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mrswhozeewhatsis · 7 years ago

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Like Son, Like Father Timestamp

A/N: This is the first of three fics I’ll be writing for my 2000 followers celebration! I’m so sorry for how long these fics are taking. This one fought me. I wanted it to be a little funny, but the characters told me that there is nothing funny about this. Major thanks go to @littlegreenplasticsoldier and @manawhaat who both helped me fight with this monster, even though neither had read the original fic. (Seriously, so much fighting. They deserve so many medals.) I hope I managed to keep the reader at least somewhat in character!

Summary: This is a timestamp following the events of Like Son, Like Father, which is set primarily in the beginning of season 11. (”The present” is around episode 11.04 Baby.) You don’t have to have read LSLF to get this, but it would help. In LSLF, the reader is sent back to May, 1984 to protect John from the demon traveling back in time to kill him. While there, she has a fling with John, even though she’s in love with Dean, who has never indicated she’s anything more to him than a sister. When she comes back, angst ensues, and she and Dean finally get together. This timestamp is set in the beginning of season 12. Mary is back, and everything is just awkward.

Pairing: Past John x Reader, Dean x Reader

Warnings: ANGST. Some Dean fluff. Mostly angst, though.

Word count: 10,357

Disclaimer: Several scenes from the show are essentially relived here. I do not own those scenes nor have I written any part of them. The characters are not mine and those scenes are not mine, I’m just borrowing them.

When Mary first arrived on the scene, saving you and the brothers from Her Majesty’s She-Devil, Toni Bevell, you were nervous. The anxiety was partly due to the fact that you were meeting your boyfriend’s mother, your apprehension only amplified by the fact that she’d been dead for over thirty years.

Mostly, though, it was the whole “I slept with your husband” thing.

Your nerves frayed as you dealt with the Brits, hoping they didn’t know about you and John. They’d known so much, but hopefully your trip was long before the Winchesters were ever on their radar. After what seemed to be far longer than necessary, the Brits were gone and formal introductions were made. Hopefully, Mary would think your shaking was due to the torture. When it was time, Dean held you close, introduced you as his girl, and no mention was made of your little trip to 1984. After the house was cleaned thoroughly, you all piled into your vehicles and headed to the bunker.

The drive back to the bunker was more than a little nerve-wracking, since you spent it in the truck with Cas instead of in the Impala with the Winchesters. It took a toll on you, not knowing what was being said between Mary and her sons, but Dean and Sam reassured you they wouldn’t say a word about it. Mary didn’t need to know. And not only did she not need to know about your two-and-a-half-night stand with her husband, it was probably better if she didn’t.

Back at the bunker, everyone tried to pretend that everything was normal. A shower schedule was created, take-out menus were shuffled through and evaluated, dinner was eaten around a table (a glowing map table, but still a table), and Dean ate pie like a one year-old on their birthday (it got everywhere). If there had been a studio audience, they might have believed that everything was fine, but you didn’t think any of you did. There were too many landmines lying around and all of you were becoming experts at sidestepping the the triggers. To make matters worse, Mary continually disproved Dean’s preconceptions about his mother, while Sam spent the whole night staring at her like she would disappear if he blinked.

When everyone went to bed, you stayed up with Dean, trying to help him work through everything. You puttered around the room trying to be unobtrusive while he stared at old pictures and told you about crustless sandwiches and the best meatloaf he’d ever tasted. Soon, he was quiet again, and you settled down on the bed next to him.

“After Chuck and Amara wafted off to Disney World, or wherever gods go for a family vacation, I was trying to find my way out of the park when I ran into Mom. She laid me out so fast my head was spinning. And held me down with her foot on my neck!” Dean huffed a laugh. “I knew she was badass from when I met her during my trips back in time, but she still caught me by surprise.” He shook his head. “And then, after me and Cas get our asses handed to us, she just stabs this British bitch in the back with an angel blade.

“And all that, I could get. I could see it. Jody does the whole mom thing and the badass hunter chick thing, and you do it all, too, but I still thought she was different. She gave up hunting for a normal life. I thought she got out so she could make meatloaf and cut the crusts off my sandwiches. But she apparently didn’t make meatloaf, or bake pies, and now I’m wondering what else I got wrong.”

