Dodger Winslow's Master SPN Fic List
What you'll find here? Strictly Gen. Much of it pre-series; virtually all of it canon-based.
All of it about family. Often with monsters. None of them (the monsters) ever being John.
Dodger Winslow's Master Fic List
To access all parts of a multi-part story, click on the title tag (fic: "title of fic") at the bottom of any chapter and all chapters of that fic will come up in reverse order, last chapter to first chapter.
PRE-SERIES:
The Mark of Cain (In the Beginning): Are you sure what came back was 100% John?
In the eyes of the mortal world, it was John Winchester who walked alone out of the no man’s land of devastation wrongly tallied to a napalm bloom that never happened, who became a myth spoken of in whispers as the sole survivor of the unsurvivable and who returned to Lawrence, Kansas to the family and girlfriend he left behind to fight a war that marked him but never changed him. But behind the eyes of John Winchester, it was me.
Jitters: Mary's crying on their wedding day; John needs to know why. (contains explicit material, John/Mary)
Mary leaned over, kissed him. And just that quickly, every cell in his body was on high alert. Her bustier could have killed him with what it was doing to her body; and even those ridiculous petticoats seemed hotter than hell all of a sudden, like some kind of pot-induced kink that could make you look at some half-hot hippie chick with pit hair down to her elbows and tell your buddies, "I’d tap that." Part 1 Part 2
In the Beginning, As it Ends: The father John was and might have been.
"We're not a dream, John," Mary whispered against his neck. "You're not going to wake up one day and find everything's gone."
Ten Minutes: Mary hates it when he falls asleep in front of the TV.
Nothing Else Matters: Moving. He has to keep moving. (drabble)
Because He Can: Dean wants to be a fireman when he grows up.
Pray with Me: John wants answers.
The Grass Assassin: Jim Murphy helps a four year old grieve. (This is locked off for a reason. If you want to read it, email me and I'll unlock it for a couple of hours.)
Jim crouched beside the pew, putting himself on Dean’s level, putting himself where the boy could see him eye to eye. He held one hand out, palm up, so Dean could see the frog nestled there, the frog Dean had pestered to irritable agitation, but had ultimately chosen to spare from the lethal expressions of his boundless, little-boy anger. "Everything is a choice, Dean," he said quietly. "You can chose to destroy, or you can chose not to destroy."
Swimming Lessons: In his son's eyes, he sees himself drowning. (drabble)
The Thing About Clowns: (Post Everybody Loves a Clown & Pre-series). Dean still isn't talking after Mary's murder, so John takes him to the circus for a little one-on-one guy time.
It was a trap. The second Dean started away, the clown ran after him and grabbed him by the shoulders. It made him come back to the middle of the ring while everybody laughed at how funny it was Dean thought he could go when he couldn’t. He felt really stupid for not realizing it was a trap when everybody else did; and it made him mad the clown tricked him that way just because it knew he wanted to go back to his dad so bad he wouldn’t be paying as much attention as he should have been.
Run: Something wicked this way comes. (drabble)
Run: There's something on the other side of the door, but John has no idea what it is, or what it wants. (First in the Four Times the Winchesters Had to Move (And Once They Didn't) Series)
John dropped to one knee, met his four-year-old’s ancient eyes with as much nothing-to-it calm as he could muster. "Okay, bud," he said, his voice little more than a whisper. "I’m not sure what we’re going to find out there, but we need to be ready for anything, okay?" Dean nodded. "When I open the door," John went on, "I want you to stay behind me. Keep Sammy up close to you, just like you’re doing now, but stay behind me. You’re doing perfect now, so I want you to keep doing it just like that, okay? But stay behind me, Dean. That’s important. Keep my body between you and the outside until I say different, okay? Do you understand?" Dean nodded again.
The Messenger: A stranger in a trenchcoat has a message for John.
"My name is Castiel," the man said like he thought John might give a fuck.
"Good for you," John returned. "My name’s Wolverine, and I meant what I said. Stay the fuck away from my kid."
