As Far From God As Heaven Is Wide (Supernatural, pre-series, PG) 1/1
Title: As Far From God As Heaven Is Wide
Author: Spinny Roses
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG
Warnings: Theories abound about the Winchesters
Spoilers: Pre-series. Hell, pre-Sam.
Disclaimer: Don't own. Title from "As Heaven is Wide" by Garbage.
Summary: Dean wouldn't stop crying.
As Far From God As Heaven Is Wide
By Spinny Roses
Dean wouldn't stop crying.
Mary changed, tried to feed, and walked him around the room in dizzying circles, but he just kept wailing. She and John were at a complete loss. Dean had always been a fairly good child, crying only when he was wet or hungry. It was almost a dream, how the dreaded 3:00 AM screams never came. How Dean let Mommy and Daddy have sleep before screaming for food, like he knew.
Maybe he was just too hot. June was a lot warmer than usual. Mary made a sleepy mental note to get a fan for the nursery as Dean slowly quieted, having exhausted himself with his warning cries. She placed him carefully back in the crib, feeling like someone was watching.
Mary left the nursery fighting the urge to look over her shoulder.
---
He. Wouldn't. Stop.
John shook his wife awake, rubbing one eye. "Mary."
"Mmph? John?" Mary squinted up at him, confused and only slightly awake. "Dean?"
John nodded, yawning. "Your turn."
Mary just blinked at him, then scrubbed at her eyes. That meant... Dean had been crying for at least three hours, all of which had been in her husband's arms. They had gotten the fan, taken Dean to the doctor, and none of it helped. What was wrong with their child?
Dean had never been a particularly grabby baby, but the instant she pulled him up to her shoulder he grabbed a hank of hair in each hand and pulled. Mary yelped slightly and tried to work her hair out of his hands when she realized Dean had gone silent. When she managed to get one hand free, he made a small noise that sounded like he was revving back up.
John woke up, alone. Looking into the nursery, he saw Mary sleeping in the rocking chair, Dean drooling in his sleep on her chest, still holding on for dear life to her hair.
---
"Maybe we should get Dean baptized," Mary said one evening.
John had just looked at her, surprised. "Weren't you the one saying we should let him pick whether or not he goes to church?"
The subject had been dropped then. How do you tell your husband, that doesn't believing in anything other than the natural, that there is something watching your son and is just waiting for the right time?
---
Dean spilled a bowl of Cheerios on the floor and spit up on John's shoulder on his six month birthday. Mary came home from shopping and wouldn't show anyone what she bought.
---
It wasn't Dean crying that woke her up this time, but rather a burst of static from the radio. John snored away next to her, knowing he'd only wake up for someone moving too quietly, gunfire, or Dean. Mary groaned, and got out of bed. She was already awake and Dean would be crying here soon...
She froze in the threshold, looking past the crib to the shadowy figure looming over it. Her fingers crept towards the hallway table, folding over what she had bought earlier that day. "Hey!" she shouted, with more bravery than she felt. "Get away from my kid!"
She was soon looking into eyes that were not, and a grin that was more a sneer. Something hit her in the stomach and she reacted, throwing a handful of salt across the room. The demon (that was all it had to be, Mary thought wildly) laughed. "Mary Mary," it said, its voice rolling around the hated repetition. "I thought it was you."
Which made no sense. Mary hadn't been that big of a Hunter. Sure, she killed a few skinshifers and banished a few ghosts but she had fallen in love with and gotten knocked up by an ex-Marine that didn't believe in Things That Go Bump In The Night. Her fingers curled around a flask, unscrewing the top quickly. "I said get away from my kid."
It tilted its head, looking at what was in her hand. "Holy water, Mary Mary? You know that won't work on me." It moved its head back up to look straight into her face. "You've grown. Before, you didn't even know I was here."
Her jaw flexed. "Ecce crucem domine, fúgite partes advérsae."
It laughed, moving away from the crib. "An exorcism? That only works, Mary, if I was here without permission." The dropping of the repetition made it even more dangerous, but it didn't touch her.
"What you did to Mom... I won't let you do it again," she said firmly. "Dean's not going to grow up without me."
"And waste his potential? Mary... even you know the rules." It reached out, touching her face. "Unless you want me to kill him now."
She went cold, and the flask of holy water dropped from her nerveless fingers. "No."