He put away the pictures and curled up in bed around you, his head on your shoulder so you could rub his back and stroke his hair. Just when you thought he was falling asleep, his voice rumbled through your chest.

“She’s so disappointed in us. She hates that we’re hunters. I think she even hates that we’re legacies. She hates everything she knows about our lives, and we haven’t even told her the bad stuff, yet.”

The breaking of Dean’s heart was almost audible in the quiet of the room. Your arms tightened around him while you worked to soothe him. “Whatever happens, we’ll deal with it. Together. We’ll make her understand, somehow. I’m not going anywhere, so I’ll be here to help you however I can.”

Dean leaned up and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips before settling back next to you and relaxing into sleep.

Things were good for about a week. Cas hung around while you and the boys helped him look for leads on Lucifer, and Mary slowly learned how to use a cell phone and a laptop, if only to make calls and use Google. It was sketchy, though. She mostly Googled references made in conversations, and Dean seemed intent on making her watch all the movies he loved, which you suspected might have been an avoidance tactic. If she was watching Hobbits and Han Solo, she wasn’t finding out about Heaven and Hell. Everything they talked about was idealized, all the dirty details and important truths left out. The boys were happy to tell her about Jody and Donna and Garth, even Bobby and the good times with their dad, but very little was said about the Apocalypse, Leviathans, or Purgatory.

Hiding so much of their past from Mary was wearing on you, and you finally had enough. You dragged out every alcoholic beverage you could find, lined up all the bottles on a library table, and called everyone out from their rooms. They converged in the entryway and stopped short, catching sight of the bottles you’d collected. After you set glasses at five places around the table, you stared them all down.

“We are gonna play a game I like to call Drunk History. Dean and Sam are familiar, but for you two,” you pointed at Cas and Mary, “the rules are simple. I’ll start by asking Dean a question. If he doesn’t want to answer it, he takes a drink. If he does answer it, I drink. Then it’s his turn to ask someone a question, and so on and so forth. For this game only, Mary is allowed to ask one follow-up question per turn, since she’s the newbie. Likewise, when it’s her turn to answer, one of us may ask one follow-up question. Cas, due to your angelic tolerance,” you pushed a large bottle of whiskey into his hand, “you drink this before we start, then drink for every question so we’re on a level playing field.”

Cas looked at the Winchesters, and when they all seemed to agree, he downed the bottle in one long go. Mary’s eyes widened with every swallow as she watched the bottle empty into the angel. He slammed the bottle onto the table, and looked at you with doubt in his narrowed eyes. “I really don’t think that will make much difference. It once took an entire liquor store to inebriate me.”

You shrugged your shoulders and smiled as Cas stepped toward the nearest chair, sitting down with an unusually heavy whump. The rest of you sat, each with a glass and a bottle, and the game began.

“Dean. I know your best subject in school was shop, but what was your second-best subject?” Even though you wanted to get serious later, you figured you’d start off easy.

Dean looked surprised at the question, then smirked. “Anatomy,” he said with a cocky wink and a smile at you.

Laughing, you smacked his arm. “I’m serious, Dean! I know you were a heart-breaker, but I’m talking real school subjects. What caught your interest?”

Dean shrugged while looking off into the distance. “Chemistry, I guess. I mean, I once had a hunt at a local community college and had to sit in on an engineering class that was pretty cool, but as far as classes I actually took, it was chemistry. Something about it just made sense. Atoms fit together to make molecules and stuff. I just got it.” Even though he’d answered the question, Dean took a drink with you, then turned to Cas with a twinkle in his eye. “Cas. I know your one friend did, but did you ever take a vessel that wasn’t a man?”

Cas nodded solemnly, and you noticed him blinking just a little more than usual, the alcohol affecting him more than he’d expected. “Back during the Lily Sunder mission, I took a vessel that was a woman.”

Dean’s eyes danced with mirth, and you interrupted whatever he was about to say by putting a hand on his arm and shaking your head. Dean’s face fell under your silent reprimand and he pouted into his next sip, making you giggle.

