The Plague Pt 15A FRAO Dean/Sam, John/Bobby
The Plague Pt 15
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairings: Sam/Dean, and John/Bobby
Rating: FRAO
Warnings: AU, M-Preg (Sam, John). Hermaphrodite characters (Sam/John) Graphic Sex, het and slash, Wincest (Sam/Dean)
Summary: In this world about 25% of all males are born hermaphrodites, although they function only as males. A demon creates a plague that kills most of the women of child bearing age, but one of the side effects is that the men who are born hermaphrodites catch the plague and become fully functional as females, without really changing their outward appearance. In order to keep the population from dropping dangerously the government decides that all the newly functional “breeders” must have a male partner and give birth to at least one child.
Thanks to Sioux_Sioux for the wonderful beta on the story.
It was an Indian summer, still hot in mid-September. And today was promising to be as hot and humid as it ever got. The sky was pale cornflower blue without a speck of cloud to be seen. Dean groaned as he slid the creeper under the Impala. He was using the down time to do some maintenance on the Impala and was just finishing up on the brakes. A pair of sneakers appeared by the car, and Dean squinted at them trying to discern if it was Sam or his father. Sam’s voice carried to him from ‘outside’ vaguely quivering from the slight echo of the undercarriage.
“I brought you a beer,” was all that Dean really heard. It was enough. He pushed the creeper out and leaned up on his elbows blinking as the bright sunlight hit him squarely in the face. Sam shifted so that his shadow fell across the other man’s face, and Dean grinned at him. Sam was rounder now, at six months he was finally noticeably pregnant.
“Dad says lunch is almost done. You might as well get washed up now.”
Dean took a long pull at the beer bottle and sighed as the cold liquid hit his dry throat. He stood up wrapping an arm around Sam’s waist as they walked back to the house. Dean’s leg was healed now, two months later, but he still walked with a slight limp. He shrugged is off as just one more of many battle scars they all bore.
The house was shut up tight against the heat, curtains drawn and the air conditioning working full blast. Still it did nothing to combat the moisture in the air, and John looked truly miserable as he sat on a chair beside the stove, waiting for bread to be done. In the past few weeks he had been working on his cooking skills since he was bored out of mind at the forced limitations on his movement. He was actually a passable cook now, and Dean grinned. Something about the ripeness of John’s rounder outline hit him in a deeply visceral way. Dean often found himself laying his hand on John’s belly watching as the little girl inside kicked and wriggled. At times, the actual imprint of a tiny hand or foot could be seen on the surface of the skin if he managed to talk his Dad into lifting his shirt.
At his last doctor’s appointment John and Bobby had found out that the baby had turned and was head down now. Bobby knew that meant that she was moving into birthing position. He was anxious and a little nervous although John seemed invigorated by the news. He was beginning to get into that phrase of just wanting the baby to be born. Still Dr. Kaplan had told them not to expect the new addition to the family any sooner than November.
Having been forced into staying in one place longer than a few months John and the boys had made friends. Mostly people that were acquaintances of Bobby’s but other people that they had met in town as well. As a result they were participating in normal family activities that they had foregone for so many years. At first it had been difficult, especially for John. It was hard for him to give up his normal almost paranoid distrust of others, but they were going to be living in this town for a long time.
So tonight the entire clan was going to Lawrence High School to watch a football game because Doctor Kaplan’s nephew played for the team. John and Dean had always loved football, and Bobby had developed a sort of appreciation for the game, but Sam hated it. Still it was the kind of thing that he had so desperately wanted as a teenager so he gave in, content to do ‘normal’ things as a family.
Even though it was seven o’clock in the evening it was still hot and humid. Bobby and Dean were carrying an arm load of blankets, seat-cushions, a cooler and anything else that John had decided was absolutely vital to the outing. Dean sighed; his Dad planned a family trip with the same paranoid precision that he planned a hunt. But he was damned if he was going to complain. If anyone even looked at John sideways Bobby got his back up.
Gloria Kaplan and her husband Mike were seated in the front row bleachers at mid-field. She had fended off various interlopers and kept half the bench for John, Sam and the rest. It kind of irked Dean that he and Bobby were ‘the rest’ considering they were doing most of the hauling but she was Sam and John’s doctor so naturally she felt more affinity for them.
Dean knew that Doctor Kaplan was forty-two, and since she had never mentioned having any children and was still alive it was reasonable to assume that she was unable to have children. But Dean noticed that Mike was pregnant, about as far along as his Dad if he was any judge. Then he wondered who the baby’s father was. The answer to the question became pretty evident when Doctor Kaplan’s brother arrived with his two little girls. Just the way he looked at Mike, even if he didn’t touch the other man, made Dean pretty certain that the baby Mike was carrying was his.
