Good Morning, Beautiful Person :)
Happy Birthday to my glimmering girl. Today would be Natalie's seventh birthday, so happy birthday kiddo. In honor of her, go do something nice for YOU. Wear that outfit that makes you feel awesome, get that extra cup of coffee, take a five minute break and smell the roses. You deserve it. Love you bitches and jerks and idjits and assbutts. Special thanks to the lady who cares just as much about Natalie as I do- Jenmm31. Keep your eyes on her- she's got something special coming at you. Can't do it without you, Sammy.
A/N- in this story, Natalie is fifteen. Please see profile page for disclaimer.
It drew him like a moth to a flame. Dean followed the delicious scent out of his room, down the stairs, and into Bobby's kitchen. He sniffed once- twice. He knew that smell.
Natalie didn't look at him as he entered- she was concentrating on not burning herself, but he could see the small smile start to play on her lips as he entered the room. He hurried over next to her to confirm what she was cooking.
"Dad," she said with a low, scolding tone, knowing he was about to get in the way. He completely ignored her and leaned in as she reached into the oven. She lightly nudged him out of her way, and pulled the perfectly cooked pastry out of the hot stove. Dean leaned in even further, sniffing with all his might. She giggled a bit. "Will you stop? I'm gonna drop it if you get any closer." He immediately backed off, not wanting to test her claim.
The succulent smell of apples, cinnamon, and sugar with the perfect flaky crust assaulted his senses again. Screw White Diamonds, Love Spell, and whatever perfume crap that Beyoncé chick made- Homemade Apple Pie was the scent that made Dean Winchester fall in love. He inhaled deeply and fully again, sighing in almost indecent pleasure.
Natalie just snorted a laugh and shook her head. "With that nose, you could give Toucan Sam a run for his money, you know."
"You bet your ass I could. When do we eat?"
"You have to give it a chance to cool so you don't blister your mouth and throat first."
"That's a chance I'm willing to take."
"Yeah, well, I'm not. Have a beer and give it a couple minutes," she said. Dean grumbled something inaudible, but did as his daughter suggested. He walked over to the fridge and yanked out a beer. He slammed the door again and glared at her, like she was a nagging parent keeping him from the candy store. She just gave him her patient but twisted smile, reached behind her, and produced another pie that had yet to be cooked. She held it out to him with an all-knowing grin. Seeing that she already had another pie in the works, the sour look immediately vanished off his face as he plopped down happily before twisting the cap off his beer. She chuckled to herself, sliding the uncooked pie into the oven, shutting the door, and setting the timer on her phone.
"Why the sudden Betty Crocker routine?" Dean asked after he had taken a swig. "You do something that's gonna make me mad and you're buttering me up in advance?" he asked, a tone of teasing in his voice.
Natalie smiled briefly, but shook it off like she always did. "I'm a perfect angel and you know it." She waltzed over to the fridge and snatched up a bottle of water before walking back to the table and plopping down opposite her father. "I just figured I could bone up on my pie making skills before I turn sixteen."
"Why? What happens when you turn sixteen?"
"You get me a car."
Dean snorted into his beer. "Keep dreaming."
Natalie twisted the cap off her bottle before answering. "That's why I'm perfecting my pies now. So that you'll be so indescribably grateful for my culinary prowess that you'll WANT to get me a car as a small token of gratitude for all the joy I've brought into your life. In the form of pastry," she said, making her case with a grin before taking a sip of water.
Dean couldn't help himself. He just chuckled low and shook his head. "Your fancy words and baked goods ain't gonna get you a car. But don't let that stop you from trying." His eyes wandered towards the cooling pie again, but Natalie was a couple steps ahead of him.
"Just five more minutes, then you can tear that thing apart," she said in a lighthearted tone. Dean rolled his eyes and drank again. "And my pie plan will work," she said confidently.
"Keep telling yourself that."
"We'll see."
"You think you got some ability to control me with pie or something?"
"Yup."