“Was there anything different about possessing a woman as opposed to a man?” Mary asked.

Cas looked thoughtful while he took his drink. “The clothing was far more restrictive. It’s very difficult to fight in a corset and petticoats.”

Dean’s laughter burst out of him in spite of his attempts to contain it, and even Sam chuckled. You and Mary just nodded at each other, both of you knowing how difficult it was to fight in a modern skirt, much less a hoop skirt. Cas ignored the brothers and turned to Mary, who was taking a drink.

“What was your heaven like?”

Mary smiled, lost in her memory for a moment. “It was Sunday afternoon, and John was watching football on TV with Dean while I played with Sammy and puttered around the house. Sometimes, I was tending my garden while the boys played in the dirt and John worked on the car. It was just quiet normality with my husband and my boys.”

Both brothers had a half-smile on their faces as they tried to imagine what Mary was describing. After a quiet moment, Mary turned to Sam.

“Okay, Sam. I want to hear about the first girl you kissed.”

The game continued like that for a while, no one really having the guts to ask the hard questions. It got a little serious when you asked about Mary’s first hunt, then a little silly when it was interrupted by an impromptu game of Never Have I Ever. You thought the switch was a good one for a while, because it got the boys talking about their relationship with Crowley and the Mark of Cain. That ended quickly, though, when you drunkenly said you’d never been to Hell and all three boys drank, making Mary’s eyes widen then fall. Pete’s petunias, you were trying to get things out in the open, but that surely wasn’t the best way to do it! In an effort to make things better, you hastily added that they’d also been to Heaven and Purgatory, but that didn’t seem to brighten her expression. At that point, you decided shutting up was a good idea.

Dean tried to get things back on track by asking Sam about Eileen, which made Sam blush. His face was already pretty red from being drunk, but it managed to darken one more shade as Dean teased him. Sam then tried to take the attention off himself by asking Cas when Jimmy had gone to Heaven.

“Jimmy’s soul moved on when Raphael smote me in Chuck’s house while you were off killing Lilith and breaking the final seal to free Lucifer and start the Apocalypse.”

Mary’s eyes widened and you hid behind your glass, but Cas kept rambling on before anyone could comment.

“When I was put back together, Jimmy was gone and the vessel was mine.” Cas�� eyes wavered as he looked at a frowning Sam to see if his answer was satisfactory, and then he burped and hiccupped, surprising himself so much he almost slid out of his chair. “I believe I might be feeling something,” he declared, finishing his fourth bottle and pushing it to the side with his other empties.

The rest of you laughed, watching as the angel reached for his next bottle but the laughter stopped when Cas turned to you and asked, “Do you believe it is a genetic trait for Winchesters to be interested in you romantically?”

All laughter stopped as your muddled brain tried to think of a way to shut Cas up. Sam went rigid with panic and Dean’s wide eyes and gritted teeth made him look like he was trying to slam inaudible prayers at the angel. Cas just waved his hand in front of his face, probably trying to push away all the mental screaming telling him to SHUT UP.

Sam finally tried to save the day. “No, Cas, I know we told you that I was interested in Y/N when we first met her, but I just told Dean that so he’d be okay with her hunting with us. I was never actually interested in her that way, man.”

Cas seemed to take a moment to consider this new information before speaking again. “Oh. Well, then that’s very different.” You, Dean, and Sam all took an almost visible sigh of relief. However, Cas barreled on. “If it was only Dean and John, though, then that poses an interesting question about vessels for Michael. Do you think perhaps your brother, Adam, would have also been interested in Y/N romantically, since he was the Winchester Michael eventually took for the final battle with Lucifer?” All four of you were frozen, staring at Cas while his angelic mind tried to work out the math equation this seemed to pose. If two out of three Winchesters have romantic feelings for the same woman, how fast must the train carrying the fourth Winchester be going for him to not fall in love with her, too? “I suppose I could attempt to free him from the Cage, as well, then we could introduce you and find out, but that didn’t work out so well for Sam.”

