Disclaimer: If you recognize it from Supernatural I don't own it. I'm just playing with it!

Hunted

John Winchester is hunted by more then just demons.

Chapter Thirty

It was early morning when John drove into the parking lot of Jim's church and true to his word Jim was waiting for him. John was glad because although he wouldn't have admitted it he was drained physically and emotionally. He wasn't sure he could make it into the church much less down the stairs to the Jim's private study and workroom.

John got stiffly out of the truck and before he could take more then one crutch assisted step Jim was at his side. As usual Jim was dressed in his "work clothes". As pastor of this small congregation church Jim was dressed in the all in black outfit and traditional white collar indicating his occupation.

John liked Jim despite the fact that he was a pastor. He figured nobody was perfect. John had met Jim the year after Mary had died. It was before he began hunting in the physical sense. At that time it was still research for John and he had found that most older churches had a library that contained excellent references on demons and other evil creatures. He had made it a habit to check all the church libraries when staying in a new town. The first time he came to Blue Earth he found the library in Jim's church to be the most extensive he had ever come across. He was also much more comfortable working here because Jim had not once looked at him strangely as he pulled down book after book about exorcisms, demons and fires. Dean had sat quietly the entire time watching his father work and keeping and keeping his baby brother entertained.

After observing John and his son's for several hours Pastor Jim had introduced himself and asked if he could help John find anything. It was the start of a friendship that John had come to cherish. If Jim wasn't helping John then he was entertaining the boys with anything from coloring to storytelling. Dean who didn't take to strangers very well seemed to like and trust Jim.

John would always remember what Jim had told him when he asked how he knew about the things John was researching. "I am a Pastor first," he had replied, "But I am also a hunter."

"A hunter of what?" John had asked.

"Of all things evil," Jim had replied.

He had helped John search through all the old texts and made suggestions on where else to look and had never once questioned John about why he was looking for the information. After several days John had felt comfortable enough with Jim to tell him about Mary. He told Jim of his intention to find the thing that killed her and destroy it. Jim had introduced him to Daniel Elkins and asked the man to teach John what he knew.

In over twenty years of friendship Jim had never once let John down. He was always there when he needed the man. He watched his friend take a hard look at him and shake his head. Then he asked, "John, why do you look like you just walked out of the operating room?"

John grimaced it couldn't be that bad, "Don't worry the surgery was three days ago."

"What happened?"

"A pissed of poltergeist with a sword," John said by way of reply.

"A sword?" Jim asked?

"You don't want to know," John told him.

"How bad is it?"

"It's deep and it nicked an artery," he replied.

"And the hospital released you already?"

"Yep, "John said. "As soon as they realized I was leaving."

Jim rolled his eyes at his friend's foolishness. "Are you going to be able to make it down the stairs?"

"Yeah, I think so," he replied and wondered briefly if he was trying to convince himself or Jim. As it turned out he needed a considerable amount of help from his friend to make it down the steep stairs and by the time he was sitting on the bed his whole body was trembling from weariness.

"Lay down John," Jim said. "I'll get your things."

John lay back on the small bed and was asleep before his friend returned with his duffle bags. He never even felt Jim remove his boots and cover him with the blanket. Jim knew what was hunting his friend and he knew that even though the church was holy ground John would feel better if he saw salt lines at the door and window. So before he left the room he put down salt lines. John was in no shape to defend his self at the moment.

Several hours later John was gently shaken awake by Pastor Jim. "John," he said. "I'm sorry, but you need to wake up for just a few minutes."

John came alert quickly. "What's wrong Jim?" he asked.

"Nothing's wrong, but you need to take these meds I found in the truck. You also need to eat. I've brought a bowl of beef stew."

John carefully sat up on the bed. He thankfully took the pills and drink that Jim held out to him. After he swallowed the pills his friend held out a bowl of stew. He wasn't hungry and was about to refuse when Jim said, "Don't even say it. You're going to eat it even if I have to hand feed you."

John grinned as he remembered the last time Jim had made that threat. It was around fourteen years ago. John was in the same place he was right now but he was in even worse condition. He had been mauled pretty badly by the werewolf before he was able to kill it. He had just barely made it back to the motel room where he'd left Dean taking care of Sammy who'd had a cold. His oldest son had taken one look at the severity of his wounds and called Pastor Jim. John passed out before Jim arrived and when he woke it was two days later and he was in Jim's study.

John has always been a terrible patient, and Jim didn't have much of a bedside manor. When he had refused to eat for the second meal in a row Jim had tied him to the bed and began feeding him. The then thirteen year old Dean had come in and taken one look at the treatment his father was receiving. Before either of them knew what was happening he had grabbed one of the guns from the wall rack pulled back the hammer and pressed it to Pastor Jim's head.

"Uncle Jim," he'd said with quiet menace. "I really like you, but you need to untie my dad right now!" It had taken both of them by surprise, but Jim had quickly released John who then took the gun from his son and explained that Jim wasn't going to hurt him. It had taken nearly six months for Dean to trust Pastor Jim again.

Jim looked at John and laughed. He knew exactly what the man was recalling, "Dean is not here this time to protect you so eat!" he told his friend.

John ate the stew.

