When the Cradle Falls
Chapter 10: Hold Me Tight, It'll Be All Right
A Couple Weeks Later
Sioux Falls, South Dakota
Singer Auto Salvage Yard
A wrench clinked against the frame of the car as Bobby worked hard to screw down the tricky little bolt. He had been rebuilding the engine of a 1965 Camaro after a woman had dropped off the smashed car. The windshield was shattered from where the driver-the woman's husband-was catapulted out of the car upon collision. He was dead before the paramedics even made it to the scene. Of course, the woman didn't want anything to do with the car; she would've been fine dumping the thing in a junkyard. But compared to a junkyard, Bobby's salvage yard was like a shelter for cars. Admittedly most of the cars sat untouched and rusting for all time, but once in awhile, an out-of-towner would swing by and show interest in the cars. Everyone within the borders of Sioux Falls knew not to trespass on the drunk's property, for fear of getting pumped full of shotgun lead.
Of course Bobby wouldn't-probably wouldn't-shoot anyone. Not unless they deserved it. And trespassing onto his property only required a warning shot into the air. That was usually enough to get them off. It not, someone was gonna be waddling off his property with a lead ass.
And he could count on one hand the number of times that had ever even happened.
Not completely paying attention, some unidentified piece, part of the engine, fell and clattered into the depths of the car. "Balls!" Bobby hissed, shoving a hand down the hood of the car, trying to find the little son-of-a-bitch. This was just what he needed: for the past few weeks, small things had been setting him off.
And he knew why.
It was because he had two teenage boys sitting up in his house, worried about their damn father who had stayed behind in the entrance of a motel room to ward off a nest of demons he kicked. It had been over a month, and neither boy, nor Bobby had heard a single word from John Winchester.
To Bobby, that was typical, but it was something the boys weren't used to.
Now Bobby wasn't angry the boys were there, in fact, he loved those boys like sons and they were always welcome there. But their irresponsible father made Bobby want to choke the man out until his eyeballs rolled inside his head and could hopefully give John a chance to find his brain, which always seemed to be missing when it came to his children.
His anger shifted from the missing part to John Winchester. Muttering to himself, Bobby didn't hear the gravel shifting underfoot that slowly moved closer to him.
"Bobby?"
Bobby snapped his head up, banging it on the hood that was propped up. "Idjit!" He cursed and readjusted his hat, but not before hitting the hood that it slammed back down over the engine.
"Bobby?"
"What boy?!" As soon as the words came out, Bobby realized they were much harsher than he meant them to be. "This damn car is testing my patience."
But Dean, the one who had called for the older man, didn't seem to register the anger in Bobby's tone.
With a frown, Bobby surveyed Dean.
The teen had an expression on his face like he had just seen a man get ripped limb from limb-that actually wasn't a good analogy, now that Bobby thought about it. But Dean's face was almost vacant, as if he were in shock. His cell phone was clenched tightly in one fist, which was shaking ever so slightly. Bobby had never seen Dean in such an unresponsive state.
"Boy?" Bobby asked softly.
Dean swallowed and stared at his phone before putting it in his pocket. "There's...something I want to tell you, but I'm not really sure how to say it."
"What is it?" Worry was beginning to build up. Dean had never been one to just admit things off the fly. Something really, truly heavy was eating at the kid. And if Dean was willing to share it, as opposed to keeping it bottled up, that mean whatever it was was something serious, something toxic. The whole thing effectively freaked Bobby out.
"Please promise me you won't tell my dad. He doesn't know. And neither does Sam. I want to keep it that way." Dean began to rub his hands together almost compulsively. After a few seconds of it, he realized what he was doing and forced himself to stop. He'd never done that before, never had a nervous tick before.
That concerned Bobby, made him stand up a little straighter. He slowly walked towards Dean in apprehension. "What is it?"
Dean looked down at gave a colorless chuckle. "I don't even know…" He looked so helpless right then, and felt nearly the same way.
