Summary: What if Mary took Dean and Sam's advice and left John? What if she never told him she was pregnant? What if Sam didn't exist? What would happen to Dean in that case? Would Mary survive? Would Dean have a good life? Here is the answer.

Might involve some lemons in later chapters.

I don't own Dean or Mary, and please, let me know what you think.

I opened my eyes and looked at the ceiling for a moment before I climbed out of bed. Then I stumbled into the bathroom. The good thing is that it's connected to my bedroom, so I didn't have to walk for long. Which is a good thing, because I'm like really tired in the mornings.

Like, really, really tired.

I took a quick shower to wake up properly, and then walked into my bedroom again to get dressed. I then took a shortcut through the bathroom into J.J's room. We shared a bathroom, just like everything else. Not that it always was a good thing to share a bathroom with her.

Her real name wasn't J.J, but it's the name everyone calls her. Always had, and probably always will.

I walked into her room, and found her sitting on her window ledge. It was one of those big one's, where someone could easily fit. I had the same in my room, but I never used it.

But that window was her favorite place in the whole house.

"I'm not going," she said before I even had the chance to open my mouth. But she knew why I was there. I mean, we had known each other since we were seven. We had lived on the same street since we were nine.

But now she lived here, and she had for a year. Tomorrow.

"You're going," I told her simply.

"It's a year tomorrow, Dean," she looked at me. Her long, chocolate brown hair was up in a messy bun. And her hazel eyes, framed by black, long eyelashes, were staring straight into mine.

"Tomorrow you can be all depressed, but not now. Not today. Today you're not even going to think about it," I told her and she sighed. It wasn't working. But I knew it wouldn't.

I mean, she lived here for a reason. Tomorrow was exactly a year from the day her mother and little sister had died. Her father was already in a coma by then, and he had been for a few months.

There had been a car accident, and Jennie had been in the car. But she walked out alive, with just a few scratches if you compared to her Mom and sister.

As soon as I found out, I talked to Mom. She didn't need much convincing on why J.J should live here, with us. But that's the way Mom was.

J.J lost her whole family that day, so she had all the right to be depressed tomorrow. But I wouldn't let her today. Not if I could make her feel okay for another day.

"You wanna know a secret?" I asked. She bit her lip, and I continued.

"Last night, Mom told me she's pregnant. It's weird. I don't hate her husband, you know that, but it's still weird. I mean, I'm seventeen. And I'm getting a little brother. Or sister. Or, y'know."

I sort of considered Mom's husband, Keith, to be my a father's figure. I had never met my Dad, and Mom and Keith had been married for four years, but together for six. And it shouldn't have been that big of a surprise to hear that Mom's pregnant. She's only thirty eight. She's still young. Sort of.

J.J smiled, and I knew she was in a better mood.

"C'mon, Freckles, we have school."

"Only if you stop calling me that," she replied and I chuckled. She hated my nickname for her, but I would never stop calling her that. I had called her that since we were ten, and she realized she had freckles. She hated them, but she didn't have to. I couldn't picture her without them, even though they weren't many and you had to be really close to actually see them.

"You know I won't," I commented and she sighed but moved from the window. She let her hair out, and it fell loosely over her shoulders and ended right below her breasts.

She pulled the legs of her gray jogging pants up so that they ended right below her knee. She was already wearing a white, tight tank top and I was able to see the black edge of her briefs, and the letters 'Frank Dandy'.

This is the way she was usually dressed on her bad days. On her good days, she would wear jeans or skirts, and she definitely wouldn't pull on her zip hoodie like she did now.

Man, I hated that hoodie. It always felt like she was hiding behind it. And she was.

I really wouldn't have minded the way she was dressed if it wasn't for that frigging hoddie. J.J didn't have to wear tight jeans or short skirts to be sexy.

And believe me; she was.

To my friends, well Liam, it wasn't that big of a secret that I had a crush on her. More than a crush. He saw how I looked at her when she walked away, or when she looked away. I've had those feelings for her for almost a year. And the only person close to me who didn't see it was her. And I wouldn't tell her.

We were too good friends for that.