He sat back wondering if there was going to be some kind of a scene, and secretly hoping for one. This was much more interesting than the game, but both the Kaplans greeting her brother warmly and so Dean decided that if her brother was the baby’s father it was by mutual agreement. That sort of disappointed him. He was hoping for a good old fashioned Jerry Springer knock-down drag-out name-calling bitch fight. He sighed.
The game was predictable, but not bad, even Sam got into rooting for the home team. Bobby and John seemed to enjoy the game tremendously until a few minutes into the final quarter when John flinched rubbing his side just beneath he curve of his belly.
Bobby glanced over at him.
“John you okay?”
“Yeah, just a twinge.” John smiled flinching again. Bobby straightened up.
“Uh, doc, I don’t want to bother you, but John’s hurting.”
Doctor Kaplan handed her soda to her husband, and knelt down on the ground in front of John. She asked him a few questions then smiled. Turning to Bobby she patted his arm.
“It’s just Braxton-Hicks, false labor pains. John mentioned it last week. It’s perfectly normal, and he will probably experience them quite often as he gets closer to his due date. But I gave him a thorough exam last week, and he's not ready yet. I’m sticking by November 12th.”
John sighed.
“Are you sure?” he asked and was horrified at the whine that crept into his voice. Blushing he gave her an awkward one-armed hug. “So when is Mike due?”
She turned beaming at her husband.
“On Thanksgiving actually. We’re doing a C-section. He broke his hip skiing a couple of years ago and we thought it was best.”
Dean looked like he wanted to say something, but some semblance of politeness and his father’s stern glare made his mouth snap shut. Not oblivious to the interplay between the two men Doctor Kaplan nodded at her brother.
“Tom provided the semen for the artificial insemination.”
Dean and John both looked surprised, not used to such forthrightness. She laughed.
“It’s a whole new world reproductively speaking. I find it very exciting and invigorating. I got into obstetrics because I couldn’t have a child myself. And now I’m treating an entire group of people who were never meant to give birth. I’m actually doing a paper on the new wave of male mothers. I wanted to ask you if I could include you and Sam as case studies, anonymously of course.” She glanced as one of the other fans in the audience shushed her loudly. Patting John's thigh she stood up.
“Can I call you tomorrow?”
“Sure,” he said with a tight smile.
He was learning slowly to unwind around other people. And it wouldn’t hurt for him and Sam to let her use their information. No one would know it was them.
The next morning Bobby was re-arranging furniture in the nursery again. He was grumbling under his breath. It was the sixth time John had had him put things up then take them down again. Now he uttered a deep resounding groan and rubbed his back. He was just considering that maybe he was bit too old for fatherhood. He reached out and stoked the soft white lamb sitting on the end of the crib, and folded back the pink blankets for the hundredth time. He smiled.
Picking up the stuffed toy he settled down in the rocking chair and looked at the room. It was softly lit, the deep red cherry wood crib and changing table in one corner, and across the room a tall dresser and the rocking chair. He leaned back letting the smooth glide of the chair calm him. The closer they got to the due date, the more he felt overwhelmed. He supposed all new parents felt that way. John at least had prior experience to draw on, but Bobby felt like he was floundering.
John stood in the doorway clad in his flannel pajama bottoms and a baggy t-shirt. Still his protruding belly was extremely obvious. He grinned at the older man and Bobby patted his thigh. John sighed, and moved to sit on his leg. After a few seconds Bobby pushed him up again.
“Yeah, I didn’t think that would work. You forget how heavy I am now.”
“Just for a little longer John-boy. I don’t care what the doctor thinks. I say you’re ready to pop.”
Shrugging John leaned back against the changing table. He rubbed his stomach.
“I don’t know, she doesn’t show any signs of budging yet. I’d have to stick with the doc on this one.”
By the time that Halloween rolled around Bobby was considerably more agitated. John was eleven days from his due date and everyone in the house was more than anxious. Sam was seven and half months pregnant now, and he was hugely rounded. He and John both were going to the doctor weekly. Sam was going because he had been having unusually hard Braxton-Hick contractions and John simply because he was so close to his due date.
John lay on the exam table lower half covered in a crisp white sheet. Doctor Kaplan was seated on a rolling stool at the foot of the table and Bobby was standing beside the head of the table, back to the doctor. Something about watching the doctor touch John there made him a little queasy. She put the instruments on the tray.
“Well, I know that you both are really eager but I don’t see any effacement. John is not ready for delivery. Let’s watch for a little while longer, you’re not actually due for another twelve days. And remember with a first baby there is certainly more than a chance that you’ll be a little late.”
