Title: Endings & Beginnings Chapter Four
Author: Gillian Middleton
Characters: Sam & Dean
Rating: G
Total word count: 2300
Warning: A baby story. Angst.
Summary: Alternate universe story - Dean and Sam reunite after four years apart. Sam is burying his past, and Dean is holding his future.

But All Endings Are Also Beginnings

Part Four

By Gillian Middleton

The highway stretched out ahead of them, the setting sun was blazing spectacular shades of red and gold behind them. Metallica was blaring from the speakers and Sam glanced behind him at the baby who was sleeping peacefully.

"Doesn't that bother her?"

"Apparently not."

Sam slanted his brother a glance. Dean hadn't said much all day, just agreeing with Sam about their destination and driving the car.

"You mad at me?"

"No."

Sam surveyed him a moment longer.

"You're mad at me," he concluded.

Dean sighed and flicked a look his way. "I'm not mad at you, Sam," he said firmly. "I'm just trying to... process."

"But you do believe me?"

"I don't know," Dean admitted. "I mean, we've seen some pretty strange things. Done some pretty strange things. But psychic dreams?"

"I know," Sam acknowledged. "That's the kind of thing that happens to other people, not to us."

"Exactly."

"But, Dean, I ignored it when it happened, because I thought the same thing. I convinced myself they were just dreams. Nightmares. And Jessica died."

Dean's lips tightened. "You probably couldn't have done anything to stop it anyway, Sam," he said sympathetically. "Even if you'd known it was really coming."

Sam turned back to the view outside, long shadows flashing across his face, momentarily blinding him. "I could have tried. I could have tried to keep her safe."

Dean drove silently for a few minutes while Sam struggled to retain his composure.

"It just seems pretty flimsy to hang our hopes on." Dean finally said

"If that was all we had, I'd agree. But it's not all. We have Dad's journal, we have the names of his contacts. Somebody must be able to help us. And if I do dream again, then maybe this time we can stop it from happening."

Dean glanced into his rearview mirror, then took a deep breath. "All right," he said briskly. "How many names have we got?"

"About two dozen," Sam said, pulling out the list. "I started running them through Lexus Nexus and I've already crossed off three. Deceased."

"It's a dangerous game," Dean acknowledged. "Only twenty odd? I thought there were more names than that?"

"Yeah, well, I didn't count the ones that were crossed out. Figured they were dead.'

Dean snorted. "This is Dad we're talking about here, Sammy. I mean, I loved the man, but he had a knack for pissing people off."

"No kidding," Sam muttered.

"Could be the crossed-off names are just people he didn't want to talk to any more. Or who wouldn't talk to him."

Sam considered this. "Good point. I'll go back through it tonight and add their names. That should widen our chances." He ran his eye down the list again, some names familiar, some not. "Dean?" he asked quietly.

"Yeah?"

"Dad spent twenty years hunting it. Do you think he had a plan for what he'd do if he found it?"

"Dad always had a plan." Dean nodded at the journal. "We just gotta hope he confided it to one of them."

666

The shower was running in the bathroom and Sam was rummaging through his duffel bag for his notebook. He glanced over at Maddy's carrier, sitting safely on the table, noting that the baby was yawning around her pacifier, long eye lashes fluttering as she stirred awake. He gave up the search for socks and unzipped her bunny bag, pulling out the various paraphernalia needed to change a four month old baby and laying it out in preparation.

He sat down at the table as she snuffled and snorted awake, fingering the quilted fabric of the bag absently. Sam wondered if he'd ever get used to it. Pink socks with lace around the top. Bibs with smiling stars or gamboling teddy bears printed on them. The color pink... everywhere.

Sam wondered if Dean ever felt this way, ever looked at his khaki duffel and old leather weapons bag and questioned whether these two worlds could ever fit together.

