Disclaimer: Supernatural belongs to Eric Kripke. I only own my character Mary-Elisabeth "Emmy" Winchester.

Jefferson City, Missouri

Sam was pouring salt along the window sills of the cabin, his gaze occasionally drifted to look through the window as he tried to keep an eye out. Even though the cabin they chose to lay low was camouflaged by the many trees in the woods, you still could never be too safe or guarded.

The sound of footsteps made Sam turn around. Dean took notice of how battered his brother's face was – there was a bruise forming on his cheek that would soon change in all colors of the rainbow, his right eye was almost swollen shut and many cuts marred his face.

"How is he?" Sam asked, referring to their father.

"He just needed a little rest, that's all." Dean leaned against an old dresser, crossing his arms over his chest. "How are you?"

Sam turned his back on his brother as he finished the salt lines. "I'll survive." Dean knew that he really wasn't, hence why he wasn't making any contact, afraid he'll see right through the lie. "Hey, you don't think we were followed here, do you?"

"I don't know. I don't think so." Dean ran an exhausted hand down his face. "I mean, we couldn't have found a more out-of-the-way place to hole up."

"Yeah." Sam turned around, facing his brother. "Hey, uh ... Dean, you, um …" he nervously licked his lips, "you saved my life back there."

Dean smirked tiredly. "So, I guess you're glad I brought the gun, huh?"

Sam snorted. No matter how screwed up the situation they were in, it didn't seem to affect Dean's wittiness. "Man, I'm trying to thank you here."

Dean nodded, giving his brother a knowing look, the one that said he appreciated it. "You're welcome."

Sam crossed the room to his bag. "We should call Emmy. She's probably worried to death."

"Yeah, I almost forgot about that." Dean moved to get his own cell phone, cursing when it didn't want to turn on. "Crap, mine is dead."

"Mine's still charged. I just have to find it." As if on cue, Sam's phone suddenly rang. Following the sound, he found it in the small pocket on the inside of his bag. Throwing one look at the caller-id, he couldn't help but smile.

"Emmy?" Dean guessed.

"Maybe she's the psychic one," Sam chuckled before picking up.

"Sammy?" Emmy's soft voice was like a light shining through the dark. It made him realize that not his entire family was messed up, there was still that good left between all the bad.

"Hey, honey. I was just about to call you."

He could hear her let out a sigh in relief. "Are you okay? Is Dean okay? Where are you now? Did you guys find Dad? Please tell me you found Dad," she rambled on, obviously worried as they had predicted.

"Yeah, we found him, he's –"

She didn't let him finish. "Can I talk to him?"

Sam was a little doubtful. "Uh, he's kinda resting right now …"

"I think I just heard him getting up," Dean spoke up. Just as he said that, their father emerged from the room he was sleeping in. He looked beat, like he could use a year's worth of sleep. But weren't they all on the verge of collapse.

"Oh, he just got up. You're lucky," Sam told his sister. "Here I'll pass you through." He handed the phone to his father. "It's Emmy."


John smiled at hearing her sweet voice. "Hey, baby girl."

"Oh, Daddy I'm so happy to hear your voice. I was so worried about you, I thought I would never see you again." Her voice broke and he knew she was on the verge of tears.

"Oh, Emmy don't say that. You know that's not true." John moved across the room, away from his sons so he could talk to her in private.

Dean thought it was weird but didn't dwell on it too much. "Hey Sam?"

Sam looked up from watching his father. "Yeah?"

Dean focused on his hands as he talked. "You know that guy I shot? There was a person in there."

Sam noticed the way his brother was beating himself up about something again. He always tended to take the blame for everything. "You didn't have a choice, Dean."

"Yeah, I know, that's not what bothers me," he sighed.

Sam raised his eyebrows. "Then what does?"

