At first he couldn't believe it. Their luck, that is. No way in hell was there a crisis in his boys' school, which he had double checked. Okay, by double checked- maybe he had asked Dean to do the checking. But Dean did not freak out over minor things, that much of his son he knew. One look at his son's text and he was turning the steering wheel in the opposite direction to his original destination. John was worried but he wouldn't let it show.

Apparently, Dean's suspicions at this age did not cater to only students but also teachers. All John could hope for was that it was a false alarm. Then they could all go back home and he could reprimand his son. Because if what the text said was true then John better be prepared to face the consequences for not ensuring his sons' school to be safe. A beatdown from Bobby wouldn't be enough to cover his guilt. Then Sam would be brooding and telling John how much of a bad job he was doing. It seemed like only yesterday Sammy was referring to himself in the third person.

Two more lefts and he'd be back in the town, according to the map on the dashboard. John wanted to remove one of the cassetes and play it then thought that it would feel a bit weird. Trying to enjoy a car ride while his sons may as well be on their way to join his wife in heaven. No, he wouldn't think of Sam and Dean as anything but alive.

Upon reaching the school, he parked the car haphazardly and rushed to the trunk. John hefted a bag full of weapons of all kinds but specialising in demons and ran inside the ominous building. The school was emptier than he would've expected it to be. Not a single soul was roaming the hallways and the classrooms were all empty. Where was everyone?

The second floor classrooms yielded no luck until he turned a corner. There was only noise pouring out of that room, not the shrieks of kids or shouts of teachers asking them to be quiet. More like the sounds of tables and chairs being thrown around followed by a scream. He slid his silver knife out and hid it between his sleeve and palm. Switching off the aafety in his gun he pointed it at the people inside. John would never be prepared for the scene in front of him.

There were teenagers all around. Some inside the classroom, some outside. The ones outside were all silent but the look on their faces showed their fright. It was the ones inside that caught John's attention. He moved closer inside the room and stood there scanning the scene. There were a few kids standing in the corner like they didn't want to be part of he party. The only difference was all their eyes were black. Pure onyx that absorbed instead of reflecting light. All the other kids were either attacking a teacher or following one who was ganging up on a couple of kids in a corner. He put his gun back in his pocket.

The couple of aforementioned kids were his own, John realised. Both of them turned to see John. Without thinking, he shouted.

"SAM! DEAN!" Sam shook his head in protest. Maybe warning.

"You guys okay?" He asked right before he was thrown to the ground. Ow. The knife in his hand came into full view and he attacked the demon. Just before he slashed it he realised that it was probably holding an innocent kid hostage. Instead he clocked the demon a bit too hard and recited the exorcism. Which should've worked. The demon moved around a bit but didn't leave the kid's body. Smoke started coming out of the kid's mouth but settled soon. That wasn't possible. That shouldn't be possible. He thought of all the hybrid monsters that he knew of. John pocketed the knife.

The kid-demon in front of him attacked again. It tried for a chokehold but John stopped it just in time. He pinned its arms and fished around in its pockets.

A-ha! John removed his lighter to burn the hex bag when all the left out kid-demons surrounded him. He set the hex bag on fire and threw it away. A blonde girl in pigtails sent a kick his way. He caught her leg and punched her in the face all the while apologising. The other demons pinned him down and John was sure that he would have bruised knees the next day. He reached out a bit on the flailing side and removed the hex bag from the girl's hands. Thank god her dress didn't have pockets. The binding spell was now erased after he burned that hex bag too. Next kid, then.

While fighting he started saying the exorcism. It was a bit like playing extreme Twister. Someone grabbed his leg and John turned and kicked with all the force he could muster, drawing blood. He removed the hex bag and burnt that one too throwing it all into a corner. There was someone behind him that started helping him. The teacher from before. The job would be easier that way. Some kids were now demon free. They fell back and John could only hope they were alive. More kids joined the fight and out of the corner of his eye he saw the teacher-demon move towards Sam and Dean. He tried to get out of the group that was fighting which effectively got him a split lip and black eye. Oh well.

Even in hunting, though, there was a moral code and it involved the number of kids killed by him being zero. It won't matter if the kid was being possesed. He didn't want to do it but more importantly he didn't want Sam to see him do it. The last ounces of trust the kid may have had in him would be very well vanquished if he so much as hurt a hair on the head of any child. Yes, Sam would be afraid of him but by then John would be afraid of himself.

