AN: This story takes place toward the end of Season 5 Episode 13 "The Song Remains the Same." The biggest spoilers are probably for that episode and Season 4 Episode 3 "In the Beginning." There could be spoilers up until 5x13, but probably not after that. Also, Mary and John will probably be really out of character because two episodes isn't enough for me to feel like I really know the character and John before the fire is different from after.
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.
Lawrence, Kansas, 1978
"He's home…safe and sound," Michael said, turning toward Dean, " Your turn. I'll see you soon."
Dean flinched slightly as Michael raised his hand to Dean's head, intending to zap him back to the future. The corner of Michael's lip turned up as though he'd had an amusing thought.
"What?" Dean grunted in suspicion as Michael's hand continued to hover between them.
"You really think you can change all this? Overcome destiny?" Michael asked patronizingly. He continued staring into Dean's eyes, making Dean distinctly uncomfortable, before titling his head slightly to the left, "Alright. I'll let you stay here. Try to protect your family from its destiny. When you're ready to go home, when you realize how futile this is, call me. Say yes."
Dean's eyes widened as Michael disappeared. He was alone, trapped in '78 with his oblivious parents. Dean hated being alone. He wasn't good at it, never had been. But he might be able to save his parents, save his family, and that was what mattered. First, though, he had to see if Cas was still there. Fighting "destiny" would be a hell of a lot easier with an angel on his side.
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John sat up slowly, looking around the unfamiliar house. Partially destroyed walls and furniture surrounded him like a particularly angry someone had taken a sledgehammer to the place. With the way his head was throbbing, John was half convinced he'd been out drinking at a buddy's house. He hadn't done that in months, though, and he knew his friends' houses. They were adults now; they wouldn't be partying at an abandoned house like teenagers.
A distinctly feminine groan had him looking around frantically. "Mary?" He asked, searching for his wife.
"John?" Mary asked, similarly bewildered. Recognition flashed in her eyes as she surveyed their location and her mouth dropped open in surprise. She knew where they were.
"Where are we? What happened?" John asked warily. He really didn't like not knowing what was going on, especially not if he wife was there. He'd hate to think something bad had happened to them and he couldn't remember enough to help her through it.
Mary hesitated. She opened her mouth to respond a few times, but stopped before she said anything. Finally, she settled for, "My family owned this place. I haven't been here in years. I never thought I'd be back here."
So Mary didn't know why they were here, either. It was weird, though. Why would they be at an old family property? Why was it abandoned? Why didn't Mary ever want to come back? And why did it feel like someone else should be there?
"What happened to this place?" John asked, breaking away from his thoughts as he surveyed the destroyed room again. Mary looked around, still looked baffled as she shrugged helplessly. It felt like the memories were just out of reach, like if he concentrated hard enough he could find the answers. Concentrating was making the throbbing in his head increase, though.
Mary was looking more uncomfortable the longer they stayed in the abandoned house. There would be time to figure everything out later. For now, he had a wife to take care of. John stood up, head spinning as he did so, then helped Mary to her feet. As he led Mary to the door, John noted the faded, reddish brown symbols on some of the doors. Unease coiled in his stomach and John forced himself not to question Mary. She couldn't know anything about the weird symbols Even if she did, they must be the reason she didn't want to come back here.
The Impala sat outside the house, prompting John to search for his keys. That was a hint, probably a good sign. They had driven to the house themselves, so someone hadn't abducted them. They probably hadn't been drugged. So why the hell couldn't they remember what happened?
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Something had happened. She didn't know what, but something very bad had definitely happened. There was no other reason why she would ever take John to the safe house. Whatever it was that had come after them was bad, too, because the last time Mary had been there the house was intact. Not being able to remember was an even worse sign. Not a lot of supernatural creatures had the ability to wipe memories and nothing she had ever encountered would do that and just leave them. A quick glance at her bracelet confirmed that her anti-possession charm was still there, so they hadn't been possessed.
"Are you sure you don't remember anything?" Mary asked nervously, hoping to find some clue about what happened. She wanted a normal life, but she wasn't going to let something screw with her family.
