Disclaimer!: Anything you recognise (unless it was from the previous story character wise...) I dont own!
A/N: Well, ladies and Gentlemen... Here it is, the sequel to "The Hardest Part Of Letting Go Is Holding On". I actually really like this chapter and dont go judging me straight away, read until the end before you start to throw things at me. Thanks.
Leave thoughts and stuff in a review if you wouldnt mind! So, nothing else to say really... except a MASSSSVIE HUGE BIG HUG and THANKS to my wonderful amazinf Beta Camlann who is just so awesome... and... Enjoy!
Didn't Think I'd Get this Far without You.
Naomi glanced at the clock on the wall of her office, sighing when she saw that it read half past four. The meeting would start in fifteen minutes and end pretty soon after, giving her enough time to go and pick up a few Christmas presents before grabbing dinner and heading home to her little boy before his bed time. The thought of him brought a smile to her face as she got up from her desk and walked towards the floor-to-ceiling windows, walking in between the mannequins with Spring/Summer clothing on them. Naomi reached the window and let out a soft sigh at the sight; New York was truly beautiful in the winter. The tops of buildings and all of the ground dusted with a fine white snow, the kind you see in the movies: the sun trying to break through grey clouds to soften the glow of the city in the mid afternoon.
Resting her head against the window, Naomi watched the people walk hand-in-hand down the streets, couples and families, and a sudden feeling of loneliness and pain welled up inside of her as the tears began to fill her eyes. They were feelings she'd grown familiar with other the past few years, feelings she'd grown accustomed to for the most part, but they seemed to grow more prominent and unbearable at this time of year. Christmas was hard. So was Valentines' Day. And Fathers' Day. And birthdays. And her wedding anniversary…
Naomi crossed the large spacious office in a rush, pulling the framed photograph from her desk and holding it to her, the pine frame digging into her chest as she tried to stifle her sobs. She calmed down enough to glance down at the image of the two smiling faces, their eyes shining with happiness as she lay snuggled up to him. It used to sit on the coffee table in her apartment, but she had taken it and placed it here when she'd been hired on permanently by the fashion design firm. The door to her office swung open, and she spun away from the people entering, flipping on the radio to the only channel she knew that played Christmas songs 24/7 and tried to compose herself.
"Naomi, sweetheart, we absolutely have to discuss these wonderful designs!" came the slightly over-excited voice from behind her. Naomi spun around, smile in place and winked at the man.
"Sure thing, Chris!" she smirked, walking over to the far wall and pulling over the cart with fresh coffee, biscuits, Christmas goodies, and anything thing else the assistant who was obviously trying to score some points had decided to put on it.
"You are such a darling!" Chris announced. pulling Naomi into a tight hug after she managed to manoeuvre the cart between her designs and the chairs. "How is the tiny tot doing?" he gushed, and Naomi grinned brightly at him. Chris had been her knight-in-shining-spandex when she'd first gotten here. He always acted like the gayest guy in the world, but he was straight. Straighter than straight if Naomi was honest. His blonde hair always covered one eye, the left one, and it was pink at the tips. He was thinner than her, skinny jeans and anything remotely feminine he was in the front of the queue.
"Chris, for the love of God, sit your skinny ass down, so we can get down to business. We'd like to get out of here sometime today. Besides, our resident superstar Naomi is going on a two-week holiday today!" Josh - the manager- barked playfully, and Chris dramatically threw himself onto the chair with the most cushions.
"Let the discussion commence!" Reese yelled, clapping her hands together and diving for a silk dress. "I want this one!" she laughed removing it from the mannequin and holding it against her body.
"Sweetie, it was made for you!" Chris beamed, springing from the chair with such flamboyancy that he landed on Josh who, in turn toppled over and crashed to the floor in a pile of fabric and limbs.
"Well done," Reese scolded dryly as she moved to help them up. But Naomi didn't even notice the chaos, suddenly swept away in memories as Bing Crosby's "White Christmas" began to play through the stereo speakers…
Naomi held him tighter to her as they made their way through the busy streets of downtown New York. It would have been a lot easier to bring the car but she had instead opted to just trudge through the blistering cold to take him to see Santa. "White Christmas" was being played by some random band in the park, the cheerful nature of the song managing to bring a smile to her face despite the empty feeling that something - someone- was missing. It was their first winter up north, and already a winter storm front was moving in, something she was a bit worried about, and her worry only increased as snow began to fall from the sky. The big flakes of snow landed on his hat and coat, unnoticed by the little boy who was gazing at Naomi's hair with childish glee, laughing merrily at the sight of the snow falling on the long, brown curls that had escaped from her own hat.
"And what do you find so funny, young man?" Naomi teased as she turned her head to gaze into the sparkling green orbs.
"You gots clouds in your hair, Momma!" The little boy giggled, and Naomi let out a loud laugh,even as he looked on in confusion.
