Passing into Summerland

Passing into Summerland

Title: Passing into Summerland

Author: Foxhunt2blue

Summary: He knew his sons would succeed where he would fail. He hoped though that he would eventually find his way to her somehow despite his foolish heart.

Rated: R

Spoilers: Pilot/CSPWDT/All Hell Breaks Loose 1-2 & Supernatural Origins #1

Pairing: John/Mary

Disclaimer: The CW owns Supernatural along with that evil little bastard Kripke I don't. *Razzberry* Of course I just might be one of Kripke's evil Satan spawn, you never know. *evil laugh*

Feedback: As long as it's useful in a good way. Flames shall be condemned to hell where they all belong. *g*

***

When he'd discovered the truth, he'd been angry as all hell. He'd always thought that he and Mary had shared everything. Despite that, she'd held this secret close.

If it hadn't been for her secret, perhaps none of this would have happened. Perhaps they would have still been together---a family. There were nights he sat unsleeping in a hard chair watching over his oldest, his gaze focused on the thin strip of leather that held the amulet that Mary had placed around his neck when he was five months old. She'd insisted that he always have it on him and after some argument, they'd agreed to pin it to his onesie until he was old enough to wear it around his neck. He'd thought it odd, but let it go. If it made his Mary smile that brilliantly, he'd been more than willing to tuck the questions away into a dark corner.

It had been when he and Dean had been in Tennessee that he'd discovered the truth.

Mary had an uncle in a small town about fifty miles outside of Nashville. He'd only seen the man twice---their wedding and after her death. He was a tall slender man with silver hair and a face darkened by hours in the sun, but he looked nowhere near the eighty years that he was when John had went to see him for the last time.

He was greeted by Jackson Tierney standing in the yard, a pipe clenched between his teeth, and the silver strands of his hair dancing in the wind as he'd pulled up to the small farmhouse . Bringing the truck to a stop, John jumped from the truck, and moved across the dirt drive to stand in front of Jackson. The elder man nodded his head in acknowledgement.

"Howdy, Johnny boy." He slipped the pipe from between his lips, bright blue eyes squinting against the dying daylight. "You ready ta hear the truth?"

Taking a deep breath, John nodded.

***

Apparently, his Mary came from a long line of witches, generations that were traceable back to the days of the Roman Empire and possibly further. Witches weren't what most people thought. There were no pointed hats, green complexions, or warts. There were no pacts with the devil nor black magic. They were children of nature who were far closer to the creator than any Christian could hope to be. They understood that evil was a natural part of existence and their job was to fight that evil.

Jackson had explained that there were thirteen original family lines and in each of those families, there were special children born every 13th generation, Mary had been one of those children. Those unique children held power far stronger than the others did and in rare moments, those like Mary would give birth to children even more powerful. That had been the curse that Mary and the others like her had bore for centuries. A curse after evil had touched the families and that evil had sworn vengeance.

As their power locked away the demon, he'd spoken a handful of words that frightened the families. With his final corporeal breath, he'd looked into their faces with fire-filled eyes and smiled. He'd promised he would escape that he would open the gates of hell. Yet that had not been the worst. He swore that one of their own would help him do so. They would know the truth when they saw one of their special ones born with the mark. That mark would let them know that their child would be his to manipulate.

John had left behind the farm knowing Mary had made a mistake. She'd believed it to be Dean, but before she realized the truth, the demon had marked their youngest child---Sam. Now he knew what had murdered his wife and what was seeking out their youngest.

***

Hell had been far from what John had imagined. A place where no matter how much damage might be inflicted you would always heal. The thing though was that the pain stayed with you. For him the pain was worth it. He'd done the unthinkable in the end, he'd made a deal with the demon to save the one person he knew was stronger than he was. Then despite his better judgment, he'd told Dean the truth.

For him hell was watching his boys tortured, torn apart by claws and teeth, murdered repeatedly. Somehow, though he'd managed to keep his wits about him. He'd known that it was all an illusion, that his boys were safe from this place; he'd made sure of that by sacrificing himself.