This story is the third in the Three Knives series.
While it can be read as a standalone piece, I highly recommend its predecessors, Three Knives and Three Deaths.
However you decide to go about it, please enjoy!
"I'm not wearing it!"
"Dean, come on, pleeaase?!"
Dean Winchester dodged Allison Smith's attempts to slide a plastic tiara onto his head. The cake in his hands tipped dangerously as they danced around the kitchen.
"Not in a million years!" Dean insisted, putting himself on the opposite side of the center island from Allison. She put her hands together, begging him to reconsider.
"Dean, she's so bummed out about today not going as planned!" Allison plead. "We have to do everything we can to make it perfect for her! Please!"
"Look, I've been up since four AM putting up streamers and blowing up balloons- hell, I even baked, Allison! If you asked me a year or two ago, I'd have told you there was no way in hell you would ever catch me dead baking a cake! Although I gotta admit, frosting it was pretty fun."
"Dean!" Allison whined, shaking the tiara at him. He held the cake between them like a shield. Allison was so worried about the party going as planned that there was no way she would risk hurting the pink monstrosity, even to slap the pretty princess tiara atop his head.
"It's not my fault the damn neighbor's kid pussied out at the last minute!" Dean protested. "Not my fault Sam didn't make it in, not my fault-"
"Will you shut up, man up and wear the damn crown?!" Allison demanded. "For Mary?!"
"Well, I guess I do love Mary a lot," Dean said, pretending to consider for a moment. Allison smiled and stepped around the counter to approach him. She held the crown out and Dean took it with a look of distaste.
"I don't love her that much though!" he decided. He tossed the tiara over Allison's head, taking the cake and making a break for the dining room as Allison cursed him out and chased the tiara. By the time she retrieved it, Dean was calling her.
"Auntie Ally! Come on, now, you're holding the whole thing up!" he said mockingly.
"Bastard," Allison said, rolling her eyes. Leave it to a Winchester.
She hurried into the dining room to find Dean lighting candles in front of the birthday girl. The room was garishly overdecorated with princess party favors, but somehow jarringly empty. The only guests were Shimmer, Mary's orange-furred cat, and Castiel, Dean's tan-coated angel. Both wore tiaras and judging from their expressions, both were entirely unamused with the ceremony. Nevertheless, they both sat in their chairs and played along, both without comment.
"... five, six, seven, and one for good luck!" Dean exclaimed as he lit the final candle. "Ally, hit it!"
Allison switched the lights off and led the song.
"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you!"
It didn't take her long to realize that she and Dean were the only ones singing. She caught Castiel's gaze and gave him a significant look. He frowned at her in consternation, so she covertly ratcheted up the pressure.
Sing, bird-brain, or I'll take witchcraft up again just so I can put a pox on your dandruffy wings, she signed at him.
"My wings are completely free from dandruff," Castiel grumbled under the chorus. Regardless, he joined the song, his voice deep, flat and somewhat off-beat.
"Happy birthday, dear Mary! Happy birthday to yoooouuu!"
"And many more!" Dean added for good measure. He and Allison broke out clapping, both doing it as loud as they could in an attempt to make up for the fact that they were the only ones applauding.
"Make a wish!" Allison urged.
Despite their efforts, Mary spent the entire song watching the door. Dean and Allison both knew what she was waiting for. They both knew she was going to be disappointed. When she did blow out the candles, it was with a lackluster sigh.
"Whoo! Good job!" Dean whooped while Allison switched the light back on. They took their seats, Dean grabbing the knife. He took in Mary's crestfallen expression and held back a frown. He forced a smile.
"Ally, grab the ice cream, would you?" he said. After she left, he scooted his chair closer to Mary's and leaned down conspiratorially. "Hey, what do you say you cut the cake this year?"
"Really?"
"Yeah, you're big enough," Dean assured her, chuckling as she perked up. "Here, hold it like this... go slow and be really careful. Auntie Ally'll kill me if you cut yourself."
"Auntie Ally is silly," Mary giggled, taking the knife from Dean and examining it. Her green eyes lit up with glee and Dean was forced to wonder if he hadn't made a mistake giving the kid the knife. For a second, he thought of someone he hadn't thought of in a very long time. Someone else who got that look in their eye when they had a knife in their hand.
