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Mysteries of the Past Unfolds

Chapter Text

Singer Salvage Yard

Sioux Falls, South Dakota

May 1st, 2008

In Bobby Singer's cluttered, dirty kitchen a thick silence settles upon Dean and Sam Winchester as they sit in the uncomfortable wooden chairs before the aged oak table. Books and papers surrounded the two, filled with indecipherable scribbles and rare languages. An uneasy feeling churns in their stomachs as they desperately try to find something that could save Dean from his imminent death by hell-hounds the next day. Sam releases an aggravated sigh; his eyes pulse and burn from lack of sleep and desperate attempts at trying to find something that would save his big brother from Hell.

"God damn it," Sam curses under his breath. The stress and lack of sleep is beginning to take a toll upon the younger man. Tears of helplessness and agitation fill his sea green eyes as he glares harshly down at the table. Hands calloused from hard work and training rub his face. The palms of his hands press against his eyes, making the blackness become colored with stars.

Dean looks up from reading a passage from an archaic book. His bright hazel green eyes hold a trace of fear, aggravation, and sadness in their depths as he looks at his brother with a raised eyebrow. His own eyes also burn with exhaustion from their long nights of researching for something that could or would be able to save him from Hell. He doesn't regret selling his soul so that his baby brother could live, but that doesn't mean he isn't terrified about dying if they don't find something. "I'm sorry Sammy," the oldest Winchester finally states. His voice sounds hoarse and tired as he runs a hand roughly through his light brown hair. His mouth thins as he looks at the haggard features being expressed on his baby brother's face.

"For what, Dean?" Sam inquires with a furrow of his eyebrows. His expressive eyes look at his big brother, trying to discover what his brother is thinking. Dean is not often known to wanting to express his emotions verbally, if he does not have to. So for him to want to now, he must be really upset.

"For leaving you here by yourself, without anyone to watch over you," Dean replies with a heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach. How could he not want to tell Sam this? Within a day, he'll be dragged to Hell, leaving no one to watch over him.

"We'll find something Dean," The younger Winchester insists. He isn't going to give up. He will save his big brother. He could feel something heavy settle in his stomach at the way his brother is talking. It almost sounds like Dean is giving up. He is not one to usually give in or give up when the going gets tough. He is often the last one standing in a fight.

Dean gives a halfhearted smirk at his brother's stubbornness. It was a Winchester gene after all; every one of them was stubborn as a mule. "You know, I wish we had more Winchesters than just us. Imagine, another big brother to help with the pressure dad put on me and a twin to keep you in check," He chuckles as he says the wish world, never realizing that saying the 'W' word always leads to bad things happening.

"Your wish is granted!" A loud voice suddenly exclaims in the room and with a flash of white light, the deal is done.

In London, England and Cleveland, Ohio one Harry James Potter and Alexander 'Xander' Harris disappears from their homes, never to be seen again.

The Winchester Household

Lawrence, Kansas

November 2nd, 1983

Mary Winchester walks into an average sized nursery, where two small six-month-old children lay, squirming and gurgling to each other. At the sound of her youngest boys a soft smile graces the young woman's lips. Beautiful blond hair lay over her shoulders in waves. Striking sapphire blue eyes look upon the small children as she makes her way closer to her six-month-old twin boys. Her skin nearly glows in the dim yellow light of the nursery with her white nightgown silently swinging about her ankles as she walks. The mother of four children, who are all boys, looks like an angel.

An eight-year-old boy, with locks of raven black hair (like his fathers), holds his mother's left hand as he silently watches his surroundings. Eyes of emerald green sweep over the crib were his youngest baby brothers lie awake. A smile crosses his pink lips at the sounds his youngest siblings are making. His younger brother, by three years, is held in their mother's right arm and is eagerly awaiting to wish the twins a goodnight. Hazel green eyes lock onto the crib before him where his younger brothers have finally settled.

"Come on guys, let's say goodnight to your brothers," Mary says in a soft voice. Dean Winchester gives an eager smile and quickly drops to the floor onto his feet and hurries toward his brother's crib. Lifting himself up on the railing, he leans forward and lays a soft kiss upon the twin's heads. With a shake of her head she releases Harper's hand and allows him to follow his younger brother. Mary smiles softly as she watches Harper keep a hold of his younger brother; making sure he doesn't fall, as the eight-year-old gives his twin baby brothers a kiss.

"Night Xander. Night Sam," Dean whispers as he looks lovingly down to his baby brothers. The six-month-old babies, Alexander and Samuel, coo up at their second older brother. Alexander and Samuel both have a sea green color, a mixture of his mother's and fathers eyes. However, Alexander's eyes were more blue in color and Samuel's eyes were more green in color. Both twins had a head of dark brown hair. 

"Night Lex. Night Sammy," Harper Winchester mutters softly. He grins happily as his brother's give a gum filled smile up at their oldest big brother.

"Night loves," Mary whispers to her twin sons with a large grin. She glows with happiness as she looks down at her boys. Bending forward, she kisses Alexander and Samuel on their foreheads. Running her hand through Harper and Dean's hair she lightly taps them upon their shoulders, silently telling them to get down from the crib.

John Winchester leans against the doorway of the nursery, watching his family with pride in his eyes. His dark black hair, much like Harper's, falls across his forehead. His eyes sparkle from the light in the nursery as he gazes at his family. John is a very happy and proud man. He has four beautiful and healthy children, all of them boys, and a lovingly gorgeous wife. He had the perfect life in his eyes.

"Hey Dean, Harper," he says suddenly up from the doorway. A large grin appears on Dean's face at the sound of his father's voice. Turning towards their father, Dean quickly brightens as he runs towards his father and lunges for his legs with a loud exclamation.


