A/N: yes, yes, i know, i should be working on my story, but this just popped into my head and i felt i had to write it.

Warning: Spoilers for 'In my Time of Dying' ahead, if you have not seen it you may not want to read this.

D: just for fun, i have nothing to do with supernatural.

OUR FATHER

"He's our dad, he's our dad."

Dean spoke those words defiantly, needfully, as though they could explain everything in his life, as though everyone in the room would understand, see the man they were working on in a new light, try harder to save him. Yes, many, many people were fathers, but this was his father, his dad, John Winchester, surely everyone would see that, surely everyone would know just how much the world needed this man, how much his eldest son needed this man.

But the words seemed to fall on deaf ears, the doctors and nurses not trying every experimental technique known to man, not discovering some mystery cure for death right there on the spot. They just continued to work, as they continued to work on every life that passed through their hands, with determination, fortitude, but no inhuman expectations. They understood that people died, knew that death did not spare those it had chosen because they were someone's father, brother, sister, or mother. They knew.

But Dean still looked on with hopeful eyes, still prayed silently to the heavens above to leave this one man behind, to grant a child just one last wish.

"He's out dad, he's our dad."

Dean spoke those words with longing, with desperation and not even an ounce of acceptance, his mind not drifting towards his father's death for anything. He needed the man laying motionless before him, needed his father to live, to be with him, to be his family. He spoke those words to more then just the doctors, begged anyone, anything that was listening to understand the importance of those three words, the importance of the life that was about to be lost. John Winchester was strong, he was brave, he was Dean's hero, and heroes weren't supposed to die. They were immortal, moving from one great story to another, always coming out on top, always banishing the darkening fear, always saving the day. No, heroes weren't supposed to die.

"He's our dad, he's our dad."

Sam heard, he understood the desperation in his brother's voice, felt the older man sink slightly and silently beside him as he watched the medical staff as they worked in vein to save his father, to save a man he had long ago walked away from. He understood his brothers longing, his need, his hope, but he did not share it. He wished for nothing more then his father to live, but he knew his brother's words, spoken like commandments would do nothing to change the truth. And the absolute terror with which his brother's statement was spoken shook Sam to the core. John Winchester would not live just because his sons wanted him to, just because Dean had declared to the world that he needed to. Sometimes, Sam knew, some things were just beyond your reach.

"He's our dad, he's our dad."

Dean clung to that hope, to that affirmation, to that declaration of importance, of strength. John Winchester was his father, his idol, his lifeline in a world of quicksand. Dean needed his father to save him, to keep his young head above the water, to be his parent. Dean had been losing himself, falling deeper and deeper into a void he didn't understand, a darkness that not even his brother could chase away. He needed the man before him to live, to sit up in the bed and smile, assure him that the world would not swallow his oldest son whole, that he John, would not allow it. Dean needed to hear those words, to feel the comfort they possessed, to be someone's child, not the orphan he knew he was about to become. He needed to hear his father's reassuring words just one more time.

"He's our dad, he's our dad."

"Time of death, 10:41 am."

"Don't be scared, Dean."