Though the waterfall wasn't that far away from the hut John shared with the boys (and now Jess, too), he took his time returning.
Sharon's confession was weighing heavily on his mind, unsurprisingly. It was the last thing in the world he'd ever expected to hear from her. But he had and now everything had been turned upside-down and rightside-up
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The wary note in his brother's voice roused him from sleep like no banging drawer ever could, and Dean blinked at his father through the open door. There was an odd set to his shoulders, one Dean was more accustomed to cataloging as pain than reluctance, as John Winchester was a do or do not kind of man. "You hurt?" he asked, sitting up.
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Evidence of Sam's cleaning was a welcome distraction. His eyes roamed slowly over the neatened areas and the small piles waiting to be sorted. Compartmentalized.
It was times like this that John wished like hell he could just do the same. Things would be a lot easier.
But it wasn't as though life had been easy or kind to John Winchester.
"I need to talk to you," he said, standing inside their doorway.
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