I'll skip the dull things, because I can. Generally, people do what I say (sometimes to a fault), and I say let's skip to October 26, 2006. This is where the fun begins. This is where the story starts to begin, not where it actually begins. But more like an extended prologue.
Sam and Dean are still hunting together, it seemed to be the only thing they could do to stay afloat in this sea of insanity. Well, I say that, but in reality, these two men - still basically boys, chubby faced and innocent - are only playing in a puddle of insanity. The tsunami that'll crash into their lives and ruin everything they've built for themselves isn't even yet on the horizon.
But it's coming, steadily creeping closer. Waiting for the chance to start to rain.
But, I digress.
The boys are together, they found their father, but ultimately decided that traveling without him would be safer for everyone involved. Something they should've decided long, long ago.
They're currently in Nebraska, at a little cafe. Each are looking for a new case. Sam on Dean's laptop and Dean looking through the local newspaper.
Oh, but, let me rewind a bit. To a day earlier, October 25, 2006.
There's a man, a hunter, he's very important. We'll talk about his life and impact much later on, but for now, we'll talk about his death. It's much more interesting, anyway.
His name is Daniel Elkins.
He was at a local bar, late one night. This isn't particularly unusual for him; he likes to sit at the end and work on cases while throwing back shots. On this specific night, he was worried; frantically going over his papers, double, even triple, checking his work.
The data was all wrong, something wasn't right. The traces of the population - what little he could make up; basically guesses from hints and sightings; nothing was for sure, it was all just hypothetical - but this stated that there was a congress of them, coming for him. The possible cases that he'd found seemed like they were moving closer to him.
Maybe he was just paranoid.
But he would find a possible case, and by the time he sent a hunter out there to deal with it, they were gone. The cases kept getting closer to him, closing in on Colorado ominously.
"Here you go." The kind bartender, Beth, said as she poured him another drink.
Daniel didn't bother replying as a rowdy group clad in leather walked into the bar. They took the nearest table, gaining all eyes in the room.
"What'll you have?" Beth asked.
"Jack all around, leave the bottle." The woman, who seemed to be in charge of the group, replied coolly.
The bartender raised an eyebrow, "You hungry?"
She's seen what alcohol and an empty stomach does to people, she tries to avoid it as often as possible. Sometimes Beth'll slyly place a bowl of nuts or crackers on the table with the customer's order; subconsciously hinting at them to eat something.
"We have dinner plans." The woman in leather snapped.
Daniel didn't stick around to see the rest of their conversation. He wasn't a fool. Maybe it was just being a hunter all his life, but he could tell when someone's human and when someone's pretending to be human. Sometimes it's obvious. Sometimes it's subtle. Even if it wasn't, Daniel would recognize this group anywhere.
Regardless, he left without finishing his drink.
Driving as fast as he could in the snow, he made it to his house, a wooden cottage, secluded in the woods.
He looked over his shoulder as he unlocked his door. Quickly sliding in and relocking it, he set down his hunter's journal on a cluttered table near the door.
Daniel took deep, calming breaths as he looked at the huge map he'd used to track the locations of recent cases. Maybe he was just paranoid. Maybe they didn't know- maybe they didn't see him. Or smell him. Or hear him. They could have just wandered by unknowingly. If he were a bit younger, a bit stronger, he could've taken them out.
There were footsteps behind him.
Shit.
He turned around to see the woman, she had long brown hair and a nasty look in her eyes. They stared at each other warily as she stepped closer to him.
"It's been a while." She said, her voice would've been a calm one, had circumstances been different. Had she been human, she would've had a voice that would be on children's audio books. The kind of voice that you'd want to hear often. But now, for Daniel, this was a voice he was dreading. Her eyes flashed in the dark, similar to that of a wild animal's, as she said, "I gotta say, you look old."
"What do you want?" Daniel asked, shifting as he reached behind him.
She smiled a wicked grin, replying softly, "What do you think?"
Daniel reacted fast, the words just barely got out of her mouth by the time the knife was lodged into her chest. She stumbled back, not anticipating the attack.
"Damn." She hissed, slowly pulling the knife out of her. It reflected in the moonlight, her blood covering a majority of the blade.
Daniel used the attack as a distraction, he ran out of the room.
"You can do better than that." The monster snickered, eyes flashing again as she followed him.