John catches his son in his muscular arms with a chuckle, "Hey buddy! What do yah think? Do yah think the twins are ready to play a game of two against two with you and Harry?" Their father questions him. He ruffles his son's hair lovingly as he looks down upon his second oldest.

"No dad," Dean replies shaking his head. A small laugh escapes his lips at how silly his father is acting.

"No?" John questions with a chortle. Harper gives a smile at his baby brother before quickly running past his mother and over to his father.

"Dad!" Harper hugs his father tightly. He feels calm and content when his father's strong arms wrap around him too.

"Hey Harper," the older man runs his fingers through the eight-year-old's hair and gives him a kiss on the top of his head. Mary grins as she looks on at her husband and their oldest sons together. John lifts the seven-year-old and four-year-old up into his arms, keeping them close to his chest.

"You got them?" Mary asks as she brushes her blond hair out of her eyes and walks away from her sons crib and over to her other three boys. Running her hand through Harper's hair she kisses him on the cheek before looking at Dean who looks back at her before glancing at his big brother with hero worship in his eyes. She leans slowly over to Dean and runs her hand through his messy light brown hair too. Rubbing his back, she smiles as she walks out into the hallway.

"Yeah, I got them," John affirms as he turns the lights off beside the door. He looks at the crib with a loving smile on his face, "Sweet dreams Xander, Sammy," He whispers tenderly, before walking out of the nursery doorway. He closes the nursery door only partly behind him, leaving it open enough for the hall light to seep through into the nursery. John remains holding Dean and Harper in his arms as he and Mary walk down the hallway together and into their son's shared bedroom. They each lay one of them down in their own bed.

"Angels are watching over you," Mary assures Dean and leans down to give him a kiss on the forehead. She grabs the comforter and pulls it up over him to keep him warm during the night. The room is painted a warm grey color. Two nightstands are placed in between the beds that Harper and Dean sleep in. A dresser is also placed against the right wall next to the closet. Bookshelves hang on the walls and are filled with both school and storybooks.

"Love you mom," Dean yawns. Casting a loving smile at Dean, Mary turns and walks across the room to where Harper is anxiously waiting for his mother in bed. John switches places with Mary and goes to wish Dean a goodnight. Harper looks up at his mother with bright emerald green eyes. They always amaze the young mother with how bright they are, considering John's eyes are a jade green. A tired smile crosses his face while looking up at his mother. Mary smiles and her hand combs his mess of raven black hair before giving him a kiss on his forehead.

"My sweet little boy," She says with love, "you are loved and watched over by Angels."

"Love you mom," Harper whispers sleepily while he snuggles into his pillow. With a smile at her boys she walks over to where John now stands in the doorway. Mary's footsteps are light and barely heard on the hardwood floor when she stops beside her husband.

"I'm going to head to bed John," she tells him softly and wraps her arms around his waist. Leaning up on her toes, she gives her husband a soft kiss on the lips before pulling slowly away. A smile spreads across her lips when she looks into her husband's loving eyes. "I love you John." Mary whispers sweetly. Her eyes trace over his face, engraving the image in her mind. With one last kiss to his lips she she turns away and walks out of her boy's bedroom and into the hallway. The sound of Mary's footsteps disappear when she reaches the master bedroom.

"I love you too Mary. I'll be in bed soon." John calls after her.

"Dad?" Harper calls out softly to his father who is still standing in the doorway. He doesn't want to wake up his baby brother who has already fallen asleep. John pauses at the doorway of the oldest sons room, at the sound of Harper calling his name. John turns to look at his son with a tired smile and a raised eyebrow. His bare feet slap the ground with light thumps when he walks towards the twin size bed.

"Yes Harper?" He questions as he sits himself on the edge of the bed. The blankets rustle when Harper squirms in his wooden bed. Dean's soft snores echo in the silence of the room before Harper speaks once again, breaking the silence between father and son.

"Why can't Xander and Sammy stay in our room?" Harper questions. The nightlight in the room is plugged near the closet and gives John enough light to see Harper's curious green eyes looking up at him. John smiles and shakes his head with amusement. Raising his arm he playfully messes up his son's hair.

"They're babies Harper and they need their own room," his father replies with a twinkle in his eyes. "The only reason why you and Dean share a room is because Dean feels protected and safe when he's around you." John remarks with a smile growing across his lips at his oldest son's look. Harper's eyebrows scrunch together and his lips purse in thought. He doesn't like his father's answer but he can understand why Dean wants to be around him. He is the oldest and he is suppose to protect his younger brothers.

"But if they're in another room…I can't protect them; not like I can protect Dean in here." Harper states very seriously. John's heart warms at his son's words. He feels proud that Harper takes being a 'big brother' so seriously. Dean is the same way when it came to the twins.

"You can protect them when you wake up tomorrow." John tells him. He pushes himself off of the bed and adjusts his pajamas and robe. "Get some sleep Harper," he states firmly but in a soft voice, "You have your self-defense classes and equipment practice to go to tomorrow." As a former soldier, John figured that his oldest son should be better equipped to protect himself, then not be able to even raise a fist.

"Love you daddy," Harper whispers as he turns on his side and buries his head into the pillow once again.

"Love you too Harry," John replies just as softly. Walking out of the room he leaves the door ajar; enough for the soft glow of the halls own night-light to slip through.

Alexander and Samuel lay in their crib wide-awake. The two remain silent as they look up at their mobile that slowly begins to spin on its own accord. The clock on the wall across from the crib stops on twelve ten with a final tick. The nightlight that is plugged in the outlet besides the nursery door starts to flicker erratically. The once noisy room; with sounds from the small ceiling fan and the ticking clock stop, leaving the room in silence. The drapes that hang above the window sway with an unexplained breeze.

