Memories

By Montez

Disclaimer: I do not own anything with regards to Supernatural and their characters, those belong to Eric Kripke and the CW. Neither do I own the characters created by Ridley James, creator of the wonderful AU Brotherhood Series, whom I will be using throughout my story. I hope I can keep my story to the standard to which the Brotherhood stories are written.

Chapter 1

Pastor Jim Murphy's farm in New Haven, Kentucky was a safe place, a peaceful place. John Winchester liked coming back to the not so small farmhouse, surrounded mostly by woods, though he'd never admit it. He had an image to uphold with the members of his 'new' family. These men never knew the John Winchester of before; the one who loved a woman so much it scared him, the man who wanted nothing more then to come home from work and play ball with his four-year old son. The man who would set for hours in the nursery of his youngest son, watching the baby sleep. Forever amazed that he had been a part of creating two such beautiful children.

Then that November night came and stole that man away. In those awful moments right in between hearing his wife's terrified scream to grabbing his boys from the front lawn as the windows of his home were blown out by an unearthly fire, John Winchester changed. He became hardened afterward; his two main focus's were on finding what had taken his wife, his life and protecting his boys.

Here at the farm John felt safe, felt the boys were safe. It was times like now when John watched from Jim's porch as three-year old Sammy and seven-year old Dean played with Jim's Lab, Atticus. Watching as the dog tried to get the stick from Sammy's toddler hands as Dean's laughter echoed across the property. These were the times when the real John Winchester would make an appearance. The John who would still wake in the night, tears streaming down his face from a dream/nightmare of what Mary was missing out on, what he was missing out on with her and how different the boys would be if their mother hadn't died that night.

John loved his boys so much it hurt, but he wanted to keep them safe. So, much to the dismay of his 'new' brothers; Pastor Jim Murphy and Dr. Mackland Ames, John trained his eldest son to protect his youngest. At the same time, John was also training Dean and soon Sammy as well, to follow in his footsteps tracking down all that was evil in the world, killing as many of the evil son of a bitch's as they could. At the top of that list was what had killed Mary and had forever changed him.

John barely turned as he heard the squeak of the screen door behind him as the man who had emerged made himself known. "Children's laughter is like music from Heaven." Pastor Jim's calm, quiet voice broke the silence of the porch as the echoess of laughter continued in the yard.

"Music from Heaven, huh?" John nearly whispered, his thoughts flooding with memories of Mary's laughter as she would joined Dean's fit of giggles when she would tickle the small boy. In a moment of unnatural openness John spoke again. "I can't loose them. They're all I have left of her." His voice was thick with emotion that Jim Murphy had only heard on one other occasion:

It had been shortly after meeting John when Jim had convinced the weary, slightly on edge man, to bring his children; Dean, four and baby Sammy, nine months, to his farm in New Haven. Jim wanted to explain more about the supernatural world John had so harshly been thrown into, as well as to introduce John to the world of the Brotherhood. The Brotherhood was a group of men who worked in the shadow of society, protecting the innocent from the evil that really did lurk in the dark. Jim recalled that time with a mixture of sorrow and hope. Sorrow at having to yet again witness what evil can do to a man, to a family. He recalled how unnaturally quiet Dean had been for a four-year old. The boy had already developed a world-weary look that no child should ever have. He also noticed how the older boy would not let his baby brother out of his sight. The Preacher remembered John mentioning that Dean had stopped talking the night of the fire, but nothing more was said.

On the second night the Winchester's were at the farm, Jim found John sitting in the hallway outside the room that had been fixed up for the boys. The Pastor's heart nearly broke as he looked on the hunched form of their father. John Winchester was by no means a small man. At six-foot, his height surpassed Jim's by two inches, plus being a former Marine and a mechanic by trade John also had an impressive muscular build. However, as Jim took in the broken man's appearance, John seemed to be shrinking into himself. The young father's head was resting on his arms which were crossed over-top his knees that were drawn close to his chest. Jim also noticed the slight shaking of the man's shoulders. Without saying a word the Preacher sat down across the hall from the broken man, offering silent support, praying that God would give him the strength and words to help the shattered soul across from him.