"You know you can tell me, right? Whatever it is. And don't worry: I won't tell your daddy," Bobby assured, but wondered which line Dean had to cross for Bobby to tell John. Surely something involving the demons the senior Winchester had pissed off. But, it couldn't be that, because if that were the case, Dean would've been calling up his father, even though John hadn't answered a single call in over a month.
Dean let out a breath he'd been holding in, while Bobby took a sharp inhale. "Thanks Bobby. Just give me a second."
A Little While Earlier
Alice bounced Cara from side-to-side while she held a phone between her ear and shoulder. Jan was out doing whatever it was the older woman did on a regular day. Dean had returned to his father and brother a few weeks ago. He called her whenever he got the chance. And she always answered.
And lately, the last few calls had been tense. Dean vaguely mentioned he was worried about his father and he and his brother were staying at a family friend's house for awhile. He didn't really expand any further than that. But with each call, he always made sure she was okay, how Cara was doing, and always managed to ask about her aunt, which she found slightly odd, since she didn't think Jan and Dean thought much of each other other that what they had to, the one time they met. Now that she thought about, Jan asked about Dean quite a bit, as well. But for her aunt, she just supposed Jan wanted to make sure the boy who knocked up her niece wasn't a piece of trash.
But that aside, there was something radically different about this phone call. There was something different about this time. "I don't know how it could've happened. I mean, I do: we're the world's biggest idiots," she moaned into the phone.
There was a slight edge in Dean's voice, like he hadn't slept much lately. "Are you sure? You're absolutely positive?"
She sighed. "I went to the doctor yesterday. This is one hundred percent, Dean."
There was some shuffling on the other end of the phone. "I don't know Sam-yeah we can go play fetch later. I'm talking to some girl. Just give me ten minutes and we'll go."
She grinded her teeth, feeling a flare of anger in her stomach. "Some girl huh? Well for some girl, it sure is funny you knocked me up! Twice!" She knew this was half his fault and half hers. The first time was the first time, but two times! She still couldn't fathom such odds. Alice had always considered herself a smart girl, but decided when she was around Dean Winchester, all her common sense flew out the window. It was like she was in some hypnotic trance and all the world fell away except for Dean. She chalked it up to biology, but still.
She was sure her parents would be thrilled to hear about their bastard grandchild number two. The only times they talked to her now were to wish her a very stiff Merry Christmas and a very unfelt Happy Birthday to her. But not to Cara. Now not to the new baby.
When she told Aunt Jan her suspicions a few days ago, Jan made her a doctor's appointment and just sighed. As she was leaving that day, she commented, "Well, hope you like that Dean guy enough because even if you're not together, you two are officially linked together for life." But she was right. Two children proved that Dean was more than just a fading mistake in Alice's life. In the crudest way, it proved Dean came back for more and Alice gave it to him.
Dean didn't respond. Alice gave him a few moments. They never discussed what role he would play in their children's lives.
"Hey."
"Huh?" Cara fussed a bit and Alice went and set her down in her crib when the baby wouldn't stop wriggling.
"I uh...I have to go I think."
"Yeah,." She figured as much. Alice just wished he would say he'd want to be a good father. It was hard enough raising one child alone. And in less than a year, she would be outnumbered. "You can go if you have to go." She just wished he would stay on the line a little longer.
"Okay, thanks." As she was about to hang up, he called her name. "You know I want to be a good father to them, Allie. Right now, I just can't leave Sam. He needs me right now. And I know that's an awful thing to say when there are going to be two babies in the world without a father. They need their mother more. Cara and this new baby are always gonna need you more, Allie. You make up for me not being there in every way."
She hung up pretty quickly after that and slammed the phone down. Quickly picking up Cara, Alice bounded down the stairs-without jarring the baby. She grabbed the keys to her car and stormed out the backdoor to the alley, where the car was parked.
Once reaching the car, Alice carefully put Cara in her seat and buckled the straps. Before closing the door and getting in the driver's seat, Alice stared at Cara, and wondered how she resembled each of her parents. With a sigh, Alice kissed Cara on the forehead and took her place behind the wheel of the car.
