Dawn Winchester?
Summary: Dawn isn't a magical clone, she's Buffy's daughter... and John's
Disclaimer: I don't own anything from either show. If you recognize it, it ain't mine
John hated getting old. And in this hunting business, over 45 was old. But while it may be a young man's game, it was his family's survival. The demon was still after them, and he would never stop as long as his boys were still in danger. He slipped out of his truck and stretched out his sore muscles. He had been driving for hours and needed gas. He knew that the boys thought that revenge was his biggest motivator, but the truth was that his need for revenge had changed over the last 23 years. It had hardened and smoldered in his heart until it had become lump of diamond hard determination. That thing would never kill another member of his family. That it had gotten Jessica was too close. It was after Sam, he had no doubt. Everything went after Sam. It never failed.
They could be sitting in the middle of a picnic in broad daylight on a sunday afternoon in a church yard, and still something would find Sammy. John shook his head as he started to fill up the gas tank. That one had caught him by surprise. Pastor Jim had just about had a heart attack. Dean had been very proud of himself after that one. He had defended his brother. Never mind that it was just a small water sprite. Dean had gotten the job done. The memory of Sammy soaking wet and half strangling his big brother with his arms clutched tight around Dean's neck was one he could now laugh at due to the look on Dean's face as he carried Sammy back to John. The returning hero. None of the other adults had realized what had happended that day, but John and Pastor Jim had. Dean had not just pulled Sammy out of water that was too deep for such a young child, he had vanquished his first supernatural creature. And all because John had made certain that Dean not only knew what was out there, but how to kill it as well. He hadn't had to teach Dean how to get the hugs and kisses from the girls that were there though. That was a natural Winchester ability. And he was pretty sure that Sammy wasn't the only one who had gotten extra sweets from the ladies in charge of the church picnic.
Hellhounds, he reminded himself. Bullets made from blessed silver, shot straight through the heart and followed by decapitation. He had the silver he mused as he paid for the gas and went back to the truck. He'd have to find a priest to bless them though. The machete should do the trick for the decapitation, and he'd need a place to burn the carcasses after. He looked up his list of contacts, hmmmm. Father Donnally in Boston wasn't too far out of his way. He'd bless the silver bullets John had and would probably feed him and stock him up on holy water and christening oil too. As he recalled Sister Kathrine had made a mean chocolate cake the last time he had visited.
John looked out for oncoming traffic as he pulled back onto the highway. Maybe soon he could send the boys through Boston. Dean loved chocolate cake.