"Sammy, these aren't clouds, baby—this is snow." She tried to explain; the attempt, however, was futile as her son stubbornly insisted that he was right and that they were clouds and they were falling from the sky. Naomi didn't mind—as long as he didn't run around and scream that the sky was falling, she was content to let her three-year-old live under the illusion that the clouds were falling down.
"Momma?" he asked her quietly, his enormous eyes gazing back at her as they stopped at the traffic lights.
"Yeah, baby?" she asked, smiling as she kissed his cheek.
"Does the sky fall where daddy is?" Naomi stared at him for a long time, unsure of what to say.
"Well, maybe sweetie, I don't know?" she asked softly. Sammy's eyes fell onto her shoulder, before he looked back at her with the same desperation that Dean had in his eyes that night...
"What bout the angels, Momma?" he asked, seemingly in-tune with her reluctance to talk about Dean.
"What about them?" She plastered on a smile and crossed the street, her arms tightening around his small frame.
"Will they all get hurt it's really up high?" his eyes wore that pained expression that had Naomi painfully reminding herself that it was her son's eyes and not Dean's that she was looking into.
"No baby, they won't get hurt either," she reassured him, and his eyes seemed to brighten to an impossible shade of emerald green.
"Are we there, yet?" he asked, snuggling into her scarf.
"Yeah, Sammy, look." She raised her hand and pointed to the building made to look like a cottage across the street. "There's Santa's workshop there." Squealing with excitement, he squirmed to get down, and with a last squeeze, she relented, allowing him to get down and walk beside her. She nevertheless kept a tight grip on his hand as they neared, only letting go when they'd safely reached the little cottage and the line of children waiting for their turn to talk to Santa.
After impatiently waiting his turn—he was, indeed, his father's son—Sammy finally got to the front of the line, and Naomi couldn't help but laugh as he raced over to the elf who lifted him up and placed him on Santa's lap.
"Well, young man, what's your name?" the man in the Santa suit asked. Dean always said he wanted his kids to have the Santa experience, hope this is as good as he wished it would be. Naomi smiled.
"I'm Samuel Dean Winchester—but only when momma and Aunt Lola are mad, when they not, I'm Sammy," he smiled brightly and everyone laughed.
"Okay Sammy, how old are you, then?" Santa grinned down at the little boy when he looked up at him.
"Three."
"Wow, aren't you a big boy for three! So what would you like for Christmas?"
"Well," Sammy paused to think, "I want one of those Transformers trucks that turn into a robot and can step on cars, and Power Rangers—but only the red one and the blue one, don't want the girly ones!—and um...little army men!"Sammy carried on, ringing off all the toys he wanted for Christmas as Naomi ran through her mental check list to see which toys she had, which ones she still had to get and which ones she should add to the list.
"Santa, can you bring me anything I want? Anything in the whole wide world?" Sammy asked, interrupting Naomi's thoughts, No Sammy please don't go there, we've talked about this…
"Of course young man, I'll do my best to make room for it in my sleigh," Santa said with a chuckle and a smile.
Naomi held her breath as she waited for her son's response.
"Can you bring my Daddy home for Christmas? He's maybe kinda big—bigger 'an me, I guess—but I don't think he's too big for your sleigh," Sammy told him earnestly, his eyes filled with such hope that Naomi couldn't help the tear that made its way down her cheek in the silence of the makeshift grotto.
"Naomi?"
The sound of Reese calling her name brought her abruptly back to the present, and she shook her head as Reese dropped a bundle of fabric onto one of the chairs, and slowly approached her.
"Darling?" Chris called gently as he, too, made his way over to Naomi, slipping his arms around her and as she began to sob into his chest. "That's it, honey, let it all out." he soothed, shocked when she pushed him back.
"I'm fine, I'm sorry," Naomi forced out brokenly, as she pushed him away again, embarrassed by the show of emotion. How can I be so stupid as to fall apart on the? Come on, Naomi, get yourself together! "Sorry, it's just the first Christmas without my dad—he used to sing that song," she told them, and though it was the God-honest truth, she knew that wasn't the whole truth. Naomi shrugged and wiped at her eyes with her sleeve. Josh came over and hugged her tightly. She loved Josh hugs. They weren't anywhere near as good as Dean hugs—they were more… cuddly. Josh himself was on the larger side of life, which, in turn, made his hugs so much more huggable. Naomi sighed as she pulled away from the hug and smiled gently at him.
"Can we hurry this up a little please, I have left my son's life in the hands of a rather eccentric girl, who doesn't really know how to cook properly." Naomi smiled and the others laughed, making their way over to the seat.
An hour of chatter and laughter and bantering back and forth later, the new NW spring/summer collection was ready to be launched onto the catwalks and into mass production as soon as the offices reopened after the Christmas holidays.
"Come on—I'll walk you to your car," Reese offered as she handed Naomi her purse and coat.
"Thanks." Naomi smiled gratefully, giving the two men a final hug before walking out of the office arm-in-arm with Reese.
