"Hide Him From the Waiting World " - a Supernatural Fanfic
A/N: Hey, everyone! I just started Supernatural on Netflix, so the information I have to work with is limited at this point (I'm halfway through season two, shh), but I just had the urge to write this fanfic. If you like this, please comment. I can never get enough constructive criticism - anything constructive is greatly appreciated! Featuring lyrics from "Mother" by Danzig.
Prologue
Dean watched as she slept sweetly beside him. Her hair was the perfect shade of brown, and her eyes were just as gorgeous. He stroked her hair back softly and admired her from five inches away. But he knew it wouldn't last. He had to hunt, and to hunt meant to leave. Dean rolled to the outside and looked at the clock beside him.
4:30 A.M.
He sighed. It had been a long time since he had gone to bed with someone he knew he would hate leaving in the morning. But it was inevitable. Carefully pulling away from her warm body, Dean slowly climbed out of bed, slipped into his clothes from the night before, and grabbed his things from the desk in the corner of the motel room. Beside his keys was a notepad. Looking at the clock, then back at her, Dean carefully wrote out a goodbye note and his phone number:
"Hey, I had to leave on short notice this morning. I'm sorry. But I had a great night with you. Please, call me. Dean."
He placed it on top of her cell phone and quietly slipped out to the parking lot where Sam was already waiting for him in the parking lot.
"What the hell took you so long to get ready, Dean? Jesus, I've been waiting for twenty minutes."
"Sorry, Sammy – I had a date night last night," Dean said with a smile. "Damn, was she a beauty, Sammy… The whole package and everything, man, I'm telling you."
"Doesn't it bother you?"
"What?"
"Sleeping around with women you'll probably never see or hear from again?"
"Well... I left her my number."
"You leave everyone your number, Dean."
"But Sammy… I think she might be the one, brother."
"Oh, so now you decide to start getting serious with people?" Sam blew the fluff of hair out of his face. "You are killing me here, Dean…"
Dean started the engine of his beautiful Impala and began pulling out of the parking lot. "When we get done with this hunt, I'm coming back for her."
"Did you even get her name?"
"Emily. I think…"
"Jesus Christ, Dean."
Dean smirked and headed down the highway. "Adios, Colorado... Maine, here we come."
Emily woke up when she couldn't feel Dean next to her anymore. She slowly opened one eye, then the other, both of which confirmed he wasn't there. She sat up, hoping to see him somewhere in the room, but seeing his clothes, leather jacket, keys, wallet, and phone all gone, she sighed.
"And another one gets away… Damn it."
Emily climbed out of bed and put her clothes back on from the night before leaving the motel herself. Gathering her things, she noticed a small slip of paper on top of her phone. She quickly read it before smiling to herself. "Guess the one-night stand wasn't so bad after all." She put her things in her purse and made her way out of the motel.
Days went by with no call, and Dean slowly forgot about his night with Emily. Then days became weeks, and still no calls. At least, not from her. She quickly became a faint memory in the sea of one-night stands. Then weeks became months, and it wasn't until almost a year had passed that Dean began to remember Emily again. He didn't know what it was, but she slowly came back to his memory, and no matter what, he couldn't get her out of his head for what felt like forever.
Dean was sitting at the bar with Sam, finishing off his bottle when she came into his thoughts again. He began staring into space, which had been happening often enough that Sam could recognize it.
"Dean," Sam said, gently nudging him in the shoulder. "Dean…" Dean was still zoned out. "Dean!" Sam poked him hard in the side.
"Ow! What the hell was that for, Sammy?"
"You were zoned out again. Why don't you just call her? You can probably find her phone number online somewhere."
"Doesn't do me any good - I've only got a first name," he said, rubbing his side. "How'd you know she was what I was thinking about, anyway?"
"You do that thing with your bottle whenever she's on your mind. Just look her up, man."
Dean looked at Sam. He had a point. But it could never be that easy. Not once had he called a girl he'd slept with that hadn't called him - mainly because there weren't many that didn't call him back.
"I don't know, Sam. Maybe I should just let her go - get her out of my head. I mean, for Christ's sake, it's been almost a year. For all we know she could be dead now. I don't even know why she's in my head, man."