The old hunter closed the door to his office, and pushed his overflowing bookshelf in front of the door. He then turned and ran across the room to where his safe sat behind the wall. He threw open the secret latch in the wall, quickly spinning the combination to the safe.
"Come on, come on…" He muttered as the monster on the other side of the door started to pound against the wood. She'd get in soon. He pulled out a small wooden box.
Inside it: a gun. A very very special gun.
As he starts to load the bullets into the gun, the pounding on the door starts to get louder. He slides all the pieces together, the gun's fully loaded, but before he can even think about using it, two brutes crash through his perfectly good sunroof.
They jump halfway across the room - fuckin monsters, man, that shouldn't be possible - and tackle Daniel. As they manhandle him against the desk, the woman outside the door finally breaks it down. His bookcase, full of extremely old, extremely rare books, crashes to the ground.
She steps in smoothly, striding up to where the Colt was dropped on the ground. She hums as she picks it up delicately, examining it.
"Nice gun." She smiles. Daniel tries to struggle against the monsters holding him down, but between his age, their super strength, and his impending doom, it's all in vain. The monster keeps talking, "Wouldn't do you much good, of course."
Daniel almost tells her just how powerful that gun actually is.
Almost.
But she carries on, addressing her lessers. "Boys. We're eating in tonight."
He's still alive when they start to eat him.
That leads us to the next day; October 26, 2006.
As I said, Sam and Dean are in a little cafe, looking for possible cases.
Dean sighed as he set down the newspaper. "Alright dude, not a decent lead in all of Nebraska. What've you got?"
"Well, I've been scanning Wyoming, Colorado, South Dakota." He said, scrolling through a news website. "Here." He pointed to the screen, despite the fact that Dean couldn't' see it. "A woman in Colorado fell ten thousand feet from a plane and survived."
"Sounds more like 'That's Incredible' than, uh, 'Twilight Zone'." Dean said with a shrug.
"Yeah." Sam sighed, they'd been looking for a case all morning, and most of the night before. Sometimes, believe it or not, it's impossible to find the impossible.
Dean was already talking before Sam could suggest another case. "Hey, you know we could just keep heading east. New York. Upstate. We could drop by and see Sarah again. Huh? Cool chick man, smokin'." He whistles, grinning ear to ear. "You two seemed pretty friendly. What do you say?"
Sarah was the girl from the last case they were on. October 9th, 2006. Telesca House.
It was a good time.
Dean just wanted his brother to be happy, throwing dates at him was the best way Dean knew how to do that.
Sam let out an embarrassed huff, rubbing his ear slightly, "Yeah, I dunno, maybe someday. But in the meantime we got a lot of work to do Dean, and you know that." One thing that Sam got from his father, was his stubbornness and his determination.
Dean shook his head, but eventually muttered, "Yeah, you're right. What else you got?"
"Uh, man in Colorado, local man by the name of Daniel Elkins, was found mauled in his home." Sam read off the computer.
Dean stared into the space, concentrating hard. "Elkins. I know that name."
"Doesn't ring a bell." Sam replied. "Sounds like the police don't know what to think. At first they said it was some sort of bear attack and now, they've found some signs of robbery."
His brother wasn't really listening anymore. His mind was still set on Elkins. Muttering the name under his breath, he went through a mental check list.
Not someone famous.
Not someone he slept with.
Not a common name.
Not a hunter.
Wait. Maybe the last one.
Dean pulled out John's journal.
It's a great thing, that journal. Every hunter has one. It keeps them safe. It keeps them sane. When John first started hunting, that girl that walked up to him gave him this very journal. It was blank then. Now it's full of words written throughout many years of hunting. Irreplaceable knowledge that every hunter needs to know.
Dean flips through the early pages, until he finds a page that just has names and phone numbers on it. "Hey." He said, handing the book to Sam. "Check it out."
D. Elkin
570-555-1058
Something, maybe an address, was scribbled out right under it.
Sam glanced from the paper to Dean, and back again. "You think it's the same Elkins?"
"It's a Colorado area code." After years of traveling, being in the family business, changing phones, etc. You tend to learn the area codes.
Dean raised his eyebrows in a challenge, and soon they were on their way.
There wasn't any police tape on the door.
Shoddy work, Colorado.
"Looks like the maid didn't come today." Dean said as he walked towards the living room.
Sam crouched down by the front door, looking at what could've been snow, but obviously wasn't. "Hey, there's salt over here." Sam calls, loud enough for Dean to hear, "Right beside the door."
