SUMMARY: John Winchester is struggling to balance hunting with the rest of his life, and realizes that his kids need him, and that he needs them just as much. Fluff and feels from the Aly-verse. Same AU as "The Adventures of Alyson Winchester".
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hello Dear Readers! If this is your first time reading one of my fanfics, please check out my profile for more stories with Alyson Winchester. The main story is called 'The Adventures of Alyson Winchester', and there is now a sequel called 'Winchester Interrupted: The Further Adventures of Alyson Winchester'. There are also several one-shots about Aly at different ages. I hope you enjoy them- please leave me a review and let me know what you like!
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Dean had greeted John with the news that Aly was cutting not one, but two new teeth, and had been excessively grumpy this weekend because of that, and also that she had learned how to take off her pants and her diaper. His pale, strained face was a testament to just how grumpy the baby was- Dean didn't like when his sister or brother cried, especially when there was nothing he could really do to make them feel better.
Aly had been extra clingy, as she often was when she was cranky from cutting teeth or not feeling well. John had felt like he just couldn't handle it this time, and he tried to keep the snuggling to a minimum. Aly didn't understand it, why he set her down and walked away, and she toddled after him with her arms up, crying. He wished he was still at the bar where he had stopped on the way home; he had sat for almost an hour nursing a whiskey, until he told himself he had to get home for the boys, since they had school in the morning.
This hunt had been particularly bad. His first solo Salt-n-Burn- a mother ghost who had drowned her twins, but it turned out that her husband had been abusing her and he had killed them all and set it up to look like she had killed the kids.
All the research he had done, finding the articles and police reports online, none of it had prepared him to handle when he had been in the house confronting the ghosts. They were stuck in their little 'time loop' that was what a residual haunting actually was - an "energy recording" of a traumatic event- and he was going to release them, but the looks of terror on the children's faces and hearing them cry for Mommy had been almost too much to handle. The woman was blond and lithe like Mary had been and the kids were a little older than Aly with the same fluffy blond hair that she had.
John's rage when he had discovered the husband's haunting, and seen him towering over his wife, and then his sorrow when he finally released them, had been almost too much to handle. He had found a flask in the trunk of the car and drank it down quickly, and then packed all of his equipment in record time. He'd write it up later in his journal, right now he wanted to get the hell away from the house and the memories and the pain.
Away from his memories and pain- looking up and seeing his wife on the ceiling, her pale face and the stark contrast of the bright red blood dripping from her abdomen- and his utter terror at realizing that his life was now forever changed and she was gone.
He didn't allow himself to cry, because he felt that if he started he wouldn't be able to stop. On the drive back he found a crappy little bar and pulled in, and ordered a drink. He thought about drinking himself into oblivion but he knew he had to drive and get home to his kids.
Aly had been crying in her room for 15 minutes now, as long as the current baby books said to let a toddler cry, and he was about to go into the kitchen and slam the whole bottle of Jack down his throat, anything to drown out Aly's cries and the memory of the ghost children's cries.
He sat in the living room watching the baby monitor buzz and light up in response to Aly's fussing, it was set to vibrate like a pager. As her cries got louder and more strident, the monitor buzzed so rapidly that it vibrated its way off the table and clattered onto the floor. He bent down and picked it up, turning the dial to the off position, and then stood up to go tend to her.
John opened Aly's bedroom door and saw something white flying at him. He reached up and caught it out of the air before it landed on his face. It was Aly's pajama bottoms. He walked over to her- she was standing in her crib, holding onto the rail, wearing nothing but a white pajama top that had pink rocking horses all over it. Her diaper was open and lay on the floor in front of the crib, along with her pink bunny and her blanket.
"Up, Da," she said, bouncing on her toes, "Uppy! Uppy!" That was Aly-speak for 'I'm awake and want to get out of my crib'. Her face was wet with tears and the front of her shirt had a large wet spot on it from her drool. She was drooling a lot more because of the teething.
He picked her up out of the crib, and leaned down to pick the diaper up off of the floor.
"Da! Daaaaa!" she wailed, holding tight to him.
"Let's get your pajamas back on and then it's back to bed for you," he told her.
"No! No ny-ny! No go, Da!" Aly was getting more upset, and agitated, crying harder, as he carried her over to the low dresser that also doubled as a changing table. He set the diaper down, tried to put her down, and all of a sudden she put her mouth on his arm. He felt her mouth press down, and then the sharpness of her little teeth bit into his wrist. She had developed a habit of biting things while teething.
