Epilogue: 2 Years Later, Part II

The gin and tonic in Ryan's hand was remedying the tension in the room. Sam sat next to her on the couch across from Lisa's parents, who were both extremely nice people that didn't fake smiles and were genuinely concerned when they asked Ryan about her pregnancy. It was easy to talk to them, and if Lisa was anything like her parents, Ryan understood the appeal that she had. They were light, warm people that made you feel at home. The conversation went on for about twenty minutes before Ryan excused herself to the bathroom, blaming her unsteady bladder.

She washed her hands in the guest bathroom and took in all of the minute details that Lisa had paid attention to in decorating the space. If Ryan had been in this situation two years ago, she would have been denying everything, searching only for reasons to hate Dean's new wife. But as she stood in the guest bathroom, eyeing her own reflection, she knew that this was the perfect woman to take her place. Lisa took care of Dean, took care of his home, his children. Even if Ryan wanted to hate her, she wouldn't have been able to.

Instead of going back to the living room, she decided to take a little tour around the first floor of the house on her own. Not to be snoopy, but to admire more of Lisa's decorating, perhaps as a muse for whenever her and Sam finally settled down in their own house. She looked in on the guest room, which was beautiful and neat, walked past an open living room that was more for watching television and relaxing than for the chatting that was going on in the other living room. And finally, she approached what must have been the master bedroom. Figuring that Dean and Lisa were both in the kitchen finishing dinner, she decided to sneak a peek. But instead of finding an empty bedroom, she found Dean, changing a diaper on the bed. As soon as the door had creaked open, he turned around, the look on his face completely changing when he realized it wasn't Lisa.

"Sorry… I was just… looking around,"

"Snoopin'?"

"No. Just… admiring. Your wife certainly has an eye for detail."

She felt it, he felt it, hell, the two year old on the bed probably felt it. The words 'your wife' coming out of Ryan Singer's mouth and being directed at Dean Winchester was a foreign concept to both of them. They'd never had a casual conversation about his spouse, or his child. It was all too unusual, too unreal for it to be talked about like the weather.

"Is that…?" Ryan's neck craned as she attempted to look past Dean to the toddler, who was staring up at the both of them with big green eyes.

"Yeah. Ryan, this is Mary. Mary, this is Ryan Singer,"

Her light brown hair danced in her face as she picked her head up, mumbled something incoherent and then lay back down, waiting for Dean to finish changing her.

"She's beautiful," Ryan's throat was tightening as she said it, unexpected tears glazing over her eyes. But it wasn't because of the fact that Dean's daughter wasn't hers, it was the plain and simple fact that she was beautiful and she that she looked almost identical to her old man.

He could hear the heaviness in her voice.

"Thanks," he replied without turning around.

It was quiet for a few minutes as Dean taped up the new diaper and picked Mary up off of the bed. She was smiling widely as he fixed her outfit, her hands touching every part of him that she could reach. He laughed as she poked his face, his ears, and played with his hair.

"Da-ee!" she let out ecstatically, almost singing the word.

"Yes, baby. You're ready to rock now. No more poopy-pants. Go get 'em," he said, kissed her forehead and set her down on the ground.

"Weddy wock!" She yelled, mimicking her father as best she could.

She walked out of the room, her sneakers lighting up with every step she took. Ryan watched, shaking her head in disbelief. When Mary was out of sight, she turned back to Dean, who was packing up the baby wipes and Huggies.

"She is definitely your daughter," Ryan laughed, the heaviness of her earlier comment now gone.

"Yep."

She turned to walk out of the room. "Well, I'm gonna g-"

"Tell me something," he interrupted without turning to face her.

She stopped in her tracks and waited for him to ask about the elephant in the room.

Before speaking, he slowly turned around. "Am I the only one that finds this completely whacked-out?"

"And by 'this', you mean-"

"You know exactly what I mean. You. And Sam. And that…" he said, pointing to her stomach.

"You're kidding, right?"

"I invited Sam for Christmas. Thinking that maybe… just maybe, he'd show up. And what the hell does he do? He brings you, well not just you, but pregnant you and I'm just supposed to act like it's a normal part of the holiday?"

"What else do you suggest, Dean?" Ryan's tone was calm, because she'd expected this. She'd fought against not telling Dean that she was coming alongside Sam with an extremely pregnant belly, knowing that this would be the end result. Dean would keep quiet for a little while, but eventually, he'd snap.

"Look, I know we were wrong in not telling you-"

"Stop it, stop with the we this and we that and we're looking into this name and this color and-" Dean whined, his face contorting into that of a ten year old boy that listening to something he really didn't want to hear.

Ryan was at a loss. Her nostrils flared as she stared at his pouty lips.

"Dean Winchester…" she whispered furiously, "I am not going to stand here and let you bash me for moving on with my life! You are married. You have two children. There is nothing holding me to you anymore because you moved on with your life. Now stop trying to make me feel bad about doing the same!"

He was quiet for a few minutes, the usual anger that their banter brought forth now dying down. He wasn't looking at her, but after taking a few deep breaths, his eyes found hers.

"He's my brother, Ryan."

It was God's honest truth. The only thing weapon that he could use against her and conquer. She was pregnant with his brother's child. That was what was killing him. Not the fact that she'd moved on, but the fact that she'd moved on with Sam.

"And he deserves to be happy too."

With that, she turned away from him and continued toward the door, walking away from the conversation, from all of it. She couldn't be there too long, or the metaphorical stitches that had healed so nicely would rip apart and she would be right back to where she started.

"I still pretend she's you, you know," he said before she reached the door, in a whisper, but just loud enough so that he knew she would hear.

Her feet stopped moving, her fists clenched and her eyes shut tightly.

For a few seconds, she contemplated in her head what would happen if she left her new life behind and jumped back into the world of Dean Winchester. Her heart seemed to envelope in flames and she could feel the fire pouring through her veins the way it used to, whenever he would walk into a room or wink at her or hold her hand. She hadn't felt that in forever. She missed it. But as quickly as the fire came, the realization came. They both had lives now, they both had responsibilities that couldn't just be walked away from without a second glance. They needed stop, to end the chapter, to swallow the key and never let the fire resurface.

"Me too…" she replied in the same heavy voice.

Her fists unclenched, her eyes opened and her feet began to move again.

She walked out of the room without looking back.

She ate Christmas dinner next to Sam, held Sam's hand as they listened to Lisa's father play Christmas carols on the piano. And she kissed Sam at the end of the night, as they lay next to each other in the dark.

She would never tell him, he would never know.