A figure unexpectedly appears over the young twin's crib with a sinister air about him. The young babies' eyes begin to water as tears cling to their eyelashes, before slowly slipping down their creamy white cheeks. Alex and Sam cry silently as their little mouths begin to quiver. They don't like the dangerous and dark feeling of the man. Even though they do not yet understand why they were feeling so frightened.

Mary sleeps peacefully curled up beneath the comforter of the bed. The baby monitor that sits on top of the dresser releases the faint sound of crying as Sam and Alex release their tears. Mary stirs in her sleep and readjusts the blankets covering her as she awakes tired. Her long blond hair falls messily into her face when she raises her head off of the pillow.

"John?" She calls out groggily. She looks over her shoulder and notices that the right side of the bed is empty. Yawning in fatigue Mary shakes her head tiredly. Swinging her legs over the bed she rubs her eyes in exhaustion. She stands up gradually from the bed and heads out of the bedroom and towards the twin's room. Her feet silently and delicately tap the chilly wood flooring. Her nightgown sways around her ankles from her movements and the breeze from the air conditioner. She makes her way to her son's nursery.

Mary reaches the end of the hallway and stands silently in the nursery doorway. Seeing a figure of a man already standing over Alex and Sam's crib she speaks quietly. "John…are they hungry?" Mary asks her husband. He remains facing their son's crib; his back to her. He doesn't fully answer her; only shushing her with a finger to his lips. Shrugging her pale shoulders she mutters softly to herself. Making her way back down the hallway towards her oldest son's rooms to check on them, she notices the hallway light flickering crazily, causing shadows to dance on the walls of the hallway.

Mary's lips purse and her eyebrows furrow as she walks over to the hall light's switch. She raises a pale hand and taps the light gently, trying to make it stop. "Hmm," she hums to herself in thought before the sound of the television causes her to look towards the stairs. 'John must have left it on,' she thinks to herself with a disapproving frown.

The young mother makes her way down the stairs with a creak. The glow of the TV gives Mary enough light to see where she was walking, so she doesn't trip and fall down the stairs. She freezes on the fourth step down when she notices that the sleeping figure in an armchair in front of the television was John. A feeling of dread and terror sets in her chest as she realizes the figure inside her son's room was not her husband. With a twist of her torso, she hurriedly makes her way back up the staircase in a panic. Her feet make light patter noises on the wooden stairs as she heads towards the nursery.

"Alex! Sam!" she shouts, her voice cracking with terror at what could be happening to her sons. Mary raises her hands and slams the door open before walking further into the room. She comes to a stop in the doorway near the wall. The moonlight's rays that enter through the windows give enough light to see in the room. The nightlight besides the doorway gives the room an eerie glow as it continues to flicker erratically. She freezes as she notices what was standing in front of her son's crib.

John jolts awake from the comfortable chair as the high-pitched scream of his wife echoes through the house. John jumps up from the chair and thunders up the stairs. His heart pounds painfully against his chest as thoughts filter through his head; all filled with horrible things that could have happened to Mary. "Mary! Mary! Mary!" He yells out with fear as he runs down that hallway towards the nursery. He glances to his son's rooms and notices, thankfully, that their door remained partly open, just as he had left it.

Reaching the nursery he rushes through the open door and looks around for the source of the scream. He remains frozen for a short few seconds as his eyes glance around the nursery hurriedly. Finding no one in the room he slowly makes his way towards Alex and Sam's crib. Glancing down at his two boys with a smile he notices that they are awake. Both of their faces are red and their eyes are watery from crying. "Hey Alex, Sam, you're okay," he tells them soothingly, looking down at his unharmed children. Using both hands he leans over the crib's railing and gently rubs both of their stomachs, trying to calm their squirming. His eyebrows scrunch together in confusion as he notices a red substance between their heads. Raising a tan hand, his pointer finger lightly touches it.

Fear and dread spread throughout John when another droplet falls upon his hand. Pulling his hand away he notices that the red droplets continue to drip down. His heart pounds painfully in his chest. With a heavy feeling of dread settling over him he raises his head slowly up to the ceiling. "No…Mary!" He shouts in horror and grief as he falls to the floor in distress. His wife is pinned to the ceiling with a gash on her stomach that bleeds freely. Her beautiful face holds an expression of pain and her mouth is open in a silent scream. John continues to stare at his wife with wide eyes and releases a startled cry when his wife's body suddenly burst into flames that quickly spreads across the ceiling and down the walls.

John remains frozen in shock at the sight until the sound of Alex and Sam's cries cause him to rise up from the floor and hurriedly pick up his youngest children, blankets and all, in his arms. Running out of the room he stopped at the sound of his sons calling for him. Relief filled him as he realizes that his other sons where unharmed. 'Thank god. I don't know what I'd do if they got hurt,' He thinks in a jumble of thoughts. 'I've got to get them out. They have to get out. Alex and Sam have to get out of here, safe with Harper and Dean.'

"Dad!" Harper calls out in fear.

"Daddy!" Dean cries in terror.

The young boy's cries have John quickly handing Alex to Dean and Sam to Harper. He looks Harper in the eyes and hurriedly starts talking. He knows Harper would take care of his younger brothers. "Take your brothers outside as fast as you can. Don't look back. Now Harper, go!" He orders hastily. Harper nods and grabs Dean's arm. Harper runs down the hallway with his grip on Dean's arm tight.

