This book contains:
1.) A female lead character who strongly dislikes (because hate is a strong word) when people label her as 'short bitch', 'weak bitch', or 'snobby, unappreciative bitch', (because she, of all people, knows that you have to appreciate the little things) but doesn't mind if people call her 'rude bitch', 'psycho bitch', or just plain ol' 'bitch'.
Because, let's face it, she's a bitch. A funny bitch, yes, but still a bitch. A rude, uncaring bitch. In fact, most of the people she's slept with would probably tell you she's demonic. Especially Doug Nethers. Oh, Doug Nethers got real close and personal, if you know what I mean.
But, that's beside the point.
She's also sarcastic, cruel, and bad at math.
Whatever, man. Screw math. Math can go suck a penis. Math is stupid and irrelevant at this moment in time.
Keep in mind, though, that she does have a heart underneath all her flaws. A shriveled, cold, black heart.
Only certain things provoke said heart, and those certain things are cute dogs, babies hiccuping, and little kids swearing. Oh, and her brothers. Her brothers definitely play a big role in keeping her black heart beating, literally.
She will probably (most likely) disappoint you many times throughout this book, maybe even make you hate her and stop reading.
She has practically a billion flaws, which are mostly her attitude and her aggression, but I think that those many flaws are what make her more realistic, more human. Well, to me at least. That might just make her uninteresting to you.
2.) Swears. Lots and lots. Probably more than any normal person would use or, at the most, be comfortable with.
3.) Hilarity. Well, occasionally, anyway. I can't make this whole book hilarious, I'd be disrespecting the series that made this book possible. I have to add some character development in.
4.) Corny Jokes/Dad Jokes. Such as:
Person 1: "I'm bored."
Person 2: "Hi bored, I'm *insert name here*
Or,
"Jamaican me crazy!"/ "European your pants!"
Be warned.
5.) Feels. Lots of feels and sadness because that's what the show gives me, so that's what I work with. Sorry, dudes. A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.
Enjoy the story!
Lawrence, Kansas
22 years ago
A woman, Mary Winchester, wearing a white nightgown, carries a small child, her two-year-old daughter, Olivia, into a dark room. Her four-year-old son Dean walks in behind her. Olivia is wearing a small Mickey Mouse footed-onesie, while Dean is wearing a plaid pajama shirt and pants.
"Come on, let's say goodnight to your brother."
Mary turns on the lights: it's the nursery of a baby, Sam, who is lying in his crib and looking over at Mary, Olive, and Dean. Mary sets Olive down and Olive leans over the side of the crib, kissing Sam on the forehead. "Nah-nigh', Sammy." Though it sounded more like 'Nah-nigh', Sabby', because of Olive's quiet, nasally voice. Dean repeats his younger sisters' actions, then says; "'Night, Sammy."
Mary leans over the crib. "Goodnight, love." She brushes Sam's hair back and kisses his forehead.
John walks into the room. "Hey Olive! Hey Dean!"
"Daddy!" Olive and Dean shout simultaneously. He pulls them in for a hug, then picks Dean up.
"So, d'ya think Sammy's ready to throw a football yet?" John asks, smiling as Dean shakes his head.
"No, daddy." Dean giggles.
Olive looks over at her mother as she approaches and raises her arms out to her. Mary picks Olive up. "Say goodnight to daddy and Dean, sweetheart." She tells Olive.
Olive reaches over and wraps her arms around her fathers' neck and plants a sloppy kiss on his cheek. "Nah nigh', daddy." Olive whispers into his cheek. John smiles and kisses the top of her head, before she lets go. "Nah nigh', De." She repeats the actions with Dean and then lays black into her mothers' side.
"Night, Olly." Dean says back.
Mary looks down at Olive as she lays her head on her shoulder and sticks her thumb in her mouth. Mary makes a mental note to check when to break her out of that. When she asked Dean's dentist about it, he had said around three or four, but he also said all children are different. She looks back up at John and asks, "You got 'im?"
"Got 'im." John hugs Dean closer. "Sweet dreams, Sam. Night, Olive."
John carries Dean out of the nursery, sending one last smile back at his wife who turns off the light and carries Olive to the small room that was actually meant to be an office, but was big enough to hold a crib, dresser, toy bin and rocking chair, so it became a bedroom.
Mary lays Olive down and whispers, "Goodnight, snowflake." kissing Olive's forehead. Mary makes another mental note to see when Olive was old enough for a 'big girl bed.' She stands to her full height, pulls up the side of the contraption, and walks over to the door, looking back at her child one last time before shutting off the light and walking out of the room.
Lights flicker on a baby monitor sitting on a nightstand next to a photo of Mary and John. Strange noises come through the monitor. Mary, asleep in bed, stirs. She turns on the light on the nightstand. "John?" Mary turns: she's alone. She gets up.
She walks down the hall to Sam's nursery. John, or more accurately, his silhouette, stands over Sam's crib. "John? Is he hungry?"
Silhouette-John turns his head. "Shhh."
"All right." Mary heads back down the hallway. The light by the stairs is flickering. She frowns and goes to tap at it till the light steadies. "Hm."
More flickering light is coming from downstairs: she investigates. A war movie is on TV and John fell asleep watching it. If John's right here, Mary realizes, then the man upstairs isn't John and is dangerous. She runs back upstairs. "Sammy! Sammy!" Mary enters Sam's nursery and stops short.
