What Becomes of Us
Chapter 2: Coming Home
John spent the last few weeks thinking over what Bobby had told him and considering the trip to visit Missouri. He knew if he went down this road, he could completely lose grip of what little sanity he had left. He feared the answers he may find. Part of him feared either being told he was crazy or actually going crazy.
When he looked at his boys, he knew he needed to provide for them. He needed to stop grieving and move on. H needed to be the father they deserved. Running off to meet a psychic wasn't going to help him take care of his boys. John decided he would need to take control of the boys and the situation. He began looking for somewhere they could stay. At least a temporary home was better then living with someone else.
He and the boys found a small two bedroom apartment that rented weekly. He used a chunk of the money left over from Mary's life insurance polices to pay ahead on the room and another chunk to fix the house. They'd be able to stay there for two months. The house should be finished. By then, John had to have his head on straight and find a job. There was a small chance he could go back to the shop. If not, well, he'd figure something out.
They moved in to the apartment on a Friday afternoon. Everything they owned fit neatly into three bags. He was saddened that there wasn't even enough clothes to fill the dressers. He'd been lucky to have what they did. Ann's church had a clothing drive for them after the fire. Otherwise, they'd have a lot less.
It was 8 o'clock at night and the pizza boxes from supper remained on the counter. Sam was settled into the apartment's crib and Dean was watching television in the bedroom. Overall it had been a good day. Dean loved spending time with his dad. With pride he'd helped pick out the furnished apartment and went with his dad to find a contractor for the house. Dean smiled at Sammy who snored in the crib. He was certain things were going to be OK. He rested his head and began to doze off to sleep.
John drank his whiskey and thought. Thinking wasn't the best thing for him. He couldn't get the yellow eyes out of his head. They invaded his dreams. He saw them in mirrors or glass windows. He was paranoid. He was obsessed. He tried hard to keep this obsession hidden from everyone, especially from Dean. Dean had become quite the mother hen through all of this. John didn't want to give him anything more to worry about.
After Mary's death, he'd seen a psychologist. It only took a couple of visits for him to decide he didn't like shrinks. But the one thing he did take away from that guy was journaling. Several weeks back he'd purchased a black leather bound journal. He'd started writing down everything he could remember about the night Mary died. He wrote down everything Bobby had told him. It seemed therapeutic to get some of it out of his head. He picked-up the journal and began writing about the eyes.
They'd lived at the apartment one and half months and John was struggling to find a job. He'd applied at all of the local mechanic shops and even three in a nearby town. No one was hiring. He'd even gotten up the courage to go back to his old employer, but he'd turned him down. I need someone reliable. Hell, I'm reliable. He needs someone without two motherless kids. He was bitter and desperate. He was on his way to the local grocery store to apply there. If they'd hire high school kids, surely they'd hire me.
After a strangely long interview, he was the newest member of the grocery store's team. He'd been handed an apron on his way out and was told to come back the following morning at 8 am to finalize wage and hours. Walking out of the store he felt oddly good about such a mediocre job.
Since he was feeling so good, he picked the boys up from Anne's a bit early. She was obviously happy he'd found a job. She'd volunteered before to watch the boys when John found a job. Before leaving he confirmed a 0745 drop-off. And the three left to go get ice cream.
Dean still remembers that day. He had chocolate and Sammy shared vanilla with John. They sat outside the ice cream shop and watched the cars drive by as they ate their ice cream. It was one of those few times Dean remembered his daddy relaxed. Dean remembered the sun beating down on his face. They'd all laughed when Sammy spilled Dean's empty ice cream bowl onto his pants. Sammy's legs were covered in the Chocolate soup. After ice cream they went to a park and played the rest of the afternoon. That night, all three of them snuggled up in one bed. John skipped his nightly dose of Whiskey. It was a perfect day for Dean and his family.
John and the boys had gotten into a routine. He'd been working at the grocery store for two weeks. He was working mother's hours, 9 AM to 3 PM. These hours were good for John, it let him ease into work. The manager had talked to him about the potential of moving into an assisted manager role. This would be a good move for them since there'd be a pay raise and full-time hours.
John stood outside the finished house. He wasn't certain he could go in. The boy's were still at Ann's. He doubted they knew he was there. There was no evidence of a fire; the contractors had done a good job. He was impressed as he walked up the sidewalk to the porch, and from the porch to the house. His hand paused on the door handle as he pulled it open. He swore he heard Mary's voice.
John, is that you?
He sucked in air. It's not real, I know it's not real. He waited; Mary's voice didn't return, he walked into the house.
Hey there! Come-up stairs. John walked over to the stairs. He paused, and waited. John? I'm waiting. Her voice beckoned him; he shook his head in a failed attempt to gain control of reality.
"Mary? Is it you?" John ran up the stairs. "Where are you baby?"
Her infectious laughter, In the baby's room. Hurry! Mary's voice changed from playful to urgent and scared. John, Oh my GOD! JOHN!
John ran down the hallway to Sam's nursery. At first it was empty with the new paint smell invading his nostrils. But then slowly coming into focus, Sam's old crib, dresser, and wall decorations appeared.
"Mary?" He looked around the room. Nothing, but her voice continued to resonate in his head. He frantically looked around the room. Nothing; then he remembered the worse night of his life and slowly glanced up. There pinned to the ceiling was Mary. He screamed and the image disappeared. John was no longer in Sam's old nursery, but he was on his knees sobbing in the newly painted and remodeled room.
That's where Bobby found him. "Hey, you ok?" Bobby pocked at him.
John's face was puffy from crying. He looked at Bobby through tear-filled eyes. "I'm fine. What are you doing here?"
"I heard your house was finished. And thought I'd better check it out." Bobby had a small hand-held electrical device. The red lights along the top blinked occasionally. The clock-hand dial didn't move. "The house looks clean. Whatever happened was here, is no longer here. It should be safe for you and your family."
"My family," John sobbed and broke down again.
"Will you stop crying like a baby. You're starting to make me feel like we're on some damn girly show." Bobby shook his head. No sense for a grown man to act that. Idget.
After John had collected himself and Bobby left, he went to pick-up Sam and Dean. He wanted them to see their new home. That night was their first night in the house. There wasn't furniture yet, so they camped out in the living room. Although neither would admit it, Dean and John were grateful to be sleeping so close. Neither of them were truly ready to be back in this house.
John laid awake listening to his son's soft snores. They'd been out for almost an hour. John's mind continued to go back to the day's events. He knew somehow he either needed to move on or he had to find the man responsible for his wife's death. He couldn't remain here in purgatory anymore. Tomorrow he was off from work. He'd drop the boys off with Ann and go see this Missouri woman. He hoped she'd help him know what to do.
The next day, he dropped Dean and Sam off at Ann's and drove to see Missouri.
AN: sorry for the lateness, we've had a rash of illness in our house the last couple of weeks. I do hope you enjoy the chapter. As always, any feedback is always appreciated! Thanks for reading!