story yet again to another person with a badge. He was used to relying on his charm, quick wit, and innate likeability to get people to do what he wanted.
But this was different.
Now he had to be the real 'John Winchester' and had to provide forms of legitimate verification to prove he was who he said he was to the all the suspicious people in Kate's life. He respected that they were each trying to do their due diligence and protect Adam, a kid that they probably knew better than he did, but the constant mistrustful stares and questions about his life irritated John. He was a private person by nature and hated that each person he spoke with tried to make him justify his absence in Adam's life.
John was sitting at the kitchen table with the boys, half-heartedly reading the newspaper over a cup of coffee dreading their next visit with the town lawyer, while each boy poured bowls of cereal and milk for breakfast.
Habitually scanning the newspaper pages for words that would indicate something unusual or supernatural, John suddenly noticed that Adam wasn't eating, just staring into his bowl of slowly saturating cereal.
"Adam, eat your breakfast. We've gotta go see the lawyer this morning," John reminded him.
Adam didn't move and didn't acknowledge him and the disobedience caught the attention of the older boys, who glanced at each other and then back to John, waiting to see how their father would handle such an insubordinate act.
"Adam," John said gently, putting down the newspaper and putting a hand on Adam's arm, which was resting near his bowl.
Adam pulled his arm away sharply, tucking it into his lap but didn't look up.
"Adam," John said again, keeping his voice as kind as he could manage, "Eat some breakfast son,"
Adam closed his eyes tightly, contorting his face into perfect toddler pout, "I don't want to,"
John felt Sam and Dean exchange looks again, both on the edge of their seats to see how their father would deal with Adam. They both knew, as John did, that if they ever acted this way, even well before the age of 12, their backsides would pay the price.
John sighed. He had to decide what he was going to do. He didn't have the same fatherly relationship with Adam that he had with Sam and Dean. He'd never punished the boy, never had to. Kate always made sure that when John arrived Adam was on his best behavior and always had something fun and easy for them to do together, like grabbing ice cream for dinner or already having tickets to a local baseball game. The kid was a delight, excited to be doing something different and excited to be with John. They'd hang out for a little while and then Adam would be sent off to bed or off to a friend's house so that John could get what he really came for. John really had no experience with Adam being anything other than a good, easy to please kid.
"Sam, Dean," he said, glancing across the table at the two expecting stares, "Take a walk," he said, nodding toward the living room.
Sam opened his mouth, no doubt to protest being told to leave in the middle of a meal, but Dean cut him off.
"Come on, Sammy," he said grabbing both his own bowl and his brother's, before standing up and walking out of the room.
Sam gave a quiet huff of annoyance but followed Dean out of the room, leaving only Adam and John at the table.
John sighed again and turned so that he was fully facing Adam.
"Adam," he said, his voice less gentle this time.
Adam still didn't look up or make any move to acknowledge his father.
"Adam, look at me, son," John said, letting his voice drop into his natural 'take no shit' timbre and gratefully Adam finally did look up.
"I know you don't want to eat," he said, being as gentle as he could, rationalizing with Adam the same way he had with Sam when he was young and being obstinate "But your body needs the food, needs the energy."
Adam looked away again, pout firmly in place on his young face, "No. You can't make me,"
John's first thought was 'Oh, yes I can make you', but he held his tongue and tried to stay calm and remember just how deeply his young son was suffering.
John reached out and put a gentle hand on Adam's shoulder, "I won't make you eat. Not right now, but…"
Adam glanced up at him warily.
"but if you continue to not eat, you'll force my hand and I will have to make you."
Adam looked at John skeptically but kept quiet.
John was quiet for a moment as well, contemplating what he wanted to say to his young son.
Clearing his throat, John took his hand off Adam's shoulder, leaning on the table and propping his elbows up on it.
"Adam, you're my son, " he said seriously, "and maybe somewhere along the line, I became your friend, but…you know should know…first and foremost I'm your father. Your mother and me, we had an understanding. She wanted to do things her way and I was good with that, but now…"
John sighed, trying to push back the misery that was beginning to choke him, "but now…things are different and it's my job to raise you right. It's my job to prepare you."
He paused, taking in Adam's confused expression.
"What I'm saying is this: your disrespect won't fly much longer. Maybe you've noticed how Sam and Dean act? Say 'yes sir' and 'no sir'? I expect you to do the same."