"Look if you need anything over the break, just let me know okay?" Reese smiled, tucking a lock of dyed red hair behind her ear. Reese was a forty-something drifter, a bit like a mother to Naomi since she'd gotten the job and had lost her father the year before.
"I will, thanks—you, too!" Naomi replied as she shrugged her coat on and pulled her hair out of the collar, tucking her purse under her arm and pushing the button for the elevator.
"I'm serious, Naomi. Anything you need, lemme know, and I'll be there. I know how hard it is." Reese offered a smile as she preceded Naomi into the elevator.
"I know, and I appreciate it, Reese, I really do," Naomi told her sincerely as she hit the button for the ground floor and leaned back against the cool metal of the wall. "It's just Sammy I'm worried about. It's his first Christmas without his Grandaddy, and with things being as they are…well, I just don't know how well he'll cope, you know?" Naomi let out a shaky exhale, telling herself to hold the tears at bay until she got into bed that night. Or at least until she got to the car.
"Sorry kiddo, I can't help you out there. I guess the best you can do is remind him how much his Grandad loved him and that he's watching over him." Reese's gaze dropped to the floor, a sudden sadness filled the confined space, something which Naomi hadn't felt since…
"You should stop by over the holidays and tell him so yourself—I know he'd love to see you," Naomi said suddenly. She meant it, of course she did, but she knew it was meant as a distraction.
"Yeah," Reese whispered, the door pinged open, "I think I will sometime," She pushed the hold button and hugged Naomi close. "Give that boy of yours a hug from me, have a good Christmas!"
"You too, and I sure will!" Naomi kissed her on the cheek and stepped backwards out of the elevator, pulling her cell and her keys from her purse as her heels clacked across the tiled floor of the reception area.
"Night, Mrs. Winchester!" the janitor, Leo, called, and Naomi flashed him a winning smile.
"Night, Leo, and Merry Christmas!" The swish of the door muffled his reply, but she knew it would have been a return of her greeting and another to pass onto her Sammy.
Shit…Sammy! Naomi thought as she glanced at her watch. I should have called an hour ago! Dammit. It was their little tradition: she would call at five o'clock every night when she was working, they would have a chat, and then Sammy would go get Lola and eat his dinner, all ready for Naomi to bathe him when she got home and put him to bed. Dialling the house number, she unlocked the car, slipping fluidly behind the wheel of the familiar, black '67 Chevy Impala and pulling her seat belt on.
"Hello Nichols residence, Lola speaking."
"For the love of God, Lola, it's Winchester. Not Nichols. Hasn't been for over three years now," Naomi snarled, realizing that she was taking her feelings out on Lola, but unable to stop herself from snapping at her best friend. Because it wasn't Lola she wanted to be speaking to. It wasn't Lola she wanted answering her phone at home. She wanted Dean. But she couldn't have him, and the unfairness of it all came bursting out of her over the phone in a wave of bitchiness that she knew was uncalled for. Still, Lola wasn't one to take that sort of thing without retaliating, so she returned the favor in kind.
"Oh, hi, Naomi—glad you finally decided to call," Lola retorted, her voice full of biting sarcasm that was unmistakeable despite the seemingly friendly words. "I have a petrified three-year-old here who thinks his momma's gone with the angels forever like his Grandad !" Lola yelled and Naomi sighed.
"I got caught up, I'm sorry. Just…put him on, please." Naomi rested her head against the steering wheel, the smooth leather bringing her no comfort at all.
"Momma!"
"Hey, baby. Momma's sorry for not calling sooner--," she began…
"Where're you at?" he asked tearfully. It shouldn't be like this. He shouldn't have to be afraid that no one'll be there for him.
"I'm leaving work right now," she told him.
"But why you not here now? You's 'posed to be here now."
"I know, sweetheart, but Momma was working really hard, and—"
"I want you to be home now—I don't want you to be not here like Daddy and Granddaddy."
"I know you don't. But I'm on my way, and I'm coming as fast as I can."
"In Daddy's car?"
"Uh-huh."
"And you'll be here in a few minutes?"
Eh, close enough. It would be more like half-an-hour, but Sammy's sense of time was what every three-year-old's sense of time was: a matter of minutes, and trying to get him to understand anything beyond that was still relatively futile.
"Yes, sweetheart—I'll be home soon," she told him, her heart heavy as she listened to him cry with a heavy heart.
"You promise you wont leave me here by my own?"
"I promise I won't leave you."
"Not ever?"
"No baby, not ever." Naomi's eyes stung with the unshed tears, the words she had just said to their son had been used to comfort her, to promise her she wouldn't be on her own. "I'll be home in a bit, love." Naomi tried to soothe the little boy as he burst into tears, a mixture of relief and tiredness Naomi presumed.
"I miss you, Momma." Sammy sobbed down the line, his little fingers clutched around the black receiver.
"I miss you too, baby. But try not to cry okay? You don't want to upset Aunt Lola anymore, do you?"
