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[gavemea_45]

Vampires. Vampires are real. Man, Andrew is never gonna let us hear the end of this, not to mention that Abby girl and her friend, what's his name, Hannibal.

Dean's gone out on an errand, but that doesn't change the fact that the motel room is small and a little cramped, especially at the moment. As he paces back and forth, Sam keeps darting sideways looks at the table where John Winchester is sitting and working.

Of course, you knew all about them, didn't you, Dad? And even if you thought they were extinct, you still didn't bother telling either me or Dean that they'd existed at all. Just like you didn't mention Daniel Elkins, or the Colt.

The Colt. A gun out of legend, said to have been made in 1835 by Samuel Colt himself while Halley's Comet burned through the sky overhead. A special gun, with thirteen special bullets, made for a mysterious hunter on horseback and used only a handful of times before the man had disappeared and the gun was lost along with him-- until it had turned up in Elkins's possession, and now that of the vampires that had murdered him.

A gun that supposedly can kill anything.

Even a demon.

Would you have even called us if Dean and I hadn't run into you outside of Elkins's place? Would you have told us if you and I hadn't gotten in that fight earlier? Jesus, Dad -- this could finally be it, after all these years! Were you just gonna keep it a secret? What were you thinking?

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[hunter-legend.livejournal.com]

He's actually been wondering what life will be like after.

No, if he's honest (and he tries to be honest with himself; not exactly a lot of other luxuries he gives himself), he's been wondering if there'll be life after. After killing the damn demon son of a bitch.

He wonders what kind of man he is. If he'll just give up after that. If he'll decide, consciously or not, that there's no point to it anymore and just die, or let himself get killed or--

Hell, who knows?

But maybe he's a better kind of man. Had all that killing over the years, all those evil sons of bitches just been something to sharpen his knives on for the main event, or was it helping people that'd kept him going, kept him feeling like what he was doing was more than revenge.

Invariably, his thoughts turn to his sons, to their future. They'll have one. He's sure of that because--

Well, he's sure of it.

But besides that? He doesn't know. And he doesn't know if that's for the best because maybe something like that would distract him. Like all of this is already doing.

Work.

He had work to do. And Dean would be back soon.

[gavemea_45]

He can't stop his restless thoughts, and he can't seem to stop pacing the confines of the room, either. It's too small-- he can cross the floor in three paces, then three paces back again.

More than that, it's too crowded with the two of them in it.

"It shouldn't be taking this long. I should go help."

Sam doesn't look at John as he starts toward the door.

[hunter-legend.livejournal.com]

"Dean’s got it."

Dean. What the hell would Dean do? Sam's might not have his girl anymore, but he had a school and friends and grades and he existed. He was someone. Dean'd been No One professionally for so long that John wondered just where in the sliding scale he fell between Sam and himself.

Not now.

[gavemea_45]

Doesn't it just fucking figure.

Sam hesitates, looking back and forth between his father and the door. He's visibly torn, but then sighs and shoves both hands in his pockets as he turns back toward the center of the room.

Two steps, three, and another turn. And again, looking restlessly around the room, then at the window.

Maybe I could go check the perimeter from the outside--

[hunter-legend.livejournal.com]

Sometimes, I wish he wasn't so smart. Either of them, really. But Sammy's the one who lets it eat at him.

Distract him. Best bet.

"Sammy."

[gavemea_45]

What now?

He stops in the middle of the room, looking at John-- a little warily.

"Yeah?"

[hunter-legend.livejournal.com]

Honesty. That luxury allows himself sometimes. Time he shared a bit with one of his boy.

"I don’t think I ever told you this, but, the day you were born you know what I did?"

He'll never guess. He's pretty sure Sam's decided that John Winchester was born to be a demon hunting drill sergeant whose plan in life was to produce two demon hunting prodigies or something. Or maybe just a drunk.

Maybe a manipulative bastard, well, that wasn't exactly untrue. But this was honest.

[gavemea_45]

He wasn't expecting that, and it shows in the way he shifts his weight from one foot to the other.

"... no."

[hunter-legend.livejournal.com]

That makes him smile.

Always good to know he can still surprise his boys.

"I put a hundred bucks into a savings account for you," he says quietly, not looking at Sam, exactly. Not not looking at him. "I did the same thing for your brother. It was a college fund. And every month I’d put in another hundred dollars until..."

He looks up at Sam, wondering how much would be in it now if he'd kept saving. If he could have kept saving.

