Hello! This is actually the last chapter of this story-I really hope you've all enjoyed the ride, I know I have enjoyed writing it ^^
Later that evening, John settled the boys into his bed again, wrapped them up nice and warm with blankets and pillows and put a film on for them. He sat with them as they watched, but not taking in the movie at all-he mind was too busy spinning with all the 'What ifs' and 'Maybes' and all the other possible situations that could have happened if he hadn't dealt with Mr Chuckles in time.
He had left Sammy with that damn thing so many times-what if something had happened and he didn't know about it? By what the thing had said before he cremated it, it seemed it had been asking Sam to do something-what the hell had it been saying to his boy?
He pressed a tired and shaking hand to his face, crushing the heel of it into one of his eye sockets so a burst of light appeared in the darkness. He couldn't deal with this, this had happened to his family....
He stood up and pretended to stretch, if only for the benefit of Dean, who had first seemed alarmed when he had moved, but now settled back, letting Sam's head fall onto his shoulder.
He bent low and gently ruffled their hair with his hands. 'I'm just gonna go in the next room, ok?' he asked. His heart broke when Sam stiffened a little before Dean put a comforting hand on his lower arm.
'Yeah...I'll look after Sammy.' Dean whispered, looking down at his brother.
'Good man.' John said, thumbing Dean's cheek before standing up fully and clearing his throat.
He crossed to the door and opened it, letting some air and light into the gloomy room.
'You want me to leave the door open?' he asked, ready to prop it open so they could see him from where they were on his bed.
Dean shrugged, and Sam said nothing. John tried not to sigh. 'I'll leave it open a little, okay?' he stated, before quietly moving into the next room. He peered guiltily back round the door-they had gone back to watching the movie, with Sam even closer to Dean than before.
John quietly reached up to the top of the cupboard and pulled out the bottle of Scotch he had hidden there the first day they had got here. Now was the right time to use it, he reasoned, as he undid the top and poured some into a glass.
He sat down heavily on the sofa, once again rubbing a hand down his face. He felt sweat and stubble, a combination he had never liked. This hunt-well, it wasn't even a proper hunt...this wasn't supposed to have happened, had taken everything from him. It had even hurt his family, something nothing had been able to do since the night Mary had passed.
He choked back a small cry as the image of his wife flashed before his eyes. What would have happened if she wasn't here?
He took a hefty gulp of Scotch to quell his emotion which was rising in his throat.
He winced as the warmth of the alcohol reached the back of his throat, before taking another smaller gulp-drinking wouldn't solve anything, and his boys needed him sober, but he felt a little better now.
The small voice startled him slightly, and he quickly put the glass down beside the sofa out of sight as Sam padded towards him, wiping his bleary eyes.
'Hey Buddy-what're you doing?' he said, smiling and opening his arms so the little boy could climb onto his lap.
'I, I wanted to talk to you.' Sam stammered, a small whimper escaping his lips.
John's heart sank, but he closed his arms around his youngest, before smoothing down is unruly hair with one large, gentle hand.
'Alright, go ahead.' He said.
Sam looked at him right in the eyes before turning away. 'I didn't like Mr Chuckles, he was bad.' He said in a small voice.
'I know Sammy, and I'm sorry this happened. Listen, did Mr Chuckles ever tell you to do things, things you didn't want to do?' John said gently. He didn't want to push him too hard; he could see Sam was still scared.
After a while Sam nodded slowly, his big brown eyes filling with tears. John pulled him even closer, rubbing his back comfortingly as the tears began to fall.
'He said I had to...I had to play with him forever! I said I didn't want to...when Dean was mean to him he said he wanted me to hurt Dean-I didn't want to, but he said he'd hurt me if I didn't!' he cried, before burying his face in John's chest, sobbing.
'Hey, hey...its ok-nothing can hurt you or Dean anymore, you hear? I won't let anything happen to you guys ever again.' He spoke into Sam's hair, before kissing the top of his head and rocking the child back and forth on his lap as he cried, tears falling from his own eyes.
After a few minutes Sam hiccoughed and drew back, rubbing his red eyes. He gave his father a small smile, before sitting up straighter.
John smiled back, and rubbed the back of Sam's hand comfortingly with his thumb. 'Sammy, I'm really sorry this happened-but it won't ever happen again.' He said.
'Promise?' Sam said, swallowing thickly as he looked imploringly at his father.
John met his gaze, but inside his heart was pounding-they just wanted stability, a life without danger, or fear...something he couldn't give them. He had to though-he was their father. He would always be there for them, not matter what.
'I promise.' He replied, hugging Sam again. He then stood up, hooking Sam's small hand into his own. 'How about we go back and watch the movie, eh?' he asked, smiling down at Sam, who gave him a small nod. 'Ok buddy, let's go.' He said, leading him into the room, where Dean sat up, eyes wide.
'Sammy, you ok?'
'Good.' Dean settled back into position, moving up a little so his dad could move in beside him.
'Hey guys...' he whispered as they all got into place.
'Yeah?' Dean asked, both boys looking at their father.
'I've had an idea-why don't we get outta here, for real?' John asked, watching as Sam nodded, tears filling his eyes again. 'Yes please Daddy.' He said, and John smiled back at the grateful look Dean was giving him.
'Alright-you two get in the car, I'll dump the bags in the trunk, okay?' he said, moving out the bed and leading the two of them out of the bedroom.
He quickly got Sam into his coat and shoes, and pretty soon they were all ready to go.
John walked behind them as Dean led Sam out of the motel in the direction of the Impala-before they got there, however, they had to pass the hole were Mr Chuckles now resided in. Sam gave a small, almost inaudible gasp.
'Go on Sammy, keep walking-he can't hurt you no more.' John promised, putting his arms around his boys as they walked on, Dean craning his neck to get one more glimpse of the mound.
'We'll sleep in the next town, okay? We can go somewhere real nice...' John said, opening the doors for the back and stepping back to let Sam and Dean get in.
As they got in he crossed to the trunk, popping it open for the second time that night, before throwing in two duffels of clothes and one of weapons.
He looked behind him at the mound, and allowed himself a terse smirk. He had won the battle...but not the war. More things would come to test them, he knew, and they all had to be ready.
But not tonight-tonight he had two traumatised, tired and cold children in the back of the Impala, and he intended to do everything in his power to keep them safe.
After all, what else were fathers for?
Thank you to everyone for reviewing, alerting, and putting this story on your favourites list, it means a lot to me!
Please review one last time, I would love to know what you thought of this chapter, and the whole story!
A/N- Don't worry, I'm not out of fic ideas yet! Watch this space for another fic coming soon!