John watched as Adam glared at him and then his eyes began to fill with tears.
"I just want my mom," he said quietly, his lip quivering.
"Oh son," John said dropping his seriousness immediately, grabbing Adam's arm, pulling him up from the chair into a crushing hug.
"I know. I know," he whispered into Adam's hair, feeling tears of his own slide down his cheeks. "I know."
-/-
Two weeks later John and the boys were on the road, Windom long in the rearview and a seemingly endless road of monsters ahead of them.
"Adam, dinner," John called as he and the older boys got ready to eat in the kitchenette of the motel room they were all calling home for the evening somewhere outside Madison, Wisconsin.
They'd gotten to the room a few hours earlier after John decided they needed a break from their road trip to North Carolina where Bobby had given them a lead on a potential case. John and Dean had gone out to grab dinner, leaving Sam and Adam alone in the room, since they were still getting along better than Adam and Dean.
Standing at the table, pulling burgers from one of the take out bags in front of him, John looked across the room. Adam was curled up on one of the two beds, facing the wall, resolutely ignoring his father's call.
"Adam, come eat," he called again, letting a little force bleed into his voice.
The older boys glanced at each other and Dean shrugged, grabbing the other take out bag and digging out a handful of French fries.
"Adam…" Sam called softly, making a move toward his younger brother.
"Sit down Sam," John said firmly, pushing the bag of food away and walking over to his youngest son, moving around the bed until he was standing in Adam's eye line.
"Come on son. Get up and let's eat," John said, trying to balance his demands with the care he wanted to show Adam.
"No," Adam said sharply, glaring past John into the fading wallpaper behind him.
John was momentarily taken aback. It was rare that he heard outright defiance from any of his boys even Sam, with his developing rebelliousness, knew better.
He wanted to cut Adam some slack, he really did. He'd lost his mom less than a month ago and been thrown into a world of monsters. Add to that the stubborn bastard of a father and two surly older brothers he'd gained in the process and it was no wonder why the kid was acting like a jerk.
But, John reminded himself Adam was on the road now and needed to be initiated into the way real Winchester life worked. Despite how much John wanted to sit down and stroke his boy's hair and wipe the tear tracks off his face, he knew he couldn't do that. He'd indulged Adam's silences and sullen disrespect while they were in Windom tying up the loose ends of Kate's estate, but now things had to change. He couldn't coddle the boy any more than he already had. He had to get tough and lay down the law.
It took everything John had to harden himself against the pity that was threatening to undo his resolve. He solemnly grit his teeth and made himself reach down and pull his son up from the bed to his feet. Keeping his hand firmly around Adam's upper arm, he leaned down until he was eye level with his boy.
"In this family, you follow orders," he said, letting the unspoken threat darken his voice.
Adam stared at him and sniffed, "I don't want to."
John tried to muster up the anger that would have normally flowed automatically if Sam had said the same thing, but he could only feel empathy for the boy. Still, he set his jaw and scowled at his youngest, feigning the rage he didn't feel.
"Listen to me son. You can go over there and sit down or I will sit you down and you'll be doing it with a sore ass, you hear me?"
John watched Adam's eyes go wide and his son cut his eyes to the side, glancing at his older brothers to judge if the threat was valid. Two matching somber stares looked back at him and Adam seemed to consider his father's words more seriously.
Adam swallowed thickly, "Ok," he murmured.
John didn't let go of his son's arm, instead giving him a small squeeze in warning "You say 'yes sir',"
Adam was silent for only a half second before he surrendered and whispered the demanded "Yes sir,"
John let go of Adam's arm and stepped out of the boy's way as he walked over to the small table to join his brothers.
God, how John wished it could be different. How he wished he didn't have to be so unyielding with his children. He wished he could have the joyful, friendly relationship he'd once had with Adam with all his sons. But that wasn't what their lives were anymore. Maybe it was never meant to be that way.
-/-
A/N- I'm considering reordering the chapters of this story when I post next time to make it a little more chronological, since I know I tend to jump around a lot ( sorry just gotta follow the inspiration when it comes!) would that be helpful? Are there any moments or ideas that you might like to see worked into the story? Thank you all for reading and reviewing and sticking around! I love getting to talk with you about the show, the story, and all the great ideas they both bring! Thank you!