EWAY: John's Final Letters

[failedparenting]

[Since almost the first month in Wonderland, John has kept a stack of letters tucked into the back of his new journal. Over the years, the envolopes and names on them have changed, worn around the corners, stained, but they're always there. Some have been scribbled on for so long the paper is old and wrinkled, some are still so new they're bright white. But all of them are important, and all of them contain things John can admit that he isn't man enough to say face-to-face. But still, in the event that he disappears for good, he needs them to go out.

Sam's envelope is one of the oldest. It has no edits, no post scripts, and is so worn around the edges that there are holes at the corners of the envelope. It's clear he wrote this a very long time ago.]


Sam,

I’ve got a feeling that this is going to reach the same you that was here waiting for me when I first showed up in this place. It's the status quo, right? Everyone else comes and goes, but you’re always there. So goddamn stable. You’ve always been that way, did you know that? When you were a baby, you were so quiet, just the best damn baby. We could leave you for half an hour to do stuff around the house, and you'd always be fine and happy when we came back. We could depend on it. I mean, your pants would be full of crap but you were happy about it.

You're a good man, Sammy. You're better than me, or your brother, or your grandfathers could ever hope to be. Demon blood be damned, I knew deep down you would never bend to it. You care too fucking much to bend to that kind of evil. I want you to know, you never have to worry about yourself. Don't ever do that, okay? What makes you good, at least I couldn't fuck that up.

I'm sorry I never told you two about your little brother, I really am. I had every chance to, but all I could think about was, what if something happened? I didn't have a hand in raising him, you know? I thought he could have a chance. Sure, I turned into my dad trying to stay away, but I thought it was better than making him like us. I know now what I did was wrong and about five kinds of fucked up. I was wrong, and now I'm coming to learn I was wrong about most things. Getting older and wiser is a bitch, you know?

Watch out for your brothers. I love you.

Dad


[Dean's letter isn't quite worn as Sam's, but it certainly isn't new. And also like Sam's, this has no edits on it. It's clear he knew exactly what he wanted to say, no matter what.]

Dean,

I don't know who’s gonna get this letter, there's been so much of you in this mansion that I can't remember which way is up. But I do know that after I'm gone, you fall into so much shit I couldn't have even predicted if I could see the fucking future. I didn't want this for you, kiddo, none of it. I wanted you to have a life. I wanted to see you have kids and your own garage and a woman as good as your mother. You don't deserve the bullshit you got. I'm so, so, sorry. That's my fault.

But you know what? I’m proud of you, I’m so goddamn proud. You become a better hunter than any I've ever seen. But that's enough for now. When you do anything from now on, don't think of me. Don't think of what I'd do. I want you to do what's good for you. Be selfish, okay? Don't do the right thing, do the easy thing. Find a girl for yourself around here, be careless. Around here, there's no way to knock anyone up, right?

Live your life again, Dean. I love you.

Dad

P.S. On second though, with all that? Just try to stay away from monsters, okay? And any witches. Fuck witches. And because I know you because you’re just like me, there's this blonde named Cami? Stay away. Far away. It's not worth it.


[The envelope and letter addressed to the elder Pines twins is one of the newer envelopes in the bunch. There's a polaroid stuffed into it too, of a large group of men sitting around a poker table. It's from one of their poker nights, and it's a rare moment where everyone didn't look absolutely shifty.]

Stan & Ford,

I wrote two different goddamn letters for you a few months ago, but then I realized that you're both gonna snoop anyway, and most of this crap goes for the both of you. So why not save paper? Besides, I lost the last two to some cigarette ash.

Stan, you're an asshole. Your poker face is shit and I'm about 80% sure you're a draft dodger. I like to think you'd be one of my best ex friends back home, if you were from there. I’d kill to see you on a real hunt, but I'm not totally sure you'd make it. I have this friend, Bobby, who I think you'd like. If he ever shows up here, reach out to that asshole. And punch him for me.

Ford, you're a nerd and your poker face is better than your brother’s, but you need to find time to remove that branch from your ass. And I mean that with love and support. As I'm writing this, I haven't gotten a look at any of your notes (assuming you have them—but I don't think I'm wrong assuming that), but fuck, I want to. I bet you've seen some shit.

Make sure those kids don't turn out as dumb as you two.

John


[Tucked in with his uncles' letter, Dipper has a note, too.]

Dipper,

Hey kid. I know you think I'm a bad guy, and maybe you're right. But here: go to my son Sam, ask him for my journals. Show him this for proof if you need to, but I think he'll take your word for it. Read through it, and through the notes, if you can.