"No ma'am," he said with a sniffle, trying like the brave boy he was to stop crying. Hearing her voice seemed to have calmed him down a little, not enough to listen to the rumble in his stomach and go eat his dinner, but enough to exchange "I love you's" with her and hang up the phone.
Oh, Dean, what am I supposed to do? He's an emotional wreck whenever I leave the house, now. With a sigh, she pressed down harder on the accelerator, more anxious than ever to get back home.
"So, little man, you gonna come eat?" Lola asked, as she scooped him up into her arms and walked down the hall into the massive country-style kitchen. As she sat down at the kitchen table and pulled him into her lap, Lola placed a gentle kiss on his temple as she pulled the plate from the centre of the table where Sammy had shoved it earlier.
"Nuh-uh," the little boy told her, shaking his head emphatically as he pushed the plate back into the centre of the table.
"Come on Sammy, you gotta eat." Lola pulled the plate towards them again and set about cutting the now cold chicken nuggets into even smaller bits.
"Not 'til Momma's here." Sammy clamped his mouth shut, turned his face into her shoulder and crossed his arms in protest.
"You really are your father's son, you know that?" Lola murmured under her breath and petulantly pushed the plate away from them.
"Daddy." Sammy pulled his head back from Lola's shoulder and smiled brightly at her.
"What about him?" Lola refused to meet Sammy's gaze, instead focusing on smoothing her fingers through Sammy's unruly blonde mop of hair.
"Tell me."
"About what?" Lola looked down at the empty spot on the table where the plate used to be.
"Tell me 'bout Daddy, silly." Sammy smirked at her, a carbon copy of Dean's that left Lola feeling like an idiot. It was ridiculous to let a three-year-old get to her that way, but he was just so damn good at it, that smirk conveying the full effect of his father's ability to make anyone want to ram their head into a wall out of sheer frustration. Sad, Lola. So sad.
"What do you want to know about him?" Lola gathered Sammy into her arms, getting the feeling that pictures may be necessary in their little discussion, and made her way out of the kitchen and into the living room that had been transformed from a Moroccan set-up of deep reds, chocolate browns and soft beige to a Christmas cottage of bright reds and greens, Santa hats and reindeer, tinsel and pine leaves, baubles and presents.
"Umm…" Sammy looked pensive as Lola settled them on the beige sofa amongst the throws and cushions, sinking into the comforting warmth. "Did he love Momma since forever?" his little voice piped up.
"Sure did, sweetie," she said, her eyes drifting around the room before settling on the photograph of Dean and Naomi next to the ultrasound picture of Sammy. "That's why Momma drives the 'pala." Lola leaned forward, her eyes never leaving the photograph on the fireplace. Sammy followed her gaze, staring wistfully back at the photo with a sadness that was heartbreaking in a child so young.
"Momma and Daddy." He smiled and he pushed off of her lap, walking over to the fireplace and gazing up the photograph. Lola walked over and picked him up, putting him eye level with the picture of his parents, about to say something only to be interrupted by the loud rumble of Sammy's tummy.
"Tell you what," she set him back down on the floor, dropping to her haunches so she was eye level with him and cupped his face in her hands, "I'll give momma a call, ask her to bring in some ice-cream while you go and eat your dinner all up. Deal?"
"Um… Ask momma to bring Sammy pie?" Sammy smiled brightly and Lola rolled her eyes.
"Fine… Deal?" she asked unsurely, waiting for another change to the plan until Naomi was bringing in allsorts of treats and his chicken nuggets remained on the table.
"Deal!" Sammy nodded, racing out of the room, leaving Lola to chuckle as she took her phone out of her pocket to call Naomi.
"Hello?"
"Hey, it's me."
"Yeah, I know, what do you want?" Naomi's clearly irritated voice came through the phone.
"Sorry, Mrs Grinch, I would like to speak to my best friend." Lola grit back.
"Sorry Lola, I shouldn't be taking this out on you, I'm tired and I have an over emotional kid whenever I leave the house and now I'm babbling all my problems away to you down the phone. Sorry babe, what were you calling for?" Naomi stopped in the middle of the aisle, list clutched in the hand that rested against the shopping cart, feeling like a complete bitch.
"It's fine, that's what I'm here for right?" Lola let out a long breath. "Sammy wouldn't eat his dinner so I made a deal with him…. He eats his chicken nuggets, you bring him in some pie."
"Fine, I'll bring him in pie?" since when did he eat pie? Naomi thought as she reached up and pulled the box with the toy truck down, placing it in the cart and went to end the call, when she heard Lola's voice. "What did you just say?" She asked as she put her phone back to her ear.
"I said he was asking about Dean earlier…you're gonna have to talk to him, N." Lola's voice seemed to have a ring of sympathy to it, and Naomi let out a breath.