"You mean, like, protection against demon salt, or 'oops I spilled the popcorn' salt." Dean asked, flicking through Elkin's journal. It had a similar format to their dad's. He was tempted to keep it. Actually, why don't they keep the journals of dead hunters? Shouldn't that be a thing? I don't know, just suggesting!
"It's clearly a ring." Sam said, more to himself than to Dean. "You think this guy, Elkins, was a player?"
"Definitely."
Sam looked over Dean's shoulder at the journal. "That looks a hell of a lot like Dad's."
"Yeah, except this dates back to the 60s." Dean replies, turning another page.
The boys wandered into the trashed office, glass and papers were everywhere. They shone their flashlights up at the broken sunroof.
"Whatever attacked him, looks like it was more than one." Sam decided.
"Looks like he put up a helluva fight, too."
"Yeah."
They look around the room. Dean kicks a small, wooden box. He steps on it to right it, and shines his light at it. It's an empty gun box, thirteen bullets missing. Dean mostly shrugs it off and walks further into the room, some splots of blood catch his eye. He crouches down to get a better look at them.
"Got something?" Sam asks from the other side of the room.
"I dunno. Some scratches on the floor." Dean replies, running his fingers over them.
"Death throes, maybe?"
"Yeah, maybe." Dean mutters, snatching some paper and a pencil from Elkin's desk. He's dead, he won't mind. Dean plonks the paper down on over the scratches and presses it flat. He then uses the pencil lead to get an outline of the imprint. Sam looks around the room while Dean works. When he's done, he picks up the paper - the backside is covered in blood - and looks it over. "Or maybe a message."
Realization dawns on Dean and he hands the paper over to his brother. "Look familiar?"
"Three letters, six digits. The location and combination of a post office box." Sam says, decoding the message easily, "It's a mail drop."
"Just the way Dad does it." Dean mutters.
I don't mean to spoil it or anything, but it was a letter.
The boys sit in the Impala, looking over the address to it.
"'J.W.' You think? John Winchester?" Sam asked.
"I dunno. Should we open it?" Dean replied. Before they had the chance to decide, a pounding on the door startled both of them.
Dean gasped, his arms automatically raised to protect himself, fists clenched, and his head whipped around only to see John standing outside the door, grinning at the fact that he scared the boys.
"Dad?" Dean asked as John climbed into the back of Baby.
"Dad, what are you doing here? Are you alright?" Sam's voice always got tight when John was around.
John nodded, sounding tired, but otherwise fine. "Yeah, I'm okay. I read the news about Daniel, I got here as fast as I could. I saw you two at his place."
"Why didn't you come in, dad?" Sam asked softly, shaking his head. He never understood his father, sometimes.
"You know why." John replied. "Because I had to make sure you weren't followed…" He looked both his boys in the eye to emphasize, "By anyone. Or anything thing." He added, as an afterthought, "Nice job of covering your tracks by the way."
Dean let the tiniest of smiles grace his face. It wasn't often John praised them. On anything. Humbly he mumbled, "Yeah, well, we learn from the best."
"Wait, you came all the way out here for this Elkins guy?" Sam asked.
John nodded, softly replying, "Yeah… He was… He was a good man. A friend of mine introduced us. ...He taught me a helluva lot about hunting."
"You never mentioned him to us." Sam said.
His name was all over the first few pages of John's journal.
'May 2, 1984:
Sammy is a year old. We spent his birthday in the mountains, because X is making me meet a guy named Daniel Elkins.'
'X swears Elkins is the best in his field…''
'...Elkins is such a hermit…'
'Daniel says they're extinct…'
Regardless, reading about someone and meeting someone are two very different things. The boys would've preferred to have at least been told about Elkins through something other than John's diary.
"We had a... we had kind of a falling out. I hadn't seen him in years." John said. Then, almost whispering, he gestured to the envelope, "I should look at that."
Dean hands it to him, John opens it and starts to read.
"'If you're reading this, I'm already dead' ...That son of a bitch." John said, scanning the pages.
"What is it?" Dean asked.
"He had it the whole time." John said, his voice strained.
"Dad, what?" Sam asked, tired of his vagueness.
"When you searched the place, did you, did you see a gun? An antique, a Colt revolver, did you see it?" John said. He was looking from Sam to Dean and back again.