Thank Chuck for Sam. Sam was the first to come to his senses and grab Cas, getting his attention and pulling the bottle of whiskey out of his hand. “I think you’ve had enough, Cas. Maybe I should take you into the kitchen and make you a sandwich to soak up some of that alcohol, hey buddy?”

Mary stood up and glared at Sam, pushing words out of her mouth through gritted teeth. “No, Sam. I think I’d like to hear more about this Adam, but especially about my husband’s interest in Y/N, since no one else seems inclined to tell me!” Somehow, Dean and Sam both managed to look like chastised children, and you were sure you didn’t look any better as Mary’s eyes passed over the room, only stopping when they rested once again on Cas. “Go on, Cas. How did Y/N even meet John? When was it? Was it on a hunt?”

Cas’s eyes were wide as he swallowed audibly, suddenly aware of what he’d done, but physically incapable of stopping his mouth due to the alcohol in his system. “It was when we had to send her to back in time to protect them and set them on their path as hunters.”

Mary’s expression was thunderous as she turned to you, making you slide down in your seat a little further. “You set them on their path as hunters?”

The look of disgust on Mary’s face was no worse than the disgust you’d felt yourself about what you’d done, but it still felt different coming from someone else... from the one person most justified to stand in judgement of you. Suddenly, you were back in the days after you’d returned, wanting only to hide in your room and mourn for the life you could have given your boys if you’d only ignored the fate of the rest of the world. You’d gotten through it only because everyone had agreed that you’d done the right thing and had forgiven you repeatedly. Now, someone outside of your own head was telling you the same awful things you had told yourself, and everything in your stomach threatened to come up.

“Let me get this straight. You went back in time, cheated on my son with his father, my husband, and then convinced John to raise my boys as hunters? You were the reason he taught them to kill things instead of how to play catch? You seduced him and convinced him this was what was best for my boys?”

Tears were running down your cheeks, now, as you wished you could break the hold Mary had on your gaze. If looks could kill, Mary would have had you buried five minutes ago.

Dean stood up and got between you and his mother, Sam and Cas not far behind. “Mom, that-that’s not how it was,” he said weakly, his eyes bouncing back and forth between you and Mary.

“You’re defending her?” Mary hissed in disbelief, her eyes still glued to you. “She cheated on you, destroyed your life, and you’re defending her?”

While you slid down further into a pit of self-loathing, Dean’s hackles were finally raised and he stood up straighter in front of her. “Now, wait a damn minute, Mom. She didn’t cheat on me because we weren’t together, yet. And as for talking Dad into making us hunters, she didn’t have a choice. She didn’t like it any better than you do, but it’s what she had to do.”

Mary’s unbelieving stare finally shifted to her older son. “You’re okay with this?!” she uttered breathlessly. “You’re okay with all of it?! With her ruining your life and…and…,” she took a shuddering breath and let it out shakily, “sleeping with your father?”

Dean sighed. “I wasn’t at first, but I’ve made my peace with it, Mom. She was free to be with whomever she wanted, and Dad treated her well, so I have no issue with it. As for ruining my life, there is a list as long as my arm of things I hate for ruining my life, but she’s not on it.” Dean reached back and grabbed your hand, holding it tightly. “She’s only ever looked out for us and taken care of us, no matter how difficult that was.”

From the way her eyes bugged out and her mouth went slack, you thought Mary’s head might explode. She looked from Dean to Sam to Cas, seeing them all standing up for you while you cowered in your seat, then turned without a word and left the room. Slowly, the men relaxed and sat back down in their chairs, with both brothers grabbing a drink and tossing it back. You gulped down one of your own before pushing the empty glass away.

“Well, crap on a cracker. When I suggested the game, I wanted us all to talk some more about uncomfortable things; get things out in the open instead of pussyfootin’ around ‘em any longer. Since that was pretty much the most uncomfortable thing ever, I should have figured that would come up.” You sighed, almost shocked that you could produce words after the hellfire Mary’s eyes had scorched you with. “Thank you, guys, for sticking up for me, but you really shouldn’t have. She’s your mother... and she’s right.” Dean started to interrupt you but you stopped him with a wave of your hand. “She’s wrong about me cheating on you, and I didn’t set out to seduce your father, but she has every right to feel the way she does about the rest of it.” Running a hand through your hair, you fought the churning of guilt and alcohol in your gut and stood. “I’m going to go to bed, now. We can figure out how to try and fix this in the morning.”

