The Plague Pt 6B FRAO Sam/Dean, John/Bobby
In the end he didn’t have to make John go to the doctor’s office. Friday afternoon when they all congregated at the kitchen table for lunch Bobby noticed that John’s truck was gone. He swore a blue streak and then slammed his hand down on the table.
“I’m warning you boys right now, when your Daddy gets back I’m going to beat his ass for going out alone, again.” Shaking his head Bobby sighed. “What do you have to do to that man to get him to listen?”
Sam offered his a nasty smile.
“There isn’t anything you can do. Don’t you know that John Winchester is never wrong?”
The clinic had been built since the plague. The halls were blandly decorated, John supposed, in an effort to make it seem non-threatening but which just made it look like one more generic government building. John had never been big on the government anyway, at least not since he left the Marines, or more probably not since he had gotten home from Vietnam. Still, the clinic had been specifically built for one reason, and John was fairly convinced that he needed it for that reason. So he sat huddled in a too small, uncomfortable chair staring at a handful of other men, and felt like a fool. He was by far the oldest man in the room, and was getting quiet a few surprised looks.
The nurse was a heavy-set woman in her late fifties and she looked slightly resentful as she led him into a small examination room. Motioning to a table with a sheet and white hospital gown she said,
“Mr. Winchester, disrobe and put the gown on opening to the front, you can drape the sheet over your lap, the doctor will be in shortly.
John wrestled with the gown, which proved to be just slightly too small for his broad shoulders, and clasped the gaping opening around his chest. He scrambled onto the table and pulled the sheet up just as there was a faint tapping on the door.
The doctor turned out to be a small, slender woman with dark brown hair. She smiled reassuringly and John relaxed slightly. He got a little less relaxed when he found out just what the exam entailed, but all in all it wasn’t as bad as he had feared. She smiled when the nurse returned with the results of his urine test. The doctor smiled broadly.
“Well, congratulations Mr. Winchester, you’re pregnant.”
He thought he might feel strange, feel something more than he did, but he just felt relieved and then a little anxious. She could probably read his reaction on his face, and she patted his knee reassuringly.
“Don’t worry. You’ll do fine. I was a bit concerned about your age, at first. But you are extremely fit, and very healthy. Even so I have to put you in a higher risk category than someone younger. It’ll mean more frequent appointments, and more testing I’m afraid. We’ll get you and the baby through this just fine. Do you have a regular partner?”
“Yes, why do you ask?”
“I like to involve the father in the pre-natal visits as much possible, unless he would be uncomfortable coming with you.”
Just the thought of trying to keep Bobby away made John shudder. He shot her a quick look and shook his head.
“He’ll be here, doc. In fact, he’ll be a damn lot happier about being here than I will.”
She frowned.
“Don’t you want the baby? Even with this new law I won’t force you to keep the baby if you don’t want it. I can arrange for the pregnancy to be terminated.”
John felt his stomach clench.
“God, no. I want the baby, and I know he does.”
She looked less than convinced, and he smiled.
“Really Doctor, I mean it.”
“Well, I’ll put your due date at November 11th. I want you on pre-natal vitamins, and no smoking or drinking. You’re at a good weight for your height, so I’ll give you thirty pounds, but no more. I don’t think I need to worry about exercise, you look as if you stay fit.”
John flushed and stammered, but she held up a hand. “Don’t worry; I see no reason to curtail your sexual activity at the present. I would prefer that you avoid positions that are too stressful or tiring for you.”
“No problem, he likes to be on top.”
“That’s everything for today; I want to see you back in two weeks. After we see how things are progressing I’ll adjust your appointments as necessary.”
Dean and Sam sat at the kitchen table; Sam was working on peeling a bowl of potatoes while Dean scoured the newspaper for more information on the Increased Population Initiative that had finally become law. Bobby was standing beside the kitchen sink when they heard John’s truck pull into the yard.
The door opened a few minutes later, and Bobby turned around throwing the towel he was holding down onto the counter and folding his arms across his chest.
“John, after what happened to you and Sam both I thought we agreed that you two wouldn’t go out alone anymore.”
John frowned bristling.
“Look Bobby we aren’t married. I can come and go as I please,” he snapped.
Then he took a deep breath, this wasn’t going like he had planned. With a grunt he backed away as Bobby took a few steps forward and caught him by the arm.
“John, are you dead set on getting yourself raped this time? After those boys had you down in that parking lot I’d have thought that you’d see reason.”
“Nobody is going to rape me; they wouldn’t, not now…”
Dean frowned interrupting his father.
“Remember that little talk we had about how it’s a different world, Dad? I can guarantee you that if you push your luck; you’ll end up, at least, getting hurt again. Where’d you go anyway?”
“I had an appointment at the clinic in town. That new one,” he said blushing then turned to the older man. “Bobby, I ...uh…caught.”
“What?” Bobby froze.
John shrugged offering him a tentative smile.
“I’m pregnant.”
Dean and Sam gaped and Bobby's face broke into a grin. He grabbed John pulling him into a tight hug, and then gasped. Quickly he pushed the younger man toward a chair.
“God John, maybe you'd better sit down."
John rolled his eyes, "Bobby we're talking five weeks, I haven't even put on any weight. You could barely even see it.”
Sam turned to Dean and smacked him on the back of the head.
"Do you know how much older Bobby is than you? Huh, why is Dad pregnant and I'm not?"
"Hey, it's not like I'm not trying, okay? Give me a break."
Bobby turned one of the chairs around straddling it. He pulled John over wrapping an arm around his hips and squeezing one buttcheek. John looked down at him with a grimace. Bobby threw his shoulders back.
