Inspired/Prompt given by: the-hound-of-sherlock's post on Tumblr
Dedicated to my pal Mal: wibsies on Tumblr.
A/N: I decided to choose a Destiel prompt specifically to spite for the troll who left a "review" on my fic "The Great Ship Debate." I hadn't planned on sharing any pairing centered stories until now ("The Great Ship Debate" which was supposed to be a gag fic and not a pairing fic), but I don't react well to that kind of behavior so there you go.
Dean will be slightly different from Canon!verse Dean due to being raised by Mary instead. Unless I can think of something brilliant, Adam won't be part of the story as Mary survives instead of John. I open to ideas though. The same applies to other pairings.
Unbeta'd (looking for a beta).
Prologue: July 24th, 1983
It's getting late, but the sun is just now slipping beyond the horizon, and Mary is tucking her oldest son Sam into bed for the night. Sam has turned four this year and his new baby brother will be having his first birthday in January. Her smile falters as she realizes she won't be around to see it. Mary shakes the thought away quickly and brushes her hand along Sam's cheek before placing a gentle kiss to his forehead. Sam must have been tired if he's already fallen fast asleep.
Just as Mary stands in the doorway and ready to turn out the light, Sam bolts upright in his bed looking petrified and inhaling a loud and heavy gasp. Mary rushes back to her son's side the second she saw tears running down the same cheeks she touched not seconds ago, "Honey? What's wrong baby?"
Sam clutches his mother tightly and makes no effort to hide his sobbing, "Don't go."
Mary tenses unsure how to respond. So many questions are running through her head. She cradles the young boy and tries to comfort and calm him down before asking about the sudden outburst. When she looks down at Sam, she sees he's already fast asleep. Then, thinking to herself, she wonders if he had been asleep the whole time. Maybe he was having a nightmare, or maybe…
"Mary!"
Turning her head in the direction of her husband's shouting, Mary carefully tucks Sam back under his covers. She takes one last look at her son before she turns out the light and exits the room.
Mary's clearly annoyed with her husband for yelling so loudly when she finally managed to put both their boys to bed, but her anger vanishes when she sees John's face.
She can't pin it down to a single emotion, but she can see fear and pain in his eyes. And that's when her eyes catch the book on the table in front of him. Her journal.
It was a stupid thing to do, she knows it was, but something deep down told her she couldn't let her father's knowledge just disappear. Mary left the hunting business when she decided to start her own family, but she full well knew that didn't mean the monsters were going to stop too. Other hunters could use the knowledge, and might save her family somewhere down the line after she's gone.
"What the hell is this, Mary?" John's voice is low and a near whisper if he's afraid of the answer.
When Mary doesn't answer, he pushes the book in her direction and repeats the question with tears threatening to break free from his eyes, "Mary, please. What is this?"
Still silence, and John pushes the book further away from himself and looks away from his wife, "Jesus. When were you going to tell me?" He looks back at Mary, the hurt written all over his face, "According to… this, you're-"
Mary sees the realization hit John hard. He stares at her in disbelief before he can find voice again, "You weren't going to tell me."
It wasn't a question, but Mary finds herself answering anyway, "No."
John looks down at the table in front of him and Mary knows he's doing everything he can to keep from yelling. Even if this time he has every right to be.
Mary isn't sure how much time passes, but she takes notice of the last traces of the sunset. Probably the last one she will ever see. She doesn't know she's smiling at the sight until it's wiped clear from her face when John finally speaks up.
"Take it back," John is almost whispering and Mary feels like she's imagining it, so she chooses to ignore it.
John flies out of his chair and around to Mary, pulling her into his arms, "Undo it. Take it back." He's shaking, his voice sounds so broken and it kills Mary to know she's the cause of it. But it's better this way. She's surprised that John seems to believe everything instead of pushing it all off as nonsense. Though, it would have been easier and far less complicated to think she's insane. Pulling John closer, Mary ducks her head against his shoulder trying to savor every last moment she may have with her husband.
"There's still time," John sounds desperate and to Mary's dismay John is persistent at letting the matter go. "My time was up a long time ago, Mary."
Everything from that horrible day comes flooding back. All the things she desperately tried to hide away are back and scratching at the surface. Mary wrote the whole ordeal in the journal to push those terrible memories from her mind, and it worked perfectly until now.
"You have to let me go." Mary is gripping John's shirt tightly as she sobs into his shoulder and John voice tries to soothe her.
"I can't! I don't want to lose you!" She's choking out the words as she continues crying.
John brushes the wavy, blond locks from her face and holds her chin up to meet his face, "It's going to happen either way. You know that. But this is hell, Mary. Do you have any idea what that thought alone will do to me?"
She knows she's being selfish. Mary can't bear the thought of going on and living the rest of her life without John, and in doing so is putting that weight on him instead. The worst part is she knows he's right, but can she really go on without John? She's already lost so much, and she's not sure she can survive losing what little she has left.
"Mom?"
Mary and John break away enough to turn and looks at the young boy. "Mom, you okay?"
After rubbing her eyes, Mary sees concern evident in her son's. She kneels down and smiles at Sam, "Yes, Sam." The tears haven't stopped when she turns to face John and wraps her arms around her oldest. "Mommy's fine, sweetheart."
John nods and Mary looks back to Sam as she stands up, "Now hug your dad goodnight and get back in bed."
Sam walks over to John and stares at him a moment before wrapping his arms around his father's legs. John laughs and bends down and scoops. Sam up in his arms and up into the air. "Come on, Sammy. Let's get you to bed sport."
Mary smiles sadly as she watches Sam squirm in John's grip and protests to be put down while John carries him back up to his room. She sit down at the table with the journal in front of her and glances over at a photo John must have just framed recently. Something twists in her gut at the idea of that being the only photo of the whole family will have together. Then she sees one of her porcelain angels standing right beside the picture frame.
Mary's not sure if she started crying again or if she never stopped, but she opens the journal to the section on demons. She stares at it for a few minutes, and she closes her eyes and puts her elbows on the table crossing her fingers together.
She prays.
A/Ns: Sam and Dean's birthdays are still the same, I just switched the years they were born. So Dean was born January 24th, 1983 and Sam was born May 2nd, 1979. I know I was supposed to swap their ages, but I thought changing the year they were born would be enough.