Chapter 11
Disclaimer: Still don't own them.
Once again thank you Soar for her awsome beta work.
Dean had listened as their father told him and Sam about his mother's pregnancy cravings. Despite himself, he was intrigued. When his dad fell silent, Dean leaned back and continued reading. John pretended to surf Sam's computer and Sam continued to pretend to read his book, both secretly watching Dean in case he needed anything.
Dean found that he loved his mother's sense of humour, which came through in her writing. There was no way he could stop now. He read the second entry and then the third. Her seventh entry surprised him.
July 16, 1978
I am now officially 1 month pregnant. My tentative due date is March 22, 1979. That day is going to become one of my top five days. The first day was when I met John. It was both a very special day and a very sad one. I was working as a candy striper, usually in the paediatric ward, but I had switched shifts and was delivering flowers to a terminally ill woman by the name of Erin Winchester. Her son was visiting her that day. He had the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. I stayed and visited with her and her son, John, for far longer than I should have. In fact, my supervisor had to page me. I still didn't want to leave and John invited me out for coffee after my shift. Of course I accepted. We talked about everything that day.
I would stop by and visit Erin on a regular basis. I hope you don't think ill of me, my baby boy or girl, because I am ashamed to admit that part of the reason was that I was hoping to see her son again. I did to know Erin in her own right though and it is my greatest regret that you will never get to meet her. I think she knew that I had a major crush on her son because she told me once that I would make a very good daughter-in-law. She laughed when I agreed with her. I met your paternal grandfather as well and he was every bit as kind and caring as Erin.
I continued to see John and our relationship grew as well. This brings me to the second of what will become my top five days. The day John asked me to marry him. We had been dating for about six months. In his mother's hospital room, he got down on one knee and asked me to make him the happiest man alive. I said yes. John's mom died shortly before the wedding, but I know she was there when we tied the knot.
Your father and I always knew we wanted a family. I wanted eight kids, but unfortunately, our budget didn't allow for it. So we have settled on three. So now you know about days three through five.
Dean lowered the journal and looked at his dad.
"You and mom wanted eight kids?" Dean asked his dad.
"Yeah, but then reality set in," John explained. "We had decided on three originally, but..."
"Then there was the fire," interrupted Sam.
"Actually, no, Sam. When Dean was born, we were a little nervous about trying again but we knew that we wanted more than one child so we decided to have another. Besides, your mother said that even if she had the same complications, our second child would be fine. Your mom had an easy pregnancy with you, Sam, and we decided not to tempt fate a third time. We had two perfect, beautiful sons and we decided that our family was complete."
"I don't blame you, Dad. Wouldn't want to risk having another one of him," Dean said pointing at Sam.
"After you, I should count my blessings I was born. They were probably afraid the baby would end up just like you," Sam countered.
"You got it all wrong," Dean shook his head. "I was pure perfection. I bet they wanted a dozen more like me."
"Pure perfection," said Sam in a sarcastic tone. He turned to his father. "Hey, Dad, how many times did you have to explain to people that Dean was the older brother?"
"Leave me out of this one," John replied in answer to Sam's question, a large grin decorating his face.
"I'm not short, your're just freakishly tall, Sasquatch," Dean defended.
"Whatever you have to tell yourself to get through the day little brother."
John knew it was coming and the boys didn't disappoint.
"Bitch."
"Jerk."
The boys continued to banter until John informed them they were giving him a headache. Sam went back to his book and Dean picked up his mother's journal and read the next few entries. They mainly dealt with how happy she was to be pregnant.
July 21, 1978
I wonder how long morning sickness is supposed to last. I was really sick this morning. I had to cancel my meeting with my boss because I just couldn't get out of bed. So I have one thing to say to that. Thanks, kiddo. Kevin Ross, the principal at the school where I teach, has this meeting before school starts every year. It's supposed to be this big motivational speech about the upcoming year and how great it's going to be. The only thing it motivates me to do is take a nap. It's the same speech, word for word, every year. Thanks again for getting me out of it, my baby boy.
July 22, 1978
I just re-read what I wrote yesterday. I referred to you as a boy. For some reason, I keep thinking of you as a boy. I don't know why, I really don't know if it's even possible for anyone to know at this point , but I say I'm having a boy and I'm always right. I love you, son.
July 23, 1978
I told your father that we were having a boy. He was so happy. He can't wait to teach you to play baseball. He's already got you a glove and your spot reserved in the starting line up of the Kansas City Royals. He says you're going to be what makes them respectable again. Better hurry up and get here, son, they really need your help.