"Ouch, Goddammit!" he yelled in surprise. She jerked back and her face got red, and then she began to bawl loudly.
Dean hurried into the room and took her out of John's arms, leaning over and pulling something out of the top drawer. John heard him murmuring to Aly as he left the room.
He walked over and picked up her bunny and blanket, depositing them back into the crib.
Dean was back in a few moments.
"Where's the baby?" John asked, holding on to the crib rail tightly.
"Sammy has her," Dean replied. He put his hand on John's arm. "It's okay, Dad," he said, like he always did.
John turned towards him. "This one was rough, Dean," he said brokenly, "There were kids, little kids, and the ghost, she looked like your mo-" He couldn't say the word, it caught in his throat like a bone.
"Dad, it's okay," Dean repeated, "It's gonna be okay."
John looked at Dean's earnest face, at his clear green eyes which were a carbon copy of Mary's, and he wanted to cry. He wanted to scream and rage to the heavens that this was his life now, hunting and killing supernatural beings, that his wife was gone and he was left alone to raise three children. It wasn't fair to any of them, dammit. He wanted to give up. He wanted to find a bottle of something and crawl in there and stay for weeks at a time, but he couldn't. He had to keep going on, keep continuing for his kids' sake, and so he could find what had killed his wife.
He sighed. "Let's go get the baby," he said to his son. The front door was open and John looked outside.
Sam had Aly on his hip and they were standing on the edge of the front porch. Aly had a sippy cup cradled in one arm and her other arm was wrapped around Sam's bicep. She was now diapered and wearing a clean, dry onesie with snaps in the crotch.
Sam pointed upwards to the sky. "And you see those, that line of three stars? That's Orion's belt," Sam told her.
"Fee tah?" she asked.
"Yeah, those three stars," Sam replied.
"Wy-un?" Aly's head was tilted back to look at the night sky.
"Yep, Orion's belt," Sam told her.
John came out onto the porch, Dean following, and they turned to look at him.
Aly pointed upwards. "Fee tah, Da," she said solemnly. Then she held her arms out to him, opening and closing her hand. "Da, up," she said, and her face began to look upset.
John stepped forward and took her, placing her on his hip, and she curled her arm around his neck and laid her head on his shoulder. He leaned down and smelled her, the slightly floral scent of her baby shampoo, the powdery smell of the lotion on her skin, and underneath that, her clean-baby smell. He closed his eyes and inhaled, putting his hand on her head and stroking her soft, wispy hair.
He opened his eyes and looked at her and she lifted her head and looked at him. "Fee tah, Da," she said again, pointing up.
"I see, Aly," he replied.
She looked at his face as if she was appraising him, and her face suddenly looked older and mature. She placed one hand on his upper arm and said, "Oh-kay, Da," in the exact same tone of voice that Dean used when he was comforting John after a hunt. He realized she must be copying what she heard her brother say, but the wise-beyond-her-years look on her face shook him. What was this doing to him, to his family, making him want to hide in a bottle and causing his kids to feel like they had to comfort him? They didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve it. But he was in the life, and he had sworn to find out what had killed his wife, and to get rid of it. He owed her- and all of them- that much.
John felt tears come to his eyes and he wrapped his arms around Aly and pulled her close to him. "Oh, baby girl," he said softly, and felt her lean her head on his shoulder again.
"Dad?" Sam asked quietly, "You okay?"
John felt his chest hitch once and wiped his eyes with one hand. "Yeah, Sammy, I'm okay," he said, and cleared his throat.
Sam stepped close to him, and then Dean was on the other side of him, and he felt both boys put their arms around his back. He moved his arm around Sam, and Sam snuggled closer into his side. He realized that Sam still needed physical affection even though he was getting older, and he hadn't seen it because Sam had fallen into the role of Aly's caretaker. John saw that he couldn't let his kids' needs slip away from him, he still had to be their father and care for them. He felt comforted by their closeness, and secure in the fact that they were all here with him.
Aly had wrapped her legs around John's torso, and John slipped his other arm around Dean. Dean put his arm around John's stomach, supporting Aly's bottom. The four of them stood together, all holding on to each other.
"De," Aly crooned, leaning over and putting her head on Dean's for a moment.
Dean reached up and stroked the back of Aly's head and she grinned at him.
"Fee tah," she said.
"Yes," John agreed, "I have my three stars right here."
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This is dedicated to my three stars.