A/N - Thank you to all of you who have reviewed this story, I love you all for it! Glad everyone seems to be enjoying it! This chapter turned out a little longer than I expected, so I hope nobody finds it boring... I hope everyone enjoys it, and that you leave your kind words behind for me to read because they always make me feels so awesome!!!
Blessed Be XOXOXOXO
With so many people to feed, each needing a hearty meal at least twice a day to keep up with the changing World around us, there was nowhere near enough room to seat us all in the lobby.
Now, a welcome but nostalgically sad move to accommodate our growing family, we ate our meals in the grandeur of the first floor Ballroom, surrounded by heavy velvet curtains, scenic watercolour paintings by an obscure artist, and ornate candelabra lights hanging uselessly from the roof. We sat around circular mahogany tables fitted with lacy white table clothes, eating on delicate porcelain dinnerware and using gleaming silver cutlery.
We were living like royalty, and it felt kind of…wonderful. With Hell reigning down on us, it was nice to indulge ourselves with the finer things in life.
In one of the kingly, high-back dining chairs, regaling the others with my latest parlour trick of balancing my bowl of soup on the tremendous swell of my belly, I sat with my legs draped across Dean's lap and one hand entwined with his.
"They look pretty good, considering" Addie started, looking across the room at where the Echolls family, successfully saved from certain doom in Texas, were heartily enjoying a steaming hot meal. And, given the fact of what they had been through, they were looking healthy and happy.
Mom, Dad, and two little girls welcomed into our midst. Welcomed with open arms and hopeful hearts.
Our numbers now stood at fifty, bringing us one small, but significant, step closer to winning the fight.
"The girls might need some time to get over the things they saw, but they'll be OK" Dean said around a mouthful of bread dipped in thick gravy. A thin line of the dark brown liquid trailed down his chin, unnoticed in the desperation of his ravenous hunger.
"They'll spend some time with Father Michael" I said, reaching out to wipe the gravy from his chin with a paper napkin. He licked his lips, giving me a crooked grin. "He's been doing wonderful work with the other kids"
With his background as a priest, Father Michael had slipped easily in the role of Sheppard, watching over his flock of children. With all the horrors of the World haunting their dreams, he was doing his best to keep them in good spirits, teaching them the Bible and vital information from life before the Outbreak. He was trying to give them as normal a life in the Apocalypse as he possibly could.
"He's asked us to make a run to a library" Colonel said from the other side of Dean. "Wants us to grab him some literature" He poured four glasses of Scotch and passed them to his fellow team-mates for a celebratory round. Sam, happily feeding his beautifully pudgy daughter from a jar of sweet potato flavoured baby food, was the only one who didn't down his. No longer breast-feeding, Addie was happy to do it for him. She gulped it down, let out a harsh gasp at the fiery burn, then held the glass out to Colonel for another round. He obliged with a broad grin.
Leaning back in the chair and attempting to stifle a yawn, I watched my family as they interacted easily with each other, talking, and laughing, and sharing food as though this were any other day in a non-Apocalypse World. So many more people than I even though were still alive…All in the one room. There were so many people that I couldn't remember all of their names. Ruthie, and a middle aged lady by the name of Tabitha, who was a former Member of Parliament, had started up a census to keep track of everyone who walked through our doors. It was smart thinking.
And to get through this in one piece, we had to be smart.
"You feeling alright?" Dean asked gently, running his hand along the curve of my belly. The look of concern in his eyes made my heart skip a beat or two.
"A little tired" I smiled, lifting the bowl from my stomach and straining forward to place it on the table. Seeing my plight, made all the more awkward by my size, Dean took the bowl from my hand and set it down by his empty plate. My Knight in Shimmering Armour.
"I think it's time to put you to bed" he smiled, a playful glint in his eyes that hinted at me not getting any sleep for several delicious, fun-filled hours.
I smiled back, feeling a flush spread across my cheeks.
It had been two very, very long days without him…
We had a lot of catching up to do.
The handheld radio, sitting in the centre of the table beside a vase of fake roses, gave a sharp burst of static, and Zeek's voice sounded from the speaker.
"Dudes, I know y'all just got back, but there's a small group of folk in Delaware that need your assistance" His voice was apologetic, and that was probably the only reason none of the guys retorted with a smart-ass comment. They were all tired, and had been looking forward to a night of two of rest.
Dean reached for the radio, letting out a weary sigh.
"That's great, Zeek, but I'd like to enjoy a few hours with my wife before we head on out again" he said, his hand resting across my belly, feeling the gentle movements of our son inside me. "Tell them we'll head off when the night falls"
The others let out an audible sigh of relief at being granted a short reprieve.
"Ten-Four, boss" Zeek said, clicking off the frequency.