Dean laughed at that. He was so glad he had taken his fahter's advice to read this. He continued to read along. Some entries were long and others were just a couple of sentences. If his mother didn't have anything new to add, her entry would simply remind him of how much she had already grown to love him, and to let him know that angels would always watch over him.
September 30, 1978
I just came back from the doctor. I was so hungry and thirsty. I thought it was pregnancy cravings but even though I was eating a ton, I had begun to lose wait weight. The doctor did a test and discovered that I had a condition called gestational diabetes. It supposed to affect 2-4 of pregnant woman. At those odds, maybe I should consider a trip to Vegas. This means no more junk food. I feel sorry for those share holders at Hershey's or whoever makes M&M's because they are about to take a really big hit. At least I can have coffee though, just not sugar. That's okay, I prefer it black anyway. They also say that in about 90 of cases, it goes away after the baby's born. A little less than 5 months to go. It's okay though, son, because I would give them up forever for you.
November 22, 1978
I met my new doctor today. I have developed a condition called pre-eclampsia. Between that and the diabetes, my pregnancy is now high risk, so I am now in the care of Dr. Nathan Keeping. He is a friend of my mom's. He's kind of arrogant, but he is a good doctor and you're in the very best of hands, my son.
December 22, 1978
I went in to labour today, but thankfully, the doctors managed to stop it. I know I have said numerous times that I can't wait to meet you, but I need you to wait at least three more months okay. Your're still a little too small to join us yet. I have to stay on bed rest for the next three months. This means your father has to wait on me hand and foot. Once again, thanks. Thanks to you, I get to enjoy breakfast in bed for the next three months. I can't think of a better christmas present present.
January 24, 1979
Happy birthday, Jack. You decided to join us a little early. I am sitting by your incubator here in the neonatal ICU and without a doubt, you are the most handsome little man I have ever seen. Just don't tell your father I said that. They took you away from me before I could even see you and it was the longest 2 hours 17 minutes and 48 seconds of my life, waiting for the doctor. The moment I finally lay eyes on you though, it was so worth the wait. Good thing you were a boy or I would have had to bury this journal.
These next several entries may be difficult for you to read because I intend to tell you everything that happens, good or bad. Right now, things are stacked against you, but I have faith so don't let anything you read upset you and that's an order. Nathan told me you weren't going to survive, and so did all of the doctors and nurses. I really let them have it. I told them all what I thought of that suggestion. Just so you don't think your mom is a screeching banshee who gets hysterical at the slightest thing, it was not what the doctor said but how he said it. I know doctors have to deliver bad news, but couldn't he have said that even though the odd aren't in your favour, premies are a lot tougher than people give them credit for. It would have helped, but there was nothing. My dad always told me to have faith and I will say it again, I have faith in you, son. I just know that your're going to be okay.
January 25, 1979
Your're officially 24 hours old. Exactly 19 hours older than the doctor said your life expectancy was.
Jack 1, Dr Keeping 0.
January 28, 1979
Jonathan Dean Winchester Jr. That's your name. Now your're probably wondering what happened to Jack. That was how we were going to tell the difference between you and your father, since Jack is a nickname for John and my maiden name is Jackson. Given that it's a woman's God given right to change her mind at any time, we have now decided to refer to you as Dean. You remind me so much of James Dean in my favourite movie, Rebel Without a Cause. It must be fate that it's your father's middle name as well. Dad said he didn't mind, Dean suited you better. By the way, your're now 3 days old. Dean 2, Dr. Keeping 0.
January 29, 1979
You had your first set back today. You developed Necrotizing Enterocolitis. It's an inflammation of the intestines and your're not feeding well. You dropped from 3 pounds 4 ounces to 3 pounds 1 ounce. I know you just want to look good for Maria, the little girl who had the incubator next to yours, but I have to tell you, Dean, woman like men with a little meat on their bones so no more weight loss, okay. As much as I hate to do this, Dean 2, Dr. Keeping 1.
January 30, 1979
MEN!!! I swear you tell them one thing, they do the opposite just for spite. You dropped 2 more ounces to 2 pounds 9 ounces. So the score is now tied two, two.
January 30, 1979
I know I said one entry a day, but I am so angry right now I just had to get this out. That pompous, arrogant jerk. Do you know what he said to me? He said that one by one, more complications would probably start and it might be better if we took you off the vent and let nature take its course. I told him that if he had the nerve to say that one more time, I was not going to be held accountable for my actions.
February 7, 1979
Okay, I missed several entries, but it was really hard to write with my hand in a splint. Stupid doctor.
"Hey, Dad," Dean addressed his father.
"Yeah, kiddo?"
"Did mom really hit the doctor?"
John smiled at the memory. "Yup. Can't say she didn't warn him though."
