"You want me to meet your family?" Dealia asked Derek over the kitchen island. She felt her face flush, and her heart beat quickly in her chest. She hadn't gotten along with her ex-husband's family at all, granted every last one of them happened to be a piece of shit, but still, at least they were hunters.
"Yes," Derek answered her for the third time in the last ten minutes. "I know we haven't been….I guess officially talking for very long, but they're flying in for Christmas, and I don't know when either you or I will have the time to fly out and meet them before the baby is born." The sound of Micky Mouse Club House echoed into the kitchen from the living room, where the twins were momentarily captivated by the television. Dealia searched her mind for something to say.
"What have you told them?" She asked finally. She was wearing a pair of black sweatpants and a dark x-large t-shirt.
"I haven't told them anything yet." He said, once again catching her off guard.
"You haven't told them?" He shook his head, "then you don't even know if they're going to want to meet me."
"They are going to want to meet you." He assured her. "Why wouldn't they want to meet you?"
"I…I don't know." She picked at her fingernails, her eyes dropping down to the countertops. Derek watched her for a moment, trying to figure out where her hesitation was coming from. "I mean, you said they would be excited, but it's not like you and I were dating and accidentally got pregnant; we were just fucking around and got pregnant. Those are two different things."
"That's not what they're going to focus on," Derek said. "Are they going to give me shit? Absolutely, but that will not affect how they look at or treat you." He leaned forward, so his elbows were on the counter, and he dipped his head down slightly to get her to look at him again. "Is that what you're worried about?"
"No," she said quickly. Derek didn't quite buy her answer.
"Then what are you worried about?" She was silent for several moments before she sighed and shrugged. "I promise you, they are going to love you.."
"They aren't going to be put off by this being my fifth kid?"
"No." He said simply before what she said really sunk in. "Fifth kid? Don't you mean fourth?"
"I uh-"Dealia bit her tongue, her eyes widening as she thought back to what was actually the worse time of her life. "No, I mean fifth….I had a daughter…She was killed…-I don't want to talk about it." Dealia shook her head and licked her lips. "But, um, fourth kid." She said, her hand moving to rest on her bump.
Derek watched her as she went back to focusing on dinner. She had turned around to face the stove. "My mom is just going to be happy she's finally getting grandkids; she's not really going to care how she gets em or from who." He decided to continue as if she hadn't said what she did. He wasn't going to push her; it truly wasn't any of his business until she wanted it to be. He walked around the island and came up behind her.
"What are you going to tell them?" Dealia asked as she felt him behind her. He didn't understand her question.
"What do you mean?"
"About us, what are you going to tell them?" She turned slightly and looked up at his face.
"The truth." He said simply, shrugging. "Just trying to make the best out of an iffy situation." She pursed her lips like that wasn't the answer she wanted from him and looked back down at the soup she was concocting. "Just tell me what's got you all worked up." He pulled her into him by her hips. At 20 weeks, and with this not being her first kid, she was really showing, so he moved his hands to rest on top of the bump.
"This isn't worked up." She joked, "There's nothing wrong; I'm just curious." She glanced up at him to see his disbelieving face.
"We'll something is bothering you," Derek said. "Why are you so nervous about meeting them? I didn't think that'd be something that freaked you out."
"Well, let's just say that the last time a man brought me home to meet his family, it didn't end well." She said, then she chuckled and rephrased her words, "well, it wasn't that bad for me, but it still wasn't the most fun. It wasn't my fault, though. Well, maybe it was."
Derek's eyebrows furrowed as he processed what she said, "you, uh, going to tell me what happened?"
"Well, to be fair, they were, or are, a part of the people I work with, and they weren't happy with the idea of the FBI getting involved with their precious man-child. And, of course, they blamed me for that, which was my fault, but- he was in the wrong a lot more often than I was." She said, the last little bit coming out quite defensively; she even looked at him to make sure he believed her. The sudden tidbit of information spurred several questions in his head.
"Wait, your ex was involved with what you do?"
"Yes. He and I met before the FBI found me."
"What does Seth know?" Dealia chewed on her cheek as she thought about how to answer him.
"He knows more than I would like to. But his dad hadn't hidden anything from him before I came into the picture; even at five, he had a very advanced understanding of what was happening around him." She shook her head. "And as much as I wanted to keep him out of it, his father insisted he be trained, and when I first started going out of town, there wasn't much I could do to stop it, especially when Seth wanted to learn."
"I take it you no longer train him?"
