From the very beginning they all knew how it would end. They all knew who would end it. Sam and Dean Winchester were the fated vessels of the apocalypse. So naturally when John and Mary were born there was an appropriate amount of trepidation.

John and Mary brought Dean Winchester into the world on a frosty morning in January. Mary sung 'Hey Jude' and John whistled 'As Time Goes By'. Things went well for the Winchesters for a few years. Everyone but them knew it wouldn't last. Mary and John had already decided on the name Sam for their newest family member by the time they went for the first ultrasound.

John laughed the whole way home. It was a simple fix, really. They'd still be bringing little Sam home in a few months. It would just be a Samantha instead of a Samuel.

Most of the angels didn't think on it much either. Sam Winchester would be born and be Lucifer's true vessel. Everything was still going according to plan. No one gave it much thought at the time, neither the angels in Heaven or the demons in Hell giving it any true merit. It seemed inconsequential that Sam Winchester was born a girl. It didn't change the fact that she was Lucifer's vessel, wouldn't change the night in the nursery when Mary died, wouldn't change John from raising her and Dean as hunters.

It changed a great deal else.


"You want to say goodnight to Sammy?" Mary asked. Dean nodded and Mary stooped down so that he could hop down to clamber onto the crib. Dean whispered a hushed goodnight and pressed a gentle kiss to Sammy's forehead. Mary allowed herself to bask in the moment, peaceful and mundane. This was all she ever wanted for herself and for her children.

"Hey, buddy." John stood at the edge of the room, his body hovering in the doorway. One foot out the door, Mary mused.

"Daddy!" Dean jumped gracelessly from his perch on the side of Sam's crib to run into John's waiting arms. The interaction brought a genuine smile to her face as she watched her boys.

"What do you think? Sammy big enough to toss around the football with us yet?" John asked, bouncing Dean slightly in his arms.

"No!" Dean laughed while Mary shook her head and made to squeeze out the doorway past her husband.

"You got him?"

John nodded, patting Dean on the head, and Mary left. She heard John mutter a quiet, "Sweet dreams, Sammy" before he turned off the lights in the nursery. She could make out Sam cooing quietly from her crib. Mary busied herself with tidying the kitchen and packing up leftovers from dinner while John got Dean to bed.

Growing up Mary had certainly never pictured herself as a doting wife and mother, but this was her life now. She had chosen it for herself. When she thought of Sam and Dean she couldn't regret it. She wanted out of the life her father had raised her in and her wish had been granted, albeit with great sacrifice. Dean would grow up worrying about grades and girls and making the football team, not life and death and monsters. Mary would worry about the length of Sam's dresses instead of the risk of a hunt. She was looking forward to every minute of watching her babies grow up.

The stairs creaked and Mary tensed on instinct. When she turned to see John, the tension eased from her shoulders. She really had to kill that habit. No more monsters, no more bumps in the night. She was safe, and her family was safe. "Yes John?"

"Dean's asking for you." John told her, and Mary shook her head.

"And here I thought you said you 'got him'." She mocked sweeping past him and up to Dean's room. Dean was sitting quietly, tucked under sheets and blankets, staring straight up at the ceiling until he heard her footsteps.

"Mom!" He sat up excitedly.

"Don't get up on my account," she said. Mary settled onto the side of his bed. "Daddy says you wanted to see me?"

He nodded, "I want a kiss goodnight."

` Mary sighed out a laugh and leaned forward to kiss his cheek, then his forehead, and lastly his nose. "Good?" she asked him, and Dean nodded again. A crooked smile with gaps from where he'd begun to lose baby teeth beamed up at her. Mary ruffled his sandy hair as she got up and made her way out of the room. "Angels are watching over you." A reminder, a promise. Mary left her son's room.

Static on the baby monitor woke her up later that night. "John?" Mary's eyes were heavy with sleep and she would rather stay put in the warm bed. Turning over she saw John wasn't in bed and let out a heavy sigh as the monitor sparked with static and little whines of distress again. Sammy was probably hungry and John was probably working her up. She shuffled out of bed and down the hall to Sam's room, yawning as she dragged her bare feet across the hard, cold floor. It was a stark contrast to her warm bed and Mary wished briefly that she'd put slippers on. Mary rubbed at her bleary eyes as she reached the open door to the nursery, a silhouette of deep black holding her little girl. "John? Is she hungry?"

He shushed her, holding Sammy close. She seemed quiet, so Mary hummed before leaving. She was about ready to head back to bed when she noticed a light flickering over by the stairs. She frowned, walking over and tapping it until it evened out. That was odd. There was noise from downstairs, too. Staticy voices, probably from the TV. John must have been watching it when Sammy woke up. Mary walked down the stairs with a mind to turn it off.

Then her heart stopped at the sight of her husband, snoring in his chair, a bottle at his feet.

"Oh, my God." Sam. Mary ran up the stairs calling out, "Sammy!" She ran right into the nursery. Yellow eyes met blue, and Mary screamed.

The angels watched.


AN: Not dead. I'm officially putting my other 2 stories on hiatus. It's been a CRAZY year, I moved twice, and have three jobs now. So, yeah. That happened. I also got an Ao3 account. I'll be posting my drafts here first, then putting up my finals over there I think. We'll see.

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