Spoiler to episode - 5.16


Chapter 2


May 5th, 1983

Everything had gone perfectly, and now three days later – Mary and John were bringing home the newest addition to their family, their newest son Sam Winchester.

So far he'd been wonderful, Mary had to admit. He wasn't very fussy as Dean had been, instead he looked around at his surroundings almost curiously, making cute little baby squeals every once in a while.

John had been awfully quiet over the last few days. He would look down at his new son as he held them, and couldn't help but wonder what this one would change into.

It was driving him insane, and he wasn't entirely sure how to deal with it. Mary had gone above and beyond for him by not being mad, and accepting what he had to say, no matter how far-fetched it sounded. But John wasn't sure he was able to live with this.

He loved his boys, but he wasn't sure he could live with his own guilt for condemning them to a life that was different from the other kids around them.

And they would be different, John realized sadly. He and Mary had Dean enrolled into a pretty good Kindergarten program, but now that he's realized his differences – could the risk him staying in school with other kids? Should they home-school him and his brother when he's old enough?

It wasn't like he could just force his children to not live their lives, though. Eventually they'd get out and meet people. Hell, maybe they'll find girls and begin to trust them so much that they entrust their secrets to them. What would John do then? Would he sit back and watch silently while his boys passed their curse on?

Would this curse ever end?

John would never say he regretted having children, because he didn't. Dean and Sam were great, and more than he could have ever hoped for as a father.

But their future scared the hell out of him, and he wasn't sure what he could do about it…if he could do anything at all.

Now John sat in his living room on his recliner chair with his feet propped up and a beer held lazily in his hands as his eyes tried to focus on the black and white program on the television.

Mary was upstairs with Sam getting the baby ready for his bath, while Dean was running around the house somewhere trying to be helpful probably.

Well, at least that's what John thought – until there was a sudden gentle tug on the sleeve of his shirt, trying to get his attention.

John's head turned sluggishly toward the gentle pressure and saw his very human looking eldest son looking up at him with big green eyes and a smile that could light a city block.

"What's up, champ?" John asked halfheartedly, keeping his eyes on Dean as he finally ceased his tugging.

"It's almost Sammy's bedtime." Dean informed matter-of-factly.

"It is…" John confirmed, not really understanding what Dean was getting at.

"We should go say goodnight to him, dad." Dean said hopefully.

John sighed as he looked over at the large clock hanging on the wall above the television. It was only seven-o-clock, definitely time for babies to sleep – although Dean's bedtime wasn't for another hour. He guessed he shouldn't upset Dean, and play along.

"Alright, is mommy done giving the baby a bath?" John asked Dean with a sleepy yawn.

"Almost," Dean informed him proudly, "I set out his pajamas for him on yours and mommy's bed so he can get dressed once he's all cleaned up."

"Good job, sport." John praised with a halfhearted smile as he pushed himself to his feet, and out of his chair.

Dean appreciated the kind words from his father happily, and led his father up the stairs to his and Mary's bedroom.

John couldn't have been more proud of Dean. He had really fallen into his role as the big brother. It almost seemed like second nature to him, like it was his job in life to make sure Sam was happy and taken care of.

It would be a crying shame when Dean grew up and made his own friends, leaving Sam behind to grow up for himself. After all, there was a four year distance between them – Dean and Sam probably wouldn't have the same group of friends.

Hell, maybe they would – John considered. Maybe they'd never grow apart, especially if John and Mary decided to home-school them.

John scooped Dean up into his arms as he headed up the stairs, skipping every other step. Dean giggled the entire ride up the stairs, and John couldn't help but smile at that sound. It was almost like nothing was different about him in that moment, and all he was, was a four year old boy going to see his little brother.

But once they were in John and Mary's bedroom, John placed Dean back down onto his feet as his eyes found his wife holding their newest son with a loving look in her eyes as she stared at the tiny bundle in her hands.

"Everything okay?" John wondered aloud as Dean kept trying to climb up on their bed to get a better look at his brother.

John made a quick grab for Dean as he tried to stand on the bed, and placed him back on the floor with a stern look.

