DISCLAIMER: I don't own any of these characters… except the doggies.

WARNING: Some graphic images.

MAJOR HUMONGOUS SAMMY SIZED SPOILERS for "Jump the Shark". Also brief mentions of events in "Dead Man's Blood" and "After School Special"

John leaned back contentedly as he drained the last drop of beer. And he spent the rest of Eternity happily ever after…

… Or did he?

Years had passed. It could have been centuries for all John knew. He spent his days out on the lawn grilling meat, drinking beer and chatting with his new friends. Nights were spent sleeping in a comfy bed dreaming of good times with his sons and the hunts that went well. In the mornings, he would awaken refreshed and ready to start the day all over again. He and his neighbors all agreed that this was about as close to perfect as they could ever hope for.

The only regret he had was that the WEEKLY NEWS wasn't delivered to this part of the Afterworld. It would have been nice to be able to keep up with what his boys were doing and to know if they were all right. He missed them. He worried about them. He wished there was some way he could still watch over them and guide them. And in the midst of all the beer, barbeque and pleasant conversation, he couldn't shake the nagging feeling that he'd forgotten about something very important...

"You're miles away as usual, Winchester," Dan Connor noted as he flipped a thick burger on the grill, "Thinking about your boys again?"

"Is it that obvious?" John chuckled.

"Hey, we all miss our kids," Connor shrugged, passing John a beer, "But at least we have our memories. Between the four of us, we've got an Eternity of stories to swap!"

"Yes indeed!" Addams said with a devilish gleam in his eyes, "Tell us again about the time you and your sons raided that Vampire Nest to retrieve the Colt! And spare no details about each and every decapitation!"

"Please! I am eating!" Hank Hill groaned, "I'd rather hear about your werewolf hunt in the Summer of '97. That one had camping in it at least."

"Yeah, didn't you ever just take your boys out camping or fishing or some other wholesome father/son activities when there wasn't some monster to hunt?" Connor wanted to know.

"There was always a monster to hunt," John shook his head, "But I do have vague memories of fishing and camping and even a ballgame. But that wasn't with Sam and Dean. That was..."

Suddenly, John felt something tugging at his pants leg. He looked down to see a small brown dog with a wooly coat and floppy ears chewing and pulling at the hem of his jeans. The dog looked up at him, its soulful button eyes blinking through a shaggy mass of fur. John cocked a bemused eyebrow at the creature.

"Whose doggie?" he asked looking back to his friends.

To his astonishment all three men were staring back at him, ashen faced and frozen in horror. Addams's cigar slid out of his mouth and Hill let his beer slip from his fingers to shatter on the patio steps below.

"Guys?" John said in concern, "What's the matter?"

And then he heard it. A low growl coming from just beyond the picket fence surrounding the yard.

"Guys...?" John questioned again.

The clatter of plates, spilt beer and hastily dropped barbeque tongs was his only reply as the other men fled at once into their respective homes leaving John alone and exposed.

And then the air was filled with a cacophony of high pitched yips and yowls as the fence began to tremble from some unseen force. John made a move to retreat into his own home but a pair of fluffy paws wrapped around his ankle holding him firmly in place. The tiny dog at his feet bared its small sharp teeth through a thick muzzle of curly fur. In the next instant, the fence was downed and dozens of similar dogs of varying colors and sizes sat growling, their teeth bared, their button eyes fixed directly on John.

Realization dawned on him at once. He knew what they were. He knew they had come for him. What he didn't know was why. There was no time to ponder the matter, however, for in a flurry of fluffy fur and a clamor of pedicured paws the Hell Labradoodles attacked!

John cried out as he was knocked down by the brute force of those shaggy dogs, their teeth tugging at his clothes, dragging him bodily across the lawn. He struggled against them, his fists and feet striking out only to bounce back ineffectually as they made contact with the dogs' thick wool coats.

"Let me go!" John roared, "Let me go you mixed up mutt Sonsof...BLAH!"

He gagged as the smallest dog forced its muzzle into his face, licking over his beard and mouth in a trail of slobber.

The dogs bore him up as they made their way out onto the street towards an open manhole.

"No! No! No!" John screamed, "Not the sewer! Not the sewer!"

He reached out, his hands clawing against the asphalt as he struggled desperately for purchase. The Hell Labradoodles merely nipped and licked at his fingers, breaking any hold he managed to grasp and soon he was falling down into the dank dark hole. He squeezed his eyes shut, screaming as his body tumbled in a downward spiral.

And then he landed suddenly with a splash, face down in the swampy mud.

"What the FUGH!" he began before the littlest Labradoodle cut him off with another sloppy doggie kiss.

The Hell Puppy snuffled and slurped affectionately over John's various scrapes and scratches before scampering off into the distance leaving him to pull himself up from the mud and take in his new surroundings.

He recognized the neighborhood at once, as well as his neighbors.

"Oh... Here's Johnny," Jack Torrance said, cocking an eyebrow over his playing cards, "Johnny Winchester, that is..."

"Just can't stay out of trouble, eh Johnny boy?" Darth Vader intoned, raising a cigar to his mask.

"Heh. Flanders sucks!" Homer Simpson snickered idly running his hands through a pile of poker chips.

"Ah! Finally a looker down here!" a woman John had never seen before said lustily, "I'm Pamela. Pamela Voorhees."

"She tunneled her way over here from the special circle of Hell reserved for bad mothers," Torrance explained, "Never misses Poker night!"

"Oh, but I'm not really a bad mother," Mrs. Voorhees insisted, "I loved my sweet baby Jason! Here let me show you some pictures!"

