Chapter 5: Midnight Musings

Author's Note: Sorry this chapter is so small. During the week it is hard to find time to write. I'll be sure to make the next chapter longer.

00000000000

Two nights later John lay in his bed. For some reason he wasn't able to fall asleep. He suspected that part of that was because tomorrow he would be returning to work and leaving the boys alone. It was ironic really. He had been away from them for a year and almost never stopped to think about their safety. Dean's occasional voice mails served as a reminder that they were safe, somewhere, and together, looking out for each other. That had left him free to focus solely on finding the demon. Sure he had missed his sons, but Jack and Jim had done a pretty good job of keeping him company when the loneliness really became too much to bare.

So now here he was, lying in bed fretting because tomorrow he was going to go to his job which was about a ten minute drive away, and he would be gone for about nine hours. But, then, that was exactly the reason why he had left his sons behind in the first place. If he had to spend all his time worrying about them then he couldn't spend all his time focusing on the job. So like a selfish bastard he had cut them loose. Well, technically he had only cut Dean loose since Sammy had already left. It was without a doubt one of the cruelest things he had ever done, and yet it had been necessary. Okay, so only he had thought it necessary, but still, he'd had good intentions.

God he could go for a drink right now. He remembered that there was a small convenience store just at the corner of their street, but he couldn't...wouldn't...do that. He had made a promise to the boys and any ground he had gained with Sammy this past week would be instantly lost if the boys found him drunk or hung-over in the morning. Nope, he had to stay sober.

So liquor was out but he definitely wasn't falling asleep any time soon. He threw back the covers and quietly went to the kitchen. He didn't flip on the light because the boys' room was off the kitchen, as was the bathroom, and their door was half way open. His room was off the living room. He opened the fridge and rummaged through its contents. Pepsi would give him a sugar rush and keep him awake, ditto for the juice. He grabbed the milk and pulled it out. Next he got one of the clean glasses Dean had washed earlier and filled it up. Then he remembered to put the milk back in the fridge before sitting down.

He sat at the table and put his head in his hands. He couldn't really explain this anxious feeling in the pit of his stomach. The boys were fine. They were sleeping peacefully, well at least for the moment. The past two nights had been a rude introduction for John as to just how horrifying Sam's nightmares were. The first night the kid woke up screaming John had literally fallen from his bed in his attempt to get to his sons. By the time he untangled his legs from the sheet and ran into the room Dean had the situation under control.

His eldest had already awoken Sam from his nightmare and was rubbing his back. John had been about to enter the room but Dean had held up a hand basically telling John to back off. Okay, so Dean hadn't really told John to back off but he couldn't help but feel like he had. So, John had just stood there in the doorway watching as Dean comforted his brother helping him to fall back to sleep relatively quickly. Once Sam was out Dean walked back to his bed, climbed in, and went to sleep.

John was learning more and more that when it came to his family, he really was a third wheel. He wasn't going to give up though, which was why he had agreed to Sammy's conditions. No sooner had he agreed he regretted it, but it was too late now. He just hoped he could live up to them. How on earth was he going to not get pissed when the boys questioned his orders? And yet he said they could do it. And the Wednesday night thing? Good grief. All that wasted time, for what? To go to the movies? To play a game of monopoly? Maybe he could try and talk Sammy into having it every other week.

Still, over all the weekend had been pretty good. They just stayed home and relaxed, something John didn't even think he knew how to do. They watched television and the two DVD's he had bought. Sam had popped a bag of popcorn and insisted on pulling down the shades when they watched the scary movie. Later John did the crossword puzzle while Sammy read his book and Dean looked through car magazines. They even cooked together. It had been nice. Even the "I hate normal" Dean seemed to enjoy the time spent together.

Now he would go back to work tomorrow and the illusion of normal would be over. It was time to get back to earning a living and starting research into what was still their number one problem...the demon that plagued their family.

John downed his glass of milk and got up to put the glass in the sink. He was about to go back to his room or maybe turn on the small television he had got from the pawn shop when he turned and walked over to the boys' door. He slid the door open a fraction more and paused to look at them.

Dean was asleep on top of his covers wearing the same pair of sweat pants and t-shirt he had worn during the day. He looked peaceful but John noticed his one hand was up near his pillow, just a fraction away from where he kept his long hunting knife. Even asleep the kid was on guard, ready for attack. As usual Dean had the bed closest to the door. Dean had carried on that habit since the time when Sam was just a baby. Dean had always been Sam's first line of defense.

Then John looked at Sam. He face seemed peaceful enough but his body was twisted wildly in his bed covers as if he had tossed and turned a great deal. Sammy's posture in the bed was the opposite of Dean's. He wasn't on guard, but then he didn't have to be. If anything intruded on the room Dean would get it first. Instead, Sammy was on his side, facing Dean, ready to provide support to his brother.

Sometimes John wondered if it was a good thing that they boys needed each other so much. He worried about what would happen when the dreaded day came and one of them was killed. What on earth would happen to the survivor? For a moment he actually thought about the possibility of sending them out on separate hunts to work alone and gain some independence but he knew Dean would never agree to it. Hell, he doubted he would agree to it. He knew Dean could hunt alone if needed but he worried about Sam.

Sam was a magnet for trouble, not because he wasn't good, but because things always sought him out. John had always assumed it was because Sam was the youngest and the things they went after sought out the weakest link or perhaps the one with the greatest life force. Now, after twenty-two years John finally understood the truth of the situation. Sammy was a damn psychic. He didn't hold it against the boy, but it was definitely a complication for their line of work.

John was about to walk away to return to his own room when Sammy began to mumble. Then the boy bolted up in his bed but didn't cry out. John waited. He knew not to rush into the room for fear of Dean mistaking him as a threat. Dean remained asleep, though. Sammy looked over to Dean's bed confirming his brother was there and then laid back down. Finally Sam looked over and saw John at the door.

"Dad?" he whispered.

"You okay, Sammy?"

"Yeah, Dad. Did I wake you?"

"No, I was up getting a glass of milk."

"Oh."

"Goodnight, son."

"Goodnight, sir."

John was about to close the door when he saw Dean open his eyes to look at Sam. John smiled as he realized Dean had been awake probably from the moment he had stepped up to the door. John should have realized that Dean would have felt his presence almost immediately...after all, John had trained him to be that way. He gave Dean a quick nod of the head and Dean returned the motion before repositioning himself in his bed and closing his eyes once more.

Back in his own room John slipped between the covers once more and felt that sleep would finally come to him.