![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
phantismaFandom: Supernatural
Title: What Matters Most (Sequel to The Kid and The Calling)
Characters/Pairings: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, John Winchester, Jim Murphy
Ratings: PG-13
Word Count:5266
Summary: In "The Calling" Sam was called away by angels to take up his destiny, leaving behind everything he knew and everyone he loved. In the time he's been gone, things have changed...but what matter most never will.
A/Ns & Warnings: In the original story, John Winchester was de-aged. He's a fifteen year old kid in this story. No real warnings.
Something wasn’t right. He couldn’t tell what it was, but it pulled him up out of a sound sleep, left him starring into the dark around him as if he could will the answer to be visible. His eyes skipped around the room, coming to rest on the picture of him and Sam.
John slipped out of bed, crossing the floor slowly. He half expected something to come out of the shadows at him. Outside the window he got the vague impression that something was moving his way, almost as if it was honing in on him.
He shook his head and slipped out the bedroom door, stopping in the door of his old room that had been converted into a nursery almost four years before. Samantha was asleep in the twin bed nearest the door, her tiny body curled around Mr. Turtle.
Thomas wasn’t sleeping though, his eyes finding John as he moved into the room. At six months old, Thomas was already showing signs that he was going to have gifts like Sam had, like John had. John reached into the crib, his hand on the baby’s belly. “You feel it too, Tommy?”
There was a sense of déjà vu, an immense feeling that he had done this before…stood over a crib, smiled down at a baby boy…but when he turned his head to try to grab the memory, it slipped away. John inhaled and turned to check the window. The iron bar was in place and he could feel the sigil on the glass, even if he couldn’t see it.
Satisfied that the kids were okay, John headed downstairs. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was coming. Something big was coming. He moved quietly through the house, checking the windows and doors, and stopped at the front door.
He was flushed and almost felt feverish as his hand rested on the door handle. His heart raced as he pulled the door open, stepping slowly out onto the porch. It was coming fast, the dark clouds swirling in the early morning sky, daylight breaking through on the horizon, only it was two in the morning so that light that was coming at him wasn’t the sun.
John took a step back as it intensified and grew and suddenly there were shapes in the light…shapes that looked like people. He backed into the door, eyes wide as the shapes became more defined and a hand reached out to him.
Thunder cracked, shaking the house and the light vanished. In its absence the dark was more defined, all but Sam, who seemed to glow as he fell to his knees in front of John, his hand reaching and finally connecting with John’s.
Then the world tilted and John slid down the door, feeling like he was falling, falling……
Dean paced from the bed to the door and back again, not sure which room he was needed most in. He pulled a hand through his hair and stopped at the end of the bed.
Sam lay unconscious amid the tubes and machines, his face serene, his hair long and a good week’s growth of facial hair covering his skin. Down the hall, John was also unconscious, though the doctors couldn’t find anything wrong with him.
Dean went back to pacing. It had been four years. Almost to the day. Four years since Sam just…disappeared, leaving him with a baby on the way and John just starting puberty and no way of knowing exactly where Sam had gone.
All he had was a note John gave him, some rambling bull shit about duty and God and everything being okay. And now…now Sam shows up in the middle of the night, with no warning, no explanation….just suddenly there and unconscious and Dean wanted to throttle him and hug him and make him explain everything….but mostly he just wanted his brother to wake up.
That didn’t seem to be happening any time soon, so Dean huffed and left Sam, and stalked down the hall to the room where John was, surprised to see John’s eyes open as he came into the room. “John?”
His eyes narrowed, looking at Dean, then around the room, then back at Dean. “Dean?”
Dean stopped not quite to the bed. John looked confused. It had been a long time since he’d called him Dean. “You okay?”
“I don’t know. What happened?”
“Not sure. There was a big thunder clap and I came downstairs to find you and Sam unconscious on the porch.”
“Sam….” John pinched his nose. “Is he okay?”
“Doctor’s aren’t sure.” Dean snagged a chair and pulled it closer.
“I don’t understand.” John’s eyes met his and somehow Dean got the impression that the man looking out of those eyes was not the boy he’d been raising for the past ten years.
“Dad?” Dean whispered the word, sure it couldn’t be. Ten years and there had only been glimmers of the man John had been before, vague and gone quickly. This was something else.
“What happened to Sam?”
Dean licked his lips and exhaled slowly. “Okay, we’ll get to that. First, I need you to tell me what is the last thing you remember?”
John frowned at him and there was so much of his father in that fifteen year old face it nearly took Dean’s breath away. “I came home. Checked on you boys. Went to bed.”
Dean stood, wiping his mouth as he tried to figure out how to tell his father that had been ten years before or that those ten years had been spent with John as a child. “Okay, I need you to stay calm. You’re missing some time there, Dad.”
“How much time?”
Dean shook his head.
“Daddy!” Samantha came running at him from the hallway and he caught her, picking her up and moving back into the hallway. Sarah smiled, cradling Thomas to her as she leaned in to kiss his cheek.
“How are our boys?”
Dean glanced back at John who was starting to look angry. “I don’t know. John seems to have some memory issues. Sam isn’t awake yet.” He stepped them back away from the door.
“I called Smitty, told him you wouldn’t be coming in. And I can get Laura to take the kids if you need me here.”
Dean smiled at her. “I don’t know how I got so lucky to have a woman like you.” He kissed her lightly. “This is just going to be a lot of waiting around. Go ahead and go to work. I’ll call you when I have news.”
“If you’re sure…”
“I am. Go on.” He kissed Samantha’s cheek before putting her down. “You go with Mommy. I’ll see you later.”
“Give Johnny kisses for me.”
He watched them go before turning back to the room. John wasn’t in the bed. Dean came into the room slowly. “Dad?”
The bathroom door opened and John’s face was pale. “What the fuck is going on?”
“Okay, okay, calm down.” Dean said. “Just…I can explain. Sort of.”
“You better start.”
Dean nodded and closed the door to the room. “Okay, look. Ten years ago, Sam and I got up to go to school and you were…a kid.”
That at least stopped John, made him frown and turn away, moving back to the bed. “A what?”
“You were…you. Just…not quite five year old you.” Dean said. “You were afraid and so small. It took us a while to figure out what happened, and even then we weren’t sure.”
“What was it?” John asked, sitting slowly.
“Well, near as we can tell it was a wisch.” Dean came back to the chair and sat. “A sort of fairy, it grants a wish, then dies.”
“You’re telling me I wished to be five again?”