I usually only spent time with guys, but J.J had always been there. She had been my best friends for years, and if I told her then I would just ruin that.

And I was pretty much the only one she had that was close. At least nowadays.

"C'mon then," she told me and pulled the hood up so that I could barely see her eyes.

We grabbed something to eat, and then walked out the door. We didn't have far to school, and it only took us about five minutes to see the sign of this small town's High School.

The day passed quickly, and as we reached gym, J.J walked off like I knew she would. I watched her pull her hair up again before she and the other girls sat down on the bleachers.

"Stop swooning over her and get over here," Liam called and I jogged over to them. I really hated basketball, and I would much rather sit next to J.J and talk.

After half of the class, I glanced toward her and saw that a teacher was talking to her. She was too far away for me to see her face, but she suddenly grabbed her bag and ran off and out of the gym.

Something was wrong. I don't know what it was, but I wanted to know. I couldn't just run off like she did to find her, so I would have to find her after school if she didn't return. But my gut told me that she wouldn't.

I was distracted the rest of the class, and as I changed again I quickly took my cellphone out to call her. Her phone was turned off. So I wrote her a text instead, and told her to call me.

As everyone around me at lunch talked, I was mostly quiet. Olivia had her arm around my waist as she had her face toward her friends. They were babbling about something. I really didn't care to listen.

Olivia was... I was with her just because. My feelings for her had faded when I fell for J.J, but since I knew I couldn't be with her, I had never called it off with Olivia. I know I should have, but it didn't feel as petty to be with someone than to be single and want someone you can't have.

Olivia thought I wanted her, but I wanted Jennie Jaquelin Walker. She had the lips I wanted to kiss, the hair I wanted to pull my fingers through, she had the face I wanted to cup... She's the one I imagined while whacking off in the shower. She was what I wanted.

The day continued with a slow pace. Too slow. And when my day was finally over, Olivia had to slow it down even more.

She was waiting by my locker as I walked up to it, still waiting for J.J to call. Or at least text me.

Olivia snaked herself around me, and bit her lip, trying to be sexy. It wasn't working. Not one bit.

"Vi, I gotta go," I told her, closing my locker again.

"We'll be all alone at my place. All night," she murmured, wrapping her arms around my neck. Man, that would have worked any day. I'm a guy; I don'r have to have feelings for anyone to get laid. Although it was definitely helpful.

I almost winced as I felt her hand grab my ass, but I ignored it where it was. And then I removed it.

"I really have to go," I told her and removed her from me.

"Is this about her?" she suddenly asked, her blue eyes glowering.

"About who?"

"Who do you think? J.J of course."

"I'm worried about her," I confessed and she glowered even more.

"Everything is about her. I mean, you live with her! You see her every second! What's so special about her?"

What's special about her? Everything. She's kindhearted, strong-minded, tenacious, mature, she can make me laugh, she can make me feel better, she's curious, childish, beautiful, simple, complicated, tough, sensitive, and most importantly, I can be myself around her. I don't have to hide behind a frigging mask when I'm with her. She makes everything easy.

"We're done," I said simply and watched her shocked expression.

"W-w-what?" she stuttered out and I snorted.

"We are done. We're gonna see each other in school, but I don't want to talk to you again."

"I thought you loved me," her voice was small, but I couldn't find it in me to feel sorry for her.

"I never loved you, Olivia. I cared about you, but I haven't for a long time. I know it's not fair to you, and I know I should have done it a long time ago. But I'm doing it now."

I watched her for a short second before I turned around and stalked off.

As I got home, I saw Mom in the kitchen.

"Is J.J here?" I asked quickly, and she watched me.

"No, shouldn't she be with you?" she wondered, and I was out the door without saying a word. If J.J wasn't home, then she was at the hospital. And it made sense. She wouldn't run off like that if it wasn't about her father.

So I hurried to the hospital, not knowing what to expect. It could be anything.

I took the stairs to the right floor, and I quickly found the right room. But I didn't enter. The room was surrounded by windows, so I could see into the room.

J.J was sitting in a chair next to the bed, a gentle smile on her face as she talked. Her father was sitting up, talking with her. So he was awake.