"Killing that guy, killing Meg." Dean looked up to meet his brother's eye. "I didn't hesitate, I didn't even flinch. For you, Emmy or Dad, the things I'm willing to do or kill, it's just, uh," he briefly closed his eyes, " ... it scares me sometimes."

Sam seemed like he didn't know what to say, and kept quiet. Both boys were lost in their thoughts, the only sound was their father talking on the phone.

"I will. And I love you too, sweetheart." John finished the call and got back to his sons. "It shouldn't, Dean."

Snapped out of his thoughts, Dean asked, "What?"

"It shouldn't scare you. You did good."

Dean frowned. "You're not mad?"

"For what?" John shrugged.

Dean exchanged a quick glance with Sam before he replied, "Using a bullet."

"Mad?" John snorted with a laugh. "I'm proud of you. You know, Sam and I, we can get pretty obsessed. But you," he walked closer to Dean, giving him a look that should have made him bursting with pride, but instead Dean thought it was unsettling, "you watch out for this family. You always have."

Dean cleared his throat in uneasiness. "Thanks."

The ripped curtains started waving around when the wind suddenly picked up. The discolored light bulbs began to flicker, covering the cabin in electric sparks of light.

John got closer to the window, moving the curtains aside. "It found us. It's here."

"The demon?" Sam sounded alarmed. He could've sworn they did a great job at protecting this cabin, how the hell did Azazel still manage to find them?

"Sam, lines of salt in front of every window, every door," his father ushered him, frantically moving around the room.

"I already did it," he pointed out.

John gave him a pointed look. "Well, check it, okay?"

Sam was about to argue against him, but common sense told him to leave it and not make it worse. "Okay," he nodded as he left the room.

"Dean, you got the gun?" John pressed.

Dean, who had been surprisingly calm, only offered his father a simple, "Yeah."

John cocked a questioning eyebrow at his collected demeanor. "Give it to me."

Dean carefully took the Colt out of his jeans. "Dad, Sam tried to shoot the demon in Salvation. It disappeared."

"This is me. I won't miss," John insisted exasperatedly. "Now, the gun, hurry," he claimed, sticking his hand out.

Dean looked down at the gun with hesitation.

"Son, please."

Dean clenched his jaw as he backed up several steps.

John looked confused but he was mostly fed up and short on patience. "Give me the gun. What are you doing, Dean?"

"He'd be furious," Dean said haltingly.

"What?" he asked.

"That I wasted a bullet," Dean explained. "He wouldn't be proud of me, he'd tear me a new one."

John only stared back at him when Dean raised the Colt, pointing it at him, cocking it.

"You're not my Dad."

John took a step closer, only to have Dean take a step back. He let out a frustrated sigh. "Dean, it's me," he insisted.

"I know my Dad better than anyone." Dean shook his head. "And you ain't him."

"What the hell's gotten into you?" His father looked offended but Dean caught a tinge of amazement.

"I could ask you the same thing." When John made another move to come closer, Dean's hand gripped the gun tighter. "Stay back," he warned.

"Dean?" Sam appeared in the room. He was shocked as he took in the sight in front of him. "What the hell's going on?"

"Your brother's lost his mind," John shook his head.

Sam frowned, looking at his brother for an explanation.

"He's not Dad," Dean said.

Sam was stunned to say the least but he still made the choice to move closer to his brother. "What?"

Never taking his eyes off their Dad, Dean said, "I think he's possessed. I think he's been possessed since we rescued him." He blinked a few times, trying not to reveal his glistening eyes.

John put his hands up, as if trying to calm them both down. "Don't listen to him, Sammy."

Sam observed his father, trying to find something that would confirm his brother's suspicion. "Dean, how do you know?"

"He's ... he's different," Dean forced through gritted teeth. "He called Emmy sweetheart and he never calls her that. I'm the only one who gets to call her that."

"Are you kidding me right now? That's the only proof you got, other than me being different? Wow, Dean. And here I was thinking I taught you better than that," John confronted. "You know, we don't have time for this." John chose to focus on Sam instead, knowing he already lost Dean's trust. "Sam, you wanna kill this demon, you've gotta trust me."