Dean sort of shrugged and exhaled. “Bobby said they aren’t exactly discerning about what wish they grant. You could have just had a passing thought and that’s what it caught on. We don’t know.”
“So…what….you just…”
“Just nothing.” Dean said sitting back. “The first few years were hard. I won’t lie. But you didn’t remember anything beyond being five and there was no going back. Bobby got a friend to fake up papers making you my son.”
“And you raised me?”
Dean nodded. “You’ve been my son for ten years. You turned 15 not too long ago.”
“And Sam?”
“That’s a more complicated story.” Dean offered with a sigh. “He disappeared four years ago, right after I found out Sarah was pregnant. Last night….he just appeared on the front porch. I’m guessing that has something to do with your memory reset.”
“Disappeared?” John frowned at the floor, then looked up. “Wait, are you telling me I’m a grandfather?”
Dean smiled and nodded. “Yes, to a beautiful girl named Samantha who is three and a half and a six month old boy named Thomas.”
“And I’m fifteen.” John dragged his hand over his face. “I think I need a drink.”
The door opened and a doctor came in, smiling at them. “Good, you’re awake. How are you feeling?”
“A little confused.” John replied, looking at Dean, then back at the doctor.
“Well, I suppose that’s normal after what you’ve been through.” The doctor turned to Dean. “All of his tests have come back clean. Now that he’s awake, we can test his reflexes and responses, but I’m pretty sure he can go home.”
“And Sam?”
The doctor’s face tightened up a little. “Your brother’s test results are…unclear. We’re hoping he’ll wake up soon, but we just don’t know.”
“Great.” Dean huffed. “Just great.”
“Dinner’s ready.”
John looked up at Sarah in the doorway of his bedroom, blinking. Everything felt so wrong, so…unreal. “Yeah, okay. I’ll be down.”
She crossed her arms and looked at him. “You okay?”
He forced himself to smile and nod at the woman his son had married. “Yeah. Just…feel kind of off.”
“Your dad’s worried about you, you know?”
Dad. By which she meant Dean. He nodded. “I know.”
She came to sit beside him on the bed. “You’re something special, John. You and Sam, you mean the world to him.”
John knew that. He’d been back from the hospital for two days, trying to figure out this life he found himself in, learning what Dean had gone through. Sam was still in a coma, with no clear indication of what was wrong.
“Come eat dinner.” She patted his knee and stood.
Dean had tried to help, filling in the story as much as he could between work and taking care of the kids and keeping an eye on Sam. At least it was summer, so he didn’t have to think about school. He snorted as he stood to follow Sarah. The last time he’d been fifteen he hadn’t gotten much out of school.
He’d been rough and ready to run, focused more on survival than on his education. He had a plan. It mostly involved being home as little as possible and getting out as soon as he could.
John walked into the kitchen as Sarah put a plate of burgers on the table. Dean looked at him, checking in, making sure he was okay. John nodded and sat, reaching for a burger.
“So, John…I was thinking you’d like to go up to see Sam with me after dinner.” Dean said as he filled his plate.
“Yeah?”
Dean glanced at Sarah who was helping Samantha with her food, then nodded. “Yeah, Pastor Jim said he’d stop by.”
John nodded. Jim Murphy was a good man, had come through for his boys when John couldn’t. “I’d like that.”
Dinner was quiet, John keeping his attention on his plate while Sarah and Dean talked about the kids and schedules and family stuff. He excused himself when he’d eaten enough that Sarah wouldn’t bug him about it and let himself out on the front porch.
The neighborhood was quiet. He tried to imagine himself as a child here, riding a bike down the street.
“Hey John, you coming?”
He looked up. Three boys were walking down the street, stopping at the end of his driveway. Dean appeared beside him, waving to the boys. “John can’t come tonight, guys. Sorry.”
“Friends of mine?” John asked as the boys continued on their way.
“The kid in the hat is Mike, he’s your best friend. Lives three houses down and across the street. The other two are Will and Wayne. The four of you have a standing Thursday night at Larry’s house at the end of the block in the summer.”
John nodded. He wouldn’t remember, but it was good information for if he was stuck this way.
“You okay?” Dean asked beside him, his eyes scanning the street before he turned to John.
“I…don’t know.”
Dean smiled and nodded. “Good enough I guess. This can’t be easy for you. I’m…struggling a bit myself.”
John squinted at him. Of course, it had to be hard on Dean too. For ten years he’d been the father, raising first Sam and him, now two kids of his own…and suddenly, John was back. Even if he was stuck in a teenage body.
“For what it’s worth,” Dean said as they headed for the car, “it’s been a good ten years. I’d like to think you’ve been happy.” He started the engine and sighed. “I mean, the first few weren’t great. I had no idea what I was doing. But I got the impression I was better than…your first time around.”
They were part way to the hospital before John found words. He’d never really spoken about him, the man who raised him. “He wasn’t my father.” John said as Dean turned a corner. “My father disappeared when I was…very young. My mother married him after.”
“And he thanked her for that by killing her and beating the shit out of you? No offense, Dad, but fuck him.”
John couldn’t help but smile. “Wow, Son.”
“Sorry. Ain’t no man that hits a kid.” Dean pulled into the parking lot. “You had it good with us, Dad. Maybe we didn’t have all the money in the world, but we had each other.”
He opened his door, but John sat for a minute, staring up at the hospital. Something seemed….off about it. He squinted, but couldn’t place what it was. “You coming?”
John nodded and climbed out of the car he wasn’t even old enough to drive, following Dean inside. The odd feeling persisted, even as they stopped outside Sam’s room. “I’m going to see if I can find his doctor. Wait here.” Dean headed down the hall, leaving John standing in the doorway.
Even from there he could sense Sam wasn’t alone in the room. He took a hesitant step in, his eyes sweeping the room. “ Is someone there?”
He shook his head and moved closer to the bed, startled somewhat by Sam’s appearance. He was thin, but gone was the gawky teenager he’d been when John last saw him. His face was covered in facial hair and there were worry lines around his eyes.
A fluttering sound made him turn, but again, he saw no one. He huffed and pulled the stool closer to the bed, sitting beside Sam. The machines that surrounded him kept track of his heart and his breathing, but they weren’t keeping him alive. No, Sam was doing that on his own.
John wasn’t sure how he knew, he just did. Whatever was wrong with Sam, it wasn’t something medicine was going to fix.
“You should be proud of him.”
John stood, turned, his eyes taking in the rumpled over coat and crooked tie. “Who are you?”
The man frowned, stepping closer. John took a step back, up against the bed. “Do you not remember be, John Winchester?”