John groaned.
“Late, but I want it over. I love this kid but I want it out of me.”
She smiled patting him on the arm.
“Well, not today. I won’t even consider inducing until after your due date. If you still haven’t delivered by Thanksgiving well try induction.”
“Thanksgiving, that’s two weeks past due,” John grumbled.
Bobby helped him sit up. He turned a worried gaze on the doctor.
“Is there anything wrong with the baby? She moves around a lot, so why isn’t she ready to come out?”
“The baby is fine, and John is fine. There’s nothing to worry about. These things just take time. John might not have been as far along to begin with as we thought, sometimes this just happens. His blood pressure is fine. Weight is good. Just be patient.”
Sam and Dean were in the waiting room when John and Bobby got out of the doctor’s office. John looked at his younger son, and Sam smiled at him.
“So Dad, anything yet?”
Bobby shook his head.
“Nope no baby yet. We just have to wait it out.”
“What about you Sammy?”
“Well, I’m seven and half month along, but the doctor said that everything was looking good. I told her about the false labor pains. She said that was pretty common. I know that you’ve had them, Dad.”
John followed the others out the door.
“When we get back to the house I’m going to jump off the porch a couple of times and see if I can’t shake her loose.”
Bobby looked at him sideways. John just smiled.
The morning of the eleventh of November dawned bright and clear. John was standing on the front porch with a coffee mug cradled in his palms. Even this late in the year fall was just beginning to settle in. John hoped that meant a mild winter, he had never been fond of snow. He leaned heavily against the porch rail. For the first time in twenty-three years November second had come and passed without him spiraling down into depression. Bobby had been keeping a watchful eye on him, John knew. But somehow the approaching arrival of his little girl had smoothed things over. It wasn’t that he didn’t think about Mary any more. There wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t remember some little thing that she had said or done. His entire pregnancy had brought up a multitude of memories of Mary pregnant with Dean and Sam. But the memories weren’t as bitter as they had been, he was remembering the countless good times, and fought hard to keep his final image of her out of his thoughts.
Two weeks passed, and still no baby. John was pissed off now. He was working on forty-one weeks of pregnancy and he had had enough. He stormed into the kitchen and pushed Bobby back in the chair.
“I don’t know what’s going on here, but you put this thing in you get it out.”
Bobby grimaced patting John’s belly.
“I don’t know how to do that, baby.”
“Oh for god’s sake I’m fifty-three years old, stop calling me baby.”
“Okay John, why don’t you just settle down right now or I might have to take you over my knee.”
“Ha, empty threat, Singer. As fat as I am I’d just roll right off anyway,” John said with a sigh.
Bobby grinned at him.
“And bounce when you hit the floor.”
“Oh, great, mocking me when I’m in such a delicate condition.”
Booby grunted.
“You’re about as delicate as a Mac truck Johnny. Sit down I’ll make you some breakfast.”
John sat wincing a little and rubbing at his belly. Bobby noticed the gesture and turned from pulling a pan out of the cabinet.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, it’s just those damned false labor pains. I’ve been getting them most of the night, here and there. Nothing is happening really regularly.”
“Well, maybe you’d better take it easy today, all the same. It’s at the point to where she can come any time.”
Sam and Dean came into the kitchen and John frowned at them. The boys had informed Bobby and John that they were looking into getting an apartment in town. Sam was thinking about re-enrolling in law school after the baby was settled and Dean was working, despite Bobby’s assurances, at a garage in town. John hadn’t been happy about the idea of the boys living separately while Sam was pregnant. They had finally compromised; the two younger men would stay until the baby arrived then they were planning on moving out.
Sam looked a little tired, and he shuffled to the table and sat down. Dean poured Sam a cup of coffee and brought it back to him.
“Here you, go. It’s still fresh too, smells great.”
Sam accepted the cup then sipped at the dark liquid. He breathed in deeply and frowned when a sharp twinge of pain gripped his belly. John looked at his younger son, but Sam didn’t react.
“You okay, Sammy,” he asked.
Sam nodded.
“Yeah, the same as you those damn Braxton-Hicks contractions. Mine are getting a little worse what about you Dad?”
“No, I’m fine.”
Bobby sat down beside John putting a plate in front of the other man. He began eating his own breakfast then motioned at John with the fork.
“I’ve got to go into Lawrence and pick up some supplies from Grant,” he said.
John nodded remembering that Grant Hill was the silversmith who routinely provided silver ammo to hunters. John hadn’t heard of any werewolves in the area, but silver worked on a number of other unnatural creatures as well.
“Dean will be here with you and Sammy. We’re not leaving you alone again.”
