This fic has been living in my head for a little while. I've always wanted a fic where Dean tells one of his kids about how horrible of an upbringing he had. Then I reread Tidia's "Dimming of the Day" and knew how I wanted to go about it.

For those of you who haven't read the Legacy fics, J.T. is Dean's middle son (between Ben and James) and the future Guardian. Max is his best friend and future Knight. J.T.'s longterm girlfriend Sydney was killed in a school shooting while he was away on a photography trip and so he gave up the MLB and went into hunting full time. I highly recommend you read the source material tho :)

This is more brain rot than anything else. Hope you guys can at least find some enjoyment in it lol.

Warning: Kinda Anit-John

~TH~

J.T. was out of control. Other hunters were beginning to talk. It was something they could not afford.

Dean understood grief. He knew it could make you do crazy things. He'd heard the stories of his own Triad's escapades after his death. He knew what he had been willing to do after Sam's death. The mess they all were after dad. Sam's single mindedness after Jess. And he knew how John Winchester had reacted after the death of Mary. How it had never ended. Ruling his life for the next twenty years.

He also knew he would not let his son become like his namesake.

The crappy motel gave him an odd sense of nostalgia. He knew his son could afford better, but sometimes it was easier to avoid prying eyes when no one would blink at all of the dirt and the blood that was customary after a hunt. He was used to the dangers of hunting, but it was always different when it was his own kids. Max had kept him in the loop about his son. No major injuries, just stupid ones. Max had protected him.

He would make a good Knight. And J.T. would make a good Guardian. If he could move past his current tragedy to see that there was a future.

The door swung open and Dean looked up from his place at the small table. It took him back to the night that had started it all, when he and Caleb had informed his son of Sydney's death.

But this was different. This was private, personal. Father to son. Guardian to Guardian.

Max froze in the doorway, face blanching, shoulder rolling back into a firmer posture. As if shrugging on the personal of the protector he was destined to be, despite his own fear.

"What's wrong? What happened?"

"Max what- Dad? What happened?" J.T. echoed, pushing through the door.

"James is fine. So are your uncles." Both boys relaxed at the statement.

"Then what-"

Dean turned his attention away from his son. "Max, could you excuse us for a few hours."

There was a flash of something in the future Knight's eyes. A look that Dean had seen cross Caleb's face more times than he could count. He was afraid to leave J.T. alone with him. They both knew that Dean would never do anything to hurt his son, any of his sons. But Max had to have known that this, or something like this, was coming. Afterall, he was the one who kept in touch with the Triad. He would never report negatively on his friend, but it was hard not to read between the lines. Especially with the reports coming in from other hunters.

"Maxim."

He nodded, understanding that it was a Guardian's order, not a father's suggestion. Max swallowed hard,dropping the weapons on the floor near the closet, giving his friend a bolstering pat on the shoulder before leaving.

"Dad?" J.T. entered slowly, cautiously. Suspicion shining in his eyes.

"Sit down." Dean didn't know if it was a Guardian thing or a father thing, but there was a voice, a certain tone he'd learned, that emphasized there would be no room for argument Not angry, just firm. Even Caleb had learned to not cross him when he laid out an order in that tone.

J.T. did as he was asked, hesitantly sitting in the chair across from his father. His fingers tapped nervously on the table. "Is something wrong?"

"Sydney's been dead for six months."

The mask that slipped over his son was one that Dean had worn many times throughout his life. J.T.'s hands stilled, eyes hardening. "Is this about the Sox?" He sounded almost exasperated. "I thought we decided-"

"No. This is about you and hunting and your need for vengeance."

The exasperation was gone, replaced by harsh steel. "She was killed by a human. And he's dead."

"It doesn't matter. She's dead. And you're hoping to drown out that fact with blood."

J.T. clenched his jaw, a blaze of anger shining in his eyes. He had never been the one full of fire. That was Jimmy. But everything had changed when Sydney died. He barely knew his son anymore. "I need to know who I'm talking to."