"Okay," she murmured. "See you when I get home—I shouldn't be long." With that, Naomi ended the call and pocketed the cell. If there was something I didn't need right now, that would be it, Naomi thought sadly as her new nickname reverberated through her mind—no-one called her 'Mimi' anymore, just Naomi or Mrs. Winchester or some other pet name meant to offer comfort but serving to do nothing but highlight how alone she actually was. Which is something else I don't wanna think about right now. She mentally scolded herself as she went in search of a check -out and stepped into the shortest line to put the toys and pie that she had retrieved up onto the conveyor belt, when something caught her attention. To her far left, there was a young couple, about the age she and Dean were when…
They look so happy together, so in love, Naomi thought as she caught her lip between her teeth. This was not the place for a break down. Smiling at the cashier, she handed him her card. The card that had his name on it, the card that he got for her. Naomi grabbed her bags and raced out of the store, the overwhelming feeling of loneliness almost drowning her when she saw the car, his car in a solitary spot in the Wal-Mart parking lot. The car—his car, the little voice in her head reminded her—that used to bring her comfort now only brought her pain and the unbearable acknowledgement that he should be here. With her. Right now.
Naomi got the distinct feeling that she was being watched as she loaded the toys and the food into the car. The eerie chill that went up her spine gave her the distinct feeling that she should grab for the holy water and shotgun she still kept in the truck of the Impala... well, the holy water that she kept safely tucked away in her purse. A rustle in the trees startled Naomi even further, and she let out a breath. The place was too open, too vast to pinpoint the noise and far too big to walk about waving a shot gun. That would go down real well with the sheriff, Naomi thought to herself. "So sorry, Officer, I was looking for this demon that may or may not be stalking my family, but don't worry—it couldn't have killed anyone, the rounds are filled with rock salt." Yeah, that would go down real well.
Naomi allowed herself a little smirk as she pushed the cart to the little place in the middle of the parking lot. The short walk back was even quicker when Naomi power-walked to the car, telling herself over and over that it was the cold she was running from and not the creepy feeling. Slipping behind the wheel and closing the door, locking herself safely inside, Naomi let out a shaky breath and rested her head against the steering wheel. Come on Naomi, what would Dean say? Dean would go and check it out, better to be safe than sorry, stop being a wuss and go freaking see! When movement caught her eye, Naomi opened the driver's door and got out, standing against the Impala, her breath fogging in front of her eyes into the crisp cold winter night.
"Hello?" She called into the almost darkness, getting even more worried when there was no reply except the echo of her own voice. "Who's there?" She yelled again, annoyance more then anything starting to well up inside of her. Letting out an agitated breath, Naomi climbed back into the car, hitting the steering wheel in sheer annoyance, before firing up the engine and peeling out of the parking lot, completely missing the flickering streetlights and the figure that stepped out of the shadows.
Naomi flipped the radio off as she drove the wintry, 'it's-a-week-till-Christmas' roadways, disheartened by the sight of people out carolling and the lawns covered with lights, decorations, and snowmen. The past three years had been the same: she would cry herself to sleep every Christmas Eve waiting for the one person she knew wouldn't be there, wishing for him, needing him, wanting him to be there to hold her and tell her that everything would be alright. But every year, she wished, only to wake up alone. Without Dean.
Naomi bit her lip against the onslaught of tears that threatened her again and pulled into the driveway of her uptown New York home, waiting impatiently for the automatic doors of the garage to open so she could take the Impala inside. There was no way she was leaving his baby out in the snow. After securing the garage, she made her way into the house through the kitchen door, and looked around, placing the pie down carefully on the counter. Naomi didn't see him at first, and by the time he launched himself at her, it was too late to defend herself.
"Momma!"
"Sammy! Hey, baby!" Naomi unattached Sammy from her leg and pulled him into her arms, resting him on her hip. "I brought you pie like you wanted!" Naomi kissed him on the side of the head and hugged him closer to her body, his little limbs wrapping themselves as tightly as possible around his mother.
"You were gone for forever and ever, and I thought you was never gonna come back! I put all my toys away and eated my dinner all up and everything." Sammy said emphatically, looking up at Naomi with big green eyes filled with innocence.
If you're anything like Dean, "put away" means thrown in a corner someplace. "Wow," she told him with convincing pride in her voice at his accomplishment. "Pity you couldn't be a good boy and eat your dinner." Naomi raised an eyebrow at him, and Sammy looked to the floor with that kicked-puppy look that always managed to ruin any attempt to scold him.
"I eated what I could mange momma, but I had to leave room for pie!" He smiled again and Naomi shook her head.
"Go on, then and sit at the table" Naomi kissed him again before setting him down onto the floor, allowing him to make his own way over to the table, and climb up onto his chair.
"Lola, where art thou Lola?" Naomi sniggered.
"I'm in the living room, Romeo!" Lola called back.
"Momma?" he whispered quietly as Naomi got plates out of the cupboard and shrugged out of her coat.
"Yeah?" she asked, pulling pie out of the bag. She hated giving him things with this much sugar at half past six, but she didn't have any other choice right now.
"I miss him." His little voice was filled with so much hurt that Naomi had to lean on the counter for support.
