Wild Horses
Chapter One
Green Eyes
"I have my freedom but I don't have much time
Faith has been broken tears must be cried
Let's do some living after we die"
-Rolling Stones
My mother was dying.
Except, to me she wasn't just dying- if I wasn't in her presence, it was like she was already dead. Two years had passed since she was diagnosed with cervical cancer. It was a "treatable" case they'd told us, they said they'd caught it early enough- so she would be just fine. After a lot of fundraising and loans, we were able to pay for a hysterectomy and the doctors gave her the all clear, only for us to bring her back again six months later to tell us all those cigarettes in her youth rendered her tar black lungs useless, too.
When you're sixteen, the last thing you want to hear is that you're gonna be an orphan.
But that's exactly what was going to happen. I was going to be an orphan.
And suddenly I was faced with an impending loneliness, a void. I wouldn't have anyone once she was gone. No grandparents, no aunts or uncles, no cousins, no friends, no father and now my mother was leaving me too. It had only ever been us, I mean we moved a lot and she worked a lot… but I didn't know anything else.
"Lenni?" Mom's raspy voice came from her room as I passed the door. I tried to avoid going in there as much as I could, she knew it. "Can you come here for a minute?" She asked and I hesitantly stuck my head inside the doorway.
"I've got a lot of homework." I answered, clearing my throat a little. Looking at her just… it hurt. "After?"
"Come on Sunshine, just a couple of minutes." Mom, Monica, pressed. I looked at the nasal cannula and the lack of hair and the collar bone sticking out of her dressing robe and nodded my head. I sat on the corner of the bed, facing away from her. "I know this must be hard," She started. "And I know that I… haven't been the greatest mother."
My head turned to her before even thinking about it. "You were the best mom in the world."
Mom put her hand on top of mine with a small smile, not acknowledging my use of the past tense. "Listen, Lennon, please." and so I nodded. "I had you too young, I wasn't ready… I'm 32 years old and the only thing I've contributed to the world is my little girl." Mom gave another fond smile, I moved farther up the bed and closer to her. "Len, you shouldn't have had to deal with me the way you did, the men coming in and out, me not being home- I'm… I'm sorry that all you've ever done is take care of me."
"Mom, get some rest." I insisted. The idea of getting deep into my emotional depths was already draining, let alone actually doing it.
"I want to do something for you, before I go." I nodded in acknowledgment."Dean, that's your father's name. It's Dean."
I already knew his last name, because she gave it to me. Instead of a Lachance, I was a Winchester. She didn't want people to think I was a bastard (Even though that's exactly what I am), so she gave me his name. No matter how relentless I had been growing up, she would never breathe a word to me about him- not even his first name. I found out from my (now dead) grandmother that he was a punk ass kid in my mom's junior class. Real handsome but good for nothing. That he skipped town without so much as a goodbye to my mom. From what Grams said, I don't think my mom knew about me when he left though- sometimes I would pretend that mom managed to tell him about me and that I grew up with a father. It never really mattered who he was or what he looked like or what his name was. It was more of pretending to attend father daughter dances, imagining he was there when I needed someone to beat up a bully at school- that sort of thing.
I cleared my throat again, "Why are you telling me that?" it was an inquiry I wasn't entirely certain that I wanted the answers to.
"Because if I don't tell you now, you'll never know." Mom held my hand in hers as I tried to push aside the 'I'm a dead woman' undertone of the comment in order to continue on as I was. "Oh." was the only noise I could manage. "Can I apologize for something else?" She'd added.
"Why not." My curiosity admittedly spiked.
Mom sighed and rolled her eyes a little, trying to crack a smile. "Your name"
"Mom!" I exclaimed, pouting a little bit.
"What? I'm sorry, I was on so many painkillers when I named you. It's horrible, everyone always thought you were a boy and I'm really sorry." We both had a little laugh. She was right, Lennon Floyd Winchester wasn't the most feminine of names. In my 9th grade English class one guy told me it sounded like a porn name, so that's a nice thought. Once or twice Mom said she wanted to name me Ashline, which I think is very pretty. It's a little late to change it though, I'd probably just get confused. "Baby, grab my laptop."
So I did, powering it up and sitting beside her. Mom put her arm around me and kissed my cheek. "Take it I'm googling my dad?" I mumbled, biting my lip and typing Dean Winchester into Search the Web but not hitting enter.
"Don't be scared, Len. When I'm gone, you need to be with family- and Dean is it." Mom rubbed my shoulder and hit enter for me. Both mine and my mother's eyes widened immediately 10.9 million results?!
The Winchester Brothers: A Case Study
Dean Winchester; Lunatic or Savior?
Winchester Murders of 2011
Dean Winchester The Ripper on the Run
Dean and Sam Winchester- Back from the Grave… Again!
"Um… mom? Is my dad a serial killer?" Of all the things you would think to find when googling your birth father- this was not one of them. I thought with my Gram's description of the 'punk-ass kid' I may find a few DUIs, maybe he might be in a motorcycle gang at the absolute worst… but a mass murdering psychopath? That one hadn't crossed my mind.
Mom hesitated, "Well… maybe not, I mean- there is bound to be more than one Dean Winchester in the world, right?" She reasoned, clicking the images icon. All the photos were of a man in his early 30's. In his mug shot he was doing a 'blue steel' Zoolander impression. He was handsome, a strong jaw and pretty good physique. When Mum clicked one of the pictures and I saw him closer, all doubts were cast aside. "I have his eyes." I stated, not so slightly terrified of the man in the picture before me. Mom went to shut the computer, her eyes screaming "I'm sorry" but I held the screen up. "No, I want to read it."
