Fight or Flight (John, Gen)

[sams1ra]

Title: Fight or Flight
Author:sams1ra
Characters: John
Rating: PG (Gen)
Disclaimer: All is disclaimed. No money is being made.
Beta: tru_faith_lost. Thanks hon! (all remaining mistakes are mine)
Spoilers: For DT and IMToD.
Summery: John's POV as he sat by Dean's side in IMToD.  

 

He had always known this was going to happen. Deep down, he had always known. He was going to end up burying a child.

His child.

This child.

He'd have liked to say this was a first time for him; the first time sitting here like this, in a hospital, next to his son's bed, and wondering if his baby would make it through the night.

But it wasn't.

What would become a lifelong affair with uncomfortable chairs and sleepless nights had started when the kid was merely six weeks old. The boy sure could spike a fever.

John couldn't count the number of times he wasn't completely sure if his son would make it to see another dawn.

It was worse, though, because he knew, deep down, that there had been times he had been kept in the dark about it. That there had been times when the kid hid his injuries, trying to be a man, trying to please his father.

And John had let him. Had let him ignore the pain, the danger. Because he'd been too busy doing something else.

There was only so much 'almost' to go around, could only be so many 'close calls' before he was sure to hear 'I'm sorry' and 'we did everything we could'.

Like now.

It was all up to his kid now. Fight or flight.

Only, not really.

It was funny when he thought about it. Fight or flight. Two options. Fit for two sons. One fights against all odds. The other takes flight. Leaves.

Dean would fight. He knew no other way.

But this time, it might not be enough.

There had been so many close calls. So many almosts.

Dean had been fighting with everything he had ever since Mary died. He was tired of fighting; John didn't have to be told that. Hell, he would probably have given up a while ago himself.

There was that one time, back after Sam left, that hunt which nearly killed them both.

The hunt where Dean simply lowered his weapon in the face of the monster. Just looked it in the eye and waited for the end, no fight left in him.

It had busted him up pretty good by the time John got there. Dean never apologized. John never asked.

Maybe he should have.

Maybe he should have listened to everyone who told him exactly what he didn’t want to hear. Stop while you still can, they’d said. Think of your boys; they've already lost a mother, don't leave them all alone in the world.

But he hadn't listened.  He didn’t want to leave his boys, but he knew there was no one in the world more prepared than they were for whatever it was that was out there. He'd made sure of that.

But still, John should have listened.

Should have listened when they told him this line of work was too dangerous for kids, or even a man with kids. It was true. And it kept getting more and more dangerous. But John thought his boys had been trained well enough to take care of themselves.

They weren’t.

Dean wasn’t.

Not this time.

The boys weren’t as ready as John had thought. They’d had a chance to take the demon out, a chance to leave it all behind, to live. All they had to do was kill him, and the demon inside him. After what it did to his boy, John figured it was toast as soon as Sam had hold of the Colt. But Sam asked for Dean's permission, and Dean wasn’t ready.

Wasn’t prepared. Wasn’t strong enough.

John looked at his child, lying helpless before him, tubes going in and out of his body, machines monitoring his every breath. Was he strong enough now? Strong enough to come back, even after what that thing had done to him while still wearing John's skin?

And John knew. Deep down, he'd known for a long time.

His boy was too much like him.

John had left because his family was his biggest weakness. Dean had stayed for that same reason.

His child could fight off Armageddon, as long as he had his family with him. But to have to face them in battle...

And he would. Eventually, he would have to. They would all have to. If they couldn't save Sammy... And wouldn't that just kill Dean all over again?

Would it be better this way? Better to let him go now?

But how could he? How could he sit here and watch his baby boy lose this battle and do nothing?

He couldn’t.

They said he was going to live long enough to bury his child.

Well, screw 'em. Ain't gonna happen, baby.

He had to take care of it. Had to take care of Sammy. Had to bring Dean back.

He’d do both.

He still had a card up his sleeve. Actually, a gun, but still.

He'd spent nearly a lifetime looking for that gun. But he'd give it up in a heartbeat.

To save his son.

To save them both.

He'd give up vengeance.

Okay, not give up, but put on a back burner for a while. Make sure Dean was safe. Make sure he knew what's important. Make sure... Make sure his son knew...

John scrubbed his face, looking at the shell of his son lying in that hospital bed. Dean was still hanging on. Still fighting. But John didn’t know how long that'd last.

He wasn't going to test it. Not this time.

He'd give up the Colt. For his son, he'd give up the Colt.

He'd save this boy, and then, with his help, he'd save the other one.

Dean would save his brother. John was counting on it.

If anyone could, it was Dean.

He had to make sure it happened.

He had to make sure Dean survived.

He'd give anything.

To anyone. 

The End