Supernatural - Children (John Winchester)
John reflects on his sons after reading something no father wants to see.
Set immediately after Skin (episode six), brief spoilers pretty much through to eleven.
As a man who read the newspapers religiously, he learned about Dean's death the same morning the story was reported.
About half an hour later, not after he was done reading, but after he'd finished the article and sat there staring at the screen, it occurred to him that he wasn't that shocked. Because it had been Dean.
Dean was strong, smart enough, capable--a good soldier; a good son--but he couldn't work alone, not for long. He'd always known how to handle himself in a group, but he needed that group, needed family, in the first place. Dean was at least aware of that fact, though, which was better than nothing; in John's opinion, if a flaw couldn't be fixed, then being aware of what it was in order to divert enemy attention away from it was the next best thing.
It hadn't surprised him to learn that only a few days after he'd gone, leaving behind enough clues for Dean to understand what he was to do but not nearly enough to be tracked by, he'd gone to find Sam. It was the need for family, the need to not be alone.
John had driven thousands and thousands of miles of road, worn out two cars and more radios, with no one to talk to other than two boys, two teenagers, one man--he could understand. The fighting Dean could survive, but not the empty, angry, tiring hours on the road. Not alone.
It was the same reason he could almost believe the article, even when the details were jumbled and contradictory--most of that the main witness's fault, since her story had changed after the first statement she'd given police; now she doubted that Sam had been there at all, said that it might have been another lookalike the way Dean had managed to look like the suspect that things had started with. It had clearly been a shapeshifter; but whether it was dead or the body was really Dean and the shifter was still out there, he couldn't tell, not from the article and the previous news.
It was possible it was really Dean, if Sam had left again at some point, returned to that past of his which had nothing to do with family, the past hinted at in the way the main witness referred to him. Sam was the one that could live on his own; John had known that long before he'd left for college. Sam was the one who disobeyed him because he didn't need that family structure Dean did to feel like something in the whole insane world was right. If Sam had left again. . . .
He recognized the possibility that not only was Dean dead but Sam as well and the shapeshifter was walking around as him, but didn't dwell on it. It was hard to think of losing both his sons at once.
John finally bookmarked the article to follow up later, talked himself out of the urge to contact them, and went on to the next county's papers.
~
He had tabbed the urban legends situation, but he'd been devoting more attention to stories of werewolves in the Rockies--a false alarm, one he'd expected because the terrain was all wrong--and so didn't get back to it until it had been taken care of.
His throat constricted when he read the side note in the police report stating that two men who'd claimed to be brothers had fled town before the fraternity house they'd been staying at learned that they weren't transfers. Another month and a few jobs, and he was certain that it was them; and then Dean left a message on his voicemail.
He sent them the coordinates for the asylum not only because he was still busy gathering information on the demon while trying not to attract its attention, but just to make sure; a rare moment of absurdity for him. He knew Dean was alive, he knew Sam was Sam, but there was still that need for confirmation.
And after almost half a year, he called them for the same reason.
"I can't do this alone."
Set immediately after Skin (episode six), brief spoilers pretty much through to eleven.
As a man who read the newspapers religiously, he learned about Dean's death the same morning the story was reported.
About half an hour later, not after he was done reading, but after he'd finished the article and sat there staring at the screen, it occurred to him that he wasn't that shocked. Because it had been Dean.
Dean was strong, smart enough, capable--a good soldier; a good son--but he couldn't work alone, not for long. He'd always known how to handle himself in a group, but he needed that group, needed family, in the first place. Dean was at least aware of that fact, though, which was better than nothing; in John's opinion, if a flaw couldn't be fixed, then being aware of what it was in order to divert enemy attention away from it was the next best thing.
It hadn't surprised him to learn that only a few days after he'd gone, leaving behind enough clues for Dean to understand what he was to do but not nearly enough to be tracked by, he'd gone to find Sam. It was the need for family, the need to not be alone.
John had driven thousands and thousands of miles of road, worn out two cars and more radios, with no one to talk to other than two boys, two teenagers, one man--he could understand. The fighting Dean could survive, but not the empty, angry, tiring hours on the road. Not alone.
It was the same reason he could almost believe the article, even when the details were jumbled and contradictory--most of that the main witness's fault, since her story had changed after the first statement she'd given police; now she doubted that Sam had been there at all, said that it might have been another lookalike the way Dean had managed to look like the suspect that things had started with. It had clearly been a shapeshifter; but whether it was dead or the body was really Dean and the shifter was still out there, he couldn't tell, not from the article and the previous news.
It was possible it was really Dean, if Sam had left again at some point, returned to that past of his which had nothing to do with family, the past hinted at in the way the main witness referred to him. Sam was the one that could live on his own; John had known that long before he'd left for college. Sam was the one who disobeyed him because he didn't need that family structure Dean did to feel like something in the whole insane world was right. If Sam had left again. . . .
He recognized the possibility that not only was Dean dead but Sam as well and the shapeshifter was walking around as him, but didn't dwell on it. It was hard to think of losing both his sons at once.
John finally bookmarked the article to follow up later, talked himself out of the urge to contact them, and went on to the next county's papers.
~
He had tabbed the urban legends situation, but he'd been devoting more attention to stories of werewolves in the Rockies--a false alarm, one he'd expected because the terrain was all wrong--and so didn't get back to it until it had been taken care of.
His throat constricted when he read the side note in the police report stating that two men who'd claimed to be brothers had fled town before the fraternity house they'd been staying at learned that they weren't transfers. Another month and a few jobs, and he was certain that it was them; and then Dean left a message on his voicemail.
He sent them the coordinates for the asylum not only because he was still busy gathering information on the demon while trying not to attract its attention, but just to make sure; a rare moment of absurdity for him. He knew Dean was alive, he knew Sam was Sam, but there was still that need for confirmation.
And after almost half a year, he called them for the same reason.
"I can't do this alone."