John sighed, somewhat exasperated, but didn't look away from the road as he replied, "I don't know anything. I don't even know where we are. Why didn't you tell me about that place? Is it yours now, or did it go to someone else in your family?"
"That place…" Mary paused, trying to find a way to explain it to John without having to bring up her past, "It just doesn't have a lot of good memories. It's mine, technically. I let some of my dad's cousins and their friends look after it, use it when they need to. They take care of the property taxes and other financial stuff, too, so don't worry about it."
John's jaw clenched. Mary suppressed a sigh, knowing that John was pissed. He had every right to be. She knew he wanted to know more about her family, especially since her parents died, but Mary wouldn't talk about it. She didn't want him to get involved in hunting and that is what her family did. Admitting that she had second cousins was bad enough; he'd probably want to meet them. Any closer relations and he'd definitely want to meet them. Her relatives, like her parents, believed that she should stay involved in the family business. If they met John, they wouldn't be willing to keep the family secret. They would tell him, try to recruit him to join the hunt. Admittedly, his skills as a marine would be great for hunting, but Mary didn't want to hunt anymore. She wanted her family to be normal.
"John," Mary's voice wavered, "Can we just forget about all of this? Tonight? I'm okay, you're okay, and I really don't want anything to do with that place."
John took a deep breath, caught between giving in to Mary's uncharacteristic plea and his need for answers. Releasing the breath, he nodded. For Mary, he would do anything. Even if it went against his instincts.
Mary smiled as she leaned against the window watching the Kansas landscape fly by. Her smile widened as she rested her hand on her stomach and imagined a normal future with her wonderful husband and the baby growing within her. The future was bright and she wouldn't let anyone or anything stand in the way of it.
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Lawrence, Kansas, January 1, 1979
"Happy New Year!" Mary exclaimed, pulling John in for a kiss as the clock struck midnight. Her cheeks were flushed with excitement and joy. Everything was perfect. They had moved into the new house a few days ago and set up the nursery. Mary had found an angel statue for twenty-five cents and, although it was a bit cheesy, John had gone along with it.
John was beaming as they broke their kiss. Impending fatherhood suited him. He had actually let the whole incident with showing up at some random, abandoned family property go without digging for more information. Mary still wasn't sure what had happened that night, but since then there hadn't been any supernatural occurrences within one hundred miles. Maybe the universe had gotten on board with her normal life after all.
Of course, Mary had enough experience with supernatural crap to know that that probably wasn't the case. She dug into the incident from eight months ago, but the only possible connection was the death of John's boss. Someone, or something, had murdered him that night. The cars in the garage were smashed, windshields broken. Coincidences didn't happen, so it had to be connected somehow. Unfortunately, John's boss had probably been used as bait to lure them over to the garage. Beyond that, Mary couldn't even begin to get a read on what happened. The most likely explanation was a demon, but that wasn't specific enough. The classic omens, like electrical storms, were also missing.
John's hand settled over Mary's large stomach, breaking her out of her thoughts. She smiled as he pulled her in against his chest, whispering in her ear, "This year is going to be great. Don't worry so much, you're going to be an amazing mom."
A faint blush crept into Mary's cheeks as she realized John thought she had been worrying about her parenting abilities again. He really wasn't far off in guessing what was troubling Mary. Over the last few months, she had been worried about raising her kid, afraid that she wouldn't be a good mom or that she would inadvertently twist her child into a hunter. It had to be the pregnancy hormones making her insecure. She knew she would never allow her child to be raised as a hunter, would never let John find out about the screwed up supernatural world.
But the Yellow Eyed Demon is still out there, Mary thought reluctantly. She had agreed to let him into her house in ten years, but that was still a little over four years away. He shouldn't be a problem now. The now familiar itch of a memory just out of reach manifested as she thought about the demon. There had been someone else there, someone with a warning about the demon…
"Are you okay?" A concerned voice pulled her from her thoughts again. John's eyebrows were furrowed as he gripped her shoulders, "Tired? We shouldn't have stayed up so late."
"I'm fine," Mary reassured him, "but it is getting late. We should get some sleep. Besides, you have to work in the morning."