Alice drove carefully and perhaps macabrely stopped when she pulled into the spot where she and Dean had unknowingly and stupidly conceived their second child.
She breathed in and out, and glanced back at the empty seat next to Cara. She imagined another baby. "Do you want a brother or sister, Cara? You won't be alone anymore, baby." Alice laughed weakly at the furrowed expression on Cara's face. The baby normally didn't scream, but she always had such a distrustful expression, even around her own mother. Alice figured that was a good quality to have: be skeptical of everything and everyone.
Wiping at her eyes, Alice turned back to her child. "It's gonna be hard baby, you know? I won't be able to focus all of my attention on you anymore. You're going to have to share me with the new baby. But I promise, I will always be there for you. I won't ever leave you. I love you, Cara."
She stopped for a moment and made the same promise to the baby slowly growing inside of her, which was still hard to imagine. When Alice was this pregnant with Cara, she wasn't even completely sure. She has suspicions, but honestly thought she was sick.
It hadn't seemed real until she had pulled into the spot where it started all over again for a second time.
But it was.
Dean wanted to kill something.
He had not signed up for this.
It had taken enough adjustment to finding out he had one child, a daughter.
And now, he was gonna have another one.
"Fuck," Dean whispered, clenching the phone tightly. He dropped down to the couch and cradled his head in his hands, knocking the phone against his temple, as if hoping the last conversation with Alice would fall out of his head.
He'd gotten more than he wanted. All he wanted to do was find Alice. And now he had gotten two kids out of the deal.
That really just was the icing on the fucking cake. Alice was no doubt pissed at him for knocking her up again-and he couldn't really say he blamed her. Dean hadn't heard even a whisper from his father since he had left John standing alone in the motel room. He was worried about his father. And Sam was blaming Dean, as if the whole thing was somehow his fault. Bobby was the only one who wasn't getting on Dean's very last nerve. Since he and Sam were basically squatting in his house, he had no right to get angry with Bobby. Besides, Bobby could probably backhand Dean or even back over him the the car he was restoring and Dean still wouldn't be angry with the man.
He stared at the loose floorboards for a couple minutes and just tried to breathe, trying some of the yoga crap he heard Jan telling Alice about when he was over there.
Eventually, Dean decided he wasn't accomplishing anything useful just sitting there and stewing. He done enough stewing. He'd been doing it for over a month.
Swinging himself up from the couch, Dean passed Sam in the kitchen and slammed open the old screen door. Dean ignored Sam's inquiry if it was time to play catch yet.
Not now, Sammy, really not the time.
Moving quickly across the dusty yard full of junked up cars, Dean caught the familiar catchphrase of anger as he saw Bobby irately digging around in the hood of the smashed car. That car must've been something before the accident, Dean thought. But now, the frame was smashed, interior soaked with blood.
After a few moments, Dean finally got the man's attention and said, "There's...something I want to tell you, but I'm not really sure how to say it."
Dean had to keep reminding himself it wasn't John Winchester standing in front of him, but Bobby. Still, Dean couldn't help but wonder how John would react to hearing the news. But, Dean couldn't even think of how his father would respond. Maybe there was a reason for that.
Bobby patiently waited for Dean to get the words out.
"I just got off the phone…"
"With your daddy?"
Dean vigorously shook his head, and almost regretted it. He could've stopped himself there and said just that. But, he couldn't lie to Bobby, the man who was basically an uncle to him. "No. It was some girl who I went to high school with for awhile. It was in the middle of Nebraska and it was while my dad was working a case."
"She have anything interesting to say?"
Dean clasped his hands together and rocked back on his feet. "As a matter of fact, she did."
Patience wearing thin, Bobby motioned for Dean to keep talking. He didn't want to have to cue the boy every time Dean took a pause.
"Right. Well, it's been a year and a half since I was at that high school but I recently went to see her. She's living in Chicago with her aunt now. I did this about a month ago, right before we came here. Dad thought it was my first solo hunt."