John watches his sons go before he runs back into the nursery and noticed the whole room is almost in flames. He uses his arms to block the heat from his face and continues to fight to save his wife. "No! Mary!" He yells out in anguish before turning on his heel and running out of the room and down the hallway, following after his sons.

Harper makes his way out the front door with Sam in his arms and Dean holding onto Alex. Harper tries to console his baby brothers, all three of them, but is unsuccessful as he too tries to contain his terror. The four siblings have no clue about what is happening. Harper pauses half way down the front lawn and looks up at nursery window and sees the glow of flames. Looking down he can still hear his brother's crying. "It's okay Sammy. I'm here," He murmurs softly, trying to calm the crying baby. "Dean…Alex, you're okay, I'm here and I'll protect you, I promise." Harper vows. He tries to fight off the tears in his own eyes. He knows his mommy is hurt. He just hopes his daddy got her out okay. Dean sniffles and raises his small arms for his older brother to take Alex. With practiced ease, the eight-year-old holds both Alex and Sam in his arms. Wiping his face, Dean leans forward and lays his head on his brother's shoulder.

John exits out of the front door and swings Dean into his arms while grabbing Harper's shoulder. He pushes the older boy beside him to run. Harper holds the twins in a carefully tight grip so he doesn't accidentally drop them. Dean wraps his arms tightly around his father's neck. John and Harper run across the grassy front yard and towards the end of the driveway. Behind them the nursery window explodes outward, causing Sam and Alex to cry louder and Dean to look around in confusion and panic as he realizes his mommy wasn't with his father. Harper ignores the pounding of his heart and the pain he feels at the realization that his mother is not with them. "I gotcha." John declares gently to his crying sons.

"Shh…I've got you Sam, Alex." Harper whispers soothingly as he continues to run beside his father.

An ambulance and a fire truck pull up to the burning house a few minutes later. The firemen grab a hose and jog over to the flaming house. The sounds of people yelling can be heard over the sirens as police try to push away onlookers.

John silently sits atop his black 1967 Chevy Impala with Dean on his right beside him, leaning against him. Harper sits on his left and is silently staring in front of him while he holds little Sam who has finally gone silent. Little Alex is held tightly but gently in his father's arms. John looks at his four children with grief and pain filled eyes but his face is a blank mask.

Chapter Text

Missouri Mosley's Home

November 7th, 1983 


John Winchester leans over towards the passenger side of the black Impala. His eyes look at the Victorian home that supposedly holds a psychic; a psychic that would be able to help him find out what had brutally killed his wife. He has searched through the phone book over the last five and a half days to find a psychic that could help him. The last five have been unsuccessful. He hopes this one is the real deal. He leans back into the driver side of the care and looks over at his silent son. Harper, the former chatterbox and happy eight-year-old, is now a silent and sullen boy ever since the tragic death of his mother. "Hey Harp, help me get your brother's up." John quietly tells the child.

Harper doesn't respond verbally and only nods in understanding at his father. He opens the passenger side door and slides out of the car, leaving the door open. He waits patiently while his father pushes the front seat forward. With the seats tilted forward Harper climbs into the backseat and starts to release his baby brothers from their car seats. Harper looks over to the side and watches his father place the twin's strollers on the sidewalk. With a small sigh the dark haired boy lifts baby Alex up into his arms.

The six-month-old startles at the sudden movement before cuddling into Harper's arms. The older boy shakes his head silently and carefully gets out of the car with his brother in his arms. He bends down and straps Alexander into the stroller's seat. John kneels into the backseat of the car and tries to wake Dean up. The four-year-old remains oblivious to the gentle shaking and noises around him. John allows a soft smile to spread across his lips at the grumbling from Dean at being awoken in the middle of his nap. John glances from the corner of his eyes to see Harper strapping little Sammy into his stroller. His smiles grows a little wider at the small amused smile he can see gracing his oldest lips. It was nice to see his oldest smiling, if only a little bit.

"Come on Dean you need to wake up buddy," John says with a shade of exasperation coloring his voice. He shakes his head at the fruitlessness of his endeavor and finally lifts the child up into his arms. He leaves the front seats pushed up and only shuts and locks the car. Walking around the car he stands on the curb beside his oldest.

John feels a chaotic influx of emotions that makes him feel like he's suffocating slowly. It was an unpleasant sensation to experience. He can't recall the last time he has had a decent sleep. He turns and looks down at Harper with a frown of concern appearing at the state of his oldest child. He knows his son has the same difficulty trying to sleep. John has awoken every night since Mary's death to the sound of his son crying. He has spent those nights just holding his child, as he cries for his mother and the unfairness of it all, while trying not to cry himself. He hates seeing his children like this. He knows Dean and the twins don't fully understand what is going on, but he's had his fair share of Dean crying because he wanted Mary. He wonders how he's ever going to be able to explain what happened to her to the twin's when they get older and start asking question. Shaking his head he rubs his eyes with his free hand.

John sighs when he notices dark bags underneath the child's eyes. He'll have to find some way to get Harper to sleep better. "You got 'em Harper?" John inquires. He waits for his son's nod before the small family makes their trek to the front door.


Harper sit silently in the living room of Missouri Moseley's home. Bright green eyes scan over the room. His eyes look at the pictures hanging on the walls, bookshelves that stand on both sides of the doorways that lead into the kitchen and entrance hallway. They finally land on the young woman sitting across from his father in an arm chair. He can hear her talking to his father about what had happened to his mother. The eight-year-old blinks back tears at the thought of his mother. He gently holds his Dean who has thankfully remained asleep. "I'm so sorry John," the dark skinned woman sighs, "to lose her so ruthlessly…and left to raise your boys by yourself." A sad smile is directed at John who sits stoically on the couch beside Harper.