"Right. I let him practice martial arts, but that's about it." At that moment, the part of Derek's brain that believed a parent really shouldn't have control over what their child chose to be as an adult spoke up as long as it wasn't illegal. He knew that if his mother had her way, he wouldn't be a federal agent; she would pluck him out of the field and put him behind some nice safe desk if given the opportunity.
"What if it's something he wants to do as an adult?" Derek saw the vein in her forehead begin to protrude.
"No," she said strictly. "Absolutely not." He thought about pushing on it but decided he should probably keep his nose out of it. "He can be anything else under the sun. Hell, I don't care if he's a cop or a federal agent. Any other law enforcement or department, just not this one. And that goes for all the kids."
"Okay, okay." Derek held his hands up in surrender. He couldn't talk about this until he had a better understanding of what it was she did, and there was no real sense in arguing when he had no idea what he was fighting about. He also didn't want to process the fact that the 14-year-old essentially had a higher security clearance than Derek did. So, Derek decided to lighten the mood.
His eyes flicked to the wooden spoon sitting in the pot of simmering soup on the stovetop. Dealia's immediately picked up on the shift in his attention.
"No, no, no." Dealia attempted to reach for the spoon, but Derek pulled it away before she could grab it, turning them so he was closer to the pot so her sudden movements didn't accidentally knock the contents onto them. "It's not ready!" She said. He held it above her head and turned away from her.
"It tastes ready." He said, glancing at her as if it see if he could get past her for another spoonful. "What are we waiting on? The pasta?" She snatched the spoon away from him once she could reach it. She went to walk towards the fridge, but he looped his fingers in her belt loops and pulled her back against him. The top of her head met perfectly with the top of his shoulders, so when she fell against him, it was solidly against his chest. He dipped his head down, his nose barely brushing against her ear, when someone cleared their throat behind them. Dealia nearly jumped out of her skin and broke away from Derek.
"Really, mom? In the kitchen?" Dealia narrowed her eyes at her son. Derek scratched the back of his neck and tried not to grin at the flustered look on Dealia's face.
"I thought you and your friends were in the guest house?" Dealia asked him.
"I came to get some popcorn." He said as he walked into the pantry. Derek reached for Dealia again once the boy was out of sight, and she swatted at his hand. She moved to the fridge and pulled out a plastic container of cheese and a carton of heavy whipping cream. When she returned from the fridge, she generously mixed the cream and followed up with the different cheeses, none of which she measured. "When will dinner be done?" Seth asked once he came out of the pantry.
"Give it, like, 10 more minutes or so. But y'all don't have to come immediately; I'll leave it out for a bit before putting it away." He nodded. His eyes flicked to Derek, but he didn't acknowledge the man outside that glance. Derek waited until he heard the sound of the front door before he spoke.
"He doesn't like me," Derek said.
"It's not personal," Dealia said, picking up the pot of pasta and moving to pour it into the strainer in the sink. Her voice implied she had more to say, almost like she was deciding what she wanted to say. She looked down at the pasta in the sink and froze for a moment. "He was…he was there when his father shot me." Derek's eyes widened, not expecting the conversation to shift in that direction. He'd been wondering what exactly happened, but you don't just ask someone why they got shot; it doesn't roll off the tongue quite right.
"Oh…." Derek wasn't really sure what to say to that. His mind immediately flashed back to what had happened to his father. He remembered the fear and confusion he felt as a child. "How old was he when it happened?"
"Almost 12." She said. "He um….I met his father when he was 5; he and I were together for 6 years, married for 4."
"What about his biological mother?"
"Honestly, I don't know what happened; she tried coming back into his life after…um, when he was about 8 or so. By that time, I had pretty much taken over everything with Seth. I spoke to his teachers and helped with projects; he wanted me when he had nightmares or was sick. David wouldn't let her see him, but I felt it was important, and I met with her at a park just to talk. I didn't bring Seth with me; I wanted to make sure she actually planned on sticking around. But she told me off that I wasn't his mother and yadda ya."
"What ended up happening with her?"
"I punched her in the face," Derek snorted, "-and I haven't heard from her since." Dealia shrugged.
"You punched her?"
"She said he wasn't my son!" Dealia said, her voice getting higher as she exclaimed. "He is my son."
"In the park? Did people see you?" Derek couldn't keep the small smile off his face as he imagined her punching someone in the front. Dealia shrugged in answer to his question.
"Did your ex find out?"