“Back off, wingboy.” Dean said darkly from the door.
“Wingboy?” John shook his head, looking to Dean for an explanation.
“This here is Castiel, Dad. He’s the reason Sam’s been missing for four years.”
“Your brother was called to—“
“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Blah, blah, divine duty, blah, blah, blah.” Dean pushed him aside. “And now Sam lies here like a pumpkin and Dad’s back to being Dad, and once again our whole lives get turn upside down because you dicks can’t seem to manage your own damn messes.”
“What do you mean?” Castiel asked, his face concerned as he moved still closer.
“Back off.” Dean growled.
“Dean, explain?” John said, moving up the bed to get away from the hand the man was reaching for him.
Dean stepped between them, intercepting Castiel. “Enough. You’ve fucked with this family enough.”
“Stop.” Sam was suddenly sitting up, his hand grabbing John’s arm.
“Samuel, you should not be awake.”
“I know.” His eyes skipped over Dean and John and back to Castiel. “Leave.”
“I can not.”
“Okay, at least go invisible for a bit. I need to talk to them.”
Sam sank back against the bed and Castiel seemed to vanish. “What the fuck is going on?” John asked after a moment of silence.
“Angels.” Sam gasped out, his eyes closing for a minute. When they reopened, John could see the strain in them, the fight it was taking to stay awake. “Can’t stay long. Won’t remember this when I wake up again.” He licked his lips. “Sorry, took longer than I wanted. Didn’t mean to be gone so long.”
“Shh, Sam. You need to rest. “ John said, reaching for him, brushing a hand over his forehead.
His eyes suddenly opened wide. “Dad?” He pushed himself up again. “Did I….when I fell…did I do that?”
“Don’t worry about it, Sammy.” Dean said, sitting on the bed beside him. “He’s adjusting. You sleep as long as you need to, we’ll be here.”
Sam shook his head. “I can…I can fix it. Put it back like it was. If you want…”
He was looking up at John, but fading quickly. His hand brushed over John’s and his eyes closed. John leaned in to kiss his forehead. “Sleep, Sammy.”
There was a knock on the door and John turned, then staggered as the world shifted. Dean caught him, eased him down into a chair as Jim Murphy came into the room. “You okay?”
Strange images swirled around his head, making him shake his head. Memories of a life he didn’t live…or maybe one he did, mixing and twisting together….Dean helping him ride a bike, Sam showing him how to make macaroni and cheese, a baby in a crib, a dismal landscape filled with dead bodies, demons and Sam and hunting with Bobby for a werewolf south of Boise, teaching Dean how to shoot a shotgun….He bowed forward as the images shot through him in rapid succession, gasping for air as the deluge finally slowed.
He looked up to find Dean and Jim both looking concerned. He nodded slowly. “I’m okay, I think.”
“You think?” Dean asked.
John nodded. “I’m not sure what day it is or if any of what I’m seeing in my head is real….but yeah, I’m okay.”
“What are you seeing?” Jim asked, his arms crossed.
John shook his head. “Memories maybe, though some of it feels like….it isn’t real.” He rubbed at his head. “Castiel…he’s…an angel?” John frowned. That couldn’t be right. “You…he helped Sam when his gifts were getting dangerous. You didn’t do the ritual.”
It’s okay, John. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to push the voice away. It was Sam…he was sure it was Sam, but Sam was unconscious. More memory bubbled to the surface, a ghost in a pool, a demon in a church, angels, dreams that came true. “I don’t…” He stood, stepping between Dean and Jim. “I need some air.”
He stormed through the hallway and out the nearest exit, wanting a cigarette and a bottle of whiskey. And yet, some part of him laughed at the idea. He wasn’t surprised that Jim followed him. “You know, I remember the first time we met. You chewed me out over the life I was giving my boys.”
Jim smiled. “I remember the last time we met, you wanted advice on how to tell Dean you wanted to join the Marines.”
John frowned, but the memory bubbled up and he could see the conversation. He shook his head. “I already did my share of that for one lifetime.” He sighed. “What was I thinking?”
Jim chuckled. “Well, in your own words, college isn’t for you, and you need to do something with your life.”
Images jumbled around his head, scenes from the war in Vietnam, from classes he took the first time around, classes he knew he didn’t take the first time around. “Who is Amanda?” John asked suddenly as a pretty face filled his mind.
Jim leaned back against the wall with a smirk. “Ah, yes. Young Amanda. She’s the one thing holding you back. You really like her.”
John could feel that. Her face stirred up all kinds of conflicting emotions. “This is fucking weird.” He rubbed at his head. “Sam, he…did something…”
Jim nodded. “I’m not surprised. As I’ve been given to understand, your son was called into service by God, John. That kind of thing leaves a man changed.”
John snorted. “I never believed in god and angels and all that crap.”
“Don’t need to believe in a thing for it to be real, John.” Jim said.
“Obviously.” Dean had tried to explain to him what had happened, but John hadn’t been fully sure he believed him. He still really wanted a drink and a cigarette. He looked up as a man pushed the doors to the hospital open. Something wasn’t right with him. He was filled with rage. “Demon.” John said, barely audibly.
Jim turned, murmuring , “Christo.”
The man growled and turned, his eyes filling with black. He shoved Jim away and came at John, but before he could react there was suddenly light pouring out of his eyes and mouth and in seconds, he fell to the ground. In his place, Castiel stood.
“Are you unharmed?”
“I’m fine.” John said, backing up another step. “What…what was that?”
“That was a demon.” Castiel said with a straight face. “You have encountered demons before, John.”
He shook his head. “No, I could see him.”
Castiel’s face showed confusion. “Yes, as you always have.”
“I’m pretty sure I would remember—“ Only he did. Flashes of faces, darkness, black inky darkness inside of men who looked normal to everyone else, then others who were filled with white light and….it was rapidly becoming too much.
“Samuel attempted to put right what went wrong.” Castiel said, reaching for John.
John pulled away. “You are not meant to remember both of your lives, John Winchester. It will drive you insane.”
“Everything seems pretty damn crazy already.”
Jim stepped forward when it seemed Castiel was determined to touch him. “What are you doing?”
“I will set it right.”
“Don’t you think John should have a say in that?”
Castiel frowned at him. “If he is left with both sets of memories, he will go insane and his gifts will become dangerous.”
“Can you just give him a minute?” Jim asked, stepping between John and the angel now. “He’s had a rough couple of days.
“What the hell is going on out here.” Dean suddenly demanded as he joined them.
