Innocence Regained

Disclaimer: I know nothing, I see nothing, I hear nothing, whoops wrong disclaimer. I promise that I am not making any money or profiting in anyway from this story. I don't have claim to Supernatural, the characters or anything else to do with the show.

Author's Note: This is the promised third part of the Wee!Chester Innocence Trilogy, it follows on pretty much straight after the ending of Innocence Reviled.

Author's Note: There is no explicit child sexual abuse in this story.

S—D

Chapter Two: Knock, Knock, Who's There?

John bent down and brushed a kiss on the cheeks of both of his sons, pulled the blankets up to their shoulders and turned the nightlight on before he crept out of the bedroom and headed towards the shower. He was not in the mood to talk to anyone, even though he knew that the two detectives were still downstairs talking to Jim. He needed to sort out his own thoughts. He stood under the torrents of hot steaming water washing away the dust and debris of the day but couldn't remove the stain on his heart or soul.

Tears mingled with the water and cascaded down his craggy face, pooling slightly in the depth of his dimples before continuing downwards tangling in his beard. His muscles, ached and protested greatly wanting to shut down, they started to cramp only adding fuel to his frustrations, to his inability to protect his boys.

'Ah Mary I am so, so sorry,' he wept, 'I couldn't do it, no matter how hard I try I couldn't protect our boys. They deserve someone better than me raising them.' He slowly slid down the wall of the shower until he crouched on the bottom, the water relentlessly fell on him, but nothing cleaned him of his sin.

'I try Mary but damn it's so hard ... the boys ... little Sammy his leg ... the doctors don't know if it will ever be right and then Dean what he has witnessed and done ... no adult should go through that let alone an eight year old. You'd be so proud of him Mary, he was the one to protect Sammy, I did nothing but let them down.' Wallowing in his own self-pity John hadn't realised that the hot water was now running cold, leaving goosebumps on his flesh in its wake.

'John, John are you alright in there?' The pounding on the door and Jim's frantic calls soon broke John out of his reverie. Shaking he reached up and turned the water off but remained seated on the bottom of the shower.

'Yeah, yeah m'fine Jim, thanks.' He managed to croak out, 'be right down.'

'Okay, call if you need me.'

'Thanks Jim.' John slowly unfolded his long frame and winced as his back tightened and cramped, 'damn it.' He kneaded it for a few moments until he felt something give and then he continued to stand and get out.

Wearily he wiped the steam from the mirror and stared at his haggard appearance, it was a wonder that he didn't frighten the boys with the way he looked. A wave of determination swept through him and he picked up his razor, time to start acting like a father again.

He felt a cool sensation brush past his cheek and an overwhelming sense of peace surge through him, 'I love you too Mary, it's gonna be okay.' He straightened his shoulders and methodically started to shave away his beard.

S—D

'Coffee smells good.' The gruff voice rumbled behind Jim and the cleric turned with a smile on his face to see a showered and shaved John Winchester standing in the doorway, dressed in clean jeans and shirt.

'Well, well do I have a new guest in the house?'

'Ha ha, very funny preacher man, so where's the java?'

'Right here and you do look better John though a few nights of sleep wouldn't hurt either.'

'Thanks, I think I had a gentle kick in the rear to get me going again.'

'Sorry?' Jim passed him his coffee a look of curiosity on his face at the cryptic statement.

'Nothing, so the police have gone?'

'Yeah, they gave me all the information they had and want to talk to you about going into protective custody.'

'Hmm dunno bout that.' John sipped his coffee and sighed appreciatively.

'I was thinking about that, how would you feel about staying in a cabin for a while?'

'Jim I – I can't just give the hunt up, I still have to find Mary's killer.'

'Yes I know John but you also have two little boys desperate for their father's love and protection while they get through the trauma.' Jim tried to keep his voice as low and as gentle as he could knowing that he was treading a fine line. 'These men, they are predators, they know how to hunt their prey, to set up the attack they are meticulous and devious. Look at how they first took the boys.'

'That was because of a personal vendetta against me.' John amended not really liking the direction the Pastor was taking the conversation.

'Yes, yes it was but look who he was willing to sell the boys too.' Jim abandoned the gentle touch and decided to go for the direct approach, 'he exposed them to paedophiles, he was going to sell your boys think about that John. But for the Grace of God and a few breaks those boys of yours could be ...'

'Don't ... I already know that.'

'Then listen to me, the hunt originally put your boys into danger, you are on your own so much John I understand that, but you have to also look at the risks involved, thankfully your sons were not abused sexually but that was the objective of these men. They keep a network you heard the detectives when they told us about the photos, Claude was already grooming them.'

