This is a little fic to keep me from having writing abstention syndrome since I have lots of homework. Please review.
Almost forgot...
Disclaimer: I dont own any characters or situations related to the TV Show Supernatural.
That established, on to the story.
Sam finished unpacking the last of his clothes and, after storing them in the drawers of the large closet, folded the boxes and placed them against the wall. A big day awaited him in the morning. He had to go back to Stanford and explain what he had been doing all this time, enroll on the next semester, go to the library and read hundreds of books in two days to catch up. He flopped down on his bed with a slight grunt and closed his eyes, letting out a deep and tired sigh.
After a few seconds he rolled on to his back to stare at the ceiling. The ceiling stared back at him with its plain whiteness. Sam's lips quirked up into a sad smile. He never had to be afraid to find a loved one up there again, they had finally gotten the son of a bitch. Sam closed his eyes, and played the demon's death in his mind again.
Sam read the ritual in the ancient book their father had found, while Dean distracted the demon. When the demon had finally realized what they were up to and charged for Sam it was too late, Sam finished the ritual and the demon stopped mere inches from him. Sam stared into its eyes, a smirk of satisfaction in his face as the demon twisted and let out a frightening roar that grew to a high pitched scream as the same flames it used to kill his mother and his girlfriend began pouring out of its cracking shell-like skin and devoured it.
The cave they were in began shaking as the demon's scream faded and its ashes pooled in the ground, and the brothers took that as their cue to leave. They met their father in the car, who had managed to corner the demon in the cave, but was hurt in the process and couldn't finish the job himself. Together they left the demon's tomb, looking back as they drove again with a weird mixture of emotions written on their faces. It was finally over.
Sam smiled at the end of the home made movie playing inside his eyelids. He knew it was some sort of morbid obsession replaying the events in his mind, but he didn't care. Whoever had said vengeance wouldn't make him feel better had obviously never had someone they loved taken from them.
The long day of moving, carrying boxes, cleaning his new apartment, it had all finally began taking its toll. Sam sighed once more and felt himself beginning to drift off. Before he was too far under though, he heard the roaring of a powerful engine, one he knew very well.
Sam bolted up from his position on his bed and ran to the window. From his bedroom on the second floor of the little building, he could see clearly the black Impala parking in the front.
His mind began racing immediately with all the possible causes of his brother's visit. Was Dean in trouble? Was the demon not dead? Was their father missing again? But Dean would have called. Why show up without notice?
As all this questions circled Sam's mind, the doorbell rang. He whipped his head towards the door, which earned him a little wave of dizziness. Getting over it quickly, he stood up and ran to the door.
Sam flung the door open and was greeted by a couple of wide open eyes, staring at him curiously. The dark green eyes sat on a little round face, which belonged to a small baby with light olive skin.
Dean presented the baby in front of himself, smiling at his brother.
Sam blinked a couple of times, matching the baby's expression, both engaged in a staring contest until Sam was brought out from his shocked state by his brother's laughter. Sam looked up from the baby's scrutiny to look at his brother, who grinned at him like and idiot.
"What's the matter, Sammy?" Dean spoke, a smile so big his face looked like it would split in half at any second. "The cat got your tong?" He asked.
Sam looked at his brother, he opened his mouth like he was about to say something, but closed it again. Dean lifted his eyebrows, an amused look on his face. Sam tried to talk again and failed.
"Aren't you going to invite us in?" Dean asked after a few seconds. Sam noticed for the first time that Cassie was standing in the hallway, behind Dean, smiling at the scene. Sam nodded and stepped aside, letting them in.
He led them to the kitchen, as the living room still had no furniture, and they sat around a small table. He got a couple drinks from the fridge and sat down himself, still staring at the little person in Dean's arms.
"Say something, Sammy. You're starting to scare us." Dean finally said, joking.
Sam shook his head in disbelief, still not taking his eyes from the baby. "Is it yours?" He finally asked.
Dean chuckled. "Yes, its mine." He said. "Its name is Mary." He joked, making emphasis on the 'its' and hugging the little girl closer to him. "That's your geek uncle Sam." Dean said to his baby, putting his face next to Mary's and looking up at Sam.
"How?" Sam asked. "When?" He was getting his ability to speak back, but there where too many questions on his mind, he couldn't concentrate on a single one.
"About two months ago." Dean began, looking at his daughter sitting on his lap. "After we killed the demon and I dropped you back here." He continued. "I went back to see Cassie." Sam turned to look at her and she smiled. "She was huge. I almost dumped her right then and there." Dean said, getting Cassie to smack his arm. Dean laughed and Sam smiled slightly at the little family banter. It was so not Dean. "Mary was born last month, and here we are." Dean finished.
Sam stared at his brother, trying to get the whole idea in his head. "That night you didn't come to the hotel." He said with a pensive look. "When we went to get rid of the ghost truck." Things were beginning to make sense. Dean nodded, still smiling.
"You are a dad." Sam said suddenly, a smile slowly forming on his face. "You are a dad, man!." He shouted, standing up. Dean handed the baby to Cassie as Sam approached him and hugged him. "Congratulations!" He cheered and it was Dean's turn to be surprised.
"Why didn't you tell me before?" Sam asked, backing away a little. "We talked just last week." He said.
"And miss the look on your face?" Dean replied amused. "That was priceless, man." Sam made an attempt to look annoyed but was betrayed by the idiotic grin he now shared with his brother. He turned to Cassie. "Can I hold her?" He asked. Cassie smiled and handed her baby over, carefully, instructing him on how to hold her head and such precautions. Dean smiled as his brother held her niece, making silly noises and faces.
The evening went by quickly, Sam and Dean talked about the baby, Dean's plans, school, the future.
At some point Sam was talking to Cassie, while Dean attempted clumsily to change a diaper. Sam could only laugh at the scene taking place before his eyes. Dean could arm and disarm a gun in seconds, with his eyes folded and a hand tied to his back, but changing a diaper required his full attention.
Sam made a sudden realization, watching his brother and his daughter. Dean was done. He was finally done with the hunting. Something much more important had come up. Dean would always be the hunter. The demons, monsters and ghosts would always be lurking in the shadows, but Dean wouldn't go looking for them anymore. He would be sitting home, his home, with his family, protecting them. Dean looked up from the impossible task to see his brother looking at him smiling.
"What is it?" Dean asked, rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand while his daughter squirmed and giggled under his attempts to close the diaper.
"Nothing." Sam smiled, shaking his head. He had asked his brother several times what he would do after killing the demon that took their mother, and Dean had always answered that there would always be monsters to hunt. Next to his brother dying in a hunt, Sam's deepest fear was that Dean would hunt forever, that he would never be happy. Sam let out a breath he had been holding for 20 years.
After battling demons, shape shifters, ghosts, vampires, and every conceivable monster known to human kind, all it took to stop the great Dean Winchester was a little baby girl. Who would have known?
The End.
