Unforgiven
Author's Note: So this idea popped into my head after talking with faceted_mind and I just started writing. Not sure what I think of the results but I'm going to share it anyways, so I hope you enjoy!
Title: Unforgiven
Show: Supernatural
Rating: PG
Genre: Angst
Characters: John, Dean [age 8] Sammy [age 4]
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from Supernatural
Summary: John looks at the life he's brought his sons into, at the responsibility he's placed on Dean's shoulders and wonders if Mary could ever forgive him.
-Can you forgive me?-
John had asked Mary's forgiveness hundreds of times since the night of her death, since his eyes had been opened and he'd dragged their children into this life. He wondered sometimes if she ever could forgive him; she'd known from the moment they'd met that he was a man driven by his goals. Why would her death be any different?
-Do you hate me?-
John wouldn't have blamed Mary if she did. At times he hated himself. When John looked into the rear view mirror and saw those large green eyes staring resolutely ahead John hated himself. He could see the weight of responsibility weighing Dean down. He hadn't meant for it to happen, the order had been nothing but a reflex reaction.
"Take your brother outside!"
Protecting his children; it's what any father would have done. But somewhere along the way it became the only thing that kept Dean going. It had become a mantra of sorts, the words 'Protect Sammy' falling from his lips more often than anything else; more than questions like 'Are you alright?' or 'How was school?'
-I screwed up-
John was willing to admit that but only to Mary. He'd done what he had too to keep his family alive. Did that absolve him? No, he didn't expect to be. But his children remained safe, Dean watched out for Sammy and they learned what it took to stay alive. What more could a parent ask for?
-I know, I know, they should have had a childhood-
John had thought that more than once as he lead the boys into yet another run down cabin hidden from the beaten path. He darkly reassured himself that they didn't know any different. Dean might have remembered some things, but he never spoke of it at least not where John could hear.
Taking the time to secure the cabin as he did every roof they slept under; John lined the doors and windows with thick lines of salt. He used white chalk to etch protection charms above the headboards of the beds, his lips twisting in a disgusted smile.
-Some protection I've given them, they're soldier. At the age of 8 and 4...-
John told himself it was better to be aware and prepared than dead; but it wasn't much comfort. He hated the look he saw in Dean's eyes; the single mindedness of his son's actions. John forced himself to use it, to drive his son and it worked every time. There was nothing Dean wouldn't do for his family no limit to how much of himself he'd give; even now John could see it.
-Will he be able to forgive me?-
John silently asked his wife; as he watched Dean tucking Sammy into his bed before crawling up beside him. That was Dean's world lying there, John had fostered that mentality, encouraged it even. Whatever it took, he was going to keep his boys alive.
-They're all that's left of you-
Thanks for reading!
Title: Unforgiven
Show: Supernatural
Rating: PG
Genre: Angst
Characters: John, Dean [age 8] Sammy [age 4]
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from Supernatural
Summary: John looks at the life he's brought his sons into, at the responsibility he's placed on Dean's shoulders and wonders if Mary could ever forgive him.
-Can you forgive me?-
John had asked Mary's forgiveness hundreds of times since the night of her death, since his eyes had been opened and he'd dragged their children into this life. He wondered sometimes if she ever could forgive him; she'd known from the moment they'd met that he was a man driven by his goals. Why would her death be any different?
-Do you hate me?-
John wouldn't have blamed Mary if she did. At times he hated himself. When John looked into the rear view mirror and saw those large green eyes staring resolutely ahead John hated himself. He could see the weight of responsibility weighing Dean down. He hadn't meant for it to happen, the order had been nothing but a reflex reaction.
"Take your brother outside!"
Protecting his children; it's what any father would have done. But somewhere along the way it became the only thing that kept Dean going. It had become a mantra of sorts, the words 'Protect Sammy' falling from his lips more often than anything else; more than questions like 'Are you alright?' or 'How was school?'
-I screwed up-
John was willing to admit that but only to Mary. He'd done what he had too to keep his family alive. Did that absolve him? No, he didn't expect to be. But his children remained safe, Dean watched out for Sammy and they learned what it took to stay alive. What more could a parent ask for?
-I know, I know, they should have had a childhood-
John had thought that more than once as he lead the boys into yet another run down cabin hidden from the beaten path. He darkly reassured himself that they didn't know any different. Dean might have remembered some things, but he never spoke of it at least not where John could hear.
Taking the time to secure the cabin as he did every roof they slept under; John lined the doors and windows with thick lines of salt. He used white chalk to etch protection charms above the headboards of the beds, his lips twisting in a disgusted smile.
-Some protection I've given them, they're soldier. At the age of 8 and 4...-
John told himself it was better to be aware and prepared than dead; but it wasn't much comfort. He hated the look he saw in Dean's eyes; the single mindedness of his son's actions. John forced himself to use it, to drive his son and it worked every time. There was nothing Dean wouldn't do for his family no limit to how much of himself he'd give; even now John could see it.
-Will he be able to forgive me?-
John silently asked his wife; as he watched Dean tucking Sammy into his bed before crawling up beside him. That was Dean's world lying there, John had fostered that mentality, encouraged it even. Whatever it took, he was going to keep his boys alive.
-They're all that's left of you-
Thanks for reading!