"Then what do you suggest?" Its fingers burned. She couldn't think, it was either her or her child and she couldn't let Dean go through the Hell she went through... "You only have a few more minutes, Mary, before your time is up."
"What do you want?" she whispered.
"You know." Its breath smelled like sulfur and rotting bodies. "You knew the first night you brought him home."
"Yes." It was said on the barest of breaths. "I know."
It leaned in further, almost kissing her. "What is your answer, Mary?"
The answer came to her, beating its way into her head in a way only a vision can do. "Sam," she gasped.
It leaned back, confused. "Sam."
She wanted to cry. Yes, she knew the rules. As a Hunter, she'd have to pass her powers on to her child on his six month birthday, combining with his own abilities like the little soldier it wanted, or they'd become too much for her and she'd flatten the entire block. But this... this vision, it'd stop the harvest for the most powerful psychic. "My second son. He'll be more powerful than Dean. You can... you can kill me then."
It hesitated. "Is this a true vision?"
"Yes!" God, she wanted to cry.
It pulled back. "Done. When Samuel Winchester is six months old, I'll come for him."
Mary didn't move as it disappeared, didn't move as the sky lightened.
---
"Mommy?" Dean's little face looked up at her. "I dreamed I had a little brother and you were gone. I don't want a little brother if you'll be gone."
Mary bent down, ignoring her swelled belly and the hairs rising on the back of her neck. "I won't be gone, Dean. And don't you want a little brother you can play with?"
"Only if I can play fun things, not things like Find the Thing That Hurt Mommy."
"Oh honey." She ruffled Dean's hair. "Another dream?"
"Yeah."
"Did you find it?"
Dean looked at her. "Of course, Mommy. We found it and punished it for hurting you. But I don't want that."
Mary let out a long breath, standing up. "It's just a dream, Dean. I won't be gone, I promise."
"Or hurt or anything?" Dean demanded, holding onto her shirt.
"Or anything," she agreed. "Go tell Daddy supper will be ready in a few minutes, okay?"
He nodded and ran off towards the garage, a litany of "Daddydaddydaddydaddy" filling the air. Mary sat down heavily, looking at the calendar.
The date was the second day of May.
End
Author: Spinny Roses
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG
Warnings: Theories abound about the Winchesters
Spoilers: Pre-series. Hell, pre-Sam.
Disclaimer: Don't own. Title from "As Heaven is Wide" by Garbage.
Summary: Dean wouldn't stop crying.
As Far From God As Heaven Is Wide
By Spinny Roses
Dean wouldn't stop crying.
Mary changed, tried to feed, and walked him around the room in dizzying circles, but he just kept wailing. She and John were at a complete loss. Dean had always been a fairly good child, crying only when he was wet or hungry. It was almost a dream, how the dreaded 3:00 AM screams never came. How Dean let Mommy and Daddy have sleep before screaming for food, like he knew.
Maybe he was just too hot. June was a lot warmer than usual. Mary made a sleepy mental note to get a fan for the nursery as Dean slowly quieted, having exhausted himself with his warning cries. She placed him carefully back in the crib, feeling like someone was watching.
Mary left the nursery fighting the urge to look over her shoulder.
---
He. Wouldn't. Stop.
John shook his wife awake, rubbing one eye. "Mary."
"Mmph? John?" Mary squinted up at him, confused and only slightly awake. "Dean?"
John nodded, yawning. "Your turn."
Mary just blinked at him, then scrubbed at her eyes. That meant... Dean had been crying for at least three hours, all of which had been in her husband's arms. They had gotten the fan, taken Dean to the doctor, and none of it helped. What was wrong with their child?
Dean had never been a particularly grabby baby, but the instant she pulled him up to her shoulder he grabbed a hank of hair in each hand and pulled. Mary yelped slightly and tried to work her hair out of his hands when she realized Dean had gone silent. When she managed to get one hand free, he made a small noise that sounded like he was revving back up.
John woke up, alone. Looking into the nursery, he saw Mary sleeping in the rocking chair, Dean drooling in his sleep on her chest, still holding on for dear life to her hair.
---
"Maybe we should get Dean baptized," Mary said one evening.
John had just looked at her, surprised. "Weren't you the one saying we should let him pick whether or not he goes to church?"
