CHAPTER 7

There was a noise from inside the room. Sam and Dean looked at each other in apprehension. Sam's eyes closed for a second in prayer as he heard the lock being undone.

Then the door opened.

The man who opened the door was wearing jeans and a sweater. The clothes bagged a little on his stocky frame. He was of medium height, with intelligent brown eyes coming from a prematurely weathered face. His hair was salt and pepper with more salt then pepper. He had a fresh scar on his clean shaven chin and a few others that were not so fresh. There were dark circles under his eyes that were new.

His eyes widened as he took in the two on his doorstep.

"Sam?" he blurted out. "What are you doing here?"

"Geez dad, nice to see you too" Dean said with a roll of his eyes as he clasped the older man in his arms. John Winchester paused in shock for a moment before returning the embrace.

Sam noticed, not for the first time, the similarity between the two. And not just in height or coloring. It was the look in their eyes that really connected them. They were hunters. In a way that Sam would never be.

John stood back and invited the other two in with a wave of his arm. Dean went in first, then Sam. As Sam walked past John, they made eye contact. John broke it first, making Sam frown. His father was never the one to back down, what was going on?

The room was sparse. It had one double bed that was centered against one wall. There was a bureau on the opposite wall with a TV propped on top of it. A door just to the left of that led to the bathroom and the light escaping from the doorway was the only light in the room. Next to the window there was a small table with an empty ashtray and some books on it. There were only two chairs at the table. Dean walked over to the bed and sat, his hands resting on his knees.

"I just didn't expect you to bring Sam" John explained his reaction as he closed the door and locked it. "Shouldn't you be in school?" he continued, turning to Sam and looking up at him.

"Dean came for me when he couldn't find you" Sam answered briefly.

"That I expected." John said ruefully, shaking his head and sitting on one of the chairs. "You actually going with him on the other hand…" he finished with a small humorless smile and lifted his shoulders in a shrug.

Sam flushed at the comment. They hadn't seen each other for more than an hour in the past four years. But this wasn't the first time that John Winchester let Sam know that he didn't understand his son.

Whatever phone calls that they had shared had been awkward and short, with neither of them making the effort to connect with the other. Sam had always been jealous of the easy bond that Dean shared with their father. He had always attributed it to the fact that Sam had been too young to remember his mother, or her death. He hadn't had those memories pushing him to hunt. But know he had his own.

"Jessica's dead" Sam said in a flat voice.

John flinched from the shock of it. He avoided Sam's eyes as he turned to Dean for answers.

"The same way as mom" Dean said before John had opened his mouth.

John's eyes closed tightly as his worst fears were realized. He scraped a hand over his face and groaned. Thoughts rushed through his head quickly as he tried to decide what he would tell them.

"We can commiserate after you tell us what you know about this thing" Sam bit out with anger in his voice.

Dean stood up from where he was sitting and put his hands out palm up. There was a pacifying look on his face.

"Maybe we should all take a breath and relax" he said with a smile, suiting his words with action. He continued after exhaling. "First of all, where have you been?" he asked, turning to John with a questioning look.

"Here" John answered with a defeated tone. "After I couldn't stop the woman in white, I came here"

"Why couldn't you stop her?" Sam asked with a frown. "It was pretty basic…for you"

"That's what I told myself" John said with a self-depreciating chuckle. "But I still almost died"

"But she goes after guys who cheat…" Dean said as he looked at his father confusedly.

"Count on her to realize that every time I've been with a woman in the last twenty-two years I … felt like I was betraying your mother" John answered softly.

"So, then you just came here and hid?" Sam asked incredulously. "Just because you couldn't stop one…"

"It wasn't the first" John interrupted. "No matter how hard I tried to keep sharp, I still…got old" he finished weakly. "I left because I needed to know that Dean could take over. Because he needed to know he could"

"You left…so that I could build up my confidence?" Dean asked, his voice rising in anger. "Good thing I didn't just die instead" he snarked angrily.

"Dean" John said apologetically. "You know that I wouldn't have gone if I thought you couldn't handle it. And I was right"

"If it weren't for Sam I wou…" Dean started.

"You would be fine" Sam interrupted. "You always figure out a way to be fine"

Dean looked at his brother with a helpless look on his face. He then sat back down and looked down at his feet.

Everything was spinning out of control. He had known somewhere deep inside that his father hadn't wanted to be found before, but he hadn't thought it was because he was being tested. And because he passed he would have to continue alone. His father wasn't up to it and Sam was only along for the ride. He suddenly saw himself alone in his Impala, twenty years later, driving to another town and another hunt.

"I don't want to do this alone" Dean said quietly.

"You can stop whenever you want to" Sam answered, sitting next to his brother.

A harsh laugh escaped Dean as he shook his head. He looked up at Sam and their eyes met.

"I don't want to stop" Dean said before getting up and leaving the room. The door slammed behind him.

"I'll answer all your questions when Dean comes back" John said from where he sat. He started looking through the books on the table.

Sam's gaze moved from the door to John. It was only now that he noticed the weariness in the older man's eyes. He had lost weight since the last time that Sam had seen him. It wasn't too much, but it explained why his clothes were too big for him. John Winchester had always worn nicely fitted clothes. It was a trait that he had passed down to Dean.

"Have you been eating alright?" Sam asked. John glanced up from his books with a humorless grin on his face.

"Yeah, but I haven't really been able to keep muscle on" he joked. "Not one minute tooearly for retirement, am I?"