"Miss who, baby?" she asked, knowing the answer even as she turned to see his little head bowed as he fiddled with his hands, fidgeting uncomfortably on the chair.
"Daddy." His voice trembled as did his bottom lip, the little boy doing his best not to cry.
"I miss him, too, sweetheart," Naomi smiled sadly and walked over to the table, turning her son around in the chair and kneeling beside him. "But he loves you very, very much, and he wants you to be strong for him, baby—you can do that for Daddy, can't you?" she asked, doing her best not to cry in front of her son.
"Uh-huh," he mumbled, nodding sadly, his gaze still glued to the floor.
"Come on, little man, How about you go and get Aunt Lola for me?" Naomi asked, titling his head up to meet hers and giving him a kiss on each cheek.
"'kay," he nodded again and allowed Naomi to lift him off of the chair before racing out of the kitchen, Naomi returning to the counter and abandoned dinner.
What would Dean do if he were here and not me? Naomi wondered to herself. She had always had a strong bond with her son, but she knew all the same that she just couldn't be everything for her son. A boy needed his father. It was like her and her own father—while she had always been a daddy's girl, there had been times when she needed her mother. There were just some things a girl needed her mother for, and there were just some things that a boy needed his father for. God, I miss him so much, miss them both so much. Naomi swallowed around the lump in her throat when she heard the pitter patter of Sammy's little feet racing along the hall way and back into the kitchen, Lola's voice echoing behind him as she hollered for him to slow down.
"Hey N, how was work?" Lola lifted Sammy into his chair despite his protests and threw a curious look in Naomi's direction when she barked out a laugh. "What?"
"Dude, you just asked me about my day—no wonder people think we're a couple sometimes." Naomi shook her head and placed the two plates in front of her hungry looking son and confused looking best friend, returning to the table a few minutes later with her own slice of pie.
"So was work good, Momma?" Sammy asked, tucking into his pie as though he had never seen food before.
"Hm-hmm. Momma's got her new clothes into mass production so they'll be in the shops soon." Naomi smiled when her little boy's eyes lit up.
"So we can go buy Momma clothes that were made by Momma?!" The fleeting thought of how hectic Christmas morning would be if this was how he reacted to a clothing line had Naomi choking on a piece of apple
"Yeah, little man, it does." Lola smiled at Sammy who kicked his legs happily under the table and went back to scarfing down his dinner.
"SO, how was work Lola?" Naomi looked at her and Lola let out an agitated breath.
"If they don't move that skank, I will."
"Hey, language!" Naomi scolded and Lola held her hands up. "What's she done now?"
"She told everyone that I was with Karl from Editing, but I never was and never will be with that creep. So now everyone thinks I'm a slut." Lola moaned, stabbing her sweet and sour chicken bitterly with her fork.
"Aw sweetheart, would you like me to call your boss, tell him the nasty children are saying naughty things behind your back?" Naomi teased, sticking her tongue out at Lola. "How was your day, Sammy?" Naomi looked at him and he smiled with his mouth full earning himself an eyebrow raise.
"Sowwy." he mumbled around the food swallowing it before continuing, "Kylie kissed me today. Like on the lips, Momma!" he said disgustedly, "And everyone saw it! But I told her I didn't like her and she was ugly," he said with a shrug of his shoulders as Naomi and Lola both struggling to keep their laughter in.
"Well as long as she knows where she stands with you." Lola informed him with a nod, and Naomi agreed, prompting a familiar smirk from Sammy that caused Naomi's eyebrows to shoot up in shock. Like father like son, she thought and turned back to her own dinner as thoughts of Dean and her own father filled her mind.
"So I have to work until Christmas Eve at the magazine! Aren't you glad you're off now, Naomi?" Lola asked to kill the silence.
"Oh yeah—means I get to spend time with my lovely little boy." Naomi ruffled his hair, earning a glare that really was a chip off of the old block.
"When's Santa coming Momma?" Sammy asked wiping his mouth with his sleeve.
"Just a week, angel. Lola, could you take care of the dishes while I bathe this dirty little pup?" Naomi looked in her friend's direction who nodded.
"Sure, I'll clean them up and let myself out. It just so happens that Ihave a hot date tonight," Lola said with a sly grin.
"With Karl from editing?" Naomi laughed as she got up from the table and helped Sammy down from his chair.
"Very funny," Lola pouted. "No, with a nice lawyer I met downtown a few weeks ago. We're going out for a few drinks." Lola winked at Naomi who rolled her eyes. "You should get out more.. Maybe…," she added quietly, gaining a slap on the arm as Naomi passed her.
"No way. I don't need or want another guy." Naomi glared at her, then her face softened. "Call me so I know you're safe, okay?"
"Sure thing," Lola agreed, hugging Naomi and watching her walk out of the room and up the stairs with Sammy in tow.