"Yeah, and he was pissed." She said, going to the cabinet and grabbing two larger bowls and two of the twin's bowls. She didn't offer any more information on the subject, and Derek debated on just leaving it alone, but he decided against it.
"Wait, you've been in Seth's life since he was five?" Derek asked; Dealia spared him a quick glance as she filled the bowls with a decent amount of the soup. She nodded. "So you would have been 17 when you got with his dad." Dealia gritted her teeth to keep her face somewhat blank as she realized what he'd picked up on; it was her fault for bringing up David.
"Yes, we got together when I was 17."
"How old was their father?" She grimaced as she handed him his bowl, and he automatically reached for one of the smaller bowls so she didn't have to carry three of them into the living room.
"Funny story, actually." Derek raised his eyebrows and followed her into her living room. "He was 28."
"28, then? Or he's 28 now?"
"He's 37 now." Dealia sunk onto her cream-colored couch. It was facing her atrium. Derek hadn't ever seen a home with an "atrium," and when he saw hers for the first time, he thought it was ridiculous. It essentially was a large interior courtyard that she'd built her entire house around. The whole bottom and second floor had glass walls surrounding the atrium, including the bedrooms. Each room had full blackout curtains for privacy, but the entire design was something he'd expect to see in a home and garden magazine.
Her style was very odd to him, almost like a young girl was given unlimited money to decorate her dream house however she pleased. The atrium offered a significant amount of sunlight into the area, which was maximized by the warm colors and the plants that Dealia used to decorate her space.
Derek wasn't sure what to respond with. He was already a little uncomfortable with their current age gap and learning this didn't make him feel any better. Dealia placed the bowl she had for one twin on the glass coffee table, and Derek set him down next to it.
"Yeah….it was a pretty bad situation." Dealia was hoping he'd drop it; it wasn't really something she liked talking about. David had managed to back her into a corner as a teenager. While her therapist had really put effort into convincing her that she wasn't the problem in that relationship, her father had raised her better, and no one could tell her she didn't know any better.
"We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to." He said. The twins then noticed them. Oliver ran up to his mother's side, his hands moving as he signed to her, asking what it was she made for dinner. Derek watched the exchange, wondering what it was the boy said. He'd started watching a few videos on sign language the moment he learned that Dealia's son was deaf, but it was much more complicated than he'd previously thought. Dealia signed something back to him with a soft smile on her face. Whatever made the boy smile brightly and dig into the bowl, he was followed quickly by Ember.
"On your butt Ember." Dealia corrected as the toddler started balancing on her knees. She fixed her legs without even looking at her mother. It was so weird for Derek, just being there in general. Of course, he wanted a family, but he'd never seen himself with what one would consider a startup family. She was leaning against the armrest, her body angled to where her legs were hanging off right before they overlapped with Derek's; she settled herself ultimately by pulling a dark blue throw blanket over her legs. He fixed that by pulling her legs across the top of his lap, covering himself with the blanket in the process. He wasn't sure why exactly he couldn't keep his hands off of her for more than five minutes when they were in the same room together, but she didn't seem to mind.
He scooted them over slightly, so her thighs were pressed against his, and he rested the bowl of soup on top of the blanket and, too, began eating. Dealia watched him for a moment, the heat from his body flushing more than just the red on her face.
"Are you sleeping over again?" Dealia asked after ensuring the twins weren't making too much of a mess. They were still somewhat entranced in television, Oliver more so than Ember, who would periodically look back at the adults.
"I was planning on it." He said, taking a bite of his own soup. The cheese seemed to seep into his tongue, and he savored the flavor a moment before swallowing. Out of everything he loved about Dealia, her cooking was up in the top10 percent.
"Is it good?" Dealia questioned, though she could tell from the look on his face once the spoon left his lips.
"Mmhm." He answered, taking another large bite once he'd swallowed the last.
It was almost too perfect; things were going too well. Dealia couldn't remember a time in her life when things felt this easy or when she'd been this happy. Derek had fallen so quickly into her day-to-day life. Ember adored him, but Oliver didn't seem to care one way or the other, really, as long as he had Dealia, he was happy, and Dealia knew that Seth would come around if she thought he really hated Derek, then she wouldn't have let the man be over as much as he has been.
"What?" Derek had seen the thoughtful look in her eyes.
