Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love?
Can the child within my heart rise above?
And can I sail through the changing ocean tides
Can I handle the seasons of my life?
Oh oh I don't know, oh oh I don't know.
Well, I've been afraid of changing
'Cause I've built my life around you
But time makes you bolder
Children get older I'm getting older too
Yes I'm getting older too
Dean hummed along with the soft music that played from the motel room's ancient cassette player. It was probably the first time Dean was listening to a song that wasn't by Metallica, or Blue Oyster Cult or any of his other favorite bands. It was also very different from the kind of music that he usually listened to. That was probably the reason why he liked it so much; it was different, it was something new, also another major reason why he liked it so much was that it was in a mix tape which was a gift from Sam.
Sam had prepared a mix tape for his brother Dean, for his eighteenth birthday, which was today. The first side of the tape had all of Dean's favorite 'mullet rock' tracks, as Sam would put it. The second side, however, was a collection of some of Sam's favorite tracks, including Landslide by Fleetwood Mac. This band was one of Sam's latest favorites and he really wanted his brother to listen to their songs and appreciate them.
Dean was never the type of kid who got excited about his birthday. He'd rather be happier and thrilled on Sam's birthday, and would do everything possible to make that day special for his little brother. Dean would do whatever was in his capacity to make that one day a year special for his Sammy. But today, on his eighteenth birthday, Dean had this rare feeling of contentment in his heart. He even felt good about himself, which was something he hardly experienced. To sum it all up, Dean felt grown up. And that feeling didn't come off as a burden, as an addition of more responsibilities on his shoulders.
No, Dean felt hopeful. He felt hopeful about the future, about himself, about Sam's life. He had been looking out for his little brother since he was a four-year old toddler, and save for a few scratches, Dean had done a pretty okay job. Dean felt he had done well in following the foremost mission that he had been entrusted with, the day he held his little brother the first time in his tiny arms. The mission of looking out for Sam, of protecting him through these years.
Sitting there in that motel room all by himself- while Sam and Dad were out buying groceries and necessary supplies- Dean promised himself that he would look out for Sammy till his last breath. He would everything within his capacity to give Sammy the life he deserves. As the cool January breeze occupied the tiny room, Dean's eyes drooped down and soon he was blissfully snoring away.
'Dean? Dean, honey wake up.' Dean could hear somebody repeatedly calling out to him. It was a woman, somebody very familiar. But he couldn't recognize who it was; it was as if he'd been hearing this voice after ages. 'Dean, come on wake up, sweetie.' But he didn't want to wake up. It was the best nap he'd had in a long time. Man, this eighteenth birthday's turning out to be pretty awesome, he thought.
'Dean, honey you have to wake up now,' the voice called out once again.
'God, what the hell do you want?!' Dean let out a yell and forced his eyes to open. At first he thought he might've been hearing things in his sleep because there was no one there. But then his eyes fell on the figure just beside the bay window in his room. There was somebody who'd been trying to wake up, somebody very familiar; somebody he hadn't seen in the past twelve years. It was Mary Winchester, his mom.
'Mom…' was all Dean could say. 'M-m-mommy is that-is that really y-y-you?' Dean stuttered.
His mother let out a laugh; the same laugh that he'd longed to hear every single day since the day she died. 'Of course, silly! It's me, your mommy,' Mary said; still beaming down at her son.
'Oh, man! I shouldn't have had that third burrito this morning. It's messed up my brain,' Dean said to himself.
'You had three burritos this morning?' Mary said with serious concern.
Dean was convinced it was one of those vivid, awful dreams; the kind that Sammy had. He went straight to the bathroom to splash some water into his face. The icy cold water felt sharp like a razor on his warm face. When he lifted up his face to look into the mirror, there she was, his mother.
'Geez, why won't I wake up?!' Dean said, irritated.
'Dean, it is me. You're not dreaming,' Mary said.
The next thing Dean did, he leapt towards his mother and engulfed in a giant hug. He held on to her for several minutes, afraid that she might slip away and leave him again. 'Mom, are you here for real?' he asked. It was as if, in an instant, Dean was no longer the mature eighteen year old he'd promised himself to be. He seemed like a four year old once again, afraid to let go of his mommy.
'Yes, I'm here with you, Dean,' was all Mary said. 'I'm always with you,' she added softly.
A single tear streamed down Dean's left cheek. 'I miss you every single second of every single day,' he said.
'I know, honey. I do too; I miss you and Sammy, and your father so much,' Mary said; her eyes welling up with fresh tears.
'You're never leaving us again, right?' Dean asked, a glint of happiness shimmering in his eyes.
Mary ignored his question and said, 'Happy birthday, son. Now I have something to tell you, and I want you to listen to me very, very carefully. You think you can do that?'
'Yes, ma'am,' Dean said obediently.