"But you went to go see a girl instead." Bobby had to say he'd rather Dean go visit some high school crush than him go hunting by himself. The idea wasn't exactly thrilling, to say the least.
Dean nodded. "Yeah."
"She must've been something."
"She's something alright."
"Well, I assume whatever she told you on the phone must have been a bombshell." Bobby was purposefully not letting his mind wander.
Dean laughed again. "I'll say." He looked Bobby in the eyes for the first time. "Look, I'm about to tell you and I don't know how you're gonna react. But however you do, please don't tell my dad," Dean pleaded.
Bobby nodded. "I swear."
Dean nodded several times, mentally building up enough courage to tell Bobby. He kept trying to convince himself he had no fear when on hunts, and admitting one little-major-slip up was nothing. Eventually Dean told himself to stop acting like a little bitch and just let it out.
"The girl, Alice, told me. That. She's. Pregnant?" The last word was phrased as if he were asking Bobby to clarify that Alice actually was pregnant, as if Bobby would somehow have any idea. The man certainly knew enough.
"Come again?" Bobby asked, his face contorting into something sarcastic, as if he thought Dean was playing a joke on him. A really bad joke.
Dean sighed as his shoulders slumped forward. "Alice told me she's gonna have a baby. My baby."
"So you're telling me, you knocked up some girl?"
Dean nodded. "Yes sir."
"Probably would've been better to never have gone to visit that girl, huh?"
"Twenty-twenty," Dean admitted.
"Well lemme ask the double jeopardy question. Did you use protection?" Maybe Bobby could just chalk it up to a faulty misstep.
But when Dean looked down at the ground and didn't respond, Bobby got the answer he was dreading.
"Are you brain dead? What did your daddy never give you the talk about how babies are made? Huh? Ya stupid idjit! I oughta throttle you, maybe knock some sense into you." Bobby smacked the back of Dean's head, and then thumped him on the chest in anger. These boys really were going to be the death of him. It was like they tried to send him into cardiac arrest. "Your daddy was gonna let you go on a solo hunt and you don't even know how to use a goddamn condom? Oh you're lucky your daddy doesn't know. Boy, you would be dead in the ground."
"I know, okay? That's why I don't want him to know!" Dean smacked Bobby's hand away when he went to take another swing at the back of Dean's head. "Look, I don't need you to wail on me: I've been beating myself up about this already. Okay?"
Bobby turned around and shut his eyes, hearing the self-incriminating tone in the boy's voice, but finding it difficult to find sympathy for him. "So, what are you gonna do, Dean?" Bobby asked, still turned around.
"No idea. But Bobby, that's not all." Dean's voice was so small now.
Oh dear God.
"See, it's kinda my fault she moved to Chicago in the first place."
"And why's that?" Bobby knew things were about to get ten times worse.
"She had to leave Broken Bow because of a similar incident. I uh...kind of knocked her up and she moved in with her aunt. But I didn't know about this because she found out after I left. I didn't know about it until I tracked her down."
Feeling himself leaning against the car, Bobby fought to gain control of his voice. "So the short version is that you knocked this girl up twice, if I'm hearing correctly."
"In a nutshell."
He didn't know why he was asking, but Bobby did anyways. "Did you use protection the first time?"
"No sir."
Bobby was suddenly animated. He spun around, reached over, and smacked the back of Dean's head again. "Boy have you lost your damn mind?! You're not even eighteen years old and already ruined some poor girl's life twice?"
"Guess so."
"You need to take some responsibility for your actions."
Dean's anger flared a bit. "What am I supposed to do, huh? What can I even do? I have no skills that would be useful to her! Alice didn't even graduate high school because of me, and she was gonna be a doctor or lawyer or something brilliant like that. Her parents want nothing to do with her! I'm just thankful her aunt is decent enough to support her and Cara!"
"Cara?"
"What?" Dean stopped his rant.
"Cara?" Bobby asked again.
