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shallowzTitle: The First Day of the End of Everything
Author: shallowz
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG13
Characters: John, Dean, Sam
Warnings/spoilers: John’s journal, possibly Home. Likely very AU since Supernatural: Origins has been released.
Word count: around 2,200
Disclaimer: Supernatural is not ours. No profit being made … etc.
Summary: The first days and weeks after the fire that changed everything for the Winchesters. Part of the First Series. Based on John’s journal entries found at Super-Wiki, The Journal (diary entries).
Thanks to harrigan for making it all shiny.Part One
Part Two
Part Three
December 17, 1983
Psychics?
He was going to psychics. No small wonder Mike thought John was going crazy. Not that John was advertising the fact. It was becoming clear to him that people who once trusted and believed in him treated him differently these days.
Even he had to admit that he was desperate if he kept checking psychics out after the first joker. El Divino almost took his own “You’re going away on a long trip” the hard way.
Standing on the doorstep of Missouri Mosely’s house, his fourth visit to a psychic, John wasn’t optimistic about the outcome. He was already thinking of other avenues for gathering information.
Irritated and tense, John was about to leave when a woman opened the door. She appeared about to greet him, but instead flinched as if in pain.
Taking his hand in hers, she said in such a genuinely heartfelt tone, “I’m so sorry.”
And everything changed.
John wasn’t sure why it was so important for Missouri and his sons to meet, but he brought the boys back to the psychic. Partly he wanted the reassurance that the evil hadn’t left a mark on them.
He carried Sam, and held onto Dean’s hand as they walked up to Missouri’s door. Both boys were quiet, and out in the daylight looked much too pale. Dean had become withdrawn, avoiding everyone except him and Sammy.
Kate and Mike had attempted to get closer to his children, and they did help to take care of some of their more basic needs. But Dean wasn’t comfortable with them, and Sammy was restless when left in their care unless Dean stayed with him. Dean had become Sam’s primary care-giver when John left the house. And even with his emotions all over the place, John knew that a four-year-old shouldn’t have that type of responsibility. At the same time, he understood that Dean needed to take care of his brother.
Missouri opened her door as they came up the walkway.
Smiling softly, she leaned down a little to catch Dean’s gaze. John felt the small hand in his grip a little tighter.
“Hello, Dean,” Missouri greeted, “I’m so glad your daddy brought you for us to meet.”
She reached out to gently take his free hand, giving him time to pull away if he didn’t wish to be touched.
Her smile turned compassionate, “Oh, honey, it’s okay to miss your mom. That’s the way it’s supposed to be. You don’t have to forget her.”
Startled, John glanced down in time to see Dean peeking up through his bangs, and realized that his son was looking to him for the truth.
“She’s right, Dean,” he said, crouching down. “I miss your mom too. I always will.”
Dean shuddered slightly, and just like that John could see some of his boy’s tension slough away. His green eyes looked a little less dull and more alert.
Turning back to Missouri, Dean said his first unprompted words since the night Mary died.
“This is Sammy,” he said with the slightest hint of his old smile. “He’s seven months old. He’s really smart for a baby.”
Missouri grinned, “I’m sure he is. Nice to meet you, Sammy,” she added as she laid a hand on his dark, wavy hair.
Sam had been watching Dean, but now looked to Missouri. “Bah, bah.”
Dean’s smile grew. “That means he’s thirsty.”
“Well, let’s do something about that,” Missouri huffed as she easily pulled Dean into the house with John being tugged along by Dean.
Looking over her shoulder, Missouri met John’s gaze. “Sam will be just fine once we get him some juice.”
And John knew that she was talking about more than just the juice.
Fifteen minutes later found Sam, his thirst quenched, sitting on Missouri’s lap playing with the large beaded necklace she was wearing while watching his brother flit around them.
“I told daddy that Sammy didn’t like peas. They’re yucky.” Dean confided with a quick glance to John, who couldn’t be happier to see the change in his son. Dean even included the appropriate facial expression for “yucky”.
“Daddy said that peas were good for Sammy, and that he had to eat them. So Daddy kinda pushed the spoon in Sammy’s mouth, and, and Sammy made this face.” Dean demonstrated a truly comical look that John had to admit was an accurate portrayal of Sam's face at the time.
“Then Sammy just stopped eating like he didn’t know what to do, and, and then he spit.” Here Dean flung his arms out and away from his body to show what happened.
Sam giggled. Dean looked to him and grinned. “Right, Sammy! Mushy peas went everywhere! Even …” Dean paused for effect, and lowered his voice slightly, “even all OVER daddy!”
Dean gave a little boy guffaw, and continued, “So daddy thought he should show Sammy how to eat the peas and, and he ate some, but,” again Dean paused, “he SPIT them out too.” Dean doubled over with laughter.
Missouri couldn’t help but laugh along with Dean, and she looked to John.
John found he was smiling, and admitted, “They really were gross. We never fed Sam creamed peas again.”
Dean smirked, and it was so much like the way Mary had looked in the aftermath of the “pea incident” that John felt his heart give a lurch.