It wasn't the first time he'd been asked such a question. It had never really come up with the previous Triad. They hadn't lived long enough for the lines to become blurred by adulthood. But now there came moments where they needed to know, was this their dad, or was this their Guardian?

"Both." It wasn't really a fair answer and they both knew it. But it was an honest one. A worried father and a concerned Guardian. Dean wasn't even sure which one he was at the moment.

"We both knew I'd give up baseball at some point. I could have played another contract but I was thinking about quitting even before…. Everything happened."

"I told you, this isn't about baseball."

"Then what? Photography? I told you I'm not in the mood to-"

"This is about you hunting non stop. About taking stupid risks. About nearly getting Max killed and refusing to take calls from your brother. It's about you forgetting to report in and ignoring the hunts Caleb sends you on in order to do what you want. And it's about dragging Max down with you." Dean understood. He'd dragged Caleb into messes he had no business trying to clean up. But they were past the luxury of boys being boys. They were talking about the lives of the future Triad. Dean and his Triad had been forced to overcome so much to earn the respect of the Brotherhood, he would not let his legacy be forced to do the same.

"I know what I'm doing."

"No. You don't."

"I'm not a kid."

"And I'm not treating you like one."

There was silence for a long moment.

"So what are you going to do?" J.T. sneered in a way that had every instinct in Dean wanting to retaliate. "Take my ring? You want to kick me out of the Brotherhood?"

"If I kicked every suicidal idiot with a private war out of the Brotherhood I'd be out of Hunters."

"Then what?"

"I'm going to tell you about your Grandfather."

"Mac? He's told us all his story. About how what he thought was his biggest loss became his biggest blessing. I'm not in the mood." The mocking tone caused Dean to take a slow breath before continuing.

"No, about another Jonathan Winchester."

"Grandpa John? I've heard all kinds of stories from Uncle Caleb." He frowned. "Not really sure how that's going to help me."

Dean pressed his lips together. "Your uncle… he wanted to preserve you and your brother's view of your grandpa, of the former Knight. He only told you the good parts."

"What do you mean? Grandpa was a hero, you always say so."

"Son, life isn't always about being a hero."

J.T. didn't seem to know how to answer that.

"What I tell you stays between us, you understand? There's no reason for your brothers to know. Not yet at least."

"Dad?"

"Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Now Dad was a great Knight. I don't want you to misunderstand me. He took care of Jim and Mac and served the Brotherhood best he could under the circumstances. But he was a horrible father."

J.T. frowned. "I know you guys had it rough growing up-"

"I'm not telling you any of this so that you can feel bad for me or your Uncle Sam. I have a point at the end of this."

The boy nodded.

"The first time Dad left me and Sam alone I was seven. We had a hotel room, Pastor Jim's number written on a piece of paper, and a box of cereal. He was gone two days." Dean got a small amount of satisfaction at the shocked look that appeared on his son's face. "It became a pattern. We were left alone with not enough food or money and told to figure things out ourselves. I got arrested at sixteen for stealing food and instead of dealing with it, he took Sam and ran."

"What?" Dean knew that this was not the grandfather the boys had been led to believe they had. Dean tried not to talk about him, afraid the bitterness might leak through. Caleb and Sam carried on the man's stories, telling only about the best of times, leaving the worst of times buried in the past.

"He came back for me after a few months."

"Months?"

"He had hunts he needed to take care of. And I screwed up."

"It doesn't matter. You would never leave us like that. No matter what we did."

A small amount of relief flooded through him. He knew that. And he was glad that his kids did too.

"Your grandpa also drank. A lot. And he could get mean."

J.T.s face paled. They all drank. It as a Winchester family trait. And even Damien, light weight that he was, could hold how own. But not like Dad. He knew what was coming before his son even asked. "Did he ever-"

Dean hadn't intended on getting into that point. He didn't like talking about it. Caleb and Sam only knew bits and pieces and he wanted it to stay that way. The past could stay there. But if it helped drive home his point, it would be worth it. "Sometimes. Not often. Only if he was really angry, really drunk, or really scared."