"Don't do that, Dean. You could hurt yourself." John warned.

Dean blushed and whispered a soft apology as he resorted to trying to see Sam on his tippy toes. But his mother was still taller than him, so it wasn't really working.

Ignoring their exchange, Mary turned to John with a halfhearted chuckle. "Everything's fine, John. It's time to put Sammy to bed."

Nodding, John followed his wife and eldest son out of the room and down the hall to where Sam's nursery had been set up.

John stood in the threshold of the baby blue painted room, while Mary and Dean headed toward the crib in middle of the room.

Mary gently placed their child stomach down over the white blankets, and watched as he squirmed around for a moment, trying to get comfortable.

Dean continued to stand on his toes to try and see his brother, with his tiny hands wrapped around the bars of the crib. Mary and John's eldest son let out a small whimper, which sounded alarmingly animalistic – John noticed with wide eyes.

Mary didn't seem to notice, or she just didn't care as she lifted Dean up by his waist and lowered him into the crib with a smile on her face – never letting go of her son. Dean leaned into the crib, and gave Sam a tiny kiss goodnight on his forehead.

"G'night, Sammy!" Dean yipped excitedly as Mary hoisted her eldest son back out of the crib and on his feet on the hardwood floor.

Satisfied that he had finally been able to give his little brother a proper goodnight, Dean trotted off into the other room to go get himself ready for bed.

Mary looked down at Sam with a smile on her face before turning to John expectantly. "Well?"

"Well, what?" John asked, looking slightly confused.

"Aren't you going to say goodnight to your son, John?" Mary asked suddenly looking a little hurt and offended.

John looked at his wife, before glancing at the crib which contained his now fussing youngest child. He sighed at the little baby noises before creeping over to the crib.

Mary smiled at him with a reassuring nod, silently telling him that there was nothing wrong – and that everything would be okay.

John took in a deep steadying breath before he managed to bring himself to look down into the crib, at the other child he's probably condemned to a life far different from normal.

He looked down at his child, and instantly his throat constricted in fear as a coldness ran through his body causing his heart to hammer in his chest, which he felt all the way to his skull. In the crib wasn't the little baby he had just seen Mary place neatly, but a fussing, roaring black bear cub.

Instantly, John stumbled backwards taken aback until he hit the wall. His eyes instantly traveled to Mary who was looking at him with a smile on her suddenly wicked face.

"What's wrong, John?" Mary questioned sweetly.

xXx

John startled awake in a cold sweat, with his eyes wide and his breathing ragged. That dream had seemed so real, John thought to himself as he scrubbed his hand over his face.

He was still downstairs in the living room with the television on, sitting in his recliner chair. John looked at the clock, and saw that it just a little past one in the morning. He just fell asleep watching television, apparently.

Well, no more television before bed – he decided with a sigh as he reached for the remote on the table next to his chair, and turned the television off.

Instantly, the living room was ten times darker and all noises around him instantly died down till his ears started to ring from the sudden silence.

John continued to sit in his chair though, he made no move to get up to get up and go to his own bed with his wife. He couldn't bring himself to do it just yet. He needed to think about what he was going to do.

He knew he couldn't break this curse, hell if it was doable wouldn't someone have done it by now?

It seemed his children were condemned, and it was all his fault.

What bothered John just as much though was that Mary didn't seem the least bit phased by any of this. He had told her that their children were freaks, and she didn't get the least bit upset. This in turn, made John upset. What could she possibly be thinking of him?

This was driving him insane, John thought to himself as he inhaled deeply before exhaling slowly to steady his shaking hands. He was becoming increasingly more frustrated by the moment.

Hell, his children could change into animals! What use was that to anyone?

If I wanted a couple of pets, I would have gotten 'em.

That harsh thought surfaced in John's mind before he had a moment to even process it. He instantly regretted it, even though he never said it out loud. He knew his mind was just a poisonous environment around his wife and children, no matter how strange they were.

And in that moment, John knew what he had to do – no matter how hard it would be, he knew it was right for him.

xXx

John gently nudged his wife awake with his soft hands, and a certain dread behind his eyes. Mary was beautiful and the most wonderful person he had ever known, she didn't deserve this.