Dean turned back to the journal and and in the background, he could hear John telling Sam the full story.
February 8, 1979
A lot has happened over the last week. Nathan put you on a different antibiotic for the NE and said that if that didn't work, you were going to need surgery and surprise, surprise , he said you probably wouldn't survive. The man really needs some new material, but I know you, and if you need surgery, your're going to come through it like a trooper. The next day when they weighed you, and you hadn't lost anymore weight. Dean 3, Dr. Keeping 2. Go, Dean. Oh, by the way, the antibiotic did the trick and the NE cleared up, no surgery necessary.
February10, 2007
I get to hold you today. You are officially 17 days old and your're packing the weight on. Your're back up to your birth weight, so the nurses lifted you, tubes and all, out of the incubator and put you in my arms. I think the tubes weigh more than you at this point. Not that it matters. I was only allowed to hold you for a couple of minutes, but it was enough to fill my heart. I hated having to put you down. Once your're free from the tubes, I am never going to let you go. In case I haven't told you lately, I love you, Dean, and I am so proud of you. Dean 4, Dr. Keeping 2.
February 15, 1979
Good job on the weight gain. You're up to 3 pounds 10 ounces. Maria is really starting to notice you. She always seems to be gazing in your direction. Dean 5, Dr. Keeping 2. Go, Dean.
February 24, 1979
Maria is being released today. The minute the doctors took her out of the incubator she started screeching. They said it was just the change of scenery and that she would settle down, but I know the truth. You officially broke your first heart today, my son. I can't believe you are now a month old. Dean 6, Dr. Keeping 2.
March 1, 1979
I ran into Maria's mom today in the cafeteria. They brought her in for a check up. Her mom said that she is doing good but that she seems to cry a lot, thought it was colic. I told her Maria missed my Dean and offered her your picture, but for some reason, she didn't seem amused.
Dean was tempted to stop and ask his father more about that, but he really wanted to keep reading and decided to wait until he was done.
March 15, 1979
It's been seven weeks since you were born. You now weigh 4 pounds 3 ounces and the doctors are removing the vent. You are now breathing on your own. That idiot is still not saying anything positive. He stopped saying you weren't going to survive, but now it's that your going to be handicapped both mentally and physically, and that there is a high probability you would be blind with cerebral palsy palsy and a whole host of other things. You proved them all wrong before and I know you will again. Have I told you how proud of you I am lately? Dean 7 Dr. Keeping 2.
April 5, 1979
I cannot begin to describe how happy I am. You are being released from the hospital today. At 10 weeks, you now weigh 5 pounds even. I cannot wait. Your nursery is done all up in a baseball motif and I can't wait for you to see it. I just got back from seeing your doctor. I bought him this really beautiful picture of a duck in a pond. I said it was an apology for hitting him. He said he really liked it and would hang it in his office. Now I must confess, Dean, I know I said that I would only tell you the truth. I bought that picture for Nathan so that everytime he looked at it, he could remind himself that he was a great big quack. Dean 8, Dr. Keeping 2.
A full belly laugh escaped Dean. His mother had a wicked sense of humour.
April 16, 1979
I know you want to impress the ladies, but I can take you anywhere to meet them, it doesn't have to be nurses at the hospital. Just now, we had to bring you back because you were running a really high fever. Dean 8, Dr. Keeping 3.
There was an entry for every day of the first year of his life. His mom wrote about everything from his first steps to his first word. He found out that he had been in the hospital a lot his first year, but no matter what happened she turned it into something positive. She also still kept score. Whenever he reached a new milestone the doctors said he wouldn't, she gave him a point. Whenever he ended up back in the hospital, she gave one to his doctor. There were two in particular that stood out to him during the first year. His six month and one year birthday.
June 24, 1979
You are 6 months old today. It's too bad you have to spend it in the hospital. The doctors have discovered a hole in your heart. See, you have such a big one that your body couldn't fill it in completely. It's major open heart surgery and since it doesn't really seem to be adversely affecting your health, they decided to not to operate because... bet you can't guess the reason. You both get a point, Dean 9, Dr. Keeping 4.
January 24, 1980
Happy first birthday, son. It's been a tough year but we all got through it and we are all that much stronger. You kicked ass, Dean. The final score, Dean 35 Dr. Keeping 13.
This brings the journal to a close. I know some of these entries must be really hard for you to read. It can't be easy to see things like that you weren't expected survive, or that the doctors wanted to remove you from the vent. I included them because I want you to know everything that happened to you and just how much you have overcome, and I hope that you can find strength in these words. No matter what your're facing, or how insurmountable the odds may seem, just remember what you have faced and beaten already. You never gave up. You are the strongest, bravest person I know. I am going to close this now with three pieces of advice that my dad gave me.
