Disclaimer- I own nothing!

I really want to thank everyone for his or her reviews but I figured I would update this instead. I am

glad you like this story. I hope you all continue to read.

A/N: I am basing John's actions on what we seen in IMTOD. He is willing to do anything to save his

children.

Chapter 7

You can find many things when you are not looking for them. It is a universal truth. If you need

something, as soon as stop looking, you will find it. John Winchester realised this about five minutes

after he allowed the paramedics to begin to cut his son from the wreckage he was trapped under.

As soon as he had given his anguished consent, they had crowded around the limp form of his son.

They shouted things to each other that they, and not John, seemed to understand and obey. This flurry

of activity was lost on Sam. He lay, as still as ever, unaware of how precarious his hold on life was. It

was very likely that his youngest child was about to die in front of him. John was frozen with the

knowledge. He felt so useless. His instincts screamed at him to do something, to do anything! He had

placed a hurried kiss on Sammy's clammy hand before stepping back to let the men do their work.

He silently willed his son to hold on. Images flashed through his head. He was tormented with images

of Sammy. He saw Sammy lying in his crib, innocent to the evils of the world. He saw an older

Sammy, yet to lose his baby fat, tug his arm and whisper fearfully to him about "the thing in the

closet". Johns knew he was crying before he felt it. He turned his head away from Sammy. He could

not bear to see his child like that. John wondered if he was in any pain. John had not thought to ask.

Come on Sammy, He prayed, you have to help me out buddy. Hold on until we can get you to

surgery. Do not die. Not tonight…Please.

John looked up. His eye caught something he though he recognised. He snaked around the working

people. Ignoring the noise, he reached down and pulled familiar book from under a piece of

wreckage. He knew, instantly what had happened as he flicked through his journal. Sammy was

finishing the job and killing whatever son-of-a-bitch that needed killing. He obviously had fallen in the

middle of completing the job. The thought made him very sad. You sent your sons on this path.

Johns smile grew as he stopped at the right page. He thanked himself for having the foresight to write

it into the journal. You may have caused this you stupid son of a bitch but you can still fix it.

Glancing up and noting that no one was watching, John knelt on the dust. He began to trace the

symbols needed for the spell. The ground was dry. It was difficult. A warm feeling flooded through

him. Sam would make it to surgery, at the very least. He smiled and continued to work.

XxXXxXxxXxxXxXXxx

"I have watched enough ER to know that, even with two doses that will not kill me."

Sara merely raised her eyebrow as Dean continued recklessly. "I suppose that I should cut you a bit

of slack. If it does not crash, you are useless. I get it. However, let me give you a hint. Morphine

relieves pain…dumbass." Dean's rant was cut off abruptly. Sara covered his mouth. Her eyes

narrowed. "Shut…up" she growled, "You are giving me a headache."

Dean smiled, irritating Sara even more. It was a smile that said- If I am going down, I am not going

easy. Not removing her hand, she reached over and picked up the syringe again. Her hand

disappeared into the medical bag for a second before reappearing. The syringe was full with the liquid

again. Dean's eyes followed the syringe helplessly. Sara's eyes twinkled maliciously, "I am getting

good at this, aren't I?" Dean's eyes rolled back as the drug took affect. He moaned. She released her

grip on his mouth. Dean did not react. She clicked her fingers in front of his eyes. He barely reacted.

Nice and doped up. She was satisfied. He was hers. She was surprised. She thought that it would be

harder than this. She had expected some sort of resistance from the man. To tell the truth, she was

rather disappointed. After all the stories about the young hunter escapades, she felt a little cheated.

Here was a person who had managed to survive an entire night locked in a house with three

poltergeists. Now, he had seemingly given up without a fight.

What is different now?

She was interrupted from her musings by a shout from above. The noise around her had ceased. The

hole was still only marginally wide.

"20 minutes" Shouted down a voice. He will be dead in ten.

"Okay," she shouted back and smiled. She saw the middle-aged man smile shyly back. She resisted

the urge to roll her eyes. Men, they were all the same.

"I know what is different this time. Your bean pole of a brother." She said aloud. She stroked Dean's

hair. She sighed and prepared another syringe.

"It is a shame Dean. We could have been great friends. But you will be too big of a pain in the ass if I

let you live." She laughed and injected another round of morphine. Dean's body shuddered again.

"I wonder if you know what you were supposed to do." She mused aloud. She fingered the necklace

again. "Probably not, knowing Daddy John. Love is a stupid human instinct. It gets you all killed. You

probably do not know why you wear this necklace. What it all means." She was reflective for a

second. "Too bad. Ignorance is bliss as they say. So at least you will die happy." She talked on,

unaware that the radio was on and unaware that someone was listening.