"Ah, there was, there was an old case but it was empty." Dean replied, thinking back to the wooden box.
"They have it." John said, sure of himself.
"You mean whatever killed Elkins?" Dean asked.
John was already starting to get out of the Impala, "We gotta pick up the trail."
Sam and Dean shared identical confused looks. Sam leaned over Dean as he asked out the window, "Wait. You want us to come with you?"
"If Elkins is telling the truth, we've gotta find this gun." John replied, holding onto the window.
"The gun- why?" Sam asked.
"Because it's important. That's why." John snapped.
Dean sat silent through this, looking from Sam to their father, watching the little spat. This had a painful sense of deja vu to it.
"Dad, we don't even know what these things are yet." Sam reasoned.
"They were what Daniel Elkins killed best. Vampires." John explained.
"Vampires?" Dean spoke up for the first time. "I thought there was no such thing."
Dean actually distinctly remembers when John told him there were no such thing as vampires. It was when John first started hunting.
"You never even mentioned them, Dad." Sam said.
Anyone ever notice that Sam says 'dad' a lot? Like a lot a lot? I think it's because he has psychological abandonment issues, not as bad as Dean, since he did the abandoning and Dean was the one being abandoned. But, whatever.
"I thought they were extinct. I thought Elkins and - and others had wiped them out." John took a deep breath, saying the last part solemnly. "I was wrong."
Okay, now, see, here's why they should've picked up Elkins' journal. It showed sightings, hints, cases, involving the vampire population. Including that one group that came by to kill him. Important information, right there, free for the taking!
If you could hear Elkins now, he agrees with me, next time, take the damn book!
It says in Elkins' journal, that he had John copy down at least twice:
'Crosses won't repel them, and sunlight won't kill them, neither will a stake to the heart. They can go outside. They need blood to survive, and prefer human blood, but can survive on other mammals if there are no humans around. The only way to be sure of killing them is beheading - although the blood of a dead man is like poison to them. It won't kill them, but it weakens them, makes them slow and sick. They were once people, so you won't know it's a vampire until it's too late.'
John woke the boys up later that night after listening to the police radio. "A couple called 911, found a body in the street. Cops got there everyone was missing. It's the vampires."
Sam sat up and asked, "How do you know?"
"Just follow me, okay?" John replied, annoyed. Dean never questioned how John knew something. He just went along with it. Sam questioned everything John did. It really was obnoxious.
Sam rolls his eyes, but still gets up and puts his jacket on.
"Huh. Vampires. Get's funnier every time I hear it." Dean muttered, still half asleep.
Better get used to it, Deanie.
At the crime scene, John went up to talk to the police alone.
As he walked back, Sam muttered, sulking, "I don't see why we couldn't have gone over with him."
"Oh, don't tell me it's already starting." Dean groaned, he was hoping they could have some peace a little longer.
"What's starting?" Sam asked, annoyed.
Dean turned to John and asked, "What have you got?"
John stopped in front of his sons, "It was them all right. Looks like they're heading west. We'll have to double back to get around that detour."
"How can you be so sure?" Sam asked.
"Sam-" Dean tried.
Sam cut him off, "I just wanna know we're going in the right direction."
He looked back at John, a challenge. John stared his son down, unfazed.
"We are." John stated.
"How do you know?"
John pulls something out of his pocket and hands it to Dean, saying, "I found this."
"It's a...a vampire fang." Dean said, holding the little bone between his fingers.
"Not fangs, teeth. The second set descends when they attack." John informed. Dean looked up at him, nodding. John looked over at Sam, his expression hard, "Any more questions?"
Sam looks away, silent.
"All right, let's get out of here, we're losing daylight." John said, walking towards his truck.
Dean smiles, fiddling with the tooth, still in his hand, as he and Sam walk to the Impala's doors.
As John passes the Impala, he calls, "Hey, Dean, why don't you touch up your car before you get rust? I wouldn't have given you the damn thing if I thought you were going to ruin it."
The smile falls off Dean's face instantly, he looks down at his car, ashamed. They've been, well, okay, not busy, but, he just, he hadn't found a good place to clean her. He, he probably should've. He definitely should've. Could've gone out of his way to fix her up...
Sam was just glad John verbally attacked Dean instead of him again.
Baby wasn't even all that dirty. John just knew Dean wouldn't fight back.
In the car, Sam drove while Dean read from John's journal.