'Jim ... you don't ...'

'Don't tell me I don't understand John, perhaps I understand more than you will ever realise. We all have our reasons for entering the hunt and for continuing it. Do you honestly think I would rather hunt than attend my parish?'

'I never really ...'

'Just because you are on your own doesn't make it any less or any more than others and their reasons, we all have our stories.'

'Jim ... if you ... what happened to make you want to join?'

Jim stood up and turned to the coffee pot, he poured them both another drink, he stood for a moment gathering his thoughts before he turned back to the younger man sitting at his kitchen table.

S—D

Blue Earth

Minnesota

November 1967

'The house is beautiful Jim.' Anna Murphy smiled sweetly at her husband and rested a hand on her rounded stomach. 'It's perfect for the boys.'

'This parish seems very welcoming as well,' Jim laughed when he found the cupboards filled with food and the fridge flowing with casseroles and dairy produce.

'It's going to be fine,' Anna kissed him gently, 'you're going to be a wonderful preacher for this parish.'

'Thanks, so where is JJ?'

'He wanted to check out the yard,' Anna said taking her husband's hand they walked out of the kitchen and settled on the back porch watching James Junior running happily around the yard playing with their black Labrador pup. 'Come on Sooty this way.' He yelled and gave his parents a quick wave before disappearing into the barn.

'Mom, dad come quick.' He called them, a sound of urgency in his five-year old voice.

'Go Jim, I'll be right behind.' Anna said as she slowly stood up and eased her back a little, 'go on.'

Jim gave her a kiss and then hurried off to find what their son was so excited about, by the time Anna reached the barn she found her husband, her son and their puppy surrounded by a litter of boisterous tabby kittens.

'Look Mommy!' JJ said happily, 'can I keep em?'

S—D

Christmas Eve 1967:

Jim paced the waiting room chewing his fingernails; he had brought Anna in two hours ago with premature labour pains. The doctors all assured them that was alright, that the baby was only a couple of weeks early. 'Dear Lord watch over them.' He kept muttering until the doctor came out with a weary but large smile on his face, 'Doctor?'

'Congratulations Pastor Murphy, you're the father of a baby girl.' The doctor shook his hand and then left the happy and relieved father waiting to see his two girls.

Jim brushed a kiss on Anna's forehead, 'I love you.' He whispered.

'Say hello to your daughter.' Anna said as she revealed the tiny bundle in her arms, 'I love you too so much.'

'Welcome to the world Grace Anne Murphy.' Jim said with tears in his eyes.

S—D

March 1969:

Jim scrubbed at his eyes tiredly and finally put his sermon down, he had been working on it all afternoon and was happy with it at last. A tiny pair of hands tugged at his trousers and he stared down to the fair-haired toddler staring up at him with crystalline blue eyes. 'Daddad.'

'Well hello Angel, how's daddy's little girl?' He smiled and picked her up, hugging her tightly, 'where's your mama?'

'Right here as always.' Anna smiled at him as she finished preparing their dinner, 'want to get the children washed up for dinner?'

'Mmm, smells wonderful.' Jim wrapped his free arm around his wife's waist and pulled her into a hug, 'so where is our boy?'

'Out back I think.' Anna kissed him lightly, 'oh and I think you had better change Gracey while you're at it.'

'JJ?' Jim called his son's name repeatedly, but there was no sign of him, anxiously he searched the parsonage yard, the church and the small graveyard but there was no sign of the seven year old.

The police came along with members of the parish and soon a search party was organised, but to no avail. James Murphy junior was missing, presumed dead.

Grief-stricken the Anna and Jim refused to let Grace out of their sight and continued to search for their missing son.

S—D

September 1969:

James Murphy Junior returned home, almost exactly six months to the day he went missing, but the boy had changed. He had no memory of what happened to him, he no longer spoke, or made any sound whatsoever. He remained silent and kept vigil over his little sister, protecting her at all costs.

S—D

January 1970:

The snow storms were fierce, tragedy was an every day occurrence, it was almost as if something evil controlled the weather.

Anna watched as her husband slowly pulled out of the driveway, called out to attend one of his parishioners who was dying after a horrific car accident. She had a feeling of foreboding, she felt the baby move restlessly and she rubbed her stomach idly, 'don't worry baby daddy will be home soon.'

She relaxed on the couch and waited for Jim to return, JJ and Grace were sound asleep in their shared bed, the little girl wrapped safely in her big brother's arms. The lights flickered a few times and with a heaving sigh, Anna stood and went to find the candles, expecting another blackout.

