Okay here is Chapter 2. Hope you like. Please review.
Oh and as always I own nothing.
Chapter 2: - It's been a long time.
John drove straight through Missouri and all the way to Chicago without stopping, breaking every speed limit in the country. Screeching to a halt outside an old dilapidated warehouse, he was just in time to see a slim blonde woman in her late twenties take a swan dive out of an upper story window.
Breathing a nervous sigh of relief, instead of getting out of the car, he put the truck into drive, following the directions his friend had given him as to the whereabouts of the motel his sons were staying at.
Picking at the lock to their room, he eased himself in as discreetly as possible, taking care not to disturb anything. He saw Dean's old duffle bag and his journal lying abandoned on the desk. He walked over to the window which afforded a good view of the main road, waiting for his boys to return.
After meeting with Alex, he realised he had left them without answers for too long, that he at least needed to explain his long absence, the lack of communication, the lack of anything. He owed them that much. Missouri had told him as much back in Lawrence after Mary's spirit had saved Sam's life. He'd been there, but could not face seeing them, he hadn't listened then and it had almost cost his sons their lives. Maybe it took the blunt speech of an innocent teenager to kick him into gear. 'God I must be desperate,' he thought with a bitter grin.
Uncomfortable emotions coursed through his veins, surging through every atom of his being. He tried to shrug them off as he waited silently, longingly. The blood pounded in his ears knowing he hadn't talked to Sam since his youngest son had stormed out on them to go to Stanford. A bitter taste of anger rose up in his stomach at the very thought, a feeling he couldn't quite quash. This was going to be the most excruciating meeting he would ever have, but it had to be done, after all he was their father, not their drill sergeant.
From behind him, a key turned in the lock, making him jump out of his quiet reverie. He glanced down at the parking lot to find the Impala waiting there. The door to the room was pushed open and two sets of heavy footsteps thudded on the thinly carpeted floor. Turning, he looked to find Dean staring straight at him.
"Hey!" Dean began, as he saw a figure drowned in shadow standing next to the window, thinking it might be an ambush.
The figure shifted slightly, the dim light falling across his face.
"Dad!" Dean gasped in shock, not sure whether to believe his eyes.
"Hey boys," John said, looking at his badly beaten sons, his voice catching in his throat as a wave of emotion shivered through him.
Dean started across the room, hugging his father tightly in relief, lessening the tension which smothered them. He breathed in deeply. It had been nearly a year. Drawing back slightly, he glanced nervously at Sam, his lips twisting with anxiety.
"Hi Sam," John began, looking towards his youngest son. He noted how sadness had etched across his young face. His eyes took in the gouged and bleeding flesh, the tears welling up in the young man's eyes and the tortured expression which played across his jaw.
"Hey dad," he breathed, as he walked slowly towards him, dropping his bag of weapons at his feet as he came to a halt. They stood studying one another cautiously, neither knowing what to say, how to bridge the gap that had been created over the years. They stood only a foot apart, but it felt like the mother of all canyons.
Dean looked at them worriedly. "Dad it was a trap. I didn't know, I'm sorry," he began, trying to break the tension between them.
"It's alright, I thought it might have been," he replied, gazing at his son's earnest face with a trace of a smile flickering across his lips.
"Were you there?"
"Yeah, I got there just in time to see the girl take the swan dive. She was the bad guy right?"
"Yes sir," they said solemnly.
"Good. Well it doesn't surprise me. It's tried to stop me before."
"The Demon has," Sam started in surprise.
"It knows I'm close. It knows I'm gonna kill it. Not just exorcise it or send it back to hell. Actually kill it," John smiled, looking at his son's with hope.
"How?" Dean asked, searching his father's eyes, desperately wishing he could read his mind.
"I'm working on that," John smiled, looking into his solemn face.
"Let us come with you. We'll help," Sam started, a note of desperation in his voice which Dean knew so well.
"No Sam. Not yet. Listen, try to understand, this demon is a scary son of a bitch. I don't want you caught in the crossfire. I don't want you hurt."
"Dad, you don't have to worry about us," Sam butted in.
John looked at him, his eyes sparkling with tears he would never shed. "Of course I do. I'm your father," he said, emotion showing in his voice as he uttered the last word. "Sammy the last time we were together we had one hell of a fight."
"Yes sir."
"It's good to see you again. It's been a long time."
"Too long," Sam whispered sadly. He stepped forward, embracing his father and sagging against him as he felt a load lifting from his heart. His eyes watered as he buried his face into his father's shoulder. He couldn't remember the last time he had done this.
Dean watched the brief moment of affection which was rarely shown, a sad smile playing at the corners of his mouth. He wondered bitterly how long it would last, when a return to old ways would lead to the inevitable bickering that would escalate into an all out war. He tried to shrug off the niggling feeling that ate away at him in the pit of his stomach, instead trying to enjoy the moment, a precious moment, a moment where his family were all together again.