"Nothing." She said quickly, her eyes moving down to her own food. Derek, of course, didn't believe her, but he did catch the slight smile on her lips as she stirred the contents of her bowl. His eyes flickered to the two redheaded toddlers; once he saw their attention, not on them, he slowly began to sneak his hand underneath the blanket and up between her thighs; he wasn't going to go too far; he just wanted to play with her for a moment,, at least until he heard the sound of the front doorknob rattling and he was forced to rip his hand away. Her eyes bore daggers into his, but the look of murder in her eyes was greatly contradicted by the rapid rise and fall of her chest and the redness that blossomed from the dip in her V-neck up to her cheeks.
Seth and three of his friends piled into the house. They headed straight for the kitchen as Derek smirked, his hand moving to rest innocently on top of her thigh, which was now pressing tightly into the other. "You're so tense." He teased sweetly, his fingers beginning to massage her flesh. The noise she made to him was almost a growl, and her fingers were white as they gripped her spoon. Derek eventually forced himself to let her eat in peace, but it took more willpower to do so than he'd ever admit.
000
Ayla's eyes felt heavy, almost like each lid had a 10-pound weight hanging from the lids and her head was pounding. She took a deep breath, only for air in her lungs to be brutally evicted as the dirt and dust attempted to settle. She was forced to roll as her chest constricted. Tears stung the backs of her eyes and her throat felt dry and cracked.
Memories of what happened moments before, or it at least felt like moments before, flew through her head. She remembered mommy and daddy yelling outside her room. She remembered climbing out of bed, her Elsa nightgown rubbing against the bottoms of her legs as her feet sunk into her fluffy barbie rug that was centered underneath her bed.
She remembered creeping up to her bedroom door that was cracked, making it there just in time for her mother's pregnant shadow to disappear around the corner of the hall. Ayla pushed her door open, her body freezing as her father's booming voice echoed through the house. She couldn't remember what he said, and it was almost like the rest of the memory played like a movie. She moved down the hall, and the moment she walked around the corner, she saw her father's back, and behind him, she saw her mommy. Mommy's eyes met hers immediately and widened, she didn't get a chance to say anything before Seth's voice sounded from behind the young girl.
"Dad St-"the sound of a gunshot cut off Seth's words and shot through Ayla's eardrums, causing pain to erupt through her head. Ayla couldn't really see what happened through her father's back, but she could see her mother fall from the floor. She didn't understand what happened, what was that noise? Why was her head hurting so bad? Things were blurry after that.
She forced her eyes open and pushed herself up, so her head wasn't on the floor. The little girl didn't recognize the cold wooden floor, nor did she know the furniture once she sat up and looked around. The tears that had stung her eyes were now forcing themselves over the border of her eyes and slowly began to clean the dirt from the unkempt floors from her cheeks.
"M-mommy?" She called out, all the lights were off, the only light coming from underneath the edges of the curtains and a skylight in the kitchen. Her voice was returned with silence. "Mommy…!" Her voice broke and the end and the tears began to fall faster and faster.
She was in a living room, the back of a large L-shaped couch to her right, and a kitchen to her left. There were photos all over the walls, but there wasn't enough light for Ayla to make out the people in the frames. She stood from the ground on shaky legs, her Elsa nightgown still hugging her legs. As she stood, she heard the sound of someone else coughing on the other side of the couch. Her legs froze and it felt like her heart was beating through her chest.
After a few moments of no noise, she almost walked towards the couch to look but then a man's head raised up and her feet instantly propelled her back against the back of the bar in between two of the stools. The sound of the furniture crashing into the bar caused the man's head to snap in her direction.
"What the hell?" Ayla pressed herself even closer to the bar as his gaze studied her. After a moment, he glanced around the room and stood. He once again looked the young girl over, slight recognition settling in the older man's eyes. "Dealia?" He asked skeptically, slowly moving around the couch, not wanting to frighten the girl any more than she already was. With every step he took towards her, she would shuffle back against the unmoving structure.
He eventually stood still and just looked at her until the sound of footsteps descending downstairs filled the downstairs. The man whipped around so he was facing the staircase that was on the opposite side of the living room than the kitchen was on. The man spared the girl one last glance to make sure she hadn't moved before the owner of the noise came into view.
Ayla didn't recognize either of the men, at least not in her terror-stricken state, but they recognized one another. "Bobby?" The man who had been speaking to Ayla originally questioned the man at the top of the steps. "What the hell are you doing here? Where are we?"
"John?" There was a critical level of disbelief in Bobby's voice, and it made the pit in John's stomach deepen slightly.
"Yeah," John answered, taking a step forward.