Vampires nest in groups of eight to ten. Smaller packs are sent to hunt for food. Victims are taken to the nest where the pack keeps them alive, bleeding them for days or weeks.
"I wonder if that's what happened to that 911 couple." Dean muttered.
"That's probably what Dad's thinking." Sam replied. Then, grumbling, he added, "Course it would be nice if he just told us what he's thinking."
Dean looked up at his little brother, "So it is starting."
His heart sank at those four words. Of course they wouldn't be peaceful. Oh, god, what if Sam left again? He's not going to leave, where would he go? Back to Stanford? Probably. With no Jess? Maybe.
John would leave too, once they get the gun or kill this thing.
Then Dean would be alone again.
"What?" Sam asked, snapping Dean out of his thoughts.
"Sam, we've been looking for Dad all year. Now we're not with him for more than a couple of hours and there's static already?" Why couldn't Sam just understand?
Sam lets out an annoyed huff. "No. Look, I'm happy he's ok, all right? And I'm happy that we're all working together again."
"Well, good." Dean muttered.
Sam couldn't help himself from continuing, "It's just the way he treats us, like we're children."
"Oh, God." Dean groaned.
Sam had a point, but Dean was going to stubbornly ignore it. Dean was treating them almost exactly how he treated Dean once Sam left. Like a child; baggage that he was obligated to take with him. Not a person, not even a tool. Just an unnecessary waste of space.
Dean always pushed that feeling of uselessness to the back of his mind. But with Sam constantly pointing it out, it was a little hard to ignore.
"He barks orders at us Dean, he expects us to follow 'em without question. He keeps us on some crap need-to-know deal." Sam was getting really fired up about this. His voice was loud and furious.
Dean keeps his voice level as he says, "He does what he does for a reason."
"What reason?" Sam immediately challenges.
"Our job!" Dean snaps back. Sam scoffs. "There's no time to argue, there's no margin for error, all right? That's just the way the old man runs things."
People tend to forget that John actually fought in a war.
Vietnam.
He learned exactly how wars are fought and soldiers are trained. There's no questions. There's no hesitation. He taught Dean how to hunt the same way his commanding officer taught him how to fight.
"Yeah, well, maybe that worked when we were kids, but not anymore, all right. Not after everything you and I have been through, Dean. I mean, are you telling me you're cool with just falling into line, and letting him run the whole show?" Sam looked away from the road to give Dean a hard look.
Dean hesitated, but when he spoke, his words were serious and quiet. "If that's what it takes."
The 'what it takes' was kind of up in the air.
What it takes to keep Sam alive.
To keep Dad happy.
To keep Dean uninjured.
To kill the monster of the week.
What it takes.
Anyway, back to the vampires.
They can hear heartbeats. And oh, were those two humans they had tied up beating. Like a drummer on a sugar high. It was a beautiful, delicious sound.
The woman who was in charge of this little nest, Kate, had a mate named Luther. Around him, she was a giddy little teenager. It was quite sweet. Something I love about vampires: they mate for life.
It was an interesting concept, actually. Humans were already too far into their evolutionary process to just add in the trait of soulmates. But vampires. They just started growing, evolving, learning. We could easily drop a touch of commitment into their DNA and, boom, like little bloodthirsty penguins, they had a One and Only.
Cool, right?
So, while Kate and Luther made out like horny teens, the rest of the nest sank their teeth into the male human. They kissed to the sound of him screaming. How romantic.
After a little bit, Kate showed Luther their prizes. The, the inanimate prizes. Not the humans.
Most of it was just some junk. Money from the couple. Postcards. Jewelry. But they also grabbed some stuff from Elkins' house. Books. Maps. The Colt.
Oh, oh, oh.
Here's the funny part. I love it when this happens.
If the vamps never took the gun, John wouldn't've come after them. And they'd all still be alive.
How great is that? Right?
It's like, if Sam was never born, Mary wouldn't've died.
Funny how the world works, isn't it?
Cause and effect. It cracks me up!
Luther was all pissed at Kate for endangering herself and killing Elkins, because now the hunters were coming. And in the world of the supernatural, the monsters were the Indians and the hunters were the cowboys.
Sam and John fought again.
If Dean didn't get between them, it would've ended in a fist fight in the middle of the road.
With every hate-filled word they spit at each other, Dean's world broke a little more. Why couldn't it go back to the way it was? Before Sam left for college, when things weren't perfect, but they were good enough.
