1979 - Lawrence, Kansas
John Winchester was a simple man. He had never dreamed of big achievements in his life, never dared to believe to be something but a soldier or a mechanic at best ever since his father had left him behind and never returned for him. And ever since he had left the navy and met the girl of his dreams, Mary Campbell, a girl with the face of an angel with golden locks and bright green eyes, he had dreamed of nothing more than getting her to accept his sorry ass in marriage. He had been perfectly contempt with his life and his job as a mechanic, even with the disdain Mary's father had felt for him before his untimely death. He had been willing to deal with all of that if it meant to have Mary in his life.
Funny enough, they hadn't liked each other from the beginning. Quite the contrary, actually. They had despised one another as they had first met but someday something had suddenly changed and ever since that happened, John's whole world had been revolving around Mary Campbell, this fierce and strong-willed woman that was so very different than most girls he had met before.
After she had said yes to him finally, his dreams had expanded a little, became a bit more daring, in his eyes at least although many people would probably not call it daring what he had dreamed of. A nice house with a white picket fence in the front, in a quiet and friendly neighborhood where everyone knew everyone else, where children would play together on the road, and where the neighbors would invite them over for barbeque and dinner from time to time, a house filled with love and laughter, a cozy home to return to after a long exhausting day of lying underneath dirty old cars and his wife who would be waiting for him with dinner.
That was really the most daring his dreams had ever been and he would have been completely fine with just achieving that in his life. He had never dreamed of creating something like a legacy, of having children to carry on the name of his own broken family. What legacy would there be to carry on anyway? The Winchester name was really nothing of great worth or honor, nothing that was worth carrying on at least. Maybe a part of him had even feared that he would follow in his father's footsteps if he would have children, that he would someday just leave everything behind and never come back and that his kids would have to go through the same shit he had gone through.
It had been Mary and him against the rest of the world for a while and he had been happy with that.
He had never hoped for something more perfect than this life with her at his side and yet Mary had once again surprised him as she had shown him the tiny white plastic stick with the faint blue plus in the small field where the test result was shown. Up until that point, John had never even dared thinking about having children and he had been sure that he would not be a good father. At one point in his life, he had even thought that he didn't want to have children, but in that very moment, Mary's smile had brightened up the room, the freckles on the bridge of her nose and under her eyes dancing in the light of the candles she had placed on the dinner table that night for the special occasion. They were still living out of boxes after they had just moved into this small house in Lawrence, Kansas. Until that night, there simply had not been enough time to unpack those boxes properly. Hell, their dining table had been a cardboard box and they had been sitting on pillows on the ground in their kitchen. Still, the moment in itself couldn't have been any more perfect.
He had been dumbfounded at first, thoughts full of panic rushing through his brain of how the hell should they be able to afford to feed a child, of how the hell should they be able to get their house ready for another human being in it fast enough? But Mary had smiled at him and it was like the sun had decided to pay them a late visit in their kitchen and its warmth and light had crept into John's chest. He had picked up his wife in his arms and whirled her around the room in laughter, smothering her in kisses and enjoying the feeling of his dreams growing one more time.
The day his first child was born was a cold winter day. It was the twenty-fourth of January, early in the morning, as his wife had gone into labor and as the night started to creep in on the small hospital in Lawrence, a thick layer of fog lay over the streets of the small town in Kansas. It was too early for his child to be born - That was the only thought occupying his brain as he sat outside of the delivery room, waiting for news of his wife and child. As Mary had gone into labor, she had thought it was a false alarm like the previous two times during the last months, but after her water had broken and John started panicking because it was only the eight-month, Mary had laughed and told him that their son was just as impatient as his father.
Of course, they both didn't know what gender their child would truly have, but Mary had been certain from the start that it would be a little boy. John had secretly hoped for a boy as well although he would never say it and although he would love a daughter just as much. Really, there were more important things to worry about and right now all he could feel was panic anyway.
John Winchester had never been a religious man but as the fourteenth hour of him waiting in this white hallway begun, he found himself praying to God and all angels he knew to deliver his baby safely and keep his wife save as well. He would rather sacrifice his first child than losing his wife. The thought scared him for a second but as that second passed there was no guilt he felt about thinking like that. They could always have another child and another and another but his wife was the most important thing to him in this life and not even a child of his would change that. Not even a child of his would take that place of Mary in his heart. He would always put Mary in front of everything and everyone else and if it came to a burning house situation, he would get out his wife first.
Was this selfish?
Probably. But there was still hope in his mind as he stared at the closed doors of the delivery room. He had thought he would hear Mary scream through the entire hospital but he hardly heard her at all. No, Mary was a fighter, she was strong and she was resilient. She would come out of that room as if nothing had happened at all, a baby in her arms as if she had found it somewhere. There was still hope that his thoughts and feelings might change as soon as he would meet his child. Every father he had asked about that had told him that it happened for them too, after all. They all had seen their baby boys and daughters and suddenly their focus in life and their priorities had shifted dramatically.