John groaned jokingly, "It's New Year's Day! Should be a damn holiday…"
Mary rolled her eyes as she shook her head, causing her blond curls to bounce lightly, "Honey, you're co-owner of the garage. You make your own schedule. If you wanted New Year's Day off, you shouldn't have told everyone you'd be open."
John grinned as he followed Mary upstairs, acknowledging his defeat. Mary had told him to keep the garage closed for New Year's, or at least have Mike work instead. John had stubbornly argued that he wanted to take some time off when their son was born so working one holiday was a small price to pay. They both paused as they passed the nursery, thrilled that in just a few weeks their son, Dean, would be sleeping in there. John massaged Mary's shoulders, causing her to let out a contented moan as she leaned her head back. He grinned, "Shoulder rub before bed?"
Mary just giggled as she pulled him into their bedroom. For now, everything was perfect.
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An obnoxious buzzing invaded John's dream. What the hell was that noise, anyway? World's most annoying truck backing out of the driveway? As it continued, John began the journey back to consciousness. It was the damned alarm clock, which meant it was already seven and John had to get up. It was tempting to just turn the stupid thing off and go back to sleep, though. The bed was warm and inviting and Mary was curled up next to him.
"Turn it off," Mary mumbled, still mostly asleep. Chagrined, John turned off the alarm and pulled himself away from his wife.
A glance at the clock told John that he had actually hit the snooze button a few times and, if he didn't get in the shower now, he would be late to open the garage. As it was, he was going to have to skip breakfast. He had a car waiting that he'd promised he'd get done by noon. Reluctantly, John pried himself away from Mary's side and dragged himself out of bed.
An impressive thirty minutes later, John pulled into the garage, intent on finishing the Pinto before noon. Personally, John thought the owner would be better off selling the thing instead of fixing it, but he'd always thought Pintos were crap.
The bell at the front desk rang. John slid out from under the Pinto and headed up to the front. Time had gone faster than he thought. It was already ten. A familiar man was waiting at the front. He was tall, a little over six feet. His hair was short and dark blonde. His eyes were green, framed by long lashes, and his face was symmetrical. He was wearing a leather jacket and torn, baggy jeans. John knew he had met this guy, but he couldn't place him.
"Hi, how can I help you today?" John asked, wiping his greasy hands on a rag. The man smiled distantly, lost in thought. When he didn't reply, John prompted, "Sir? Is there something wrong with your car?"
"No, sorry," the man replied, voice rough with disuse, "I'm actually here to see if you're hiring. I need a job and, I don't have any certification or anything, but I'm really good with cars. My dad taught me everything he knew."
John smiled. He had a good feeling about this guy, even if he couldn't remember how he knew him. "Well, why don't you do tell me what's wrong with this car and how you'd fix it."
"For starters, it's a Pinto," the man replied dryly. Off to a good start, then. John could never hire someone who thought a Pinto was actually a good car. The man looked over the car for a few minutes, then gave John exactly the answer he was looking for. John grinned as the man gave his analysis, and then told him, "As long as my partner has no objections, you're hired. You look familiar, do I know you from somewhere?"
The man extended his hand while apologizing, "Sorry, I completely forgot to introduce myself. Dean Van Halen. I've visited Lawrence before, but it's been a while."
"Right!" John exclaimed, pleased to remember meeting this man. Last time, he'd gotten off to a bad start by showing up at the café drunk from the night before and asking, frankly, bizarre questions. He did direct John to the Impala, though. "How have you been, Dean? You were right about that Impala—she drives like a dream."
John fell into comfortable conversation with Dean as they fixed the Pinto to the best it could get. Another customer rolled into the garage as they were finishing the Pinto around eleven. It was a '64 Mustang, definitely better than the Pinto.
"So Dean, do you have any plans for dinner?" John asked, knowing Mary would kill him for inviting a guest to a holiday dinner without giving her fair warning. For some reason, though, Dean felt like he belonged with them.
Dean smiled, "I'm in."
Yeah, Mary was going to kill him. He definitely needed to buy some chocolates or flowers on the way home.
TBC
Next time on Over the Hills and Far Away: Find out what happens when Dean meets Mary (again) and what has he been up to since he got stuck in 1978? Will he be able to save his family?
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