He inhaled the seductive scent again. There was a long pause. "Well, you may be right." Natalie chuckled at that one. "How did you learn to do this anyways?" Dean asked, gesturing to all the ingredients and utensils scattered all over the kitchen counters from her afternoon endeavors.
"Jody used to let me bake with her when she was babysitting me at her place," she answered.
"Jody taught you how to make pies?" Dean asked, taken aback at this new information. "Why the hell is this only coming to light now?" He felt cheated.
Natalie rolled her eyes. "She used to let me bake COOKIES with her, so I learned how to use the mixer and how to grease the pans and stuff like that. Everything else I learned on Google."
Dean raised his beer bottle in salute to the search engine. "Shoulda bought stock in that company when we had the chance. I remember, as a kid, having to sit in the damn library for hours on end wading through mountains of crap just for one sentence that MIGHT help us kill whatever we were chasing." He raised his bottle back to his lips, but before he drank, added, "It sucked."
"I can't imagine what that was like," Natalie said, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm. "Was that when you were still riding the dinosaur back and forth to school?"
"Shut up."
"No, seriously. Was it hard having a mode of transportation that could eat you? Did you name your T-Rex or was that not considered 'cool' with the other cavemen?"
"Keep it up, I'm gonna smack you."
Natalie giggled. "I've spent plenty of time poring over old dusty books, Dad."
"Yeah, but you've also spent way too much time on your computer, looking up crap. Try tripling that amount of time in a library that smells like old cats. You'd probably love it, but it was nothing short of torture for me."
"Not to worry. I will forever be your own personal Google."
"That sounds really messed up, you know that, kiddo?" She shrugged smugly, causing Dean to chuckle again before taking another swig of his drink. "Still don't know how you ended up so damned smart."
"You and Uncle Sam combined are a force to be reckoned with."
"True. You're right. But you still ain't gettin' a car."
Natalie pushed herself away from the table with a grin. "So be it." She walked back over towards the pie on the counter and pulled her oven mitts back on. She couldn't help but notice that Dean perked up like a puppy when he saw what she was doing. Suppressing a smile, she picked up two forks and stabbed them into the top of the pie before picking it all up and walking it carefully over to the table. She set it down gently.
It had only made contact with the table for .5 seconds before Dean snatched one of the forks and scooped up a bite. Just before he could put it in his mouth, Natalie begged. "Please at least blow on it first- I don't want you to get burned." Knowing that she legitimately was worried, he blew on it for two seconds before popping it in his mouth. It was still plenty hot, but this was Dean Winchester. He'd been drinking scalding hot coffee practically out of his baby bottle.
The pie was insanely delicious. He closed his eyes, savoring the blend of apples and spices, and swallowed, before immediately digging for a second bite and just not stopping. Somewhere around bite number five, he finally opened his eyes, having almost forgotten that his daughter was in the room with him.
She was smiling wryly, trying to keep the amusement off her face. "Should I leave you two alone?" she said in a mocking but whimsical way, gesturing to the pie. Around his mouthful of crust, he managed to get out a sound that Natalie took to mean 'No'. He gestured to the other fork, wanting her to join him, but instantly dove back in for another bite. "I guess this means you like it, huh?" she asked.
Cheeks bulging, he just nodded. Giving an almighty swallow, he finally got out actual words. "Squirt, you've outdone yourself."
She just blushed and brushed away his compliment, but secretly she was thrilled. She tentatively scooped up a bite for herself, giving it plenty of time to cool down before trying it. It was pretty good. She held it in her mouth for a moment, analyzing the taste.
"Hmmm," she finally said. "Think there's too much cinnamon."
"Nuh-uh," Dean said, his mouth once again full as another forkful made its way in.
"It's just a bit too tangy with that much cinnamon in it."
"Nope." Not having swallowed yet, it came out more like 'Nuhmm,' but she got the drift.
"I think next time I'll-"
"Shut up, it's perfect," Dean said stubbornly, hating wasting time having to reassure her with actual words instead of eating. That was the confirmation she'd been looking for. She grinned briefly, and took another bite herself.