"Maybe if you looked her up, you would know."
Dean shrugged off his brother's idea and began to play with his face when his phone began buzzing on the bar. Dean quickly answered it.
"Hello?"
"Hello, it this Dean? Dean Winchester?"
"The one and only - who is this?"
"Hello, my name is Margaret Hessler. I work at the Good Shepherd Memorial Hospital outside of Blanding, Utah. I'm calling in regards to an Emily Ferron."
"Emily Ferron?" Well, now he had a potential last name, as luck would have it.
"Yes, Emily Ferron. She was admitted here last night. She came in complaining of abdominal pains and listed you as her contact. I was calling to see if you would be able to come in sometime today."
"Come in? For what, exactly?"
Sam watched Dean's expression change to complete confusion in about two seconds. 'What's going on?' He mouthed to his brother.
'Emily..?' Dean replied before resuming his conversation on the phone.
"I can't exactly say over the phone, Mr. Winchester. I need to see you in person as soon as possible," the nurse answered on the other end. Dean nodded.
"Okay, listen: I'm currently in Arizona right now. Is there a number I can reach you at once I figure out when I'll be arriving?" Dean asked as he gestured for a pen and paper from Sam, who handed him a small notebook and pencil. As the woman on the other end gave him a phone number, Sam watched Dean quickly jot down the digits. "Okay, got it. Thank you. I will give you a call back soon." He hung up the phone.
"What was that?" Sam asked.
"A hospital. Called about Emily from Colorado. She put down my number as a contact when she admitted herself."
"Why would she put your number down, Dean?"
"Who knows - your guess is as good as mine. But one thing's for sure; whatever reason she listed me, it's gotta be important."
"You're not seriously thinking about driving all the way out to Utah for some random girl you slept with once…"
"Uh, yeah… I wanna know why she listed me and what's going on that the hospital lady can't tell me over the phone."
"Dude, what if she's a stalker or something?"
"Then we'll find out once we get there, won't we?"
Sam huffed. "Fine. Whatever, Dean." He pulled up a Mapquest page I his laptop. "Where did you say that hospital was?"
"Good Shepherd Memorial - Blanding, Utah."
He plugged the info into the search bar.
"We have a 396 mile, or six hour, long drive ahead of us, Dean."
"Well, we better get packing and on the road. Whatever's going on, we need to take care of it quickly. We don't have all the time in the world to waste." He picked up his phone and called the hospital back.
"Yes, this is Dean Winchester - I'm probably going to be there around…" Dean checked his watch for the time. "7:30 tonight… Okay, great. Bye." Dean closed his phone.
"Let's go hit the open road, Sammy boy. We gotta be there in like, six hours."
"She say what for?"
"Nope. Your guess is as good as mine." Dean tipped his empty bottle up. "Damn it. Another beer," He motioned to the bartender, who handed him another frosty cerveza for the road as Dean laid out a $10 bill. "Thanks."
The Winchesters climbed in the Impala. The sky was clear, the road was empty and long, and it was at least six hours till they got into Blanding.
"Ready to go, Sammy?"
"Yeah…" There was a hint of something negative in his voice. Dean noticed it immediately.
"What is it, Sam?"
"I was just… just thinking about this whole situation."
"What about it, Sam?"
"Well, it's been forever since you've seen this girl, let alone talked to her, and she picks you of all people to put down as her contact? Don't you find that a little weird?"
"Yeah, a little. Which is why we're going. We'll take care of the situation now, then once it's done and over with, we'll get back to hunting. Can't let this get in the way later down the road, so we might as well fix it now." Dean put the car in gear and started out for the road.
"Okay, fine. You're driving, Dean."
"Yeah, you're damn right I'm driving. I don't want to let this issue sit and then come back to bite us in the butt if we don't need it to…"
Sam rolled his eyes. He just really hated having to sleep in the Impala. Dean focused on the road.
