Dean
The following morning, Mary borrowed a lacy sundress from John's mother because she hadn't gone back to her own house… she didn't want to. She couldn't imagine seeing where her mother was murdered by the hands of her husband… or at least the demon that had been wearing his skin. The dress itself paisley and white, although Mary felt dirty and unclean – a woman baptized into a new life not by water but by blood.
John had blushed at her when she came downstairs and offered her coffee and breakfast. It was quiet in the Winchester home, and Mary was keenly reminded of the difference between their two families. The Winchesters were blue-collar everymen, their house the picture of working class Americana. She felt out of place and picked at her food awkwardly. It's what she always wanted, but now it was at her fingertips and she mourned the loss that allowed her to achieve it.
Her fiancé noticed this and he looked at her calmly, "You need something Mary?"
Her stomach clinched and she placed her hand over it. "I think I'm going to be sick," she said faintly.
John immediately helped her to the couch and sat down beside her. "We don't have to do this today Mary. You can take as much time as you need…" he reassured her.
Mary shook her head vehemently, knowing that she needed to… needed to do what? She blinked at John, he was all she needed now, and he was all she had. "No, I want to do this."
He drew in a breath, letting it go slowly. John squeezed her knee, "I'll be with you the whole time if you need me. My mom knows the… ummm… funeral director and so…" He stopped, struggling to find the words to say.
She nodded meekly and stood up with him. John went to the coat closet by the front door, and pulled out two coats for them. One was her own he had hung up the night before and one was a leather jacket Mary had never seen before. She watched him as he put it on, the way it rested on his shoulders and the way he popped the collar in the back… just as…
The night before… these past few days… the man, the other hunter she had met was wearing the same one, or at least one just like it. "Where did you get that?" Mary asked curiously.
"This? I bought it a few weeks ago. Not long after I got back." He suddenly looked very self-conscious and looked himself over, "You don't think it's inappropriate do you? I can change into something else."
"No, it's fine John," she smiled, "You're perfect."
Mary had tried, she had, but it seemed she couldn't get those nights out of her head. Occasionally she still had panic attacks while that John just sleeping, and in her own dreams she replayed his death over and over until John woke her up. It wasn't always her father snapping his neck either, sometimes it was a black dog or some other demon. Sometimes he would just collapse and Mary wouldn't be able to wake him up. More and more though it was fire. The brightest, most brilliant flames she had ever imagined, but in the center of it all would be John. She would cry, and he would ask why, but she couldn't tell him.
She couldn't escape it anyway, in five years that had passed she had married John and he had started his own business with a friend of his. But it was always in the back of her mind – the deal she made, and the hunter who vanished soon afterwards. Those years brought wild thoughts and theories to the young woman, many of which she dismissed just as quickly as they came, but he knew her and above all else she knew that her deal was important.
1983… ten years… the connection was there, but Mary didn't know what it was.
There was a new woman in town, and her cousin told her that she was the real deal. One day, with a thought gnawing on her mind she screwed herself up to go see her. John was at the garage and Mary didn't have any chores to do so it was a good opportunity to visit the woman. She grabbed John's jacket from his closest, and marched out the front door.
The woman wasn't hard to find, sitting at a booth in the local diner. The black woman looked a few years younger than her and she seemed to regard Mary passively.
"Mary Winchester, it's nice to meet you. I'm Missouri Mosely."
"Tell me something about the owner of this jacket," she demanded, tossing it on Missouri's lap, taking the bench opposite of the psychic.
"You mean besides the fact you think it was, or will be owned by an angel?"
Mary nodded curtly.
"Certainly no angel, Missy," Missouri scoffed, "Just that cute husband of yours."
"I thought you were psychic," Mary said impatiently.
"Baby I am," the woman protested, "Just because I can see things others can't doesn't mean I can see the future."
"Dean said something about 1983… that has to mean something. He knew about the demon, he knew something about five years from now." Mary said with a growing edge to her voice.
Missouri frowned thoughtfully, "You said his name was Dean? Wasn't your mother named Deanna?"
"Yeah why?"
The psychic closed her eyes and drew in a sharp breath. She waded through the volatile mix of emotions Mary had gone through before a scene formed in her mind. The boy was cute, that much was sure… but there was something else too.
"You know the worst thing I can think of? The very worst thing? Is for my children to be raised into this like I was. Well I won't let that happen."
