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Chicago, Illinois, 2006
John walked into the hotel room, thoughts and emotions swirling around in his head like storm. He had raced to Chicago after discovering the boys were in trouble, and had arrived at an abandoned warehouse just in time to see the body of a young woman fall to her death. From there, he had went to the hotel he knew his boys were staying in, and waited for them to return. John looked out of the window, and rubbed his hand across his face. If his sons weren't as good at hunting as they were, they could've been killed. Hell, if they weren't as lucky as they were...
He sighed. There was nothing he could do. If he had known when the boys were younger that training the boys would lead to this he would never had done it. The hunting life, while important to saving people, too often led to early and tragic deaths. But the past was the past. There was nothing he could do to change it. All he could do was live in the present, and prepare for the future.
"...Better safe than sorry," he heard Sam mumble. That's his boy. Always be prepared, just like he trained him. He heard the lock unclick and the door open.
"Hey!" Dean shouted. John turned away from the window, and stepped out of the shadows. "Dad," Dean said quietly.
"Hey boys," John said softly, a quiet smile on his face. His sons were bloody, dirty, and exhausted, but he was so glad to see them. He walked forward and closed the distance between him and his eldest, hugging Dean with all he had. After a moment he pulled away and turned to the younger brother.
"Hi Sam."
Sam pulled his duffle of of his shoulder and said, "Hey Dad."
Dean looked between John and his brother. "Dad it was a trap," Dean explained. "I didn't know, I'm sorry."
John looked at his son, heard the sincerity in his voice. "S'alright. I thought it might've been."
"Were you there?" Dean questioned.
"Yeah, just in time to see the girl take the swan dive," He confirmed. "She was the bad guy, right?"
"Yes, sir," his sons answered together.
John nodded. "Good. Well, it doesn't surprise me. It's tried to stop me before."
Sam furrowed his eyebrows slightly. "The demon has?"
"It knows I'm close. It knows I'm gonna kill it. Not just exorcise it, or send it back to Hell, but actually kill it."
"How?" Dean asked.
John smiled, famous Winchester dimples showing. "I'm working on that."
"Then let us come with you," said Sam as he nodded toward his brother. "We'll help."
John shook his head. "No, Sam," He said. See the unhappiness in his youngest's eyes he continued. "Try to understand, Sam. This demon is serious. I don't want you caught in the cross-fire. I don't want you hurt."
"You don't have to worry about us," countered Sam, hoping to convince his father.
"Of course I do. I'm your father," John breathed. "Listen Sammy, last time we were together we had one hell of a fight."
"Yes sir," confirmed Sam.
John smiled softly. "It's good to see ya again. S'been a long time."
"Too long," Sam agreed. They both stepped forward to hug each other, and though they would never admit it, there were the beginnings of tears in their eyes. Both men stepped back, turning away briefly to remove any sign of tears.
John smiled and opened his mouth before he was thrown back by an invisible force. He could see his sons being attacked by nothing but shadows. Suddenly, a white hot pain attacked his chest, Sam yelled something incomprehensible, the world became white, and he knew no more.
Lebanon, Kansas, 2014
Castiel squinted at the three men that lay before them. They looked like John, Sam, and Dean from the past, but he had to be sure. He furrowed his brows and looked past their bodies, and into their souls. He immediately knew it was them. John had no demonic taint or angel grace in his soul, and while it was far from pure, it was definitely human. Sam's he was familiar with. His soul was whole and healthy, or would be if not for the slight bit of darkness that lingers around the edges. Finally, Dean's soul was the most obvious to him. It shined like no other- the righteous man before Hell mangled him.
Dean looked at him, silently questioning if they were who they looked to be. He nodded. "We should get these looked at," Dean said, nodding at the obviously bloody men. Cas nodded and prepared to heal them, when he noticed it. Though they were bloody, he could not find any reason for it. They had no injuries to speak of.
"There is nothing to heal." said Cas.
Dean looked at him, confused. "What do you mean, there's nothing to heal? Look at them! There all... bloody. Oh. Oh," Dean realized, finally noticing the apparent lack of injuries.
"They must have been healed somehow in their journey here."
Dean nodded. "Yeah, speaking of that, why are they here? I mean, why them specifically?"
Castiel looked thoughtful for a moment. "There is a chance that because the original source of the supernatural energy came from you, it attached itself to your thoughts and emotions. I doubt the amplifier helped much," Cas said. "Were you thinking of anything that might have connected them to you?"
Dean seemed to ponder that for a moment then nodded. Cas knew better than to ask what it was that brought them back. Though he didn't quite understand humans, he knew that Dean was a very private person and would not appreciate the prying.
"So they've time traveled? They're me and Sam from the past? Before Hell?" Dean asked, a slightly pained look in his eyes.
"Yes, I think so." Cas thought he might have heard Dean mutter 'awesome' sarcastically under his breath. He seemed tense for a second, then sighed.
"We should probably move them out of here. If they wake up in a cell, they're limely to lash out. This is going to be hard enough without anything else to add to it," Dean advised. Cas agreed. The two men walked forward, and got to work.