“Samuel attempted to repair what was broken on the night he returned home. He was not strong enough. If he will stand still, I will finish the work.” Castiel said, reaching again for John.
Dean pulled John closer. “Just a minute.” He turned to look at John. “Are you okay?”
John shook his head. “I don’t know? I’m suddenly seeing demons and remembering things I shouldn’t and wow, he really is white…” His knees buckled and Dean eased him down.
Everything was swimming around him and he couldn’t make sense of what was real. He grabbed at Dean, trying to pull himself upright, but Castiel was too close. “No!” John pushed and to his surprise, Castiel actually stepped back. “Give me a fucking second.”
He pulled himself up, pushing at the chaos in his head. “Dean. I need to tell you something.”
“Dad, it’s okay.” Dean turned them so that he was between John and the angel.
“I didn’t get to tell you before.” He exhaled and held it, willing the swilling memories to settle. “I am so damn proud of you, Son. So proud. What you’ve done with what I left you…taking care of your brother, those beautiful kids…” He pulled Dean to him. “So fucking proud. I love you.”
Dean’s hands closed around him. “I love you too, Dad.”
He felt Dean’s nod, then a hand on his back, on his head, hot and pressing down. Something in his head popped and John’s body went limp in Dean’s arms, fire burning through his head until suddenly everything went dark.
“It’s been a hell of a week.” Jim said, handing Dean a beer.
“You could say that.” Dean agreed, his eyes skipping up to John’s bedroom door. He had been quiet since they’d come home from the hospital after the incident with Castiel. “I’m going to need to clean out the spare room.” Sam was still unconscious, nearly a week after he first showed up on their front porch.
“You know, if what Castiel was implying back there is true, Sam could be out for quite some time.” Jim said, sitting back on the couch.
“Yeah, I know. “ Dean took a long drink from his beer.
They were quiet for a long time. Jim finished his beer. “How’s John?”
Dean sighed and stood, leaving his beer on the coffee table. He rubbed his hands down his thighs, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. “How would you be? He knows that for two days he wasn’t him. He knows Sam did something that changed him and that Castiel did something to change him back, but he can’t remember anything past opening the front door and finding Sam.”
“And Sarah?”
That at least made Dean smile. “She’s been amazing. She’s down at her mother’s right now with the kids.” For the first five years after his father became his son, Dean had wished over and over for his father to come back to him, and then, for two days, John was his father again, even if he was still in a fifteen year old body.
“It was the right thing to do, right?” Dean asked for probably the fifth time since it happened.
“He couldn’t continue remembering both lives.” Jim responded.
“But, did we have the right to decide which one he got to keep?” Part of him was convinced it was the right thing. But there was a nagging part, the part that still wanted his father back, that wondered if maybe Castiel was wrong, if maybe John would have been better off as the man he was before.
“Can you imagine your father stuck inside a fifteen year old body?” Jim asked. “I think that would have been asking for trouble.”
“I know.” He squeezed the bridge of his nose.
“I should go. I still have a sermon to write.”
“Thanks again, for everything.”
“Anytime, Son. You know that.”
Dean walked him to the door, stepping out on the porch as Jim got into the church’s old station wagon. He waved as Jim pulled away, but before he could go back inside, a cab was pulling up out front. The back door opened and Sam staggered out.
“Sam?”
“Dean.”
Dean came off the porch, running to get an arm around his brother before he fell. “What are you doing?”
“Wanted to be home.” Sam said, leaning in to him.
“Hey, buddy. He said you’d pay me.”
“Yeah, okay, how much?”
“Thirty five dollars and forty five cents.”
Dean fished out his wallet and pulled out forty dollars, shoving it through the open window. “Keep the change.” He adjusted his grip on Sam and got them turned for the house. “Okay, let’s get you inside.”
Sam did his best to help, but his feet dragged and Dean had to haul him up the steps. He got them as far as the couch and eased Sam down to sitting. “Better.” Sam said, though he looked like he was going to pass out again. “Nurses were making me nuts.” He leaned back and closed his eyes and for a minute, Dean was sure he’d passed out again. Then, his eyes opened and he looked up at Dean. “John, is John okay?”
Dean nodded and came to perch on the coffee table. “Sam, he’s fine. But you…you belong in that hospital.”
Sam didn’t move, but Dean still got the impression that he was shaking his head. “They can’t do anything for me. Just need rest. I can rest here.”
“Samuel.”
Sam sighed and closed his eyes again as the angel appeared beside Dean. “Holy fucking hell, would you stop doing that?” Dean growled.
“Castiel, I told you, I’m fine. Go away.” Sam sighed. “I’m not going to hide away in some sacred whatever with you. I’ll do my recovering here.”
“I can not protect you adequately here.”
“Dean can protect me.” Sam argued. “Dean and John. Family.”
“Damn straight.” Dean agreed.
“I’m going to pass out now.” Sam said suddenly, his eyes closing.
“He should not have come here.” Castiel said.
Dean stood and turned to him. “Well, he’s here now and you heard him, here is where he wants to be, so you can just fuck off.”
“He is my responsibility, Dean. It is my honor to protect him as he recovers from his duty.”
“Yeah, well. Protect him all you want, but he stays here.”
“There is a place prepared—“
“I don’t care. We’ll make a place here. I was going to start making the spare bedroom up for Samantha, but we can set it up for Sam.” Dean turned to point to the room, stopping as he saw John on the stairs.
“I…felt him.”
“He’s okay.” Dean comforted.
John nodded, his eyes slightly glazed over. “Yeah, he is. Annoyed with junkless here, but okay.” His eyes snapped to Castiel. “He stays. Dad and I will look after him.”
“Demons will try to come for him while he is weak.”
John sort of smirked. “Let them. Dad and I know how to handle demons.”
For a long time John and the angel stared at one another, and it was Castiel that finally looked away. “Very well, show me this room of yours. I will do as I can to fortify it.”
John grinned. “Now we’re talking. I’ve got a few ideas too. I’ve been doing some research.” He led the way down the hall to the last room of the house they hadn’t fully taken over. The last remnants of their old lives lived in there, along with whatever was left of the things the old lady who had lived in the place before them had left behind.
Dean laid Sam down on the couch, pulling the afghan Sarah’s mother had made off the chair to cover him with. She would be home soon with the kids. His whole family under one roof.
It felt good. Right.
And yeah, maybe it wasn’t exactly what he thought his life would be…And maybe his brother had just been a vessel for God and maybe his father was still his son…but they were all together, and in the end, that was what mattered most.