I think you might find them interesting.

John


Simon,

Jo's dad was a really friendly guy. I don't think he was ever planning on being the type to run off his daughter's girlfriends with a shotgun, I think he wanted to leave it to me. But I know that he'd have loved the hell out of you. You're a lucky man to have convinced a Harvelle woman into loving you. They're something special.

Thanks.

John


[The next isn't actually a letter, just a folded up piece of notebook paper.]

Philip,

Fuck you. You don't know me.

John


Dan,

Hey.

It's fucked up, you know? I don't know you, but this place has worked a number on the both of us. It would feel wrong to not say something if I up and leave, even though it was all a dream. So. You seem like an okay guy.

John

You’re an okay guy. Your dog is fucked up. Please, for God sake, get it a hat? If I ever show back up I can guarantee you I'd shoot it on sight if I wasn't warned.

As I'm writing this (it's January now. Or what passes for January here) I don't know if you and the librarian have a thing yet, or if you're sneaking around. But I do know that it's important to take advantage of every second you have with her. You never know when you’ll lose that connection, and I can tell you, regrets hurt worse than anything else in this world.

Keep an eye out for my boys, would you?

John


[This is one of the older letters in the bunch, but it has a great deal of fresh writing on the back. There's also a small, folded piece of paper containing a handwritten map, leading to the fields outside of the mansion.]

Michonne,

I don't know you, and I don't know if I ever will, but I do know that you were there for my youngest boy when I wasn't. I never was, if we're being honest (and if I don't have to be there for it in person). Thank you. Adam deserved a friend.

John

I don't think I've told you yet (or maybe I have by the time you read this, who knows?) but you remind me of my friend Ellen, Jo’s mom. Both you and her might be the scariest women I've ever met, and I mean that as a compliment. You've also got some big goddamn hearts and a sense of humor drier than the Sahara. What I'm saying is, you're from some hell hole I'm glad I'll never see, but you remind me of home.

John

P.S. I don't know who the fucker with my face is that hurt you and your friends, but do something for me. I have my own shooting range out on in the fields, some big hay bales? Out there, there's a box, and in it I have my favorite pistol. You take it, and if that asshole ever comes around empty it into him. My treat.


[In Joel's envelope, there's a polaroid of just a middle finger aimed at the camera.]

Joel,

You like the Polaroid? I took it a few hours after I woke up after you filled me full of hot lead. But I think you deserve a little more than that, now.

Look, I like you, man. A lot. Honestly, it's like looking into a fucking mirror and it's a little terrifying. And that's why I want to get this out here, because like hell I’m ever telling you to your face: I would've done the same thing. Fuck, I’ve done the same thing before. The boys don't even know how many people I've killed to keep them safe. Some of them were even my friends, once. So yeah, I get it.

Stay safe.

John


Rick,

Fuck you.

John


[This letter has been written and rewritten on many times. On the edges there's a few brown splats of something that looks like...well. Exactly what you would expect.]

Miss Evelyn,

I'm gonna waste some paper here, but here goes: unlodge that icicle in your ass, it's not a cute look for you.

John

Look, I was wrong about you before, I was. You’ve got more fire in you than a goddamn furnace, and a right hook to match it. For what it’s worth, I'm sorry. I can't remember everything I've done to offend you so far but I'm sure it's my fault. The library deserves a woman like you

Ignore the blood on the page, it's just mine.

John

I don't think I ever realized just how much we have in common until today, Evie. And you can handle me calling you Evie, because I'm not there for you to punch again (hopefully). But I'm sorry I misjudged you in the beginning. As long as I've been hunting, you'd think I'd stop trying to underestimate tiny women with big tempers, and here I am. They're telling me you shamed the shit out of that fucker that shot me. I'm amazed and a little scared.

Please, keep an eye out for my boys. I know Sam likes you a lot. Winchester men have an eye for pretty women who can kick some ass, so watch out for that on all sides. Sorry, they get it from me.

Also, I've been smoking in the library.

John


Cami,

I left you a gun, in a lockbox in the library. Hope you get some use out of it.

John


[By far the thickest letter in the bunch is addressed to Jo. Once upon a time it was addressed to "Joanna Beth", but it was scratched out in red pen and re-addressed as "Jo". The letter looks suspiciously water stained in some places.]

Jo,

I think you know what's going to be in this letter. You deserve the truth, and I'm too chickenshit to say it to your face. But if you want to know, here it is.