The Constancy of Pain: When John comes home from a hunt hurt, he and Dean spend the night in the ER.
John's chest had gone tight. His head was pounding, his heart working harder than it had to. He’d locked this up inside for so long it was hard to get it out. Hard to actually say it, hard to admit how far he’d fallen away from the civilized man Mary’d made of him once, hard to concede that the mechanic she’d reclaimed from a Marine who spent too long killing to keep from being killed no longer existed, that it was just a charade John played in the sham of a life he tried to live between hunts. "The hunt makes it sane for me," he said, trying to explain it to Jim. "It gives me a pressure valve, a way to let it off without hurting something that doesn’t deserve hurting. And I need that. God help me, but I need it. If I didn’t have it, I’d blow and take everyone with me." Part 1 Part 2
Parental Instincts: Parent's Day at Dean's new school.(First in the Mrs. Jessup Series)
Whoever Mrs. Jessup expected John Winchester to be, this man wasn't him
My Hero, by Dean Winchester: Dean has a hero. (Second in the Mrs. Jessup Series)
As vaguely disillusioned as Mrs. Jessup was by the last twenty-eight reports given end-on-end to the realization that the overwhelming majority of her students had absolutely no idea what she was trying to teach them, she knew she’d saved the best for last, and he was standing now, walking to the front of the classroom with his report scrunched in his hands, looking terribly nervous as if he thought maybe he’d gotten the whole assignment completely wrong in choosing a hero who wasn’t fictional or famous or otherwise unworthy of a child’s unabashed adoration.
See Me. Know Me. Remember Me: Dean will never forget Mrs. Jessup ... and neither will John. (Second in the Four Times the Winchesters Had to Move (And Once They Didn't) Series and Fifth in the Mrs. Jessup Series)
A fucking teacher. Who the hell makes a friend out of a fucking teacher? But Dean did. He started out slow, made a few tentative passes to check out the lay of the land; but once he committed himself to the mission objective, he waded in full bore, stormed the beachhead with an eye on taking the flag for his own. Kid went from balking at the idea of taking her an apple after a promising Parent’s Day conference to launching a full scale invasion that would have done MacArthur proud.
A Warm Summer Rain: (Post Everybody Loves a Clown). Grieving John, Dean comes home to familiar ground. (Third in the Mrs. Jessup Trilogy)
"Are you from around here?" she asked. "I’m a teacher at the elementary school. Mrs. Jessup. Maybe you were one of my students when I was a little closer to the age of the woman who invited you over for a peek through her living room window."
A Cold, Fast Current : Sammy's sick, and that's not Dean's job.(Fourth in the Mrs. Jessup Series)
Once Sammy slipped back to sleep, John glanced out the bedroom door and caught Dean watching them from the couch. The kid looked away the moment their eyes met, went back to watching his cartoon like he’d never been doing anything else.Yeah, something was definitely wrong with him.
Four Years Old Today: Sammy wants to know. (drabble)
The Father I Should Be: Sometimes believing in something isn't as important as letting someone believe in you.
"Pastor Jim says God is like a dad, too," Sammy said. "That He protects us like you do."
John hoped God was doing a better job of it than Sammy’s daddy was. "That sounds like the way it probably works."
"Then how come God was watching somebody else instead of Dean?"
For just a moment, John wondered how much damage it would do to his son if he made his daddy cry. In an effort to keep from finding out, he leaned over and kissed the top of Sammy’s head, saying, "Go to sleep, son. We’ll go visit Dean again in the morning."
"What if He isn’t ever watching us?" Sammy asked. His voice was so quiet it sounded like whispers of conscience in the dark. "What if He doesn’t really exist and nobody’s watching out for us at all?"