It reminded Sam of when he'd first moved into the apartment with Jess. How fascinated he'd been with all the bottles and lotions, the dainty minutiae of a woman's life. He remembered helping her make the bed, laying out frilly pillows and satin cushions that they didn't even use. She'd laughed when he asked her what the hell they were for, but at the same time there was a sad kind of knowledge in her eyes. Like it hurt her that Sam had grown up deprived of the soft, useless things of life.

Maddy was awake and making those snuffling little sighs that indicated she wanted some attention or food or both, pretty darn quickly, and Sam shook off his grief and lifted her out onto the table.

She brightened up immediately, batting her long lashes and blowing bubbles happily. Sam shook his head. If those big hazel-green eyes weren't a dead giveaway he'd have known this was Dean's kid just from this. Flirtation must be in the genes. Sam had a quick mental picture of this baby girl as a teenager and couldn't help chuckling. Dean was in for some major headaches, and karma was a real bitch.

"You hungry?" Sam asked her, sitting her up on her padded bottom, one hand supporting her nodding head.

"Na," she drooled. "Nnnnna nana."

"No, it's Sam," he said into her wide eyes. "Sa Sa Saaam."

"Na!"

"Close enough," Sam decided. He laid her back down and unfastened her disposable diaper, wiping and powdering like a pro. Dean was usually at hand to mix formula and feed her, and he would wake in the night the minute she stirred for her feed. But he had no problem at all drafting his brother in for diaper duty, and so Sam was becoming quite the expert. He fastened the last sticky tab and tickled Maddy's round belly, just to hear her squeal with laughter. His earlier dark mood had drifted away and he leaned over and blew a raspberry on her tummy, wincing as she grabbed his hair and tugged.

"Ow ow," he grimaced, pulling long fingers free. "That's some grip you got there. How about this?" And he blatted another raspberry on her cheek, lifting her up in the air and dodging her hands as she squirmed and squealed with laughter.

Then Sam looked up. His brother was standing in the doorway, rubbing a towel over his hair, jeans slung low around his hips.

Maddy was still chuckling and wriggling, patting enthusiastically at his face, and Sam felt an embarrassed flush rising in his cheeks.

"Gotcha," Dean smirked, tossing the towel aside and sauntering into the room. "I knew you wouldn't be able to resist her for much longer."

"I wasn't trying to resist her," Sam said defensively, pulling down her soft little shirt and settling her on his his lap. "Why would I?"

"Don't worry about it, Sam." Dean pulled a worn, white t-shirt over his head. "You lasted longer than I did."

Maddy squealed and kicked to get his attention and Sam tickled her tummy, taking in his brother's words.

"Why would you try to resist her?"

Dean sat down on the side of his bed and looked at him thoughtfully for a moment. "Because we were planning on giving her away, Sam. Her mother and me. We were planning to give her up for adoption."

Sam's arms tightened around the baby on his lap automatically. "You're kidding?"

Dean shrugged. "It seemed like it would be the best thing for her. Give her to a real family to take care of her."

"You're her family," Sam said, still finding it hard to take in. "You're her father."

"And here I am," Dean reminded him. "But before she was born I wasn't exactly feeling very fatherly." He reached out his arms and Maddy arched in Sam's hold, squealing happily, then thrusting herself forward as Sam handed her over. "Hey, Maddy-girl."

"I don't get it," Sam said in genuine confusion, watching as Dean hugged the baby and let her curl happily into his neck. "What the hell happened to you after Dad died, Dean? I mean, you tell Maddy's mother to get an abortion, you talk about giving up your own flesh and blood. That's not you, man. You were always the one trying to hold our family together."

"And look at all the good it did me," Dean shot back. "You left, Dad left. Then just like that he was gone, and I was alone." He stood, kissing Maddy on the cheek and then laying her down in her carrier. She fussed unhappily, blinking long lashed eyes up at him soulfully. He leaned over her little portable crib, letting her wrap her hand around one callused finger.

"You didn't have to be alone," Sam reminded him quietly. "You knew where I was, Dean."

"Yeah, well, like I told you," Dean began.

"You hit rock bottom for a while," Sam interrupted. "I know, you told me. Just what does that mean, Dean?"

