Buggerit, I'll just post it.
Okay, had this one written for MONTHS. First I hated it, then I didn't, then it was awful, then it wasn't and now it's all mellowed out, so I'm going to post it.
Title: It All Went Wrong
Rating: G
Pairing/Characters: The Winchesters and their house. John/Mary.
Notes: ~3,200 words. References to Home (and the pilot).
Disclaimers: Not mine, making no money.
Summary: The story of the Winchesters told by the house where it all began.
As a house, I see many things that 'go on behind closed doors' as you would say. Some of these things I shall tell you today. But not everything, there are some doors that should remain firmly shut. The bedroom is one of these kinds of doors, more precisely, the master bedroom. The kitchen once as well, but let's not get into that.
It is my job and duty to protect and shelter my owners, in fact, it's the reason I was built and I take it very seriously, as do the rest of the houses in this neighbourhood. So, when a family moves in that has such danger following them that I haven't a hope of providing a single ounce of protection, I was left very distressed, you can probably imagine. Well, I was also left only partially standing, but that's another matter.
When they first moved in, the Winchesters, I mean, they were so happy. Or as happy as humans can be when moving house. Moving is a very stressful time for houses as well, what with saying goodbye to one family and then having to get to know another one, but humans just show it more. I could tell from the first moment that they were newlyweds and that I was their first proper house together. I straightened myself up as much as possible, none of this slight leaning that the house across the street is so prone to, and certainly no leaking! John and Mary just loved me, I was perfect for them!
They moved their furniture in shortly afterwards and that was a huge relief. My previous owners had had a set of particularly snobby chairs that I didn't get along with at all. Now, chairs are hardly brilliant conversationalists; they usually just like to tell you how many times they've been sat on that day, but even so, that set of chairs managed to be more pompous about it than any I've met before or since. It was a relief to find the Winchester furniture was much more agreeable.
John and Mary lived happily for a long while. I fell into the old routine: watching them go out to work, keeping all their things in order while they were out, being as bright as possible when they returned and then keeping watch over them while they slept. I'm very good at it now; I've been doing it for years. You may think that a house, an inanimate object, doesn't have much control over the environment around it but you'd be surprised. If you lived in a house that didn't care about you, you'd soon see the difference. I hope that never happens to you, though, you'd have an awful time.
So, back to what I was saying, something broke the routine one day, it seemed a very big deal that I didn't get until I saw Mary getting bigger by the day. I'd seen it before; she was constructing another human inside herself (I find it amazing how you do that, I just can't work out how). It seemed all too quickly that the big day came. One of my previously empty rooms was now beautifully decorated and decked out in small people's furniture. Baby's furniture, they told me. I was excited, I'd never had a baby before!
On the big day John rushed Mary out to the hospital. Mary looked in terrible pain and it was a wrench to watch her go but the house next door assured me she'd be fine and that hospital was the best place for her. Still, I was far happier when they returned to me the next day - three of them! I had a new name to learn and that name was Dean.
Dean was terrible trouble, he was up at all hours and gave his poor builders (though I've heard you call them parents) no rest at all. The house next door told me this was normal, that they'd been prepared for this and that Dean wasn't nearly as noisy as little Harvey Cotswold had been. After a while (I know I'm being vague but we houses just aren't as obsessed with time-keeping as you humans) Dean did quiet down. He began sleeping for longer and staying awake for longer and being just less of a nuisance in general.
Then one day, it happened, I saw why John and Mary put up with all his fuss. He was left alone in his play-pen (for only the shortest time, I wouldn't want you to think John or Mary were neglecting him) and he sat and gurgled and did nothing out of the ordinary and I don't know what it was. Possibly it was my sense of duty belatedly kicking in, but when I saw him staring at the sun shining through my windows with such awe, it finally hit me that this was a whole other human being that I had to shelter and that he would change into a full human eventually (grow is what you say, isn't it?). From that point on I was far more kindly towards him and in return he was even less of a problem for his builders, parents I mean, sorry. I knew that on some level a human can feel what a house thinks but that's the only time I've ever seen it really make a difference.
Dean grew ever so quickly, he shot up like the rose bush that grows in the garden a few doors down. He soon began to toddle, with the help of Mary and John and I tried to move my doors out of his way, really I did but when he was running full on without much balance, I really don't think I should be blamed for him smacking into my doors a few times. When he finally took to his feet full-time (I say full-time, but it wasn't really because he was tripping over things constantly and usually ended up back on the floor) I missed the feel of his soft little hands on my floor. But, not everyone can have the luxury of being completely stationary and I have to admit, two legs are better than four.