The Greatest of These: Sammy knows his daddy will come. (drabble)
Five Times Mary ... She's been gone for five years now, and it still feels like yesterday. (contains relatively non-explicit explicit material ... hey figure that one out for yourself. John/Mary)
She was a burst of color on a gray day, a set of blue eyes flicking over him for barely more than a second. John hadn’t been back in the world long, and this was the first time he’d actually tried to mix with civilians on their own turf. He was standing on the boardwalk, leaning against a piling and doing his best to fit in simply by holding still, by not drawing attention to himself. At least three people had already spotted the corps tat on his forearm, giving him a wide berth as they passed like they could still smell the blood on him, still see the mud in his soul or sense the death he was trying to leave in the past like it didn’t haunt him in the present.
If It Comes to That: Bobby's not all that fond of John; he sure as fuck doesn't want to inherit John's sons.
Winchester closed his eyes, leaned harder into the tree against which he’d braced himself to stay afoot. "Not asking," he said, his voice tight, grim, hard. "Telling. You get to them if it comes to that. You find ’em and place ’em if you don’t keep ’em; or so help me, God, I will come back and gut you in your sleep." He opened his eyes again, fixed his gaze on Bobby’s to ask, "You understand?"
Ten Going on Thirteen: When John is wounded, his life is in Dean's hands.
For a ten year old, Dean really had the pain-in-the-ass part of being mature for his age down pat.
Stay: When breakfast on the road takes a deadly turn, Dean is the only one who can save his father's life. He's ten, he's alone, and the only way he makes it through this is if she stays. (Sequel to Ten Going on Thirteen)
Their dad was already moving, already out of the booth and making a desperate effort to get his own body between the shotgun and his sons. There was no way in hell he was going to make it - they were too far away, and the shotgun was already settling into line - but he still tried. "Dean!" Both Doll and Sweet Face froze at the sound of their father’s voice. Rooted in place as their dad barreled toward them, Doll’s eyes found the danger and went wide. His hand thrust out, slammed into the middle of his brother’s back, knocking the smaller boy down and out of the way as the shotgun went off like a freight train going through a little, tin house. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
New Town: Moving day. (drabble)
Five Finger Discount: They weren't going to steal from him today. (drabble)
The Sign: Jim Murphy knows more than he lets on.
Jim was awake suddenly. Coldly, frighteningly awake. He opened his eyes, sat up in bed. "Dean? What is it? Is your dad okay?"
Failure is Not an Option: When hunters come after Sammy, John and Jim Murphy will do whatever it takes to protect him. (Third in the Four Times the Winchesters Had to Move (And Once They Didn't) Series)
He left Sammy crying in the back seat; made it to the office and got to a counter he could lean on before his knees gave out completely. The school secretary took one look at him and decided he was an unparalleled piece of shit. He paid her generosity back by flashing his best "fuck you" smile and telling her to get his kid for him, pronto.
No Shame. No Shame at All: The school secretary doesn't think much of Dean Winchester's father. (Outsider POV companion piece for Failure is Not an Option)
"I’m here to pick up my boy," he said, leaning into the counter as he spoke. He sounded as drunk as he looked. His voice was the texture of burlap, grinding out of him like sandpaper on unfinished cement.
Mrs. Peterson smiled thinly, wondering which lucky boy held the winning ticket in this particular parental lotto. "And your son’s name?"
"Winchester," he grunted. He closed his eyes for a moment, too drunk to keep them open in the room’s bright light. "Dean Winchester."
Keep Going: Why John didn't make it home for Christmas. (A Very Supernatural Christmas)
He was too far off the road. No one would see him lying here in a ditch; and even if they did, they probably wouldn’t stop. If he didn’t get up again, he’d freeze to death right where he fell, and they wouldn’t find his body until the spring thaw. That was as bad as lying there curled up in a fetal ball by a bloody tree; it was as bad as letting himself crawl into a cave and lie down because at least it was dry there, even if it was still freezing and he wouldn’t make it through the night on naked stone. He had to keep going, dammit.He had to keep going.
The Truth About Lies: Why Sammy still doesn't know why John didn't make it home for Christmas. (A Very Supernatural Christmas, Sequel to Keep Going)
"You don’t tell someone a lie that’s harder to believe than the truth is," John said. "You make your lies easier to believe … something they want to believe, even if believing it hurts them. That’s the truth about lies, son: they only work if you tell ones that sound like the truth. And for Sammy, the truth he’s going to hear-the truth he’s going to believe-is that I forgot him, not that I’m trying to protect him."
