December 24, 1983
It takes longer to bring in all their gear and set it up than it does to fit the three of them into Bobby's life. In spite of his initial mistrust, by afternoon Dean is riding with Bobby in his truck to the woodlot on the edge of Bobby's property to cut down a tree for Christmas.
"You really think you can kill the monster that killed my daddy?" Forget Santa Claus, Bobby thinks.
"Not right away. But I am really good at investigating mysteries. Two years ago I didn't even know monsters existed; now, everyone comes to me when they want to know what they're dealing with. I'm going to help your mama figure out what and who the monster is and how to kill it, and help her keep you boys safe."
The boy is quiet for a couple of minutes, mulling over this information. When the truck stops he turns to Bobby. "Then why are we getting a tree? If demons can't find us, Santa Claus sure can't."
"That's where you're wrong kiddo." Bobby gets out and hustles around to the passenger side, but he's too late. Dean is out and already standing on top of the snow berm by the side of the road. In front of them is a semi-open area with dozens of smaller evergreen trees growing about five feet apart. "Santa's not a demon or a monster. He's immune to all our protection because he's a good guy, sort of like an angel." Bobby's just pulling this stuff out of his ass and hoping like hell that Mary won't be pissed at him for making up new lore so an almost-five-year-old will still believe in Santa.
"What if the Demons catch him? Won't they make him tell where we are?" The worry in Dean's voice, and the fact that the boy would even think to ask about it, is what makes Bobby want to kill the demons after this little family with his bare hands.
"Not a chance." Bobby scoffs. "Santa's too fast. He has to get all over the world in one night! And he must be able to teleport because he can get up and down chimneys or in and out of houses that don't have chimneys!"
Dean giggles. It's quite possibly the best sound Bobby has ever heard.
"Maybe he uses magic and makes hisself long and skinny like a piece of bus-ghetti!" The boy throws his arms wide and jumps off the berm, spraying snow and making Bobby laugh.
"That's as good of an explanation as I've ever heard." He holds out his hand and Dean takes it. "Come on, let's go pick out a tree."
By the time they get back with the tree, Mary and Sam are awake, and she has coffee, cocoa, and sandwiches ready.
Dean runs to Mary. "Mommy! We got the biggest tree in the whole forest! I don't know how Uncle Bobby's gonna get it in da house!" She hugs him tight.
"I'm sure he's already got a plan in mind. Get up in the chair so I can get your wet stuff off, and then you can have hot cocoa." Dean hops up into the chair and sticks out his feet so she can pull off his boots and snow pants while he shrugs out of his jacket. Bobby notices that Sam is watching Dean avidly, but has too much food in his mouth to make a sound. He catches Bobby watching him and smiles around his mouthful, tilting his head and making Bobby chuckle.
Mary looks over and rolls her eyes, "Sammy, you're supposed to chew and swallow, not just shove it in your mouth like a chipmunk." She tosses the boots and snow pants to Bobby, and pries the bread out of Sam's mouth in ten seconds flat. The baby objects loudly.
"Mine!" He shouts, and tries to get his treat back. Mary hands him one of those toddler cookies to gnaw on. His look of surprise has Bobby turning his back to laugh.
She notices and smiles, "Yes, they are both very funny, it's how you live through how gross they are."
"Hey!" Dean objects, "I not gross!" He looks between his mother and Bobby, takes a big bite of his sandwich, and proceeds to chew it with his mouth open, somehow grinning around it.
Mary turns away, choking back laughter. "His fa-", she sputters, looks like she might cry, then takes a deep breath and continues. "His father used to do that all the time – declare he wasn't gross or rude or stupid, and then do something that proved he was exactly that. It always made me laugh."
Bobby's admiration for her grows exponentially.
The boys reward her stoicism by blowing raspberries at each other that sprays a fine mist of food particles all over the table. Mary groans, but Bobby laughs.
Tree decorating is stupidly wonderful. Bobby brings down a box of ornaments his wife saved, they pop popcorn and half of it actually makes it onto strings on the tree. There are enough lights to cover the whole tree, and neither boy knocks it over while hanging ornaments.
They feed the boys dinner and put them to bed in the guest room. If there's a bit of whiskey added to Sam's bottle, Bobby pretends not to notice. He carries Dean up while Mary carries the baby. Dean is half asleep as they put him to bed, so it's easy for the adults to slip out and down the stairs.
When Bobby brings out the toys he bought, Mary stares at the ceiling until she can swallow the tears again. As they wrap gifts, Bobby starts asking the hard questions.
"Ok, tell me everything that's happened since the attack, don't spare any details."
"Actually, it started long before that."
"How long?"
"Ten years? My dad was investigating suspicious deaths and I went along to question the younger witnesses. We drove it out of a doctor it possessed, but while I was helping the doctor, it possessed my dad. As soon as we got home it killed my mom, knifed my dad while it was still possessing him, and then John showed up and it snapped his neck."