But Sam had a point. What in the name of God would compel her to use him as a contact after she never called him in the first place? The thought had crossed his mind, but he didn't want to acknowledge what it could be. It's probably just an honest mistake… Or maybe she missed me, he said, trying to lie to himself. But it wasn't worth the effort. Whatever she needed from him, it couldn't be any worse than what they usually met other people for. No point in dwelling on it.
"How far is it again, Sam?"
"You're driving on blind faith for 396 miles - five hours and fifty-nine minutes, Mr. Dean Winchester."
"Shut your cakehole, you ass…" Dean snapped, speeding down the empty road.
Dean looked at Sam, then at the radio, then shook his head before turning the radio up just loud enough to hear. "Mother, tell your children not to walk my way. Tell your children not to hear my words, what they mean, what they say. Mother… Mother, can you keep them in the dark for life? Can you hide them from the waiting world? Oh, mother…"
Sam had long since fallen asleep in the seat beside him. Dean looked over and could see the puddle of drool expanding on Sam's jacket. He smirked, then looked back at the road. They finally made it into town. A town that looked about the size of a small park and had just about as many different places.
"Jesus… 'Welcome to Blanding - Population: 2,588.' And I thought Kingman was small."
"Pretty sure this is called 'isolation.'" Sam piped up with a groggy voice from his nap. He rubbed his eyes to refocus them. "Is this actually Blanding?"
"Well, good morning, Sergeant Waterfalls. How was the voyage?"
"Very funny."
"I know. Shoulda become a comedian instead of being a hunter."
He took a left on the town's main street. At the end of the road, he could see the hospital. The brothers pulled into the parking lot; Sam looked at his watch.
"6:45. What time did we leave?"
"I don't know, maybe 12:30."
"Well, at least we made good time," Sam said, trying to stretch out inside the car. Dean got out and stretched quickly.
"You coming, Sam?"
"Yeah, I guess. Just give me a sec to finish stretching." Sam let out a big yawn and threw his arms up before getting out himself.
The brothers walked in the main entrance. It was echoey and nice - the floors were shiny, the lights were dim to use more sunlight, and the lobby as a whole had a warm, comfortable feeling to it.
"How can I help you?" The older woman behind the counter asked as she saw the two approach the counter.
"Um, hi. I'm looking for a Margaret Hessler?"
"Oh, yes. Ms. Hessler is waiting for you, Mr. Winchester. She's on the third floor, down the hall to the left from the elevators - third room on the right side of the hall."
"Thanks."
Sam and Dean got in the elevator silently. Sam didn't want to ask his brother about the woman again, and Dean didn't want to talk to Sam about her. He just wanted to get this issue resolved. The elevator stopped on their floor, and the two made their way to see this Margaret lady.
The door was open - Dean knocked on it while walking in slowly. The woman in the office looked up at the sound.
"Mr. Winchester," Dr. Hessler said as Dean and Sam entered her office.
"You can just call me Dean. This is my brother Sam," Dean replied, motioning to Sammy. "So, what is it that you needed to see me about?"
"Oh, yes… Emily Ferron," she said, looking away for a moment. "Please, close the door and have a seat."
Dean plopped in one of the chairs as Sam closed the door carefully before joining him.
"So…"
"So… Dean. As I told you over the phone, Emily came in last night with severe pains. She listed you as her emergency contact."
"Which is what I was confused on."
Dean caught her by surprise. "You don't know why she gave us your number?"
"No, I have no idea. I haven't seen her in almost a year. We met at a bar in Colorado - Sam and I were there on… business. She and I had a, um… We had a night together, and I had to leave the next morning. Haven't seen or heard from her since."
Dr. Hessler let out a huge breath.
"Then what I have to tell you is going to be a much bigger situation than I anticipated." She leaned over her desk, leaning on her arms with her hands folded. "Mr. Winchester, she came in last night because she was in labor."
Dean's eyes grew wide. He turned to Sam, who had the same expression.
"She… She was pregnant?"
"End of the third trimester. She wasn't due for another two weeks." She paused. "I think, if you didn't know before now, that she listed you as her contact because…"
"No. No, don't say it. It can't be…"
"Can we see him?" Sam asked.
"Sam, what are you doing?"
"Dean, think about it. We were in Colorado about nine months ago, and it's not impossible to say you might be the father."