"Yeah, alright," she admitted. "It's fine." Dean just nodded fervently, making her giggle again. "When did you become so obsessed with pie?"
Dean paused just long enough to give her an 'are you serious' look. "I've been like this my entire life. This ain't nothing new."
"Yeah, I know, but something must have triggered it originally."
Dean chewed, appearing to think. After a while, he finally spoke. "It's because my mom used to make them." That made Natalie stop breathing for a second. This was an unexpected revelation. Dean very rarely talked about her grandmother- usually only when he had to.
As long as she could remember, Natalie had known the story. She knew it had been her grandmother's death at the hands of a yellow-eyed demon named Azazel that had started her father, her uncle, and her grandfather in the family business of saving people and hunting things. She knew that her father had been four years old, carrying his six month old baby brother out of the burning house to safety, and that they had watched their home go up in flames. She knew, on November 2nd of every year, to leave her father alone until he indicated that he was ready and willing to talk to anyone at all. She had known since she was eight where he kept his few photos of his mother, and when he wasn't looking, she would occasionally sneak them out and look at them, but was always so very careful to put them back exactly how she found them. So to have Dean volunteer this information willingly was, indeed, surprising.
He noticed her sudden silence, and looked up from the pie pan into her face. He gave a smug smile, trying to erase the hint of sadness in his eyes. "Go ahead," he said, spearing another bite onto his fork and popping it in his mouth. He just looked at her, waiting.
"What do you mean?" Natalie asked cautiously, taking another bite herself to avoid looking him in the eye. He chuckled low.
"I know that look on your face. You want to ask a question. So go ahead."
Natalie took her time chewing and swallowing carefully before responding. "I don't want to make you mad or upset you," she said tentatively.
"Okay. Noted. Go ahead."
Natalie exhaled. Should she do this? Should she ask? Dean was giving her permission- it was like he knew what she was going to ask, and was still okay with it. Hell, he was pressuring her to say it. Gathering all her courage, she finally asked the question she'd been wanting to ask all her life.
"What was Grandma like?"
Dean smiled as he lowered his eyes back to the apple pie between them. He always knew this question was going to come up eventually. Frankly, he was surprised she had kept it suppressed for so long- the kid who used to ask a thousand questions a day. He could only imagine it was because she knew that he didn't like talking about the subject. He was glad it had happened like this, instead of finding her hacking his files or digging around in his personal stuff, like she had so often done when she was younger. He'd much rather deal with this over a pie with the child he loved, any day.
He thought of his mother, and said the first thing that he always remembered. "She was beautiful," he said as he scooped up another bite. He examined it on his fork as he continued to speak. "She was kind, she was sweet, and she made a hell of a meatloaf." At that non-sequiter, Natalie giggled, then clamped her lips shut in horror. What if Dean thought she was being disrespectful to her grandmother's memory by laughing?
However, Dean grinned even wider, hearing her laugh. It gave him courage. "I don't really remember her a lot, more…how she made me feel. She used to play baseball with me in the backyard. I totally sucked at it then, but she never lost patience with me." Having been a father for fifteen years now, Dean could fully appreciate the level of strength that feat had taken. "She…when she was around, I felt safe." That was about as much as he could really say right now without getting too emotional, so he chose to clean his fork off again, giving himself time to recover.
Natalie swallowed the lump in her throat. She knew that feeling that Dean was talking about. Looking down at the pie herself and scooping up another bite- looking exactly like Dean without even realizing it- she commented quietly. "That's how I feel when you're around. I'm glad you got that from her."
Dean reached out and scrubbed his hand on the top of her head. He didn't trust himself to speak just then, but he had to make his affections for his daughter known someway. The gesture caused her to give him one of her rare genuine grins before pulling away and smoothing down her hair in mock annoyance. It was the ice- breaker they both needed after such a chick-flick moment, and they both chuckled together.
"See? We were having such a nice feely moment and you had to ruin it," Dean commented, the disapproving tone playing in his voice as he acted offended.