He hardly noticed the cut above his eye stinging or the back of his head throbbing from where Meg had knocked him out. His body ached, but for one brief moment, it, and all their troubles were forgotten.
Pulling back, they all looked at one another, silently feeling released of an enormous burden.
As suddenly as the moment had come, it ended. John was thrown up against the far wall by an invisible force. Sam and Dean were also knocked off their feet and thrown across the room, Sam landing in a heap on the floor.
Dean shouted out in pain, as the Daeva, which had started its bloodthirsty work on the pair in the old derelict warehouse, resumed its work focusing its attention on Dean and John. Sam snatched at his weapons bag which still lay in the middle of the floor and pulled out a phosphorous flare. Setting it off, he yelled "Shut your eyes. These things are shadow demons, so let's light 'em up!" The flare bathed the room with a blinding light and gas, extinguishing all the shadows the Daeva could hide in.
Sam half crawled, half stumbled to the door, Dean and John close behind.
Stumbling outside and over to where their cars were parked, John, Dean and Sam looked at each other.
"Alright, come on. We don't have much time. As soon as the flare's out they'll be back," said Sam hurriedly, throwing his bag into the back seat.
"Wait, wait! Sam, wait," said Dean, a devastated look carved across his beaten face as he realised what he had to do. "Dad, you can't come with us."
"What? What are you talking about?" Sam turned angrily.
"You boys – you're beat to hell," their father muttered softly, torn between what he wanted and what he had to do.
"We'll be alright," Dean said reassuringly.
"Dean! We should stick together. We'll go after those demons..." Sam tried desperately.
"Sam! Listen to me! We almost got Dad killed in there. Don't you understand? They're not gonna stop. They're gonna try again. They're gonna use us to get to him. I mean, Meg was right. Dad's vulnerable when he's with us. He... he's stronger without us around." Those last words caught in his throat as he had to admit the truth, no matter how much he hated it. He didn't like splitting up again so soon after they had been reunited, but they had no choice. He had to keep them alive and together no matter how many miles were placed between them. If that meant splitting up, so be it. He watched in silence as his little brother, who was not resolved to this way of thinking, made one last ditch attempt to keep them together.
"Dad ..." Sam tried, putting his hand on his father's shoulder pleadingly, "No. After everything. After all the time we spent looking for you. Please. I've got to be a part of this fight." John put his hand on Sam's wrist, trying to sooth his son's pain.
"Sammy, this fight is just starting. And we are all gonna have a part to play. For now, you gotta trust me, son. Okay? You gotta let me go," he sighed, letting go of Sam's wrist.
Sam looked at his father, his eyes filled with pained tears, a torn expression gracing his bleeding face. Finally, he gained control of the internal battle he was fighting and slowly nodded. He slapped his father on the shoulder and grudgingly released him.
John looked at his sons. He didn't like leaving them, especially in the state they were in, but he knew he was putting them in harms way. He turned away from them, heading for his truck. Before opening the door, he turned back, looking at Sam and Dean. "Be careful boys." Giving them one last lingering look, he turned away from the pair and climbed into the front seat of his truck. With a fleeting glance out of the rear-view mirror, he turned the key in the ignition and pulled away from them, leaving them standing there watching as he disappeared into the darkness yet again.
"Come on," said Dean, as their father climbed into his truck.
Sam slid into the passenger seat of the Impala next to Dean as they watched their father yet again drive away without them. Sam swallowed down the bitterness that tried to strangle him; as yet again he was unable to keep his family together.
Dean looked at him thoughtfully. In silence, he put his foot on the accelerator and headed in the opposite direction to their father.
Dean knew what his brother was feeling. Dammit, he felt the same way, but he knew right now it was dangerous for all of them to stay together. He hated this, being caught between the pair of them trying to keep the peace, but it was his job, his responsibility to hold them all together no matter how many miles of open country lay between them. At least now he knew his father was okay, and there had been some measure of reconciliation between him and Sam. He just hoped that one day soon, all this would end. Not hunting in particular, but hunting for the Demon that had destroyed his family. He hoped that if it did, some day their lives might find some sense of normality.
Finding the Demon seemed to consume his father and brother and he feared that one day their luck would finally run out. That was if he believed in luck. He wasn't really sure anymore. It was more likely to be sheer willpower and want of vengeance that kept them alive. It sure as hell wasn't a perk of the job. He'd almost died before he went to see Roy Le Grande in Nebraska, and had inadvertently caused the death of an innocent man. He dreaded the thought that one day he might be the one to bury his brother and father. The thought didn't bear thinking about. His father and especially Sam were his life, if he lost them he didn't think he could hold it all together. He was struggling to cope as it was. Not that he'd ever admit or show it. Sam had enough problems of his own to deal with, he was the older brother, he had to protect him no matter what the cost. It was all that mattered.