Dean was a happy child and I loved to spend my days watching him with his parents. I wondered how I could have ever disliked him. The way John and Mary's eyes lit up when they were around him, it was almost magical. Unless he was being a complete terror, of course. There was much less of a routine with Dean around, or perhaps I didn't notice it as much with such a tiring charge rushing around (some doors need to stick so he doesn't fall down the basement stairs, some doors have to open slightly so he doesn't get too scared of the dark, some walls have to have some give in them so he doesn't knock himself out on them, the garden has to have a particularly sharp eye on it so the plants don't get too unruly, it's very hard work!).
Then one day, something broke the half-routine we had again, but this time I knew exactly what it meant and I was even more excited than last time. I watched Mary getting bigger in anticipation. Dean was excited too, the whole family was, between us we had enough excitement for the whole street. Dean didn't really know what was going to happen, I could tell, but he wasn't scared and that was good.
Even though it had all happened before, when the three of them left me in the early hours of the morning, I was very anxious. The house next door kept whispering me reassurances, while my nerves frayed and unravelled. It was the afternoon by the time they came back to me, all four of them, all healthy. I listened intently for the new name. Samuel, Sammy for short.
I welcomed him with open doors and took special care to watch him. Obviously I couldn't abandon the rest of the family, I still watched Dean and Mary and John and took special care of them. They were usually all in the same room, anyway. I was looking forward to feeling Sammy walk, or crawl, my hallways and feeling his soft little hands on my floors, but that was not to be.
What I am about to tell you has the far end of the street calling me 'the madhouse' and tutting over how the stress caused me to see things and believe things. I know what it was I saw, I knew there was something wrong that night, ever since Dean got ready for bed, I could feel it. I didn't know what it was, I still don't know, but it was evil.
I started feeling uneasy, all over, I felt like I needed a very thorough spring clean and a redecorate. I ignored it at first but by the time Mary was thinking of going to bed I couldn't ignore it. I fretted over where it was coming from and found, to my horror, that it was gathering in the nursery. I tried to make it as unwelcome as I could, but I had no more effect on it than Sammy could have. That night was the one and only time I wished I could move. When the Feeling took a form, the form of a man standing over Sammy's crib, what I would have given to just fall on him there and then, to crush him and chase him away.
But I couldn't, not without crushing Sammy too. I could only look on as Mary peered in the door and mistook it for John. I tried to creak, to shut a door, to do something to warn her that everything was not fine, but I was just built too well. All I could do was flicker a light, a lonely signal telling her to turn around and go back and get that monster out! She didn't understand.
I watched in silence as she realised her mistake. I felt her slide up the wall to the ceiling, where no human has any right to be. Her scream ripped through me like the Feeling had ripped through her. No house should have to hear a family member scream like that.
My hope surged when John came running, John would know what to do, John always had a plan. Except that he didn't. I shivered as Mary's blood dripped onto my floor. I watched with just as much horror as John at Mary pinned to my ceiling bleeding openly. Then she burst into flame.
Pain as I had never felt before blinded me briefly. When I came back to myself John was handing Sammy to Dean, who had come out of his bedroom unnoticed (you can't blame me for missing that, can you?). I realised that if ever there was a time the Winchesters needed my protection, this was it. I made Dean's path to the front door as clear as I could, I almost threw the door open in front of him. At the same time I was trying to keep the flames at bay, or at least keep them away from John as he tried to grab Mary and pull her from my ceiling. But Mary wasn't there, I could feel that, Mary had moved elsewhere.
I held on for as long as I could after John left the nursery, trying to keep everything together, but it had been a very exhausting night. I saw that John had reached Dean and Sammy on the front lawn and I let go. My windows burst in a shower of glass and I was completely lost to the pain.
I came back into the waking world to find the fire almost out. The Feeling had left but I was uninhabitable. I could see John holding his boys, reassuring them and I tried to reach out to do the same for him, but I was very weak and I don't think he heard me.
After that night I was an eyesore on this once perfect street. News was passed to me from the house the Winchesters were now staying in. They sounded in a bad way. Dean wasn't saying a word and John had gone to pieces. They were only kept together by and for Sammy.
I was sad to hear this, I wished they would come by and I could give them a feeling of familiarity and calm. Except I couldn't, not looking like this, not after what happened in me. I knew there was another who felt the same way. It's quite hard to miss when a spirit binds to you and that's what Mary had done. She was there with me, both of us listening for news of our family and both of us wanting to do more for them.
