"A better tomorrow" (Supernatural)
Title: A better tomorrow
Fandom(s): Supernatural
Characters: John Winchester. Sam Winchester. Dean Winchester.
Pairing(s): Gen
Rating: G
Summary: John Winchester is a good hunter. Ask anyone. But only a few people knew that he was so much more than that. He was just waiting for a better tomorrow.
Genre: Angst. Hurt and no comfort.
Warnings: Mentions of really brief and really slight child abuse.
Word count: 1519
Author's note: A glimpse at John's thoughts. Because he's an awesome character, very complex and we didn't get enough of him in the show.
Pre-serie and going on until the beginning of season 2.
Disclaimer: Supernatural isn't mine.
A better tomorrow
John is sitting across the table with his wife. His wife. He loves that word. They're all happy. Him, Mary, his two sons. John loves those days, the days he get to spend with his family. It's something they created, Mary and him. It's theirs. He will protect it at all cost. That is his job as a father.
John plays with Dean at football, and takes Sammy up, up, and up with his arms. Ask anyone, they're a perfect family.
Then Sammy turns six months old, John wakes up to smoke, and cries, and fear, and death. And Mary is gone. He doesn't have time to think, one second he is asleep on the couch, the next one he's in Sammy's nursery, looking up, up and up, watching Mary on the ceiling, burning, dying. One second he is a happy husband and father and the next one he's a widow.
They're a broken family now, ask anyone.
John learns of hunting, and monsters and weapons. He learns of this new, awful world. He lost his wife, but he won't lose anyone else, not ever again. So he trains, he trains harder than he's ever done before. Not even while he was in the marines. He's at war now. Just a different one. He's dragging his kids into this life. He knows it. He knows he's stealing their childhood. It's breaking his heart. Every time he places a gun in his sons' hands. Every time he shouts at them, ordering them, hurting them. Every time he has to leave them alone. He doesn't remember how it was like to not have his heart destroyed. But he has to train them, he has to prepare them. He won't lose anyone. Not ever again.
John and Mary used to have this game they loved to play, before they were husband and wife. It was a game played by thousands of other people. They used to lay on the grass in a very lovely park. And there, they told each other what their tomorrow will be like. What their dreamed, and perfect tomorrow will be like. Nothing was too much. Nothing was impossible. It was right there that they planned their future together. See John and Mary had this game they used to play. It was a simple game, played by thousands of other people. They can't play it together anymore.
When John watches his two sons, learning to be hunters, learning to be tough, and put aside their feelings and dreams of another kind of life. He plays that game again. Only this time it's a little bit different. He plays at a better tomorrow. A better tomorrow is when the evil son of a bitch who destroyed them is dead. A better tomorrow is when he can give his children a home. A true home, like before. A better tomorrow is when he can be their father again. God, sometimes he forgets what it's like to be a father.
This new game he plays helps him get through a lot of things. When he has to reset Dean's shoulder for the first time. And after Dean tells him “See Dad, I didn't cry, I'm getting tough like you”. Dean, who follows him everywhere, Dean, who obeys, and never complains, Dean, who is 9 and should be at school, learning about calculus and history and making friends. So John thinks, I will give you a better tomorrow, and there will be no pain, no dislocated shoulders, no weapons.
Sammy is 12, and beginning to show the first signs of rebellion. John pushes him, pushes so hard, he tries to make him fall in line, tries to make him his little soldier. Sammy hates it, John knows that. But of the two it's not Sam who's hurt the most. John wishes he could tell him about his better tomorrow. About all the things he will teach him that are not related to hunting. He wants to say:
“I'm so proud of you son, you are so smart, and kind, and enough.”
But instead he just says:
“Forget about school, you need to be prepared. Train harder.”
Because he won't lose anyone, not ever again.
John hates this life. The other hunters he crosses path with all tell him the same thing:
“You're a natural, you were born to be a hunter man. You're good at it.”
Every time he hears that he drinks, drinks and drinks. Because he doesn't want to be good at it. Because once upon a time he was good at being a father. And a husband. And the shadow of the man he once was won't leave him alone. Won't stop haunting him. It's the kind of haunting that salt and burn can't fix. So he drinks. And he's hard on his kids.
One day he's so drunk he hurts Sam without meaning too. He's just so broken, and lost. And Sam at 14 is so stubborn, and just keep on pushing him. It's too late, he punched him. He punched his kid. He's out of the motel room in a heartbeat, but not fast enough to not see Sammy's expression on his face. He sees betrayal, and hurt, and pain, and anger. That night, John is looking at the sky, praying to Mary for forgiveness. But dead people can't forgive.