The Naughty List: Santa's Naughty List is more than just a cautionary Christmas tradition. (Alternate missing-Daddy scenario for A Very Supernatural Christmas)
John smiled a little. The look in his eyes was at least twice as scary as anything Randy’d yet seen when he said, "There’s some crazy shit out there in the dark, Randy. Most of it would sound vaguely familiar if someone tried to tell you about it."
Part 1 Part 2
Freaks and Monsters: Dean's friend's in trouble, and he doesn't know how to help.
He picked her because she was a loner like him, and she seemed a little shy and unsure of herself, and she rarely talked, even if you talked to her first. She’d be pretty enough if you cleaned her up some; but not too pretty, even if you cleaned her up so much she sparkled brighter than the Impala after a good, hard polish; so he figured that was a good mix, or at least one that would do, given what he had in mind. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
We Were Like Family Once: John has history with the Harvelles.
The first time John showed up at the Roadhouse, he was hunting. He’d tracked his quarry here, knew it was inside. This was its home base, the place it holed up when it wasn’t running around, doing what things like it did. Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
It Will Always be Trees: It isn't clowns, it's trees. (drabble)
The Eyes to See: A teacher wants to help.
The kid was in trouble. He'd been teaching long enough to know the signs; to know the dark look in their eyes, know the cautious way they moved when they were hiding bruises or burns or broken bones under clothes and lies and a determination to be normal at any cost. And Dean Winchester had the signs.
The Lost Myth of Normal: All Sammy wants is to be normal. (Fourth in the Four Times the Winchesters Had to Move (And Once They Didn't) Series)
"I just wanted to stay in one place for awhile," Sammy said. "It’s really hard to make friends - especially girlfriends - when you move every time you get to know anybody well enough for them to start liking you that way." He looked up at John, blinked tears out of his eyes. "I’m not complaining or calling you a crap dad. I just really wanted to stay in one place for awhile. Can’t I just tell you that without it being me being selfish or not caring if kids die?"
Don't Ask, Don't Tell: Dean's got an impossible question for his old man.
"If we got in a wreck, and Sammy and I were both unconscious, and the Impala caught on fire so you could only save one of us, who would you save?"
The Family Business:Sammy doesn't want to be part of the family business. He just wants to be part of the family.
And just like that, Sammy’s whole world fell apart. Just like that, it wasn’t only Dad going out and risking his life to save people he didn’t even know from something that could kill him just as easily as it could kill them. Now it was Dean, too. Now it was both Dad and Dean who might leave and never come home again. Both of them going hunting together while he stayed at home, sitting on the sidelines the way he always was. Both of them talking about cars and girls and music and a hundred other things-and now hunting, too-and leaving him out, treating him like he wasn’t even part of the family anymore.
Reverent Clean Thrifty and Wise: Sammy wants to be a Boy Scout.
Sammy was sitting on the couch, eating potato chips, watching John like he was some kind of science experiment that was getting ready to render an interesting result any moment now. God only knew what that boy would consider interesting.
Skin Deep: A hunt for shapeshifters yeilds unexpected collateral damage.
He was an idiot. He had no idea what he was doing here. Or why he was doing it. The thing was a shapeshifter. It wasn’t a kid, it was a shapeshifter; but still, it was in his car, riding shotgun and looking enough like Dean four or five years ago to kill him with the resemblance. He wondered if that was intentional. Wondered if this thing’s old man had done enough research to find a picture of Dean, give his kid a shape to mimic that would be an advantage if John got too close. Part 1 (to access all Skin Deep chapters, click on the tag at the bottom of any chapter that says SPN fic: Skin Deep. All chapters will come up in reverse order, last chapter to first chapter, with no other entries in view.) **IF YOU'RE JUST ARRIVING FROM FANFICTION.NET, START HERE: Part 36 Part 37a Part 37b
The Outsiders: Sometimes fitting in is as much a matter of choice as it is desire.