John did come back once, bringing a woman called Missouri. She walked my broken floors and touched my flame-licked walls and I'm sure she could feel the sadness. She declared that there had been something there and it was gone now and that she couldn't make heads nor tails of it. Mary was only a weak presence back then and was overwhelmed by the evil that had been left behind.
Then, they left. The Winchesters disappeared off the face of the Earth. There was no hint of where they'd gone. I searched everywhere but one large problem of being stationary is that it makes searching unbelievably hard. Over the years, after I was rebuilt, I still kept vigilant for any sign of Winchesters. I heard some, too. Usually they were a different family of Winchesters, but if there was ever news of a Winchester with no known background (and this didn't happen too often, believe me) I assumed it was about one of my Winchesters and I took what solace I could find in that.
I never chose Winchester-hunting over watching my new families, you must understand. The family that lived in me still came first and foremost over all other things, I am a house, after all.
The evil that was left after that night attracted spirits and beings of all kind. I did my best to make them unwelcome, or usher my family to do what was necessary to get rid of them. Sometimes Mary helped in a small way. She was a nice person like that and even though she was saving her energy, she'd go out of her way if it looked like a poltergeist wanted to set up shop.
Still, one spirit was terribly persistent and all our efforts did nothing to dissuade it from staying. It hurt to once again be the one to house the thing that could harm my family.
Soon after that spirit came to stay I heard the growl of a familiar engine and I almost collapsed from the surprise of it. I watched carefully as two men stepped out of the car. Had it really been that long? Were little Dean and Sammy really as old as that? It couldn't be anyone else, I take great pride in knowing my past families and I wasn't going to forget that particular family in a hurry! I shivered when Dean and Sammy stepped onto my porch, it was such a joy to feel them again.
Jenny, my new owner, opened the door to them and we both welcomed them in. It was good to know they had survived the long years without me and I only hoped the same could be said for John. Sammy barely recognised me but Dean knew where everything was, not much had changed since he was last here. Well, when he was last here I was on fire but not much other than that had changed.
I was sad to see them go again but they held promises of returning. I was pleased to hear that but Mary seemed worried; that other spirit was getting out of control. This became only too clear when little Richie (Jenny's young son) was locked in the fridge, no matter how I tried to stop it. It was awful, it was like watching that night all over again, being helpless to stop anything. Luckily no one was hurt, but it showed that this spirit had to be put to a stop soon, otherwise I was going to have more dead family on my floor and that is one of my greatest fears.
Sammy and Dean returned with that Missouri woman and I was quite glad to see her. She was well prepared to take on the evil spirit but again, Mary was saving her energy and couldn't be recognised. Unfortunately taking on the evil spirit meant some pain for me, but I was perfectly willing to take it if it meant being a safe home once more.
Missouri checked me for spirits again once they had finished and proclaimed that there were none left. I tried so hard to get across that she was wrong (like I said earlier: it's hard to miss when a spirit binds itself to you) and maybe Sammy heard me, or maybe he could feel them himself, but he didn't believe Missouri. He was waiting outside with Dean when all hell broke loose.
They saved my Jenny and her children but to my horror, Sam was dragged back inside. I was not a safe place to be. I became overwhelmed with it all when Dean began chopping down my front door. The front door I'd flung open in front of him so many years ago and that I was trying so desperately to fling open again. I came back to myself to find that Mary had manifested. The pain and sorrow I felt in that room was more than just my own. I wished I could make it all better for them. I wished I could be the safe place to get away from everything when it's all too much again. But I'd never be that for them. I held too many memories. Then Mary was gone, truly gone and I realised how comforting it had been to have a tie to the Winchester family constantly with me. Now, I was alone. 'Normal' the house across the street said it was, normal houses don't have spirits and evil in them. I'll never be normal again. There'll always be the question asked of the salesman about my history and there'll always be the answer of a fire caused by a faulty light fitting. As if I'd ever have a faulty light fitting, I take far too much pride in myself.
And that was that. That was the last I heard and saw of the Winchesters. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad that Mary's at peace now, and even gladder that she took the other spirit with her so I can have a hope of protecting my family. I'm also glad that Dean and Sammy are alive and out there somewhere. I'll always keep a lookout for them and listen for any news and they'll always be welcome back, no matter what my current family says. Most of all, I shall always carry with me the memory of John, Mary, Dean and little Sammy before the world turned upside down.
