Title: Remembrances

Author: Margaret

Disclaimer: John, Mary, and Dean all belong to Kripke, not to me. I just like playing with the characters.


First Laugh

Mary had had an amazing laugh. It'd been the first thing he'd noticed about her, back then. Rich, full, open. He'd heard the laughter ring out full-peal in the middle of a park, a month and a half after he'd come back from 'Nam. He'd thought, before then, that he'd lost the ability to appreciate innocent joy. He'd thought wrong. She'd caught his eye then, full of light and laughter. But he hadn't approached her that day. It had been too early, and he hadn't been willing to risk losing the dream he'd come up with to the real woman.

First Dance

She'd loved to dance. It was how they actually met, face to face. His friends had dragged him to the club, and though he'd hated the music, when he spotted her at a table, he'd remembered her laugh, and asked her to join him on the floor.

She'd come alive, even more so than what he'd glimpsed at the park. Blue eyes glittering, blonde hair gleaming with the lights, skirt swirling as she moved. He felt awkward dancing with someone so vibrant, but it didn't stop him.

It took him half the evening to remember to ask for her name.

First Date

They'd danced for most of that first evening without conversation. So of course, it was incredibly awkward fishing for something to talk to her about the following Friday, over dinner at the local grill. It wasn't exactly comforting that she seemed to have the same problem. He'd been out of the whole dating thing for far too long, and the girls he had taken out before had never had trouble talking without expecting him to join in.

It was pure luck she liked the same bands he did. They started on music, and talked until the waitress kicked them out.

First Kiss

And this memory always made him smile, because she kissed him first. Midway through their second date, she grabbed his arm as they were walking down a flight of steps, turned him, and from her perch a step above, leaned down for a lengthy kiss in front of the museum.

Then she started forward again, as if she hadn't just shocked the heck out of him. When she noticed that he hadn't moved, she flashed a sly grin over her shoulder. "Just had to get the first one done with before either of us started thinking too much about it."

First Fight

The day John knew he was in love with her, it was in the middle of their first major argument. He'd said something to piss her off, then refused to back down when he'd seen that he'd gone too far. And she let him have it, reeling off a list of insults to his mental competence that would have made his drill sergeant blush, then take notes. Once she blew off steam, she reduced his position to so many stupid ideas sweetly and succinctly, then left him standing there, awestruck.

A woman like that, how could he help loving her?

First Dream

He knew it was serious when he started dreaming about her.

Not the ones you're thinking about, though he had those too. A lot of them, he was a healthy young man and she was an incredibly beautiful woman.

No, the dreams he meant were the ones where they were both fully clad, and he didn't mind it at all. They'd talk, do things together, be a couple, ordinary life.

He dreamed about her pregnant, with a simple gold ring on her left hand. And all he felt when he woke up was regret that the dream wasn't real.

Yet.

First Night

The first night they slept together, that's all they did.

No one believed it of them, of course, not even Mary's parents, who weren't sure if they should be supportive of their daughter's happiness, or try to get her away from John by whatever means necessary, no matter that they were engaged now.

But he'd spent twelve hours at the garage, working non-stop the entire day. Mary'd finished moving their things into the house herself, and by the time they'd finished eating their dinner, they were too tired to do anything.

The second night? That was a whole 'nother story.

First Tears

He didn't cry when she agreed to marry him. He was emotional as hell, because she was everything he wanted in a woman and a lot more that he'd never dreamt of, but he wasn't about to cry then. And he thought he wouldn't cry on their wedding day, either. What was there to cry about?

Turns out that Mary standing there across from him at the altar, grinning and crying at the same time, was a pretty good motivator as far as the tears went. But he'd blame it on the smell off of her bouquet if anyone asked.

First Anniversary

He hadn't planned on making a big deal about it. He'd make dinner, get her some of her favorite flowers, take her out dancing for a bit, then spend most of the night occupied with a different kind of dancing.

But she woke up that morning sick as a dog, not ready to do anything but sleep or sneeze. He pushed back the fancy dinner for a time when she'd be able to appreciate it, made up a batch of his grandmother's chicken soup, and spent the night fetching her tissues and cough medicine.

He still got her the flowers.

First Child

He was so tiny. It was the first thing he thought to say when he saw Dean. Mary just rolled her eyes and said that he'd been plenty big enough, coming out, for her sake. Then she started grinning again, and leaned down to kiss her son's wrinkled forehead. Dean lay trustingly in her arms, as tired from being born as she was from giving birth to him. She only let John hold him when she was too tired to stay awake anymore.

He looked even smaller in John's arms, waking up briefly to blink up at his father's face.


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