"Ah, ah, stay there for a moment, won't ya?" John frowned at the hesitation in the other man's voice. The two of them hadn't ended on the best of terms, but that wasn't very important at the moment.
"We can settle the past l-"
"There shouldn't be nothin' to settle, you've been dead for almost 6 years." John's instant reflex was to call the man crazy, but as he thought back to the last thing he remembered, it was the demon signing John's soul away as he brought Dean back to life in exchange for John's soul. John's eyes narrowed in confusion. Bobby slowly descended the stairs, and once he got about halfway, he caught sight of the little girl huddled up against the back of the bar, still frozen in fear.
The girl's red hair and her glassy tear-filled green eyes were also familiar to Bobby, just as much as they had been to John. John followed his gaze. She looked like Dealia did when she was around five. His Dealia was about to turn 10.
"Dealia?" Bobby asked the crying girl who didn't answer him.
"I…" John said, not really knowing where he was going, "Wait, you're saying I'm dead?" John asked him.
"Yes," Bobby said slowly as he continued down the stairs. Flashes from his time in the hospital moved through his head. Images of the stricken faces of Sam, Dean, and the triplets at the end of the bed, staring at him. He remembered writing the note, he remembered the sound of the heart monitor going flat. "I think….I think I died too though." He added, causing John's confusion to deepen. "What's the last thing you remember?"
"Um…I remember the demon. He…it felt like a heart attack." John said finally, the pieces starting to make a little more sense. "What about you?"
"I got shot," Bobby said simply and he turned his full attention to the girl who looked suspiciously like the two's shared granddaughter. "Dealia?" He asked again, moving through the room, stopping once he reached the edge of the couch, leaving about four or so feet between him and Ayla.
She was looking back and forth between the two men. Her tears had slowed just a little bit and she began to hiccup slightly. "Mom—hic-mmmy." She said, her voice so quiet that the men almost didn't hear her.
"My Dealia is almost 10," John said suddenly.
"Mine is 16." The idea was crazy to John, and it was weird for Bobby too, but he was more used to time travel and could digest the weird just a tad easier. Bobby took another step forward and crouched down, so he was closer to her level.
"What's your mommy's name?" Ayla's hiccups didn't settle and the attention of the unfamiliar men caused the tears to spring back up again. When it became clear that she wasn't going to be able to answer, Bobby looked back to John.
"She looks like Dealia did when she was around five."
"Isn't that about the time you and Dean got the triplets from their mother?" John nodded.
"But…" He shook his head. For some reason, he didn't think it was Dealia. Bobby turned back to her.
"Its okay sweetie." He said, forcing himself to smile at least a little bit. "We're not going to hurt ya." He said. Ayla's eyes continued shifting between the two men. "I'll see if I can calm er' down." Bobby directed at John. As much as Bobby wanted to clear John before letting the other man out of his sight, he figured calming the girl down and figuring out who she was would be harder if he pulled a knife out on John. "Why don't you see if you can figure out where and when we are?" Bobby half expected the other man to argue, considering it was all he really knew how to do, but he was pleasantly surprised he just listened. Then again he shouldn't have been surprised. It was nothing new for a Winchester man to book it at the first sight of tears.
Once John left the room, Bobby went back to work on the girl. Like John said, she looked to be about 5 or so. Her Long wavy red hair came down to her lower back. She was wearing a blue nightgown with an animated character that Bobby didn't recognize all blown up on the front of it. "Do you know who I am?" He asked her. He wasn't really expecting an answer, considering how much fear was on her face, but she shook her head no. "Do you know him?" Bobby asked, jacking his thumb back in the direction of where John went. Once again, back and forth her head went. Bobby huffed slightly as he thought through a small list of possible yes or no answers that might be helpful.
"Is your name Dealia?" He asked, hoping she might answer it this time.
"Mo-mo-mommy." She whimpered, her body slowly sinking to the floor as she pushed herself further and further into the unmoving structure, not wanting the man to move any closer to her.
"Is that you're mommy's name?" He asked her and this time she nodded, and Bobby felt a twinge of disbelief shoot up his spine.
"Bobby!" He heard John's voice from another room, Bobby stood but John made it back into the room before Bobby even took a step in the direction of John's voice. When he came back into the room, he held a small stack of mail. "This is Alex's Cabin." He said, holding up a letter addressed to Alexander Reid. Bobby's eyebrows furrowed and he looked at the girl.
"And apparently, she's Dealia's kid."