The End.
Yeah, hope you liked it.
Title: It All Went Wrong
Rating: G
Pairing/Characters: The Winchesters and their house. John/Mary.
Notes: ~3,200 words. References to Home (and the pilot).
Disclaimers: Not mine, making no money.
Summary: The story of the Winchesters told by the house where it all began.
As a house, I see many things that 'go on behind closed doors' as you would say. Some of these things I shall tell you today. But not everything, there are some doors that should remain firmly shut. The bedroom is one of these kinds of doors, more precisely, the master bedroom. The kitchen once as well, but let's not get into that.
It is my job and duty to protect and shelter my owners, in fact, it's the reason I was built and I take it very seriously, as do the rest of the houses in this neighbourhood. So, when a family moves in that has such danger following them that I haven't a hope of providing a single ounce of protection, I was left very distressed, you can probably imagine. Well, I was also left only partially standing, but that's another matter.
When they first moved in, the Winchesters, I mean, they were so happy. Or as happy as humans can be when moving house. Moving is a very stressful time for houses as well, what with saying goodbye to one family and then having to get to know another one, but humans just show it more. I could tell from the first moment that they were newlyweds and that I was their first proper house together. I straightened myself up as much as possible, none of this slight leaning that the house across the street is so prone to, and certainly no leaking! John and Mary just loved me, I was perfect for them!
They moved their furniture in shortly afterwards and that was a huge relief. My previous owners had had a set of particularly snobby chairs that I didn't get along with at all. Now, chairs are hardly brilliant conversationalists; they usually just like to tell you how many times they've been sat on that day, but even so, that set of chairs managed to be more pompous about it than any I've met before or since. It was a relief to find the Winchester furniture was much more agreeable.
John and Mary lived happily for a long while. I fell into the old routine: watching them go out to work, keeping all their things in order while they were out, being as bright as possible when they returned and then keeping watch over them while they slept. I'm very good at it now; I've been doing it for years. You may think that a house, an inanimate object, doesn't have much control over the environment around it but you'd be surprised. If you lived in a house that didn't care about you, you'd soon see the difference. I hope that never happens to you, though, you'd have an awful time.
So, back to what I was saying, something broke the routine one day, it seemed a very big deal that I didn't get until I saw Mary getting bigger by the day. I'd seen it before; she was constructing another human inside herself (I find it amazing how you do that, I just can't work out how). It seemed all too quickly that the big day came. One of my previously empty rooms was now beautifully decorated and decked out in small people's furniture. Baby's furniture, they told me. I was excited, I'd never had a baby before!
On the big day John rushed Mary out to the hospital. Mary looked in terrible pain and it was a wrench to watch her go but the house next door assured me she'd be fine and that hospital was the best place for her. Still, I was far happier when they returned to me the next day - three of them! I had a new name to learn and that name was Dean.
Dean was terrible trouble, he was up at all hours and gave his poor builders (though I've heard you call them parents) no rest at all. The house next door told me this was normal, that they'd been prepared for this and that Dean wasn't nearly as noisy as little Harvey Cotswold had been. After a while (I know I'm being vague but we houses just aren't as obsessed with time-keeping as you humans) Dean did quiet down. He began sleeping for longer and staying awake for longer and being just less of a nuisance in general.
Then one day, it happened, I saw why John and Mary put up with all his fuss. He was left alone in his play-pen (for only the shortest time, I wouldn't want you to think John or Mary were neglecting him) and he sat and gurgled and did nothing out of the ordinary and I don't know what it was. Possibly it was my sense of duty belatedly kicking in, but when I saw him staring at the sun shining through my windows with such awe, it finally hit me that this was a whole other human being that I had to shelter and that he would change into a full human eventually (grow is what you say, isn't it?). From that point on I was far more kindly towards him and in return he was even less of a problem for his builders, parents I mean, sorry. I knew that on some level a human can feel what a house thinks but that's the only time I've ever seen it really make a difference.
Dean grew ever so quickly, he shot up like the rose bush that grows in the garden a few doors down. He soon began to toddle, with the help of Mary and John and I tried to move my doors out of his way, really I did but when he was running full on without much balance, I really don't think I should be blamed for him smacking into my doors a few times. When he finally took to his feet full-time (I say full-time, but it wasn't really because he was tripping over things constantly and usually ended up back on the floor) I missed the feel of his soft little hands on my floor. But, not everyone can have the luxury of being completely stationary and I have to admit, two legs are better than four.
