John Winchester came close to losing his children more than once.

Chapter Four: A hunt goes wrong – Part one

John flinched when he heard the shotgun going off. Once, twice, three times. His heart skipped a beat. The boys! Turning back on his tracks, he ran towards the sound of the shots, ducking tree branches as he ran, slipping from time to time, when the small gravel beneath his boots gave way.

They were hunting a creature that terrorized a small town. The people in town kept blaming the attacks on jackals, but John knew how to put two and two together, and jackals definitely didn't do that kind of damage. He had wanted to cover more ground before the sun set, so he and the boys split up. He thought he had sent them away from the tracks. Those gunshots told him he was wrong.

John cried out for Sam and Dean, but they didn't answer. His heart was pounding and he cursed himself for leaving the two alone. Sure, Dean was proving to be quite a skilled hunter, but he had Sammy with him. John cursed again. He could never really concentrate on a hunt when the children were near. He kept worrying about them instead of worrying about the danger ahead. He doubted Dean was any different, and quickened his pace.

Dean reminded him so much of his beloved Mary, it hurt to even look at him sometimes. The way he moved, his gestures and his gentleness reminded him of Mary. It hurt too much. John couldn't take it. So he molded his son into the soldier he now was, changing the way he moved, getting rid of most of the gestures and the tenderness, most of the things that reminded John so much of Mary. It was a little better, but on the other hand, he had lost another part of her. And another part of his son. Now all he had left was Sammy.

Sammy, that little chubby twelve-year-old that has yet decided if he liked hunting, or feared it. Sammy, who at the moment, was in great danger.

John cried out Dean's name, and then Sam's. He could see Dean not far from there, but couldn't see Sam anywhere. John rushed over to his son. Dean was sprawled on the ground, unmoving. The shotgun lied not far from him, but still, too far if he needed to protect himself. John picked the gun up before rushing to his son's side, checking for his pulse. He sighed in relief when he felt the strong pulse under his finger. It took John a mere second to wake Dean up, helping him to sit up and resting his back against a tree.

Dean had a bleeding wound to the side of his head, and John suspected he had the concussion to go with it. It took Dean a moment to get his bearings straight. He had to squint his eyes to get them to focus, leading John to suspect it wasn't such a minor concussion. He put his hand on his son's shoulder and asked him what happened. Dean struggled to think for a second. It surprised them, he said, it came from behind, and it was too fast and too quiet.

"Where's Sam, Dean?" John asked anxiously. Dean squinted at him for a moment, and then sprung to his feet, nearly falling down again. John supported him. "Which way, Dean? Which way did it take him?" Dean looked around, stabilizing himself against his father, and John saw fear in his eyes. And then Dean sprung away from him, half-running, half-stumbling, following a trail that even John was having a hard time keeping up. Somewhere, behind the fear for Sam, the guilt of leaving his sons alone and the need to focus on the task ahead, John was extremely proud of his sixteen year old son.

And then he saw it; saw where the trail was leading them to. A cave, just by the lake. It was hidden by all the trees, but Dean had spotted it, and now John did, too. John felt another surge of pride fill his chest. That boy was turning into quite a hunter. He told Dean to stay back, but either Dean didn't hear him, or simply didn't listen, since he didn't even slow down, getting in the cave and calling out Sammy's name. Reckless. Very reckless.

John followed his son into the cave, his gun drawn and ready. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust to the darkness inside the cave. He fumbled through his pockets, reaching for the flashlight, never lowering his gun or his guard. Dean held up his lighter, reaching deeper into the dark, damp cave, and John followed him quickly, putting his hand on his older son's shoulder.

"Careful!" he cautioned. Dean nodded, letting his father take the lead. John turned quickly when he heard Dean gasp. "Dean?"

"I'm fine, I just slipped." Dean said through gritted teeth. John aimed the flashlight at his son's face and Dean shielded his eyes.

"Why won't you wait outside, Dean? I'll take care of it." John said. The wound on the side of Dean's head was still bleeding, the blood trickling down Dean's cheek. Dean didn't say anything. He simply walked past his father and continued deeper down the cave. John stopped him. "Stay behind me." He said.

"I'm not just going to wait outside!"

"Just stay behind me, Dean. That's an order!" John snapped. Dean clenched and unclenched his jaw, but then nodded.

"Yes, sir." He said, waiting for John to go first.

The first thing they noticed was the smell. Smoke, with a tinge of sulfur mixed with putrid moss.

"Dad…"

"I smell it too." John said quietly. "Careful." He cautioned again, squeezing through the narrow passageway and risking a glance back to make sure Dean was doing all right. Dean's eyes widened.

"Dad!" he gasped. John quickly turned, gun ready, but he didn't see a thing. Dean was standing a little higher up than he was. Taking a few steps forward, he saw the sight his son did, and his heart missed a beat. Sammy was lying in a puddle, but it wasn't clear if it was another water puddle, or if the murky water was stained by his blood. The creature they were hunting was right atop him, feeding on his son. And then something happened that John never expected, never dreamed would happened. He froze. But Dean didn't.

"Sammy, no!" Dean cried, running forward to his brother, reaching for his gun and shooting at the creature. It snarled, its snout red with Sam's blood. Dean's bullets hit their mark, but not enough to kill it. And now it was angry. John watched in horror as it lunged at Dean, throwing him across the cave. Dean's body crashed with the side of the cave with a sickening thud, and he crumbled to the ground in an unconscious heap.