Dean followed you to the bedroom you shared, and you went through your usual nightly routine together, with him standing just a bit closer than normal. His closeness filled your heart and made it ache all at the same time. He sided with you over his mother, and by sticking so closely to you, he was telling you that he didn’t regret it. Your elbows knocked together as you brushed your teeth, and the unassuming way he kept himself in your space, constantly reaffirming that he was there with you, brought the sting of tears to your eyes.

When you crawled into bed, he was right behind you again, wrapping his arms around you and nuzzling your neck. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me and I will never let anyone separate us,” he whispered, tightening his arms around you, “not even my mother.”

A few tears streaked down your cheeks as you thanked Chuck for giving you Dean Winchester.

***

The next morning you woke up late, the bed cold and your head throbbing. There was a glass of water and a bottle of pain meds on the night stand and you smiled at Dean’s thoughtfulness, even though he probably felt as awful as you did. You took the pills and finished the water, then dozed a bit while they kicked in.

Once you were feeling more like a functioning human, you threw on some clothes and headed to the kitchen for breakfast. Heated conversation floated down the hallway as you approached, stopping abruptly when you appeared in the doorway.

Sam and Mary both looked up at you, Sam giving you a weak smile and Mary just giving you a death glare, her mouth almost disappearing as her lips pressed into a grimace. As you moved towards the coffee maker, Mary got up from the table with a huff.

“I’m going to my room,” she spat out, not even bothering to hide her feelings.

“Mom, c’mon….” Sam’s voice trailed off as his mother disappeared around the corner.

When you had your coffee, you sat down next to Sam and leaned your shoulder against his. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry for how this is coming between you and your mother.”

Sam pressed back against you and sighed. “She doesn’t understand how it was, and isn’t giving me or Dean the time to try to explain it to her. Eventually, we’ll make her understand.”

The two of you drank your coffee in silence for a while, both of you lost in thought. When his cup was empty, Sam looked at you with a questioning squint.

“How did we get you to understand? I mean, you weren’t there with us when everything was happening, but you got it. What was it that made it real for you?”

You tried to play it cool, but your face flushed. “I read the books,” you muttered, knowing that Sam wouldn’t be happy to hear it.

Sam sat up straighter and shifted in his seat, his eyes glancing furtively around the room. “You read Chuck’s books?” His face morphed into Embarrassed Bitch Face #53, complete with Perturbed Dimples™. “Does Dean know?” Sam looked around furtively and dropped his voice to a whisper. “‘Cause he’s, like, full-frontal in those books.”

You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, he knows. He got over it. I know it sounds absurd, but those books really are the Winchester Gospel. Reading them gave me a real feel for your relationship, how manipulated you both were, how circumstances shaped your relationship with each other, and how everything came together the exact way that it needed to in order to save the world. It was a house of cards, really, but it worked.”

Sam frowned. “Waiting for her to read all of the books will be torture, and I’m not sure Dean will be up for that idea. There’s got to be a better, and faster, way. This tension is going to tear Dean up if we can’t fix it.” With a kiss to your head, Sam got up from the table and left the room.

After dinner, you were in the garage, watching Dean fiddle with Baby, when Sam called out through the bunker for everyone to come to the library. Mary’s gaze was still murderous when she took you in, and you shrank back, almost turning around to leave, but Sam gently led you to a chair. Dean sat next to you, Cas across from you, Sam across from Dean, and Mary at the end of the table furthest from you.

“I was talking with Y/N earlier, and she gave me an idea how we can fix this. Cas and I will need all of you to be open and willing to participate, though, or it won’t work.”

Everyone but Mary nodded enthusiastically. When Sam looked at her steadily, she gave a slight nod and a sigh, apparently just as susceptible to his puppy eyes as the rest of the world.

“Good,” Sam said with a grim smile. “Now, everyone join hands and close your eyes.”

