Wow. Time sure flies when you're having fun, doesn't it? Of course, the due date is looming and the brothers figure it's about time to head back to Kayla's place. That's right. The moment you've all been waiting for. It's time for baby's grand entrance.
On that happy note, I'd just like to, once again, thank everyone who's bothering to review. I have very low self-esteem so it really helps to keep me writing!
The door to the small apartment was thrown open to reveal a very perturbed witch. "It's about time you got here," Kayla barked, eyes roving over Dean, "come in."
"You, uh, expecting someone else?" Sam asked as he followed his brother through the doorway.
"Maybe," she sighed, running a hand through her hair and shaking her head, "I don't know."
"So, you're just always in a bitchy mood, then?" Dean offered.
The witch turned, eyes narrowed. "There's a storm coming," she whispered, "something building in this area. I can sense it. I really don't want to be here when it starts."
The brothers glanced at each other. "Should we be worried?" Dean asked, concern apparent in his eyes, hand resting on his stomach.
"No," Kayla smiled, "I don't think so. I'm just a paranoid person by nature, I guess. Come with me and we'll get this started, huh? I've got a room set up in back." She grabbed Dean's hand and led him away, motioning for Sam to stay in the main room.
"So, uh, how's this work exactly?" Dean asked as he looked around the small bedroom. A single bed, the only piece of furniture visible in the enclosed area, sat in the middle of the room.
"Lay down," the witch instructed, pointing to the bed.
"Easier said than done," the hunter grinned, struggling into a comfortable position.
Mikayla walked up beside the bed. She reached out and ran a soft, glowing, hand down the side of Dean's face, smiling as she did so. "Sleep," she whispered as he closed his eyes, "it'll be all over when you wake."
o0o0o0o0o
Dean groaned, rubbing groggily at his eyes before opening them and looking around the room. The walls were bare and white, as were the sheets he was laying on. Blinking, he sat up, surprised at the ease of the task.
He glanced down at himself, shocked to see how loose his shirt was. He struggled out of the folds of clothing and ran a hand over his stomach, which was perfectly flat for the first time in almost five months.
He slid off the bed, taking a quick inventory, checking to make sure that he wasn't dreaming. He pinched himself, flinching at the pain, and grinned. It was over. He could have his family.
He jumped as the door to the room creaked open and Sam poked his head in. "Hey, you're up," the younger man exclaimed.
Dean shrugged. "For the past minute, yeah. So, uh…"
Sammy grinned. "Kayla wouldn't let me see her. Said you should be first."
A slow smile crept across the older hunter's face as he sank down onto the bed. "Her?"
"Congrats," Sam nodded, "it's a girl."
Dean opened his mouth to say something, but was cut off by the squeaking of the door as Kayla snuck in. "You're up," she smiled, "how you feeling?"
The hunter stood up and looked down at himself. "I can see my feet again," he grinned, "so, fine, I guess. Um-"
"It's a girl," she interrupted, "ten fingers, ten toes. You want to see her?"
"You even have to ask?"
Kayla nodded. "I'll go get her, bring her in. Be back in a few." She turned on her heels and blew back through the door, waving at the brothers as she went.
"A girl," Dean marveled, "it's a girl."
"It's a girl," Sammy echoed, "so, have you thought about names yet?"
Once again, Dean opened his mouth to answer and was cut off by an unexpected noise. This time, however, it wasn't the door.
A loud crash penetrated the silence of the apartment, getting the brothers' attention and effectively pulling them from whatever thoughts of happy futures and well-deserved celebrations they were having.
Without a word, the two hunters ran from the room, skidding around a corner in the hallway to find an open door swaying slightly in the breeze from an open window. Nodding at each other, both boys drew their weapons, which were never out of reach, and cautiously entered the room.
Mikayla was lying in the middle of the hardwood floor, her body surrounded by a pool of her own blood, her throat slit. Without uttering a word, Sam crossed the room, his long legs getting him to the shattered window in two strides. He ran his fingers carefully along the sill, eyes narrowing at the site of the fine yellow powder that rested there.
"Sulfur," Sam reported, turning to face his brother.
Dean didn't respond. He was standing across the room, staring down at something that his body was hiding from Sam's view.
Slowly, the younger man made his way from the window, side-stepping Kayla's soaking body, to his brother's side.
Dean was looking at an empty, white bassinet, his eyes blank, hands shaking slightly. Blood was splattered up the side of the small crib, marring the pristine quality of the cloth.
Sam reached out a hand and set it softly on his brother's shoulder. "Dean-"
"It took her," Dean growled, his hands clenching into tight fists until his fingernails began to cut into his palms, drawing blood that dripped into the empty carrier, "that son of a bitch."