Dean was a happy child and I loved to spend my days watching him with his parents. I wondered how I could have ever disliked him. The way John and Mary's eyes lit up when they were around him, it was almost magical. Unless he was being a complete terror, of course. There was much less of a routine with Dean around, or perhaps I didn't notice it as much with such a tiring charge rushing around (some doors need to stick so he doesn't fall down the basement stairs, some doors have to open slightly so he doesn't get too scared of the dark, some walls have to have some give in them so he doesn't knock himself out on them, the garden has to have a particularly sharp eye on it so the plants don't get too unruly, it's very hard work!).
Then one day, something broke the half-routine we had again, but this time I knew exactly what it meant and I was even more excited than last time. I watched Mary getting bigger in anticipation. Dean was excited too, the whole family was, between us we had enough excitement for the whole street. Dean didn't really know what was going to happen, I could tell, but he wasn't scared and that was good.
Even though it had all happened before, when the three of them left me in the early hours of the morning, I was very anxious. The house next door kept whispering me reassurances, while my nerves frayed and unravelled. It was the afternoon by the time they came back to me, all four of them, all healthy. I listened intently for the new name. Samuel, Sammy for short.
I welcomed him with open doors and took special care to watch him. Obviously I couldn't abandon the rest of the family, I still watched Dean and Mary and John and took special care of them. They were usually all in the same room, anyway. I was looking forward to feeling Sammy walk, or crawl, my hallways and feeling his soft little hands on my floors, but that was not to be.
What I am about to tell you has the far end of the street calling me 'the madhouse' and tutting over how the stress caused me to see things and believe things. I know what it was I saw, I knew there was something wrong that night, ever since Dean got ready for bed, I could feel it. I didn't know what it was, I still don't know, but it was evil.
I started feeling uneasy, all over, I felt like I needed a very thorough spring clean and a redecorate. I ignored it at first but by the time Mary was thinking of going to bed I couldn't ignore it. I fretted over where it was coming from and found, to my horror, that it was gathering in the nursery. I tried to make it as unwelcome as I could, but I had no more effect on it than Sammy could have. That night was the one and only time I wished I could move. When the Feeling took a form, the form of a man standing over Sammy's crib, what I would have given to just fall on him there and then, to crush him and chase him away.
But I couldn't, not without crushing Sammy too. I could only look on as Mary peered in the door and mistook it for John. I tried to creak, to shut a door, to do something to warn her that everything was not fine, but I was just built too well. All I could do was flicker a light, a lonely signal telling her to turn around and go back and get that monster out! She didn't understand.
I watched in silence as she realised her mistake. I felt her slide up the wall to the ceiling, where no human has any right to be. Her scream ripped through me like the Feeling had ripped through her. No house should have to hear a family member scream like that.
My hope surged when John came running, John would know what to do, John always had a plan. Except that he didn't. I shivered as Mary's blood dripped onto my floor. I watched with just as much horror as John at Mary pinned to my ceiling bleeding openly. Then she burst into flame.
Pain as I had never felt before blinded me briefly. When I came back to myself John was handing Sammy to Dean, who had come out of his bedroom unnoticed (you can't blame me for missing that, can you?). I realised that if ever there was a time the Winchesters needed my protection, this was it. I made Dean's path to the front door as clear as I could, I almost threw the door open in front of him. At the same time I was trying to keep the flames at bay, or at least keep them away from John as he tried to grab Mary and pull her from my ceiling. But Mary wasn't there, I could feel that, Mary had moved elsewhere.
I held on for as long as I could after John left the nursery, trying to keep everything together, but it had been a very exhausting night. I saw that John had reached Dean and Sammy on the front lawn and I let go. My windows burst in a shower of glass and I was completely lost to the pain.
I came back into the waking world to find the fire almost out. The Feeling had left but I was uninhabitable. I could see John holding his boys, reassuring them and I tried to reach out to do the same for him, but I was very weak and I don't think he heard me.
After that night I was an eyesore on this once perfect street. News was passed to me from the house the Winchesters were now staying in. They sounded in a bad way. Dean wasn't saying a word and John had gone to pieces. They were only kept together by and for Sammy.
I was sad to hear this, I wished they would come by and I could give them a feeling of familiarity and calm. Except I couldn't, not looking like this, not after what happened in me. I knew there was another who felt the same way. It's quite hard to miss when a spirit binds to you and that's what Mary had done. She was there with me, both of us listening for news of our family and both of us wanting to do more for them.
