"Mary! Have you seen my tool box? You know, the big green one that Dean gave me for Father's Day?"
Mary Winchester tucked a strand of her long blond hair behind her ear and looked up from the pile of bell peppers she was chopping for the dinner she was preparing. She looked towards the ceiling and called back up the stairs to her husband, "Look in the garage behind Trinity's baby boxes. She was digging in them last weekend and didn't put them up yet."
By the time John Winchester entered the kitchen, Mary had dumped the pile of pepper into the melted butter in the deep skillet she was using for the dinner. "What in the world was Trinity looking for?" John asked gruffly. He stopped on the opposite side of the small kitchen island counter from Mary and his large hands seemed to take up so much space as he leaned forward and rested against the counter.
Mary glanced up at him as she turned back to the island to retrieve the onion she'd already chopped before the peppers. She spoke over her shoulder as she added the onion to the pan in front of her. "She's doing a project for school and needed some of her old baby clothes. She may need more later so I told her she could leave the boxes down for now, but she knows to put them up as soon as she's done."
John gave Mary a hard look, but tried not to let it linger on his face long enough for Mary to actually see it. He knew better than that. The military had done its job well of turning into a hard man. Mary had done her well of softening him up. More often than not, the two sides of the man warred hard within him. Still, he refused to let Mary see the frowns that crossed his face when he disapproved of one of their children's behaviors.
"I saw that," Mary said with a smile without turning around. She always saw John's expressions even when he thought she didn't. Eyes on the back of her head wasn't exactly accurate to describe how she knew; she just knew. She knew John better than even he knew himself. "She's going to clean it up, John. Come on. You know Trinity as well as I do, and you know she would never do anything to disappoint you."
John's face straightened the second Mary called him on the expression. The rough and tumble, hard-core Marine actually found himself feeling sheepish when Mary called him on his often too harsh ways of thinking. He felt the color rise up in his cheeks, but he quickly pushed it away. "I know," was his only response before he finally pushed away from the counter and left Mary alone in the kitchen as he walked to the garage to look for the elusive tool box.
Mary smiled knowingly as she watched John retreat from the room. She really loved to watch him walk away. She still remembered the way her heart had skipped a beat when she'd first met him. It still did the same thing now. She shook her head as she turned back to the food before her.
The door to the garage opened again and Dean, covered from head to toe in grease, dirt, and motor oil, sauntered into the room. A crash and a loud curse from John and both Mary and Dean looking towards the door Dean had just closed. They looked at each other and both let out a snort of laughter. Dean walked over and, being careful to keep his soiled clothes from touching his mother's clean clothes, leaned over and gave Mary a kiss on the cheek. "Chicken Curry again?" he asked with a smirk even as he reached out for a piece of the diced chicken and popped it into his mouth.
"It's what your sister wanted. She's got some big news to tell everybody tonight, and I promised to make her whatever she wanted for dinner."
Dean raised his eyebrows and leaned against the counter a few feet away from Mary. "Oh yeah? She make another A on a test? Big deal. I still think you and Dad really adopted her and Sam. Their brains are most definitely not Winchester brains."
Mary without warning, rolled up the dish towel that had been draped over her shoulder and snapped it quickly, popping Dean on the leg. "Get your dirty backside off my counter." She laughed at the expression on Dean's face as he jumped away from the counter. "And those two are definitely more Campbell than Winchester." She grinned at Dean over her shoulder at the reference of her maiden name.
"So you're not going to tell me her big news?" Dean asked as he snagged one more piece of chicken and ate it quickly.
"Stay out of the chicken! And no, I'm not going to tell you. It's Trinity's news to tell."
Dean laughed when Mary snapped at him about the chicken. It was the same thing they did pretty much every night. "Okay, okay," he said as he crossed the kitchen to the refrigerator and opened it, pulling out a bottle of golden colored beer. He opened one and set it on the counter beside the fridge, then reached in and pulled out another one. "I'm going to shower." Dean left the first opened beer sitting on the counter for his father to retrieve in a moment. Another daily ritual. Dean took the stairs two at a time and circled the landing at the top. Yeah, he was twenty-one years old and living at home. His situation was unique, though.
The cancer that had tried desperately to ravage his body last year was now in remission. They couldn't really call him "cured" exactly, because there would forever be a chance that the tumors they'd found around his spine could return at any time. For now, though, he was healthy and doing well. He'd moved back into his parents' home when he'd first been diagnosed with the cancer, and now he was in the process of working to get enough money saved up to be able to buy a house down the street.