You have to keep in mind, this was early enough in my years of hunting for me to still be a skeptic, but late enough that i should’ve known better. It sounds stupid now, but I didn’t believe in Hell then, not really. I had a hard time believing in a world with Hell, because that meant heaven and MarySorry, no. That doesn’t matter. It’s all just excuses, anyway.

Bill and I were out in California for a hunt, at the Devil’s Gate Reservoir. Your dad was convinced something was out at this thing, some hellspawn or demon or something, and back then you didn’t see that kind of shit ever. So I went along because he needed me, and he couldn’t do it alone, and I needed to expand my knowledge base. We thought it was going to come out at the mouth of the spillway, and there was plenty of evidence waiting there for us to confirm it. Bill put up a devil’s trap (first time I’d ever seen one) and I laid out the salt across the mouth of the spillway. And then I did the dumbest fucking thing I’ve ever done in my life. I got distracted. My head was somewhere else, I can’t even remember where now, and I was just looking up at the stars and I scuffed the goddamn salt without realizing it.

That’s how it got out, Jo. I’ve never seen anything like it since, and I still don’t know what it was exactly. Not a regular demon, I’ve seen two or three since and it was nothing like that. Besides, no crossroads dealing son of a bitch could blaze right through a devil’s trap like it did. Sounded like nothing I’d ever heard before either. It was like all the worst feelings and pain you’ve ever felt, multiplied times a thousand. It sounded like war feels, Jo. I know what's out there, and there’s only one other thing I’ve seen that’s that evil. And all of that just flew into him. I’ll save you the details about what happened to him when it did, but it wasn’t good. He was talking at me with these two voices, one of them was his and the other was the thing’s, and both of them were just begging me to shoot him. I panicked. I didn’t even stop to think that maybe it was the thing trying to get me to kill my best friend, or if it was really Bill. I didn’t think about any prayers to say because fuck, I didn’t even know any at the time besides the Lord’s Prayer. So I did what he asked. I shot him.

Jo. I killed my best friend because I was careless. I murdered him, and there isn’t a week that goes by that I don’t think about it. I won’t lie, it’s gotten a little easier to handle over the years. I was too green to be on that hunt with him, I know that now. He shouldn’t have trusted me with something like that. But that’s not his fault. It was mine.

Your mom and dad pulled me out of a pretty dark place a long time ago, and I can never repay something like that. I can say that I love your family like my own, and I hope that this doesn’t cast the boys in a bad light for you. They never knew, anyway. I hope one day you’ll be able to forgive me for what I did, not that I deserve it.

Love you, kiddo.

Uncle John


[The newest envleope is thin, bright white. It's clear the letter inside has taken a beating, though, folded and re-folded nervously so many times it's almost coming apart.]

Daisy,

Hey.

Normally I write these things after I’ve known someone a long time. Yeah, a lot of other people will be getting these letters if I ever wind up missing. Hopefully it’s been years and you’re reading this right now, laughing. But maybe not. I still can’t predict disappearances around here.

I’m not some creep, alright? I know it looks that way, hitting on someone about twenty years younger than me, but I’m not. I promise. But you helped pull me out of a bad spot that night, and I know that maybe it’s nothing, maybe it’s just one kiss, but it did a lot to make me feel human again. You’re an amazing woman.

John


[The last two envelopes have been hidden at the far back of the journal. The people they were meant for are long gone, but John still hasn't been able to get rid of them. He never would have. It's possible they'll remain unread forever.]

Hey Gorgeous,

You want to know something dumb?

The first time we met, I knew I was gonna marry you. That second you full body slammed into me coming out of the movie theater and knocked me on my ass, I thought “Holy shit, who is this girl?” Any tiny thing like you that could lay out a fucking Marine was worth grabbing onto for the rest of my life. I’m glad I had the time with you that I did. It was more than I ever deserved.

Love you.

John


Adam,

Hey kiddo.

You don’t have to read this, and I don’t ever expect you to. You don’t owe it to me in the slightest. But you need to know that I love you and I loved your mother, and even though I fucked up beyond any normal kind of fatherly fuck-ups, that never changed. Did you know that you’re a lot like your grandpa? He was smart too, like you. One of the smartest men I ever knew. You’re more like your mom, I think, but I can see him in you too.

I want you to read my journals, if you ever feel ready to. I know it’s not right or fair of me to suddenly press it onto you like this, especially if I’ve made another disappearing act. But I want you to know about what I did. Why I did it. I know now that it wasn’t the right choice or smart, but maybe it’ll help you understand what happened.

Don’t blame your brothers, please. They never knew, either. Just, give them a chance?

Dad