Dean felt himself smiling a little bit. "Yeah. That's her name."
"Her?"
He nodded again. "Cara's my daughter."
For the first time, Bobby caught a glimpse of Dean in a new light. The entire time he spoke, Bobby assumed Dean wanted nothing to do with these children, was just an extravagant idgit. But hearing Dean so readily admit the child was his daughter was mind altering to Bobby, it even lessened some of the anger he felt. Still, it didn't mean Dean was any less of an idiot.
"Dean?"
"Yeah, Bobby?"
"You love this girl? Alice?"
Dean frowned. "I don't know. I don't really know what that's even supposed to feel like. I know it certainly doesn't look like that."
Well, maybe Dean didn't know, but Dean's not running for the hills was a big clue to Bobby.
"And what about Cara, this little girl? Do you love her?"
In response, Dean reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. He dug into a spot and pulled out a piece of paper folded in half a couple times. It was so small that surely anyone going through his wallet would've thought it was maybe a discarded receipt.
Dean slowly began to unfold the paper, which Bobby realized was a wallet sized photograph.
Smoothing it out, Dean stared at it for a moment before handing it over to Bobby.
Squinting at the wrinkled picture, Bobby studied it. It was poorly taken, of a baby with dark brown hair sticking up in different directions. The baby had both hands leaning up against a wall, bracing so it could stand. The thing had wide brown eyes and a curious expression as it stared at the camera. The baby wore a light pink onesie. Bobby looked up at Dean.
"That's Cara," Dean said. "It was taken a couple of weeks before I knew she even existed. She'd be about eight months old now."
Bobby slowly handed the photo back to Dean who carefully put it back in his wallet.
"Do you want to be a part of these kid's lives?"
Dean nodded slowly. "I think so."
"How are you gonna do that?"
"Just see them when i can, I guess. I can't be there for them one hundred percent. Not when Sammy needs me and not when I have that lifestyle. But I guess hunting is isn't something that's gonna be completely separate from them."
"You idjit, did you tell this girl about-"
"No! She doesn't know. Her aunt, however, is a hunter. Or was, I guess. But no. Alice doesn't know."
"What's the aunt's name?"
"Janet Sutton. I think Breckinridge before she was married."
Bobby thought for a moment. "Doesn't ring a bell." As Winchester luck would have it, of course Dean would knock up some girl with ties to the supernatural world.
"Ah well…"
"Dean, do you really think visiting these kids whenever you can is the best way to be in their lives?"
Dean frowned. "What do you mean?"
Bobby pulled down the brim of his hat. "If you can't be there for them one hundred percent or even ninety percent, can you really consider yourself their father then?" Bobby couldn't help but icily point some of the question towards Dean's own absent father. It wasn't the boy's fault-well besides the two pregnancies-that Dean's only parental role model was a dead beat that made his children hunt things that went bump in the night.
"Bobby, I still can't wrap my head around that fact. And you know, I wouldn't mind being there for them more often, but I don't know how. And I can't. I can't leave my dad and Sammy. They need me."
"And what, Alice doesn't need you?"
Dean scoffed and kicked a rock so hard, the trajectory of the force arced it into the car Bobby was restoring. Neither seemed to notice. "What can I do for her, really?" Dean glanced up at Bobby, almost as if he were expecting an answer.
With a sigh, Bobby kicked a wrench with his foot, not sure what else to say to Dean.
"I know this is absolutely crazy. I'm still a kid, Bobby." Dean placed a hand on his forehead and seemingly rocked himself back and forth.
"Well, you can't be a kid and a father. You need to figure out your priorities and pick which one is important to you. Boy, I'm not going to tell you what to do because even I don't know the answer to that. Reckon that's something you're gonna have to take awhile to think about."
"I need a drink," Dean muttered.
"If you promise not to drink all my beer you can have some. Just don't let Sam see."
He scoffed. "I'm gonna need something a little stronger than beer."