Prodigal Son: John goes home. (crossover with Grey's Anatomy ... don't let that scare you, it's all about John and you don't need to have ever even seen GA to get everything there is to get)
When the call came, it hit John like a sucker punch from the blue. "John," the voice on the other end of the line said when he answered. "This is Denny Duquette. Your brother’s dead. He had a heart transplant, and it didn’t take. His body’s at Seattle Grace Hospital in Washington. I want you to go pick it up, sign for it, and send it home for burial. You don’t need to come with it. In fact, I’d prefer it if you didn’t." And then Duquette hung up, the silence between them sounding like more than twenty years of lost opportunities that weren’t so much lost as simply given away to darkness.
The Teacher's Lounge Coffee Klatch: This is the third time this year John's been called to the principal's office to discuss Dean's problem behavior. You can bet your ass it will also be the last. (Last in the Four Times the Winchesters Had to Move (And Once They Didn't) Series)
"I didn’t start it," Dean said before John had even cleared the door to the principal’s office. The kid was wound up tighter than a clock. His expression was pure pissed off, and his shoulders were so tense he looked like somebody’d jerked him to a screeching halt in mid-smack down. Which, as far as John could tell, was exactly what someone had done.
Finding Together: Dean, Girl, Impala. Shake, rattle and roll. (contains explicit material, Dean/OFC)
The Human Factor: Hunting is dangerous to more than just the body.
The Difference Between Night and Dark: Ellen comes looking for the truth about Bill's death.
Ellen Harvelle was the last person John expected to see when he looked through the peephole in his front door, one hand on the grip of the nine mil he habitually kept silver-loaded and stashed at the ready in the small of his back. He hadn’t seen her in almost four years. He hadn’t thought he would ever see her again.
Home: Bobby Singer has a weakness for dogs.
Bobby approached the dog slow and easy, lowering himself to a crouch just outside quick snap range. Up close, the smell was worse than he’d imagined. The shit had drawn flies to its wounds, made more of a mess of the poor thing than it already was.
Outside Looking In: It’s a little bit like being invisible. (drabble)
When You Go: Don't close the door behind you when you go.
Never Enough: "No matter how hard I try, I can't be what he wants me to be." (drabble)
Code of the Boys: John finds one of Sammy's old notes.
Number thirty-six on Sammy’s list of reasons John Winchester was a shitty dad : You take everything out on Dean. You make him feel like crap all the time. You never tell him you’re proud of him, or that you love him, or that he did a good job or anything. You just yell at him, especially when you’re mad at me. Sam was thirteen when he wrote that.
We Must Have Looked Like Freaks (poem)
Open Your Eyes: When Dean gets hurt on a hunt, John will do whatever it takes to save him.
"I uh … I think I’m hit, Dad," Dean managed a little shakily. John stopped what he was doing. He came over, knelt down; all business, no emotion, when he asked, "Where?" Dean looked at him, blinked again to stay focused. "I’m a … not … not really sure." He held out the bloody hand, saying, "I’m … I’m bleeding, though. So I guess that … I think … maybe … I think I must be hit."
Living Inside the Box: Never give up; never surrender.
John had to give it to the soulless bastard: this fear demon certainly knew its shit. Knew exactly what he was afraid of, knew exactly how to put him in the worst of all possible scenarios. Part 1 Part 2
SERIES TIMEFRAME:
The Mark of Cain: (In the Beginning) Are you sure what came back was 100% John?
Panic twisted through me as I struggled upright, looked around and found the body of her father lying nearby. Samuel. I could see the mark of Azazel on his now-rotting flesh, smell the stench of Azazel in the cloying weight of the air that surrounded us. "Mary?" I said again, suddenly afraid for her, suddenly terrified of everything I might have brought down upon her as the mortal for whom I’d fallen in the act of loving.