Title: What Matters Most (Sequel to The Kid and The Calling)
Characters/Pairings: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, John Winchester, Jim Murphy
Ratings: PG-13
Word Count:5266
Summary: In "The Calling" Sam was called away by angels to take up his destiny, leaving behind everything he knew and everyone he loved. In the time he's been gone, things have changed...but what matter most never will.
A/Ns & Warnings: In the original story, John Winchester was de-aged. He's a fifteen year old kid in this story. No real warnings.
Something wasn’t right. He couldn’t tell what it was, but it pulled him up out of a sound sleep, left him starring into the dark around him as if he could will the answer to be visible. His eyes skipped around the room, coming to rest on the picture of him and Sam.
John slipped out of bed, crossing the floor slowly. He half expected something to come out of the shadows at him. Outside the window he got the vague impression that something was moving his way, almost as if it was honing in on him.
He shook his head and slipped out the bedroom door, stopping in the door of his old room that had been converted into a nursery almost four years before. Samantha was asleep in the twin bed nearest the door, her tiny body curled around Mr. Turtle.
Thomas wasn’t sleeping though, his eyes finding John as he moved into the room. At six months old, Thomas was already showing signs that he was going to have gifts like Sam had, like John had. John reached into the crib, his hand on the baby’s belly. “You feel it too, Tommy?”
There was a sense of déjà vu, an immense feeling that he had done this before…stood over a crib, smiled down at a baby boy…but when he turned his head to try to grab the memory, it slipped away. John inhaled and turned to check the window. The iron bar was in place and he could feel the sigil on the glass, even if he couldn’t see it.
Satisfied that the kids were okay, John headed downstairs. He couldn’t shake the feeling that something was coming. Something big was coming. He moved quietly through the house, checking the windows and doors, and stopped at the front door.
He was flushed and almost felt feverish as his hand rested on the door handle. His heart raced as he pulled the door open, stepping slowly out onto the porch. It was coming fast, the dark clouds swirling in the early morning sky, daylight breaking through on the horizon, only it was two in the morning so that light that was coming at him wasn’t the sun.
John took a step back as it intensified and grew and suddenly there were shapes in the light…shapes that looked like people. He backed into the door, eyes wide as the shapes became more defined and a hand reached out to him.
Thunder cracked, shaking the house and the light vanished. In its absence the dark was more defined, all but Sam, who seemed to glow as he fell to his knees in front of John, his hand reaching and finally connecting with John’s.
Then the world tilted and John slid down the door, feeling like he was falling, falling……
Dean paced from the bed to the door and back again, not sure which room he was needed most in. He pulled a hand through his hair and stopped at the end of the bed.
Sam lay unconscious amid the tubes and machines, his face serene, his hair long and a good week’s growth of facial hair covering his skin. Down the hall, John was also unconscious, though the doctors couldn’t find anything wrong with him.
Dean went back to pacing. It had been four years. Almost to the day. Four years since Sam just…disappeared, leaving him with a baby on the way and John just starting puberty and no way of knowing exactly where Sam had gone.
All he had was a note John gave him, some rambling bull shit about duty and God and everything being okay. And now…now Sam shows up in the middle of the night, with no warning, no explanation….just suddenly there and unconscious and Dean wanted to throttle him and hug him and make him explain everything….but mostly he just wanted his brother to wake up.
That didn’t seem to be happening any time soon, so Dean huffed and left Sam, and stalked down the hall to the room where John was, surprised to see John’s eyes open as he came into the room. “John?”
His eyes narrowed, looking at Dean, then around the room, then back at Dean. “Dean?”
Dean stopped not quite to the bed. John looked confused. It had been a long time since he’d called him Dean. “You okay?”
“I don’t know. What happened?”
“Not sure. There was a big thunder clap and I came downstairs to find you and Sam unconscious on the porch.”
“Sam….” John pinched his nose. “Is he okay?”
“Doctor’s aren’t sure.” Dean snagged a chair and pulled it closer.
“I don’t understand.” John’s eyes met his and somehow Dean got the impression that the man looking out of those eyes was not the boy he’d been raising for the past ten years.
“Dad?” Dean whispered the word, sure it couldn’t be. Ten years and there had only been glimmers of the man John had been before, vague and gone quickly. This was something else.
“What happened to Sam?”
Dean licked his lips and exhaled slowly. “Okay, we’ll get to that. First, I need you to tell me what is the last thing you remember?”
John frowned at him and there was so much of his father in that fifteen year old face it nearly took Dean’s breath away. “I came home. Checked on you boys. Went to bed.”
Dean stood, wiping his mouth as he tried to figure out how to tell his father that had been ten years before or that those ten years had been spent with John as a child. “Okay, I need you to stay calm. You’re missing some time there, Dad.”
“How much time?”
Dean shook his head.
“Daddy!” Samantha came running at him from the hallway and he caught her, picking her up and moving back into the hallway. Sarah smiled, cradling Thomas to her as she leaned in to kiss his cheek.
“How are our boys?”
Dean glanced back at John who was starting to look angry. “I don’t know. John seems to have some memory issues. Sam isn’t awake yet.” He stepped them back away from the door.
“I called Smitty, told him you wouldn’t be coming in. And I can get Laura to take the kids if you need me here.”
Dean smiled at her. “I don’t know how I got so lucky to have a woman like you.” He kissed her lightly. “This is just going to be a lot of waiting around. Go ahead and go to work. I’ll call you when I have news.”
“If you’re sure…”
“I am. Go on.” He kissed Samantha’s cheek before putting her down. “You go with Mommy. I’ll see you later.”
“Give Johnny kisses for me.”
He watched them go before turning back to the room. John wasn’t in the bed. Dean came into the room slowly. “Dad?”
The bathroom door opened and John’s face was pale. “What the fuck is going on?”
“Okay, okay, calm down.” Dean said. “Just…I can explain. Sort of.”
“You better start.”
Dean nodded and closed the door to the room. “Okay, look. Ten years ago, Sam and I got up to go to school and you were…a kid.”
That at least stopped John, made him frown and turn away, moving back to the bed. “A what?”
“You were…you. Just…not quite five year old you.” Dean said. “You were afraid and so small. It took us a while to figure out what happened, and even then we weren’t sure.”
“What was it?” John asked, sitting slowly.
“Well, near as we can tell it was a wisch.” Dean came back to the chair and sat. “A sort of fairy, it grants a wish, then dies.”
“You’re telling me I wished to be five again?”
