When we finally reached the bunker, we decided to take a little… vacation from hunting. Dean would stay with us for a while – if only to consume my homemade pies – until he couldn't stand our constant, sappy, new-relationship obnoxiousness anymore. Then he would track down some monster, be gone for a few days, then return until he was sick of us again.
Our "honeymoon" lasted about three weeks, during which time we could not keep our hands off each other. All my stuff had been incorporated into Sam's dresser and Dean and I had worked out a schedule for tv remote access. Things finally started to feel normal, so we decided to further test the waters.
After Sam and I became comfortable with being a live-together couple, we set out with Dean on a few hunts. A little rocky at first, we found our rhythm after a few weeks. They would be the intimidating muscle; I would be the muscle too, but because of my small stature and wide, innocent eyes, I would be the little trick up their sleeves when things got hairy.
We helped Cas when he was in trouble, dispatched a few demons, even ran into the Ghostfacers; the Winchesters were less than thrilled, but I found them to be rather loveable fools. After six weeks on the road we were finally, finally returning to the bunker, to the place I now considered my home.
I had been more anxious than anyone to get back, so we only went through a drive-through and brought it with us to eat at a real table. The salad that I had ordered seemed like a good idea in theory, but after inhaling the intoxicating scent of the boys' burgers, the greasy concoction called to me. I frowned and picked at my lettuce in distaste.
"Told ya you should have gotten a burger," Dean chastised, tearing off a huge bite of his dripping sandwich. I flicked a tomato at him.
"You know, it's really obnoxious that you and Sam seem to be able to eat whatever you want and still look like someone from the cover of Men's Fitness," I grumbled, getting up from the table to throw away the uneaten rabbit food. When I crossed behind Dean, he turned and grabbed me by the waist.
"Aww, I think it's cute," he patronized, patting the little pooch that had started to form. I smacked his hand away and glared into his humor-filled green eyes. I muttered a few obscenities, but I couldn't stay mad at him for long. Still, the few extra pounds were kind of depressing so I retreated to the bedroom before I gave in and stole half of Sam's burger. Or maybe Dean's; if I was going to get fat, it would sure as hell be at his expense.
Sam came in to find me examining myself in the bathroom mirror. I had my shirt pulled up and was poking at the small tummy that didn't used to be there. I sighed and pulled the fabric back down as Sam came up behind and encircled his arms around my waist.
"I'm surprised you can even still wrap your arms around me," I whined. He rolled his eyes at the exaggeration and I spun to face him.
"You are most definitely not fat," he assured me. I stuck out my bottom lip.
"So you still find me sexy?" I teased.
"Mmm," he purred in affirmation, his hands traveling from my waist to squeeze my ass. I wrapped my arms around his neck.
"I think I'm gonna need some proof, Mr. Winchester."
The next day, Dean made some sort of god-awful concoction consisting of whatever was in the fridge – no meat, cheese, topping, or condiment was off limits. And screw being skinny – I decided to have a burger. My brain wanted the food more than my stomach protested it, so I wolfed it down before my body could turn on me. Unfortunately, that was a poor, poor choice.
With an overly full stomach, when the smell of whatever horrors Dean was consuming invaded my senses, I raced to the bathroom just in time to empty everything that I had just eaten. Sam, as usual, was by my side with a glass of water and worry lines in his forehead. I frowned; that had been a damn good burger going down.
"Lana, this has been going on for weeks now. Don't you think maybe you should, you know, see someone?" he asked, concerned.
"I'm fine, really. Blame Dean and his disgusting eating habits," I grimaced.
Just then, Dean's frame filled the doorway. "Excuse me, but this sandwich is a work of art." He had brought it with him and the smell made me gag again.
"Really, dude? Get that thing out of here," Sam shouted. In response, Dean just ended up stuffing the last few bites in his mouth and smiling mischievously.
Once he had swallowed, he remained in the doorway, shifting his weight uncomfortably. "Look, it's probably not my place to say…" he began, saying it anyway.
"Don't," I warned. It had crossed my mind, but it was impossible, and bringing it up would only hurt more.
"You and Sam have been going at it like rabbits since you met! Isn't there at least some possibility that you might be…" Sam shot him a warning glance, "pregnant?" he finished, unaware or ignoring the warning.
"No, Dean. There is no possibility," I stated, trying to keep some composure. Sam was rubbing my back and glaring daggers at his brother.
"Really? 'Cause it seems to me like you got all the signs – you're tired, throwing up all the damn time, and let's not forget that little pooch you've got going." Great, now he was outright calling me fat.
"I'm not pregnant, Dean. Just let it go," I pleaded. Sam had stopped his soothing motions.