Bobby shook his head. "Well of course you do," he muttered sarcastically. He found out Dean was going to be a father of two, and now the teenager wanted to put a dent in his alcohol reserves. With a grumble, Bobby conceded. "Just don't touch the stuff in the mason jars."
"Why? You think I can't handle it?"
"No," Bobby retorted, flaring with an attitude. "That's my special, custom made moonshine. I just don't wanna share with you."
Another figure approached the two. "Dean." The younger man spun around to find Sam with a football in one hand. "You said you would throw around a football with me after you finished talking to that girl. Then you ran out here. I waited for a half an hour."
Had it really been that long since Dean talked to Alice? He scrubbed a hand over his face.
"Sam." The tone clearly stated Dean had more important things to worry about than throw around a damn football. Sam immediately noticed and thought about how Dean always seemed to be brushing him to the side, never seeming interested in his younger brother any longer.
Instead of saying anything, Sam just looked down at the ground, and spiked the football at the ground.
Bobby came and clapped a hand on Sam's shoulder. He snatched the fallen football. "I'll play catch with you," Bobby assured.
Brightening, Sam looked up at the older man. "Really? Because I know you were working on restoring that car-"
With a laugh, Bobby kicked the rim of the car. "You see that thing? It's not going anywhere." And neither was he.
Bobby shot Dean a pointed look before Sam and the old man walked off the salvage yard to the field behind it.
Bobby had said didn't couldn't still be a kid and have kids. He couldn't be there for his father and Sammy and also for Alice, Cara, and the new baby. Only to himself could Dean admit if he tried to spread himself too thin like that, he would end up doing a half assed job, which wasn't good for anyone.
The main problem on his mind had been his father, who was so desperate and crazed the last time Dean saw him. Not even one single word, appearance, or smoke signal for over a month. It wasn't even a possibility that John could be dead because he would've pulled the whole sky down with him before he let that happen. John had to be still smoking out the nest, or at least trying to keep the demons on his tail away from Dean and Sam. But Dean wished John would let him help. He could help.
His worry over Alice and Cara had subsided when Jan assured him nothing supernatural would get within smelling distance of Alice and Cara. And although nothing had changed, except for the jarring news, Dean felt himself increasingly worry over Alice and the safety of the unborn baby over the past while. Couple that with a baby that could barely walk, and there was no way Jan could protect them if she were outnumbered by demons, especially when Alice had no idea the kind of things that lurked in the shadows of the world she thought she knew. He should be there with Alice.
But was it better to stay away? He had no idea whether or not the demons knew if Alice and the babies even existed or not. All he could do was hope they didn't, and wait for John Winchester.
That was something Dean hated. Sitting around and waiting was completely useless. And Dean hated feeling completely useless. Funnily enough, that was pretty much all he'd been feeling in the past month. Pair that with the shocking phone call from Alice, and Dean was ready to go on a witch hunt for his father, get Alice and the babies somewhere safe, or track down the demons and kill them all. He wasn't sure which one yet.
So of course, what does Dean do?
He stands there like an idiot, flagellating himself for not knowing what to do.
Then remembering something, Dean turned on his heel and slammed the back door to Bobby's house. In the study, in a dusty armoire shoved up against the wallpapered wall, Dean found a bottle of whiskey, a quarter of the way empty. Never knowing Bobby was one to leave anything less than a bottle of alcohol, Dean took a few sips and coughed on the burning liquid, pausing to wonder why he was drinking it. But then, the answer came a few minutes later in a wave of calm and detachment.
That was why, Dean remembered.
Dean drank and drank into a state that would be irreversible for the rest of his life. Slowly building up tolerance bit by bit, drinking alcohol would soon become as essential as water to him.
But for now, it only took a small amount for his worries to slither away.
At least for awhile.
In this state, a while stretched into as long as Dean kept drinking.
"That's good, Sammy, really get the tight spiral," Bobby coached, as Sam threw the ball with impressive precision and speed.
Catching the ball against this chest, Bobby threw the ball back with a force that knocked Sam back a couple feet. Still, he managed to keep a hold of the ball. He stared in awe at his uncle. "Where'd you learn to throw like that?"