Mom nodded and moved her hand from the screen and put it over mine. I clicked the first link. The Winchester Brothers: A Case Study. It was a whole website dedicated to my dad and his brother, evidently named Sam. But for the sake of time, I clicked on "Summary"
Dean Winchester's original crimes were a string of murders down in St. Louis, MO. where he was presumably shot dead at the scene of the crime. Though this is what was reported to the official record and the media, it hardly seems to be the case. Dean resurfaced late in 2006 in Baltimore, MD where he was caught red handed at the scene of yet another murder. This completely baffled the detectives who'd seen his death certificate signed one year prior. In Baltimore, Sam was arrested alongside his brother as an accomplice. During interrogations , the two brothers displayed horrible levels of arrogance and went as far as giving a false, delusional confession (see in link below).
This time mom decided to hit play, Dean was sitting at a table in an interrogation room in shackles. His voice was low as he spoke. "My name is Dean Winchester. I'm an Aquarius. I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach, and frisky women. And I did not kill anyone. But I know who did. Or rather what did. Of course it can't be for sure, because our investigation was interrupted. But our working theory was that we're looking for some kind of vengeful spirit."
Really mom? I thought. This guy? The officer behind the camera said "Excuse me?" and Dean continued in his previous manner- "You know, Casper the bloodthirsty ghost?"
"Oh, mama." I sighed, shaking my head a little with a laugh- granted, laughing at a supposed murder wasn't really an acceptable action when it came down to it. She wasn't quite as amused as I was though. In the remainder of the confession, Dean or… dad or whatever actually seemed kind of clever, but mostly arrogant… really painfully arrogant.
Soon after that episode, Sam had escaped from where he was being held. Dean was to be transferred. The brothers escaped without a trace for months. That was until an armed robbery took place in Milwaukee where there were two casualties. Their third accomplice included. Sam and Dean narrowly escaped yet again. This time by disguising themselves as SWAT members, again proving the brothers intelligence and adaptability. By this time, the FBI was on their case and the Winchesters were on the very top of the Most Wanted list. In 2007 they were arrested in Arkansas for breaking and entering- where they managed to escape again.
A few short months later, the brothers landed behind bars a second time. This time in Monument, Colorado. Sam, Dean and some 30 others in the sheriff's office died in a gas explosion- or so it was believed until early 2011.
I decided to skip the words and get to the videos. Though, I sort of wished I hadn't immediately after. One was a video of a bank heist via security cameras. There were machine guns, a wink at the camera courtesy of Dean, and then a bloody massacre in the vault. It made me want to vomit and I wasn't entirely certain how this was allowed to be seen by the public. The second was being recorded on someones cell phone, my sperm donor and his brother killed everyone inside of a diner, and then said they'd be moving on to the next state in the very near future. And they were smiling about it. "Lenni, you should close it now." Mom announced. "I- I didn't know." We weren't the type of people that kept up with the news in recent years, we were more concerned with her rapidly deteriorating health and my attempts to stay in school. Mom pressed a tender hand against my cheek and wiped away the bead of water running down it. "Oh, honey."
"I just always thought my dad would be the hero." I confessed, nearly whispering. "I thought maybe he grew out of what grams told me and he became a doctor or a teacher or something." Mom hugged me. "It explains Karla." I laughed, mom pulled away.
"That little bitch? Thought we were ignoring her?" Mom added.
"We are, it just… explains it." There was this girl, Karla White this really very nasty, very catholic ginger that was convinced I was the spawn of satan. Granted, I did play it up by popping up behind her and intentionally cringing whenever she mentioned 'christ our savior'. She'd gone around saying it was only a matter of time before I snapped. But to be frank, I didn't go to school enough to be too affected by it. My priorities were elsewhere, especially when I could learn just as much reading a book or two as I could sitting in a severely underfunded class with 40 kids, 31 chairs and 20 books. I'd probably just go for my GED anyhow. "I'm glad you told me."
Mom let out a shaky breath, "Thank god." and she smiled. "Why don't you go grab some pizza from the fridge and come back and we'll marathon Gilmore Girls and have a girls night, okay?" She kissed my forehead. "Now go get my pizza, Len."
"Okay." I smiled and got up to go get her some hawaiian pizza. That evening was one of my best memories of her despite the whole mass murder father thing. She told me stories of when they'd dated before he apparently went crazy. It was Tallahassee, September 1995 when they met in earth science class. Mom said he was real charming, like, he literally charmed her pants off by the second date, and again on the next few. He left the state in late October, and I was born May 25th a month premature. That was pretty much it, they weren't in love, they were young and stupid. But hey- I guess I'm here so it wasn't all bad… weird to think they were only a year older than me when I was born.
We watched our mother- daughter show, which was also a little strange now, the character Dean looked a whole lot like my "Uncle" Sam. Just a coincidence I guess. Towards the end of the night we even found a book series called Supernatural. I was almost certain it was about Dean and Sam, it sure seemed like it… but it was a little hard to believe most of the time… who comes up with a Wendigo?
We fell asleep talking about how she'd always known I was going to grow up to do great things, and that she loved me, and that I loved her more than life. My arms were around her waist and my head against her chest until slowly, in her sleep, her heart ceased beating and she stopped breathing.
My mother had died.