Dean sort of shrugged and exhaled. “Bobby said they aren’t exactly discerning about what wish they grant. You could have just had a passing thought and that’s what it caught on. We don’t know.”
“So…what….you just…”
“Just nothing.” Dean said sitting back. “The first few years were hard. I won’t lie. But you didn’t remember anything beyond being five and there was no going back. Bobby got a friend to fake up papers making you my son.”
“And you raised me?”
Dean nodded. “You’ve been my son for ten years. You turned 15 not too long ago.”
“And Sam?”
“That’s a more complicated story.” Dean offered with a sigh. “He disappeared four years ago, right after I found out Sarah was pregnant. Last night….he just appeared on the front porch. I’m guessing that has something to do with your memory reset.”
“Disappeared?” John frowned at the floor, then looked up. “Wait, are you telling me I’m a grandfather?”
Dean smiled and nodded. “Yes, to a beautiful girl named Samantha who is three and a half and a six month old boy named Thomas.”
“And I’m fifteen.” John dragged his hand over his face. “I think I need a drink.”
The door opened and a doctor came in, smiling at them. “Good, you’re awake. How are you feeling?”
“A little confused.” John replied, looking at Dean, then back at the doctor.
“Well, I suppose that’s normal after what you’ve been through.” The doctor turned to Dean. “All of his tests have come back clean. Now that he’s awake, we can test his reflexes and responses, but I’m pretty sure he can go home.”
“And Sam?”
The doctor’s face tightened up a little. “Your brother’s test results are…unclear. We’re hoping he’ll wake up soon, but we just don’t know.”
“Great.” Dean huffed. “Just great.”
“Dinner’s ready.”
John looked up at Sarah in the doorway of his bedroom, blinking. Everything felt so wrong, so…unreal. “Yeah, okay. I’ll be down.”
She crossed her arms and looked at him. “You okay?”
He forced himself to smile and nod at the woman his son had married. “Yeah. Just…feel kind of off.”
“Your dad’s worried about you, you know?”
Dad. By which she meant Dean. He nodded. “I know.”
She came to sit beside him on the bed. “You’re something special, John. You and Sam, you mean the world to him.”
John knew that. He’d been back from the hospital for two days, trying to figure out this life he found himself in, learning what Dean had gone through. Sam was still in a coma, with no clear indication of what was wrong.
“Come eat dinner.” She patted his knee and stood.
Dean had tried to help, filling in the story as much as he could between work and taking care of the kids and keeping an eye on Sam. At least it was summer, so he didn’t have to think about school. He snorted as he stood to follow Sarah. The last time he’d been fifteen he hadn’t gotten much out of school.
He’d been rough and ready to run, focused more on survival than on his education. He had a plan. It mostly involved being home as little as possible and getting out as soon as he could.
John walked into the kitchen as Sarah put a plate of burgers on the table. Dean looked at him, checking in, making sure he was okay. John nodded and sat, reaching for a burger.
“So, John…I was thinking you’d like to go up to see Sam with me after dinner.” Dean said as he filled his plate.
“Yeah?”
Dean glanced at Sarah who was helping Samantha with her food, then nodded. “Yeah, Pastor Jim said he’d stop by.”
John nodded. Jim Murphy was a good man, had come through for his boys when John couldn’t. “I’d like that.”
Dinner was quiet, John keeping his attention on his plate while Sarah and Dean talked about the kids and schedules and family stuff. He excused himself when he’d eaten enough that Sarah wouldn’t bug him about it and let himself out on the front porch.
The neighborhood was quiet. He tried to imagine himself as a child here, riding a bike down the street.
“Hey John, you coming?”
He looked up. Three boys were walking down the street, stopping at the end of his driveway. Dean appeared beside him, waving to the boys. “John can’t come tonight, guys. Sorry.”
“Friends of mine?” John asked as the boys continued on their way.
“The kid in the hat is Mike, he’s your best friend. Lives three houses down and across the street. The other two are Will and Wayne. The four of you have a standing Thursday night at Larry’s house at the end of the block in the summer.”
John nodded. He wouldn’t remember, but it was good information for if he was stuck this way.
“You okay?” Dean asked beside him, his eyes scanning the street before he turned to John.
“I…don’t know.”
Dean smiled and nodded. “Good enough I guess. This can’t be easy for you. I’m…struggling a bit myself.”
John squinted at him. Of course, it had to be hard on Dean too. For ten years he’d been the father, raising first Sam and him, now two kids of his own…and suddenly, John was back. Even if he was stuck in a teenage body.
“For what it’s worth,” Dean said as they headed for the car, “it’s been a good ten years. I’d like to think you’ve been happy.” He started the engine and sighed. “I mean, the first few weren’t great. I had no idea what I was doing. But I got the impression I was better than…your first time around.”
They were part way to the hospital before John found words. He’d never really spoken about him, the man who raised him. “He wasn’t my father.” John said as Dean turned a corner. “My father disappeared when I was…very young. My mother married him after.”
“And he thanked her for that by killing her and beating the shit out of you? No offense, Dad, but fuck him.”
John couldn’t help but smile. “Wow, Son.”
“Sorry. Ain’t no man that hits a kid.” Dean pulled into the parking lot. “You had it good with us, Dad. Maybe we didn’t have all the money in the world, but we had each other.”
He opened his door, but John sat for a minute, staring up at the hospital. Something seemed….off about it. He squinted, but couldn’t place what it was. “You coming?”
John nodded and climbed out of the car he wasn’t even old enough to drive, following Dean inside. The odd feeling persisted, even as they stopped outside Sam’s room. “I’m going to see if I can find his doctor. Wait here.” Dean headed down the hall, leaving John standing in the doorway.
Even from there he could sense Sam wasn’t alone in the room. He took a hesitant step in, his eyes sweeping the room. “ Is someone there?”
He shook his head and moved closer to the bed, startled somewhat by Sam’s appearance. He was thin, but gone was the gawky teenager he’d been when John last saw him. His face was covered in facial hair and there were worry lines around his eyes.
A fluttering sound made him turn, but again, he saw no one. He huffed and pulled the stool closer to the bed, sitting beside Sam. The machines that surrounded him kept track of his heart and his breathing, but they weren’t keeping him alive. No, Sam was doing that on his own.
John wasn’t sure how he knew, he just did. Whatever was wrong with Sam, it wasn’t something medicine was going to fix.
“You should be proud of him.”
John stood, turned, his eyes taking in the rumpled over coat and crooked tie. “Who are you?”
The man frowned, stepping closer. John took a step back, up against the bed. “Do you not remember be, John Winchester?”