Bobby chuckled. "Would you believe I was on varsity in high school?"
"With a throw like that, sure."
Bobby smiled at Sam's carefree smile. He was still young, it was still easy for him to forget his worries for awhile. If at least for awhile Bobby could keep one of the boys happy, he would do it.
They threw the ball back and forth of a couple times. When one time, the ball shot past Sam, he went to retrieve it. But when Bobby saw the pensive look on Sam's face as he walked back, football held loosely in one hand, Bobby knew playing catch was over.
"You haven't heard from my dad, have you?" Sam asked.
Bobby shook his head. "You know I would've told you if I did."
Sam looked somewhat unconvinced, the football spinning underneath his hands.
"What? You don't believe me?" Bobby asked. He took the football away from Sam and tossed it aside, undividing Sam's attention.
"I believe you. But I don't believe Dean."
"And why's that?"
Sam scoffed and crossed his arms. "Dean told me he was talking to some random girl on the phone. He thinks I'm just a dumb little kid."
"Boy what are you saying?"
"He was talking to Dad. Dean's been keeping secrets ever since we got here. He just doesn't think I can handle the truth. He doesn't care about any girl that much." The irony of the words was not lost on the older man.
Bobby was thoughtful for a moment. Sam was a smart little idjit, but also a bit paranoid. Right then, Bobby could've told Sam the truth, that no: Dean hadn't heard from their father, and yes: there actually was a girl Dean cared about that much.
"He's not talking to your daddy."
"Don't lie to me," Sam insisted, voice wavering a little bit.
"Thought you believed me." Bobby crossed his arms, studying Sam.
"I do," Sam said quickly. "It's just...I saw you and Dean talking before I came out there. And as soon as I came out, you both stopped talking like I wasn't supposed to hear what you were talking about." He eyes flicked up to Bobby. "So what were you guys talking about?"
Bobby just shrugged. "Not what you think. But it's not my place to tell you. You want to know, you go ask your brother. But I can tell you it has nothing to do with your daddy."
With a head shake, Sam was entirely sure Dean wouldn't appreciate his younger brother coming up and asking him about his conversation with Bobby. Realizing this, Sam let out a sigh. "Nevermind."
"Good answer." Bobby jogged over and picked up the football. "You better run boy, this ball is gonna go far."
And just like that, Sam was dropped back into the world of childhood innocence.
With a roll of her stomach, Alice pushed the roast beef plate away. She plugged her nose and turned her head to the side, feeling an unsettling feeling in her throat.
"What?" Jan asked, mouth full of the beef.
Alice took one look at her and darted from the table. There was the sound of retching and a toilet flushing. A few moments later, Alice came back with a clean mouth and brushed teeth, and retook her place at the table, still staring at the plate of roast beef warily.
"Are you kidding me?!" Jan demanded. "You're sick of it? You were practically bathing in this stuff at the end of your last pregnancy. And lemme tell you I was the one who was sick of it. I was the one who was making it three days a week! And now you can't even look at it without throwing up?"
Alice rolled her eyes at Jan's antics. "Apparently. Look, I'll clean it up. I'm sorry I made you make it. It sounded really good. And thank you."
Jan smiled fondly at her niece. "It's no problem, darling."
"Thanks Aunt Jan," Alice smiled.
Feigning surprise, Jan pointed at Alice. "Oh you thought I was talking about you? No I was talking to this little cutie right here." Jan leaned over and chucked Cara under the chin. In response, Cara's tiny fist brushed the underside of her chin, perplexed at what had just happened. From her high chair, Cara glared at Jan's hand in indignant shock.
Sitting back, Jan grinned when she saw Alice giving her a withering look. "Tough crowd."
After a few minutes of thoughtful silence, Jan cleared her throat. "So, Alice, I talked to my sister today."
