Deuce and Damien
Chapter 16
Disclaimer: see chapter one
John found it hard to let his oldest out of his sight. The terrifying feeling of nearly losing the boy brought back so many feelings, the man felt overwhelmed at times. Watching his son fight for his life over those two and a half days so many thoughts and images filled his mind. He had remembered the day Mary had told him she was pregnant.
They had only been married a year, when he had come home from work that day and she was sitting on the couch flipping through a magazine. He could remember coming in and sitting next to her as she smiled over the book, her eye's taking on a mock-serious look as she returned them to the page, "We need to go shopping." She said confidently.
"Okay…" John wasn't sure why she wanted him to go shopping, he hated it. "What are we shopping for?"
"A crib, maybe a playpen too." She smiled again as she awaited his response. She giggled as it seemed to take him longer to process what she was saying.
"A crib?" Finally understanding filled his mind, "Mary?"
"We're gonna have a baby." She lost her playful look, almost looking scared as she waited to see if he would be as excited as she was.
"Really?" John's eyes had gotten wide as a smile crossed his face, "Really?"
Shaking her head yes, she put the magazine down, it was then he realized it was a baby magazine. He could remember pulling her in his arms, holding her tight, he had never been so happy in his life.
Then came the day Dean had been born, John had been at the garage when their neighbor called saying they were taking Mary to the hospital. He had been so nervous that Mike had to drive him. He knew he had been a sight walking into the maternity ward in his coveralls, covered nearly head to toe in grease, he had been in the middle of pulling an engine when the call came.
The nurses had made him wash up and change into scrubs before they would allow him in with Mary. He remembered the moment he walked into the room. There was his wife, having just given birth, but she had never looked more beautiful and in her arms was the tiniest thing John could ever remember seeing. Dean was wrapped in a blue blanket and his little hand was curled around Mary's pinky. When John approached the bed, Mary smiled at him, "Well Mr. Winchester, I think you should meet your son, Dean Mathew." They had agreed on names months before, Dean if it was a boy, Deana for a girl. Some thought it was silly to have two names so much alike, but John knew it was because Mary wanted to honor her mother, who had died before they were married.
John had leaned down and kissed Mary before settling next to her to look at the bundle in her arms, "Hey Ace…" John whispered as he reached up and touched his son's tiny hand.
"Wanna hold him?" Mary asked, shifting her son to hand to his father.
"What? I don't…" Mary chuckled at the fearful expression on her husbands face.
"You're gonna have to learn…it's fine, you won't hurt him. Just remember to keep his head supported." Mary eased the baby into John's larger hands.
The little form fit perfectly into the crock of his arm as John held him close; using his other hand he pulled the blanket down some. "Oh God…" John whispered as he took in the perfectly round face, button-like nose and barely parted lips as breaths could be felt on his finger tips. "He's beautiful." John whispered as he looked up at his wife, tears filling his eyes. Mary watched as John took Dean's little hand in his, studying the impossibly small digits. He watched in awe as his son's tiny hand curled around his finger. It was then and there that John really understood that life was no longer about him, but about the small bundle held safely in his arms. It was then that John knew he would die to protect the life he now held in his hands. He remembered bringing the child to his lips, kissing the scrunched forehead, vowing he would never let anything harm his family.
But now as John stood beside the bed his five-year old was sleeping in, he wondered how in those five years his whole world could have fell apart on such an unimaginable scale. He hadn't been able to protect his wife, he had barely saved his children and it had only been two weeks since he had nearly lost his first born. He didn't know what to do. This new world he had found himself in gave the promise of helping him protect his children and to find the thing that had taken his wife, but it had been unable to protect his son from the hypothermia and pneumonia that had nearly claimed the boys life. As John slowly took the seat next to the bed, John put his head in his hands, feeling scared, lost and alone.
"Daddy?" Dean's quiet voice pulled John's attention from his thoughts as he looked up, wiping his hand over his face. His son had asked him in the hospital to not cry anymore, and he vowed to not let his son see him cry.