His youngest son looked back and forth between his brother and father. He looked conflicted, torn between the two men he would die protecting. It wasn't fair he had to take a side, knowing he'll have no choice but let one of them down.

"Sam?" John pushed.

It took a full minute before he made a choice. Sam moved closer to his brother, his best friend, the one who always got his back no matter what, the one who always put anyone else first. "No. No."

John looked at them, his face void of any emotions. "Fine. You're both so sure, go ahead." He dropped his hands, giving Dean full access. "Kill me."

Dean could feel his veins pulse, his blood pumping in his ears and a trail of sweat on the back of his neck. His brains told him to shoot but his heart was the one that had control on the trigger, stopping him from actually pulling it.

"I thought so." John's lips curled into a disturbing smirk. Before any of the brothers could react, they were both thrown against the wall, pinned there. Sam and Dean struggled against the demon's invisible hold while John picked the Colt up. "What a pain in the ass this thing's been," he said as he twirled the gun around between his fingers.

"It's you, isn't it?" Sam spat, breathing hard. "We've been looking for you for a long time."

John looked up, showing off his sickly yellow eyes. "Well, you found me."

Sam swallowed hard. You never get used with seeing someone possessed, let alone your own father. "But the holy water?"

"You think something like that works on something like me?" he chuckled. Normally whenever John chuckled it was a rare sound. His family didn't get the chance to hear him laugh as much as he did before Mary died. But hearing the demon use their father's voice, it was too disturbing.

Sam tried to fight against the bounds but in vain. "I'm gonna kill you!"

"Oh, that'd be a neat trick. In fact," the demon put the gun down on the table, "here. Make the gun float to you there, psychic boy." He shot him a challenging grin.

Sam did look at the gun, straining himself as he tried to move it but when was luck ever on his side. It was a Winchester curse.

"Well, this is fun." John snorted. Walking over to Dean, he couldn't help but give him a taunting smile at seeing him struggle. "I could've killed you a hundred times today, but this," he waved his arms around, "this is worth the wait. Too bad you didn't bring the little one."

It took everything in Dean not to verbally attack this son of a bitch in front of him who thought it had the right to possess his own father.

"Your Dad," the demon tapped his chest, "he's in here with me. Trapped inside his own meat suit. He says hi by the way. He's gonna tear you apart. He's gonna taste the iron in your blood." Every word came out slowly to make sure they would cut like a knife.

Dean's nostrils flared. "Let him go, or I swear to God –"

"What? What are you and God gonna do?" he mocked. "You see, as far as I'm concerned, this is justice. You know that little exorcism of yours? That was my daughter."

"Who, Meg?" Dean sounded surprised.

"The one in the alley? That was my boy," the demon growled. "You understand."

Dean rolled his eyes, aggravated. Like he gave a crap about the demon spawn. "You've got to be kidding me."

"What? You're the only one that can have a family?" the demon disputed. "You destroyed my children. How would you feel if I killed your family?" His lips formed an evil smile as if he suddenly remembered something. "Oh, that's right. I forgot. I did. Still, two wrongs don't make a right.

"You son of a bitch," Dean hissed.

"I wanna know why," Sam demanded, drawing the attention of the demon. "Why'd you do it?"

"You mean why did I kill Mommy and pretty, little Jess?"

Sam's throat closed up. After all this time, it still was a sore spot. "Yeah."

John turned back to Dean. "You know, I never told you this, but Sam was going to ask her to marry him. Been shopping for rings and everything." He turned back to Sam. "You want to know why? Because they got in the way."

"In the way of what?" Sam questioned.

The demon took a step closer to him. "My plans for you, Sammy," he whispered. "You and all the children like you."

"Why didn't you just take me when you had the chance," Sam couldn't help but wonder.