"Slow and steady, that's the ticket," Dean told her, refusing to pay any mind to the memory. He shut it out as stubbornly as always, ignored it until it went away.
"Is my presence here still required?" Castiel asked while Mary hacked the cake apart in slow motion under Dean's close supervision.
"What, you can't at least pretend to be having a good time?" Dean demanded, distracted as he kept his hands close to Mary's, ready to take the knife away in an instant if it started to look like she might nick herself.
"I never put up pretenses of any kind."
"Bull. Don't you at least want to stay for cake?" Dean frowned, afraid of what might happen if Mary's already small party diminished in size before the presents were even opened.
"It's ok, Daddy," Mary assured him with a gloomy sigh as she set the knife down on the table, having thoroughly butchered the cake Dean spent so many hours preparing. The fleeting joy of handling a blade almost as long as her arm had already taken its leave and Mary was downcast again. "He's got bingo on Thursdays. It's Thursday today."
"He's got- What?" Dean frowned, bewildered. He was assaulted by a mental image of Castiel and his default deadpan expression surrounded by old ladies, tracking a scorecard with all the emotional investment of a dead trout.
"The boss, as you so often call her, has said she no longer requires my presence," Castiel told Dean. "I will take my leave now. If you find yourself in imminent danger of dying, call for me."
With that, he vanished, tiara and all. Shimmer mewled and switched seats with a dainty, precise leap, claiming the now forsaken place of honor at the birthday girl's right.
"Daddy, is Uncle Sammy coming at all today?" Mary asked.
"He, uh... well... he said he would try," Dean said.
"That's what he said at Christmas too," Mary sighed. "And Thanksgiving. And the fourth of July... Why is he so busy all the time?"
"He's just working, sweetie. He wants to be here, but... sometimes people have responsibilities, you know? Things they said they would do ahead of time."
"Like how Uncle Sammy keeps saying he'll visit?"
"Uh... well, yeah," Dean said, realizing he'd made a mistake. "But... you see..."
"Dean, stop," Allison groaned, reentering the room with ice cream and a scoop. "Don't worry about Uncle Sam, Mary. When he does get here, he's taking you to Fun City to make up for missing your party."
"But I wanted people at my party," Mary protested, voice growing dangerously whiny. Allison started scooping ice cream as fast as she could, hoping fervently that she could serve it fast enough to ward off a meltdown. "Madison Sanders down the street had so many people at her birthday party. They had so much fun! I want a big fun party full of friends like she had! How come I don't have any friends?!"
"Uh, honey-"
"You wouldn't even let cousin Mikey come to my party! Why, Auntie Ally?!"
Dean and Allison both knew Mary was winding up for a tantrum.
"Presents!" Dean yelled. "Let's skip the ice cream and go open some presents, huh? Whaddaya say?"
"Dean!" Allison snapped with a scowl. She wasn't a disciplinarian, but Dean's parenting style bordered on bribery and she blamed him for Mary developing something of a spoiled streak. "Mary Grace Winchester, you're one word away from being sent to your room! Take a breath!"
Dean shrank back, crossing his arms over his chest in the face of Allison's stern tone. Mary pulled it together too, doing as she was told and taking a long, deep breath.
"Now do you have something you'd like to say to me?" Allison prompted.
"Sorry, Auntie Ally," Mary mumbled.
"For?"
"I'm sorry for yelling."
"I accept your apology. Let's make sure we use our inside voices. Now, we talked about 'cousin Mikey'. Did you forget what I told you?" Allison asked, tone calm and level.
"No, Auntie Ally."
"Good. He hasn't been coming around again, has he?"
"No, Auntie Ally."
"Uh-huh," Allison said suspiciously. "If he does, you'd better tell me about it. Now... who wants ice cream?"
No one raised their hand, but Allison passed the bowls out anyway. Mary squished hers with her spoon dejectedly and Dean couldn't stand how sad she looked. He shot Allison a dirty look that he made sure Mary couldn't see. Allison met his gaze and shook her head minutely.
Don't contradict me in front of her. United front, ok?
Allison's words came back to Dean from a conversation they'd had long ago. He bit his tongue and forced a smile, determined to lift his daughter's spirits. Whatever it took.
