John

“Emergency means emergency, mom,” Dean shrugged, “We all know I couldn’t have explained this to either of you. So…” Sam laughed, sitting back, “This totally qualifies as an emergency.” He felt a smile form on his face, neither one of the brothers had been this happy in quite some time. For Sam, it was since Jess was alive. For Dean, it was since he was younger, Sam had just been brought home from the hospital.

Mary took the beer, smiling. “I’m game. What’re we hunting? Something fun I hope. This better not be another rugaru or something.”

“Yeah, that’s for sure,” Sam sighed. He got lost in thought about Jess, college, and how all of this even started. Yet here they all were, together again. Dean just sat there and sipped on his drink. At least until he heard his mom, the two boys spun around on the bar stools and watched the scene unfold before them. 

Mary turned slightly to hit Dean’s shoulder. “You two had me thinking one of you had died!” she exclaimed. “Emergency means someone’s dying!” She was crying openly, still leaning heavily against John even as she scolded Dean.

John smiled tightly. “Time has a way of doing that,” he remarked. “Used to feel that a lot before I died. You two grew so fast. Before I knew it, you were adults and your mom had been dead for longer than we had been together.” He took another sip of his whiskey, looking down at it for a moment.

“Nothing,” Dean said, shooting Sam a look, “Just…forget it. Let’s go have a beer.” Sam opened his mouth slightly then just nodded, “Y-yeah, beer.” That’s when Sam walked around the car and pulled his dad in for a hug. If he had to be honest, he absolutely missed his father and it was unbelievable that he was back.

John hugged Sam back, clapping him on the back. “Hey, Sammy,” he murmured. He pulled away, looking up at Sam. “Damn, you’ve both grown up so much.”

“Yeah…funny how it runs in the family, right? We got supernatural on both sides,” Dean said, thinking about it. It was weird. “That…yeah, I totally believe you’re our dad now.” That pretty much was their mom’s story in a nutshell. Had Amara brought him back too? “Glad someone was there to help you out…let’s go in, he’ll be a-” That’s when Sam came walking around the corner and seen them. He started to smile a bit, then realized who was sitting next to Dean in the car. It couldn’t be.

John got out of the car, but didn’t walk around while Sam and Dean spoke, preferring to keep the vehicle between them just in case. He furrowed his brow as he looked between his sons. “What makes sense?” he asked in confusion. “Why does it matter that I’ve been back a year? Why is that what convinced you both?”

“Yeah…it was weird,” Dean muttered, not even bothering to mention that he had met John and everyone when they were younger thanks to time travel. “C’mon, it’s not like mom coulda just told you ‘hey, we hunt monsters’.” They pulled in front of the bar, he put the car in park.

John nodded, staring straight ahead as they parked. “Mary was a hunter,” he breathed, sounding overwhelmed by that information. He sighed, thinking through some of the questions he’d had before she’d died. Little things she had done that had always confused him.

“Both, actually,” Dean admitted, “Though, we have a messed up family. Mom’s dad was a hunter an’ your dad was a part of a secret organization called the Men of Letters…He was lookin’ for you…but it was too late. He pretty much died for Sam and I, man.” He quieted down, that was a lot to say, and even more to take in. However, he wanted John to know how their lives had gone…it was terrible.

John frowned, looking at Dean. “Samuel was a hunter?” he asked. “How...I mean...Mary always said they worked for the government.” He couldn’t even begin to process that his dad had somehow come forward and died for Sam and Dean. It was a little too much damage to his world view. Besides, processing that Mary’s dad was a hunter seemed more...important, somehow.

“I dunno,” Dean sighed and then laughed a bit, looking back. “Yeah…be sorry all you want, man. The past is the past.” Though, a part of Dean was resentful and pissed beyond belief. Their parents literally sat them up for failure. “Yeah…Older sister, kind of a big bag of dicks.” Dean took in a deep breath, “Yeah…me too, get in.” He pulled out his phone and text Sam, telling him to meet them at the only bar in town. Besides, it wasn’t like they’d get much out of the crime scene since it was like the last two.

John climbed into the passenger side of the car, running his hands along its dashboard for a moment, eyes unfocused as he lost himself in the nostalgia for a moment. He furrowed his brow as Dean’s words registered, looking at his son. “You met...which one? The deadbeat loser or the psychotic murderer? Neither one of your grandfathers were ‘nice.’ They were both dicks.”

“Yeah…Thanks,” Dean said, “I’ve rebuilt her a few times.” He went about every test he could think of, all of them pointed to him being a human. He frowned, how could this be real? Then again. Weirder things had happened.

John shrugged. “I was there,” he stated. “Maybe someone was keeping us hidden.” He listened to Dean summing up the past few years, eyes widening. “Shit,” he swore quietly.

“C’mon, then,” Dean said, nodding his head towards the parking lot where the Impala sat. He wasn’t letting the man out of his sight or behind him. Gun still at the ready, only discretely. He had every intention on running all of the tests, there was no way his story could be true. Could it? Then again, their life had been pretty messed up over the past few years.

John followed Dean towards the Impala, his expression softening as he looked at the car. “She’s beautiful, Dean,” he murmured. “You’ve taken good care of her.” He stood by the trunk, holding his arm out for Dean to test.

Dean had been looking at his phone, texting Sam that he was on scene, when he accidentally ran into a man. When he heard that voice, his heart stopped and his mouth dropped a little. He quickly composed himself, “Oh, sorry, my bad.” He felt a few eyes on them then glanced around. How could his dad be standing right in front of him? He had been dead for a better part of at least ten years. “Can I talk to you…outside?,” his voice was firm, it was all he could do to not blow their covers in front of all of the police officers on sight.

John raised his hands to show he meant no harm. “It’s me, Dean,” he stated. “I don’t know how, or why, but I came back about a year ago. Woke up in some park in the middle of the night, started looking for you and couldn’t find you, so I started hunting.”

Ghost of the Past (Closed)

John had been hunting a creature for the last few days. He was still adjusting to the way things were done these days, which was especially difficult considering he didn’t have anyone to ask. But at least a hunt was a hunt. Even before dying, he had never let technology change how he did the job.