"Your whore of a mother wasn't supposed to even live long enough to see you crawl, Sammy. I think you should show me some gratitude for being considerate enough to give her some extra years on this godforsaken earth."

"Why wait for so long to strike then, huh? Why being so patient about getting her out of the way when you could've easily whisked me away?" Sam demanded.

"Cause I lost interest in you, Sammy. See your mother offered me something so much better." John smirked, sending distressing vibes to the brothers. "One of the most purest, innocent and virtuous souls ever created. A newborn. Or in this case, your sweet and loving baby sister."

Sam visibly paled. "No. It can't be." His words were barely just a whisper.

"You're lying," Dean growled. "Our mother would never do such thing!" The woman he knew adored her children, she lived for her children, there's nothing she wouldn't do for them.

"You're right about that one. I gave her ten years to give me what I want, in exchange I would leave her precious family alone. Honestly, everyone calls me cruel but that was probably the nicest deal I've ever made. Give me the baby before anyone could get attached and I would raise it like it was my own. And even the baby gets to benefit from it since it would never know what a heartless and cowardly mother she had." The demon started pacing around the room. "But your mother didn't keep her end of the bargain. She thought she was smart enough to hide your baby sister from me. Your father helped her with it – that's right, Johnny boy knows everything. It took me four months to locate your family. I have to admit, your parents were pros when it came to making the house demon proof." At the boys confused expressions, he elaborated, "Oh, you didn't know that either? Well now you know, your parents were supernatural suave before you guys were even born."

"So the only reason you killed our mother is because she wouldn't give you our sister?" Sam pressed.

"Your mother was stupid, that's why I killed her. If she had just handed me her daughter, I wouldn't even be here wearing your Daddy's meat suit," he spat. "But instead, she made everything so much worse. Not only did she blow the deal out of the water, you boys and your father also dared to hide that little girl from me, when belongs to me!"

"Like hell she belongs to you," Dean shot back with a murderous tone. "Dream on, you son of a bitch."

John's only reply was to smirk. "I knew you would say that. Call it a onetime mistake from my part, but I've learned my lesson. That's why I made the choice to take what I should've taken a long time ago when I had the chance." His yellow eyes shot to Sam, his glare burning with the intensity. "You." At Sam's uneasiness, he added, "Don't worry, I'll get your precious sister, too. I heard she was special, more experimental fun for me." He winked.

Dean cleared his throat. "Listen, you mind just getting this over with, huh? Cause I really can't stand the monologuing."

The demon got closer to him, fixing him with a downgrading look. "Funny, but that's all part of your M.O., isn't it? Masks all that nasty pain, masks the truth."

Dean scoffed. "Oh, yeah? What's that?"

"You know, you fight and you fight for this family, but the truth is they don't need you. Not like you need them," he confronted. "Sam – he's clearly John's favorite. Even when they fight, it's more concern than he's ever shown you. Mary-Elisabeth – well, she's the baby, everyone loves her. You think she worships the ground you walk on, but honestly Dean, I think it's the other way around. She can perfectly live without you, I'm not sure if you could though."

Dean licked his lips before they curled into a provocative smile. "I bet you're real proud of your kids, too, huh? Oh wait, I forgot. I wasted them." Again his smart mouth got the best of him but his smile didn't last long when he suddenly felt a white-hot pain.

"Dean! No!" Sam fought against the demon's force pinning him.

Blood started coating Dean's shirt around his chest area. "Dad! Dad, don't you let it kill me!" he sputtered.

John's yellow eyes twinkled in amusement. Dean started to scream again from the internal torture.

"DEAN!" Sam yelled, breathing heavily as he kept trying to break free. "NO!"

Dean had trouble holding his head up, but he mustered up enough strength to look the demon in the eye. His father had to be somewhere in there, he had to be seeing what the demon was doing to his own son. "Dad, please," his voice hoarse as he begged, attempting to reach his father. Blood started to drip from his mouth as he spoke those last words before darkness consumed him.