"We can do a quick test to determine if it's true, Mr. Winchester. We just need to know definitively, for legal purposes."
"Why can't you just ask Emily? She's gotta know, doesn't she?"
Hessler bit her lip. "Dean, she died. She died last night during childbirth…"
Dean's expression changed again. Another person he knew. Another person dead because of him.
He was silent for a minute before slapping his leg in frustration. "God damn it!" He got up and started pacing around the office. He ran his hands through his hair. He let out a deep breath. Sam turned and looked at him.
"Dean… If it is your kid…"
"I know, Sam… I know." He let out another breath. "What test do I need to take?"
"We can do a blood test, or we could do a DNA test. DNA would be more accurate, but it will take a day or so for the results."
Dean paused. "... I gotta know for sure."
"Okay… Come with me."
Dr. Hessler led the two to a more sanitary room and reached for a cotton swab. "Open up. I need to swab your mouth."
"Wait… Can we see it? After this… If it's my kid, I at least should see what it looks like."
"He."
"What?"
"What he looks like. She had a boy." She rubbed the swab against the sides of his mouth, then put it in a clear capsule.
"... Can we see him?"
She nodded. "We can drop this off in the lab for comparison. I'll run it overnight. It should be ready by tomorrow afternoon."
As they made their way to see the baby, Sam looked at Dean. He could tell he was torn. Hessler took them to a window. There were probably only a dozen babies or so. Three of them were wrapped in blue. Dean walked up to the glass, his eyes scanning for the one that could be his. Sam stood beside him, his hands cupped on the glass. Between the three wrapped in blue, it was hard to tell what they looked like underneath the blankets.
"He's over there," Hessler piped up. "Farthest one over in blue."
The boys looked over - Dean could make out what the tag said, just barely: 'Baby Winchester.'
"Doc, how is he?"
"He's a healthy little fighter. There were some complications when he was born, but he's fine. But I must tell you now, before the test results come in, that he's…" She hesitated.
"He's what, Dr. Hessler?" Sam asked.
"He's blind. In both eyes."
Dean sat underneath the light of a dim, sucky lamp in their motel room. He watched Sam sleep. The events from the day were keeping him awake.
He looked at the clock – 3:34 A.M. – then sighed. He rubbed his eyes. There was just so much shit thrown at him at one time.
"Dean? You still awake?" Sam asked in a groggy voice, blinking his eyes a few times to focus them.
"Yeah, Sammy… I'm still up."
"The baby on your mind?"
"Amongst other things, yes."
"Wanna talk about it?"
"No."
"Come on, Dean. It's gonna keep you up for days if you don't. Just talk to me."
Dean sat silent for a minute, his hand over his mouth. "You know, Sam… That's my son. I don't care if that test says I'm not. I can see it. He's my son. But I don't know if I want to be his father. If I even can."
"We've got legal custody over him, don't we?"
"Yeah, with Emily gone and her not having any family that's still kicking, all that leaves is us."
Sam sat in his bed, thinking for a minute. "We can't just leave him, though…"
"What other choice do we have, Sam? We can't hunt demons and spirits AND raise this kid! The life we have makes it impossible!"
"But we've got other hunters and friends and people to help us everywhere! I mean, look at you and I – Dad left us with so many peo-."
"Yeah, and look how we turned out! Dad wasn't a dad to us anymore – not after Mom died. He became more of a drill sergeant than a father, and that's not a life worth living."
"But he's gonna grow up not knowing anything about himself, Dean."
"He'll have a better image of who he is growing up with set of normal parents than with us, Sam…"
"But then he's living a lie… Yeah, you could put him up for adoption, but then you'll have to live the rest of your life knowing that you left your kid behind-."
"HE HAS A BETTER CHANCE WITH NORMAL PEOPLE THAN HE DOES WITH ME, SAM. I JUST GET PEOPLE KILLED."
Sam froze, his eyes wide as he stared at his older brother.
"He's better off not knowing his mother had a one-night stand with some crazy hunter who didn't want him…" Dean whispered, his face buried in his hands.
"But you do want him."