"Uncle Sam said that Grandpa loved you, that everything he did was to keep you safe."

Dean smiled slightly, glad J.T. was already heading in the right direction. "And he did. He loved us a lot. And it destroyed him. Destroyed me. His love had me a single parent at four, a trained hunter at ten. He had me dropout of highschool so that I could hunt full time. He disowned your Uncle Sam when he decided he wanted to go to college. Left me in the hospital after nearly dying more than once. All in the name of love."

"I don't understand."

"Love sent me to Hell."

J.T.'s eyes widened. Dean didn't talk about Hell. His boys knew to some degree that their dad had gone to Hell during the war, but most of that information had been in pieces and from someone else. Dean didn't talk about it because he couldn't. He could barely talk to Caleb about it. He wasn't even sure how much Juliet knew about his time six feet under.

"Your Uncle Sam died. I made a deal."

"What?"

"Just like Dad did for me?"

"Wait… Grandpa John's in-"

"No. It's… complicated. But he went for me. I went for Sam. Do you see the problem here?"

"Why are you telling me all this? What does this have to do with-?

"Because he thought he did everything for love. But he didn't."

"But you just said-"

"He did it all out of fear. Out of anger. He loved us. But that's not what ruled him. He was ruled by fear. By a need for vengeance."

"I still don't understand what this has to do with me."

"You have to make sure love is what rules your decisions."

"They do." he insisted.

"Love for who?"

His eyes darkened. "You know who."

"And that's what ruled your grandfather. His love for his dead you know he didn't even wear a ring? He wore it on a chain because the only thing he was loyal to was Mom. Not me. Not Sam. Not the Brotherhood. Mom. And it led him to his death and the near destruction of his Triad and mine too."

"I still don't see how this applies to me. Grandma Mary was killed by a demon. Syd- she was killed by a human."

"The Triad has to be controlled by love. By complete unity. If one of its members goes AWOL on a vengeance streak it will destroy everything you care about."

"I'm not a father. And I'm not part of the Triad."

"And if you continue down the path you're currently on, you never will be."

That belaid some of the passion. "Dad-"

"I can't stop you from making the same mistakes Dad made, the same mistakes I made. But I can tell you to get your act together. Call your brother. Check in with me and Caleb. Come home for a weekend so your mother can stop worrying. Give Max a break from protection duties. He's got a lifetime of that to go."

"She's gone Dad."

"I know."

"I was going to marry her."

"I know."

"Hunting is the only outlet I have left."

Dean reached across the table, grasping his son's wrist. "It can't be. I lived that life. It doesn't end well."

"You ended up as the Guardian."

"That was a happy ending to a really depressing story."

"But Dad, I can't. I don't want to play baseball. And everytime I look at my camera I see-" He trailed off, breaking eye contact. J.T. had been on a photography trip when Sydney had been killed. He understood the association.

"Then find something new."

"But I don't want to. I want to hunt. It helps."

"Sam and Caleb nearly destroyed their ties to the Brotherhood when I died. They thought it would help too. And that was only four months."

"This is different."

"And if it's not?"

The silence stretched out, between them before J.T. finally sighed. "Mom's really upset?"

"This is just the Guardian speech, wait until your dad get's to start talking."

His lips turned up at that. "I guess I could come home for a couple of days. Maybe… maybe Jimmy could come too?"

"Why don't you call him and see if he can make it." Dean had no doubt that James would drop everything if it meant spending a few days with his older brother.

"Yeah… But Dad I haven't given myself time to… to think. I thought if I just kept moving-"

"If you just keep moving, if you just keep your mind occupied, then you'll be fine. But it doesn't work. If you don't process your loss it will turn into a lifelong quest to fill that empty spot in your soul." He paused, he had been debating the next step. J.T. was destined to be the Guardian. It wasn't something he chose. It wasn't something he was even sure that he wanted. But now there were… murmurings against it. Concern for the current path the future Guardian was on. He wondered if Jim had heard the same whispers when Sam went away to Stanford. What he would have heard when Dean went to Hell. But this conversation reassured him that his son was still in there. He was hurting, and struggling, but still there. And Guardian or not, that was enough. "Here." He pulled out the leather bound notebook that had stayed with him throughout some of the worst times of his life.