"Wait, John? Your husband?"
"Yes, well, future husband at the time."
"Oh Mary, I'm so sorry." Bobby wonders how she's functioning at all.
"It offered me a deal."
"Who offered…oh, oh you didn't."
"I had to! It said if I took the deal it would bring back John and I could have the normal life I wanted. All it would need would be a permission to visit."
"And you figured you'd find a way to fight it with ten years to set things up."
She looks down at the mess of wrapping paper, "Of course."
"It didn't occur to you that the SOB would mess with your memories? Demons always find a way to fuck you over."
"I was 19 years old! I'd never hunted a demon in my life. Suddenly, I'm alone with a demon in my dead father's body, holding my dead boyfriend in my lap. Tell me you would have done better, huh?"
Bobby shakes his head. "Hell no. I'd've asked him if he needed me to leave the door open." He pats Mary on the shoulder. "You got 10 years with your man, and two great kids out of the deal. Sounds like the best demon deal I've ever heard of."
"Now I just have to figure out which demon I'm dealing with, and what he wants with Sammy."
"We need to list out everything he said and everything you can remember about him, and then compare it to the descriptions I've got in my library." Bobby stands and stretches. "But not tonight. Tonight we clean up, have a nightcap, and sleep the few hours Dean's excitement will allow." He holds out a hand, and she grabs on to let him help her up.
December 25, 1983
Christmas morning is everything Mary could have hoped for (minus John). Dean adores the matchbox cars, and Sam loves the workbench for babies, although she has to hide her dismay from their host when the baby figures out which hole each shaped peg goes into less than five minutes after Bobby opens the box for him.
Mary is only a marginal cook, but she can do eggs and bacon. Bobby and Dean fall on the food like victims of starvation, while Sam gets at least 80 per cent of his scrambled egg in his mouth and only 20 percent in his hair.
Excitement kept both boys awake half the night, so they both fall asleep less than half an hour after breakfast. Bobby helps her put them both in the playpen. Dean naturally curls around Sam.
In the next room, the one Bobby calls his library, he puts up a sheet over one wall, and they work together to diagram out a timeline. After Mary writes down everything she can think of about the demon, Bobby quizzes her until she loses her temper.
"I swear, that's everything!" She hisses to keep from waking the children.
Bobby raises his hands, "Good. Sometimes when you piss someone off, they remember something because they forget to be afraid." Mary narrows her eyes at him, then gives him a sideways smile.
"You'd have made a good detective."
"Nah. Then I'd have to wear a suit and call someone 'sir'. No thanks."
Mary shakes her head. "Well, you got a lot more out of me than I thought was in there. Guess you were right about fear." She slides a hand in her pocket and feels something sticky. Pulling it out, she finds it's some of the sealant she used to make the bombs she threw at the demons.
"Oh my God." She freezes as her mind goes back to that last night in the cabin and their narrow escape.
Bobby is suddenly in front of her, gasping her hand. "What's wrong? You look like all the blood just drained out of you."
"The night we escaped from the cabin. The demon said…'We'll be the ones holding the vessel when the real boss is set free!' Now what the fuck is a vessel!?"
"I don't know, but is that all he said?"
"No, just the most significant thing."
"Think hard," Bobby goes back to the notepad he was using to take notes before. "Everything he said could be important."
She closes her eyes and puts herself in that night. "They offered to kill Dean I quick if I gave up Sam…we went back and forth…the gist of it was they wanted Sam. The demon who I made the deal with and who killed John wasn't there, didn't know they were, and that demon wanted Sam to grow up with me." Mary opens her eyes and looks up at Bobby. "I'm at as much of a loss as those demons were, why would yellow eyes want Sam to grow up with me rather than with demons? If they have some purpose for him as an adult, it would make a lot more sense to take him away from me."
"Not if it wasn't supposed to be you raising him."
"What?"
"Think about it. You were raised a hunter, you know all the tricks, a lot of it probably better than I do. Who checks on the baby at midnight? Not his daddy. His mother does. Especially the mother who might remember at the last minute that she made a deal ten years ago."
"Right!" Mary looks sharply at Bobby, "Or maybe it didn't matter who checked. The moment Sam made a noise we were awake. If we'd delayed – just sat on the edge of the bed for a few minutes – the demon would have finished up and left."
"And you'd be none the wiser. If you'd gone to check on him, it'd be you dead and your husband suddenly a single dad with a baby and a little boy, and a boatload of questions."
"Looking for revenge too." Mary says.
"Exactly. He'd probably take the same path you did."
"Talking to Missouri?"
"Yep. After that, it'd be him trying to keep those boys safe, learn how to fight the demon, and find him. That means finding other hunters and learning from them, and training the boys to do the same."
"Jesus." Mary collapses into a chair.
Bobby nods, taking the other seat. "Whatever this demon wants, the first part is for your kids to be raised as hunters."