Set During: Whenever, is kind of AU
This just popped into my head this morning and wouldn't stop bugging me until I got it down on paper.
The world of Supernatural does not belong to me. If it did I wouldn't have to work for a living. Not that I really do anyway, but that's not the point. Onwards and upwards...
By the time they reached the Impala, both boys were exhausted, dragging the spades along behind them. Another body had been salted and burned and another set of clothes were undoubtedly ruined.
Dean stopped as he noticed a small package bundled up on the hood of his car. He stepped forward and reached out for the envelope bearing his name. Meanwhile, Sam dropped his spade and wandered round past Dean to inspect the bundle.
"This is yours" Dean read aloud.
"Oh boy." Said Sam, lifting up a blanket. "Or possibly 'oh girl'."
"Oh no!" Yelled Dean, groaning as his brother held up the pile of blankets to be inspected.
"Hey! HEY!" He yelled into the air, "There's been some mistake! This, this is not mine. No way."
In Sam's arms the baby began to cry.
"I can't raise a baby!" Dean continued to shout at the night sky. Apart from the continuous cries, there was no other sound.
"Besides" He added, glancing down at the note, "I don't remember dating anybody with the initial 'X'."
"I think it's a kiss, Dean." Sam answered, jostling the baby about in an attempt to stop the flow of tears.
"Oh." Dean said, "Well that would make more sense."
"Dean!" Sam suddenly called, exasperated, holding the baby at arm's length and shaking it slightly up and down, "I can't stop it crying."
"Oh give it here!" Dean snapped, snatching for the bundle. Pulling the blankets firmly around the infant, he tucked it comfortably in the crook of his arm and absentmindedly gave it his little finger to suck on.
Sam leant against the door of the car and smirked at his big brother.
"What?"
"You look very natural there." Sam said crossing his arms, a beautiful smile appearing on his face as he watched Dean.
"Yeah well, it's not like I haven't raised a baby before." He said, gently nuzzling the top of its head with his nose. The crying subsided into little hiccoughs. "Although," He added, "You were worse."
Sam rolled his eyes.
"We are NOT keeping this baby, Dean."
5 Years Later
Dean flipped the bacon in the pan. Was it meant to make that noise? He lifted it back up gently with a fork, peering underneath. Was it that black when he put it in?
There was the thump thump of small feet descending the stairs and then little Johnny Winchester rounded the corner into the kitchen.
Dean grinned; his son looked just like Sammy had at that age. Apart from his eyes; they were a brilliant blue. He must have inherited them from his mother. Whoever the hell she was.
John had reached that age of independence and had therefore attempted to dress himself again that morning. Moving the pan off the heat, Dean stepped forward and knelt in front of the boy. At least he had got his trousers on, he mused, even if they were back to front.
He reached up to right the Led Zeppelin t-shirt that John had somehow managed to get his head stuck in the arm of, but the boy just swatted him away.
"I can do it myself!" He struggled for a few seconds and then dropped his shoulders in defeat, looking up at his Dad.
Dean laughed and made him respectable.
"What are you burning?" John asked, screwing up his nose and glancing round his Dad.
"Just go wake up your Uncle Sam, okay?"
John shrugged and raced back up the stairs, pulling the door to Sam's room open and landing in a heap on his bed.
Well actually it was on Sam's chest, but it was all the same to Johnny.
"Five more minutes." Sam muttered, pulling John down for a hug as he rolled over.
"But Sammy, we haven't got five more minutes! Daddy's trying to cook!"
"Oh crap!" Sam said, sitting up and swinging his legs out of the bed, following as his nephew led him downstairs.
Upon reaching the kitchen he barged past Dean and took over, grimacing at the sight before him. Dean just ignored him and washed his hands, running his wet fingers through his son's hair so that it was spiked up on end. John frowned and pushed it back down again determinedly.
He sat down at the table as Sam presented him with the least charred bacon sandwich. John was just about to bite into it when he noticed the pile of bags at the door.
"You're leaving again, aren't you?" He asked his Dad, lowering the sandwich back to the plate.
Sam raised his eyebrows at Dean across the table. Dean pushed his chair back from the table and opened his arms; John crawled gratefully into them.
"It's just a couple of days, kiddo. Maybe a week."
"What is it this time?" Johnny asked, clutching at the material on his Daddy's shirt.
"Vampires."
John frowned. "Are they the ones with the teeth?"