"If you would stop noogie-ing me, then we wouldn't have ruined the moment at all, Dad," Natalie shot back playfully.
"I resent that, missy. That wasn't a noogie. The rest of this pie is mine as a punishment for you ruining the moment."
"In your dreams, old man."
"Now it's punishment for calling me 'old man'."
They fenced with their forks for a moment before Natalie knocked him out of the way, scooped up another bite, and popped in into her mouth with a victorious, smug grin. Dean just rolled his eyes and snatched another bite too.
"So now I suppose you're going to ask me what your grandfather was like?" he commented nonchalantly around another delicious mouthful. To his surprise, Natalie shook her head.
"I kinda know him already."
"How do you figure that?"
"From reading his journal all these years. I know that he was obsessed with finding Grandma's killer. I know that he was ex-military, and he treated you and Uncle Sam like soldiers." Dean's eyes flicked up to hers on that last comment. She was still looking at the pie, digging out another bite, and didn't notice him looking at her. Dean looked carefully for any signs of judgment, but to his slight surprise, he didn't see any.
"Yeah, he did," he said, interested to know what she really thought about that. Sam had always balked at their training, at being treated just like that- as soldiers. He wondered suddenly if Natalie had ever thought of his father with disdain for that.
As if she could read his mind, she answered. "I don't know that that was a BAD thing- I mean, you turned out awesome," she said, a smug smirk playing on her face as she met her father's eyes. She shrugged. "I know Uncle Sam and him didn't always get along. There's lots in the journal about that." Dean agreed with a snort and a nod. "But he just seemed kind of…lost without Grandma. I don't know that I can blame him for acting the way he did since he was so lost."
"Wow," Dean said, actually stopping the feast for a moment. "That's…wow." He genuinely didn't know how to respond to his daughter's insight.
She shrugged again. "I know he lost his temper a lot. I know he said things he shouldn't have. I know he shouldn't have been drinking so much. But I can't imagine that kind of pain; to lose someone you love so much. What does that do to a person, you know? How do you function at all after something like that?" she asked, curiosity and pity in her voice.
"The only way you can. Structure. Discipline. It worked on me- I needed someone to keep me in check. But Sammy…well, Sammy didn't get from it what I did," Dean said as he stabbed the pie again, going for a big apple slice. "But I don't think Dad knew any other way to be at that point."
"So how are you supposed to blame him for that? I mean, I wish that Grandpa had been easier on Uncle Sam, but I don't think he knew how to be. How can he hold him responsible for that?"
"Ask your uncle."
"THAT'S a can of worms for another day."
"You ain't wrong." The new scents of the baking pie suddenly assaulted Dean's nose, giving him a much needed subject changer. He sniffed the air mightily again. "Hmmm…blueberry?"
Natalie's jaw dropped open. "How the HELL did you know that?"
"It's pie. I'm that good," Dean said proudly, popping another bite into his mouth. Natalie shook her head in wonder.
"I'm gonna call Ripley's. You should be a exhibit."
"Screw Ripley's. I belong in the Smithsonian. You ain't lettin' the pie burn, are you?"
"I set the timer on my phone. It's fine."
"I thought you'd go cherry. Isn't that your favorite?"
"I wanted to get this pie making thing down before I tried cherry. Didn't want to screw that up."
"But you were willing to screw up apple and blueberry?"
"I knew you'd eat them regardless."
"Brat."
She just gave him her knowing sideways smirk. "Well, the pressure was on- my father is the Pie King, after all."
"Damn straight. Pie King. Not Car Buyer. Just puttin' it out there."
She rolled her eyes again. "C'mon. There's other advantages to me making pies. I could use a crash course on domestic life. Now that I have Pop's permission to take over in here."
Dean could silently follow her unspoken train of thought. She hadn't had a lot of domestic structure- typical domestic structure- growing up in the hunting life. She had loved being at Jody's when she could be, but it was very rare as Jody had her own hands full with Alex and Claire. Donna had been in and out only a few times, absolutely doting on Natalie, but again, she had her own life and her own things to hunt. And Natalie had never had a mother per se to teach her other 'domestic' things.