Harper's gaze is dragged away from the adults and towards the sound of whimpering coming from the stroller. Silently he adjusts his position on the couch so he is now sitting on the edge of the couch. He carefully adjusts his hold on Dean. "Shh…" Harper hushes softly and uses his left foot to slowly rock the stroller back and forth to keep the twins silent and asleep. He's uncomfortable in this position but he doesn't want to bother his father. It sounds like this conversation is important. Harper knows never to interrupt adults when they're speaking unless it's important.

"There isn't much I can tell you, to be truthful," the young woman begins. Her dark eyes are thoughtful as she gazes into John's. He opens his mouth to speak but is stopped when Missouri Mosley continues. "What I felt at your house..." she shakes her head, "whatever it was, it was evil and cruel… twisted," she states with a heavy sigh and a disturbed look in her eyes.

Missouri's eyes turn to look at the silent eight-year-old. She can clearly see the child's pain, sadness, and anger at what happened his mother. She can also see the power hidden in him and that is was slowly waiting to be released. "Such power…" she murmurs with a soft sad smile. She turns her gaze away and turns to look back at John. "Your wife, Mary had a deep dark secret that she never wanted you to know about." There's a pause when she contemplates telling him the truth. "She was a hunter and none of that animal huntin' neither." Missouri firmly replies before John can demand what she means. "She hunted the things in the dark. Every myth you know she hunted. She hunted the monsters that hide in the dark."

John Winchester sits in a frozen silence. Shock and surprise is clearly seen across his face as he stares back at the other woman. "Wha– How?" He finally utters with wide eyes. His hands roughly rub his face with disbelief. Could this be possible? Could his Mary have been killed by something out of nightmares and myths? His resolve hardens at the answer he already knows in his heart. He knows deep down that it's the truth. His Mary had been killed by one of those things that hide in the night. "What do I do? How do I find the thing that killed her?" John questions as he looks from Missouri and over to Harper. He would get his revenge for his wife and children. He'd do it for Harper and Dean who had her taken so suddenly. He'd do it for Alexander and Samuel who would never get to know her and know what a wonderful mother she was.

Missouri instinctively knew that she couldn't change John Winchesters mind. She knows that his boy's lives will be changed forever when he begins his crusade for revenge. She knows that the oldest of John's will have the weight of protecting his baby brothers, helping his father with his revenge, and caring for the man as well. "You can find Pastor Jim Murphy in Blue Earth, Minnesota. He's a Pastor at Salem Evangelical Church and he's very familiar with the Supernatural," Missouri begins. She watches John write down the name and location on a piece of paper. "A man named Caleb Orson is a hunter. He can be found in Fremont, Colorado. William Harvelle, he's also a hunter and can be found at Harvelle's Roadhouse in Nebraska. Then there's Bobby Singer who's a hunter as well. He runs Singer Salvage Yard in South Dakota."

"Thank you." John breathes out. His shoulders sag in relief at finding help. A weight had fallen on his shoulders about what had killed his wife and what she was. But with this information there were people to help him find it.

"You're welcome." Missouri says with a soft look on her features. "You just make sure you take care of those boys," she smiles at the sleeping children and Harper.

"You ready to go buddy?" John questions as he stands from the couch. He's ready to move and head towards Minnesota to get some answers. Harper gives a small nod at his father's question. He hesitates when his father bends down to take Dean from his arms.

Missouri instantly notices his hesitancy and can already see the loss of the rest of his childhood. The boy has already changed.

Harper slowly releases his tight hold on his brother and lets his father take him. His left foot drops to the floor and he slowly stands. He keeps the discomfort he has from being in that position to himself.

Harper grabs the stroller and follows his father out to the Impala. While he listens to what his father is saying to him, his full focus is on Dean. He watches his younger brother closely and then glances down at Sam and Alex to make sure they're still asleep too. The feeling of change settles heavily on his mind as he gets settled in the front seat after strapping Sam and Alex inside. He knew his old life was over and that a new one was going to take its' place.

Three Years Later 

Los Angeles County, California

August 15th, 1986 

Route 66

They have been driving throughout the day and partway through the night to reach a hunter by the name of Bill Harvelle for his help with a hunt. His father was too cautious to hunt with just him. From what his father has told him, Hellspawns are nasty sons of ah bitches. The eleven-year-old turns his eyes towards the backseat to check on his seven-year-old brother and three-year-old twin brothers. Dean was busy trying to keep his younger brothers preoccupied. The twins seemed to be in no mood to pay any attention to their big brother and were trying to see how much of a mess they could make in a short time period.

"Dudes cool it," The oldest Winchester sibling states as he turns around in his seat so he can face his baby brothers. He raises an eyebrow in amusement and dread at the mess smeared across the twin's faces, hair and hands. "What did you give them Dean?" Harper inquires with a shake of his head.

"Food." Dean replies in a "duh" tone.

Harper glares at his brother and sighs with a roll of his eyes. "I know that dumb ass," the preteen snaps.

"Watch your mouth Harper." John orders gruffly from the driver seat. He head turns to glance at his oldest. "I don't want your brother's learning that kind of language," he states firmly. Where had his son heard that kind of language? Maybe he should keep the boy away from other hunters from now on. At least until he's a little older and can handle that kind of language. His resolve wouldn't last long he knows. John Winchester will soon forget about it when a new case of something supernatural occurring.

"Sorry sir." Harper apologizes with a frown. "But seriously Dean, what did you give them?" He demands, "Do you know how long it takes to wash them? It's gonna take me even longer tonight with the twins covered in that sh–," he stops himself from continuing at the sharp look his father gives him.