Later Dean talks to him, fury in his eyes, he didn't know he could do wrong by his son like that. Dean, the perfect little soldier. Dean who tells him that if he ever does something like that again he will take Sam and never return. John thought that only fire could destroyed their family. He was wrong. But then again he thinks alcohol is a fire of another kind, just slower. John stops drinking for a month after that. No one ever talks about the incident ever again.
Dean is 22, a fine, good hunter. Just like him. John did a good job on him. He doesn't know if he wants to laugh or cry or shoot himself in the leg for what he's done. But he has other things to be worried about, because Sam is eighteen, eighteen and with an admission letter in his hand. Stanford.
Everything is crumbling down. He can't protect Sammy in Stanford. He can't get him out of the fire if he is so far away. So he does the only thing he's good at. He gets mad. And screams and tells his son awful things. But screaming isn't what he wants to do. He wants to look his rebellious son in the eye and tell him about their better tomorrow. He wants to make him understand that they all need to stick together, to protect each other. He wants to tell him how the idea of him or Dean hurt and alone terrifies him. That's why he's so hard on them. But instead he says:
“If you walk out that door don't bother coming back”.
Because today is not a better tomorrow, not yet. Today he just lost a son. Silence, nothing but silence fills the room. He sees his two sons looking at each other. Silent conversation. They're good at that. The art of talking without even saying a word. For a second he's afraid he's going to lose them both. Because Dean always took care of Sammy. Because he's been ordering him to do so his entire life. Almost. But then Dean surprises him and stays. Because in the end he's a good little soldier. And John hates himself more for making him one. He watches Sam take a bag he already had ready from the room and walk out the door.
John Winchester doesn't know it, but he won't be seeing his youngest son for a long, long time.
They're all in the hospital, hurt. A car accident. It was fucking car accident. Except nothing is ever that simple. He puts his pain aside, because Dean needs him. Dean, who is dying. Dying. Oh god, he can't let Dean die. He thinks Please, not ever again. So he makes a deal, a stupid, stupid deal. Winchesters are good at being stupid, ask anyone.
Later, John is on an hospital bed, he knows what's next to come. He says goodbye to his children without them realizing that they will see him alive for the last time.
He closes his eyes and thinks I never got my better tomorrow...
Fandom(s): Supernatural
Characters: John Winchester. Sam Winchester. Dean Winchester.
Pairing(s): Gen
Rating: G
Summary: John Winchester is a good hunter. Ask anyone. But only a few people knew that he was so much more than that. He was just waiting for a better tomorrow.
Genre: Angst. Hurt and no comfort.
Warnings: Mentions of really brief and really slight child abuse.
Word count: 1519
Author's note: A glimpse at John's thoughts. Because he's an awesome character, very complex and we didn't get enough of him in the show.
Pre-serie and going on until the beginning of season 2.
Disclaimer: Supernatural isn't mine.
A better tomorrow
John is sitting across the table with his wife. His wife. He loves that word. They're all happy. Him, Mary, his two sons. John loves those days, the days he get to spend with his family. It's something they created, Mary and him. It's theirs. He will protect it at all cost. That is his job as a father.
John plays with Dean at football, and takes Sammy up, up, and up with his arms. Ask anyone, they're a perfect family.
Then Sammy turns six months old, John wakes up to smoke, and cries, and fear, and death. And Mary is gone. He doesn't have time to think, one second he is asleep on the couch, the next one he's in Sammy's nursery, looking up, up and up, watching Mary on the ceiling, burning, dying. One second he is a happy husband and father and the next one he's a widow.
They're a broken family now, ask anyone.
John learns of hunting, and monsters and weapons. He learns of this new, awful world. He lost his wife, but he won't lose anyone else, not ever again. So he trains, he trains harder than he's ever done before. Not even while he was in the marines. He's at war now. Just a different one. He's dragging his kids into this life. He knows it. He knows he's stealing their childhood. It's breaking his heart. Every time he places a gun in his sons' hands. Every time he shouts at them, ordering them, hurting them. Every time he has to leave them alone. He doesn't remember how it was like to not have his heart destroyed. But he has to train them, he has to prepare them. He won't lose anyone. Not ever again.
John and Mary used to have this game they loved to play, before they were husband and wife. It was a game played by thousands of other people. They used to lay on the grass in a very lovely park. And there, they told each other what their tomorrow will be like. What their dreamed, and perfect tomorrow will be like. Nothing was too much. Nothing was impossible. It was right there that they planned their future together. See John and Mary had this game they used to play. It was a simple game, played by thousands of other people. They can't play it together anymore.