His Own Private Forever: (Post Pilot). Every time he closes his eyes, he sees her. (drabble)
Real Men Don't Wear Pantyhose: If you want to catch an incubus, you have to have the right bait.
"You’re supposed to be a girl, Dean. Girls don’t sit with their knees like this." Sam demonstrated his point with an over-exaggerated splay of knees that -- while it wasn’t an entirely inaccurate mimicry of Dean’s earlier posture -- made him look like an idiot.
Bruised: (Post Asylum). "You pulled the trigger, dude. I can't believe you pulled the trigger."
Non-Believer: (Faith). Dean doesn't have to take it on faith. (drabble)
Like Riding a Bike: (Faith). John gets Sammy's call.
Five dead children and John Winchester is no closer to the demon than he was a week ago. He hasn’t slept in almost three days. He hasn’t showered in over a week. The desk clerk gives him a look as he signs the register that - coming from a man who works the nightshift in some crap ass motel in the middle of nowhere - is twice the insult it might otherwise be.
Situational Ethics (Faith). "Not really a miracle, John. More of a travesty." (drabble)
Mysterious Ways: (Post Faith). Dean visits Layla's grave.
"I knew you’d come eventually," she said. "I’m not sure how I did, but I knew." When he didn’t turn to face her, Mrs. Roarke came around to face him. She’d aged a dozen years in the seven months since he’d seen her last. She seemed weary now, rather than driven. Exhausted rather than obsessed.
A Special Kind of Hell Trilogy (Devil's Trap)
Slaying Dragons: There's a special kind of hell reserved for men who let their children down.
Slaying Demons: There's a special kind of hell reserved for sons who let their father's down.
Saving Dean: There's a special kind of hell reserved for brothers who let their heroes down.
The Sound of Silence: (Post Devil's Trap). The sound of silence is what you hear, and that's what you'll remember later.
When Mary Smiles: (Post Devil's Trap). Her smile is what he's forgotten. Seeing it is coming home again. (drabble)
Hold On: (Post Devil's Trap). Dean's dying. John won't let him go. (drabble)
The Hunt No More: (Post Devil's Trap). (poem)
The Compromise: (In My Time of Dying). Life is compromise. (drabble)
Accountability: (In My Time of Dying). The truck driver needs to make his peace.
Karl Buckman had been driving a big rig since he was eighteen, and he’d never even had so much as a speeding ticket until now. For the life of him, he didn’t know how this could have happened, how things could have gone so horribly wrong that he’d have no memory of the accident at all, only of waking up on his knees in the wet grass, staring at the mangled wreck of a ’67 black Impala and the bloody bodies inside.
Darkness Falls: (Everybody Loves a Clown). The darkness came on him unexpectedly. (drabble)
Bless Me, Father: (Everybody Loves a Clown). Grieving John, Dean dreams of an old friend.
"Bless me, Father, for I am totally fucked up."
Pastor Jim chuckled from behind the loose weave of a screen that looked more like lattice under a raised porch than anything that ought exist within the sanctified confines of a confessional. "You do realize I’m not Catholic, right?" he asked grinning.
Stories Told: (No Exit). Ellen's lying.
When Ellen started speaking, John felt himself turning the room cold. It wasn’t an intentional response; just the way things happened when spirits got pissed in the shadow-lives they lived, watching things they could no longer be a part of, feeling things they could no longer communicate, loving people they could no longer help.
Stories Re-Told: (Post No Exit). Dean knows Ellen's lying. (sequel to Stories Told)
"I want to go in and hear it for myself," Dean insisted. "I want her to look me in the eyes and lie to me about him." He started toward the Roadhouse again, his stride lengthening with every step.
"No, Dean. Don’t." John was walking backwards in front of Dean, trying to reach him, trying to get through the build of anger in his son’s expression. "Don’t do this. Don’t go in there. Don’t let her lie to you about this. Please don’t let her do that to me."
On Failing: A father's greatest failure can also be his greatest success. (drabble)
Breaking Rules: (Crossroad Blues). Dean doesn't play by the rules. (drabble)
It Breaks Me (poem)
Revisionist History: (The Usual Suspects). A death omen portends death.