The knock on the door startled her, and caused her to drop the candles, 'can I help you?'

'My car broke down and I saw your lights on.' A stranger's voice came from the shadows of the porch.

'Are you from around here?' Anna asked nervously, there was something about the stranger that made her feel so uneasy.

'No not really, just in town visiting my parents for the holidays.' Came the reply, 'just wanted to use your phone to call em.'

'Well I'm not sure ...'

'I think that you know them, Martin and Rose South.'

'Martin and Rose?' Anna calmed a little, she knew the couple well they were members of their little congregation. 'Of course please come in.'

S—D

Exhausted, Jim climbed the steps to the parsonage slipping slightly on the melting snow. 'Anna?' He called as he slipped his boots off and went to find his wife.

'No!' He choked out when he saw the blood spattered living room, the body of his beautiful, pregnant wife lay at the bottom of the stairs, her eyes open but glazed over and unseeing, two large puncture marks marred the creamy flesh of her throat.

'JJ? Gracey?' He screamed and ran up the stairs, he dropped to his knees sobbing and vomiting just inside the children's bedroom. His beautiful children lay still wrapped in each other's arms, blood covered their tiny bodies and puncture marks littered their necks.

S—D

'They looked like angels lying there,' Jim's voice broke as he finished telling his own story, 'I lost my wife, my unborn child, my daughter and my son.'

'Jim I am so ...'

'When I found out what killed them ... vampires I walked away from the church and well as they say the rest is history.'

'You still live here? Even after?'

'This was our home, Anna and the children loved it here I couldn't not move.' Jim pulled his hand over his face and straightened his shoulders, 'we all have our own reasons John what matters is what we do about it.'

'That's why I have to find what killed Mary ...'

'But you have to look after your sons John, I never ... I had my children taken from me, you have a chance to make sure that never happens to you.' Jim placed his empty mug on the sink, 'one of my congregation has a small cabin in the mountains not far from here, he lets me use it to ...get away when it gets too much especially around their anniversary.'

'Jim ...'

'Just until the police find out more, John you can't go to Bobby's it's too close to where Claude took the boys, too many people know that you are staying here, the protective custody ... well we know how to look after our own.'

John drained his coffee and went to place it in the sink and stood next to Jim thinking for a moment, 'we'll leave in the morning.'

'Good, good, I'll ring Bobby and he can meet you there.'

'Bobby?'

'Two adults are better than one, plus I think after a while with just two boys to keep you company you will need adult conversation.'

'True,' John smiled softly, 'thanks Jim, for everything and for trusting me enough to tell me about your family.'

'We're family John, perhaps not by blood but family just the same.' Jim squeezed John's shoulder and then went to ring Bobby, and then to get the arrangements done for the departure of the Winchester family in the morning.

S—D

John stood and stared around the cabin in amazement, not overly large but it had a loft bedroom, a comfortable living area and a fully stocked kitchen. The bathroom had a shower and bath and separate toilet. It was clean, airy and bright, perfect for the boys and for himself to recuperate.

He looked down at the two small boys next to him and afforded himself a small smile when he saw the happy and curious looks on their faces. Perhaps Jim was right after all.

'Uncle Bobby will be here soon boys and then maybe we could go and do some fishing.'

'Kay daddy.' Dean murmured holding Sammy's hand tightly, 'where we sleep?'

'Up there with me tiger, there's a big double bed for you two and a single one for me.'

'What bout uncle Bobby?'

'He'll camp out down here, the couch folds out into a bed.'

'Oh.'

'You okay tiger?'

'Yeah thanks dad.' Dean's keen gaze roamed the interior of the cabin, making mental notes on where everything was, how many windows and where they were and the two doors. 'It's okay.'

'What do you think champ?' John crouched down in front of Sammy, 'do you like it?'

Sammy nodded yes and then looked up at Dean when he saw the smile on his big brother's face he gave his father a dimpled smile. 'Sammy likes.'

'Good then, so how about we get unpacked and then have some lunch?' John tried to make himself sound a lot happier than he felt and hoped that Bobby would bring some refreshment adult style with him.

After lunch the boys played quietly under a large shady tree and John reclined on a large cane chair seemingly dozing. But, as the saying goes, appearances can be deceiving. Both boys jumped and ran to their father when they heard the sound of a vehicle coming up the dirt track.

'It's okay it's only uncle Bobby.' John reassured the boys when he saw the familiar truck, 'look Sammy I think he's brought someone else with him.'