"Gimme that!" he grumbled, snatching the tiara off Allison's head. He put it on, striking a few over exaggerated poses to catch Mary's attention. "What do you think? Who wears it better, me or Snow White?"
Mary smiled a little.
"Daddy, boys don't wear tiaras," she said, trying to be serious.
"What? Really? No, I've seen them," Dean shook his head. At his side, Allison laughed. "All the princes in those movies you like are always wearing them."
"Those are crowns, Daddy," Mary giggled.
"Oh, so there's a difference?"
Mary nodded, disappointment temporarily forgotten as she launched into a lecture on the differences between crowns and tiaras, attempting to educate her clueless father. Dean pretended to listen and nodded along, just happy that she was smiling again.
All he wanted in the world was to see her smile.
"... and they all lived happily ever after."
Dean closed the story book. Usually, Mary would have been sleeping by now, but she was wide awake, staring at him with a troubled look on her little face.
"What's wrong?" Dean asked. "Was my big bad wolf voice too scary?"
"No Daddy, I like your scary voice," Mary told him.
"So why the long face?" Dean asked. "Are you still bummed that Sammy didn't make it in?"
"No, it's ok," Mary assured him. "He's taking me to Fun City, so..."
"So what's the problem then?"
Mary thought for a minute before she decided to tell him.
"Daddy, I asked Castiel about my Mommy."
Dean's stomach dropped. Suddenly, he wished he would have let Allison read Mary to sleep tonight.
"Now why would you ask that sourpuss anything when you've got me and Auntie Ally here?" Dean sighed. He'd known this was coming for a few months now. Mary had started socializing with some of the neighbor's kids, and he knew she was starting to wonder why she was the only kid on the block who lived with her father and an Aunt instead of a mother.
"Because you guys never tell me anything," Mary explained. "When I asked Auntie Ally why I don't have a Mommy like Madison Sanders, she just told me it was because I was 'extra special'."
Mary made air quotes around the phrase, serious as a heart attack. She was too cute and Dean almost had a hard time keeping a smile off his face, despite the gravity of the discussion she was trying to have with him.
"And when I asked what 'extra special' meant, she wouldn't tell me."
"Well you could have asked me," Dean pointed out.
"Auntie Ally told me not to ask you."
"What? Why?"
"She said it would make you sad if I asked you," Mary explained.
Dean rolled his eyes.
"Daddy's too tough to get sad," he said.
"That's what I told Auntie Ally! And she said that was silly and everyone gets sad sometimes."
"Well, she's not wrong.. but the only thing that ever makes me sad is when my baby is sad," Dean assured her.
"Mrs. 'Pala` gets sad?" Mary asked with a confused frown.
"No, not the car. You, crazy!" Dean chuckled.
"Oh."
"So... you better brighten up before you make your poor pops cry."
"I will."
While Dean was trying to cheer Mary up and put her to bed, Allison was pouring herself a third mug of boxed wine. For the fifteenth time, she made a mental note to buy buy the proper glasses to accompany her newest vice. She settled down on the couch and switched on the TV. At first, she'd been resentful that Dean stuck her with the cleanup while he called dibs on tucking Mary in to sleep, but she felt better after he took thirty minutes longer to finish his task than she did. By the time he emerged from Mary's room, Allison had already turned the TV to her preferred channel and snaked the batteries out of the remote.
Allison expected him to be sore about losing the chance to choose the show they watched, but he didn't even spare the TV a glance.
"That damned feather brain! I swear, I'm gonna kill him!" Dean fumed on his way to the fridge. Allison swiveled her head around to watch him as he made his way to the couch, muttering all the while.
"Cas catch you on the toilet again?" she asked. Dean plopped down next to her so hard that she was jolted up a few inches by the impact.
"No, he upset Mary," Dean growled.
"What? How?"
"Oh, you know how she's been sulking around all day, all sad about Madison and Sam missing her party? Well, that high and mighty, holier-than-thou, trench-coated turd told her she's a-"
Dean leaned toward Allison and air-quoted aggressively.
"- 'abominable freak of nature'-"
Allison choked on her wine, spitting it back into the mug just in time to avoid spewing it all over the cream sofa.
