"No, I think I've got a handle on it. I'll get cleaned up here and meet you in Little Rock in a few days," John Winchester said to his oldest son over the phone. John was in Chicago, working on a case he had come across while driving through.
The case was a usual, a nest of vampires hiding just outside the city. To make the case easier, he had decided to stay in an abandoned house near the spots where the victims had been attacked. He easily picked the lock and made a bed for himself. Much like his oldest son, he spent most of his off nights in bars, so he really didn't mind the living conditions.
"Alright. I'll see you in a few days. Goodbye Dean," he finished, hanging up the phone. A noise at the front of the house caught his attention. From his waist band, John pulled his gun. As quietly as he could on the old floor, he walked in the direction of the door. He pressed the gun to the door and listened for more noise. It was silent. With his empty hand he turned the door knob and pulled the door open ever so slightly. Through the small crack John saw nothing. He started to close the door as he heard an infant's cry. Lowering his gun, he opened the door fully and on his door step he found a baby wrapped in a blanket.
"What the hell?" John muttered to himself, bending down to look at the child. Taped to the blanket was a birth certificate. The certificate read 'Mary Winchester' daughter of 'John Winchester'. The mother's name was left blank, and there was no sign of who her mother could be.
The child's cries became constant, and John's fatherly instincts kicked in. He picked the infant up and brought her inside the dark house. He wracked his brain trying to think of who the child could be and whether she really could be his. Had he been in Chicago nine months ago? He looked back at the birth certificate. The infant, Mary, was a month old. Ten months. Ten months ago he had been in Chicago working a case.
"Mary?" he whispered when she had quieted. She cooed hearing his voice. Her small fists moved toward her face as she yawned.
On an impulse John pulled out his phone. He quickly dialed his son and help the phone up to his ear, "Dean? I found another case. Yeah, I've got a handle on it. I'm not going to make it down there... Yeah... Good luck, Dean."
John looked around the room at his few belongings. It had been a long time since he had had a baby, but he knew this was no place for her to stay. Keeping her in his arms, he gathered his belongings and carried them to his car behind the house. John drove to the nearest motel and booked a room. It was late at night, but John found himself unable to sleep. He had no idea what he was going to do about the little girl. He couldn't take an infant on hunts with him. He had already raised two children as hunters, and he'd be lying if he said he didn't regret it at least a little.
Then, he remembered. He had a friend in Chicago that ran a foster home. When he was young, Dean had gotten himself into some trouble with a kid from the home. While John was trying to clean it up, he stumbled across a case. It was a simple solve, but the family was so thankful they offered to take care of Dean and Sam while John hunted. At the time, John turned them down, but now it didn't sound like such a bad idea.
He looked over at Mary, who he had laid on the bed. Mary Winchester. He found it interesting that her mother had picked that name of all the names in the world.
The next morning he took the infant to the foster home just outside the city. He was pleased to find that Joe Spires, the owner, still remembered him.
"John Winchester! I never thought I'd see you again," Spires exclaimed, opening the door for John, "How are the boys?"
"They're doing well," John said as he stepped inside.
"What can I do for you?" Spires asked, glancing to John's arms where the baby was. In John's arms she looked miniscule.
"I was hoping I could take you up on that offer..."
"Whose is she? She Dean's?"
"What? No," John shook his head. The thought hadn't even occurred to him that she could be Dean's, "she's mine, and her mother's gone."
"On the job?" he asked, looking down at the girl.
"She left. Didn't even put a name on the birth certificate," John tried pulling the paper from his pocket, but couldn't while he was holding Mary.
"Here," Spires offered to take her, holding out his arms. John passed her over and pulled the paper from his inside jacket pocket, "What's her name?"
"Mary."
"Mary?"
"Mary Winchester," John nodded, unfolding the paper, "that's all it says."
"Daughter of John Winchester," Spires read, "it looks real." He still held Mary in his arms. John stood quietly while Spires inspected the certificate and looked at the girl, "What do you want to do?"
"I want her to stay here," John said.
"You want to put her in the system?" Spires asked in surprise.
"No, no, no. I want her to stay with you while I hunt. The road is no place for a kid. I should've taken you up on your offer to watch over Sam and Dean."
"She'd grow up without her father and her brothers," Spires pointed out.
"I want her to have a good life."
Spires was quiet for a moment looking at John and then down at the little girl, "Let me ask what Amelia thinks," He gave Mary back to her father and left the room to find his wife.
The baby cooed again, and John looked down at her. He felt guilty for the life she would grow up in, but it was better than life on the road. It would be better if she never knew him.
"John Winchester," a woman's voice came from the door Spires had gone through. John looked up at her.
"Amelia," he smiled at her.
"It's good to see you're still kicking," she walked toward him, "who's this little one?"
"Mary."
"She's beautiful," Amelia smiled, "her mother?"
"Gone. That's why I've brought her here."
"That's what Joe said," Amelia looked at Mary.
"Would you take care of her?" John tried.
"Under one condition," Amelia said, "you need to visit her."
"Visit her?"
"At least once a year. She deserves to know who her father is."
John looked down again at the little girl. Deep down he knew Amelia was right. John knew that leaving her here and visiting once a year was the best option.
"Deal," John decided. He shifted Mary in his arms and prepared to hand her off to Amelia.
"Why don't you hold her a little longer. These are precious moments you'll never get back," Amelia advised, turning her back to John and going to a bookshelf in the corner of the room. From the bookshelf she pulled a camera. John didn't look up from Mary to notice that Amelia had taken a picture of the two of them. Amelia set the camera back as Spires entered the room.
"What did we decide?" he asked before drinking from a glass of water in his hand.
"Mary will stay with us," Amelia smiled, "and John will visit at least once a year."