John Winchester is Back

We moved in silence further into the house, nothing but our flashlights as light. "How'd that happen?" I muttered, seeing the huge hole in the roof.

"Whatever attacked him, it looks like there was more than one." Sam commented.

"Looks like he put up a hell of a fight too." Dean said, considering this room was as trashed as all the others. I glanced out the window, I could have sworn I saw a shadow of someone standing in the shadows of the tree line. But just as soon as I saw it was it gone so I assumed it was just a figment of my imagination going crazy after living the job we do, paranoia and all.

Dean crouched to the floor, looking at something embedded in the wood. "You got something?" Sam asked, joining him.

"Something that will actually prove what we're dealing with?" I grumbled, joining them by sitting on the floor next to Dean, shining my flashlight at whatever had caught his fancy.

"Some scratching on the floor." Dean muttered, running his finger over them. They didn't look so special to me but then again, you never know what may be important for later on.

"Death throes maybe?" Sam suggested.

"One way to find out." I said, grabbing a blank sheet of paper. Dean took it from me and rubbed the scratching into the paper with a pencil so we had a better view of it.

"Or maybe a message." Dean suggested, pulling up the paper. "Look familiar?"

I shrugged after a moment, "Not a clue."

But Sam took the paper. "Three letters, six digits. The location and combination of a post office box. It's a mail drop."

"Just the way dad does it." Dean muttered.

I stood up, "Then let's go find it."

It was late at night and we were in the impala after having just broken in the post office to steal the box. It wasn't to hard considering the only guy working was fast asleep at his desk. Dean and Sam had the box between them while I leaned over the bench seat from my spot in the back to watch Dean open it. He pulled out a single letter, showing us the initials JW written on the front. There was only one person in all the world I could think of with those initials. Sam was the first to speak after staring at the letter for several long seconds, "You think...John Winchester?"

"I don't know." Dean said, not taking his eyes off the letter. "...Should we open it?"

I leaned closer, "I say we go for it. Not like the man is here to open it instead." Then there was a knock on Dean's window. All three of us violently jumped, the boys gasping with Dean raising a defensive fist and I giving a short high pitched scream in my surprise.

Speak of the devil, John Winchester was standing outside the window. "Dad?" Dean asked confused.

John climbed into the back seat where I slid aside, a hand on my racing heart. "Trying to give us all a heart attack!" I should hit him.

Dad gave a little awkward half smile before turning to his boys. "Dad, what are you doing here? Are you alright?" Sam fired off.

"Yeah, I'm ok." John grumbled, tugging at his long leather coat around him. "I read the news about Daniel, I got here as fast as I could." He glanced over at me again and I scowled, turning away. I don't think I could ever forgive him for what he did to me. "I saw you three at his place."

"Why didn't you come in, dad?" Sam asked softly.

"Instead of planning on scaring the crap out of all of us." I muttered.

But John ignored, "You know why." He said instead. "Because I had to make sure you weren't followed, by anyone or anything." But apparently we had been followed, by a man named John Winchester. "Nice job of covering your tracks by the way."

Dean puffed himself up proudly. "We learned from the best."

"Some of us learned by experience alone." I muttered, leaning my chin on the palm of my hand. Dad winched, once again feeling guilty in the presence of his only daughter.

"Wait," Sam suddenly turned around in his seat. "You came all the way out here for this Elkins guy?"

"He was...he was a good man." Dad explained. "He taught me a hell of a lot about hunting." Funny since there was only a brief mention of him in the journal.

"Well you never mentioned him to us." Sam said confused.

I tugged on my hair. "So what exactly happened between you and this Elkins guy?"

"We had a...we had kind of a falling out." John admitted. That honestly didn't surprise me one bit, dad seemed to have that effect on people. "I haven't seen him in years." John took the letter from Dean. "I should look at that." He paused to pull open the letter, tugging it out. 'If you're reading this, I'm already dead" he paused to read ahead, "...that son of a bitch." I straightened up, what was so surprising in that letter, now I was just plain curious.

"What is it?" Dean asked, looking over the seat.

John ignored him. "He had it the whole time."

"He had what?" I demanded, unable to take the suspense much longer.

John's focus was on something else though. "When you searched the place, did you, did you see a gun?" What the hell did he need a gun for? We had like ten different kinds in the trunk. "An antique, a colt revolver, did you see it?" That was pretty specific for just any old gun like any other in the world, what made this one special?

"There was an old case but it was empty." Dean explained.

"They have it?" John muttered.

"Have what? A gun?" I asked. But John didn't answer, to caught up with his thoughts.