"- so now she thinks Sam and Madison are avoiding her. Because-"
"Why would he tell her that?!" Allison demanded once she recovered from her brief, intense coughing fit.
"She asked him why she doesn't have a mother."
Dean's words took a second to sink in properly. When they finally finished rattling around in Allison's brain and settled into their final destinations, her mouth fell open. She covered it with a hand, eyes wide as she realized she had some responsibility in this train-wreck.
"Castiel told her Alice didn't want her because of what she is," Dean finished. He cracked his beer open and took a long swig while Allison shook her head.
"Did you tell her-"
"Of course," Dean said. "What, like I'm gonna let her keep thinking that's true?"
"How is she now?"
"Still sad, but not as sad."
"My god."
"Yeah."
Allison sipped her wine and Dean drained his entire bottle in two long drinks.
"So, my question is, what's the nastiest thing you think I can do to Cas without him liquefying my bones as payback?" Dean wondered.
"I don't know... lock him in a closet with Shimmer? Shimmer would love the opportunity to mark him up."
"Ok Einstein, and when he liquefies Shimmer? Then what? The goal is to get back at him for being a dick to Mary, not get her cat killed."
Dean kept brainstorming vengefully, while Allison found herself wondering about something else.
"Dean, what... what did you tell Mary?" she ventured. "About what really happened when she was born. About why Alice really left her?"
"Well, I thought about telling her about how Alice was a selfish, soulless sicko who didn't want a kid raining on her parade."
"Oh god, please tell me that's not what you told her!" Allison groaned, preparing herself to go comfort Mary and work damage control.
"No! Of course not! I'm not stupid, Allison!"
"So? What did you tell her?"
Allison chewed the inside of her cheek while she waited for Dean to get over his hesitance and answer her question.
"Well... I, uh... I told her she doesn't have a mother, because... well, I told her that hers is... dead."
Allison let her eyes slide shut. She took a few deep, calming breaths.
"You. Muttonhead!" she snapped, unable to contain her frustration with him despite her best efforts. "Why would you tell her such a stupid lie?!"
"Allison, we haven't heard anything from your sister in years," Dean pointed out. "She could be dead for all we know!"
"And what if she isn't?"
"So what if she isn't?"
"Dean, what if she comes back someday? How the hell are you gonna explain that to Mary, huh?"
"She's not gonna come back," Dean scoffed.
"Ok, but what if she does? Didn't you stop to think that Mary might be more upset by you lying to her than she would be by the truth?"
"I couldn't tell her the truth, ok? It's... it's ugly, Allison!" Dean snapped. "She's a god-damned angel, ok?! She didn't deserve what Alice did to her, and she doesn't deserve to have to live knowing about it! I'm just trying to protect her, ok?!"
"Shh, you want to wake her up?!"
Allison thought carefully about what she wanted to say next. Her hands shook, so she set her mug down on the coffee table for fear of spilling the wine.
"Mary's a tough kid," she said, her voice deceptively low and steady. She could have throttled Dean. "She can handle more than you give her credit for."
"Allison, just 'cause she can handle something doesn't make it ok to dump this crap on her," Dean growled. "She's my little girl, and-"
"She's not just yours, Dean!"
Allison wanted to remind Dean that if not for her involvement, he never even would have known Mary, but she bit her tongue. It was too harsh, too hurtful. She didn't want to go there.
"Look, just... you need to fix this before it comes back to bite you," Allison said. "Tell her you lied, explain why... if you don't want to tell her the truth, that's fine. Tell her to ask when she's older."
"You putting her off is the whole reason she went to Cas in the first place," Dean pointed out. "Now you want me to make the same mistake?"
"Either you tell her you lied, or I will," Allison said firmly. "Alice is gonna come back someday, Dean. When she does-"
"If Alice ever has the nerve to show her face here, I'll call the Smiths myself," Dean snapped. "She has no right-"
"She's my sister! I want to see her again more than anything in the world! WHEN she comes around-"
"IF she comes-"
"- I swear to god, Dean, you'd better not-"
"- just abandon people and then waltz-"
"- with MY family because you can't get over-"
"- too damn confusing for Mary, and besides-"
The conversation degenerated into hissed whisper-shouting and enraged finger-shaking as accusations and threats were traded. Neither Dean nor Allison actually understood any of what the other was saying because they were each too busy trying to talk over the other without actually raising their voices. Neither wanted to let the other get a word in edgewise, but both were determined not to disturb Mary. They kept at it for a good five minutes, before a sound from the back room silenced them both.
