John was the last one to leave the churchyard that late July afternoon. His sombre expression lifted slightly, when he caught sight of Mary and the boys. As his grandmother explained to him before her death, life goes on. Dean was quickly approaching adolescence and Sam was still enjoying his boyhood. Then there was baby Christina, who was flourishing into a happy little girl. Despite the sadness felt by the passing of his grandmother, John knew life was good. Sure, his marriage with Mary had hit rocky patches in the past, but they managed through their issues for the sake of the kids. Old Christina had helped them both. Who would catch him now, should he fall again, John was now wondering to himself, as he ventured forward to join his family in the car.

As the Impala rolled up the drive, Mary smiled at the sight of her baby daughter in the lounge window, in the arms of her baby sitter, Vivian. The high schooler soon appeared on the front porch step, with the two-month-old.

"Thank you for looking after Chrissie, Vivian," said Mary, as she gathered her baby daughter into her arms. "You've helped a lot with the kids. I heard that you accepted into Stanford."

The young girl smiled, as she freed her dark hair from her purple hair scrunchie. Chrissie was far too fond of hair pulling at this stage.

"Thanks, Mrs Winchester," she replied. "I think my mom was just as happy as I was, that I got into my first choice in college. Even if it means moving away."

Sam bounded up to the babysitter, his eyes wide with curiosity.

"Aw, does this mean you're not gonna be our baby sitter anymore, Vivian?" he asked, looking disappointed.

"Afraid so, Sammy," she answered, kneeling to his level. "I'm going all the way to California. There's a big school there called Stanford University. I'm hoping to learn more about my people. Then I can teach little boys like you about us. Remember, when I told you the stories about the Mialuka and Wakanda?"

Sam nodded glumly. Chrissie was cooing, as Mary held her against her shoulder. Drool dribbled down the baby's rounded chin. Sam still seemed unimpressed that his favourite babysitter was ditching them. Vivian ruffled the boy's hair.

"Don't go," pleaded the 8-year-old. "I don't want another babysitter."

Dean wandered, failing at his attempt at look cool in front of the older female. Mary rolled her eyes and smirked in amusement. Dean nudged his younger brother with his elbow.

"That's because Sammy's got a crush on you," he announced boldly, his green eyes filled with mischief. "He gave you that valentine's card."

Sam was so appalled at his brother's brash declaration, his cheeks flushed bright red with embarrassment.

"Nuh uh, you're lying," he whined, roughly shoving Dean. The older boy just laughed at him. "That was you! You gave the card!"

Dean's face fell, before he launched himself at Sam. Vivian was trying her best not to laugh, as the two boys battled it out for her attention. Chrissie was smiling brightly, as she watched the scene in front of her. Mary shook her head.

"You both gave Vivian a card!" she interrupted, before intervening in their scuffle. "Enough! Your meant to be setting an example to your sister."

The baby gurgled, as if she was adding her own contribution to the conversation. Mary turned her attention to the young girl. She then gave Vivian her a twenty-dollar bill, followed by another twenty. The babysitter's jaw dropped.

"Mrs Winchester, I can't take all this! It's too much" she exclaimed.

"It's a gift," smiled Mary. "You've done although for us over the past two years, Vivian, especially these past few weeks. What with everything going on with John's grandma."

Vivian was touched. She gazed at the bills in her hand.

"This is forty-dollars" she stammered.

"Don't think of it as charity," Mary reassured, worried that she had offended the teenager. "You can put it towards a trip or something. Your young. See the world. I wish I had the chance."

The teenager eventually slipped the bills into her jeans pocket, before giving Mary a quick hug of gratitude.

"I'll add it to my college fund" the teen remarked.

Meanwhile, little Chrissie was busy drooling and cooing, as she remained transfixed on what was going on around her. Mary made her wave goodbye, as Vivian left. Her big eyes seemed to focus on her father, as they entered the house. The boys vanished upstairs to their room. Mary wandered into the lounge with Chrissie in her arms, whilst John headed to the kitchen.

"Hey, baby," expressed Mary, with a warm smile, as she planted several kisses all over her little daughter. "I've missed you."

The baby was dressed in a cute floral sundress and white frilly socks. John soon returned, armed with a beer bottle in his hand. He slumped down into his arm chair.

"John, please," begged Mary, as Chrissie rested against her shoulder. "You said you wouldn't. Not in front of the kids. Not again."

John glared at his wife, his eyes glazed over with grief. This was his first-hand encounter with bereavement. Sure, he lost friends when he was in Vietnam, but this was different.

"I've just buried the woman who raised me," he grunted, as he took a short swig of liquor. "I'll do whatever the hell I want"

The infant whimpered, as she continued to intently stare at her father. Mary held her baby closer, as she slowly approached her husband.

"Look, I know it's hard, but you can't drown yourself in beer bottles," Mary stated gently, before settling into a firmer attitude. "I'm not going through that again with you, John. You're lucky Sammy doesn't remember you like that, but Dean does."

John glared at Mary, his eyes red rimmed and irate. He took a long gulp from the bottle, before dragging his hand across his weary face.

"Christ sake, you know that I would never hurt you, Mary," retorted John, as he leaned forward in his arm chair. "Kids overreact. Dean was only four."

"You threw a bottle at the kitchen wall, John!" snapped Mary, trying to keep her voice low and level enough, as to not upset the baby in her arms. "What was he supposed to think? I'm not having the kids go through that crap again."

Tears filled John's eyes, as he fiercely bit the inside of his cheek, to retain composure. Chrissie had craned her tiny head around, to try to follow the voices she was listening to.

"What more do you want me to say, huh?" asked John. "I've always regretted that night. Hell, I regretted moving out for a few days to give you and the boys space. You think I forgot about that? I know it was my fault. Grandma kicked my ass when I told her what happened."

He went silent for a moment, as he quickly looked away. It didn't help him, knowing his daughter was staring at him.

"I bet she did" Mary murmured.

"She would be kicking my ass now if she could" added John, with a small chuckle.

The gloomy expression on his face and distant body language, appeared to have an unpleasant effect on his tiny daughter, as she started to cry. With his trance broken by the cries of his baby daughter, John turned his head towards her direction. After discarding the bottle, he rose from the chair. Mary cradled their daughter, as John got closer.

"Shhhh, it's okay, sweetie, Daddy is just upset," the former marine comforted, as tears began to stream, and his throat began to bloat with emotion. "Please, don't cry."

Mary gazed at her husband, her own eyes glazed with sorrow. She knew John struggled to process certain emotions, especially the negative. A lonely childhood, filled with abandonment issues from both parents, followed by armed combat in a war far away from home. It was just unfortunate that John took a more harmful route to deal with the stresses of life. Mary was like a ray of light in his eyes.

"I'm sorry" choked John, as he planted a kiss on his wife's forehead.

Overwhelmed, John joined in with his tiny daughter. With tears falling down her cheeks also, Mary tried her best to console her husband and baby. Elsewhere, the boys were loitering around on the stairs, intently listening to what was going on. Sam was peering through the banister, trying to figure out a disturbing noise.

"Dean, is that Dad? Is he crying?" the little boy queried.

Dean remained quiet, as he sat on the top step. The last time he heard his father cry, was many years ago. He hoped he would never have to hear that distressing noise coming from his father ever again.

Mary kissed John gently on the lips, as he eventually calmed once more. Baby Chrissie gurgled and fussed, as her father stroked her head.

"Where would I be without you?" he uttered, his tired eyes gazing at his wife.

With a small smile, Mary answered: "Crash and burn."

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