The Search For John Winchester [REWRITE]

Prologue

Percy was just as troubled an adult as he was as a kid. Maybe even more so. Because as a kid, he'd at least had the benefit of the doubt — kids were allowed to be impertinent and stupid and have no life skills (well, ones that normal people would have, anyway). But when you're in your twenties and have been running from your taxes faster than you run from monsters, well... that wasn't exactly good in the eyes of the people.

He didn't have a job anyway, so what did it matter that he didn't do his taxes? He had no money to be taxed.

The two men watching him weren't tax collectors. They were rather angry looking people, the older man especially. The younger one was Percy's type, at least in looks, but he was also creepily watching Percy from across the bar he'd holed up in, and the demigod didn't much like his company, so he disregarded any hopes of a good night and a free bed.

He recognized John Winchester, and didn't want anything to do with the man watching him.

The bar was crowded, as they always seemed to be on Friday nights in college towns. Percy's time at college had been short-lived, but he could almost imagine this was him, bar the alcohol (pun intended). He liked the feeling of being around people his age, people who laughed at jokes he understood and who raged against the machine just because they were young and didn't have to face the consequences. It took away from those painful moments where he would curl up on cold concrete and make conversation with the silent stars.

The door swung open, and Percy glanced back, suppressing a shudder. He wished they would just leave him alone. Or, better yet, that they would be strong enough to put him out of his misery. He didn't bother getting up, knowing that the fight would come soon enough. It always did.

"Can I get another Pepsi?" Percy slumped over the bar, pouting at the nice man who had taken pity on the demigod and given him some free food. He could probably smell the homelessness on Percy.

"I'll buy him a beer." A familiar voice broke through what little hope he had at getting at least one more drink. "He's a big boy now, after all, aren't you, Percy? Twenty-one already... we never thought you'd get this far."

"No thanks, Kelli," Percy sighed. "I don't drink."

"Never were any fun, were you?" Kelli huffed, crossing her legs and throwing back her hair. "Won't even go for a drink with an old friend."

"I think we both know we're not friends."

The bartender cast Percy a worried look, but a frat boy started shouting out slurs, and he had to go put a stop to that. The bar was filled with sound, and Percy wanted nothing more than for it to stop.

"It's not like you have many of those anymore. Do they even know you're alive, Perseus?"

"With the way I'm ghosting them, probably not," Percy said dryly, gazing forlornly down at his plate.

"For someone so loyal, you sure do cut ties easy."

"For someone so weak, you sure do talk a big game."

"I wouldn't count me out just yet. Since I can't chase that bitch girlfriend of yours, I'm going to chase you. And I'm not going to stop chasing you until you're six-feet under with her."

"Shut the fuck up, Kelli." Percy hunched over himself further, stomach dropping. He didn't want to fight, he didn't like fighting. He didn't like knowing there was no one at his back, watching over him. He didn't like not having anyone to watch over except for himself.

"Why don't you make me?"

And Percy, deciding it was better to get it over with, stood, marching toward the door, hardly noticing  John Winchester and his cohort sharing startled glances. He was going to make her, just to get some peace and quiet. That's all he wanted. Peace and quiet.