1) Have Faith.
2) Never give up hope.
3) Never be afraid to kick some ass.
Follow these three simple things and you can take whatever life may throw at you. You're living proof of that. No matter what the coming years may bring, always remember that I love you so much and I am so very proud of you.
Dean put down the journal and stared at it. .
"You okay, son?" John asked.
"Dad, thanks," Dean said simply.
"No problem, son."
"Did mom really offer my picture to that girl's mother?" Dean asked.
"Yup," said John with a chuckle.
"What was that?" asked Sam.
John turned to his younger son. "When Dean was in the NICU, there was this little girl next to him. Your mom was convinced that she had a crush on your brother. She told the little girl's mother that it wasn't colic that was making her cry, but that she missed Dean. She thought your mother was nuts." John said wistfully as he recalled that day.
"Are you sure it was wise to let him read that, dad, he already has a swelled head," Sam commented.
"You're just jealous that you're not as hot as me," replied Dean. John noticed that it was half hearted though.
"Dean, everything okay?" John repeated his probe.
"Yeah," he replied. "Why wouldn't it be?"
It was almost as if Sam sensed that Dean wanted to say more but didn't want to appear weak so he volunteered to go get lunch.
"I know there's something on your mind, kiddo, can you tell me?"
Dean looked at the journal and then back to his father. "Mom was, um she was... proud of me?" Dean asked almost as he was afraid to believe it.
John put his arm around his son's shoulders. "She was," he stated firmly.
"Do you think she still would be, even though I didn't follow her advice?" he asked asked.
"What do you mean?"
"The bit about having faith and hope."
"You did follow that advice."
"I don't have mom's faith," Dean admitted honestly.
"Dean, faith is a strong belief in something. You do have strong faith, in family. You never gave up hope that we would be a family again even after everything that's happened, and you're not afraid to kick the ass of anyone who tries to hurt your family. I say you are following her advice. Whether you live by those rules or not, she is proud of you, just like me." With that, John pulled Dean into a big bear hug. Initally, Dean resisted, but then returned the wholeheartedly.
"Thanks, dad," Dean repeated.
Sam joined them shortly afterward and Dean was himself again, cracking jokes, the snark in full force. The three spent an enjoyable afternoon together before Dean left to go spend the evening with his grandfather. He stopped at a store to pick up some more lighter fluid for the hunt that night and by chance, spotted the perfect gift for his grandfather as a going away present.
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When Dean got to the house, Miles showed him straight into the living room and informed him that Frank was on a phone call and would join him soon. Dean took a seat and waited.
It was unfortunate that Margaret and Frank rarely communicated with each other. Frank had no idea that Margaret had invited Nathan and his wife over in the hopes that she could repair the damage that Frank she believed had caused to their relationship. Margaret had no idea that Frank had invited Dean over for the evening. She was surprised when she went to make sure that everything was ready for their guests' arrival and found that man's son there. There was no way he was going to ruin her evening. Enough was enough.
"Hi," Dean said standing when Margaret entered the room. This woman was his grandmother after all.
"I see you have his manners," she replied as a greeting. There was no mistaking who she meant by this. "The proper way to greet a lady when she enters a room is with a polite good evening."
"Good evening," Dean repeated pleasnatly. He was in such a good mood that he decided he wouldn't let this woman get to him.
"I am afraid there has been a mistake. We are having important guests this evening. Frank should never have asked you to come over her tonight."
Grandpa does want me here, Dean thought. He said so when I called him.
"We have to leave town tomorrow. He said I could come by," Dean explained.
"It must have been an oversight on his part," Margaret said in a frosty tone.
Dean repeated his thought. Grandpa does want me here, doesn't he?
"I'll wait and ask him," Dean said out loud, a touch of self doubt entering his tone.
"Suit yourself, but I can speak for him. He will see you tomorrow," Margaret answered and Dean knew he was being dismissed.
Grandpa wants me here. Why would he say it if it wasn't true? It had to be true.
"Where is Grandpa? I have to give this back to him," Dean said holding up the journal.
"That silly thing. I will give it to him. You can see Frank tomorrow. I think you should be getting home."
Why doesn't he want me here? What did I do wrong?
"I'll wait and see him. I have something I want to give him. I'll leave after that," Dean conceded.
Margaret glanced at the clock. Her guests were always prompt and they would be here soon. She didn't want that grease monkey's kid here when they showed up.
"He dropped this," Margaret said and handed him an enevelope. Could you give it back to him when you give him the book? I found it on the floor of his bedroom."
