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bloodnbadthingsThis was earlier than he'd wanted to show up, too soon to contact Sam, but it was too urgent to pass up too. As much as Sam was probably sure John didn't keep any tabs on what he was doing, how he was doing, he hadn't turned a blind eye to his son. Some interesting news got back to him too... how Sam had a partner now and not just any partner, but Dean Winchester.
It had been... too hard to wrap his mind around at first. He'd spent this entire time thinking his eldest was dead, so sure he'd seen his body, so sure he'd left him. He couldn't just not check it out, not when more than one person had told him and not when there was even the slightest chance Sam might be in danger.
He hadn't raised a fool.
Or well, he hadn't thought.
It hadn't been too hard tracking down his son... his sons. It hadn't been hard to get into their room as soon as they'd left either. There was an extra duffel with Dean's clothes in it, some of his son's things... and John, admittedly, had to fight off the nostalgia and any other emotion that tried to sweep him up. He couldn't afford that right now. There was a black cloth tucked under the mattress for precaution and TruBlood in the fridge.
John was standing in the middle of the room when he heard the familiar sound of the Impala pulling up outside and all he could do was stare around the room, his mind racing. His eldest was a vampire, a monster and he didn't give a damn what the papers said or who tried to convince him you could trust a vampire. They were monsters... and he thought- God, he thought he'd taught Sam better than to risk his own ass like this, even if it was a monster wearing Dean's face, who acted like him and spoke like him.
It was still a monster who'd always have a drive to feed on human blood, who'd always be a potential danger.
He ignored the sharp jab in his own chest when he realized what had really happened to his own son, the regret and the guilt.
"Hello, boys," he managed when he heard the door open, turning to face them. John couldn't even fake a smile, a halfway pleasant look.
Dean was here, but... he didn't think he could be glad to see him, even if he'd spent every day since his son's death wishing just for that. He'd never meant like this.
He had to get answers though, figure out... just what the hell to do.
It had been... too hard to wrap his mind around at first. He'd spent this entire time thinking his eldest was dead, so sure he'd seen his body, so sure he'd left him. He couldn't just not check it out, not when more than one person had told him and not when there was even the slightest chance Sam might be in danger.
He hadn't raised a fool.
Or well, he hadn't thought.
It hadn't been too hard tracking down his son... his sons. It hadn't been hard to get into their room as soon as they'd left either. There was an extra duffel with Dean's clothes in it, some of his son's things... and John, admittedly, had to fight off the nostalgia and any other emotion that tried to sweep him up. He couldn't afford that right now. There was a black cloth tucked under the mattress for precaution and TruBlood in the fridge.
John was standing in the middle of the room when he heard the familiar sound of the Impala pulling up outside and all he could do was stare around the room, his mind racing. His eldest was a vampire, a monster and he didn't give a damn what the papers said or who tried to convince him you could trust a vampire. They were monsters... and he thought- God, he thought he'd taught Sam better than to risk his own ass like this, even if it was a monster wearing Dean's face, who acted like him and spoke like him.
It was still a monster who'd always have a drive to feed on human blood, who'd always be a potential danger.
He ignored the sharp jab in his own chest when he realized what had really happened to his own son, the regret and the guilt.
"Hello, boys," he managed when he heard the door open, turning to face them. John couldn't even fake a smile, a halfway pleasant look.
Dean was here, but... he didn't think he could be glad to see him, even if he'd spent every day since his son's death wishing just for that. He'd never meant like this.
He had to get answers though, figure out... just what the hell to do.