"Ugh! Please! Not the photo album! This could go on all night," Vader heaved a deep sigh as the woman reached into her purse and then crawled over towards the puzzled John.

"Here he in his little head sack." she gushed, "He made it himself out of a pillow case. So creative, my Jason. And here he is with his hockey mask. Mommy's handsome little man... oh and here he's holding up his machete after his first kill! Mommy was so proud..."

"Excuse me!" John sputtered, "But what the Hell!"

"Ok, so maybe my Jason's not the most handsome or clever boy," Mrs. Voorhees pouted, "But he just needs a little male guidance. He needs a Step Father... Are you single?"

"I mean what the Hell am I doing here?" John exclaimed.

"Did you really think the Powers that Be wouldn't find out?" Torrance sneered.

"Find out about what?" John snapped, "Has something happened to Sam or Dean?"

"Well, let's see," Vader donned a large pair of spectacles and flipped open a copy of AFTERWORLD WEEKLY NEWS, "Dean is suffering from severe Post Traumatic Stress Disorder after spending the equivalent of 40 years in the Pit and Sam is guzzling down Demon Blood like there's no tomorrow. But that's not the problem. The real issue seems to be with your youngest son."

"Wait," John frowned in confusion, "You just said Sammy drinking Demon Blood wasn't the problem..."

"Precisely," Vader stated, "The real issue is with your youngest son."

"Don't tell us you don't remember," Torrance grinned mischievously, "19 years ago... Skanky nurse in Minnesota..."

"But... OH CRAP!" John gasped, a horrible realization dawning on him.

"Hi Dad." a youthful voice spoke up from behind.

John spun around to see a deathly pale and sullen teen standing on the outskirts of the swamp.

"Adam!" he cried, "Hello, son... uhh...G...good to see you. You're...ahh... you're looking well..."

The boy's face screwed up in fury as he lifted his tattered T-shirt to show his exposed entrails, eliciting a gasp from the onlookers.

"Oh dear," Mrs. Voorhees uttered, "Did my Jason do that to you?"

"No!" Adam sulked, "I got eaten by ghouls, Dad! The offspring of the ghoul you killed when you met Mom!"

"Oh my God," John croaked out, "Adam! Son, I'm so sorry..."

"Sorry doesn't put guts back in, Dad!" the teen huffed, "Sorry doesn't bring me back to life!"

"Adam," John stammered, "I truly am sorry this horrible thing happened to you. But what could I have done?"

"Oh, I don't know," the boy snapped, "Maybe some of the same combat training your other sons got? Maybe a little heads up that monsters were real... You know, something other than all the lame fishing trips and baseball games you took me to."

"Please try to understand, son," John said sadly, "I only did those fun things with you because I wanted you to have the life I couldn't give your brothers. When you came about, I saw you as a clean slate... a fresh start. I didn't want you to have to grow up knowing about all the horrors in the dark. I wanted you to live a normal life... not always looking out for monsters in the shadows..."

"Well, that's just super, Dad. 'Cause the monsters in the shadows still came and got me!"

The boy broke down suddenly.

"And now, I'm stuck for all Eternity in the special circle of Hell reserved for secret third siblings who were eaten by ghouls!" he sniffled, wiping his nose on his tattered sleeve, "Do you know what a lonely place that is? There's no one to keep me company but the forgotten Olsen triplet!"

A waifish blonde girl appeared suddenly behind Adam.

"Yeah, ghouls suck, ok?" she pouted.

John gaped briefly at the young woman before pulling himself together and turning back to his son.

"Adam... I'm really sorry. What else can I say? If I could find a way out of here, I swear I would hunt down the monsters who did this to you!"

"Don't even bother," the teen scoffed, "Your precious older sons have it covered... well Dean does at least. The ghouls tried to chow down on Sam, but Dean got there in the nick of time as usual."

"Yeah," John said proudly, "Dean always was good at looking out for his little brother."

"I wouldn't know," Adam snotted, "I was Dean's little brother too, but he didn't even know I existed... until I got eaten by a ghoul!"

"Yeah, we heard you the first thousand times, kid!" Torrance griped.

"Good Lord!" Vader spat, "This boy's whinier than my Luke! Chop his hand off, Winchester. That'll give him something to really whine about."

"Ghouls ate my hand, Mister!" Adam sassed.

"Are we gonna play cards or what?" Mrs. Voorhees snapped, "I didn't tunnel my way through the muck to listen to this brat yammer on all night! Forget what I said about wanting a Step Dad for Jason, Winchester. I don't think our boys would get along!"

"See ya around, Pops," Adam said taking the forgotten Olsen triplet's hand in his and stomping off, "Thanks for nothing!"

"Bye Todd, Jr." Homer called out to the young man.

John bowed his head in sorrow. No matter what he did, he always seemed to screw up in someway.

"Yo, Winchester!" Torrance interrupted his doleful thoughts, "Want in the game? We could use a better fourth."

He jerked his thumb towards Homer who was scratching his head as he stared at the cards in his hand.

"Go Fish!" he said at last, laying down a Royal Flush.

John stared after his youngest son fading in the distance, his heart breaking. It was too late for Adam. But maybe there was still a chance he could find a way to help Sam and Dean. He'd done it before after all and he could do it again. The Powers that Be couldn't keep him down here in the muck forever. He was John Winchester, damn it! Somehow, someday he would find a way to redeem himself. He would show them all! But in the meantime...

"Yeah, deal me in," he sighed settling down beside Mrs. Voorhees.

THE END

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Ah, Poor John. I actually hated to do that to him, but I felt I couldn't ignore "Jump the Shark" I tried to soften the blow by having the Hell Labradoodles lick his wounds and also tried to give him a little hope at the end.

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