Dean glanced at the note and saw his mother's hand writing. He couldn't help but read it.
"Hey, Dean," said Frank entering the room. He got there just in time to see all color drain from his grandson's face. "Dean, what is it, what's wrong?"
"I'll go," Dean said softly as he rose and made a beeline for the door. Frank stepped in front of him.
"What's going on? You don't have to leave."
"You don't want me here. Your wife said so," Dean replied in a tone that broke his grandfather's heart.
"Margaret, what the hell is going on? I invited Dean here and he's welcome anytime," Frank said turning his attention to his wife.
"I invited the Keepings' for dinner tonight," she said coolly.
"So, what does that have to do with anything?"
"I want to repair our relationship with them. I will not be embarrassed in my own home."
"Dean wouldn't embarrass us. He's our grandson," Frank argued.
"And the son of the grease monkey."
"Don't talk about my dad like that," said Dean, interrupting the argument. Nobody had the right to put his father down.
"See, he has no social graces, no respect for his elders. It is best this ends here and now," Margaret said firmly.
"Now you listen to me, woman..."
"STOP IT," Dean yelled. "Don't fight over me, I'm not worth it. I'll go."
"No, Dean," Frank said. "Margaret doesn't speak for me."
"You didn't want me either," Dean said before he could stop himself.
"That's not true."
"You said it," Dean accused.
"What?" asked Frank. Then it dawned on him, had Margaret told him what everyone was trying to keep hidden.
"I wanted to give this back to you. Your wife gave me the missing page." Dean handed the journal and the note back to his grandfather. Frank found himself gazing at the note he thought he had destroyed. That's when he realized that his wife must have had a copy. He should have ripped it up the minute he received it.
Frank looked at his grandson and expected to see anger, much like he had when Sam had read the note. He was surprised when all he saw was a look of devastation. He felt his heart crack a little more.
"Dean, I can explain," Frank said trying to reason with the distraught young man.
"You all lied to me, you, dad, Sam, even mom," Dean said. He was in no mood to be placated.
"Dean, please," Frank tried again.
"I was never supposed to be named after Dad was I? It was you, but I wasn't good enough," Dean said sadly.
"That was never it. Please, let me explain," Frank said desperately. He had to make this right. He had to make Dean understand.
Dean was just as desperate to hold himself together. What was it about him, why was he never good enough? Sam left, his dad ditched him too with no explanation, he was just gone one day. He never cared enough to even call him when he was dying.
"Here," Dean said as he handed him the gift he had bought his grandfather. "I'll go." With that he bolted around Frank and made a break for the door.
"Dean, wait," his grandfather called after him.
Dean never slowed. Frank looked down at what his grandson had given him and it caused a sad smile to form on his lips. Dean had taken a picture of the two of them from one of their outings and had managed to find a frame in the shape of a Cadillac, his grandfather's favourite type of car. As he heard the door click shut behind his grandson, his already broken heart shattered into a million pieces.
"Good riddance," Margaret said obviously pleased with herself. Now their life could get back to normal.
"You're right," Frank said quietly.
"I am so glad you are listening to rea..." Margaret stopped abruptly when she saw the look of pure venom in her husband's eyes.
"Get out."
"I beg your pardon," Margaret exclaimed indignantly.
"You heard me. There was no reason to hurt Dean like that. He did nothing to you."
"Did nothing? He insulted Winifred and poor Tabbi."
"If you care so much for your precious Winifred, why don't you go live with her." Frank grabbed his car keys and headed for the door. He had to find Dean.
"Where are you going? We have guests."
"Do you even care that you completely destroyed that young man?" asked Frank in disbelief.
"I will not be embarrassed in my own home."
"Haven't you heard a word I said? You don't live here anymore. Don't be here when I get back," Frank said as he headed out the door. He was not looking forward to his phone call to John
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Dean, meanwhile, had a job to do. They had to finish this hunt. He didn't want someone to get hurt so he did what he always did. He sucked it up and forced down his emotions. He drove around until he got himself together and picked up his father and brother and together, they drove to the cemetary. Dean had his mask on completely. It was so secure that neither John nor Sam realized anything was wrong.
John Winchester may have been an extraordinary hunter, but he was also very human. He didn't want his cell phone going off in the middle of the hunt so he meant to set it to vibrate, but accidently turned it off and missed every one of Frank's frantic phone calls.
A/N: Hoped that you liked this chapter. I hope I kept Dean and John in character, that was my biggest worry when I wrote this chapter. I know that I probably messed up the dates in Mary's journal, so if you notice, please let me know and I will go back and edit. Please read and review and let me know what you thought.