Sammy's eyes widened when he saw the passenger in his uncle's truck, he tugged on Dean's hand and pointed excitedly.

'Yeah Sammy I can see.' Dean said with a small smile.

'Thanks for coming Bobby.' John shook hands with his friend and took his duffle bag from him.

'Hey John, Dean, Sammy how you boys doing?'

'Hey uncle Bobby.' They said in unison but focused their attention solely on the ball of energy behind the man.

'Oh, yeah almost forgot, this here is hmm well I aint sure what he's called yet but I thought that you boys might want to name him for me?'

'Really?' Dean whispered his eyes wide and bright, 'we can?'

'Yep he's here to play with you two while us oldies put our feet up.'

'Hey nuff of the old.' John laughed and then laughed even harder when the newest arrival cocked its leg on Bobby's.

Bobby almost let go with a string of curses and threats against the mutt until he heard two little boys giggling happily at the pup's antics. 'You'll keep.' He hissed and then handed the lead over to Dean, 'ya better take him afore I send him back the way he came.'

'Thanks uncle Bobby.' Dean and Sammy took the brown pup to the tree where they were playing earlier, while the two adults broke open a beer each and sat back watching them.

'Thanks Bobby, the pup's a great diversion but ...'

'Yeah I know it stays with me.'

'Yeah can't have a dog in the impala.' John said laughing when he saw the dog jump on Dean and licking the boy mercilessly.

'Yeah, yeah keep yer hair on, since I lost Macarthur I was looking for a new yard dog.'

'Uhhuh, but seriously it seems to have worked wonders.'

'And can make noise too.' Bobby said his demeanour changing slightly as he grew serious, 'Jim filled me in on what the cops told ya.'

'The bastard took photos Bobby he had them set up to sell.'

'Dying was too good for him.'

'Now there's another sniffing after them ... Damn Bobby what do I do?'

'For now we keep em safe and happy.' Bobby said thoughtfully, 'what about Dean's schoolin?'

'I ah talked to the principle at the school he's going to go too, he gave me some work for him and well yeah not much else we can do.'

'How they doing? Honestly?'

'Dean had a nightmare the other day, we had trouble getting him to wake up, he said that Claude was back with a man with black eyes.' John chugged his beer, 'he said that they were after him and Sammy.'

'Shit when will those kids get a break?' Bobby shook his head, 'how's Sammy's leg?'

'Doctors say that it will be as good as it will get, I'd like him to see Tim again, he was good with Sammy.'

'I think I can arrange for Tim to come up here without attracting too much attention.'

'How long Bobby?'

'How long what John?' Bobby asked not wanting to hear the answer.

'How long are we gonna be cooped up here? I gotta keep the hunt going Bobby, the longer we're hiding away here the colder the trail becomes.'

'Hey hold on there John, you got yer two boys to think of, the hunt will still be there when you can get back to it.'

'Yeah I know, it's just that ... I hate sitting and doin' nuthing.'

'Yer aint doin' nuffin, geeze man look at those two.' Bobby took a deep breath, 'bet ya haven't even had that party for Sammy yet.'

'No, not yet.'

'Honestly Winchester sometimes I think yer need a four-by-four over the head a few times to knock some sense into ya.'

'Bobby...'

'Nope, now go and git us another beer, lucky for ya I got the stuff for his birthday party, as late as it is.'

S—D

They sat around the fireplace later that evening, the puppy curled up on the mat in front of the fire with Sammy next to it dozing lightly. Dean lay next to his brother watching the flames flickering with a lazy stare, for the first time in a long time he actually felt happy and safe. 'Dad?'

'Yeah son?' John looked up from cleaning his guns to look at his eldest child, 'what's wrong?'

'Claude's dead isn't he?'

'Yeah he is Dean he's not coming back.'

'Then how comes we're hiding out?'

'Who says that we're hiding out?' John tried to make it sound casual but he couldn't hide the tenseness in his voice.

'I'm not stupid dad. Why else are we here in a cabin, with you and uncle Bobby? And a puppy as well.'

'I know that you're not stupid Dean.'

'It's coz of the police visit earlier isn't it?'

'Yes Dean.'

'So?'

'They think that there might be another ...'

'The man Claude spoke to on the phone sometimes?' Dean asked as he sat up and moved closer to Sammy.

'Dean?' John and Bobby exchanged looks and then turned their attention back to Dean, 'come here son.' John said as he put the gun away.

Dean came over and leaned against his father's leg, almost sitting on his knee, 'Dean you're not in trouble just let me know what happened okay?'