“Back off, wingboy.” Dean said darkly from the door.
“Wingboy?” John shook his head, looking to Dean for an explanation.
“This here is Castiel, Dad. He’s the reason Sam’s been missing for four years.”
“Your brother was called to—“
“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Blah, blah, divine duty, blah, blah, blah.” Dean pushed him aside. “And now Sam lies here like a pumpkin and Dad’s back to being Dad, and once again our whole lives get turn upside down because you dicks can’t seem to manage your own damn messes.”
“What do you mean?” Castiel asked, his face concerned as he moved still closer.
“Back off.” Dean growled.
“Dean, explain?” John said, moving up the bed to get away from the hand the man was reaching for him.
Dean stepped between them, intercepting Castiel. “Enough. You’ve fucked with this family enough.”
“Stop.” Sam was suddenly sitting up, his hand grabbing John’s arm.
“Samuel, you should not be awake.”
“I know.” His eyes skipped over Dean and John and back to Castiel. “Leave.”
“I can not.”
“Okay, at least go invisible for a bit. I need to talk to them.”
Sam sank back against the bed and Castiel seemed to vanish. “What the fuck is going on?” John asked after a moment of silence.
“Angels.” Sam gasped out, his eyes closing for a minute. When they reopened, John could see the strain in them, the fight it was taking to stay awake. “Can’t stay long. Won’t remember this when I wake up again.” He licked his lips. “Sorry, took longer than I wanted. Didn’t mean to be gone so long.”
“Shh, Sam. You need to rest. “ John said, reaching for him, brushing a hand over his forehead.
His eyes suddenly opened wide. “Dad?” He pushed himself up again. “Did I….when I fell…did I do that?”
“Don’t worry about it, Sammy.” Dean said, sitting on the bed beside him. “He’s adjusting. You sleep as long as you need to, we’ll be here.”
Sam shook his head. “I can…I can fix it. Put it back like it was. If you want…”
He was looking up at John, but fading quickly. His hand brushed over John’s and his eyes closed. John leaned in to kiss his forehead. “Sleep, Sammy.”
There was a knock on the door and John turned, then staggered as the world shifted. Dean caught him, eased him down into a chair as Jim Murphy came into the room. “You okay?”
Strange images swirled around his head, making him shake his head. Memories of a life he didn’t live…or maybe one he did, mixing and twisting together….Dean helping him ride a bike, Sam showing him how to make macaroni and cheese, a baby in a crib, a dismal landscape filled with dead bodies, demons and Sam and hunting with Bobby for a werewolf south of Boise, teaching Dean how to shoot a shotgun….He bowed forward as the images shot through him in rapid succession, gasping for air as the deluge finally slowed.
He looked up to find Dean and Jim both looking concerned. He nodded slowly. “I’m okay, I think.”
“You think?” Dean asked.
John nodded. “I’m not sure what day it is or if any of what I’m seeing in my head is real….but yeah, I’m okay.”
“What are you seeing?” Jim asked, his arms crossed.
John shook his head. “Memories maybe, though some of it feels like….it isn’t real.” He rubbed at his head. “Castiel…he’s…an angel?” John frowned. That couldn’t be right. “You…he helped Sam when his gifts were getting dangerous. You didn’t do the ritual.”
It’s okay, John. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to push the voice away. It was Sam…he was sure it was Sam, but Sam was unconscious. More memory bubbled to the surface, a ghost in a pool, a demon in a church, angels, dreams that came true. “I don’t…” He stood, stepping between Dean and Jim. “I need some air.”
He stormed through the hallway and out the nearest exit, wanting a cigarette and a bottle of whiskey. And yet, some part of him laughed at the idea. He wasn’t surprised that Jim followed him. “You know, I remember the first time we met. You chewed me out over the life I was giving my boys.”
Jim smiled. “I remember the last time we met, you wanted advice on how to tell Dean you wanted to join the Marines.”
John frowned, but the memory bubbled up and he could see the conversation. He shook his head. “I already did my share of that for one lifetime.” He sighed. “What was I thinking?”
Jim chuckled. “Well, in your own words, college isn’t for you, and you need to do something with your life.”
Images jumbled around his head, scenes from the war in Vietnam, from classes he took the first time around, classes he knew he didn’t take the first time around. “Who is Amanda?” John asked suddenly as a pretty face filled his mind.
Jim leaned back against the wall with a smirk. “Ah, yes. Young Amanda. She’s the one thing holding you back. You really like her.”
John could feel that. Her face stirred up all kinds of conflicting emotions. “This is fucking weird.” He rubbed at his head. “Sam, he…did something…”
Jim nodded. “I’m not surprised. As I’ve been given to understand, your son was called into service by God, John. That kind of thing leaves a man changed.”
John snorted. “I never believed in god and angels and all that crap.”
“Don’t need to believe in a thing for it to be real, John.” Jim said.
“Obviously.” Dean had tried to explain to him what had happened, but John hadn’t been fully sure he believed him. He still really wanted a drink and a cigarette. He looked up as a man pushed the doors to the hospital open. Something wasn’t right with him. He was filled with rage. “Demon.” John said, barely audibly.
Jim turned, murmuring , “Christo.”
The man growled and turned, his eyes filling with black. He shoved Jim away and came at John, but before he could react there was suddenly light pouring out of his eyes and mouth and in seconds, he fell to the ground. In his place, Castiel stood.
“Are you unharmed?”
“I’m fine.” John said, backing up another step. “What…what was that?”
“That was a demon.” Castiel said with a straight face. “You have encountered demons before, John.”
He shook his head. “No, I could see him.”
Castiel’s face showed confusion. “Yes, as you always have.”
“I’m pretty sure I would remember—“ Only he did. Flashes of faces, darkness, black inky darkness inside of men who looked normal to everyone else, then others who were filled with white light and….it was rapidly becoming too much.
“Samuel attempted to put right what went wrong.” Castiel said, reaching for John.
John pulled away. “You are not meant to remember both of your lives, John Winchester. It will drive you insane.”
“Everything seems pretty damn crazy already.”
Jim stepped forward when it seemed Castiel was determined to touch him. “What are you doing?”
“I will set it right.”
“Don’t you think John should have a say in that?”
Castiel frowned at him. “If he is left with both sets of memories, he will go insane and his gifts will become dangerous.”
“Can you just give him a minute?” Jim asked, stepping between John and the angel now. “He’s had a rough couple of days.
“What the hell is going on out here.” Dean suddenly demanded as he joined them.