John removed the blade from his back pocket and used it's hilt against the redhead in front of him. He rolled away from the group and ran towards his children who were currently cornered by a possesed teacher. They had nothing to use as a weapon except for the Bowie Dean usually had on him. That was currently on the other side of the room.

He jumped on the possesed teacher and held his blade to his throat. John suddenly had an irrational thought that the demon in his hands might all of a sudden escape. That should be a relief but it wasn't. He was actually afraid that the killer might leave everyone alone. He was turning into one of the things he hunted.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn't realise when he demon growled and Sam and Dean jerked harder into the wall. His oldest cried out and John swore that was the last straw. His anger fuelled him into doing something he never would have done, into pushing the blade a little further inside the neck of his enemy. The only thing that stopped him was Sam's too loud cry of "Dad, no!"

This...this was a human in his hands. One who's being used currently. He dropped th blade and held his hand just a little too tight on the demon's throat feeling a little red seep into his hands. Which was a mistake because the second the demon saw the blade lying on the floor it used it's abilities to lift it up in the air. The blade was headed straight for Sam's neck and John started reciting the exorcism once again. The demon twitched in his hands and its eyes moved also making the blade move away from Sam.

Thank god.

John took back the last thought in his mind when he heard Dean gasp out loud, making him look up from his search for the hex bag. The blade was embedded firmly in Dean's right shoulder, maybe a little down. A steady stream of blood was flowing from it followed by a couple of more rivulets. Demon or not, his kid was pinned to the wall. The sight of his child's blood made him want to throw up and cry at the same time. This was never supposed to happen. Sure Sam and Dean got hurt on hunts, but never like his. Never on this level.

Sam was glaring daggers at the demon and Dean looked like he was trying not to cry. When John found the hexbag in one of the back pockets he didn't hesitate to ight it on fire.

"Exorcizamus..." He hadn't finished reciting it before he ran towards Sam and Dean. Without the demon's powers to hold him up Dean was slumping forward and trying not to, the knife detering his process. He was gritting his teeth and let out a pain filled yell that made John's heart clench.

Sam was whispering encouragements while trying to hold his brother up in order to cause as less pain as possible. John placed his hand on the hikt and looked up at his son.

"Dean, -"

"Yeah. I know. Just do it quick."

With a nod John pulled back the blade as fast as he could and covered the area with his hand to staunch the bleeding. Dean yelled before falling iinto his and Sam's arms silently.

"Dad?" Sam's voice held trepidation amd John's worry increased tenfold.

"He'll be okay Sammy. Just wait and watch."

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And wait they did. Someone had called 911, most probably the other teacher slash hunter. John had later discovered that most of the kids had collapsed from their bouts of demon possession. The cops were calling it an epidemic. Of exactly what, John didn't know and didn't care.

The wait in the hospital had been long but the doctor informed him the Dean would be okay. He'd just be sporting a cast for a while. The concussion had been bad but the MRI showed no signs of brain damage. The blood loss hadn't been too bad and the doctors had been more worried about any damage to ligaments or tendons or muscle or something. None of it was too bad though, and John realised how lucky he had been, his boys had been.

He looked back at Dean who he realised was staring at him from the hospital bed.

"What?" He asked.

"Nothing," Dean replied. His gaze flicked to the image of Sam sleeping in the other chair in the room, snoring softly.

"How you doing, kid? And I want an honest answer." But they both knew 'honesty' wasn't a card played often by the Winchesters.

"Well, considering the fact that both my hands are tied, literally, Sammy will be taking advantage of that and I personally... am going to milk it. So,.. awesome."

John knew that that was nowhere even close to honest, but it was he most he would be getting out of Dean. He let it be. John promised himself that it would be that way only for the time being but deep inside he knew that that wasn't going to be the case. They'd move on and maybe even not remember a lot of this incident but they would definitely never forget. And that was when John counted his blessings, the fact that they would be laughing about this fiasco a few days from now. Maybe not Sam, but he was still thankful.

He was glad and for once in his life, in a twisted way, he was truly happy in his moment. He hoped it would last long. But that was impossible with a teenage Sam in the house. He chuckled and sent a silent prayer to Mary for what she had given him. The real blessings in his life.