I wrote this a while back and just never got round to posting it. Little back story to why John went to one of my favourite characters!
1978
Mary Winchester leant against the solid bulk of her husband's Impala, taking just a moment to steady herself for the task ahead. She visited here often but today was always the hardest visit of the year.
The anniversary of the death of her parents.
John exited quickly from the other side of the car, coming round to pull her into an embrace, lightly rubbing her back as she shivered against him. She rested there for a few seconds longer and then stepped back, kissing him gently on his lips,. She pushed away the image of him lying dead in her arms that always seemed to fight its way to the surface on this day. Pulling back from him she made her way across the road to the small side entrance gate of the graveyard. Although it was May there was still a chill in the air and she pulled her coat closer to her, clutching the two roses that she carried tighter against her chest as she did.
Taking the path to the right she followed it down to the fork at its end and then moved down to the site where her parent's graves sat side by side. For a minute she thought she had made a mistake somehow, that lost in her musings she had taken the wrong road as she took in the black woman that was kneeling by her mother's headstone. The woman carried a small wreath in her hand and was deep in prayer as Mary quietly approached her.
"What are you doing?"
The woman startled, falling back on her heels as she dropped the wreath and looked up at Mary. "I was just paying my respects ma'am, I ain't meaning no harm by it."
"These are my parent's graves. Did you know them?" Mary warily moved closer, trying to get a better look at the wreath that now lay discarded on the earth that covered her mother. From the corner of her eye she spotted a similar one had been laid against the headstone on her father's resting place. She recognised the plant as she approached. "Rosemary?" She grabbed the woman's arm and hauled her to her feet. "Who are you and why are you here?"
"My name is Missouri." Her eyes fell to the wreath at their feet. "I think you know what I'm doing here. You know what this plant is for?"
"Protection from evil spirits." Mary laughed a dry little laugh. "Except you're too late, but I think that you already know that."
"Evil stalks the dead in these graves and the living that tends them. Somethin' killed your folks and it's taint hangs in the air here, spoils the peace. I was just tryin' to help."
"How do you know that? Are you a hunter?" Mary let go of the woman's arm and knelt down to sort the wreath, adding one of the roses to it as she did.
"No that I am not, but I have the gift." She spoke the words quietly as if there were others nearby that could hear her.
"The gift?" Mary moved to her father's grave and placed the other rose down there, pausing to press her hand against the cold granite as she did, a small prayer passing her lips before she turned back to her companion. "You mean that you're psychic?"
"Yes, ma'am. I can feel the evil that shadows your family."
"Shouldn't that be shadowed?," Mary asked as she stood and brushed herself off.
"No, this date will always be one of great tragedy to your family I fear." Missouri stated softly. "It is still here, it wants somethin' from you." She lifted her eyes to look at Mary, sorrow showing in them. "It staked a claim on you. A life for …..somethin' that it needs from you. I can't see what."
Mary paused, taking in what had been said and then she reached out her hand taking the other woman's in it. "Please try. It killed….it killed them all, my father, my mother….John. I couldn't be without them and him…..I…."
"You made a deal with the devil child. Never will that end well." Missouri took Mary's hand, turning it palm up, studying it before she closed her eyes. "I see a house, a white door, there's numbers…an 8, perhaps a 4. There is heat….so much heat….I can't." She tried to drop Mary's hand but she hung on.
"Heat? What? Is there a fire? My home, the number is 1841. Do you see a fire in my house? Please tell me," Mary pleaded with her.
Missouri opened her eyes. "A fire but not a fire. Something else. I'm sorry, it's vague. I can't." She went to pull away again but stopped, stepping closer instead. Mary tilted her head questioningly at the smile that crossed the face opposite her. Missouri moved in close, placing a hand on the other woman's stomach. "God has given you what evil has taken from you, a family…his most precious of gifts. Your son will be strong." She patted Mary's waistline and stepped back. "He will need to be. Angels will watch over your child, if not your children."
"….but I'm not pregnant." Mary pulled back, confusion in her eyes. "Angels? There is no such thing….."
"You are. He's already here. He will be a beautiful, loving child. I see a a late Winter birth. Snow on the ground." Missouri paused, sincerity shining in her eyes as she continued. "Honey child, angels are real, they are here with us now. They speak of him. Hunter they say…..saviour they call him." Missouri backed away. "I need to go." She pulled a card from her pocket. "One day your family may need me, this is where they can find me." Handing it to Mary, she smiled at the woman in front of her. "Your boy will give you much joy. Treasure each moment Mary Winchester. You have five years before it will come knocking on your door, use them wisely child. Live in the now."
Mary watched as the woman walked away from her, a hand reaching down to rest on her stomach then with one final look at the graves she sighed and headed back to her husband, wondering just what she had brought down on her family.
1983
He had struggled with the decision to throw out her stuff but most of it was damaged from the smoke of the fire anyway. He knew that if he didn't do it now he never would. So he had gotten just the right side of drunk and started it. The small white card drifted to the floor as John folded Mary's good coat up and placed it on the pile of stuff that he'd separated out to go to the charity shop.
Turning he picked up the little hand written card and look at the name on it – Missouri Moseley, Psychic and Palm Reader – he looked at the number on the card. Mary had been speaking to a palm reader? He tried to remember the last time that he'd seen his wife wear this coat and failed. Turning the card over he wondered if this woman could tell him what had happened in his house, explain what the hell had put his wife on the ceiling and burned her. Hell it couldn't hurt could it? He grabbed the phone and dialled the number before he could change his mind. It was answered on the first ring.
"Hello John. I had a feelin' that you'd be callin'. Let me give you my address and you can come talk to me. Bring your little 'uns too. I'd like to get to meet Dean. I've heard a lot about him."
John noted down the address and directions.
"Come to me John. You may not like what you hear, but I'm afraid that you do need to know. It's the only way now to keep your family safe from harm John. The only way to ready them for the fight ahead."
Missouri hung up the phone and turned to the young man with the blonde hair that was sitting beside her. "Why couldn't you just have told him yourself Castiel? If you are watching over the boy, John would rest easier knowing."
"It would make him more reckless in the days to come, his son needs his father to teach him, not me. I will show myself only when the time is right."
"So." She settle back on the old settee and looked at the last picture that Mary had given her of her son, wishing she had been able to stop her death, knowing that she would never have been allowed to. "So, this goofy looking little kid is gonna be the one to save the world?"
Castiel smiled and shook his head. "No. He is going to save his brother, the rest will just follow."
THE END.