Dean hesitated for a minute. "How am I supposed to balance raising him and hunting? I mean, Jesus Christ… It's hard enough having to raise a kid, but a blind kid?"
"We figure out a way to do it, Dean. You're not letting him go. He is your kid, your responsibility. You can't just pawn him off to someone else entirely. You it to him, and to Emily, to be his dad."
Dean sat silently.
"Just get some sleep, Dean. Take a break. Walk away from it. Overthinking it won't do you any good."
"Goodnight, Sam." Dean answered as he got up from his chair and made his way to his bed, avoiding eye contact with Sam.
The next morning, Dean left for the hospital alone. Sam didn't hear him leave.
He walked into Hessler's office. "Dr. Hessler, are you here?"
She peeked her head out from around the corner. "Mr. Winchester? How are you this morning?"
"I'm okay…" He paused. "Actually, I'm not. I spent all of last night going back and forth about my son. About whether or not I should put him up for adoption."
"Well, that's reasonable. I'm sorry I had to be the one to put such a heavy burden on you so unexpectedly."
"It's not your fault. I just… my job, it requires me to move around from place to place. I just don't know if I would be able to provide for him the way I should be able to."
She smiled and nodded her head. "Come, Dean… I have something I want you to see."
Hessler took Dean to a room with a bunch of rocking chairs. "Take a seat, I'll be right back."
"Okay…" he said as he took a seat, then she disappeared. She returned a moment later with a small blue bundle in her arms.
"Here, take him." Hessler said, giving Dean the baby.
Sam woke up slowly. His vision was all blurry, but it disappeared after a few blinks.
"Dean? You up yet?"
He got no reply. He sat up in his bed, desperately searching for Dean. The keys to the Impala were gone, as were Dean's coat, wallet, cell phone, and shoes. Sam instantly knew where he was. He shot up, threw on his pants and shirt, and went to open the door when it opened from the other side.
"Sam? What were you doing?"
"Where'd you go, man? Don't tell me you –."
Sam looked down at what Dean was holding in his hand. "What made you change your mind, Dean?"
"You were right, Sammy. A boy does need to know his father."
Sam moved out of the way for Dean to get the car seat, himself, and the diaper bag through the door. He set his son down on the floor, and then unclipped his straps before picking him up. Sam could see the resemblance between his son and his nephew now. They had the same hair, the same face.
"Did Emily get to name him before she… she passed?"
Dean looked over at his brother, his son cradled in his arms. "Yeah… they were her last words."
"And?"
"His name is Dean. Dean Michael Winchester." Dean smiled, a hint of sadness hidden in it. "Wanna hold him?"
Sam nodded. Dean passed his brother the baby, and Sam held him to his chest like Dean had been. He was a small little guy, snoozing away in Sam's arms. The two could hear his little snores as he slept.
"You did good, Dean..."
"Thanks, Sam..."
Dean once again was sitting under the light of the dim, sucky lamp in their motel room, a beer in his hand. Sam came back from the corner store across the street.
"Got the stuff, Dean," he said, setting down the paper bags full of baby formula and diapers beside their own duffle bags.
"Thanks, man," Dean said, holding a beer bottle out to his brother. Sam took it and took a seat beside Dean.
"Got him to sleep?"
"Yeah. It was a lot easier than I thought. He just ate, I burped him, and he fell asleep."
"Nice." Sam tipped the bottle back.
"I don't want to be like Dad, Sam."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, don't let me get into the habit of treating him like a soldier. Not like Dad did with us. He's my son, and your nephew, but it ain't gonna count for shit if I don't treat him like that. If I treat him like fighter instead of a kid, you know?"
"I don't think you're gonna have that issue. You know what not to do, so..." he said, trying to comfort Dean while taking another swig.
"Yeah... yeah, you're right." Dean stood up to see his son, who was still peacefully sleeping. "I've survived all day so far and he's still alive, so I must be doing something right."
"Jesus, Dean, don't make it out to be morbid humor."
Dean frowned - he couldn't help it. It was the only thing he knew how to do to cope. Because as he looked at his son, Dean couldn't stop thinking about how his mother died because of that night. That it was his fault his son was left motherless.