"I suggest you all get as much rest as you can" Dean said to the others, standing and helping me to my feet. "This Hero gig doesn't look like it's gonna be letting up for a while, so enjoy the down time while you can"
"Damn straight, brother" Colonel said, winking knowingly at us.
We bid them goodbye, and started the arduous climb up to our suite. Dean was patient with my agonisingly slow pace, wrapping a protective arm around my waist as I huffed and puffed my fat ass up half a dozen flights of stairs. A group of electricians were working on rigging a generator up to the hotel power supply to hopefully provide enough juice to get the elevators running. If they did, and I didn't have to navigate my pregnant self up and down these goddamn stairs, I would, most definitely, be the happiest girl in all the World.
The soft light of dawn was streaming through the window when we let ourselves in, barely making it to the bed before we released ourselves from the confines of our clothes and fell willingly into the swirling void of our passion. We lost ourselves in each other for hours, riding wave after wave of unimaginable pleasure until we both fell into a deep sleep from sheer exhaustion.
When I finally woke, bright shards of daylight were playing across the naked expanse of my belly. Dean, lying across my thighs with one arm cradling the swell of the baby, was talking in a voice too soft for me to hear.
"What are you doing?" I smiled sleepily, brushing messy curls from my face.
"Telling Junior about the time Sammy and I hunted down a seven-foot teddy bear with an alcohol problem and an interest in busty Asian beauties" he answered, looking at me over the mountain that was my stomach. Feet, hands, and elbows were poking out through my pale flesh as our son twisted and tumbled deep inside me, seemingly eager for Dean to continue with his story.
"Charming" I laughed, pulling another pillow under my head. I looked down at Dean, happily telling hunting stories to our unborn child, and wondered for a brief moment what life would have been like if the Apocalypse hadn't ruined life as we knew it. Would I be with Dean? Would I be pregnant with our son?
Despite everything weighing down on us, with Lucifer and the endless supply of the Infected, I was happy. I was 'Stepford' happy.
And, ironically, I had the End of the World to thank for that.
If the Croatoan Virus hadn't been released then I wouldn't have been able to experience the joy of falling in love with Dean, and I wouldn't be happily carrying his son inside me. I would have spent the day rebuffing his lame pick-up attempts and sent him home frustrated.
Even after losing so many people, I couldn't imagine life any other way.
I lay there, listening to Dean as he told our son a dozen hunting stories from before the Outbreak, when it was just him and Sammy against creatures from the wildest of imaginations, until the sun dipped low behind the horizon, flooding the city with darkness. And before I knew it, it was time for Dean to leave again.
"We should only be a few days. Three days at most" Dean said, slipping his feet into his scuffed and stained boots. "I'll call you every morning, and every night, I promise"
"You'd better" I said, curled up beneath a thick, woollen blanket, surrounded by enough pillows to bed an Army.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, he leaned in and kissed me gently, then pressed his lips to my stomach.
"Take good care of you Mom, Junior" he smiled, kissing me again. "I'll need her in one piece when I get back, OK?"
"I don't think he needs to know about that just yet, Dean" I laughed, rubbing my belly as our son kicked. I had a feeling that he knew his father was leaving, and he was as happy about it as I was. "Save it until he's old enough to resent us for having sex"
"Deal" Dean grinned, blessing me with one last kiss before leaving.
The room felt hollow without him, and I started counting down the hours until he would be home. Three days. Seventy-two hours. Too many minutes to even comprehend.
Three days until he was back in my arms.
Throwing the blanket back, I eased myself out of bed and pulled on an oversized nightgown as I made my way across to the bathroom to relieve myself. This boy of mine thought it was funny to bounce on my bladder like it was a trampoline.
He had his daddy's sense of humour.
I splashed water on my face, and tied my hair back in a messy chignon, studying my reflection in the mirror for several moments before heading back out into the bedroom. I felt something in the room, something in the air, change, and a shiver worked its way up the length of my spine.
I stopped mid-stride, wrapping my protectively arms around my belly. Whatever it was, it did not feel good.
"Pregnancy suits you" a soft, heartbreakingly familiar voice said from behind me, and I felt my heart freeze. "You're, like, totally glowing"
No. No. No... It couldn't be. There was no way. It was too horrible, too cruel.
Why were they doing this to me?
"You're not her" I whispered, fighting to find my voice.
"What are you talking about, Louie, of course I'm me" she laughed, and it sounded like bells. "Who else would I be?"
"No" I said, trying to make my voice steady but failing miserably. "No. You're not her. You can't be. I…I killed her"
"Did you, like, hit your head or something, 'cause you sound crazy" she said, and I felt her move closer. She sounded the same. She smelled the same.
But it couldn't be her.
It couldn't.
I turned around to face whatever it was that wore my sister's face, and felt my heart shatter into a thousand pieces.
"Hey, Louie" Millie, long dead by my hand, smiled sweetly. "Long time, no see, big sis"