But Dean was laughing, and Sam was giggling, and John thought he just might cry.
December 20, 1983
John picked up Missouri with no small amount of apprehension. She needed to go to the house to see if she could sense anything left behind.
It was a quiet drive, and he appreciated that she wasn’t one of those people who felt small talk would help out a grieving man.
Once parked in front of the house, John couldn’t move right away. He could only stare out the windshield and look at the ruin it was.
It wasn’t until Missouri gently laid her hand over one of his clutching the steering wheel that he moved. He would never be able to tell her how much her support meant.
“Let’s get this over with,” he said gruffly as he got out of the car, and quickly went to the passenger side to assist her.
Seeming to know that John couldn’t take the first step, Missouri led the way up the sidewalk and braced herself before entering the unlocked house.
John managed to step through the doorway, and found himself assaulted with memories of what life was like before. It seemed so long ago that this place had been their home.
Almost unconsciously, he followed Missouri through the place. It was all so wrong. Once they got to Sam’s room, he lost it. It wasn’t the room he was familiar with. He couldn’t breath, and for the second time in his life, he found himself hyperventilating.
Looking at Missouri’s face was enough to bring him out of himself, and see that she was reacting to something.
“John, there is such evil here,” she stated, shaken. She was rubbing her arms like she was trying to wipe something off. “It has a horrible presence. If the echo feels like this, it has to be strong. Stronger than anything I’ve felt before. I can’t explain how awful this feels. I’ve never come across anything like it.”
John could see Missouri starting to tremble, and that was enough. Quickly, he pulled her away from his baby’s room. “Let’s go. We’ve got what we need.”
It didn’t take much prodding from John to get her to leave the house. As they were walking to the car, John took a look back at the house, and tried to remember what it felt like living a normal life. The ache in his chest grew, and he wanted that life back so badly.
Wanting wouldn’t bring it back. Turning away, he left that wanting behind.
December 22, 1983
It was Dean standing perfectly still by the living room door that alerted John that something was up. His quiet little boy was hardly breathing. Vaguely alarmed, John quietly moved towards him. He didn’t know if Dean sensed or heard him, but his boy turned to him with eyes so large and fearful that John's heart clenched.
Then John heard voices. Kate and Mike’s. Low hissing, whispers that sent him crouching by Dean and polite or not, once John heard the boys mentioned, he shoved any thought of social niceties away.
“Mike-“
“I know, I know. I’ll do something.” Mike’s low rumble carried easily.
“When? This can’t go on. I’m not sure at this point if he can be trusted with the boys.” Kate bit out. “You’ve seen those books, heard that crazy talk.”
Mike groaned. “Never thought I’d see John lose it this bad. Wouldn’t believe it if I wasn’t seeing it with my own eyes.”
“Tomorrow you’ll call Social Services?”
He barely heard Mike assuring his wife that he would make the call, get help for the boys, get help for John.
In that clarity of moment, John came to the shattering realization that Mary’s death had been the first day of the end of everything. Shaken and dazed, he continued to listen to the Guenthers determine how to fix his life.
It was a small hand gripping his shoulder that brought John back.
Dean was staring at him, face stubborn, insistent that his father get back to the here and now. John grasped his son’s hand, feeling it steady him; quickly reminding him of what he had left to lose.
John gave a sharp nod to Dean and with his chin indicated the bedroom. Something must have shown in his expression, because Dean gave a tiny smile and quickly padded to the bedroom. John eased away carefully, no longer listening, no longer caring what the Guenthers were saying. They had said enough.
He’d never be able to write in the journal what their disloyalty had done to him. As it was, John filed them under opposition and dismissed them.
The Guenthers were doing what they thought was right. John was doing what he knew was right.
When John slipped into the bedroom, he found Dean pulling their duffels out of the closet. He had already gathered Sammy's toys on the bed.
“Time to go, isn’t it, bud?” John took the offered bag. Dean just nodded and started stuffing Sam’s toys in a bag. John cupped his hand over Dean’s head feeling the soft silk of his hair. Dean looked up. “You did good.”
Dean gave a quick grin, and John swept him up in his arms, bringing them face to face.
“I’d never let anyone take you and Sam away from me. You know that, right?”
“I know, daddy.”
“Good. We’ll get packed and leave before dawn.” John gave him a quick hug, set him back down on the bed, and studied his oldest. Saw that this almost five-year-old already understood that people could take and be taken without ever having a say in it.
After they had packed, John lifted Sam out of the crib and laid him on the bed between Dean and himself. John was grateful for the approval he found in Dean’s eyes. Maybe he wasn’t the best father right now, but his boys knew he loved them.
Hopefully, that would be enough.
Just before dawn, John gathered up their bags and stowed them in the trunk by the growing collection of weapons. He placed a few toys and blankets in the back seat. He left the car doors open to avoid additional noise and to make it easier to situate his sons.
Both boys were still asleep. He gently scooped them up, not wanting to leave one alone while he brought the other to the car. That ever-present fear had grown throughout the night; telling him he couldn’t take chances. Not now.
He had to leave.
Get away.
Get away.
