The next episode of Family is Where the Heart is will be out soon, just as I finish another short story I am currently writing. This came to me, suddenly, and thought I would give it a try.
Hardest Choices for the Ones we Love
The cold hair blew her brown hair across her face as Sarah stood in the parking lot, the Colt in her hands. Sarah turned the wheel, and looked at the bullets inside. This was the only way, the best thing she knew she could do for her family, but most importantly, her dad. It had to be this way. Sarah wanted her dad to be happy, and to make sure of that, he needed what he always wanted.
"You realize if you do this, you might never be born," Cas, the angel, reminded the eleven-year-old girl.
Sarah opened the one eye she had shut, to look inside the Colt, and looked up at the angel. "Yeah, well, what I want, isn't important," she said. "I care about what Dad and Uncle Sam wants, or needs, actually."
Sarah closed the wheel and turned it, taking a deep breath in. "Okay," she nodded. "I'm ready."
Cas glanced over at the door of the motel room, the Winchesters were staying in. Dean would be pissed if he knew what the two of them were doing. Finally, he asked, "You're positive?"
She nodded, once.
The angel placed two fingers on her forehead. In a quick instant, Sarah was zapped elsewhere. When she opened her eyes, Sarah looked around. The pre teen kid wasn't standing in the parking lot, any longer. Now, she stood in the center of a hallway, she recognized as the house they visited, her first year of hunting. The childhood home of her dad's.
Pictures lined the walls of a young John and Mary Winchester, along with baby pictures of Sam and Dean. There was even a recent T-ball picture of Dean, holding a bat, dressed in his uniform. However, Sarah didn't have time to stop and gaze at pictures. She had work to do.
Sarah dashed down the hallway, to her uncle's nursery, running inside. She stopped in her tracks, quickly, for standing right there, beside the crib, was a demon Sarah knew, oh so well.
"Hey, Azazel," she nodded at the demon's backside. Azazel turned around, his eyes flashing yellow. A look of pure surprise overtook his gaze. "Eat shit and die, you son of a bitch." Sarah pulled the trigger and before Azazal could disappear into thin air, the bullet connected with the side of his head.
The sudden sound of a gunshot made little Sammy cry out in his crib, scaring the tiny person.
Light flashed, x-raying the demon's bones from inside and cast out light from his eyes and mouth. Azazel, slowly, dropped to his knees, holding onto the crib, before falling backwards, dead.
A second later, Mary came barging in. "Sammy!" she exclaimed, worried and scared for her baby boy. She stopped in the doorway to see a stranger standing there, holding a gun towards the crib. "Who...?" Mary caught sight of the dark form of the demon on the floor. "Who are you?" she demanded of Sarah.
Sarah, at last, lowered the gun and turned around. "It's not important. What's important is that your family is safe." Turning back around, Sarah walked over and knelt beside the body, taking a hold of his wrist. Good, no cut. She checked the other wrist, just to be sure.
"I got here just in time, so the demon wasn't able to give Sammy any of its blood," Sarah told Mary.
"What are you...?" Mary didn't understand anything Sarah was talking about. She rushed over and lifted Sam from his crib, crading the crying infant in her arms, close to her chest. Mary looked up at Sarah, still waiting for an explanation.
Sarah, slowly, stood to her feet. It looked like the pre teen wasn't getting off, that easily. "Ten years ago, tonight, you made a deal to save your husband," Sarah explained.
"How do y...?" Mary started to ask.
"Doesn't matter. What matters is, you're not dead, Sam doesn't have demon blood, your husband won't become a hunter, led by vengeance and anger, your sons won't be raised to be hunters, and thus will have a normal, apple pie life."
Mary stared at the pre teen, in disbelief.
"Look, I know it sounds crazy, but it's true, I swear. You and John, work things out. Go to marriage counseling or something. Keep Dean in baseball and Sam in soccer, and raise your boys in the life, opposite how your parents raised you, just like you wanted. Please, Mary, I'm begging you." Tears were now filling up in her eyes, and one drifted down her cheek.
Mary could tell Sarah really meant it. There was just that feeling, inside of her. "I will."
Suddenly, a small voice interrupted them. "Mommy?"
Sarah turned to see a miniature version of her dad, at four years old, standing right outside the door.
"It's alright, Dean. Go back to bed," Mary told him.
"Who is that, Mommy? Is she here to hurt Sammy?" he asked. It reminded Sarah of herself when she was also that age.
"No, sweetie. Now, go back to bed. I will come tuck you back in, in a minute."
It was quite a sight to experience, being in the same room as her dad, but older than him. Turning around, Sarah made her way over to him, sliding the Colt into the waistline of her jeans, tossing her over shirt over it and knelt down to Dean's level.
"You won't understand this, Da...Dean. You are the most special person in my life, the one who taught me, everything. You're my hero and the bravest I know, even when you're really not. You mean the most to me and I couldn't think of any way to express just how thankful I am, other than, giving you what I know you always wanted, your mom and your dad, both alive. Even if that means I can't be born."
Dean stared at Sarah, confused. "I'm a hero?" he asked, in awe. "Like Batman?"
Sarah couldn't help smile. "Better than Batman," she told him. She then, pulled the boy in and wrapped her arms around him, holding her dad, tight. "I love you, so much."
"Hey," Mary grabbed Sarah's attention, "you're...fading."
Sarah let go and stood up, facing the woman. "Take care of them," she told her.
"I will." At Mary's promise, Sarah vanished.
Dean asked, once more, "Who was that, Mommy?"
Mary stared at where Sarah had vanished. The woman knew from the pre teen's words, that, that had to have been her grandchild, somewhere from the future. Or was she? Did that really happen? Was Mary really going to die, and John and her boys become hunters to avenge her?
Finally, Mary snapped out of it and led her oldest son back to bed. "Good night, my little angel. Sweet dreams." Mary kissed Dean on the forehead, holding back the front of his blond hair. After singing a chorus of Hey, Jude, Dean fell back to sleep. "Angels are watching over you."
Not wanting to explain to John about the dead body, she got rid of it, herself, which was a little of a challenge. Not saying life was smooth sailing afterwards, but, at least, the family was whole and the boys had what they always needed.
Castiel looked in on the family. The angel couldn't believe the huge sacrifice Sarah had made. Guess, it was just the kind of love and devotion, the kid really had for her family.