'Listen, your father and I, we're very proud of you. Never forget that, okay? We will love you no matter what. And even if your father may not show it at times, he loves you and Sammy more than anything in the world. You two keep him going, day after day. And Sammy- you have no idea how much he loves you, how much he looks up to his elder brother. And now you, Dean, never forget how special you are, you have been the best son, the best big brother anyone can ever be. Don't be so hard on yourself, you're good. And if you don't learn to love yourself, you can never appreciate how much others love you and care for you. And remember, I will always be there for you. I may not be visible to you in person, but I'm there in your heart, in your thoughts. Whenever you feel frightened; you feel that there's no hope; remember that mommy is watching over you…always.'
'B-b-but, why're you telling me all this?' Dean enquired.
'Now that you're a grown man, these are certain things you must keep in mind. And I couldn't miss my son's eighteenth birthday, now could I?' Mary beamed at her son.
Dean just stood there, unsure of what to say. Instantaneously, Mary's smile faded and she looked up at the ceiling, her face draped in disappointment. A gentle, white light illuminated the entire room which made Dean to look up and search for its source.
Before he could say anything, Mary kissed him on his forehead and said, 'I love you.'
Dean opened his mouth to say something, but soon the white light that was emanating from the ceiling, gradually engulfed Mary and increased in its intensity.
'Now, go on outside! Your dad's parking the car and he seems to have a surprise for you,' Mary said before fading completely in the shimmering light.
'Mom!' Dean yelled and tried holding her back by the arm but failed to keep his grip. The next thing he knew, he fluttered open his eyes and found himself lying on the living room couch. He almost jumped up and went around the whole house looking for Mary, looking for something to prove that what he'd seen wasn't a dream. He didn't believe that a dream could be this vivid.
Suddenly there was a knock on the door which interrupted Dean's train of thought. He opened it to find his little brother standing with his hands full of brown grocery bags.
'Hey, you're back early,' said Dean.
'Dude, we've been gone for more than an hour,' Sam replied.
'Oh, I was just… I was just listening to that tape you gave me this morning, it's really good,' said Dean.
'I'm glad you liked it,' Sam said, grinning with pride.
'Yeah, yeah. Hey, did you and Dad come back just now?'
'Yeah, Dean, just now. Didn't you hear Dad honking the car?'
'Oh, no, no, yeah, I did,' Dean fumbled and decided to shut up. 'Um, are you gonna let me in or…are you planning to stand and chit-chat here all day,' Sam said, narrowing his eyes.
'Oh, right. Yes, come in please,' Dean said. He was having a hard time getting over what he'd just witnessed.
'Dude, are you alright?' Sam asked, this time genuinely concerned.
'Yeah, no I'm fine. I just, I guess I shouldn't have had that third burrito in the morning,' Dean said.
'Oh, by the way, there are some more grocery bags in the car. Go and get them, will you?' Sam said.
'There are more bags? Did you two grocery shop for the whole year or something?' Dean said and exited out of the motel room.
A little way ahead, Dean saw his father standing in front of the Impala with a huge smile on his face.
'Happy birthday, son,' said John.
'Dad, you already wished me once in the morning but thanks anyway,' Dean said.
'Is it a crime now to wish your son twice on his birthday?' John asked a stern face.
'No, sir,' Dean replied. John smiled back at his son's reply.
'Son, I have something that I want you to have,' John said. 'It's a gift for your birthday,' he added.
'Dad, you didn't have to do all that. It's alright, really. I'm eighteen now, I'm not a kid anymore.'
'All the more reason to give you this gift.'
'But, Dad-' Dean was about to say something but was interrupted by his father.
'No, I'm not listening to your arguments this time. Just take the keys and let's not stretch this issue any further,' John said and shoved the keys into Dean's hands.
Grimacing, Dean opened the back door of the Impala only to find an empty seat. 'Well, there's nothing in there. Where's the surprise?' Dean asked.
'I just gave it to you,' said John.
'No, you didn't. You just gave me the keys to the Imp-' Dean stopped mid-sentence. 'No way! Dad, are you serious? The-the Impala…that's my gift?' Dean lit up as if he were a seven year old in a toy store.
'But how can you give me the Impala? I mean, it's your car!'
'Yeah, well it's yours now. But be very careful, she shouldn't get the tiniest of scratches,' John warned him. Dean's happiness knew no bounds. 'Don't worry, Dad. I'll make sure Baby remains as good as new always,' Dean promised.
'So you still don't want a birthday gift?' Dean turned around to find Sam walking towards him and his father. 'Are you kidding me, Sammy?' Dean replied.
'Come on now, boys, the food's getting cold,' John said and motioned for all of them get inside.
'Thanks, Dad,' said Dean. 'Thank you as well, Sammy,' he added.
'Hey, no chick-flick moments, buddy,' Sam said, imitating his elder brother.
'Bitch.'
'Jerk.'
'Thanks a lot, Mom,' Dean said, looking up at the sky, before closing the motel room's door.
The End.