THUMP.
Allison and Dean froze, argument forgotten instantly.
"Shimmer?" Allison suggested. Dean shook his head.
"Too light. That was something over a hundred pounds, easy. Cas?"
"He's not the clumsy type."
"Smiths again?"
"Doubtful. They stopped sneaking in after I hexed Louise."
"Burglars?"
"On our street?"
A quiet rattle from the back room caught their attention and they both fell silent.
"Unluckiest burglars in the world?" Allison shrugged.
Dean rolled his eyes.
"Go stay with Mary. I'll get the shotgun."
"Don't shoot any humans!" Allison warned as he made for his room. "The last thing I need is a crime scene in the room where I keep my talismans!"
Dean ducked into what had once been Allison's guest room. They still called it the guest room, but in truth, he was the only guest who'd graced it in over five years. He was all but moved in at this point. He grabbed a shotgun off the top shelf in his closet and snuck back out into the dark hall. Behind him, Allison slipped quietly into Mary's room and softly closed the door behind her. Dean advanced on the door at the end of the hall. Within, he heard muffled shuffling and quiet, nigh imperceptible rustling. Whoever was in the house was going through Allison's things.
Dean took a deep breath and turned the door handle slowly, in excruciatingly subtle increments. He thought about bursting in quickly, but didn't want to risk spooking an armed burglar and getting himself shot. Then again, he considered, sneaking into the room was just as dangerous. At least this way, he could get a look at the burglar before they noticed him. If they were armed, he could get out again. If not, he could announce himself and chase them out of the house.
Dean peered past the door the minute it cracked open, scanning the room with bated breath. All he saw was darkness. He opened the door further, heart in his throat, heat racing up and down his back as he widened his view. His eyes adjusted slowly to the darkness within, pupils widening enough for him to see a shadowy figure going through Allison's desk.
CREEAAAK.
The door hinges groaned, crying out for oil with a low, desperate squeak that caused Dean's heart to drop like a bowling ball into the deepest pit of his stomach. The intruder whipped around in time to see Dean throw the door open, discarding caution as he was discovered.
"Hey!" he called, raising the shotgun threateningly. "Don't move!"
Dim light streamed in from the kitchen at the end of the hall, but the intruder ducked and rolled before it could illuminate them. Dean almost got a shot off, but hesitated for a split second, Allison's words echoing in his mind.
Don't shoot any humans!
The split-second was all it took for their uninvited guest to grab the barrel of the shotgun, thrusting it skywards as Dean fired, too late. Plaster rained down on him and his attacker as they tussled in the doorway, grunting with effort as each fought to wrest the shotgun away from the other. Dean brought his leg up to kick the intruder away, but they moved faster, a bony elbow striking his cheek and driving him back.
"Ugh!"
Dean pulled the shotgun back as far as he could, then gave in to the other's pulling. The butt of the weapon slammed into their face. When they cried out in pain, it was a woman's voice. She was dazed for a second and Dean took full advantage of the opening. His fist slammed into her stomach. She doubled over and he seized her, lifting her just high enough that when he threw her to the ground, the house shook around them with the force of her impact. She lay breathless and bleeding at his feet. Dean stepped over her, going just far enough to flip the light switch.
"Who the hell are you?" he asked right before light flooded the hall. "And what the hell are you doing in my house?"
Alice Smith squinted in the sudden light and glared up at him from the carpeted floor.
"Well, it's good to know you missed me, Dean," she grumbled, clutching her stomach with one arm and wiping a bloody nose with the other.
Dean gaped at her, speechless for a few minutes.
"Well. Speak of the devil," he finally managed, stunned. "And she shall appear."
This had to be some kind of sick joke. How could this be happening to him? Could it possibly have happened at a worse time?
Just when he thought his day couldn't get any more twisted, Allison stalked up behind him with her hands on her hips and punched his shoulder just hard enough to hurt.