John's emotion filled voice broke the silence of the hall. "I don't know how to help him." Red-rimmed eye's met Jim's as John continued, "Mary was always the one who took care of them when they were sick or hurt. I don't know what to do to make him better, to make me better." The broken man's eyes pleaded for Jim to tell him what to do, to tell him how to make things right, but Jim wasn't sure he could.

Jim knew what John had told him about that night in November. He also knew of the 'read' Missouri had not only gotten from the house, but from the shattered family the evil had left behind. Missouri informed Jim that John was quickly trying to construct walls around his emotions, around his heart so he couldn't be hurt like that again. However, when Jim had asked her 'impression' of Dean she seemed puzzled. He remembered her saying that the little boy Dean had been before, died the night of the fire with his mother. The little boy left behind was still trying to find his place in a world without his mother. The child was holding such an unnatural fear of loosing his father and baby brother, that Dean had focused his sole existence to watching over his family, especially his brother. As long as his focus was on that, Missouri felt, then Dean didn't feel the need to interact with the outside world and until someone could get through the walls the four-year old was building around his family then silence was all anyone would get from the boy.

The Preacher cleared his throat, hoping, praying he'd say the right thing. "Jonathon, I can't begin to imagine what you're going through. I wish I had the magic words to say that would make the hurt go away, but I'm sorry to say I don't." Jim watched silent tears fall from John's eyes. "I can only say if you listen to your own heart you will find a way to get through to your son. He is going through the same things as you, but he doesn't see past today. He doesn't see that, in time, things will get better. I know it's hard for you to see that, but as much as you hurt, deep down, you know with time that heart-ripping pain will pass and though it will never go away completely, it will become bearable. Dean hasn't had the life experience for him to see past his pain and fear. You have to help him see that things can and will get better, that it will be okay to play and laugh again. You are helping your son by being here for him, just remember for one as young as Dean he needs to be reassured that it wasn't his fault his mother died and that you will always love him, just as you did before." John nodded slowly then lowered his head to his arms again. Jim took a chance and moved across the hall, gently placing a hand on the broken man's shoulder. When John covered it with his own, Jim knew John understood.

"I have a friend arriving tomorrow that I'd like you to meet." Jim quiet voice spoke again. "His name is Dr. Mackland Ames…"

John's head shot up looking almost frightened. "What kind of doctor?" John was fighting an urge to grab his son's and run. He wasn't crazy like some of his 'so called' friends back in Lawrence had whispered behind his back and even though John had accepted that Jim Murphy knew about the supernatural, he didn't fully trust the man yet.

Jim patted John's shoulder, sensing the man's flight instinct kicking in. "Don't worry Jonathon, Mackland is a Neurosurgeon by trade, but also possess some, shall we say, unique abilities not unlike Missouri's. He's also a hunter and member of the Brotherhood . He's bringing his teenage son, Caleb with him. Mackland adopted Caleb a few month's ago. He's thirteen. Caleb's life has also been tragically formed by the supernatural so they have some experience with all this that may actually help, perhaps even with Dean." Jim stood as he felt the muscles in John's shoulder relax a little. "Now, how about we get up off this floor and get some rest."

Jim reached down to help John up, who surprisingly accepted. "Thanks Jim…for everything." John spoke quietly.

"Not a problem my friend. I want my home to be a place of peace for you and your family. You will always be welcome and safe here." With that Jim headed back to his room as he heard John enter the boys room. Jim had fixed up a separate room for John, but he had been spending his nights in with his boys and Jim understood.

Jim was brought from his memories by the screen door slamming and a blur of dark hair running past as Caleb came racing out to join in the may lay as Atticus had finally gotten Sammy on the ground and was relentlessly licking the squealing three-year olds face. Jim and John watched as the teen grabbed Dean and proceeded to spin the seven-year old, releasing another fit of laughter. Though Caleb wanted to pretend to be older than his fifteen year, being around Dean and Sammy brought out the child in the sometimes brooding teen.