'At only eleven years old and Harper is already cursing', John thinks to himself. 'Mary would be so proud .' He adds sarcastically to himself.

"Stuff," Harper finishes with an innocent smile at his father.

John only looks at him in amusement and shakes his head.

"They had banana and peanut butter sandwiches with ice cream as desert." Dean admits after a few moments of silence. An angelic expression appears on his face as he looks at his big brother. He notices the burgeoning anger on the other boy's face and realizes that perhaps telling the older boy what he had given the twins was not such a good idea.

"You little fuck-" Harper began furiously. In a split second he was half way over the seat to reach where Dean was sitting.

"Harper James Winchester!" John shouts over his oldest son's angry threats and Dean's frightened squeaks. "What did I just tell you about cursing in front of your brothers?" John demands as he reaches out with his right hand and roughly yanks the older boy by the back of the shirt back down into his seat. The twins start crying at the loud yelling coming from their brother and father. "Hush, Alex, Sam," John soothes his youngest. They sniffle and pout as they calm down.

"I'm gonna kill that little-" Harper stops himself and takes a deep and calming breath. He knows Dean, the little shit, had given their baby brothers those sandwiches and ice cream on purpose. He's always trying to test his limits and to piss him off and make his life more difficult. He knows Dean doesn't realize what kind of weight he had on his shoulders. That he has to take care of him, their twin brothers, their father, and keep up with both hunting and school work. He's just thankful that he's going to be twelve next year and in the sixth grade.

"Now, you're all going to sit silently for the rest of the ride and if I so much as hear a peep from either of you, Harper, Dean, you'll get a butt kicking you don't want." John threatens in an annoyed tone of voice. The two boys know what he means by that. Their father would never abuse them physically, but spankings and hard chores were quite possible. They both slide silently down in their seats and do not talk as their father ordered. It was going to be a long drive.

Lucky 13 Motel


Dean smiles in amusement from the doorway of the motel bathroom as Sam and Alex scream and giggle insanely while they happily play in the bathtub with each other. He nearly bursts into laughter at the exasperated expression on Harper's face. It was always a hassle to wash both of the twins at the same time, and it's even worse when they were hyped up on sugar. Dean knew his brother blamed him completely for giving the twins the banana and peanut butter sandwiches with ice cream for dessert.

"Dean I swear to God or whatever being that exists that if you even think of laughing I'm going to lock you outside for the rest of the night." Harper promises as he's splashed with a wave of water from the two younger boys. He glares playfully at Sam and Alex who smile with full sets of baby teeth. He remembers the hell that came when they both began to teeth. One toddler was hard enough to deal with, but adding a second was a nightmare. It was even worse because they went hunting on top of that. During those days sleep was just a myth.

"You wouldn't!" Dean denies with a firm shake of his head. However he isn't so sure internally. He can still remember the time Harper tied him to the bedpost when he consistently pestered his big brother for some ice cream. Their father had not been happy with Harper. He had given his big brother a firm talking to but Harper had found it amusing and well worth the lecture.

"Try me." Harper challenges with a raised eyebrow. He knows he wouldn't actually do it. He knows what's in the dark while his brother don't. He blinks rapidly as yet another wave of water splashes out of the tub and onto him. He sputters and coughs as water drips down his face. He knows he most likely looks like a drowned rat. "Alright you two bath time is over." He firmly announces.

"Nooo Harper!" The twins yell in chorus. The sound of his name sounds more like Har-puh than Har-per . Identical puppy dog eyes gaze up at the older boy, silently begging for a little more time. Harper can't get over how different but similar the twins look while similar in personality. Sam has lighter brown hair while Alex's hair is a darker brown, but both are rather shaggy in their natural state. Alex's eyes are a sea green in color, but his were blue than green while Sam's sea green eyes are more green then blue. Both their skin tones are the same light tan from being outside often.

Harper shakes his head and reaches for their towels. He quickly picks Sam up and wraps him with the green towel before he sets the small boy back down. He then picks up Alex and wraps him in a towel and dries him off. "Dean, watch them while I drain the bathtub," Harper orders as he sets the other boy beside his brother and turns to drain the bathtub.

Harper straightens and cracks his back from bending over the tub to wash his baby brothers. Turning around he pauses when he notices all three of his brothers are gone. "Dean!" Harper yells in annoyance as he steps out into motel's large room. He sees the two beds that are queen size and the shabby looking wooden table in front of the motel's only window. He notices the equally shabby couch placed before the table and the television sitting upon the long wooden dresser. He sees the small fridge in the corner of the room, set besides the small shelf filled with food. It was then he notices his brothers.

He watches with raised eyebrows as Sam and Alex run around the room butt naked screaming at the top of their lungs. Dean is lying on one of the beds watching the twins with amusement. He laughs as the twins continue running around.

"Yeah?" Dean questions with amusement in his hazel green eyes.

"You were..." Harper sighs with a shake of his head, "never mind." He reaches down as his brothers run past and picks up both of the little brats and hold them in his arms. Sam and Alex continue to scream and started to cry as their playtime is suddenly cut short. "Hey cool it." The raven-haired boy orders with a no-nonsense tone.

"Down. Down!" The twin's cried with pouts and tears in their eyes. "We don't want bed! We don't want dress!" They scream right into Harper's ears. He winces at the volume they have in their lungs.

"Stop being such drama queens," Harper says with a roll of his eyes. He carries the two children to their bed, which they share with Dean, and sets to changing them into their pajamas and putting them to bed.

