I have another story for you! This doesn't mean I'm neglecting my other fics, oh no-I just couldn't get this idea out of my head!

This is kind of my version of 'Why Sam hates clowns so much' so I hope you like my theory!

I hope you enjoy this opening chapter!


John Winchester hated his life.

It wasn't just one thing that made him hate his very existence; it was a succession of lots of little things that had built up during his lifetime that had made him hate his life-such as the fact that he woke up every single morning and went to bed every single night with intense feelings of revenge and want for justice spinning in his head, saturating his very being as he lay there.

It could also be the fact that he knew perfectly well that he was doing the worst job of being a father that had ever been seen; his boys didn't have a proper, full life, and it was all down to him.

He loved his children to bits, would crawl to the ends of the world to ensure their safety, happiness and protection-but why did it have to be so god damn hard?

He looked across at his eldest; Dean was lounging on the motel sofa, reading a comic. He smiled at the sight-he knew Dean was ok with everything. Okay, he was ten, but he knew what was happening. Kind of.

He looked down at his six year old; Sam was curled on his lap, his head lolling on his shoulder as he snored lightly. He gently ruffled his hair and looked at the clock; the boys had to be up for school in the morning.

He knew they needed an education when they where young, but he had no idea if they could carry it on once they got older-he needed them to help him hunting, to find the thing that had killed their mother. But he owed them some sort of education, after all, they where entitled to one.

'Come on tiger...bed time for you...' he whispered to the sleeping Sam, kissing the top of his head as he gently roused him; Sam was getting too big to be carried around now.

Sam looked up groggily, wiping his eyes with his closed fist as he smiled dopily up at his father.

'Hey daddy...' he said, before he closed his eyes again, before they snapped open to look for Dean.

'Come on you two, bed time' John smiled, walking over to Dean and gently moving his shoulder. Dean sighed and nodded, before walking over to Sam and taking his hand, gently leading his brother into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

'I'll be in to tuck you in in a minute.' John called, before clearing the fast food wrappers from the table and binning them to get rid of the smell. He walked over to the window and drew the curtains, shutting his family off from the outside world.

After a couple of minutes he saw the boys walk into their bedroom. He crossed the room to Dean and tucked his eldest in. He knew Dean really liked being cuddled and babied a little, no matter how much he protested. He kissed the top of his eldest's head tenderly before turning to Sam, who giggled as John made a face.

'Nighty-night time Sammy-o!' John chuckled, tucking Sam in tightly to make sure he stayed warm during the night.

'Night daddy.' Sam whispered, holding out his arms for a cuddle. John ducked down and obliged, breathing in the scent of his son and smiling. This was something that made him feel happy to be alive, no matter how crap his life was. His sons meant everything to him; he would be lost without them.

After Sam let him go he walked over to the door and flicked off the light.

'Night boys...' he whispered, before shutting the door with a snap.

'Got your lunch money?'

'Yes Dad.'

'Got Sam's lunch money?'

'Yes Dad.'

'...Got your pocket knife?'

'As always Dad!' Dean chuckled, rolling his eyes at his father.

'Good boy-look after your brother now.' John gave his son a hug as he opened the door of the Impala; the two boys getting out and walking back round to see John.

Sam looked so smart with his backpack that John thought he might burst with pride.

'Right-off you go now, I'll pick you up later.' He nodded, giving Sam a one armed squeeze as he lifted his arms up.

'Bye Daddy, have a nice day!' Sam smiled before running to keep up with Dean as he led him to the playground.

'You too!' John called back, chuckling, before driving off to the store.

He spent around an hour there, going through all the aisles, making sure he had enough of everything so Sam wouldn't pout and Dean wouldn't grumble. He put in double helpings of their favourite Donuts-well; he could have a treat now and again, couldn't he?

After he had finished the food shop he made his way to the clothes area, picking up some more Jeans and T-shirts from them all; their other stuff was dirty and ripped.

He was about to walk to the checkouts when his phone went off, the deep tones of 'Smoke on the Water' bursting into the store.

He didn't recognise the number as he answered. 'Hello?'

'Hello, is this John Winchester?'

'Depends who you are'

'My name is Miss Greene; I'm your son Sam's teacher- I was wondering if you could come into the school for a meeting?'

'What, now?' John asked, worry spearing his mind.

