John Winchester was a lying bastard.
Companion piece to Deception
Received some lovely feedback from first attempt, so thought would have another go. Similar to Deception, not the same though. Hope you like.
John Winchester had been a liar for as long as he could remember. As a kid, and a teen, he had enjoyed it, enjoyed how good at it he was. That he could make anyone believe anything. It hadn't mattered that he was a good liar in the marines, just helped to supplement his pay cheque with substantial poker winnings, and kept him out of trouble the few times he was in it.
He had stopped, briefly, when he and Mary had been together. Damned psychology major, she could read him like a book, and beat him at poker. He had fallen in love with her, everything about her, even the mischievous cackle that meant she hadn't been bluffing, and yes, she was holding onto a royal flush, damned woman, and he had just lost more money than he ever had at poker.
But then, he'd been lying to her too, though he hadn't known it at the time. That time when she had been scared, right before they leapt out of the plane together, her excitement for skydiving giving way to terror at the height they were at.
"I didn't think I'd be like this" she had said, giggling nervously.
"It's ok Mary; you're hooked onto an instructor nothing can go wrong. You'll be perfectly safe."
She had accepted that, believed him when he had told her nothing could hurt her.
John Winchester always felt like a broken man when he thought of the lies he had told his wife, the one person in the world he had told himself to never deceive. There were moments, as he thought of the times had had made promises he had failed to keep, when the hurt was all to much, and he would sob, and drink, memories fading in and out until he wrestled himself into a stupor to keep away the hurt.
He hadn't married her because she beat him at poker, though it was in the middle of a game, just after she had bluffed him into folding on a pair of kings when she was carrying a single ace that he realised just how deeply he was in love with her. He had offered the ring up, as his next ante, and she had squealed, dropped her straight and leapt at him across the table. At least he had won one round that night.
Had he lied to her that night? When he had asked her to marry him, and promised to love and protect her forever? Of course he had. He should have known better. It had seemed to easy to break the habit at the time.
He had been sincere, the day when she had turned up unexpectedly at the shop, eyes bright and smile wide. He had thought it was joy at the Cowboys win, she had always been a rabid fan, but she had come flying up to him, and flung herself into his arms, and whispered in his ear, so softly he thought at first he had imagined it.
"I'm pregnant."
There was never any doubt of his joy, as he had choked slightly, and then shouted with joy, and lifted his amazing wife into the air, dancing the two of them around the workshop.
"It's gonna be perfect baby, we're gonna be a perfect family."
He had meant it too. Only to find out he had lied to her almost five years later.
There had been problems during the pregnancy, morning sickness, cravings for out of season fruits, back pain and the like. But overall she had been healthy, he had been happy. He hadn't cared, boy or girl, but both of them couldn't wait till the baby was actually born, pestering the doctor for weeks until she was finally able to disclose the gender of the amazing moving figure they saw on the ultrasound screen.
"Mr and Mrs Winchester, you're going to be having a little boy."
And Mary had been delighted, buying naming books, and blue paint and an array of stuffed animals and sports gear. Baby clothes had come from near and far, neighbours, family, friends and colleagues sending gifts of booties, hats and jumpsuits. The nursery had been amazing, Mary's brother, and his artistic wife sending them away for a weekend to have a break before the baby, and painting a mural of cars and teddy bears onto the walls as they were away. Blue, and green, and brown, and perfect. It had seemed like John was keeping his promises then. But even those that had been momentarily fulfilled were lies. He knew now that everything was a lie.
It had hurt, giving birth to their first baby, and he had known it too, needing to ice his hand afterwards, but he had come, fully healthy, and happy, and trusting. Mary had made the final decision, as she held him in her arms, blue blanket bundled around him. There had been three names they had narrowed it down to, Nathan, Michael and James, but she had taken one look at the baby in her arms, as soon as the nurse had placed him there, with his wide eyes locking onto hers…
"Dean."
"Dean? Why Dean?"