"Come on, my little fish—stand up, I gotta get you outta there." Naomi held the towel in both hands and waited for Sammy to finally get to his feet among the bubbles and bath toys, gathering him into the towel and wrapping him up like ET. "So, Batman or Star Wars?" she asked as she began to dry him off, starting with his longish blonde locks, and finishing with his ticklish toes.
"Batman!" He all but yelled and Naomi grinned at him, taking his pajamas off of the heater and putting them on her son's warm little body, picking up his matching Batman slippers and robe, not that he would put it on later, as she let the water out of the bath and placed him on the floor, allowing him to put them on himself.
"Come on, kiddo, time for your milk and then beddy-byes." Naomi flipped the light off and watched as he walked down the stairs carefully, racing into the kitchen when he reached the bottom. I gotta find a way to burn up that energy he has. Naomi exhaled as she walked into the kitchen smiling fondly when Sammy pulled open the fridge door, and glared up at the shelf where the milk was.
"I wanna do it by myself," Sammy held his hands above his head and beamed when Naomi lifted the carton of milk from the shelve and handed it to him.
"What next, little man?" Naomi asked as she walked over the counter and he handed the carton to her to place on the counter.
"Um… cups!" his little eyes lit up when lifted him up and carried him over to the other side of the kitchen and allowed him to once again take the two cups from the cabinet along with his own little plastic cup that the milk was put into.
"Right, down we go." Naomi leant forward to put him onto the floor.
"No, Momma, I gotta say nights!" he looked at her exasperated.
"Okay, okay! Keep your underpants on." Naomi sniggered walking towards the window and placing Sammy on the counter, standing behind him when he slid onto his knees and lifted the curtain up.
"Night, Grandma Mary. Night, Grandma Izzy. Night, Grandpa John and Grandaddy Rich….and Uncle Sam!" Sammy turned to Naomi who smiled at him before he turned back to the window. "Night, Daddy. Momma, is Daddy in the stars?" He asked turning around to her, unconcealed worry in his eyes.
"Damn, I sure hope not," came the familiar rumble.
"Daddy!" Sammy's eyes lit up impossibly more, and Naomi spun around, tears shining in hers as Dean stood in the doorway, hands in his pockets.
"What, no hugs?" he asked cockily, the oh-so-familiar smirk passing over his features as he crouched down to catch Sammy as the little boy ran hell-bent-for-leather towards him the second Naomi lifted him down from the counter.
"I missed you, Daddy," Sammy whispered, snuggling tightly into Dean, who closed his eyes and breathed in deeply.
"I missed you, too," Dean smiled, his voice slightly tight.
"So did Momma—she was crying last night." Sammy said into Dean's ear. It was obviously supposed to be a whispered secret, but being quiet wasn't exactly the three-year-old's strong point.
"Really?" Dean kinked his eyebrow at his son, the movement making the gash on his head start to bleed again.
"Daddy, you got your head banged again." Sammy shook his head and tutted, making Naomi clear her throat to cover the giggle that was wanting to break out of her. "But you got the bad guy, right?" Sammy's face was suddenly filled with seriousness.
"Yeah, I got the bad guy." Dean nodded, moving his son to his hip and holding his arm out to Naomi who all but ran into him, burying her face into this neck to hide her tears from both of her boys. "Tell you what?" Dean asked as he felt Naomi's tears on his neck. "Why don't you go upstairs and put on a DVD while Momma fixes my head, and we'll come up to tuck you in when she's finished?"
"Okay, Daddy!" Sammy chirped, allowing Dean to put him on the floor before racing out of the room. "Daddy?" Sammy stopped in his tracks in the doorway.
"Yeah?"
"You wont leave again while I'm gone?" Sammy blinked, his lips set in a determined line as though he was trying not to cry in front of Dean.
"I promise I wont leave kiddo, now go pick the DVD we're gonna watch." Dean smiled at his son and watched as he turned around, still a little unsure, then walked up stairs.
"I missed you." Dean whispered as he bent his head and tried to make eye contact with her, even as she refused to meet his gaze. "Hey, come on." Dean tilted her face up and smiled gently at her. "I'm okay, I'm here in time for Christmas this time—there's no need for all this." He kissed her head and wiped her tears before kissing her on the lips. The soft but passion-filled kisses that she had been missing for the past few weeks since he'd left to hunt, somehow not making everything okay again, not taking away the bitter pain of loneliness.
"Gross!" Sammy yelled. "Daddy, stop kissing on Momma!" he scolded as he charged back into the room and pushed himself between them, glaring up at Dean with his arms crossed.
"Sorry, Sammy." Dean held his hands up and tried to hide his smile when Sammy snorted and turned to Naomi who crouched down to him.
"What is it, sunshine?" she asked, smoothing his hair that was fast becoming too long and curly away from his eyes.
"I was comin' to tell ya', don't forget my milk. And don't let Daddy kiss on you no more," he commanded and Naomi nodded once.
"Okay, baby, we'll be up soon." She grinned at him and kissed him on the nose.