"He's right, you know," Sam added, almost sheepish. I looked at him incredulously. "I'm just saying… maybe we should just… be sure?" It came out like a question; he knew this was a touchy subject for me. As in, I tended to have an emotional breakdown every time it came up.
"Fine," I growled, pushing myself off the floor. "But when I'm right, you are cleaning the bathroom for a year." Sam must have thought I'd put up more of a fight, so he looked relieved when I made my way into the Impala.
When we arrived at the drugstore, Dean chatted up the cosmetics attendant while Sam and I wandered to the family planning section. He didn't say anything, didn't touch me, just followed me around as I picked up the cheapest test and went back up to the counter. The cashier's eyes lit up when she saw Sam, then fell again when she saw what I was purchasing.
"Don't worry," I said, handing her the cash. "You can have him when this comes out negative." I smiled at her shocked expression, grabbed the pink box, and stomped out to the car without looking to see if anyone was following me.
I got into the back seat, wanting to be alone, but Sam came in the other side to sit next to me as Dean took his place at the wheel. Sam knew I was angry at him for making me go through this, but he also knew that that anger came from a place of pain and sadness. He understood, but his concern for my health at the time outweighed his concern for my feelings. I was still pissed.
The ride home seemed to take longer than the ride to the store. I stared at the box with the woman on the front who was heavy-with-child and seemed to be mocking me. Sam slung an arm around my shoulders and I leaned into him, not wanting to speak to him, but still comforted by his presence. I picked at the glue holding the flaps shut and tore little pieces off until we were parked in the garage.
"So, do you two, you know… want some privacy?" Dean asked, gesturing to the now shredded box I had in my hands.
"Whatever, I know what it's going to say." I ripped the rest of the box open and took the small plastic stick into the bathroom with me. I read through the instructions and, after a few awkward tries, managed to get my sample on the test. I left it on the sink and walked out to sit on the couch.
"Well?" Sam asked.
"Gotta wait three minutes," I shrugged.
"Seems like they should have invented instant tests by now. I mean, what's gonna be different in three minutes?" Dean questioned, trying to make small talk. He quickly piped down when no one indulged him.
As sure as I thought I was, now that I had actually taken the test I started to wonder if maybe it was possible. I mean, stranger things have happened, right? Especially to this family. I had all the classic symptoms. Then my thoughts started to shift to what would happen if it was positive – would Sam and I make good parents? Would he even want the baby? He was a hunter, but he always resented the way his father raised him to become one.
My mind was racing by the time Sam sat next to me, and I rested my head on his shoulder. He kissed the top of my head and murmured, "Whatever happens, you know I love you, right?" I pulled away to look him in his eyes.
Although it was kind of implied, we had never actually spoken those words to each other. I clenched and unclenched my jaw, trying to swallow the knot that had formed in my throat. I wasn't good with words, or feelings, and before I could form a response, the timer on my phone went off.
I leapt up from the couch, though I was hesitant in my walk back to the bathroom. Despite myself, I had gotten my hopes up. By the time I crossed the threshold, my heart had started racing and I was shaking slightly. Sam and Dean hung back, giving me some space.
I picked up the test, eyes darting back and forth between it and the instructions: one line. Not pregnant. I double-checked. Still one line. Still not pregnant.
I felt like I was kicked in the chest. I could feel the tears welling up, but forced them back. The Winchesters were still waiting anxiously behind me, so I turned. My sudden emotional onslaught could indicate either outcome, so I said, "Negative." Sam's eyes were sympathetic. "Told you," I choked, snot starting to clog up my nose. Sam reached out to grab my shoulder but I shrugged him off. "It's fine," I said, walking past the brothers' helpless expressions.
"I meant what I said, Lana. I do love you," Sam tried to comfort me, but it just made the trembling worse. "You and I, we're just starting our lives together. We wouldn't be ready for a-" he paused as I gripped the back of a chair hard enough to turn my knuckles white. He was trying to make me feel better, but doing a piss-poor job of it. "I'm not sure I even want kids," he proclaimed.
We hadn't really talked about it – that could have been a true statement for him, but it certainly wasn't for me, and his words broke my heart. He could be with anyone and start a family; he could choose to stop hunting, to be a father, but in just a few words he was giving that all up. I desperately wanted to be a mother – not necessarily right now, in this situation, but some day – and it would never happen. I had dealt with that particular demon, but he had given me hope and now I'd have to rebuild myself all over again. I hoped I could forgive him for that.
"I'm gonna go for a walk," I said mechanically, grabbing my coat and walking toward the front door. Sam began to follow me, but his brother put a hand on his shoulder.
"Just let her go," Dean whispered. "She needs this." And just like that I set out to pick up the broken pieces of my shattered heart.