Suddenly, nothing but the well-being of their children had mattered anymore, not the promotion at work, not that new car they always dreamed of having, not money or the big house they always wanted. They were all ready and eager to give their kids their everything in life, the whole world if nothing else and John had always admired this way of thinking. He had, in all honesty, hoped that he would feel the very same way when the day would come that he would become a father but now as he sat in this hallway, his hands folded underneath his chin in silent prayer, he didn't feel any different.
As the fifteenth hour of Mary's labor arrived, he felt a gush of wind ruffling through his hair and he was acutely aware of the fact that there were no windows in this hallway and no possible explanation for that wind in the first place. Maybe it was a sign of God, a voice inside his mind supplied, but he was quick to shake it off.
As the sixteenth hour arrived, it started to snow. Midnight was approaching in big steps by now. They had arrived around seven AM in this hospital and his child was still not here. As impatient as his child seemed to have been before, the more time it took now to arrive in this cruel and cold world. He couldn't really hold it against that kid. It was half-past eleven as he felt the same gush of wind as before and something prompted him to jump to his feet. His whole body was aching after sitting in the same place for sixteen and a half hours. This was worse than lying underneath some dirty rusty car for eight hours straight and yet John was aware that he had no right to complain. It was Mary who was doing the hard work.
He started pacing around on the hallway and some of the nurses that were passing by shot him sympathetic looks and smiles. Almost he was sure that his child would not arrive until the next day and he knew that his constant staring at the clock on the wall did not help it or quickened his child's arrival.
It was ten minutes before midnight, as the doors to the delivery room opened and an exhausted-looking nurse called out for him. All of the sudden, John Winchester felt small and unable to move. He felt as if nothing in this world could have prepared him for what was coming next - not even the war and all the horrors it had brought to his life and his dreams. As he made the first staggering steps towards those doors he felt like a small child that was approaching their dark closet at night, not knowing if the monster inside was already awake and eager to bite down on a child's arm as a midnight snack.
He didn't know what to expect as he stepped through those doors and he hardly even felt the gentle touch of the nurse's hand on his left biceps as she was guiding him inside. It was warm and his eyes rested solely on Mary's face. Her long golden hair was disheveled and messy and her face glistened with sweat and yet she looked more beautiful than she ever had. It was almost as if a light was shining straight out of her eyes, surrounding her like a halo perhaps. John had always been sure that he had married an angel but never more than in this moment as she smiled at him. The small bundle in her arms he noticed only after a second or two but there it was, wrapped up in a white towel, nestled close against Mary's chest.
»John« Mary breathed. She looked utterly exhausted and yet she had the strength left to smile at him proudly. »I want you to meet your son, Dean.« He didn't even care that his wife had decided to name their firstborn son after her mother of all people. They had never made the decision what name their first child would get. They had argued about it, but in the end, John had told his wife that she should decide on this matter because Mary always knew what was right.
His baby boy was small, smaller than most newborns he had ever seen in his life, his eyes were still closed as he was stepping closer and his face was pink and scrunched up. For a moment, he didn't even know what to do or say and was genuinely surprised as the nurse was stepping towards them again to take Dean from Mary's arms. He needed a moment to realize that she wanted to give Dean to him and a part of him wanted to run away screaming in terror as she did so. He was sure that he would break him and yet the women inside the room did not bat a lash as he took Dean in his arms gingerly, placing one hand securely under the small head. Suddenly, John felt as if he was holding the most precious and fragile thing in the entire universe. Had Dean looked small before, now he felt even smaller, tiny even. He weighed nothing to John and a part of him thought that this would probably never change. He would be able to carry his baby boy even when he would be an old man.
It felt like hours that he had Dean in his arms already but he was very aware that it was only a few seconds before Dean produced a huge yawn and opened his eyes. They were blue but even John Winchester knew that this would change soon. All babies were born with blue eyes and he couldn't wait to see what color they would adopt later on. Would they be green like his mother's eyes or brown like his eyes? Secretly, he hoped they would turn out green. »Heya Dean…« He mumbled quietly and Dean Winchester, his first-born son, looked as if he had the most miserable time of his life.
Four years later, his second son, Samuel, was born and unlike his big brother Dean, Sam was all too eager to be born as if he knew something was waiting for him in this life and had John Winchester known what it was that was waiting for him, he would have probably ended it right then and there. The births of his two sons couldn't have been more different. Sam had taken his time in the womb but rushed out of it as if there was a war to fight. He had been a big and heavy baby unlike his fragile big brother, whose eyes had indeed turned out green over the years. And while Dean had not really screamed after being pulled into this miserable world, Sam had come out screaming bloody murder. As different as their births had been the two boys turned out to be too.
John Winchester was a simple man. He had never dreamed of big achievements in his life, never dared to believe to be something but a soldier or a mechanic at best ever since his father had left him behind and never returned for him. He had never been a religious or God fearing man as well but all of that changed in the moment he had run into his baby son's bedroom to find his wife dead and burning on the ceiling.
-End of Chapter 1-