“Yeah,” Dean added. “I’m just going to be working on the Impala a little more. A little body work, but if you two need me I’ll be right outside.”
Sam and John were in the living room watching TV when John noticed that Sam was sitting upright, his hands clenched at his sides.
“Sammy, are you ok?”
John’s back was aching and he hadn’t been paying as close attention as he should have. He rose quickly and was almost bent double by the searing pain the lanced through his abdomen. He grunted eyes closed. John hurried to the kitchen and brought Sam back a glass of water and his medication.
“Here take this, maybe you’ll feel better.”
Sam nodded, but as soon as John leaned down with the glass Sam cringed in pain again.
He swallowed the pills and motioned John back into his chair. “You’d better sit down Dad, you look like you’re not doing so well either. I’ll be okay.”
Sam bit his lip and watched as his father shuffled around the room, idly picking things up, re-arranging them, or cleaning at invisible spots on the furniture. His pacing was making Sam nervous, and his stomach clenched in agony again. Sam was frantic, he was still five weeks from his due date and although the doctor had told him the baby was fully formed it was still small. But after an hour of clandestinely timing the pains he had to concede that he was in labor.
John paused in his ceaseless wandering the lean against the wall taking a deep breath. His back was burning with searing pain, and he felt tears forming in his eyes. He was trying desperately to keep calm because he was fairly sure that Sam was in labor and he did not want to upset the younger man. Finally, Sam groaned and stood up unsteadily making his way to where John stood.
“Dad, you’ve got to go get Dean. I think I need to get to the hospital. I’m in labor.”
John nodded tugging Sam back to the sofa.
“Sit down. I’ll go get him. We’ll be right back.”
John disappeared out the door, but had to stop and rest against the porch rail as another pain lanced across his back. He panted putting his hands against the small of his back and pushing. He straightened up and felt much better. Sighing in relief he stepped off the porch and went to the car parked in the driveway.
Dean was under the Impala, and looked at the shoes that appeared beside the car. He recognized them as belonging to his father and pushed out from under the car.
“Dad?” he asked. “What’s wrong you look a little pale?”
“My back hurts, but you need to come in. I think Sam is in labor.”
Dean hurriedly stood, reaching out to steady his father when John staggered back.
“It’s too early. He still has five weeks to go. The baby’s too small.”
“Dean, let’s just get him to the hospital. They can probably give him something to stop the contractions.”
Nodding Dean hurried across the yard. John followed and had to stop again on the step panting as the burning pain in his back made him cringe. Sam was pacing in the living room panting. He reached for Dean immediately.
“Oh god, it hurts. Please Dean we’ve got to get to the hospital. I called Doctor Kaplan and she’s meeting us there.”
“Wait,” John said as they two younger men headed out the door. “You need to take Sam’s bag, just in case. I’ll get it out of the bedroom.
He hurried back to the rear room and picked up the small bag. His back burned with a dull fury, and he stopped once on his way back to the living room. Then he paused in the opened doorway when Sam let out a gasp of agony. Dean flinched hurrying to his side.
John held the suitcase out then groaned himself. Dean and Sam both whirled.
John was standing bent over at the waist in the doorway panting. Sam grunted in pain seizing Dean’s arm.
“Oh, God! Dean let’s go…”
John groaned again and Dean flinched when he looked up, face pale.
“Dean…”
“Oh hell no, Dad…please don’t do this.” Dean looked from his father to his brother, “Oh shit.”
Sam grunted. “Dean now, I can’t wait.”
Suddenly John doubled over, and then winced as a puddle of water formed at his feet. He blinked.
“Dean, I think my water just broke.”
“Holy crap, Dad, nooo,” Dean froze.
Suddenly he grabbed Sam by the hand and tugged him along to where their father stood.
“Dad, you and Sammy both get in the damned car right now. I am not doing this. Let’s just go to the hospital.”
Dean pulled Sam across the room, John followed close behind. When they got to the Impala Dean surveyed both his brother and his father. Sam was panting, white-faced and moaning. But John was bent over, pale and shaking. He took Sam around to the passenger side seat in the front opening the door. “Sammy, you sit down here. I think that Dad needs to be in the back. His water broke and yours hasn’t.”
“I don’t care just get us to the hospital.”
After Sam was belted in Dean closed the door then ran around and pushed John into the rear seat. “Dad, if it gets too bad lay down, okay. I’ll call Bobby when we get there.”
Sam was panting, gripping the seat in white-knuckled hands.
“Hurry, Dean.”
Dean started the car, and pulled onto the road toward Durham. John struggled upright in the back seat.
“Dean, you may have to pull over. I need to push…”
Dean winced.
“Oh no you don’t. Not in the car, Dad. Please not in the car.”