"Anyway, my point is, Sam, that... this is never the life that I wanted for you."

He should know this. If he had a life, if he didn't have a life: Sam needed to know this.

[gavemea_45]

"You..."

A college fund?

As long as he'd spent looking for a way out, applying for scholarships, taking every test and filling out every form he could in secret, he'd never considered that John might have-- that his father might have--

--no. He'd known better, and he'd been right. Bitter memory washes through him and flattens his voice.

"Then why'd you get so mad when I left?"

[hunter-legend.livejournal.com]

Conversations like this made him feel old. Old and stupid.

When he and Mary had gotten married, had Dean, had Sam, he'd wanted the same thing as anyone else who was having a kid:

He wanted to make the lives of his children better than his own life had been.

And while he wouldn't change a single day in his life (except, maybe, for one and even then he's not sure because it's one of those questions you ask yourself when you've been alone too long and you're wondering what kind of man you are to do what you do), he'd lived through war. He'd gone to war too young and he'd never wanted anything like that for his boys. Never.

Ain't life a bitch?

"You gotta understand something."

He didn't think Sam ever would. Maybe he was a cynic, but he's always considered himself a realist.

"After your Mother passed, all I saw was evil, everywhere. And all I cared about was, was keeping you boys alive."

I couldn't lose anyone else.

"I wanted you prepared...ready."

You boys are the only ones I've ever trusted. Ever really trusted since Mary's death. And you'll never understand that.

"So somewhere along the line I, uh... I stopped being your father. And I – I became your, your drill sergeant. So when you said that you wanted to go away to school, all I could think about, my only thought was that you were going to be alone...vulnerable."

One more person going away. And people who go away usually don't go back. The world was full of teeth and like he was living in some horror movie (wasn't he?) when they say they're coming right back...

"Sammy, it just – it never occurred to me what you wanted. I just couldn’t accept the fact that you and me – we’re just different."

I never thought past keeping you alive.

[gavemea_45]

Somewhere during his dad's story, Sam had moved quietly back across the room and settled on the end of the bed, listening.

"All I cared about was keeping you boys alive."

You were trying to keep us safe, he thinks, remembering a conversation with Jess. All this time, and I never really got it, until.... And now you think we're different?

Sam ducks his head and chokes out a laugh.

[hunter-legend.livejournal.com]

God, I'm tired.

"What?"

[gavemea_45]

Sam looks up at John and shakes his head, with a wry smile on his face.

"Dad-- we're not different. Not anymore."

"With what happened to Mom and Jess..."

He shrugs.

"...we probably have a lot more in common than just about anyone."

[hunter-legend.livejournal.com]

There's more of us than you'd think. And the sad thing is, I'm almost glad you don't know that.

It's good to hear that.

"I guess you’re right, son."

[gavemea_45]

Now that's something he doesn't hear every day -- hasn't heard in longer than he can easily recall, for that matter-- and despite the reason behind John's agreement, it still feels as though a warmth spreads through him.

"Hey, Dad?"

Sam hesitates before asking it, but there's something else he wants to know, and in the end curiosity wins out.

"What happened to that college fund?"

[hunter-legend.livejournal.com]

Let's hope he laughs.

"Spent it on ammo."

[gavemea_45]

Sam stares at him for a second, then bursts out laughing.

"Of course you did."

[hunter-legend.livejournal.com]

And he just nods to that because yeah. Of course he did.

Oh, and he laughs. Can't forget that. He might have almost forgotten how at this point, but he does all the same.

[hopeitsworthit]

It takes a lot of effort for Dean not to say Christo when he walks in the door.

The freakin' Twilight Zone has nothing on this moment.

Nothing.

And it isn't avoidance of the tightness in his chest that makes him grin big and bright, stepping forward and talking real loud.

"Whoo. You guys would not believe the kinda security they've got around dead guys in this town."

[gavemea_45]

Sam turns away from John, giving Dean a fast once-over.

"Looks like you got past it okay," he quips, with a crooked grin.

[hunter-legend.livejournal.com]

If he didn't think they needed it like he used to need it, he'd give 'em both a talking to about wasting time.

"Did you get it?"

[hopeitsworthit]

"Yep."

Dean nods, holding up a paper bag.

"Dead man's blood, fresh outta some guy in a morgue."

He pulls out a bottle of thick, sticky red liquid, handing it to John.

[hunter-legend.livejournal.com]

He looks up at Dean and then at Sam.

"You know what to do."