'I heard Claude on the phone sometimes when he thought that me and Sammy were asleep.' Dean started as he fidgeted nervously, 'he told him bout me and Sammy, said that we was his new sons.'

John ground his teeth together to stop himself from yelling; instead, he waited for Dean to continue in his own time.

'I heard him one night, he made me and Sammy take this stuff but I waited until he left and then spat it out. It was gross, it made us sleep lots, or he used needles.' Dean's eyes glazed over slightly as he started to remember, 'they hurt and made Sammy cry, he liked to make Sammy cry. He knew Sammy didn't like clowns so he kept scarin' him 'specially if he thought Sammy did sumfin wrong.' Dean took a deep breath and looked up at his father, his green eyes held more in them than most adults, the grief, terror; guilt and anger mingled together and made them look so dark that they were almost black. 'He, he punished us lots, and made us call him daddy, he let us play in our room, Sammy's leg was really bad agin, he put Sammy's brace on too tight and twisty. I heard him yellin' at the man on the phone, he was so mad. Then he came in and said he had to give us medicine. Why did he? We wasn't sick?' Dean looked imploringly at his father, 'he hit me and twisted Sammy's arm till ... after he gave us the ... the needles we had to go to the bathroom and put our pull up diapers on.'

'Pull ups?' Bobby glanced at John and could see the rage simmering under the surface.

'For boys that wet the bed, but he used em when he left us tied up and stuff ...' This was the most Dean had ever said about their time as captives of Claude; part of John was proud of his son for feeling up to telling him. The other part just wanted to bring the bastard back and then kill him again.

'I had to save Sammy, I – I had to make sure ol' stinky didn't hurt Sammy again.' Dean said he turned to look down at his sleeping brother, 'he kept hurtin' Sammy and then he took pictures of Sammy cryin' and when we're in the bath, he made us bath together, he told one man bout Sammy's birfmark.'

'He what?' John blinked in shock.

'He told a man bout Sammy's birfmark the one on his butt. Old Stinky kept takin' our pictures, hated it but we had to be good.'

'It's alright son.' John pulled him onto his knee properly and hugged him tightly, rubbing his back soothingly, needing the contact as much as Dean.

'No, no don't ... please don't do that ...' Dean cried out and struggled to get off his father's knee, his eyes wild and his chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath.

'Dean?'

'No, no not David I'm Dean and Sammy's not Sean.' Dean cried out as the panic attack grew in its intensity and he no longer recognised his father. Hurrying to his brother he gathered Sammy into his arms and backed them into a corner. The two brothers huddled together crying, Dean was lost in the memories and not aware of his surroundings and his father, Sammy cried after waking and seeing his brother so upset, instinctively he knew something was wrong and clung to his only anchor.

John took a deep breath and ran his fingers through his hair, he had to handle this just right or he was on the verge to lose his boys' trust forever.

Moving with cautious slowness, he crouched down to Dean's eye level and held his hands up in the most unthreatening manner he could think of, 'Dean, hey it's alright it's just me.' He kept repeating the same words in a low controlled voice while he kept a steady gaze on his two sons.

'Sammy, Dean it's just me daddy no one else, Claude is gone, he's dead.'

'No, no gotta protect Sammy.' Dean mumbled and tightened his grip on his brother.

'Dean you're scaring Sammy a little son, can you take a couple of big breathes and relax a little.'

'Hurts us, hurts us.'

'No, no one is gonna hurt you here, it's just us and Uncle Bobby.'

'Un-uncle Bobby?' Dean blinked and cocked his head slightly, 'Uncle Bobby?'

'Yes Dean, just you, Sammy, me and Uncle Bobby.' John assured him as he moved slightly closer, 'see it's just us.'

'Dad?' Dean squinted at his father, 'dad?'

'Yeah it's me.'

'Uncle Bobby?'

'Right here with us.'

'Claude?'

'Dead son, he's dead he can't hurt you anymore.'

'Scared.'

'I know Dean but I'm right here, not gonna go anywhere.'

'You left us.' Dean cried out holding Sammy tighter, 'you left us, an' and he came an' took us and then Claude ... he pretended to love us ... pretended to be our dad, he hurt us and you left us.'

Dean's words echoed in John's mind and intensified his guilt tenfold; he had no idea on how he was going to make it up to his boys: Mary's boys. 'I am so, so very sorry Dean I promise I'm not leaving.'

'Promise?' Dean asked timidly as he sat up and looked at his father, 'promise to stay?'

'Yes Son I will stay with you.' John said knowing deep down that it was a hollow promise.

TBC