"Told you so," she taunted.
This can't be happening, Dean thought helplessly as Alice struggled to her feet. There's no way in hell this is really happening. Not after all this time. Not like this. What the hell is this? Did we summon her somehow? Or is it a freak coincidence? Can't be.
After all, accidents didn't just happen accidentally.
Allison stepped forward to hug her long lost sister, while Dean crossed his arms over his chest and scowled deeply. The surprise of seeing Alice started to wear off and other emotions rushed in to fill the void it left. Some of them he expected, like anger and indignation at the sheer nerve she had showing up here. Others caught him off guard, like the hints of happiness and a subtle twinge of nostalgia. Dean buried those feelings and focused on his rage. How dare she? After all this time. After the things she'd done, the things she'd neglected to do.
"You couldn't have called?" Allison chided.
"I was a little busy," Alice excused herself.
"Wow, busy," Dean put in snidely. "For seven years? Now this, I have to hear. Oh wait, you know what? I think I'm actually too busy."
"Good," Alice snapped, shooting him a dirty look. "I'm not here to see you anyway."
"Oh yeah? Who are you here to see?"
"Allison, of course. And my daughter."
Her words hit Dean like a bucket of ice water, shocking, unpleasant, enough to take his breath away and nearly knock him off his feet.
"Excuse me?" Dean heard himself say. His brain was preoccupied, struggling to keep up with these new developments, trying desperately to imagine the consequences.
"You heard her," Allison said, smiling like this was everything she ever wanted out of life. "She's here to see Mary."
"Mary, huh?" Alice echoed. "Is that her name?"
"Yeah. Mary Grace Winchester."
"Pretty name."
"Thanks. I can't take all the credit. I wanted to name her after Grandma, but Dean wanted to name her after his mom, so we met in the middle," Allison explained, joy making her loose-lipped. Her immediate and unquestioning acceptance of Alice made Dean sick to his stomach. He couldn't let this go on.
"No way! Over my dead body!"
The sisters fixed him with identical blank, bewildered stares.
"What?" Allison asked. At her side, Alice straightened, anger written plainly in the lines of her stance though her expression remained neutral.
"There's no way in hell I'm letting you anywhere near my daughter!" Dean snapped.
"Over your dead body, huh? I can't say I'll be sad to arrange that.
Alice cracked her knuckles and took a step toward Dean.
"Wait, what?! No!"
Allison jumped between them as Dean raised the shotgun.
"She has no idea who you are!" Dean snapped. "You creep in here in the dead of night, unannounced, uninvited, and what, you want us to get Mary up out of bed so we can throw you a welcome party?! You're out of your damn mind!"
"She's my daughter too, Dean! I have the right to see her!" Alice yelled.
"Guys, we need to-"
"You gave that right up when you abandoned her!" Dean barked back. Allison's voice was lost beneath their clamor as they spat over her. She begged them to calm down, begged them to try to be quiet, but it was already too late. Behind Dean, Allison saw Mary's door crack open. She poked her head out, green eyes huge and fearful.
"Dean, give me that!" Allison shouted, taking the shotgun from him in passing. He barely noticed, too engrossed in his screaming match with Alice. "Neither of you kill each other, ok?! Calm the hell down!"
Neither of them heard her, but she didn't have time to care. She made her way past them to Mary, ushering her back into her room and closing the door behind them.
"Auntie Ally, what's going on?" Mary asked.
"Go back to bed, Mary," Allison said, trying to sound gentle in spite of the anxiety roiling in her gut. "Everything's gonna be ok."
"You can't just decide-"
"- don't care what you want, you can't-"
"- doesn't matter anymore, if you just-"
"- literally kill you, for good this-"
Allison wished to god they would shut up. Mary obeyed her and climbed back into bed, but her lips trembled and her wide eyes brimmed with unshed tears of confusion and distress.
"Scooch over, will you," Allison sighed. She climbed into bed alongside Mary and held her close. Mary wrapped her arms tight around her Aunt, burying her face in Allison's shoulder. Allison stroked her hair and covered her ears, humming a lullaby. She didn't know what else she could do.
"Everything's ok," she told Mary softly as the child quivered in her embrace. "I promise everything's ok. I promise."