Missouri's eyes snapped open, a single string of thoughts from the man fresh on her mind. Raw emotion of regret and sadness, like the realization of a horrible fate. That Mary wouldn't get that wish. That she was wrong. And she was the reason.
It was undeniable and instantly Missouri wished she didn't know. She looked at Mary sadly, the young blonde woman already with heavy sadness on her heart. It would break her, the psychic feared, so she held her tongue and lied, "I'm sorry honey, I don't know who the boy was."
"I'm going to find out who and where he is," Mary said adamantly, more to herself than anyone else. She stood up, taking the jacket from Missouri. "I'll turn over every damn leaf if I have to."
Missouri stood alongside her, "Mary baby, Dean's not here. I don't think he was even there in the first place… maybe he is your own angel trying to protect you because it seems he certainly tried that night." She laid a hand on Mary's shoulder, a whisper of emotion tingling her fingers and her palm. Missouri raised her eyebrow and asked, "Are you pregnant Mary?"
"What?" Mary asked in return, just as surprised as Missouri was. "No, I'm not… I mean… John and I are trying but…"
Missouri sighed sadly, "It's gonna be a boy. And he's going to be just like your angel when he grows up."
"My children aren't going to be hunters," Mary promised, her eyes narrowing. She paused, "And I thought you couldn't see the future?"
Missouri smiled and deflected by saying, "I think you better go find yourself a pregnancy test, although I'm pretty sure." Missouri gathered her own coat, placed money on the table for her food and left Mary there.
Mary touched her abdomen, wondering if there was truth to the psychic's words. Pulling her hand back she saw she was shaking. Her own little angel. Hadn't she prayed for this for months? Years? Before… before everything happened? For a moment she wondered if this was a sign for her to finally move on, after all, she was going to have a baby? Proof of a new life, one created by her and… and the man she brought back from the dead – not just a new life for her and John but for their son.
She looked at the jacket, praying that the hazel-eyed man would watch over her child.
She had gone home with an armful of tests, although in her experience she figured the psychic was telling the truth. Systematically using each test, she grew more and more anxious. Euphoria mixed with anticipation and fear, the second hand on the clock moving too slowly to when John would be home.
Finally when she couldn't take it anymore she called John at the garage. Her husband's gruff but warm voice answered. "Hey John," she twisted the phone's cord around her finger nervously, "Can you come home early today?"
Instantly John's voiced changed to a hurried anxiety, "Is everything alright Mary?"
"Yes, I mean, I hope… I don't know," She sighed, she didn't want to tell him over the phone… "Just, I want you home…"
John paused for a second before replying, "I'll be right there."
Mary stood up from the couch when John walked through the door. He immediately tensed but she smiled at him, her eyes glistening with tears.
"Mary?"
"John," she sighed happily. He walked over to her, and held her shoulders. She opened up her palm, holding up a pregnancy test for John to see.
"Is that…?"
She nodded. John broke out into the widest smile she had ever seen on him. He held her chin and kissed her. They both laughed as John lifted her up and spun her around.
"My God Mary… when did you…? This is…"
"Wonderful?" She asked. He kissed her again.
"Do we need to go to the doctor? Should we call your uncle and cousin? God Mary this…" He collapsed on the couch. "Holy crap," he sighed.
She curled up beside him, placing her hand on her husband's heart as she always did, an unconscious reassurance for her. The pulse was fast and strong. She smiled as he returned the gesture, before he slid his hand down her body to her stomach. Mary held his hand there, grateful for John, grateful for her unborn child.
He would have everything she ever wanted for him. She would spare him the pain and heartbreak she had as a child. Just like for her husband, Mary wanted to be a shield against the things that threatened to take her family away. He wouldn't know fear or suffer the same loss, just love.
"I love you Mary," John said softly.
"I love you too John." She looked her husband in the eyes, the light catching them so the flecks of gold and green were brilliant against light brown. "It's going to be a boy," she said firmly.
"Just like that?" John laughed, "You know that already? Is he also going to be six feet tall and captain of the baseball team?"
"Yeah…" Mary sighed happily.
"We'll see," John replied, lacing his fingers with hers.
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Leave a review! And I'm assuming ya'll know where I'm heading with this. One chapter for each member haha, I'll have "Mary" up in 2-3 days.