Rating: PG
Season 10
Spoiler: Season 10
Genre: Angst
Content: A peek into the past of Rowena and Fergus MacLeod
Disclaimer: All characters and all rights of Supernatural belong to Warner Brothers Entertainment Inc. This Fanfiction was written for entertainment purposes only, I am not making money out of it. All similarities with persons alive or dead are coincidence.
Just an ordinary boy
Chapter 2 – A mother's love
September 1661
"It's a strong little boy!" Agatha smiled. The child screamed off the top of its squawky voice.
Rowena had had to give birth to her child without the help of a midwife or any female relatives. Everyone knew the child's soul was doomed.
Nobody dared to get near the little loam house at the far end of the village where the young woman had to move in.
Her next door neighbor Agatha was the only one kind enough to speak to her.
The poor woman herself had just recently given birth to a crippled boy which was seen as a sign that Agatha also had made a pact with Satan.
On seeing that wee crippled foot of little Freddie, her husband had left immediately as the boy saw his first daylight.
Agatha wrapped the baby in a clean cloth and handed it to its crying, sweating mother.
"He is beautiful, isn't he?" the neighbor asked, a hint of jealousy vibrating in those words.
Rowena stared at the little bundle, incapable of reaching for it. She was exhausted. She smelled her own sweat and the odor of copper resulting from her own blood. She didn't feel a thing; no pride or joy. All she could think was "Thank God, it's over."
"C'mon, he won't bite!" Agatha grinned, misinterpreting her reluctance to hold the child.
She reached for him more for the fact that this was expected of her than the will to look at the cause of all the trouble in her life.
She envied little Freddie who either must have had the sleep of a saint or was given with his crippled foot also deafness since he had slept the whole time while she was in child labour.
"You are right, he is a strong wee man," Rowena faked a smile when the boy clenched his tiny fists. He was light as a feather and smelled much better than she did after all this.
Agatha had tried to clean him up but some blood stains had remained on his cheek and head.
'My blood,' she thought.
'That's what they do, don't they? Kids, they make you bleed.' She didn't dare speak that out loud but it kind of made sense. She had lost everything because of him; her family, her Clan, her independence- if there ever had been such a thing for her. Now these tiny pink fingers tried to grasp for even more: her future.
"How are you going to call him?" Agatha asked curiously.
"Fer – gus," she mumbled, the Gaelic "strong man". That name was as good as any other and that way she wouldn't have to waste another thought on that matter.
"Sorry?" Agatha enquired.
"Fergus, that's a fitting name, don't you think?" Rowena faked another smile.
"Yes, that is in fact a very fitting name," Agatha's smile seemed to reach both her ears. She wasn't the brightest person but surely she had a very good heart- a character trait Rowena would surely put to use.