It's nearly half an hour later before Sam and Alex are finally asleep in their beds with the pillows surrounding them so they won't fall off. It's nearly eleven at night and Harper is waiting for his father to come and take him on a hunt. Harper pauses near their father's bed and smiles softly at the sleeping form of Dean. He didn't even notice he had fallen asleep. Chuckling softly he walked over and gently lifts Dean from his uncomfortable position, half lying on the bed and half off.

Dean mumbles and groans in his sleep while curling into the pillow beside him. Harper shakes his head and pulls off his shoes, pants, shirts and tosses them onto one of the black duffel bags. He grabs the blue and black checkered pajamas. He swiftly dresses his brother into the shirt and pants. He has done this countless times since the death of their mother. Whenever Dean falls asleep still dressed in his day clothes he changes him into pajamas. The oldest Winchester sibling lifts the sheets and comforter over Dean's smaller form. Harper lovingly rubs the light brown hair and whispers a soft, "Goodnight," to the crashed out figure in the bed. Taking one last glance at the dreaming form, Harper steps back and over to his bag. He silently and efficiently readies the weapons his father has told him he would need. He goes over the other materials he's supposed to bring with them.


Devil's Gate Reservoir


Nighttime hunts were always the best ones for Harper and his father. It lets them leave while his younger brothers are asleep and unlikely to get into trouble. Of course Harper still hates the idea of leaving them alone, but he has monster proofed the room to the best of his ability. It was the best he could do while his brothers were by themselves until he and his father got back. Harper snaps to attention at the sound of heavy booted footsteps he recognizes as his fathers. He adjusts the bag's strap on his shoulder and quietly walks to the door. Glancing one last time around the room to make sure it was well protected. He nodded when he saw it was and slips out of the room and locks the door behind him. He hates leaving his brothers alone while he and his father hunt but he knew they were as protected as possible. "Ready to go Harp?" John inquires with a bright gleam in his eyes. Hunting always seems to make his father happy.

"Yes sir." Harper utters with a firm nod. Together father and son make their way down the hallway and towards the black '67 Chevy Impala. In the passenger seat of the car sits another figure, one that Harper is only vaguely familiar with. He has only met him and his family three times. "Mr. Harvelle." The raven-haired preteen greets with a friendly nod.

"Harper." Bill Harvelle replies with surprise that he was with them. "I'm surprised to see you coming with us," he says with a raised eyebrow towards John.

"Don't start with me Bill." John warns with a shake of his head. "I don't tell you how to raise your kids so don't start tellin' me how to raise mine." His jade green eyes clearly told the other hunter that there will be hell to pay if he makes another comment about Harper with them.

"Fair enough." Bill replies with a short nod of understanding and agreement. "And it's Bill, Harper. No need for that Mr. Harvelle shit," the man says with a friendly wink and smile.

John sighs at the curse. "I really should stop havin' Harper come with me on hunts with other hunters," the man remarks dryly. Perhaps he's to blame for his oldest son's crude language.

Bill raises an eyebrow with his amusement clear in his eyes. "And why is that?" The man inquires.

John scoffs and shakes his head. "You haven't heard my boy's language." He says and begins to tap his fingers against the steering wheel. "It can be downright nasty at times." He remarks offhandedly. The Impala purrs contently down the darkened highway, driving farther away from city life and deeper towards the Devil's Gate Reservoir.

Harper leans forward and places his arms upon the front seat with his head propped up on them. "I'm not that bad," the boy denies with a shake of his head and smirk. "I just…let it slip sometimes," he states with a small shrug as he looks at Bill with amusement shining his eerily bright green eyes. "Of course I've heard worst from dad but you don't hear me telling him not to do it."

Bill chuckles at the impish attitude the boy has. It was refreshing and reminds him of his Joe. "I like you kid," the older man announces with a smirk. "You give your daddy enough grief," his electric blue eyes glimmer in the dim light from streetlights when he turns to look at the boy. He feels his heartstrings pull as he looks at the boy. For such a young child he has a weight on his shoulders that no child should be forced to carry. Bill wonders if perhaps John is raising his boy's right. Last time he saw the Winchester boys he noticed Harper taking care of his baby brothers instead of acting like a boy his age should. Bill also noticed that Harper tries to keep his brothers oblivious to the life he and his father lead so they can remain as innocent as possible. It seems to have worked so far. Bill is proud of the boy's behavior, especially with how hard it must be for him to never truly know what it's like to be a child.

"I try not to." Harper replies with a shrug. "That's usually Dean's job." Brilliant green eyes sparkle with mischief and mirth. "Of course, the little brats enjoy torturing me," he sighs in exasperation.

"I don't know how you handle those boys John." Bill remarks with raised eyebrows. He could barely handle his Joseph and Joanna at times. To have to raise four boys, with only Harper helping to raise the younger ones, it must be difficult.

"I have Harper helping me." John responds in a dry tone as he glances at Bill before looking back to the road. He's anxious to get this hunt over with so he can start on the next one. With a flick of his finger John turns the left blinker on and turns onto a dirt road that leads into Devil's Gate Reservoir. The road is bumpy and uneven from potholes, bumps, and trenches.

The classic car pulls into an opening covered by trees and bushes; hiding the Impala from view. They step out of the car and walk silently through a meadow that leads to a river, a rocky cliff and a strange tunnel. "Who will be the bait?" Harper inquires. Bill shrugs carelessly and figures he might as well.

"That will be me. Yer daddy is more anxious to kill these sons of ah bitches than I am." Bill confides.

Harper nods slowly and doesn't remark on it. He knows what he's supposed to do. He's not meant to ask questions. He's only supposed to help his father and Bill with their hunt.