Suspicious squints and slightly tilted heads from all around the table met Sam’s determined gaze and, after a moment without anyone moving, his perturbed dimples appeared with an epic bitchface you didn’t think you’d ever seen before. Slowly, everyone joined hands and bowed their heads like they were in a prayer meeting.

At first, all you saw was the red of the library’s lights through your eyelids, but soon a room formed around you. It looked like the back of a restaurant, and in front of you, Dean was being hugged by a very large naked man.

“Help!” Dean choked out before gasping for breath.

“Oh, help is on the way. Yes, it is. Yes, it is!” The naked man dropped Dean and headed towards Cas, picking him up and hugging much like he’d done to Dean. “Hello, you!”

“This is Cupid?” Dean asked, his face twisted into a grimace.

“Yes,” Cas managed to squeeze out as the man dropped him.

Suddenly, the man was heading towards you and you felt a wash of alarm, fear, and disgust rush through you.

Oh! I’m Sam! That explains how short Dean and Cas look, I guess.

You turned to get away, only to find yourself face-to-face with the naked man, anyway. Before you could defend yourself, you were squeezed around the middle and lifted into the air.

“Yes! Yes, yes, yes!” sang the happy naked man, still squeezing the breath out of you.

From behind you, Dean said, “Is this a fight? Are we in a fight?”

As the man finally put you down, Cas replied, “This is�� their handshake.”

“I don’t like it,” said Dean.

“No one likes it,” replied Cas.

The scene continued, Dean and Cas confronting the Cupid about the deaths that had been happening, which you suddenly seemed to know all about. The Cupid began crying, Cas awkwardly tried to comfort him, which made the part of you sitting in the bunker library giggle, and then you all finally got down to the bottom of things.

“Wait, wait, you said--You said you were just following orders?” Dean asked. The Cupid nodded. “Whose orders?”

“Whose?” he responded with a giggle. “Heaven, silly! Heaven!”

You and Dean shared a quick glance filled with confusion before Dean said, “Why does Heaven care if Harry meets Sally?”

“Oh, mostly they don't. You know, certain bloodlines, certain destinies. Oh, like yours,” the Cupid replied with a matter-of-fact smile.

“What?” you asked, though your voice was clearly Sam’s.

The Cupid nodded. “Yeah, the union of John and Mary Winchester--Very big deal upstairs, top priority arrangement. Mm.” His head continued bobbing furiously.

Righteous anger flooded your system. Even though this was old news to you, you were feeling everything Sam had felt at the time.

Before you could say anything, Dean jumped in. “Are you saying that you fixed up our parents??”

“Well, not me, but... Yeah. Well, it wasn't easy, either. Ooh, they couldn't stand each other at first. But when we were done with them--Perfect couple.” The Cupid looked so damn pleased with himself about it, you wanted to break his nose.

“Perfect?” Dean exclaimed.

“Yeah!”

“They’re dead!” Dean spat out.

“I'm sorry, but... the orders were very clear. You and Sam needed to be born. Your parents were just, uh… meant to be.” And then he had the audacity to begin singing. “A match made in heaven- heaven!”

Dean punched him, and the scene went dark.

You opened your eyes and glanced around the table. Sam, Dean, and Cas were all watching Mary as she processed what she’d seen.

“Cas was there for that, so he was able to help with the details I’d forgotten. The rest would be a bit blurrier if he wasn’t there.” Sam glanced around the table. “Ready for more?”

You nodded, but Mary took a moment before she looked up and said, “Hit me.”

One side of Sam’s mouth tried to smile but failed. “What Azazel did to me, he did to countless other children, too. Rumor was he was trying to build an army of special children. I want you to see some of them, okay?”

Mary nodded, and you all closed your eyes.

A skinny, pale young man was sitting in front of you, crying. This was Max Miller, and he killed his father and his uncle. He was about to kill his stepmother, too, before Sam and Dean got there.

“Why didn’t you just leave?” Sam asked.

“It wasn’t about getting away. Just knowing they would still be out there. It was about not being afraid. When my Dad used to look at me, there was hate in his eyes. Do you know what that feels like?”

Your head shook while brief memories of John yelling flashed before your eyes. So much anger and disappointment, but never hate. “No.”