I should probably mention that vampires can do this really cool thing. You've probably heard of it from Dracula movies or the like. But it's actually true.
They can turn humans into vampires.
Yup. Completely rewrite their DNA.
Upgraded a monster of the night, new teeth and everything.
And it's not that hard of a process to do, either. A little vamp blood here, a little bloodlust there, and ta da! New member of the nest.
Kate turned that woman. It was… entertaining.
By morning John and the boys had found the nest. They were staked out in the big, old barn. They watched as Luther let another vamp into the barn. In broad daylight.
"Son of a bitch." Dean muttered, "So they're really not afraid of the sun?"
John watched the barn as he replied, "Ahh, direct sunlight hurts like a nasty sunburn." He doesn't tell the boys how he knows that piece of information. "The only way to kill 'em is by beheading. And yeah, they sleep during the day - doesn't mean they won't wake up."
"So I guess walking right in's not our best option." Dean replies.
"Actually, that's the plan." John looks at his sons.
Somehow, they weren't surprised by that answer.
Once inside, John went off looking for the Colt, while Sam and Dean tried to find the woman from the 911 call.
The barn was dirty and cramped; vamps were all asleep in these ratty looking hammocks. And there were a lot of them.
Dean found a cage full of humans, blood slaves, that were laying on the floor; some were asleep, some were unconscious.
Sam went to work untying the woman. She started to wake up while he was unknotting the ropes.
"Hey." He whispered to her. "Hey hey, shh, I'm here to help you."
He's such a good human. Not very smart though. See, the 911 woman was covered in blood. And it wasn't her own. If Sam had been paying more attention, put two and two together, he would've realized she wasn't human anymore.
The noise she let out was one of the most monstrous noises the boys had heard thus far. She screeched at the top of her lungs, like a bat out of hell. And, of course, this woke up everyone in a five-mile radius.
Sam and Dean heard John yell, "Boys, run!" and that was all the instruction they needed. The brothers bolted out of the barn, vamps on their heels. They ran far into the woods, only stopping once they couldn't hear the footsteps of anyone following them anymore.
They looked back into the woods, trying to spot their father. Surely he followed them, right? The vamps wouldn't get him, right? ...Right?
"Dad?" Dean called out. When there was no answer, he yelled again, "Dad!"
Dean let out a breath of relief when he saw his father climb out from the trees. Sam and Dean turned, ready to start running again, but John stopped them.
"They won't follow." He said, "They'll wait till tonight. Once a vampire has your scent, it's for life."
And they're impossible to get rid of.
"Well what the hell do we do now?" Dean asked.
John sighed, frustrated with the turn of events. "You gotta find the nearest funeral home, that's what."
Later that night, Sam paces their motel room while John sits at a desk, going through his journal. Dean's out getting dead man's blood.
After a while, John says softly. "Sammy."
"Yeah?" Sam stops pacing and stands in front of his dad.
"I don't think I ever told you this but ... the day you were born, you know what I did?" John's voice is gentle. Or the gentlest Sam's ever heard it.
"No."
"I put a hundred bucks into a savings account for you. I did the same thing for your brother." He paused, licking his lips. "It was a college fund. And every month I'd put in another hundred dollars, until... Anyway my point is, Sam, this is never the life that I wanted for you."
Sam always asked the important questions. Ever since he was little. When he asked a question, it was always a good one. "Then why'd you get so mad when I left?"
And, wow. The emotions that shot through John at just that. He tried to explain, he really did.
"You gotta understand something. After your mother passed all I saw was evil, everywhere. And all I cared about was keeping you boys alive."
Sam couldn't look away from his father during this confession.
"I wanted you...prepared. Ready. Except somewhere along the line I ... uh ... I stopped being your father and I ... I became your, your drill sergeant." John knew even that was an understatement. But admitting how terrible he was out loud is extremely hard for him. It's easier because it's Sam, if he was talking to Dean, this would be a bit of a different story. He was always… kinder to Sam.
"So when you said that you wanted to go away to school, all I could think about, my only thought was, that you were gonna be alone. Vulnerable. Sammy, it just... it never occurred to me what you wanted. I just couldn't accept the fact that you and me - We're just different." John finished.
Sam huffs a laugh.
That wasn't the reaction he was expecting. "What?"