Diana sprinkled Epson’s salt over Claire’s desiccated corpse, hoping either that or the Morton’s she’d just emptied over the bones would be the right kind of salt to accomplish that "putting to rest" thing Sam mentioned. Salting bones. What a ridiculous thing for a cop to be doing on the bad side of town in the middle of the night. But better safe than sorry, was her motto. Because seriously, the last thing she needed was Claire coming back to haunt her for the next thirty years. That stupid bitch had been enough trouble when she was alive.
Vendetta: (Nightshifter). Special Agent Victor Henriksen has a very good reason to hate Dean Winchester. A very personal reason.
Collateral Damage: (Post Nightshifter). Killing monsters looks easier than it is.
"Yeah," Dean said into the mirror, watching his own eyes as he spoke but seeing someone else in their reflection. "That’s me, baby. One of the good guys."
In the Line of Duty: (Post Nightshifter). Special Agents Solo and Ryan make a condolence call to Ronnie Reznick's parents.
"I know this is a little hard to swallow, Mr. Reznick," Dean said, keeping his voice as coldly detached as possible. "But short of having the President call you himself, I’m not sure what else I can do to convince you I’m dead serious here." The older man glared at Dean like he was so full of shit his eyes were brown. Dean might have resented it more if ninety-eight percent of what he’d just told the man hadn’t been pure, one hundred percent bullshit.
The Unspoken: (Pre-All Hell Breaks Loose). John isn't gone, and Dean knows it. (since been Kripked, so technically AU now)
He'd been with them for months now. Dean sensed it at odd times. Usually in the still; often in the quiet that came after blood. He thought it was grief at first - nothing more than just simple need - but he realized now it was something more. And perhaps he’d known as much since the beginning.
Leave No Man Behind: (Post No Rest for the Wicked). There's not a chance in hell John Winchester is going to sit still while his son rots in the pit. Watch out, boys. Here comes Johnny ...
He came into being as a lion comes into his own: an embodiment of ferocity made flesh, a defiance of wrath put to form. The ground underfoot resonated with a rolling grumble so low it took on the flavor of angry surf as his soul coalesced from nothing, motion without form until he strode into existence, joining Castiel from ten yards out the way one combatant joins another in a grapple to the end. "You!" His eyes burned with the fire of the heavens put to turmoil. His expression was the measured fury of a father put to the task of managing a cherished child’s willful disobedience. "You’re the angel He calls Castiel?"
POST-SERIES:
To Everything A Season: A little piece of good advice: Never hunt a wendigo when you're drunk. (full length novel, caution: unfinished WIP)
He walked into the café because it had red checkered curtains. He had no idea why that mattered, but it seemed to. There were maybe twenty people in the place, all told; and every one of those twenty sets of eyes followed him from the front door to a booth near the kitchen in the back. Several kept watch over him even well after he’d settled to the slick red vinyl; a slow, cautious process that turned out, in the end, to be as much a controlled collapse as it was a settling in. Whether they were curious, suspicious, or simply leery of anyone they didn’t recognize from their own local gene pool, he couldn’t tell; but it was clear every one of them knew him for what he was: a stranger.
Small towns. Gotta love em.
AU OR CRACK!FIC:
Replacing Mary: What if John had remarried?
Take Care of Sammy: You see, the thing is, I kinda pulled him from a fire when we were younger. And every since then, I've felt responsible for him.
The Shine: John isn't what he's always seemed.
He’d counted on Mary being his for life, so it burned him beyond anger, beyond rage to have her ripped away from him like that, like she was nothing more than a sacrificial pawn in their fucking stratagems for recruiting power to one side or the other. Losing her is what made him a player - a true player - in this game they wouldn’t let him sit out. Losing her is what made him play with the ferocity of a man who had nothing more to lose because, in truth, he had nothing more to lose.
On His Own: There are times he can almost remember … but not. It scares him. Makes him feel lost and alone. Makes him feel crazy. (drabble)