Returning back to John's comments, the Preacher spoke. "Jonathon, I told you back when you first came her, your family is safe here. Plus, you have additional family to help watch over them…" Jim's attention was again drawn to the yard, "…CALEB THOMAS REAVES, YOU STOP HOLDING THAT BOY UPSIDE DOWN!!" John chuckled as Jim reprimanded the teen who had managed to flip Dean upside-down and was proceeding to shake out the contents of the younger boy's pockets.

Caleb lowered Dean while shooting Jim a hurt look, "You know Jim, you sounded just like dad at that moment." Caleb gave one of his cocky grins that Dean had so desperately been trying to perfect.

"Speaking of your father, he should be arriving later this afternoon." Jim finished. John had remained silent as Jim had concluded talking to Caleb. Returning his look to John, Jim spoke again, "Is there something else to this feeling, Jonathon?"

Pain flickered in John's eyes for just a second as Jim watched. "I don't know, it's just…" John focused on the yard again as laughter erupted, "…the more I see, the more I learn about, I just worry that I can't protect them and if I loose focus they'll be snatched away." Looking at Jim now, the weary hunter ran his hand over his face, exhaling deeply. "I'm overreacting."

"No Jonathon, you're being a parent." Jim met John's perplexed gaze. "Every parent, even those who don't know what you do, fear something happening to their child. You just know a little more about what's out there then most, but I assure you, they're safe here. You've seen yourself this place is protected."

John nodded his head acknowledging the fact that not only was the farm consecrated ground, but for several hundred yards into the woods protections were in place. Not only what Jim had set up, but a few John himself had done, just for his own peace of mind. John watched as his boys ganged up on the older teen, who was now pinned to the ground being tickled relentlessly by the younger boys.

"Are you ready to head into town?" Jim asked, also watching the younger children's attack on the older one. He and John were heading into town to check old newspapers for research on a hunt.

"Yeah, give me a minute." John stepped from the porch, approaching the giggling, squirming mass in the yard. "Boys!" Instantly, Sammy and Dean stopped their attack on Caleb, coming to their father's side. John watched as Caleb pulled himself up off the ground and tried to straighten his cloths, composing himself from the young boys onslaught. "Letting them get the drop on you, maybe you need some more training there." John couldn't help the smile that crossed his face as the teen shot him a dirty look.

"Kiss my…"

"CALEB!" Jim's voice broke into Caleb's remark as he mouthed the rest so Jim couldn't hear. Everyone knew Jim frowned upon cursing, but with his farm being a meeting place for hunters it was hard to enforce it, but Jim did so if only with the younger generation.

John laughed as Caleb came to stand behind Sammy and Dean, then he dropped to one knee in front of his boys. "Jim and I are going into town to do some research. We'll be back in a few hours, but Mac should be here by then, until then Caleb's in charge…"

"Daaaddd…" Dean cut off his father as Caleb gave him a little shove.

"Dean, you know that's the rule, oldest is in charge. Now don't give him any trouble and watch out for your brother." John affectionately rubbed the top of Dean's head.

"Daddy, who do I watch?" Sammy's big eye's looked hopefully at his father, so eager to please.

'Sammy, my boy…" John stood scooping his smallest up with him, "Your job is to watch out for Atticus." Sammy's eyes lit-up as he threw his arms around his father's neck squeezing.

After a moment John sat the toddler down as Sammy proceeded to shake his brother's arm. "Deanie…I gots a job too!" Sammy rattled excitedly, jumping up and down.

"Great." Dean said, less than excited at having to watch after a running Sammy, chasing Atticus all day.

"Humor him, Ace." John squeezed Dean's shoulder.

"Yes sir." Dean took off after Sammy who was already chasing Atticus, fetch stick in hand.

"Caleb," The teen turned, looking at his mentor. "keep an eye on them."

"Hey!" Caleb threw his hand's out to his side, arching his eyebrow and with his trademark smirk replied, "I'm the glorified nanny!" As the teen turned to join the boys, John gave him a playful clip on the back of the head.

"And don't you forget it!" The humor evident as John headed toward the Impala where Pastor Jim was waiting.

A/N: I want to take a moment to thank the wonderful person who has agreed to Beta for me: Sensue. Your stories are wonderful, hope I can live up to the standard of You, Ridley and all the other great Brotherhood writers. So if there are any really bad errors they are all mine. Montez