“Samuel attempted to repair what was broken on the night he returned home. He was not strong enough. If he will stand still, I will finish the work.” Castiel said, reaching again for John.
Dean pulled John closer. “Just a minute.” He turned to look at John. “Are you okay?”
John shook his head. “I don’t know? I’m suddenly seeing demons and remembering things I shouldn’t and wow, he really is white…” His knees buckled and Dean eased him down.
Everything was swimming around him and he couldn’t make sense of what was real. He grabbed at Dean, trying to pull himself upright, but Castiel was too close. “No!” John pushed and to his surprise, Castiel actually stepped back. “Give me a fucking second.”
He pulled himself up, pushing at the chaos in his head. “Dean. I need to tell you something.”
“Dad, it’s okay.” Dean turned them so that he was between John and the angel.
“I didn’t get to tell you before.” He exhaled and held it, willing the swilling memories to settle. “I am so damn proud of you, Son. So proud. What you’ve done with what I left you…taking care of your brother, those beautiful kids…” He pulled Dean to him. “So fucking proud. I love you.”
Dean’s hands closed around him. “I love you too, Dad.”
He felt Dean’s nod, then a hand on his back, on his head, hot and pressing down. Something in his head popped and John’s body went limp in Dean’s arms, fire burning through his head until suddenly everything went dark.
“It’s been a hell of a week.” Jim said, handing Dean a beer.
“You could say that.” Dean agreed, his eyes skipping up to John’s bedroom door. He had been quiet since they’d come home from the hospital after the incident with Castiel. “I’m going to need to clean out the spare room.” Sam was still unconscious, nearly a week after he first showed up on their front porch.
“You know, if what Castiel was implying back there is true, Sam could be out for quite some time.” Jim said, sitting back on the couch.
“Yeah, I know. “ Dean took a long drink from his beer.
They were quiet for a long time. Jim finished his beer. “How’s John?”
Dean sighed and stood, leaving his beer on the coffee table. He rubbed his hands down his thighs, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. “How would you be? He knows that for two days he wasn’t him. He knows Sam did something that changed him and that Castiel did something to change him back, but he can’t remember anything past opening the front door and finding Sam.”
“And Sarah?”
That at least made Dean smile. “She’s been amazing. She’s down at her mother’s right now with the kids.” For the first five years after his father became his son, Dean had wished over and over for his father to come back to him, and then, for two days, John was his father again, even if he was still in a fifteen year old body.
“It was the right thing to do, right?” Dean asked for probably the fifth time since it happened.
“He couldn’t continue remembering both lives.” Jim responded.
“But, did we have the right to decide which one he got to keep?” Part of him was convinced it was the right thing. But there was a nagging part, the part that still wanted his father back, that wondered if maybe Castiel was wrong, if maybe John would have been better off as the man he was before.
“Can you imagine your father stuck inside a fifteen year old body?” Jim asked. “I think that would have been asking for trouble.”
“I know.” He squeezed the bridge of his nose.
“I should go. I still have a sermon to write.”
“Thanks again, for everything.”
“Anytime, Son. You know that.”
Dean walked him to the door, stepping out on the porch as Jim got into the church’s old station wagon. He waved as Jim pulled away, but before he could go back inside, a cab was pulling up out front. The back door opened and Sam staggered out.
“Sam?”
“Dean.”
Dean came off the porch, running to get an arm around his brother before he fell. “What are you doing?”
“Wanted to be home.” Sam said, leaning in to him.
“Hey, buddy. He said you’d pay me.”
“Yeah, okay, how much?”
“Thirty five dollars and forty five cents.”
Dean fished out his wallet and pulled out forty dollars, shoving it through the open window. “Keep the change.” He adjusted his grip on Sam and got them turned for the house. “Okay, let’s get you inside.”
Sam did his best to help, but his feet dragged and Dean had to haul him up the steps. He got them as far as the couch and eased Sam down to sitting. “Better.” Sam said, though he looked like he was going to pass out again. “Nurses were making me nuts.” He leaned back and closed his eyes and for a minute, Dean was sure he’d passed out again. Then, his eyes opened and he looked up at Dean. “John, is John okay?”
Dean nodded and came to perch on the coffee table. “Sam, he’s fine. But you…you belong in that hospital.”
Sam didn’t move, but Dean still got the impression that he was shaking his head. “They can’t do anything for me. Just need rest. I can rest here.”
“Samuel.”
Sam sighed and closed his eyes again as the angel appeared beside Dean. “Holy fucking hell, would you stop doing that?” Dean growled.
“Castiel, I told you, I’m fine. Go away.” Sam sighed. “I’m not going to hide away in some sacred whatever with you. I’ll do my recovering here.”
“I can not protect you adequately here.”
“Dean can protect me.” Sam argued. “Dean and John. Family.”
“Damn straight.” Dean agreed.
“I’m going to pass out now.” Sam said suddenly, his eyes closing.
“He should not have come here.” Castiel said.
Dean stood and turned to him. “Well, he’s here now and you heard him, here is where he wants to be, so you can just fuck off.”
“He is my responsibility, Dean. It is my honor to protect him as he recovers from his duty.”
“Yeah, well. Protect him all you want, but he stays here.”
“There is a place prepared—“
“I don’t care. We’ll make a place here. I was going to start making the spare bedroom up for Samantha, but we can set it up for Sam.” Dean turned to point to the room, stopping as he saw John on the stairs.
“I…felt him.”
“He’s okay.” Dean comforted.
John nodded, his eyes slightly glazed over. “Yeah, he is. Annoyed with junkless here, but okay.” His eyes snapped to Castiel. “He stays. Dad and I will look after him.”
“Demons will try to come for him while he is weak.”
John sort of smirked. “Let them. Dad and I know how to handle demons.”
For a long time John and the angel stared at one another, and it was Castiel that finally looked away. “Very well, show me this room of yours. I will do as I can to fortify it.”
John grinned. “Now we’re talking. I’ve got a few ideas too. I’ve been doing some research.” He led the way down the hall to the last room of the house they hadn’t fully taken over. The last remnants of their old lives lived in there, along with whatever was left of the things the old lady who had lived in the place before them had left behind.
Dean laid Sam down on the couch, pulling the afghan Sarah’s mother had made off the chair to cover him with. She would be home soon with the kids. His whole family under one roof.
It felt good. Right.
And yeah, maybe it wasn’t exactly what he thought his life would be…And maybe his brother had just been a vessel for God and maybe his father was still his son…but they were all together, and in the end, that was what mattered most.