"DEAN!" Sam was panicking, bordering losing his mind.

John has fought a lot of battles in his life, from serving his country to killing monsters. But getting control over your own body and mind was the hardest thing he had ever done. He could feel the demon poisoning him, making him do things and say things that were against his will. It was like being paralyzed and mute, while having someone else directing your body. "Stop," he finally managed to say the word with lots of energy. Even though it was just a whisper, it still was enough to free his sons from the Demon's grasp. "Stop it," he sounded much more firmer, his eyes returning to their original color. He could feel as he was slowly getting the upper hand.

Sam didn't wait a second longer and grabbed the gun off the table. He aimed it at his father with trembling hands.

John's eyes got back to yellow as he turned to Sam lying on the floor. "You kill me, you kill Daddy."

Sam's jaw clenched, his eyes reflecting the pain he felt inside at what he was about to do. "I know." He fired the gun, shooting his father right in the leg. John's knees buckled and he fell to the ground. Sam used the wall as he got up and limped to his brother.

"Dean? Dean, hey?" He cupped his brother's face, shaking him when he noticed the pool of blood. "Oh God, you've lost a lot of blood."

Dean's eyes cracked open, his eyes were glazed over and unfocused. "Where's Dad?" he rasped.

"He's right here." Sam let out a breath of relief at seeing his brother alive, barely alive. "He's right here, Dean."

"Go check on him," Dean sounded breathless. When Sam didn't move, he pushed him again.

Sam sighed in frustration but he shoved his stubbornness aside for the moment and went to check on their father. He was lying motionless on the floor but he was also still alive.

John suddenly gasped, startling Sam. "Sammy! It's still alive. It's inside me, I can feel it. You shoot me. You shoot me! You shoot me in the heart, son!" He grabbed the gun and pointed it at his chest.

"Sam, don't you do it." Dean grunted, trying to sit upright. "Don't you do it."

"You've gotta hurry! I can't hold onto it much longer! You shoot me, son! Shoot me! Son, I'm begging you! We can end this here and now! Sammy!"

"Sam, no," Dean almost growled.

Sam's head felt like it was going to explode from the pressure.

"You do this!" John grabbed Sam's arm. "Sammy! Sam – " His pleads suddenly got cut off by a black cloud leaving him through his mouth.


"Look, just hold on, alright. The hospital's only ten minutes away."

John's only reply was a grunt while Dean remained unconscious; he had already lost too much blood and Sam feared he would never see his brother's piercing green eyes again. As he drove the Impala, he thought of how it wasn't his place to drive the car, it was Dean's. Instead of lying in the backseat, drenched in his own blood, he should've been threatening Sam for even daring to touch his baby.

Sam's eyes constantly switched from the road, back to the rearview mirror. The tension and stress was nauseating but he managed to push that to the back of his head and focus on the task at hand – which was getting his brother and father to the hospital.

"I'm surprised at you, Sammy," John suddenly broke the silence. "Why didn't you kill it? I thought we saw eye-to-eye on this? Killing this demon comes first – before me, before everything." John didn't sound accusing, but he was more disappointed in his son. Disappointed at the fact that after all these years of drilling it into their heads, Sam still chose him over the yellow eyed demon, the one that killed the love of his life.

Sam took a deep breath through his nose, his jaw set, as he was about to prove his father wrong once again. In the midst of his argument, they didn't see the eighteen wheeler coming at them from the right at full speed. It wasn't until they were blinded by the truck's headlights that it was already too late.

Because when life throws the unexpected, the Winchesters never turned away. They either learn how to roll with the punches or get knocked down by them.

A/N: Welcome back my lovely readers! Are you guys ready for second season, cause I am :)

Don't forget to review/follow/favorite especially if you want to be notified for the next update! XXX

Next chapter: In My Time Of Dying - tissues, make sure you got lots of tissues cause you're gonna need it to dry your tears :(