"Hey, Ace…" John moved to sit on the bed as Dean sat up and leaned against the head board, "You doing okay, do you need something?"
Dean looked at his father a moment, John suddenly felt uncomfortable under the scrutiny of his son gaze. The Knight watched as his son moved toward him, crawling up into his lap. It took John a moment to close his arms around the child, since Dean rarely sought comfort from him anymore. He felt Dean's fingers start to fiddle with the buttons on the flannel shirt he had one, the child's head resting on his chest. John's heart ached at the last time his son was this close, it was during those uncertain hours, waiting for search and rescue to arrive.
"Can I have a picture of mommy?" Dean asked as he looked up at his father.
John felt his heart clinch at his son's request. John only had a few pictures of his wife that he had managed to salvage from the remains of their burnt-out home. It was painful to look at them so he had kept them tucked in the back of the journal he had started keeping as he tried to make his way toward the truth. "What?"
Dean snuggled back down, his quiet voice continuing. "I saw mommy, she was just like I remembered. But I'm afraid I'll forget what she looks like."
John pulled back some to look down at his son, fear filling his soul, "What do you mean you saw her?"
"When I was here at Pastor Jim's with Caleb, I saw mommy. She had never been here before and I was so happy to see her, I wanted to stay with her, I wanted you and Sammy to come too, so you wouldn't cry no more." John's breath hitched at his son's comments. Had Mary been with him while he was unconscious, was that even possible.
Then it dawned on him what else Dean had said, "Caleb was with you?"
Dean nodded his head, "He helped me feel safe, when we saw mommy, he tried to protect me before he knew it was her. Mommy knew Caleb too, she told him he wasn't evil no matter what anybody said. When I wanted to stay with mommy, Caleb said he would stay too."
John hadn't really talked to the teen since they had arrived back at the farm. He had felt a need to help keep an eye on the boy and he had stuck close since Caleb had been the only person Dean would talk to for any length of time. But with his son's statement John started to understand, on some level, why when Dean got worse, Caleb seemed to get worse and when Dean started to get better, Caleb had as well. "Caleb wanted to protect you?"
Dean nodded again, "But then he said I was dying and I got scared and ran away from him and mommy."
"You ran away?" John didn't understand that statement, matter of fact he wasn't understanding much of what his son was saying other than somehow the child had possibly seen his mother and some how Caleb was with him, protecting him.
"But then she came and told me that you needed me and Caleb's daddy needed him and that mommy was always with me. That's why I want a picture of mommy, so she can always be with me and I can see her. She told me that mommy was with me when I was with Sammy, but I don't know what she means because Sammy is just Sammy, he's not mommy." Dean kind of rambled, it was the most his son had talked to him since before the fire and though he was happy about it, what his son was saying was disturbing.
"Who told you all this Ace?" John turned his son in his lap so they were facing each other.
Dean shrugged his shoulders, "Don't know." John looked at his son; the child seemed to hold so much inside, hidden behind the moss-green eye's that looked so much like his mothers. Mary had always had an air of mystery around her too, like she knew more of what was going on than she led on, Dean possessed the same quality. In that moment, staring into his son's gaze, Dean's soul seemed to be centuries old. Like in the depths of his being he held all the secrets and it was his job to protect them.
John reached into his jean's pocket, pulling out three tiny objects and showed them to Dean. "Where did you get these? You put them in my hand when you woke up the first time in the hospital."
Dean's smaller hand reached out and he picked up the three crystals, no bigger than sunflower seeds. "She turned my tears into these, like magic. She gave them to me when I told her I missed mommy. She said mommy would always be in my heart and nobody could take her away. She told me that you and Sammy needed me, that's why I came back." Dean looked at his father as he laid a small hand against John's stubble covered cheek. "I didn't want you to cry no more." Dean moved back closer, again snuggling against his father, "I love you daddy."
John tried, but couldn't stop the tear that slipped free at the four words whispered by his son, but kissing the top of the boys head he responded in kind, "I love you too Ace, I love you too."