Mary groaned and rolled over to face what was trying to force her to wake up. Her eyes slid open sluggishly, and after a moment of processing what was going on – she realized it was her husband, only he looked so distraught.

"What's up?" Mary asked sleepily, "Is it the baby?"

"No, Mary…Sam and Dean are fast asleep." John replied, his voice hitching as his emotions ran high.

Mary got a better look at her husband as she forced herself into a sitting position, and noticed he was fully dressed in his blue flannel, and brown leather jacket and jeans. But what caught her attention specifically was the suitcase he held in his hand, tightly.

"Where are you going?" Mary questioned, her eyes now lit up with worry.

John hesitated, looking absolutely miserable. How could he word this so she would understand? How could he just tell her that he was leaving her and their babies because he was a coward, but still loved them more than they would ever know?

He sighed deeply and just spit it out the best he could. "I'm gonna stay at The Pines for a couple of nights, Mare."

Mary's eyes widened as realization dawned on her. Her husband was leaving her and their children; he was just dumping them here and running.

"The motel? Why?" Mary demanded, her quivered with anger and overwhelming sadness.

"I can't do this, Mary." John admitted as his voice began to shake behind the effort of keeping his tears at bay, "I can't watch our boys grow up like this, only to have their kids go through the same fear I went through every day."

"You're kidding me, right?" Mary demanded, her anger now overweighing her sadness. "You're afraid? That's why you're leaving?"

"This isn't easy." John informed her, his voice raising a little to try and drill what he was saying into her head, "I love you and the boys more than you think. That's why I have to leave."

"That's the biggest load of crap I've ever heard." Mary spat, "You're a coward, that's why you're leaving."

"I'm leaving because I am afraid." John admitted, "I'm afraid, and you're not. I know I won't be as good a father to them as you are a mother."

"This isn't a competition, John!" Mary snapped, her voice raising to yelling levels. "We're raising two boys, here! As a team!"

"I can't, Mary." John said sadly, "I just can't…I'm so sorry."

And without another word, John turned out of the room with the suitcase in his hands and headed toward the stairs.

This really was the hardest thing he's ever had to do, John thought to himself as his tears began to fall past his guard.

xXx

June 15th, 1983

Mary had been with her boys alone for over a month now. John would call every once in a while, when he wasn't completely drunk out of his mind. But for the most part, Mary had been alone.

It was hard at first, the morning after John left – Dean had woken up to find his dad gone, and didn't really know what to think about it. Sure he was upset, but it was clear that his mother was just as upset, if not more. So Dean did his best to try and make his mom feel better.

Dean took it upon himself to take care of Sam as much as possible. When his mom dozed off for a couple of minutes in the day, and the Baby Monitor starts going off – Dean would warm up a bottle and feed his little brother.

It didn't take Dean too long to figure out how to maneuver the bars of Sammy's crib, so he could get to his brother.

Dean had asked his mother once or twice why his dad was gone. But Mary would just say that he didn't understand how special he and Sam were.

He wasn't an idiot, Dean thought to himself. He knew he was different, he knew it the moment he had turned into an animal. His mom had later told him he was a fox, but he didn't really understand what it meant.

After he changed the first time, with that raging headache – he felt something weird inside him suddenly shift. And without having to be told about it, he knew that he could change into the fox whenever he wanted.

But he didn't. He knew it upset his parents the first time.

Mary was so grateful that Dean was so wonderful. She couldn't have asked for a better son.

Every once in a while that thought would cross her mind, and then her thoughts would wander to John. How could he be so afraid of children who are so wonderful? It made no sense.

Now, Mary was standing in the kitchen in the early afternoon making Dean his lunch – a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, just something simple.

Dean was in his room playing with his little remote control racecar track by himself for a little while. He had just checked on Sammy, and was satisfied to see the baby was still napping.

He seemed to do a lot of that, Dean noticed. But his mom had explained to him when Sammy first came home that babies sleep a lot, so he guessed that wasn't too out of the ordinary.