"This is your journal."

"It is."

"Why? Is everything okay? Are you-"

Dean understood the fear. He remembered how he felt when Caleb had given Sam his journal. When Dad had left behind his. The sign of an end. But this wasn't that. This was just a hope for the future.

"I'm fine, J. But I want you to read it. Try to understand it. But don't share it with the others. Not yet." There were things only the Guardian should know.

"What if it never gets better?"

"Then you'll learn to live with it."

"I'm so angry, Dad."

Dean thought for a moment. "I don't regret trading my life for Sam. But I wouldn't do it again." It was something that had taken him time grappling with. But the day J.T. was born all of his priorities had changed.

"What?"

"I wouldn't do that to you. But I also wouldn't do that to Caleb. To Sam. I wouldn't make them go through that. Not again. And despite everything, I miss your grandpa. I miss Pastor Jim. But sometimes… sometimes loving someone means moving on for them. Sometimes it means remembering those around you."

"Are you saying I'm being selfish? My girlfriend just died!"

"Being selfish isn't a luxury you can afford. And I think you know that." It wasn't fair. But it was true.

"Did you know?"

"Know what?"

"When you made the deal for Uncle Sam, did you know you were the Guardian?"

Dean licked his lips. "I had a pretty good idea."

"But you did it anyway."

"You want the truth, kid? I didn't think anyone would care."

"How could you think that? Uncle Caleb freaks out if you get a papercut!"

Dean smirked, patting the book. "I wasn't exactly what you'd call stable. But it's all in there. You'll get the gist of what went down. And if you still have questions, ask your Uncles about revenge and how well that worked out for them."

"Why did they get to go off the rails but I can't?" There was the smallest bit of humor in his son's voice.

"Because the Guardian is the heart of the Triad. The only person who could pull my Dad back from the brink was Jim. If he had ever lost sight of the Triad, of the Brotherhood, of himself, none of us would be here."

"It's not fair." J.T. echoed the sentiment Dean had just been thinking about.

"Destiny rarely is kiddo."

"I'll take a break from hunting."

"Tell Max he can take a breather too. I'm sure he needs it."

J.T. nodded. "You're not sticking around?"

"I'll see you soon, right?"

He nodded again. "You know this doesn't fix everything, right?"

Dean sighed, "I don't expect it to J.T. You're human. You're allowed to grieve. I just- I need you to come to us before you make a mess of your life. Before you turn into another John Winchester whose only thought is the next hunt. Who's ruled by fear and anger instead of love. Your grandfather was a great hunter, but he wasn't a good father. You don't have to be perfect, son. I just want you to be good."

J.T. nodded solemnly, his hand resting on the Guardian's journal.

"Now, call your brother. And it wouldn't hurt to call your mother too."

"I will, Dad."

"Good. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got important Guardian business to attend to."

J.T. grinned, "You drove here didn't you."

"I love ya kid, but unless you're actively dying I'll stick to the road."

The smile fell. "Thanks dad."

"Anytime kiddo. I'll see you in a few days."

Dean didn't know how much affect his words would have. He didn't know if he had made any sense at all. He only hoped his son realized that the Brotherhood needed him to keep his head on straight. That the Guardian had to keep his heart in the game even if his head was miles away. And that even more important than the Guardian, the future Triad, or the Brotherhood, his Dad needed him to be okay. And he would do anything he could to make his son a better man than of the generations before him.

~TH~

So that was that!
My first of many random one-shots I hope to post this year. We'll see where things go from here. I don't have any real plans for the Legacy but I do love J.T. lol. I'll probably continue in the normal Brotherhood.
I still plan to write episodes into canon and such.
Thanks for reading!
Please let me know what you thought!
Much love and God bless,
Jamie