"Let's get this hunt finished." John says gruffly as he begins a salt line around the perimeter. Harper helps his father and Bill with the salt line. Harper never realizes that he forgot to connect a small part of the salt line together, which would protect Bill from harm. He was already becoming tired from the long day he's day dealing with his younger brother's. It also doesn't help that a child of his age was still up so late when he shouldn't be. It was saying something about the oldest Winchester son that he's becoming use to lack of sleep and staying up so late.

With their job done Harper and John head towards the tree line and sink into the darkness. It was nearly one in the morning and both were beginning to fill with energy for this hunt. They both kneel and wait in silence for the sound of the Hellspawn. Harper's stomach churns with anxiousness and nervousness. It's making his leg begin to bounce on its own accord. John too is eager for the hunt to begin, causing him to accidentally scuff the salt line with his foot. The two Winchester's freeze at the sight of something exiting the tunnel and nothing is stopping it.

It looks like smoke and sounds like a million flies. Bill, who is looking up at the sky, looks down just in time for the Hellspawn to fly right into him. Harper and John watch in horror as Bill Harvelle starts seizing; like a condemned man in an electric chair, except there is two voices emanating from his mouth. One is the thing; the Hellspawn. Harper and John rush into the clearing and raise their weapons at the thing inhabiting Bill's body.

The two Winchesters don't know what language the Hellspawn is speaking but its voice is horrible. The two watch with frozen shock and horror as the Hellspawn go straight for Bill and start to tear into him apart from the inside out. The Hellspawn are shredding from the inside out. Blood is gushing out from the steadily growing wound in his stomach. They watch with wide eyes as Bill finally collapses onto his knees. His arms are wrapped around his stomach and holding his intestines in his hands. They listen to the man choking on blood and praying to see his Ellen, Joseph and Joanna one last time. Harper's eyes burn with pained tears as Bill looks to the two of them with wide pleading eyes. "John, Harper, shoot me, please shoot me, John, Harper." The man pleads. A man rambling for death and to see his wife and children one last time. John and Harper silently cock the hammers of their guns before pulling the triggers.

It seemed like the catastrophic hunt lasted an eternity but it was over in less than fifteen minutes. Bill Harvelle was dead. Harper is silently shaking and fighting the urge to vomit at what just occurred. His shaking is barely noticeable while he continues to stare down at the blank eyes of Bill Harvelle. Harper opens his mouth to speak but pauses and closes his mouth. There was nothing he could think of to say. He felt horrified, disgusted and disbelieving at what has just occurred. "Help me move 'em Harp." John whispers reverently in the still silence of the reservoir. Harper snaps himself out of his shock and walks with his father towards Bill's unmoving body.

The two Winchesters silently lift Bill and carry him to the Impala. They gently set him down and head to the trunk of the Impala for blankets. John pulls them out and walks back to the side of the car and lays them out. They silently lift Bill's body again and set it on the blankets. They wrap him in them before placing him in the backseat of the car. John and Harper are suddenly thankful that they had taken the car seats out of the backseat before they had left a few hours earlier.

Harper moves silently away from the two and looks at the salt lines to see what has happened. His flashlight trails over the lines slowly. His stomach drops at the sight of his father's scruff mark and a part of the salt line not connected. His throat tightens and his eyes burn fiercely when he realizes what he too has done to Bill Harvelle. With wide eyes he turns away from the salt line and looks back at his father. He walks slowly up to him and the Impala. His eyes snap back towards the backseat, his eyes seemingly drawn to the shadowed figure.

"Dad?" Harper finally chokes out with tears his eyes away from the backseat and over to his father.

"Yeah Harp?" John asks softly. He looks down at his oldest son with pain filled eyes.

"W-what are we – what are we going to do about…Bill?" Harper questions with sad eyes and a frown on his lips.

John sighs and rubs his face harshly. He leans back and stares up at the night sky with a frown of his own. "We're gonna give im' a proper burial." John finally answers after a stifling few minutes.

"What about Ellen, Joseph, and Joanna?" The eleven-year-old questions. He feels horrible about what he and his father did, even if they hadn't purposely meant for it to happen. What they had created because of two small and stupid accidents.

John sighs, "We tell them what happened." This was the worst mistake he has made in his life thus far. He had been careless and stupid and it had gotten a good man killed. Who was a husband, a father and a damned good hunter? He doesn't know how he's going to explain this to Ellen, Joseph and Joanna. He frowns heavily at the thought. The poor girl, she's only four-years-old and her brother only is only eight-years-old. How is he going to tell them? He can't just let Ellen do it. He's responsible. And what of Harper? How is she going to deal with the idea that his son killed Bill as well if only to put the man out of his misery?

"It was an accident dad." Harper says softly but firmly. "You didn't know about the salt line getting messed up. You and I didn't know about the salt line not being connected and we helped Bill by taking him out of his misery." John wonders at times why he placed so much responsibility on his son. How could he handle knowing that he put so much pressure on such a young child's shoulders? Harper is his soldier, his oldest. The one he counts on to follow his orders without a question. To watch over his baby brothers without a sound of protest. How could he have done this to his son? It was far too late to change what he created. It will forever be on his shoulders that he made his oldest a soldier.

Was he a horrible father?

"It was a rookie mistake Harper." John replies with a heavy sigh. "We should have known better and now a good man is dead because of it." He doesn't mean to make it sound so harsh but it's the truth and nothing will ever change that. Nothing will ever change what they had had to do. "Let's give Bill the burial he deserves and then head to Ellen's." The older man slips into the Impala and turns the car on before rolling the windows down. It's time to move on and head to their next destination.

Harper quietly sits in the front seats passenger side. He stares out the window as his mind continues to flash back to Bill's death. It will weigh heavily on his mind for the rest of his life.