Alice bit her upper lip and nodded. She still wasn't sure how she felt about Jan referring to Sherry as her sister, as opposed to Alice's mother. Sherry had no sympathy for her daughter, so surely Alice shouldn't have any for her mother, either. However, Alice still felt like she owed her mother something. After growing up an environment for seventeen years with expectations taller than the house she lived in, Alice couldn't help but feel both thankfulness and resentment for her parents. Thankful because her parents obviously saw some potential in Alice that she never saw in herself, but resentful for how controlling and guilt-tripping they were.
One hand guiding a spoon towards Cara's mouth, Alice placed her head on the other one, focusing on her daughter. "Yeah?"
"I told her about the new baby."
"That was quick," Alice noted.
"I figured it was better to do it before the next kid popped out."
Alice sent her well meaning aunt another withering glance. "What did Sherry have to say?"
Letting out a short guffaw, Jan scooped some more roast beef onto her plate. "What you'd expect from a straight-laced goody goody. Oh, she also told me to tell you she's praying for your soul."
Alice scoffed, knowing Jan had meant it as a joke, but there was still a part of Alice's heart that was gripped in fear. Would she go to Hell for having two kids out of wedlock? And what about her kids? Alice always tried to convince herself this train of thought was irrational, but growing up in a very religious household for her entire life still had a grip on Alice's beliefs. And ultimately, on her own accord, she did believe. But she just hoped God was merciful.
"What about Daddy? You heard from him recently?"
Cringing at the name, Alice shrugged. "I haven't talked to him since I told him. I figured he needed a couple days to sort things out."
"He say anything else?"
Alice frowned and stared at her aunt. "Should he have?"
Very quickly, Jan scooped up her and Alice's plates from the table. "I don't know why you're asking me. You're the one sleeping with him."
"Aunt Jan come on! Past tense! Definitely not present tense."
Jan raised an eyebrow at pointedly glared at Alice's stomach. "We'll see about that, honey."
"Real nice," Alice quipped. She wiped Cara's face off with the bib and pulled the baby from her high chair. "Come on biddy baby, let's get you away from your crazy great aunt." Alice spun around with her daughter and kissed her on the cheek, as Cara nuzzled against her chest.
"Hey! I resent that, Alice Francine! Great aunt? That just makes me sound ancient now!"
Alice gave a mischievous grin. "The gray hairs tell the story, Janet."
With a smirk, Jan flung a dish towel at Alice as she retreated from the kitchen. "That's right, run away!" Chuckling, Jan turned back around to the sink and immersed the dishes under the way.
As she walked down the hallway, Alice couldn't stop herself from smiling. This is what a real family felt like. There was warmth and open communication, much the opposite of her cold and closed off childhood home.
Honestly, if Alice could go without ever stepping back into the little yellow house on the street named after a tree, she would be content.
Once in Cara's bedroom, Alice showered her daughter with kisses. "Listen to me, Cara mia: if you have family who loves you, you have everything you need. But family and love don't necessarily go hand in hand. But, you can bet as your mama I love you to the moon and back and back again."
Cara's wide eyes were captivated by her mother, she even had the faintest trace of a smile. "Mamamamama moomoomoomoo," she babbled.
Alice felt an unparalleled spark of joy. She scooped Cara up once more. "That's right, baby! I'm your mama, and I love you!"
In a rare display, Cara let out a short little giggle, but sustained the wide little smile.
Alice's hand went to her stomach, and completely, for the first time, she was excited for this new baby. The prospect of having two giggling little babies was absolutely enthralling, and Alice couldn't even begin to imagine how she once thought this little creature in front of her ever could've been a curse.
It was truly amazing how transformative motherhood was.
Splayed hand rubbing over her abdomen, Alice tried to picture what this new baby would be like, but it was like trying to picture Cara all grown up. She knew it was going to be amazing, but couldn't seem to grasp the image.
"You're gonna make a great big sister, aren't you, Cara?"
And Alice knew she would.
With a content sigh, Alice took a seat in the rocking chair by Cara's crib and glided back and forth.
Things were finally okay again.