When John watches his two sons, learning to be hunters, learning to be tough, and put aside their feelings and dreams of another kind of life. He plays that game again. Only this time it's a little bit different. He plays at a better tomorrow. A better tomorrow is when the evil son of a bitch who destroyed them is dead. A better tomorrow is when he can give his children a home. A true home, like before. A better tomorrow is when he can be their father again. God, sometimes he forgets what it's like to be a father.
This new game he plays helps him get through a lot of things. When he has to reset Dean's shoulder for the first time. And after Dean tells him “See Dad, I didn't cry, I'm getting tough like you”. Dean, who follows him everywhere, Dean, who obeys, and never complains, Dean, who is 9 and should be at school, learning about calculus and history and making friends. So John thinks, I will give you a better tomorrow, and there will be no pain, no dislocated shoulders, no weapons.
Sammy is 12, and beginning to show the first signs of rebellion. John pushes him, pushes so hard, he tries to make him fall in line, tries to make him his little soldier. Sammy hates it, John knows that. But of the two it's not Sam who's hurt the most. John wishes he could tell him about his better tomorrow. About all the things he will teach him that are not related to hunting. He wants to say:
“I'm so proud of you son, you are so smart, and kind, and enough.”
But instead he just says:
“Forget about school, you need to be prepared. Train harder.”
Because he won't lose anyone, not ever again.
John hates this life. The other hunters he crosses path with all tell him the same thing:
“You're a natural, you were born to be a hunter man. You're good at it.”
Every time he hears that he drinks, drinks and drinks. Because he doesn't want to be good at it. Because once upon a time he was good at being a father. And a husband. And the shadow of the man he once was won't leave him alone. Won't stop haunting him. It's the kind of haunting that salt and burn can't fix. So he drinks. And he's hard on his kids.
One day he's so drunk he hurts Sam without meaning too. He's just so broken, and lost. And Sam at 14 is so stubborn, and just keep on pushing him. It's too late, he punched him. He punched his kid. He's out of the motel room in a heartbeat, but not fast enough to not see Sammy's expression on his face. He sees betrayal, and hurt, and pain, and anger. That night, John is looking at the sky, praying to Mary for forgiveness. But dead people can't forgive.
Later Dean talks to him, fury in his eyes, he didn't know he could do wrong by his son like that. Dean, the perfect little soldier. Dean who tells him that if he ever does something like that again he will take Sam and never return. John thought that only fire could destroyed their family. He was wrong. But then again he thinks alcohol is a fire of another kind, just slower. John stops drinking for a month after that. No one ever talks about the incident ever again.
Dean is 22, a fine, good hunter. Just like him. John did a good job on him. He doesn't know if he wants to laugh or cry or shoot himself in the leg for what he's done. But he has other things to be worried about, because Sam is eighteen, eighteen and with an admission letter in his hand. Stanford.
Everything is crumbling down. He can't protect Sammy in Stanford. He can't get him out of the fire if he is so far away. So he does the only thing he's good at. He gets mad. And screams and tells his son awful things. But screaming isn't what he wants to do. He wants to look his rebellious son in the eye and tell him about their better tomorrow. He wants to make him understand that they all need to stick together, to protect each other. He wants to tell him how the idea of him or Dean hurt and alone terrifies him. That's why he's so hard on them. But instead he says:
“If you walk out that door don't bother coming back”.
Because today is not a better tomorrow, not yet. Today he just lost a son. Silence, nothing but silence fills the room. He sees his two sons looking at each other. Silent conversation. They're good at that. The art of talking without even saying a word. For a second he's afraid he's going to lose them both. Because Dean always took care of Sammy. Because he's been ordering him to do so his entire life. Almost. But then Dean surprises him and stays. Because in the end he's a good little soldier. And John hates himself more for making him one. He watches Sam take a bag he already had ready from the room and walk out the door.
John Winchester doesn't know it, but he won't be seeing his youngest son for a long, long time.
They're all in the hospital, hurt. A car accident. It was fucking car accident. Except nothing is ever that simple. He puts his pain aside, because Dean needs him. Dean, who is dying. Dying. Oh god, he can't let Dean die. He thinks Please, not ever again. So he makes a deal, a stupid, stupid deal. Winchesters are good at being stupid, ask anyone.
Later, John is on an hospital bed, he knows what's next to come. He says goodbye to his children without them realizing that they will see him alive for the last time.
He closes his eyes and thinks I never got my better tomorrow...