Dean looked at him, face enigmatic. "I hope you never have to find out, Sammy."

"And what the hell does that mean?" Sam said angrily. "This mystery stuff is bogus, Dean, I am so over it. Now talk to me, man. What happened?"

"You really want to know?" His brother looked up, the lamplight over his shoulder caught his eyes, highlighted the tense line of his jaw. "I was angry, Sam. I was angry at Dad for getting himself killed. I was angry at you for leaving. Hell, I was angry at both of you for smashing everything apart in the first place. But mostly I was angry with myself, because I was twenty-four years old and I didn't have a fucking life of my own."

His voice had risen and Maddy stirred unhappily, her discontented squeaks rising to loud cries, almost drowning out his angry words.

"You think I wasn't angry?" Sam demanded, temper flaring. "Dad told me to leave, he cut me out of his life. And you? You just went along. Turned your back on me, Dean. Do you have any idea how it feels to find out that your father is dead in a text message? To not have one person to turn to who understands what you're grieving for? You think it doesn't kill me that the last thing I said to him..." Sam choked up, couldn't get it out.

The last thing he'd told his father was to go to hell. Sam had racked his brain for days, but for the life of him he couldn't remember the last thing he said to Jess. He couldn't even remember if he'd kissed her goodbye when he went out that night.

Maddy's cries had grown in volume and Dean lifted her from her crib and cradled her, patting her back gently. "Shh," he whispered. "I'm here."

Sam turned away, swiping roughly at his eyes with the back of his hand. His anger had died as quickly as it was born, crushed under the remembrance of grief. "Is she okay?" he said thickly.

Maddy's cries died to hiccupping sobs and Sam glanced over his shoulder. Dean was rubbing her back, her little head resting tiredly on his shoulder. "She doesn't like raised voices, I guess," Dean said, pressing a soothing kiss to her temple. "God knows she heard enough of them for the first few months of her life."

Sam heaved a weary sigh and sat down at the table. Maddy's pink blanket had been pulled loose as Dean lifted her, and Sam reached in and straightened it, smoothing his fingertips over the soft quilted cotton. "I'm sorry."

Maddy was drifting off to sleep and Dean sat back on the other chair, still patting her narrow back. "Yeah, me too," he said, his voice drained. "I know I should have called, Sam. I wasn't thinking straight I guess." He shifted Maddy in his arms, curved her closer against him. "I wasn't thinking straight for a long time."

"We all made mistakes," Sam said sadly. "We all did and said stuff we wish we could take back. But we can't let that happen again, Dean. You and me... We're all we've got."

Dean quirked a small smile. "You and me and Maddy," he amended. "Not exactly the picture-perfect family, but we are family, Sam. If we stick together, none of us have to be alone again."

Sam managed a small smile of his own. "Fatherhood making you wise, Dean?"

"Must be," Dean agreed tartly. "I realized one thing, Sammy, when Maddy came along. Dad wouldn't have wanted me to tear myself apart over his death. And I didn't know Jessica - but I don't think she'd have minded you finding some comfort in your family." Dean leaned over and Sam reached out, let his brother gently deposit his sleeping child in his arms. She was a warm, fragile bundle against him, soft snuffling sighs, clean, baby scent.

"Because that's what Maddy does, Sam. It's what she did for me. Made me remember the good things in the world, when for a long time all I could see was the bad. It's what she does best. Well," Dean tilted his head in consideration. "That, and drool. She's a world class drooler."

Sam huffed a chuckle and Maddy rocked in his arms as his chest rose and fell with silent laughter. "Shh," he admonished. "Don't make me laugh."

"Put her back in her crib," Dean advised. "If you pick her up every time she cries, you're just gonna spoil her."

"If I pick her up?" Sam whispered indignantly. "You're the one..."

"I'm going out to get dinner," Dean interrupted, pulling on his socks. "Pizza okay?"

Sam glared at him for a moment longer, then rolled his eyes. "Fine."

Dean grinned.

Continued in Part Five