'If that's no trouble-nothing bad had happened, we just need...a little talk about Sammy.'

'It's Sam, and ok, sure-I'll be there ASAP' he agreed, shutting the phone before the woman could answer.

He looked to the checkout, and grimaced at the cue. He looked down at his trolley and shrugged, abandoning it in the middle of the aisle.

'What have you done Sammy?' he muttered to himself as he walked back to the Impala.

He could tell by the tenseness in the principles office that this wasn't a meeting about being late or poor homework.

He spied Sam sitting on a large leather chair; his young son was dwarfed by the blackness of it.

'Sammy?' John whispered, wanting to know Sam was ok. He felt better when his son nodded and attempted a smile, before a very scared look crossed his features.

He turned to the principle, a batty-looking woman who had horn-rimmed glasses and a tweed jacket on. John prided himself at not chuckling at her.

'What's this about?' he said instead, frowning at the other woman in the room-it had to be Miss Greene.

'Mr Winchester, please sit down.' The Principle said. It wasn't an offer.

John slid into the chair next to Sam, suddenly feeling quite small despite himself. Why did all the scary looking women always make Principle?

'Mr Winchester-'

'Call me John.'

'Mr Winchester-is everything ok at home?'

'Why shouldn't it be?'

'You tell me.'

'You're the teacher here.'

The principle sucked in breath before replying. 'I want to know why your son is so handy with his fists, Mr Winchester-I've had to send one of the other children home with a split lip and a nasty bruise on his head, thanks to your son.' She said, nodding her head sharply in Sam's direction.

John looked across to his son with a questioning look on his face.

'Sam?' he said, nodding for his son to know it was ok to speak.

Sam's eyes were wide when he replied. 'They were mean to me! They called me names!' he pouted, eyes brimming with tears.

John desperately wanted to envelope his son in a hug, but he also knew he needed to be punished for what he had done. 'Sammy, what have I said about hitting other boys?' he asked, looking sternly at his son.

'They said I didn't have a home! They said I wasn't normal because I didn't have a mommy...' the tears fell now. John knew Sam didn't fully understand why he didn't have a mother; he had told him that she had died, but not how.

'Oh Sam...' John said, and without looking at the principle he stood up, crossed to Sam and scooped his son up in a hug, letting him cry on his shoulder.

With Sam still latched onto is chest he turned to the principle. 'I'll talk to him, he's only a kid-it won't happen again, I promise.' He said, relieved when the old bat nodded and flicked her head at the door.

'He can leave now-but I hope he comes back to school in the morning a changed boy, okay?' she said sternly at John.

'Yes, ok' John nodded, before he put Sam down and held his hand as they walked out.

'Come on Sammy-which one do you want?' John asked, feeling his legs go numb through lack of use-he had taken Sam to the toy store for a pick-me up toy, to make him feel better after what had happened at school. He wasn't rewarding his behaviour, but he hoped Sam would realise what he had done wrong, and he wanted to get the toy because he saw how upset he was.

He looked down the toy aisle and saw Dean mooching by the comics, tucking one after the other under his arm as he looked. Damn this trip was going to be expensive.

'Chosen yet?' he looked back down at his youngest, smiling at Sam's frown as he looked over all the toys.

'I'll have...that one!' he finally said, smiling and pointing to a toy on the shelf.

John looked in his direction and crinkled up his nose-Sam had chosen a large clown doll.

He took it off the shelf and inspected the box- "I'm Mr Chuckles-Push the button on my hand and hear me laugh!"

He held it up for Sam. 'You're sure this is what you want?' He said, trying not to show his distaste for his son's choice.

'Yeah! Yeah! Please Daddy!' Sam cried, cheering as John handed the toy to him.

'Ok...' John said, before turning to Dean. He put his hands on his hips and shook his head at his son-Dean was holding around fifteen comic books, and those things didn't come cheap.

'You can pick five now, and before we leave you can get another stack.' John chuckled, watching Dean go back to the comic stand to choose the ones to keep.

When both boys were ready John paid for their stuff, and as they were walking back to the Impala, Sam clutching Mr Chuckles happily in his arms, Dean already reading one of his comics, none of the Winchesters could ever have predicted the effect that this day would have on them in the near future.

What's going to happen next?

Find out in the next chapter!

Thank you so much for reading, please review!