Dean stripped out of the soiled work clothes he wore and dropped them into the plastic basket where only his work clothes went so as not to ruin his good clothes.. He walked into the his bathroom wearing only a dark blue pair of boxer shorts with various pictures of Marvin the Martian from Looney Tunes printed all over them. He stopped in front of the mirror as he often did and stared at his reflection. The scar on the right side of his chest was fading more and more every day, but the pale and slightly bunched up scar stood out against his otherwise tanned skin. He knew the spot where the chemotherapy tube had once been embedded under his skin would always look slightly different from the rest of his smooth skin. It would forever remind him of just how lucky he'd been. He knew how easily he could have died from the disease. He was one of the lucky ones to actually beat it. The pale scar was the only evidence now that anything had ever been wrong with him.
Dean reached up his left hand and slowly ran his fingers over the rough ripple of skin. He still wondered what Angela would think she finally saw it. He'd told her about it on their first date, but even now after two months of dating, she had yet to see it. He knew she would eventually. He really liked her and was taking his time with her. They hadn't even come close to having sex yet. This was definitely a first for Dean. He'd never been with a girl in his life without sleeping with her by the second date – the third at the very latest. Angela was different, though. She was special. For the first time in his life, he could see himself actually settling down and getting married. He wasn't sure what it was about this girl that was so different from the others he'd dated in the past. There was definitely something, though. He'd told her more about his life than he ever had before. He wanted to know everything there was to know about her, as well. She fascinated him in ways he couldn't describe. His parents had met her – another first – and they loved her. Trinity and Sam loved her. Hell, even Lily, Sam's dog, loved her and that dog didn't like anybody except Sam. Dean took a deep breath and let it out slowly before finally turning towards the shower.
An hour later, the entire Winchester clan sat around the kitchen table. Even Angela had joined them at Trinity's request. John said a quick blessing over the meal as he always did before they all dug in. The Chicken Curry was Trinity's favorite, but the whole family loved it. The conversations around the table were lively and plentiful, as always. There were at least four overlapping conversations going on at once.
The meal was very nearly over before Trinity finally agreed to tell the family the news she'd called them all together to tell. The young blond who was a spitting image of her mother stood up and clinked her fork against her water glass to get the attention of the talkative bunch around her.
"Okay Everybody. As you all know, I've been writing a bunch of short stories about our family, about Dad's military days, about the neighborhood, stuff like that." Everyone around the table nodded and looked at Trinity to see where she was going with this. Trinity took a deep breath and smiled broadly. "Well, last month I sent a few of them to a friend of Mom's. I didn't tell anyone 'cause I didn't know what was going to happen. Well…" Trinity again smiled and looked at her father, wanting to see his reaction most of all. "I got a letter today, and the stories are going to be printed in a new hometown series in Woman's World Magazine! A new story will be printed every month!"
The entire table erupted with cheers and congratulations directed at Trinity. John was the only silent one at the table. His expression was unreadable, and Trinity found herself holding her breath as she continued to watch him. "What do you think, Daddy?" she asked with uncertainty.
Everyone at the table got quiet as they all looked at John. The collective question on everyone's mind was "what if he says no?".
John stayed in his chair, his fingers steepled beneath his chin for a moment before he finally took deep breath and stood up. Without a word, he circled the table to where Trinity stood still holding her breath. He looked into her eyes for what felt to the seventeen year old like forever before finally a light appeared in his eyes and a smile grew on his lips. "I'm so proud of you, Baby." John reached out and pulled Trinity to him tightly as tears filled his eyes.
Trinity wrapped her arms around her father laughed as she cried and hugged the man who'd inspired most of her stories. "Thank you, Daddy!"
John pulled back and looked at Trinity, before his smile began to change to a more evil looking smile. "I'll give you one more story to write about," he said, his voice suddenly very deep and strange sounding. John blinked his eyes and when he opened them again, the orbs were nothing but solid black pools that by appearance alone were pure evil.
…
Dean's eyes snapped open and he sat bolt upright on the floor. The small light that had finally been turned on inside the room cast a dim and eerie glow over the whole of the room. Dean's heart pounded in his chest and he sucked in large gulps of air as he tried to catch his breath.
It had all been a dream. Not a djinn induced fantasy, but a true, honest-to-God dream. Everything had seemed so real, though. Mom and Dad were alive and happy. He and Sam had a sister. It all felt so real! And then John's eyes – blacker than night. That was a sight Dean had seen before in real life. It was something he knew he'd never forget.
It took several minutes for Dean to calm himself down. He leaned back and laid his head against the wall. He stared up at the ceiling, made of the same solid material as the floor and walls, and tears began to pool in his eyes. He was losing faith that Bobby and Sam would be able to find him. He didn't know how long he'd been here, but it felt like forever. He truly was starting to believe that he was going to die inside this "cell".