"Bobby told me you were going to Pennsylvania after the demon," Jim said. "How did you end up getting stabbed with a sword by a poltergeist?"

"I was too late again," John said quietly.

"John, even you can't save everyone," Jim told him.

"Yeah, but…"

"No," Jim interrupted him. "No buts John, evil will always claim some of them. All we can do is try to save as many as possible. You can't blame yourself for the others. It's God's will."

"Do you really believe that?" John asked.

Jim looked at him funny, "You do realize I am an ordained pastor don't you? Of course I believe it."

"So you believe it was God's will that Mary died?"

Jim felt like he had just stepped into a hornets nest. "John," he said. "God always a reason, even if we can't see it. We just need to trust that He knows what He's doing."

"Yeah, well, one day God is going to have to explain it to me and He better have a damn good answer!"

Jim was not about to tell his friend that he knew what the answer was. Sometimes it was better to say nothing. If John ever realized what Jim did he wasn't sure how he would take it. Jim though, he knew. John, was the answer. If Mary had not died John and his boys would not be hunting and many other people would be dead. Instead he said, "I'm sure he will."

"You know," Jim said changing the subject. "You never told me how you got stabbed."

"I was just a few miles away from another problem, one Bobby had told me about," John told him. "A poltergeist was killing people up at McConnells Mill State Park. I went to check it out and it came after me. The damn thing was using a sword and the rock salt I was only just barely slowing it down."

"How'd you destroy it?"

"Pure luck," he replied. "It was bound to the grandfather clock in the mill. I destroyed the clock, but not before it got me."

The pills John had taken were beginning to kick in and he was getting drowsy. He lay back down his mind began to wander the way it does when the good drugs start to take effect. "Jim," he asked, "I have two good boys don't I?"

"Yes you do," Jim replied. "They take after their father."

"Yeah, they are both a bit crazy," he said drowsily. "Did I ever tell you about the day Sammy saved me and Dean?"

"No," Jim said.

"He was twelve. I probably shouldn't have brought him on that hunt but he insisted and I was tired of arguing with him. That boy can argue. Anyway, we had spent the past five hours arguing about what it was we were hunting. I swear that boy is stubborn and tenacious. I don't know where he gets that from either... "

Jim choked back a laugh when he realized John was being serious. He really had no idea how much the boy took after his father.

"Anyway, I finally decided to let him come, you know, just to make sure he knew how important good research was before you hunted. To teach him to make sure you know what you're hunting and how to kill it."

Jim nodded, but didn't reply.

"Anyway we were going after a windego and you know how dangerous they can be. So we're out there in the woods chasing this damn thing. It's so fast we are having trouble even catching a glimpse of it let alone catch up to it. I was starting to worry because a Windego will normally attack. I kept waiting for it to attack, but didn't come."

John was silent for a few seconds before he continued.

"So here we are all three of us walking through the woods looking for a windego when suddenly something shoves into me hard from behind knocking me forward. I heard Dean's grunt as he hit the ground too. And then I rolled away and looked up to see one of the scariest things I've ever seen in my life. Twelve year old Sammy was standing in front of me and Dean staring down a were-cat. He was holding up my .45 Smith and Wesson in a perfect shooters stance pointed at the biggest lepoard I'd ever seen. He pulled the trigger twice and shot the thing in the heart killing it. He had loaded the gun with silver bullets before we left because he thought I might be wrong."

"So much for that lesson huh?" Jim said.

"Yeah, I was the one who learned something that day," John said sleepily. "I learned to listen to my son's."

John's eyes closed and Jim got up and collected the dishes. He was about to leave when John said quietly, "Thanks, Jim… for everything."

"You're welcome," Jim replied.

A little over a week had passed and John's leg was healing nicely. He no longer used the crutches and Jim had pulled out the stitches the day before. John was planning on leaving in the next day or two but he still had not discussed with Jim the main reason for his visit.

Later that evening as they sat playing cards. Both of them cheating to the best of their abilities. That was when John brought up the subject of Marshall Hall. John told Jim everything that had happened in Ford City Nebraska. He explained how he had used the man's death to benefit his son.

When John was done Jim thought it over for a minute before he replied. "John, you remember I told you that everything happens for a reason."

"Yes, I don't necessarily believe it, but…"

"Well you said Marshall Hall died to save your son. I believe that to be partially true, he also died so your son could put a stop to the attacks and save many more people. If Dean had not been healed he would not have seen the reaper and figured out what was killing all those people."

"Maybe, but I did it, I set it up for him to be healed. I should have found another way."

"No, all you did was make sure Dean was there. It was Roy LeGrange who chose to heal your son."

John chose not to tell him what LeGrange had said about God chosing Dean. Instead he said, "I would have forced LeGrange to heal him."

"John, Marshall hall's death is not your fault," Jim said. Then holding up his hand to stop the comment he knew was coming he continued. "But, I will see what I can find out about the man's family and what can be done for them."

"Thanks again."

Bobby called later that evening and told John that Jim Miller was dead. He had appearently committed suicide.

A/N Thanks for taking the time to read it! Please now take the time to Review it. I really appreciate all the reviews.

p.s. the storm has passed and all is well here. Thanks to all.