"Remember, Momma—I'm the only one you're 'llowed to kiss on. Daddy's too big for kisses," Sammy said as he waved his finger in Naomi's face and cast a dirty look at his father.
"Alright, I'll remember that. Now off you go." Naomi stood up and watched her son scurry out of the room, glaring daggers at Dean as he did so. "I think you should sit down before he ends up killing you himself," Naomi giggled when he was out of earshot.
"Too big to be kissed," Dean muttered as he sat down on the table, body tensing with the effort not to show pain, opting to kick his legs and whistle appreciatively when Naomi bent down to get the icepack from the mini-fridge in the cupboard next to the garage door.
"Dean," she admonished, blushing as she walked back over to him, putting the first aid box down and handing him the icepack.
"What? I haven't seen you in weeks—I've missed you." Dean pulled her to him, his arms locking behind her back as he trailed kisses up her chest and neck.
"Dean, enough!" Naomi squeaked, as she picked up the steri-strips from the first aid box.
"Oh come on, he said nothing about me kissing you."
"Yeah he did—he said I wasn't allowed to let you kiss on me." Naomi warned and Dean looked up at her, and smirked, kissing a path to the spot behind her ear…
"Momma!" Sammy yelled again. "You was 'sposed to not let Daddy do that!" he scolded, his hands on his hips.
"Sorry, baby, but it was Daddy's fault, not mine!" Naomi tried, smiling when her son nodded in agreement and walked back up the stairs.
Naomi watched him go before turning back to Dean, carefully placing the strip over the wound on his head. "I thought you weren't coming back…you hadn't called in weeks….I thought…" Naomi trailed off, and Dean frowned, cupping her jaw in one hand.
"I'm not gonna lie to you—things went south on the hunt, and I couldn't call. By the time we got things under control, it was just as easy to drive on home than it was to take time-out for a phone call. Hell, I just wanted to be home—so it looks like you're stuck with me, baby." He smiled at her again when she nodded.
"How bad are they?" she dared to ask, not really wanting to know the answer but needing to know how to prepare herself.
"look worse than they are." Dean's gaze fell to the floor. Then the answer to my question is, "incredibly bad."
"Well, that's your head done." Naomi looked for a slight change in subject, before sneaking a kiss to Dean's lips, a soft, lazy slow kiss that explained to him everything she wanted to say but couldn't.
"You go and settle in with Sergeant No-Kisses, and I'll make the milk," Dean whispered, resting his forehead against hers wearily, taking a moment to just breathe her in.
"Sure. Remember—not too hot or it will take ages to cool and it'll be forever before we get him to bed. You know, you look exhausted…I think you should go to bed early." Naomi winked at him, straightening up before biting her lower lip as she played with the lapels of his leather jacket.
"You gonna tuck me in?" he said with a playful grin, quirking his eyebrow at her pointedly.
"That depends—did you damage my car in any way, shape or form?" Naomi asked seriously and Dean shook his head.
"No damage to your baby, just me. Scout's honor." He said, holding his hand up..
"Then I'll consider it." Naomi leaned away from him only to be pulled back against his solid chest as his lips claimed hers, sealing the promise of later. "Alright, I need to get upstairs before Sammy has a meltdown," she murmured, pushing him away with a sigh of regret.
"Yeah, well you'd better come and tuck me in tonight, or I'll have a meltdown," Dean told her with a grin as he reluctantly let her go. "We'll continue this…discussion…later.." Dean winked at her as he stepped away and slipped out of his jacket with great difficulty, hanging it over the chair and walking over to the counter where the previously forgotten milk and cups sat.
Naomi walked out of the kitchen, a genuine smile on her face for the first time since Dean had left and smiled fondly at their car keys lying next to each other on the table. Lola must have brought them from the kitchen, she thought as she passed the table at the bottom of the stairs. They swapped cars, simply because they couldn't be with each other all the time. She would drive his and think of him, and he would drive hers and think of her. Simple, easy solution that their little boy had thought up. Not deliberately, of course, but he was to blame for the car swapping.
"Sammy," Naomi called as she walked into his room, the sudden chill hitting her and making her shiver. "Sammy, babe, what have I told you about the windows?" Naomi asked as she walked into his room, her brow furrowing with confusion at his empty bed. Turning on her heel, she walked into the bathroom and saw no sign of her three-year-old there. "Sammy?" she called again, screaming when realization dawned on her and she raced back into the bedroom. Doubling over, her hand clutched over her mouth in shock as she felt Dean's arms wrap around her.
"Mimi!?" Dean pulled her to him, worry etched on his face, holding her tightly as she sobbed against him, her fist clutching in his shirt. "Naomi what's wrong? Where's Sammy?!" he asked her, eyes widening when the chill suddenly hit him too. His gaze drifted ominously toward the windowsill, and as he held her close, Naomi knew he was staring at the same thing she was: the yellow residue that was strewn across it. Sulphur.
Review? Please... oh and you can't kill me if you do you wont get the next chapter.
K
xox