I was about to turn around and leave, to give them privacy, but J.J noticed me and waved me in. So I walked to the door and walked inside.

"Dad, you remember Dean," J.J said and he looked at me. He probably saw that I was nervous. He was sort of scary to talk to. Intimidating.

"Hi, sir," I said and sat down in another chair.

"I've told you not to call me that," he answered me and I heard J.J chuckle.

Yes, he had told me that. I hadn't met him many times in the years J.J and I had known each other, but there was a reason behind that. He just wasn't home that often, even though he wanted to be.

"Sorry, Greg. It's a reflex," I stated and this time he chuckled.

Both J.J and I sat there for an hour before she wanted something to drink so she left the room for a short moment. But it was enough time for Greg and I to talk.

"You're still good friends," he stated and I nodded before he continued. "Good. I need you to take care of her."

"You don't think you're gonna make it," I stated this time and he shook his head.

"I told the doctors not to tell her, but it doesn't look good. Being in a coma for a year changes things. Apparently I have... I couldn't understand the term, but there is a chance I will slip back into a coma. Or die from the injuries."

I didn't like how he so casually could talk about it. Like he wasn't even afraid of dying.

"You're not afraid?"

"I've never been scared of death, and when I found out about my wife and Julia I wished for it. But Jennie is alive, and I need to be here as much as I can for her sake. The only thing I'm afraid of is what my death will do to her when it does come."

"Why won't you tell her?" It was clear to me that he didn't want her to know what he told me. But she deserved to know.

"I don't want her to worry about me. She's done that enough for the past seventeen years."

"But she deserves to know."

"She also deserves to know how you feel about her. I see how you look at my daughter, and you haven't told her. You should."

That shocked me. He had only seen me with her for an hour, and he had already seen how I looked at her? He had already figured out how I felt about her?

I didn't have time to answer him, because J.J came back and a few moments later I left. It was time to eat, and I was hungry. I didn't have to ask J.J if she would stay or not, because I knew she would.

I heard my bedroom door open and turned off the TV when I saw J.J walk inside. I got up so that I sat up instead, and she sat down opposite to me. She held two glasses in her hand.

"I feel like getting drunk," she admitted and I got up from my bed. I opened my closet door and searched through the pile of clothes for the alcohol. It's the only place Mom wouldn't look, so it's the only place I could stash it.

I quickly found the bottle of Bacardi, and closed my closet again. I found my way back to the bed, and poured it into the two glasses without saying a word. J.J just looked at me.

When I put the bottle on the floor she finished her glass in just a few seconds. Like she was drinking water. I had never seen her like this. She didn't usually drink, and when she did, it was never this fast. She could still be on her first glass when I was on my second or third.

I followed her lead and finished the whole glass in one sweep, and then filled the glasses again. I had a feeling that we were going to get drunk. Good thing it's Saturday tomorrow.

"He's in a coma again," she whispered and I looked at her.

"You got two days together," I stated, trying to make her feel a little bit better. If that was possible.

"Yeah, but I don't know if that makes it better or harder."

An hour later I could feel the alcohol getting to my head, which was a bad thing. Because I get really talky when I'm drunk. And I can say almost everything. Even though I don't really want to.

"So why did you really break up with her?" she asked, and I couldn't stop myself when I told her. I had told J.J yesterday that I had broken up with Olivia, but I didn't want to give her an answer when she asked me why.

I did now though. Her father told me she deserved to know, and maybe she did.

"I love you."

She smiled softly. "I love you too."

Yeah, but not the way I meant. She thought I meant I loved her like a friend. It was more than that now. I did love her that way before, but now I was in love with her.

I didn't know how to explain it to her, so I grabbed her face and pulled it to mine. I kissed her full lips and I basked in the feeling. It didn't last long though, because she pulled her head back and met my eyes.

"I love you like that," I told her, and knew that I would probably be regretting this for the rest of my life. But I still couldn't let go of the feeling of having her lips against mine.

She stared at me for a moment, her eyes shocked and surprised. Then she got up from the bed and left my room. And I knew she wouldn't come back, so I poured myself another glass and drank it.