A moment later, there was a gentle tapping on his door – pulling him from his thoughts. There, standing in the threshold of his bedroom stood his mom looking at him happily.

Dean smiled back, he liked seeing his mom happy – he knows it means he's done his job.

"Dean," She called sweetly, "How 'bout some lunch?"

Dean nodded as he got to his feet before putting down his remote control and trotted off after his mother down the stairs toward the kitchen.

Upon entering the kitchen, Dean took his usual seat at the table as his mother went to the counter and grabbed his sandwich, an empty glass, and a carton of milk.

Mary looked down at her son with the biggest smile. He sat at the table with a content little smile on his face as his tiny legs which barely touched the ground kicked back and forth.

She had gone shopping the other day, and bought this shirt for him she thought would be adorable. She was right.

He was wearing it now, and it was the cutest thing. On the shirt was a little bear with writing beneath it reading, "I Wuv Hugs".

Corny as it may be, she could still get away with buying him these ridiculously adorable outfits and he would wear them without saying a word.

But to spare him at least a little dignity, she allowed him to put on his black and white plaid flannel on top of the shirt.

Mary placed the sandwich and the empty glass in front of Dean, once she had a bit more room with her hands, she popped open the carton of milk, and poured some into the glass.

When she decided his glass was full enough, her eyes caught her sons' with her smile still intact. "Do you want the crusts cut off?"

"Yeah, I'd love that." Dean agreed with a jerky nod.

Mary put the carton of milk down on the table, and lifted the butter knife, and began to carve the dark crusts off her sons' white bread sandwich.

Once all four edges were off, she patted her sons' head, and walked back over to the counter to warm up a bottle for Sam. He should be waking up from his nap soon.

To her surprise, the chorded phone on the kitchen wall began to ring. She glanced at her son to make sure he was eating peacefully before she answered the phone, holding it to her ear. She already had a feeling who this might be.

"Hello?" She answered, tiredly.

"Come on, Mary – I need to talk to you." John pleaded.

Mary sighed deeply, she could hear the drunken slur in his voice. She didn't want to talk with him when he was like this.

"No John." Mary said flatly, "I'm not having this conversation again with you."

"Please, I'm sorry – I just needed time to think!" John practically begged.

She could hear the tears in his voice, but she forced herself not to get emotional. Not in front of her son.

"Think about what?" Mary demanded in a harsh whisper, "You have two boys at home."

"It's just so hard, I couldn't handle it – I still don't know if I can…" John's voice trailed off, as his throat constricted while he tried to hold back his tears.

"Fine, then don't." Mary interjected, knowing he wasn't finished talking, "There's nothing more to talk about."

And with that, she slammed the phone down on the receiver – hanging up on her husband's drunken rambling.

Mary put her hands on the counter, to support her upper body as she sagged a little with a deep sigh. She didn't want to break down in front of Dean, she couldn't.

But suddenly he was at her side with his big green eyes looking up at her seriously. She looked down at him and gasped as he caught a lone tear slide down her cheek.

Without even thinking about it, Dean leaned in and gave his mother the biggest hug he could muster.

"It's okay, mom." Dean assured her with deep sincerity, "Dad still loves you. I love you, too…I'll never leave you."

Mary returned the hug, with a sigh. Dean was so good, almost too good. How could she possibly be so lucky to have such a child?

When they pulled away, she caressed his cheek with a loving smile on her face. "You are my little angel."

Dean didn't say anything; he only smiled back at his mom as she quickly gathered herself.

She sniffled for a moment, and asked in an attempt to get off the subject – "How 'bout some pie?"

Dean nodded at the idea of the sweet treat, knowing his mother had just baked a blueberry pie just last night.

Mary nodded, and turned away from Dean as she busied herself getting Dean a slice of pie, and warming up Sam's bottle.

Despite John walking out on her and her sons, Mary had to admit – she was probably one of the luckiest people in the world.


Anyone see where I went with this? Haha.

Sorry this chapter was pretty dull, but it's important in the long run - I swear.

And also - I know, that John was supposedly gone for 'a couple of days', but I decided to prolong that just to add to the angst. Ugh. Haha.