"Yeah." Dean answered, resting his head on the boy's.
"Tell him not to go, Sammy."
"You're not to go Dean." Sam said, from the other side of the table.
Dean reached over and grabbed John's sandwich for him, watching as his son began to nibble on it, getting crumbs all down the front of Dean's shirt. He frowned automatically.
"Who'll look after me?"
"What am I?" Sam asked, standing up, "A potted plant?"
John laughed as he looked across at his Uncle Sammy.
"You'll still have me buster." Sam said, before sprinting upstairs to find a clean suit.
When he and Dean arrived at the kindergarten, John clung desperately to his Dad's hand.
"Come on Dude!" Dean said, shaking him free, "You want these girls to think you're a sap?" John rolled his eyes and ran off into the playground.
"Mr Winchester?" Dean turned round to see the attractive twenty-something teacher that was walking towards him.
"Why Miss Moore." He smiled, "It's Dean, please."
"Mr Winchester, I can't help but notice that you seem dressed for another one of your exploits."
"Work calls," Dean shrugged, "What can I say."
"You're a travelling car dealer."
"Classic car parts actually – the family business."
Miss Moore glanced across at John. "Children need stability, Mr Winchester; it will affect his emotional development if you keep leaving him."
"He has Sammy." He bit the inside of his cheek then continued, "Look I know it's not ideal, but the business is important, not as important as Johnny obviously, and we know that. But there was no point both of us giving it up. And as I am frankly better at it than Sam," He said with a slight smirk, "It only made sense it wasn't me. Besides; he had prospects."
"He's a lawyer, right?"
"Best of the best." He looked across at John and beckoned him over. With a sigh, Miss Moore, walked away to attend to some other parents. Dean hoisted his son up into a bear hug.
"Who's the girl?" He asked, indicating to the small blonde John had been talking to.
"Mary." John said, smiling, "She's my best friend."
"She's pretty."
John had the decency to blush.
"Well don't do anything I wouldn't do."
"Huh?"
"Never mind. Be good for Sam okay, and remember don't mention-"
"-the family business, I know. It's all rainbows and candy canes."
"Dude, who said that?"
"Sammy."
"Well cut it out, I don't want you as gay as he is."
"What's gay?"
"Never mind." Dean repeated, lowering his son to the ground. John looked up into his Dad's eyes.
"Please don't go."
"I'll call you. Every night."
"No you won't."
"Yeah, I will! Well," He amended, "when I get the chance anyway." John buried his face in his Dad's leg.
"I'll bring you a present, how about that?"
John's eyes lit up. "A vampire tooth?"
"Why not? I'll bring you a vampire tooth." Dean watched as John ran into the building with his friends.
"Hey Miss Moore?" The teacher looked round.
"It's Jenny, right?" Dean said, approaching her again, "Look, when I get back do you wanna go for a meal or-"
"Goodbye Mr Winchester, have a safe trip."
"One of these days" Dean mumbled as he headed back to his car.
John pulled the photo album out towards him, and opened the cover. In the first photo sleeve there was a lock of hair. Next to it Sam had scrawled 'Werewolf'. On the next page there was the fingernail of a shape shifter, and so it went on.
John heaved the album off of the bed and dragged it down the stairs behind him.
"Sammy?" He said, pushing open the office door. Sam put down his pen and turned to face his little nephew.
John lifted the book up above his head and handed it to Sam, who pulled it on to the desk and then Johnny onto his lap. John turned to a blank page and reached across the desk for a pen.
"Can you write 'Vampire Tooth' for me?" He asked, snuggling into Sam's shoulder.
"Okay, but this is the last time." He sighed, "Next time ask your Dad for something like a skateboard or an action man."
"Why?" John mumbled into his chest.
"Cause that's what normal kids get."
"But we're not normal. We're special. We save people – we hunt things."
"Yeah I know buster."
"Tell me a story."
"Er, okay. Once upon a time..."
"About vampires, silly!"
"Well the first time we came across vampires they had this nest, and your Daddy kept laughing every time someone said the word 'vampire'. But he went in anyway, armed with a sword or an axe or something – always ready to save those people and kick some ass, y'know."
He glanced down to see if John was listening, but the boy was asleep against his shoulder; a smile across his face.
Sam gently closed the album and cradled John in his arms, carrying him to bed.
They were far from ordinary, but they were family.