Okay...and now, before you go hunting John down and shoot him like a dog...I give you Part Two.
Title: Confessions
Author: ShaedowCat (aka Me)
Beta: Sparrow Lover (again...how sad...I made her look over her own Request Fic...) Sammy girl at heart, kina24, and key of darkness. What can I say? I'm a beta-junkie...
Characters: Dean, Sam, John, Pastor Jim(!)
Summary: Something Wicked aftermath.
Notes: A First Review Request Fic for Sparrow Lover. The prompt was "younger fic...either Dean first looking out for Sam...or right after the Shtriga incident".
I picked the Shtriga incident.
First Review Request Fic goes to Sammy girl at heart...blah blha woof woof yada yada yada...it's on it's way...
Thank-you to Sammy giral at heart, Sparrow Lover, Evergreene, Boleyn, MacCartney, Thru Terry's Eyes, Spuffyshipper, & Ghostwriter...your reviews mean alot!
Several hours later, Jim awoke to the soft strains of Johnny Cash. He glanced at the alarm clock: 6.00 am. He considered going back to sleep for another hour or so - he'd only gotten about six hours sleep, after all - but decided to get up once he remembered the reason for said lack-of-sleep: Dean and Sam were here.
He'd better get up, he realized, and hide all the cookies, lollipops, cereals...anything containing sugar. The last thing he needed was a hyperactive five-year-old on his hands. In the storeroom, this time, he reminded himself as he pulled on his dressing-robe. The last time the Winchesters had graced his home with their presence, he'd hidden all the sugary things at the top of the pantry...which a four-year-old Sam had promptly scaled, before proceeding to eat an entire packet of chocolate cookies, a jar of molasses, and half a bar of nougat. Jim shuddered at the memory of the hyped-up four-year-old.
Never again, he thought fervently as he stepped out of the bedroom and headed down the hall. As he neared the room where Dean and Sam were sleeping he slowed, coming to a stop when he was right outside the door. Turning the door-knob, he gently pushed the door open and peeked inside.
Dean was asleep on his stomach, one arm curled around his pillow, his hand doubtless clutching the knife John had purchased for his last birthday. Sam was snugged up to his side, little hands clutched in Dean's shirt, his head resting on Dean's shoulder blade. Both boys were dead to the world.
Gingerly, Jim shut the door again. He'd let them rest a while longer...Dean especially. Turning, he continued his way back down the hall, heading downstairs.
He'd just walked into the kitchen when the purr of the Impala's engine entered his hearing, along with the crunch of gravel being crushed under the car's weight. The sound increased in volume as the car came closer and closer, then cut out completely as the engine was turned off. There was a faint creak as the driver's side door was opened, then again as it was closed, and then John's distinctive tread could be heard as the man circled the house, heading for the back door. Jim met him there, opening the door and allowing him entrance.
"How'd it go?" he asked. John sighed.
"Damn thing gave me the slip," he replied, his voice raspy with fatigue. "I looked for it everywhere...checked the sites of all the previous attacks, the motel where we were staying, the hospital..."
"Hospital?" Jim's brow furrowed in a frown.
"Yeah. All of the attacks were grouped around the Fort Douglas Community Hospital...I figured maybe the shtriga was using it as its base of operations...maybe acting as one of the patients."
"Any of the patients check-out last night?"
John gave a frustrated laugh. "As a matter of fact, yes...twenty of them. Ten were from out of state, and the other ten I checked out immediately. They were clean."
"So what happens now?" Jim queried. John shrugged.
"I'm not quite sure...I guess it depends on how much life-force the witch got. If she got enough, she'll probably go back to sleep for another seventeen years or so...if she didn't, she'll just move on to another town, and I'll hunt her down again." He scrubbed a hand over his face. "But I don't want to think about that now. Christ, I'm tired."
"Do you want some coffee?" Jim asked, ignoring the blasphemy...really, in the great scheme of things, it wouldn't count for much. John hesitated, then nodded.
"Yeah, sure...I'm just going to go up and check on the boys first. I just need to make sure they're okay."
Jim nodded then turned away to put the coffee on. He barely heard John leave the kitchen, and he didn't hear him at all as he walked up the stairs; even tired, the man moved with a hunter's quiet.
A few minutes later, John came back downstairs.
"They'll be up in a little bit," he stated as he sat down. Jim handed him a cup of coffee; he took it with a muttered "thanks" and gulped down half, ignoring the burn.
"And then the real fun will begin," Jim said lightly, sitting down opposite him. John cracked a tight smile.
"I'm not sure having the two of them tearing around this place at a hundred miles an hour should be termed as 'fun', Jim," he replied. Jim nodded.
There was a moment's silence.
"I shouldn't have left them," John whispered, and Jim noted the parallel between the man's words and his son's. "I shouldn't...but I had to go after the shtriga...that damn witch...it was only for a couple of days..."
"Three days," Jim corrected quietly. John nodded.
"...three days...and I've left them for longer, but...maybe Dean isn't old enough...I thought...I thought maybe he'd be able to look after Sammy..."
"He can, John," Jim reminded him. John sighed, gestured impatiently.
"Yes, I know he can. He looks after him just fine...it's just, maybe a few days at a time is too much responsibility for him."
"He is only nine, John," the pastor pointed out. John grinned ruefully.
"Yeah. I know. I forget sometimes. He's just...he seems so much older." He sighed and dropped his face into his hands. "He's Mary's son, through-and-through...he takes after her so much..." he muttered. Jim nodded.
"He certainly does," he replied.
The two men sat in silence for a few minutes, John still with his head in his hands, Jim quietly drinking his coffee.
"I can't keep dragging them all over the place," John said finally, and Jim glanced at him. "I can't keep relying on Dean to look after Sammy...it's not fair to him. They should...I should let them stay somewhere safe, while I'm away, hunting." He looked up finally, his dark brown eyes meeting Jim's own. He shifted uncomfortably, and there was a long pause. "Do you think...would you mind..." he began awkwardly. Jim realized immediately what he was asking - trying to ask - and rescued him.
"If you and the boys are ever in the area, you know you're always welcome to drop by...and if you ever need to leave the boys here, while you're hunting, feel free to do that, too...you know I'm happy to keep an eye on them."
John nodded gratefully. "Thanks, Jim." He yawned and stretched; his spine gave a series of pops that made Jim wince. "Think I'll hit the sack...or the spare bed," he said when he'd finished, shooting a quick look of askance the pastor's way. Jim nodded.
"By all means...you know the way by now."
John gave him a quick, tired grin, then got to his feet and walked out of the kitchen, disappearing through the doorway that led to the living room, and beyond that the second guest room.
Jim looked after him for a long moment, thoughts of John and Dean and Sam and their way of life swirling through his head. After a few minutes of quiet contemplation he relegated the topic to the back of his mind, to be pondered at a later date, and relaxed back in his seat...then straightened as a familiar voice piped up behind him.
"Pastor Jim? Do you have any Lucky Charms?"
Um...sorry if this was late.The site wouldn't let me upload this chapter, or the Dean and Sam ones... -:mumbles darkly:-
Anyhow, it's here now...Sparrow Lover, I hope you liked Pt 2!
Reviews are muchly appreciated...they'll be given a good home...
luv ShaedowCat xox : )