Sam replies, bittersweetly, "We're not different. Not anymore. With what happened to Mom and Jess…" He laughs, but there's no humor in it. "Well, we probably have a lot more in common than just about anyone."
"I guess you're right, son." John smiles.
After a beat, Sam asked, "Hey, Dad? Whatever happened to that college fund?"
John replied simply, "Spent it on ammo."
They look at each other for a moment. The air is tense until Sam cracks up laughing and it doesn't take long for John to see the humor in it too. And for a moment, everything was right in the world. They weren't arguing. They weren't hunting. They were just father and son, laughing about the cards they were dealt.
They were a family.
But the hunt continues.
And Dean's bait! He's practiced at it; John's been using him as bait since he was 11, same year he got his first gun.
So as Dean leans over Baby, pretending to not know how to fix her, he smiles to himself when he hears someone walking up behind him.
"Car trouble?" A woman asks. Dean turns to see Kate smiling at him. "Let me give you a lift. I'll take you back to my place."
Getting hit on by monsters might actually be worse than getting hit by monsters, in Dean's opinion.
"Nah, I'll pass." He says, grinning. "I usually draw the line at necrophilia."
"Oh!" Kate coos, she loves the snarky ones. Their blood always tastes a bit bitter. She likes to mix it into her coffee. The vampire back hands Dean, leaving his skin stinging wildly. The force of it actually knocks Dean to the ground. Vampires are strong, man.
Another vamp approaches them as Kate lifts Dean into the air, holding him by just his jaw.
"I don't usually get this friendly until the second date, but…" Humor is Dean's defense mechanism. And, boy, was he defensive right now.
Kate smiles as she replies, "You know, we could have some fun. I always like to make new friends." She lowers him to her level and kisses him, still holding his cheeks tightly.
When she pulls away, Dean grunts out, "Oh- whuf. Sorry. I don't usually stay with a chick that long. Definitely not eternity."
Before Kate could reply, the vamp that was watching took an arrow to the knee. Oh, wait, no, that arrow shot him right in the heart. Sorry. Anyway, she wasn't long after. She let go of Dean, turning to glare at whoever shot her.
"Dammit." She growls as she looks down at the arrow sticking out of her chest.
John and Sam climb through the bushes then, each holding a crossbow in their hands.
"It barely even stings." She said to John.
The eldest hunter replied easily, resting his crossbow on his shoulder. "Give it time sweetheart. That arrow's soaked in dead man's blood." He watched as her expression turned shocked, and then darkened. "It's like poison to you isn't it?"
Dean caught her unconscious body before it hit the ground. As he went to load her into the Impala, John beheaded the other vamp. They didn't break eye contact until the machete went straight through the vamp's neck.
They set a trap for the rest of the nest using Kate.
John wanted that gun. And Kate's mate would come after her once he caught her scent.
"A half hour oughta do it." Sam said, once everything was set up. He was talking about how long they had until the vamps would be able to find them.
John replied sternly, "And then I want you out of the area as fast as you can."
"But…" Sam started, confused.
Dean interrupted, concern in his voice, "Well, Dad you can't take care of them all yourself."
"I'll have her. And the Colt." John shrugged it off.
Sam's voice was tense as he said, "But after. We're gonna meet up, right? Use the gun together. Right?"
There was a long pause, where John wouldn't answer. Believe it or not, but he didn't lie to his sons often. He wouldn't answer questions. But he didn't lie.
Sam already knew where this was going. "You're leaving again ,aren't you. You still wanna go after the demon alone. You know, I don't get you. You can't treat us like this."
"Like what?" John asked.
"Like children." Sam spat.
John's voice was hard as he said, "You are my children. I'm trying to keep you safe."
Dean replied for Sam could. "Dad, all due respect but, uh, that's a bunch of crap."
Sam's eyes widen in shock and for a moment, John is speechless. Dean just called out John on something? It must be the end of the world.
But this was one comment John wouldn't get away with. Only trying to keep them safe? Yeah, right. Sure, sometimes he was a protective parent. But Dean started learning how to hunt when he was ten. The next year he was used as bait for the monster of the week. He has so many bruises and scars from-
If John wanted to keep them safe, he should've done some things different. No hunting. No guns. ...No late-night bar visits.
John didn't see it that way, though. It was obvious in his tone. "Excuse me?"
Dean wasn't going to say all that, though. So instead, he replied with, "You know what Sammy and I have been hunting. Hell, you sent us on a few hunting trips yourself. You can't be that worried about keeping us safe."