"No!" John screamed, raising his gun and emptying the entire clip into the creature, nearing him and putting the last two bullets through its head. John felt his chest constricting, making it too hard to breathe. It felt like someone had a belt around his chest and was pulling it tighter and tighter. He rushed to Sam's side, and was alarmed to find just how much of the puddle his son was lying in was comprised of his own blood. Sam's pulse was faint. The gash in his side was deep, exposing his internal organs. John quickly took out the first aid kit, but there was no dressing large enough. He took his own shirt off, ripping it and using to try and stop the bleeding. He called out for Dean, but Dean didn't answer. John hesitated. Sam's condition was extremely serious. He kept pressure to the wound, still assessing the severity of the injury, but he needed to know Dean was all right, and Dean wouldn't answer. Making one of the hardest choices of his life, John took Sam's hand, placing it over the shirt he used to stop the bleeding, and went over to Dean.

As he feared, Dean was unconscious again, and with his earlier head wound, John got worried. It was harder to wake him up than it should have been, and he was extremely slow.

"Dean, I'm going to get you and your brother out of here, but I need you to follow me. I can't carry the both of you. Do you understand?" John asked apprehensively as Dean stared at him. "Dean?"

"I think so." Dean said slowly. John helped him to his feet, watching worriedly as his son took a couple of unsteady steps. Dean nodded slowly. "I'm fine, dad. Help Sammy!" he said, almost pleaded. Dean was standing up on his own. At any other time, John would still be worried at the severity of his injury, but right now, Sam's condition was far more pressing.

John lifted his youngest boy in his arms and ran out of the cave, hoping Dean was keeping up. Light blinded him as he came out of the cave, forcing him to stop for a second and wait for his eyes to adjust to the blinding daylight. It was just as well, because Dean was sure taking his time. He came out of the cave, drenched in sweat, just as John was about to head back inside to look for him. John motioned Dean to follow him back to the car, and the two started running. Time was running out. The shirt John had wrapped around his son's body was already soaked in blood, and Sam's breathing came in shallow, labored gasps.

"Hold on, Sammy." John kept telling him as he ran, "I'm going to get you help, you're going to be okay. Just hold on, son."

It took John a couple of minutes to realize Dean was no longer following him, but Sam's condition didn't allow him to stop. He kept running until he got to his truck, laying his son gently in the back seat and checking on the wound again. He grimaced, frowning. He had to get Sam to a hospital right away, there was no time to waste. Sam was already too pale from the loss of blood, his lips were blue, his breathing labored. But Dean was nowhere to be seen. Forced to make another excruciating decision, John left Sam in the car and went back for his eldest boy.

He found Dean five minutes later, sitting on the muddy ground, his back leaning against a tree, his head slumped back, eyes closed.

"Dean?" John called out for him, but Dean didn't respond. "Dean!" Dean jerked his head back up, looking questioningly around. John crouched by his side as he tried to get up.

"I'm fine," Dean breathed, too tired to get up. He surrendered, leaning heavily back against the tree and fighting his nausea. "I just need to close my eyes for a couple of minutes." But John forced him to his feet. Even if Sam wasn't bleeding to death in the car, he still wouldn't have let Dean stay there. He was worried about Dean passing out again after already receiving quite a blow to the head. Both his sons needed medical attention, and they both needed it right away.

John dragged Dean back to the truck, shoving him in the back seat before he had the chance to open the door to the passenger's side. John quickly got in the car and started it, driving as fast as he could. He glanced in the rear view mirror and cursed, pulling hard on the breaks. He got out of the car again, opening the door to the back seat, and slapped Dean's cheeks, yelling at him to wake up. Dean's reactions were alarmingly slow.

"You have to stay awake, Dean, you hear me?" John demanded. Dean stared at him, fighting to keep his eyes open. And then let out a short breath, closing his eyes again and letting his head drop. "Dean, no! You have to stay awake!"

"Just two seconds…" Dean pleaded.

"No, Dean, listen to me!" John forced Dean to look at him. "You have to put pressure on Sam's wound. You have to stop the bleeding, do you understand? Dean, Sam's dying, I need your help. Can you hear me?" John raised his voice, not sure Dean was listening. Dean forced his eyes open.

"Sammy?"

"Sam's dying, Dean. I need your help." John said quickly. Dean nodded slowly, turning to his side and pulling Sam to him, putting pressure on the wound. John watched him for a moment, making sure he wasn't passing out again, before returning to the driver's seat and flooring the gas pedal. It always amazed John how Dean would just put aside his own pain – no matter how serious the injury – for his brother's. John kept glancing at the rear view mirror, but Dean stayed awake, doing his best to help his wounded brother.

The trip to the hospital should have lasted about an hour. John made it in a little over twenty minutes.

A/N: Okay, so again, I'm stopping here, but this time not only because I think it's long enough, but also because I have a fever, I'm dead tired and I wanted to be able to update. I hope the next part will be up soon. Tell me what you think so far, there's no cure better than reviews! Also, I know I'm focusing more on John and Dean, but it's mostly because I'm trying to tell the story from John's POV, and since Dean is… well, Dean, he's more likely to get hurt, protecting Sam and such, so bear with me, enjoy the show, and Review, of course...