Upstairs, Mary screams and John wakes up. "Mary?" John scrambles from the chair. "Mary!" John runs upstairs. He bursts through the closed door of the nursery. "Mary."
The room is quiet and appears empty except for Sam awake in his crib and John. John glances around and pushes down the side of Sam's crib. "Hey, Sammy. You okay?"
Something dark drips next to Sam's head. John touches it. Two more drops land on the back of his hand. Is that...blood? John looks up. Mary is sprawled across the ceiling, the stomach of her nightgown red with blood, staring at John and struggling to pull in breaths. John collapses onto the floor, staring at Mary. "No! Mary!" Mary bursts into flame. The fire spreads over the ceiling. John stares, frozen. Sam bursts into tears, screaming and crying.
After hearing the scream, Dean ran from his room and into his sisters', who was sitting awake and staring at the doorway, to check if she was okay. He pushed the side of the crib/bed down and helped her out, grasping her small hand in his. Together, they walk down the hall to investigate. "Mommy! Daddy!" They both cry out, looking from their father in the ground to their mother on the ceiling in fear.
John, once again aware that he's not alone, gets up and scoops Sam out of his crib and rushes out of the room. He shoves Sam at Dean, yelling, "Take your brother and sister outside as fast as you can and don't look back! Now, Dean, go!"
Dean turns and runs, Olive's hand still held in a death grip in his own. John turns back to the nursery. "Mary!" Mary can barely be seen underneath the flames. "No!"
Dean runs outside, holding Sam. He squeezes Olive's hand a little tighter. "It's okay. I got you guys." He reassures. Dean turns to look up at Sam's window, watching the red and yellow flames collide. Olive looks at him, at Sammy, then up at the window and bursts into tears, wanting one of her parents to pick her up and hug her close.
John runs outside, scoops up Dean and Olive, Sam still in Dean's arms, and whisks them away. "I gotcha." Fire explodes out of Sam's nursery window.
Across the street from the house, John, Olive, and Dean sit on the hood of the Impala, an exhausted Sam cradled in John's arms. Olive had stopped crying a little while back, and was now leaning into her fathers' side, tired and confused. Dean is leaning against his other side, staring as the firefighters, who had briefly examined them all, packed up their equipment. John looks up at the remnants of the fire, a sad expression on his face. After a while, he gets off the hood and gets a sleeping Sam in his car seat, a droopy eyed Olive in hers, then drives off, never to be seen at that house again.
"Daddy?" Olive asks, her big, bright green eyes (which were very similar to both Mary and Dean's) staring at John's back as he sat, hunched over his journal.
He turns, looking at her through pain-filled, tired brown eyes and asks: "What is it, Liv?"
"Where Mommy go?" Her quiet voice barely reaches him, but when it does, he grimaces. Olive tilts her head and stares at him, concern blanketing her delicate features.
"She left, Olive." He mutters, turning back to his 'studies'.
"But where she go, Daddy?"
"Away." He turns back around, staring at her with tear-filled eyes.
"Why?"
"Because she did." His voice is strained.
"But wh-"
"Because she DIED, OLIVIA! SHE'S DEAD AND SHE'S NOT COMING BACK!" He snaps, wincing as his words register in his own brain. He expects Olive to cry and run off, in search of Dean, but she looks to him with curious eyes.
"Mommy...dead?" She asks, not quite understanding what that word actually meant.
He simply nods, his head in his hands. "Mary's dead, and she ain't coming back. Not now, not ever." His voice breaks and he starts to cry.
"Daddy, you's 'kay?" Olive steps a few feet closer to her father and places a small, yet comforting, hand on his bicep.
He looks up at her, swallowing the lump in his throat, and nods. "Yeah, sprite, I'm okay." His voice shakes.
"No, you's cwyin'." She shakes her head, the short, blonde curls shaking along with it. "You's on'y cwy when you's sad." She walks in front of him. "'Mere Daddy, me hugs you." She reaches up to him and he picks her up, pulling her close as she wraps her arms around his neck. "You's no cwy Daddy, p'ease?" She pulls back and looks at his face.
He nods, a small, yet sad, smile lighting up his face as his tears dry. She nods once and lays her head on his shoulder again, fisting the back of his shirt with one hand and sucking her thumb in the other one.
They sat there for a few minutes, John rubbing Olive's back while Olive sucked her thumb with closed eyes, until Dean walked in, looking at them with curious green eyes. John recalled a time that Mary had put Dean down for a nap and said; "You know, John, one day, those eyes'll grow, and they'll swallow him whole.", but quickly pushed it aside.
"What is it, little man?" He asks. Dean simply walks forward and holds his arms out, asking for Olive so he can carry her to one of the small cots that the motel had provided for her and Sam. John shakes his head. "Nah, kiddo. I got 'er." He stands from his chair follows Dean out of the kitchenette, down the hallway and through a door that lead to a room with one bed (in which Dean slept), two cots (that were pushed against the wall), and tiny loveseat that John slept on (though he had to curl into a ball to fit on it).
John places Olive down in her cot, checked on Sam, and then tucked Dean in, before stepping out of the room and walking back to the kitchenette. He slumped into the chair and placed his head in his hands, forcing the tears back.
No, he thought to himself, I will not think of Mary. I will not think of Mary, or her blonde hair, or her soft voice, or her smile, I will not. Oh, who am I kidding? Don't let this be real. Please, don't let this be real.