Neither of his boys woke as he buckled them in. Wincing just a little at the creaking doors, John slid in behind the wheel and started the car.
He would pick up food once they hit the next town. He didn’t want to take the chance of stopping in Lawrence.
He would pick up food once they hit the next town. He didn’t want to take the chance of stopping in Lawrence.
“All right, girl. Let’s get out of here,” he muttered as he guided the car onto the street. John didn’t look back; a sense of isolation hitting him hard as he left everything of what he had been behind.
No, not everything.
The road opened up before him.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2007-05-07 12:52 am (UTC)I'm glad you got little Dean talking again!
This is a great story! A sequel would totally rock!
no subject
Date: 2007-05-07 03:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-07 01:10 am (UTC)And that says it all really ... loved this glimpse of the 'early days' without Mary ... I've read the journal but it was great to see the whole story brought to life.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-07 03:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-08 05:44 am (UTC)Aww, yes indeed. Poor John. This pads out the comments in his journal nicely, and thank you for making him such a caring dad. :)
no subject
Date: 2007-05-08 05:14 pm (UTC)Thank you!
no subject
Date: 2007-05-08 06:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-08 08:14 pm (UTC)Thanks for your great comments!
Nice!
Date: 2007-05-08 04:03 pm (UTC)Anyhow, this is really well done. The pace you've chosen, the sort of snapshot-effect of the various scenes, not to long but oh so telling, just somehow makes it seem more John-like. There's no protracted angst or over-thinking, there's just John in his blunt way acknowledging and trying to come to grips with the worst event of his life. Mike and Kate are awesomely drawn, too, decent people who through no fault of their own become adversaries to John, simply because the truth is beyond their comprehension.
Finally, I adore the ferocious love he feels for his boys. The single most illuminating thing John ever said in the series, IMHO, was when John told Sam the reason he had reacted so badly to Sam going to college, was that he feared Sam being alone. John was panicking, is all, and his mistake was not realising that Sam's will was stronger than his and that Sam would take his words to heart. But it wasn't anger that drove John - it was fear, and you see his fear for his boys, his family, as clear as day, here.
And that ending line is just perfect.
I saw you'd mentioned a follow up sequel sort of thing to this, and I really look forward to reading it. You do one of the best jobs with John that I've seen. :-) Thank you for this!
Cheers ~
Erin
P.S.
One small quibble: Marine is always spelled with a capital M. :-)
Re: Nice!
Date: 2007-05-08 09:17 pm (UTC)Second, wow. You've just told us that everything we hoped to convey in this fic, we did. And just so I don't sound loony tunes, there is a team shallowz. Trust me, it takes two of us to pull any of this off.:D
We love John. He's so perfect in his imperfection, as well as being great to look at.:)
Thanks for this review and all your thoughtful comments.:D
Shallowz 1
Re: Nice!
Date: 2007-05-08 10:25 pm (UTC)~ Erin
And thanks again!
Re: Nice!
Date: 2007-05-09 12:45 am (UTC)Re: Nice!
Date: 2007-05-09 01:04 am (UTC)They could give us Latin lessons. Yeah. That's what we'd call it. *G*
~ Erin
Re: Nice!
Date: 2007-05-09 02:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-09 05:43 pm (UTC)Can't wait to read the sequel ;).
no subject
Date: 2007-05-10 03:18 am (UTC)A small fic that follows this one is posted. Not sure more will be done with the journal entries at this point, but it hasn't been ruled out.:)
Thank you!!
no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 05:17 am (UTC)Loved the peas story.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-14 04:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-05-25 09:32 pm (UTC)Seriously.
Beautiful. *sniffles*
no subject
Date: 2007-05-26 01:39 am (UTC)Thank you!!
P.S.: Love the icon.
no subject
Date: 2007-05-26 01:02 pm (UTC)Ah, the icon. *pets* It's my "Dean is totally the innovator/pattern expert of the family, shuddup you Dean-is-not-very-smart people! *stabs*" icon.
*grins*
no subject
Date: 2007-07-05 03:04 am (UTC)you should be writing Origins
no subject
Date: 2007-07-05 03:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-10 07:28 am (UTC)Oh wow, honey!! I...I loved this...
*Weeps quietly*
Oh, how he has been betrayed by all but one!
*Shivers*
*hugs you*
no subject
Date: 2007-09-11 03:18 am (UTC)Thank you!
*Hugs back*
no subject
Date: 2008-04-29 02:00 pm (UTC)I think this was a fabulous thing for John to pick up on: Saw that this almost five-year-old already understood that people could take and be taken without ever having a say in it.
In an owie, hurty kind of way.
Although the journal entries do contradict show canon a bit (I mean, the journals make it clear that Missouri was a person, while in "Home" the boys thought it was the state), I also accept them as canon because they offer such great information about the beginnings of John's career. Technically, he's not even a hunter yet, but the events that led him to uproot his life are vividly drawn by the journal. Thanks for this "dramatic reenactment" of that period.
no subject
Date: 2008-04-30 01:20 am (UTC)Thank you again for your thoughtful, and thought provoking, comments.:)