The subject had been dropped then. How do you tell your husband, that doesn't believing in anything other than the natural, that there is something watching your son and is just waiting for the right time?
---
Dean spilled a bowl of Cheerios on the floor and spit up on John's shoulder on his six month birthday. Mary came home from shopping and wouldn't show anyone what she bought.
---
It wasn't Dean crying that woke her up this time, but rather a burst of static from the radio. John snored away next to her, knowing he'd only wake up for someone moving too quietly, gunfire, or Dean. Mary groaned, and got out of bed. She was already awake and Dean would be crying here soon...
She froze in the threshold, looking past the crib to the shadowy figure looming over it. Her fingers crept towards the hallway table, folding over what she had bought earlier that day. "Hey!" she shouted, with more bravery than she felt. "Get away from my kid!"
She was soon looking into eyes that were not, and a grin that was more a sneer. Something hit her in the stomach and she reacted, throwing a handful of salt across the room. The demon (that was all it had to be, Mary thought wildly) laughed. "Mary Mary," it said, its voice rolling around the hated repetition. "I thought it was you."
Which made no sense. Mary hadn't been that big of a Hunter. Sure, she killed a few skinshifers and banished a few ghosts but she had fallen in love with and gotten knocked up by an ex-Marine that didn't believe in Things That Go Bump In The Night. Her fingers curled around a flask, unscrewing the top quickly. "I said get away from my kid."
It tilted its head, looking at what was in her hand. "Holy water, Mary Mary? You know that won't work on me." It moved its head back up to look straight into her face. "You've grown. Before, you didn't even know I was here."
Her jaw flexed. "Ecce crucem domine, fúgite partes advérsae."
It laughed, moving away from the crib. "An exorcism? That only works, Mary, if I was here without permission." The dropping of the repetition made it even more dangerous, but it didn't touch her.
"What you did to Mom... I won't let you do it again," she said firmly. "Dean's not going to grow up without me."
"And waste his potential? Mary... even you know the rules." It reached out, touching her face. "Unless you want me to kill him now."
She went cold, and the flask of holy water dropped from her nerveless fingers. "No."
"Then what do you suggest?" Its fingers burned. She couldn't think, it was either her or her child and she couldn't let Dean go through the Hell she went through... "You only have a few more minutes, Mary, before your time is up."
"What do you want?" she whispered.
"You know." Its breath smelled like sulfur and rotting bodies. "You knew the first night you brought him home."
"Yes." It was said on the barest of breaths. "I know."
It leaned in further, almost kissing her. "What is your answer, Mary?"
The answer came to her, beating its way into her head in a way only a vision can do. "Sam," she gasped.
It leaned back, confused. "Sam."
She wanted to cry. Yes, she knew the rules. As a Hunter, she'd have to pass her powers on to her child on his six month birthday, combining with his own abilities like the little soldier it wanted, or they'd become too much for her and she'd flatten the entire block. But this... this vision, it'd stop the harvest for the most powerful psychic. "My second son. He'll be more powerful than Dean. You can... you can kill me then."
It hesitated. "Is this a true vision?"
"Yes!" God, she wanted to cry.
It pulled back. "Done. When Samuel Winchester is six months old, I'll come for him."
Mary didn't move as it disappeared, didn't move as the sky lightened.
---
"Mommy?" Dean's little face looked up at her. "I dreamed I had a little brother and you were gone. I don't want a little brother if you'll be gone."
Mary bent down, ignoring her swelled belly and the hairs rising on the back of her neck. "I won't be gone, Dean. And don't you want a little brother you can play with?"
"Only if I can play fun things, not things like Find the Thing That Hurt Mommy."
"Oh honey." She ruffled Dean's hair. "Another dream?"
"Yeah."
"Did you find it?"
Dean looked at her. "Of course, Mommy. We found it and punished it for hurting you. But I don't want that."
Mary let out a long breath, standing up. "It's just a dream, Dean. I won't be gone, I promise."
"Or hurt or anything?" Dean demanded, holding onto her shirt.
"Or anything," she agreed. "Go tell Daddy supper will be ready in a few minutes, okay?"
He nodded and ran off towards the garage, a litany of "Daddydaddydaddydaddy" filling the air. Mary sat down heavily, looking at the calendar.
The date was the second day of May.
End