Old Wounds
Title: Old Wounds
Author: LaughtersMelody
Rating: G
Fandom: Supernatural
Disclaimer:
Genre: Angst/Family
Pairing: Mention of John/Mary
Type: One-shot, companion piece to Mending.
Spoilers: Minor spoilers for the Pilot.
Characters: John
Secondary Characters: Bobby
Summary: Father's Day was never a good day for the Winchesters. This one was no different. Set pre-series. John POV.
A/N: I wasn't originally planning to write a companion piece, but the comments I got on Mending inspired me. :) It's from John's POV, and it takes place just before he shows up at the motel.
Again, bhoney, I hope you enjoy it! You're in my prayers!
As always, I thank my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, who is the source of all inspiration.
~*~*~*~*~
Old Wounds
Father's Day.
For John Winchester, the day ranked up there with Mary's birthday, their anniversary…Mother's Day.
It didn't compare to November 2nd, but he hoped nothing ever did.
That didn't make the day any easier.
It hadn't always been this way.
The first Father's Day he'd spent as a dad…well, he'd known that Mary had been hiding something for a couple weeks - he'd seen the secretive smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, that spark of mischief in her eyes.
She'd waited until Father's Day to tell him what was going on.
Mary was pregnant.
It didn't matter that they'd need to buy a house, and that his job at the garage barely paid enough to cover the bills as it was - he'd never been happier in his life.
He'd always looked forward to Father's Day after that. He remembered holding a five-month-old Dean in his arms, staring down in amazement as his son stared right back. He remembered Dean sitting in a high chair, grinning as he reached up with sticky, chocolate-covered hands, babbling "Da!" over and over again as he demanded to be picked up. He remembered the first crayon drawing Dean had given him on Father's Day morning, his then three-year-old son proudly holding up the crinkled piece of paper for his inspection. He remembered when Sam came along the next year, his beautiful, curious, happy, baby boy, and how he'd thought that life could only get better from there.
But then, Mary was gone, and the next Father's Day had been spent in painful silence.
The silence had mostly faded; the pain hadn't. Now, every Father's Day was a stark reminder of that. And this year…this year was worse, because Dean was hurt.
John sighed, and ran a weary hand over his face. At least it was only his leg.
Only his leg? the father in him retorted. You mean the leg that was broken in three places and needed surgery?
It could have been worse, John, the hunter, answered silently. For a few, heart-stopping seconds after the wendigo had thrown Dean, he thought it had been.
But Dean would heal. It would take some time, but he'd be okay. John didn't have any reason to feel guilty about wanting to leave.
Just keep telling yourself that, that internal voice scoffed.
It was always louder on Father's Day.
He reached over to the empty passenger seat of his truck, picked up his cell phone, and dialed a familiar number. The answer was almost immediate.
"Bobby, it's me," John began.
"Winchester," the older hunter replied gruffly. "Hello to you too."
He ignored the pointed sarcasm. "I'm in Michigan. I was wondering if you've got anything for me close by."
"You forget how to read a newspaper?"
"Been busy. Do you have anything?" he asked again.
Bobby's resigned sigh carried over the phone. "The boys gonna be with you, or are you going solo?"
"Solo. Dean's hurt."
"Hurt?" Worry made the question sharp. "What happened? How bad is it?"
"A hunt last week, wendigo threw him into a tree. Broke his leg. Doc says it will be a few months before he's back on his feet."
Bobby's curse wasn't a surprise. "That boy's gonna be climbing the walls, if he ain't already."
"Yeah." Bobby was right, John knew. His oldest son hated sitting still. Always had.
There was a pause.
"Why are you looking for another hunt so soon, if Dean's outta commission?"
None of your business, John almost growled. "Figured I might as well get some work done," he answered aloud. "Dean'll be okay. Sam's with him."
As long as his boys had each other, they'd be fine.
The disapproving silence on the other end of the line spoke volumes. "You're an idjit, Winchester," Bobby said finally.
John ignored that too. "Will you help me or not?"
"You're leaving no matter what I say, aren't ya?" Bobby demanded. "Fine." Papers rustled in the background. "Got a tip from another hunter. She was too far away to take the case, but says there's been three deaths up in Crawford. Sounds like it might be a vengeful spirit. That good enough for you?" Anger filled every word.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'll take it."
"Tell the boys I'll be callin' in a couple days to check up on 'em."
The dial tone sounded in John's ear.
John stared at his phone for a moment before he closed it, and tossed in back into the passenger seat. Then, he reached down to turn the ignition, glanced at the mirror, and pulled into traffic. He'd head to the store first and get some groceries, make sure the boys would be set for a few days after he left, just in case.
The "Happy Father's Day" signs on the shops downtown mocked him as he drove.
John Winchester loved his sons, and he'd done his best, but his best wasn't good enough. He couldn't face that, couldn't face his boys. Not today.
Coward, the father in him whispered.
John didn't even try to disagree.
Fin
~*~*~*~*~
A/N: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it, and please let me know what you think!
A/N2: On an interesting note, considering that Dean was born on January 24th, it actually is possible that Mary told John she was pregnant on Father's Day in June. :)
Take care and God bless!