Looking back down at the pie and forking a huge bite, Dean calmly asked the next question. "So now you gonna ask me about your mom?"
"Why the hell would I do that?"
"Because I know how you think."
Natalie shook her head and looked away, but she was taking the time to choose her words carefully. She had been thinking about her, but didn't really want to pursue the line of thought out loud. "Dad, you knew her for like…what…a week? Little over that, right? Three days on the first hunt, then the week that she told you she was pregnant and you came to Seattle?" Dean slowly nodded, surprised at her detailed remembrance. They hadn't talked about her mother in detail since she was ten and Dean had told her the whole story. And here it was, five years later, and the kid remembered it in vivid detail.
"So how much did you REALLY know about her? There's nothing that you could really tell me," Natalie said casually, looking back at Dean, a stoic blank look on her features.
"Fair enough," Dean conceded. "I gotta tell you, this is way more preferable than finding you hacking into my laptop at one in the morning."
Natalie blushed to the very roots of her hair, remembering her brief foray into cyber crime at the age of ten. "Yeah, well, I had it in my head pretty good that you were hiding everything I wanted to know from me."
"Why?"
She looked at him, honesty blazing in her eyes. "You know, I have asked myself that question for the longest time. I really don't know. You had never lied to me, but reading Pops' old journals somehow twisted my brain into believing there was something you weren't telling me. Like how I've read Grandpa's journals, but I know there's way more to the stories in them." She muddled her fork in the pie fillings for a minute. "You know, I still feel guilty about that sometimes," she mumbled quietly.
"About hacking into my computer like you did?"
"Yeah."
Dean sat silent for a moment. He took a deep breath. "Let it go," he said simply.
"Let go five years of guilt in three words? Yeah, okay," she replied back sarcastically.
"Natalie, I'm serious." That tone caused her to look up into his eyes. He had a firm expression on his face that she knew meant business. "Listen. I wasn't being fair to you back then- I wasn't telling you anything about that bi- about your mother because I couldn't deal with it. So in order to get the questions answered, you did what you do best- research and hunt."
"Yeah, but I knew better."
"Since when has that ever stopped you?"
She gave him her twisted smile and looked out the window to the twilight blanketing the scrap yard. "I just hate that I thought that you were holding out on me."
Dean shifted uncomfortably. "Well, kid…that's because…you've got good instincts." Her eyes darted back to him, taking in his sudden awkwardness.
"What do you mean?" she asked cautiously.
"I…look. I didn't tell you this when you were ten, because, quite frankly, I forgot about it. I really didn't mean to keep it from you- it just…accidentally happened."
There was a long pause. "What did you forget?" she asked, in a quiet, calm voice. Dean wasn't fooled. Even though her exterior was perfectly collected, he could hear the strain and tension behind her words. He bit the bullet and told her.
"I have one picture of your mother," he said. He braced himself for the backlash.
"That's it?" she said, exhaling heavily. Dean's panicking eyes darted up to hers, searching her face. All he found was relief there. "Geez, Dad, give me a heart attack, why don't you. I though you were going to say something like she'd committed mass murder or was a vampire or something."
"No, no, nothing like that," Dean said, his heart settling back into place. "You pissed at me for forgetting?" he asked bluntly, worried. She shook her head.
"No way. Honestly, I wouldn't have wanted to see a picture of her after you told me about what she did. I still don't really give a shit about her, so it's no big deal. I mean it."
"Do you give a shit to know that you're in the picture too?"
That brought her up short. "What do you mean?"
"I mean it's a picture of her holding you right after you were born."
The silence hung in the air like fog. The timer going off on her phone suddenly shattered it. They both jumped at the noise, then Natalie pushed herself away from the table to go turn it off. Her hands shook a bit, and she muttered a curse at the three attempts it took to shut the alarm off. As if on autopilot, she pulled on her mitts and opened the oven door, retrieving the now-baked pie. She set it down on the counter, shut the oven, turned it off, and slowly pulled off her mitts. Dean could see the wheels turning in her head.