"Well, I don't know Dean. What's this you said about a young man's game? Seems to me that you're gonna have to eat some crow, boy."
"Look, we'll get there. I can't be held accountable if you and Dad are over-achievers."
John grinned and Bobby shook his head.
"Maybe your boys aren't swimming up stream the right way," he said grinning.
John laughed. Dean shot them both a dirty look.
"My boys swim just fine, okay? In fact, they're in there doing a freakin' backstroke, Dude," Dean said with a grunt.
Bobby grinned a little wider and then clapped one hand over John's belly.
"I don't know, bun in the oven…" he turned to Sam. "Nothing, cookin'."
Throwing up his hands Dean sprang up from the chair grabbing Sam by the arm.
"Come on, Sam. We've got a little business to do in private."
Sam frowned.
"It's not on the schedule, Dean. You're throwing off our rhythm"
John looked at his younger son.
"Schedule, what the hell do you mean schedule? You guys schedule when you…you know."
Sam sighed.
"Of course, I bought this book on the best way to conceive. It has flow charts, all right? And it's all very scientific with the optimal times for intercourse to achieve conception."
Bobby rolled his eyes.
"No wonder you boys got nothing. You don't need any stinking book. Just do what we did. When ever the mood strikes I just toss John on his back and wham, bam, thank you ma'am. No fuss, no flowcharts. Worked for us."
Dean cringed.
"Bobby, I don't want to hear about whatever perverted stuff you two are up too, okay?"
John settled in a chair beside Sam and looked at his son.
"I never thought I'd say this, but… Bobby is right. Look, when your Mom and I first got married your Aunt Delores and Uncle Roger got pregnant right after their honeymoon. Lola couldn't shut up about the kid, and your Mom… well she was really competitive with her sister. She wanted to start a family, so she did the same thing. She got a book. And we went on the same type of schedule, six months later we got nothing, a year later…still nothing. Your Mom just about went crazy. I swear we were on the verge of getting a divorce or one us killing the other one, when we took a trip to Topeka for a Grateful Dead concert. Long story short your Mom got a little tipsy on Peach wine and we ended up in the backseat of the Impala. Nine months later Dean showed up. Bobby and I even took the old girl for a spin once, just to see if she still had the old magic."
With a grimace Dean turned to the older men.
"Aw man, the backseat of my car? Bobby do you have any Lysol?”
Later that evening John stood on the porch looking at the yellow moon hanging on the horizon. He leaned against the porch rail shivering slightly. It was cooler than he had thought and for a brief minute he contemplated going back inside for a jacket. The door swung open behind him, and John didn’t turn around. If it was Bobby he’d know it soon enough. The older man hadn’t stopped touching him all afternoon. Grinning John thought back to after lunch. They had gone to bed, and he fell asleep afterwards. When he woke Bobby was already working in the small room across the hall from the bedroom, pacing off distances for nursery furniture.
Sam was in an even fouler mood that usual. John felt badly about that. It wasn’t his fault that Sam was born the way he was, hell John hadn’t asked for it either, but it was what they had been given. He and Bobby had both apologized for teasing Dean and Sam, especially since they both could see that it was really bothering the younger Winchester.
But Sam had been in a crappy mood anyway. The others finally decided just to ride it out and hope for an improvement in the near future.
Dean settled on the porch rail beside his father, John smiled and clapped his son on the knee.
"How are you doing, son?"
"Okay, I don't know why Sammy is making such a fuss about this. So you got pregnant first, what's the big deal."
John turned around letting his back rest on the rail and put his hands in his pockets.
"Maybe it just isn't meant to be. I could have been wrong about the baby not being defective. That could be why this isn’t working. Maybe you and Sammy just can't make a baby together. I just wanted to protect him, Dean. You know I sold you short too, I didn't stop to think what this might be doing to you, and I'm sorry. I should have never asked you to do this with Sammy, it was wrong."
The door rattled closed and Sam burst out onto the porch.
“I wondered why Dean did this. Where all this was coming from especially since Dean never had any interest in me that way before. God, I should have known Dad. You and all your bullshit again. Can't you just leave me and Dean alone?"
"I was just trying to protect you, Sammy. Please, I didn't want them shipping you off to some strange man, sending you somewhere that I couldn't watch over you, keep the demon away."
"So you put me in a situation worse than being with a stranger? You asked my older brother to screw me? And how sick are you, Dean? Isn't there anything you won't do for him?" Sam turned on Dean jabbing a finger into his brother's chest.
John frowned.
"Sammy, get yourself under control. It's not Dean's fault. If you're going to blame anyone blame me…"
Sam whirled. “Oh I do."
He took a step forward but misjudged and slammed into John's chest. John slipped off the rail, his foot sliding into the air, and missing the step up to the porch. His arms jerked upward as he clawed at the railing, but missed. John overbalanced and dropped heavily onto his hip and shoulder.
"Dad!" Dean screamed, "Oh god. Bobby…Bobby, Dad fell off the step."
Bobby was out of the door in a flash and down the step. He dropped to one knee and settled his hand against John's chest.
"Don't move, Johnny. Dean call 911."
John rolled onto his back, groaning.
"I'm okay, Bobby. I don't think that it’s necessary."
"What happened?” Bobby asked turning to Dean.
Dean stormed over to Sam shoving him back against the front door.
"What the hell is wrong with you? Do want to hurt Dad and the baby?"
Sam's face was chalky in the pale light streaming through the doorway.
"I didn't mean to do that. Look, I can't deal with all of you now. I'm leaving in the morning. Dean you're off the hook. I'll take my chances."
With a sob he fled into the house. Dean looked at him, and then down at his father. He quickly got his cell phone out of his pocket and dialed 911.
TBC