-Laughter
Author: LaughtersMelody
Rating: G
Fandom: Supernatural
Disclaimer:
Genre: Angst/Family
Pairing: Mention of John/Mary
Type: One-shot, companion piece to Mending.
Spoilers: Minor spoilers for the Pilot.
Characters: John
Secondary Characters: Bobby
Summary: Father's Day was never a good day for the Winchesters. This one was no different. Set pre-series. John POV.
A/N: I wasn't originally planning to write a companion piece, but the comments I got on Mending inspired me. :) It's from John's POV, and it takes place just before he shows up at the motel.
Again, bhoney, I hope you enjoy it! You're in my prayers!
As always, I thank my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ, who is the source of all inspiration.
~*~*~*~*~
Old Wounds
Father's Day.
For John Winchester, the day ranked up there with Mary's birthday, their anniversary…Mother's Day.
It didn't compare to November 2nd, but he hoped nothing ever did.
That didn't make the day any easier.
It hadn't always been this way.
The first Father's Day he'd spent as a dad…well, he'd known that Mary had been hiding something for a couple weeks - he'd seen the secretive smile tugging at the corner of her mouth, that spark of mischief in her eyes.
She'd waited until Father's Day to tell him what was going on.
Mary was pregnant.
It didn't matter that they'd need to buy a house, and that his job at the garage barely paid enough to cover the bills as it was - he'd never been happier in his life.
He'd always looked forward to Father's Day after that. He remembered holding a five-month-old Dean in his arms, staring down in amazement as his son stared right back. He remembered Dean sitting in a high chair, grinning as he reached up with sticky, chocolate-covered hands, babbling "Da!" over and over again as he demanded to be picked up. He remembered the first crayon drawing Dean had given him on Father's Day morning, his then three-year-old son proudly holding up the crinkled piece of paper for his inspection. He remembered when Sam came along the next year, his beautiful, curious, happy, baby boy, and how he'd thought that life could only get better from there.
But then, Mary was gone, and the next Father's Day had been spent in painful silence.
The silence had mostly faded; the pain hadn't. Now, every Father's Day was a stark reminder of that. And this year…this year was worse, because Dean was hurt.
John sighed, and ran a weary hand over his face. At least it was only his leg.
Only his leg? the father in him retorted. You mean the leg that was broken in three places and needed surgery?
It could have been worse, John, the hunter, answered silently. For a few, heart-stopping seconds after the wendigo had thrown Dean, he thought it had been.
But Dean would heal. It would take some time, but he'd be okay. John didn't have any reason to feel guilty about wanting to leave.
Just keep telling yourself that, that internal voice scoffed.
It was always louder on Father's Day.
He reached over to the empty passenger seat of his truck, picked up his cell phone, and dialed a familiar number. The answer was almost immediate.
"Bobby, it's me," John began.
"Winchester," the older hunter replied gruffly. "Hello to you too."
He ignored the pointed sarcasm. "I'm in Michigan. I was wondering if you've got anything for me close by."
"You forget how to read a newspaper?"
"Been busy. Do you have anything?" he asked again.
Bobby's resigned sigh carried over the phone. "The boys gonna be with you, or are you going solo?"
"Solo. Dean's hurt."
"Hurt?" Worry made the question sharp. "What happened? How bad is it?"
"A hunt last week, wendigo threw him into a tree. Broke his leg. Doc says it will be a few months before he's back on his feet."
Bobby's curse wasn't a surprise. "That boy's gonna be climbing the walls, if he ain't already."
"Yeah." Bobby was right, John knew. His oldest son hated sitting still. Always had.
There was a pause.
"Why are you looking for another hunt so soon, if Dean's outta commission?"
None of your business, John almost growled. "Figured I might as well get some work done," he answered aloud. "Dean'll be okay. Sam's with him."
As long as his boys had each other, they'd be fine.
The disapproving silence on the other end of the line spoke volumes. "You're an idjit, Winchester," Bobby said finally.
John ignored that too. "Will you help me or not?"
"You're leaving no matter what I say, aren't ya?" Bobby demanded. "Fine." Papers rustled in the background. "Got a tip from another hunter. She was too far away to take the case, but says there's been three deaths up in Crawford. Sounds like it might be a vengeful spirit. That good enough for you?" Anger filled every word.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'll take it."
"Tell the boys I'll be callin' in a couple days to check up on 'em."
The dial tone sounded in John's ear.
John stared at his phone for a moment before he closed it, and tossed in back into the passenger seat. Then, he reached down to turn the ignition, glanced at the mirror, and pulled into traffic. He'd head to the store first and get some groceries, make sure the boys would be set for a few days after he left, just in case.
The "Happy Father's Day" signs on the shops downtown mocked him as he drove.
John Winchester loved his sons, and he'd done his best, but his best wasn't good enough. He couldn't face that, couldn't face his boys. Not today.
Coward, the father in him whispered.
John didn't even try to disagree.
Fin
~*~*~*~*~
A/N: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it, and please let me know what you think!
A/N2: On an interesting note, considering that Dean was born on January 24th, it actually is possible that Mary told John she was pregnant on Father's Day in June. :)
Take care and God bless!
-Laughter