"She's…holding me? In the picture?" Natalie asked, her voice quiet and low. Dean immediately felt like shit. Here he was, hurting his child all over again over her bitch of a mother.
"Yeah. I took it- the photo. It was on an old phone that I just discovered two weeks ago." They changed phones frequently- it wasn't unheard of in the Winchester household to rediscover messages and pictures on old phones. "Kiddo, I'm so sorry."
She thought for a minute, then looked him full in the face. He was legitimately shocked to see her smiling again. "Don't be."
"What?"
"If I can 'let go' hacking into your computer, you can 'let go' forgetting about that photo. I get why you did. You don't want to see her anymore than I do. And at the time, you were dealing with her abandoning us AND a newborn. I totally get it, Dad. Don't worry about it."
Dean felt the eighteen-wheeler of guilt roll off his shoulders. "You're pretty damn amazing kid. You know that?"
"Of course I do. I got it from you. Not from that bitch."
Dean snorted out loud at that one, causing her to chuckle back. After they had both settled a bit, he finally asked the question that hung in the air. "You wanna see it now?"
If she was being honest, no, she didn't. She knew it hurt Dean to talk about Jamie. She didn't feel anything but animosity towards the woman who had given birth to her. She didn't give two shits about any old photo- it had taken her by surprise that Jamie had cared long enough to have a picture taken with her. But she also knew Dean. And she knew that it would haunt him forever if she didn't look at the picture. So she said the only thing she could.
"Sure."
They left the mostly empty pie pan and forks on the kitchen table for Sam to clean up later. Natalie trotted after Dean up the stairs. She felt herself becoming a little uneasy, but she knew she needed to hide it for Dean's sake. They walked into his bedroom. He pulled open a drawer in his bureau and retrieved an old cellphone that clearly had been charged recently. She waited patiently, schooling her face and emotions while he scrolled through the pictures. Finally she watched as he froze. It seemed to take forever for him to hand the phone to her. With a deep breath, she took it and turned it around so she could see better.
The woman sitting up in the hospital bed was holding what looked like a tiny bread loaf. Natalie tried to find some connection to the picture, but there just wasn't any for her. She carefully studied the face of the woman. "Huh."
"Huh what?" Dean said, watching her every eye movement like a hawk.
"She looks nothing like me."
That completely threw Dean for a loop. He was fully expecting a break down on this one. He had never really told her how much she looked like her mother. Natalie had inherited her height, her bone structure, and her dark hair- all from this woman. So to hear his daughter look into her mirror image self and say that it looked nothing like her was utterly unexpected.
"How…are you serious?" he finally blurted out, having no other way to word it. "You don't think you look like her at all?"
"No way. My eyes are totally different."
That reduced Dean's innards to a crumbled mess. Natalie had his eyes- she always had. Since the first moment she had opened them, he recognized them in her face. It had always been so important to him- this link between them, that for her to recognize this as the first thing she noticed- it just reinforced the bond between them. His heart expanded and glowed.
He cleared his throat, getting a handle on his feelings. "Yeah, you're right. Although she's pretty beautiful. Just like you."
"Please. Not even close," she said, nudging him playfully as she handed the phone back. It had been okay. She hadn't gotten upset, because there was no connection there. She still didn't give a shit about her mother. It was her father- the man standing in front of her- the most important person in her life- that had stuck with her through thick and thin, and always would, that mattered.
She stepped forward, hugging him hard around the waist. She knew it must have hurt him to see Jamie, to relive that all over again, and she wanted to make sure he was okay. That was her job.
Despite the chick flick feeling, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in tight and placing his cheek on top of her head. She was his little girl- always would be. He'd do anything for her. He looked out his window into the scrap yard. He saw the back end of a Deville, noticing the tail fins. He wondered if they would look good on the car he had been secretly rebuilding for years for her sixteenth birthday.
