Hello everybody! I'm so sorry it took so long to get another chapter out; it has been a very long and busy year for me. I did manage to get a separate story out during winter, though! If you haven't checked it out, it's called "Mixed in With Melancholy." It's a crossover between Supernatural and Bones and it includes Carter! So if that sounds interesting to you, go ahead and check it out!

This chapter is a little different as it focuses more around John than Carter. But she does make an appearance!

Enjoy!

Ages:

Carter: 3

Dean: 16

Sam: 12

Takes place before the show starts

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural

John pulled up to a stop sign, wiping the mud from his brow. He took two breaths and eased his car onto a dirt road. Around him was silent. The radio was off, the back seat was empty, no cars passed him by. When John had pulled out of the graveyard twenty minutes ago, the lack of cars had shocked him. The last time he checked his watch it was only eleven at night; it was now three in the morning on a Monday night.

Traveling along the road, John thought back on the night's events. He had spent the afternoon in the library, so his night consisted of a drive-through and casing the local cemetery. When the cemetery closed and the gate was locked, he grabbed his shovel and jumped the fence, searching awhile before he found the headstone he was looking for. And then the hard work began when he dug up the grave, salted and burned the bones, and then put the grave back to its former glory.

He was exhausted, wanting only to climb into his own bed and sleep the next day away. A warm shower didn't even seem appealing to him right then. But his boots were coated in mud and his ankles weren't being shy to the sludge either. His fingers had brown crescents underneath the mud-coated nails. He was pretty sure he even had some mud in his hair, though the reason why wasn't exactly clear. But all he wanted to see right now was a bed.

The 67 Chevy Impala pulled in next to a weathered hunter's cabin. John had mooched the place off an old friend for a couple months so he didn't have to fork over more money to crappy motels. Granted, this cabin wasn't a spa and resort, but it was much better than any motel he had stayed in.

It had its faults, of course; it wouldn't be a hunter's cabin without them. Like the cobwebs in all the corners, the weeds growing everywhere, the lumpy mattresses, the casual hungry mouse, the dust on every countertop. It was all undesirable, but it was still livable. Plus, it was his kids who had to spend their time in the cabin, not him. And they should be used to it by now. They should know that a luxury cabin, hell even a decent cabin, was not something he could swing. Kids were good at adapting anyway, right?

But Dean wasn't a kid anymore. He'd turned 16 at the beginning of the year and was already acting it. Whenever a case called John, Dean obediently stayed behind and watched his younger siblings. Even when John came home, the responsibility of the younger two still fell on Dean's shoulders. Only when cases were solved did John get a chance to take care of kids; making Dean the one looked after, instead of the other way around for a little while.

The older man climbed out of his car, sighs and groans emitting from him as he did so. As the car door shut, the quiet world around him fell. Being far up on the mountain, no cars ventured near and the cabins were within miles of each other. The only noises came from nature itself. The chirp of the crickets, the low hoot of an owl, the croak of a tree frog.

John walked to the door of the house and paused, looking up through the trees to try to find the moon, a habit he had formed years ago. He found it tucked behind a wispy cloud, only half of it visible.

A minute later he tore his eyes away from the sky and unlocked the cabin door. The darkness of the house greeted him. He flicked on the kitchen light and stripped his boots off, mud flying everywhere as he did so. The cuckoo clock in the living room chimed four in the morning. Several takeout containers lay on the counters and Carter's toys were scattered around the floor. Three army men were propped up on the counter pointing towards the front door as if they were protecting it.

John looked up as the kids' bedroom door slowly opened, his three year old's face appearing in the light. She shut the door behind her, yawning and rubbing her eyes as she did so. When she spotted her dad by the door, she softly called out, "Daddy!" and she ran towards him.

Smiling, the man scooped his daughter up into his arms. After a moment, she pulled back and they both looked each other in the eyes. She didn't seem to care that mud was caked into his jacket.

"What're you doing up so late?"

"Deany said you were coming home tonight so I said I would stay up and wait for you, but Deany said no, but I said yes, and Deany said nooooo," Carter replied, softly rubbing her eye, "so I thoughted up a plan and I only pretended to go to sleep when Deany was asleep and then I played with my toys until I heard your car and then I came out to see you!" She hugged her father again and audibly yawned.

John chuckled. "You tricked Dean and stayed up all night, huh? And your brothers are still asleep?" Carter pulled back to look at John and nodded with an open smile, but she quickly changed to concern.

Her voice went down in an attempt at whispering, "Yes, but you gotta be quiet, we can't wake Deany and Sammy up or they'll be mad."

He smiled and whispered back, "Yeah, we don't want to wake them up, do we?" Carter shook her head. "Alright, well let's get you back in bed; your yawning is starting to make me yawn." John yawned quietly as he plopped his tiny daughter on the ground and steered her back towards her bedroom she shared with her brothers. A foot short of her door she stopped.

"No, Daddy, can I sleep in your bed?" She looked up at her father, her eyes pleading.

And he agreed, despite being tired and dirty and sore. He agreed because while he was working his ass off and saving lives, his son was watching his younger kids and his daughter was planning to spend all night waiting for her daddy to come home. He agreed because even though he was exhausted, it was something that could make his daughter happy. And in this life, happiness was rare to come upon.

Plus, who could resist her puppy dog eyes? She undoubtedly learned them from Sam.

As they stalked off to John's bedroom, Carter held her father's hand; her small hand covering only a small portion of his. As they entered the room, Carter let go and flung herself on the messy bed, crawling herself towards the pillows. A few minutes later, she was fast asleep. John slipped off his muddied clothes and into pajamas before climbing into the bed himself. A few seconds later, he himself had fallen fast asleep.

In the end, it didn't matter what the place looked like. As long as he could be happy, it would be good enough for him.

Thanks so much for reading! I read all of your comments and suggestions and take them all into careful consideration! If you've already recommended a chapter, I promise it's in the works as we speak! They're just taking longer than I expected.

Remember to check out "Mixed in with Melancholy" if it sounds like it could be in your wheelhouse!

Talk to you next time!