John did come back once, bringing a woman called Missouri. She walked my broken floors and touched my flame-licked walls and I'm sure she could feel the sadness. She declared that there had been something there and it was gone now and that she couldn't make heads nor tails of it. Mary was only a weak presence back then and was overwhelmed by the evil that had been left behind.
Then, they left. The Winchesters disappeared off the face of the Earth. There was no hint of where they'd gone. I searched everywhere but one large problem of being stationary is that it makes searching unbelievably hard. Over the years, after I was rebuilt, I still kept vigilant for any sign of Winchesters. I heard some, too. Usually they were a different family of Winchesters, but if there was ever news of a Winchester with no known background (and this didn't happen too often, believe me) I assumed it was about one of my Winchesters and I took what solace I could find in that.
I never chose Winchester-hunting over watching my new families, you must understand. The family that lived in me still came first and foremost over all other things, I am a house, after all.
The evil that was left after that night attracted spirits and beings of all kind. I did my best to make them unwelcome, or usher my family to do what was necessary to get rid of them. Sometimes Mary helped in a small way. She was a nice person like that and even though she was saving her energy, she'd go out of her way if it looked like a poltergeist wanted to set up shop.
Still, one spirit was terribly persistent and all our efforts did nothing to dissuade it from staying. It hurt to once again be the one to house the thing that could harm my family.
Soon after that spirit came to stay I heard the growl of a familiar engine and I almost collapsed from the surprise of it. I watched carefully as two men stepped out of the car. Had it really been that long? Were little Dean and Sammy really as old as that? It couldn't be anyone else, I take great pride in knowing my past families and I wasn't going to forget that particular family in a hurry! I shivered when Dean and Sammy stepped onto my porch, it was such a joy to feel them again.
Jenny, my new owner, opened the door to them and we both welcomed them in. It was good to know they had survived the long years without me and I only hoped the same could be said for John. Sammy barely recognised me but Dean knew where everything was, not much had changed since he was last here. Well, when he was last here I was on fire but not much other than that had changed.
I was sad to see them go again but they held promises of returning. I was pleased to hear that but Mary seemed worried; that other spirit was getting out of control. This became only too clear when little Richie (Jenny's young son) was locked in the fridge, no matter how I tried to stop it. It was awful, it was like watching that night all over again, being helpless to stop anything. Luckily no one was hurt, but it showed that this spirit had to be put to a stop soon, otherwise I was going to have more dead family on my floor and that is one of my greatest fears.
Sammy and Dean returned with that Missouri woman and I was quite glad to see her. She was well prepared to take on the evil spirit but again, Mary was saving her energy and couldn't be recognised. Unfortunately taking on the evil spirit meant some pain for me, but I was perfectly willing to take it if it meant being a safe home once more.
Missouri checked me for spirits again once they had finished and proclaimed that there were none left. I tried so hard to get across that she was wrong (like I said earlier: it's hard to miss when a spirit binds itself to you) and maybe Sammy heard me, or maybe he could feel them himself, but he didn't believe Missouri. He was waiting outside with Dean when all hell broke loose.
They saved my Jenny and her children but to my horror, Sam was dragged back inside. I was not a safe place to be. I became overwhelmed with it all when Dean began chopping down my front door. The front door I'd flung open in front of him so many years ago and that I was trying so desperately to fling open again. I came back to myself to find that Mary had manifested. The pain and sorrow I felt in that room was more than just my own. I wished I could make it all better for them. I wished I could be the safe place to get away from everything when it's all too much again. But I'd never be that for them. I held too many memories. Then Mary was gone, truly gone and I realised how comforting it had been to have a tie to the Winchester family constantly with me. Now, I was alone. 'Normal' the house across the street said it was, normal houses don't have spirits and evil in them. I'll never be normal again. There'll always be the question asked of the salesman about my history and there'll always be the answer of a fire caused by a faulty light fitting. As if I'd ever have a faulty light fitting, I take far too much pride in myself.
And that was that. That was the last I heard and saw of the Winchesters. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad that Mary's at peace now, and even gladder that she took the other spirit with her so I can have a hope of protecting my family. I'm also glad that Dean and Sammy are alive and out there somewhere. I'll always keep a lookout for them and listen for any news and they'll always be welcome back, no matter what my current family says. Most of all, I shall always carry with me the memory of John, Mary, Dean and little Sammy before the world turned upside down.
The End.
Yeah, hope you liked it.