"After James Dean?" She had laughed, a giggle tired by childbirth, "because I read it, in a book sometime."
"And you didn't remember it? In the months of careful baby-name pondering?"
"I know we have a list of three narrowed down. But… I think he looks like a Dean."
John hadn't known exactly what a Dean was supposed to look like, but as he took the baby in his arms, and they made eye contact, and he saw love, and hope and faith, the name made sense.
"Dean."
"Dean Michael."
John told another lie that day, as he placed $100 in a savings account and promised to not to touch it.
People used to comment on what a good baby Dean was, and how surprised they were that John was such a hands on parent.
"He doesn't seem like the nappy-changing type" Mary's sister had informed her one day, as Dean lay in front of them, surrounded by stuffed animals, and cars and blocks.
"I think he's winning on the tally board." Mary had said an amused tone in her voice.
"The tally board?"
"My idea, to make sure we got none of that gender stereotype crap in this house."
John had been listening, not really meaning too, from the other room, and had laughed out loud when she'd said that. His Mary down to a tee, certainly not one to hesitate about delegating.
He supposed he had lied intermittently since Dean had been born, when they had talked about schools, and an extension for the house, other plans that were pointless the minute his life caught on fire.
It became a second skin after she went, taking the better part of him with her, and leaving half a man to be a mum and a dad to a very scared little boy, and his tiny brother.
The lies came thick and fast after that. Words that were easy to say, meaningless and pointless, but easier then everything else in the spinning ocean his life had become.
It started on a car bonnet, with reassurance that turned to ash on his tongue. "Everything will be ok Deano" he had whispered, as he choked back tears, "it'll all be ok."
He lied about remembering things, "Of course I know it's your birthday kiddo, I've just got to pick up your present" he lied about not remembering things, "No Dean, I don't remember how you got the bruise. Why, did you already tell me?"
It got worse as they got older, and he lied more and more, about them being closer to the big bad mummy-stealer, when in fact he had no idea what was close and what was far. He knew Dean made it easier for him to lie, because that was what Dean thought he wanted, and Sammy, well, he didn't care what anyone wanted, just that he wanted out, wanted a home, wanted normal. John was lying especially hard that night, as he screamed at his son never to come home again.
"This life, this HUNT, will never end! Not for you, not for soldier boy over there. I WON'T do it anymore. I've got a full ride dad, and I don't care what you think, I want normal, and this sure as hell ain't it."
"Normal is an illusion boy, and you know it as well as I do. Dean knows it too, that's why he isn't off with any of this college nonsense." He was lying when he didn't say he was proud, because he was, full to bursting, because his boy had gotten himself into a college.
"I'm going dad. You can't stop me."
"You walk out that door Samuel Winchester, and you're never coming back through it."
"Good. I hope I never have to see you or the damn hunt again."
"And I hope I never have to see you again, faking normal." Which was a lie, because he really meant to say, stay Sammy, and I'm sorry, and I wish we could have the life you want. He wanted to scream and call for his boy to come to him, to Dean, so they could have a group hug, and a home.
Instead he slammed the door. And lied to the face of his other son when he walked back in that night, after driving Sam to the bus station.
"You know son, I did the right thing, he's no use to this family if he's prepared to ignore what's really out there."
He was lying, because he knew Dean needed Sammy like Dean needed air, and he was just too damn selfish to stop lying for one minute.
John Winchester hadn't been lying though, that day, when they had been lying in Autumn leaves, with a light rain starting to drizzle on top of them. The impala had been parked a short walk away, and he had made to move, to avoid getting wet.
"Don't be silly" she had murmured, "We aren't going to melt. Aren't you enjoying just lying here? It's such a beautiful day."
He said it for the first time then, not the last. "I love you" he had whispered, pressing his lips to hers.
And he had meant it; there had been no lie there.
Wow, how random of me. Good old void filling angst. Hope you enjoyed it. Review please. What you think of my Mary? I quite liked her. Anywhoo. This wasn't beta'd so, sorry for mistakes.