John rolled his eyes, "It's not the same thing, Dean."
"Then what is it? Why do you want us out of the big fight?"
And for once, it's Sam watching Dean argue with John. Only, this argument has a lot less yelling and a lot more pain.
"This demon? It's a bad son of a bitch. I can't make the same moves if I'm worried about keeping you alive."
"You mean you can't be as reckless."
"Look... I don't expect to make it out of this fight in one piece. Your mother's death ... it almost killed me." Dean had to look away at the mention of it. He still remembers it. All of it. The early days, when John was a complete wreck. "I can't watch my children die too. I won't."
"What happens if you die? Dad, what happens if you die, and we coulda done something about it? You know I been thinking. I ...think maybe Sammy's right about this one. We should do this together."
Sam nods, but doesn't say anything.
Dean fights to keep his voice even as he says, "We're stronger as a family, Dad. We just are. You know it."
John's voice is quiet when he mutters, "We're running out of time. You do your job and you get out of the area. That's an order."
Dean looks down, furious and hurt and disappointed. Sam clenched his jaw as he watched John walk off. Family. Yeah, right.
John had Kate in the truck with him, he was driving down the road, with the vamps right on his tail. A good, old-fashioned car chase.
Dean went back to the barn to get those humans from the cage. He easily decapitated the only vamp that was there. And quickly went to unlock the cage.
The vamps got in front of John, blocked the road. He climbed out with Kate in ropes, a knife to her neck, and offered a trade. The monster for the weapon.
It was easy. John thought. Luther wouldn't put his mate in danger. So, of course. He dropped the gun and stepped away.
But when John went to pick the Colt up, things went sour.
Kate still had a lot of energy left in her. Fight or flight, you know? She elbowed John in the face and he fell against the impala, hittin his head on the concrete as he did. Luther picked him up, and punched him hard, sending John crashing into the window of his truck. Glass littered the ground as his body plummeted to the concrete again.
The vamps smiled as they stepped up to the fallen hunter. High from their victory, they didn't hear or smell the hunters that were in the trees just feet away. They weren't prepared for when an arrow flew straight into one of their chests.
The vamps watched as one of their own choked on the dead man's blood, grasping at the arrow helplessly. And then the hunters came.
Dean shot another vamp easily, but Luther had overpowered Sam's punching him in the face. Dean grabbed the machete that John had dropped and stood, ready to swing, in front of the monster and his brother.
"Don't." Luther warned, his arm flexing against Sam's throat, "I'll break his neck."
Dean froze, because everything in his mind did a U-Turn from 'killthevampkillthevampkillthevamp' to 'protectSamprotectSamprotectSam' in an instant.
Sam grunted as he gasped for breath and Dean held out his hand, slowly lowering the machete.
"You people." Luther said between his teeth. "Why don't you just leave us alone? We have as much a right to live as you do."
The reply came from behind the vamp, "I don't think so."
Luther turned, twisting Sam's beanstock of a body easily as he looked at John. With no pretense, the hunter held up the Colt and shot the vampire right in the forehead.
The vampire let go of Sam - Dean quickly pulled him away to safety - and fell to his knees. His entire body was shocked as the blood slowly ran down his nose. A very special gun just killed a very unimportant vampire.
The only reason Kate is still alive is because her friend pulled her to their car and quickly drove off.
There was only two of them now. They lost their family today.
Later that night, John walks into their motel room. "So boys."
They knew this was coming. Sam and Dean stood at attention, Sam spoke quietly, "Yes, sir."
"You ignored a direct order back there." John said simply, the threat easy to distinguish in his voice.
"Yes, sir." Sam said again.
Dean interrupted before either one of them could continue, "Yeah, but we saved your ass."
Sam looks sideways at Dean,eyes wide. John stares Dean down, and the younger hunter swallows, suddenly doubting his comment.
"You're right." John said finally.
"I am?" Dean tries to keep his face expressionless.
John nodded, "It scares the hell out of me. You two are all I've got. But I guess we are stronger as a family. So...we go after this damn thing. Together."
Both the boys said together, "Yes, sir."
And there it was. Everyone in that room could look at the other two and be sure that they had their back. There was no hate between them anymore; no words left unsaid. They were a family again.
Winchester and Sons.
At your service.
The family business.
Tell me what you think!