The memory fuzzed as it fast forwarded, and soon you were upstairs, bursting through a bedroom door, trying to stop Max from shooting Dean with a gun hanging in mid-air. Max had telekinesis. You tried to talk him down, and he suddenly relaxed, making you think he was going to be okay. Max turned around, then the gun swung around and shot Max in the head.

Without a pause, you were on a bridge, rescue and police everywhere. A man you somehow knew was Andy Gallagher was telling the police that his brother shot himself and they all saw it happen. Every police officer nodded their head as if in a trance. Andy and his brother had mind control. A memory of Andy having to shoot his brother in order to save Dean and Tracy flashed through your mind. Andy walked over to you with his shoulders slumped and his eyes on the ground. The words he said weren’t clear in the memory, but you could tell that he’d lost his chance with the girl.

Sam offered Andy his phone number. “If anything comes up, just call me.”

“What am I supposed to do now?”

Dean answered before Sam could come up with anything. “You be good, Andy. Or we’ll be back.” As the memory fuzzed away, you got a feeling that Andy was good. All the way to the end.

Next up was Ava Wilson. The memory started in a motel room with Ava looking frantic.

“Why can’t you just leave town? Please? Before you blow up?” Ava had dreams like Sam.

“Because there’s something going on here, Ava. With you, with me. I mean, there are others like us out there. And we’re all a part of something, and I’ve got to figure out what.”

Ava completely lost it. “Okay. You know what? Screw you, buddy. Okay? Because I’m a secretary from Peoria and I’m not part of anything, okay? Do you see this?” She jabbed her engagement ring in front of your face. “I am getting married in eight weeks. I am supposed to be at home addressing invitations, which I am way behind on, by the way. But instead, I drove out here to save your weirdo ass. But if you just want to stay here and die, fine. Me? I'm due back on Planet Earth.”

That memory faded quickly, and next you were in an abandoned town, four other people around you. You recognized Andy and Ava, but the memory gave you the names Jake and Lily for the other two. Almost dizzyingly so, the memory downloaded information as you looked at Jake and Lily’s faces. Lily had an electric touch that killed her girlfriend and Jake had super strength. The next thing you saw was Lily hanging from the water tower after trying to escape the town. Jake was pulled from Afghanistan to this place, and when he didn’t believe what Sam told him, he was almost killed by an Archeri demon.

You then saw a flash of Andy telling Sam that his mind control had increased so he could now put images into people’s heads. Andy giggled. “This one dick? Gay porn. All hours of the day.” Andy giggled, and you felt Sam stifle a chuckle, too. “You should have seen the look on his face!”

The moment of joy you got from Andy was ripped away as you stood over his dead body. You glared at Ava, a sickening feeling growing in your gut about her.

“What? You don’t think that I--” she stuttered

“I’ll tell you what I think: five months. You’re the only one with all that time you can’t account for. And that headache you got? Right when the demon got Lily. What happened to you?”

Ava tried to deny it, but she eventually dropped the act. The transformation from scared and helpless to sick and cunning was so fast you were almost nauseated. “Had you going though, didn’t I?” she said with a sneer. “Yeah, I’ve been here a long time. And not alone, either. People just keep showing up. Children, like us. Batches of three or four at a time.”

“You killed them all?” Shock and dismay rocked through Sam’s memory.

Ava looked proud of herself. “I’m the undefeated heavyweight champ.” She scoffed at Sam’s disbelief. “I had no choice. It’s me or them. After a while, it was easy. It was even kind of fun. I just stopped fighting it. Stopped fighting who we are. If you’d just quit your hand-wringing and open yourself up, you have no idea what you can do! The learning curve is so fast, it’s crazy! The switches that just flip in your brain!” She laughed, making Sam recoil. “I can’t believe I started out just having dreams. Do you know what I can do, now?”

“Control demons,” Sam replied, his heart sinking.

“Ah, you are quick on the draw.” As she put her hands to her head, calling another demon, Jake came at her from behind and snapped her neck, killing her.

The memory faded and you opened your eyes, a whirlwind of emotions going through you. You looked up at Sam. “Jake was the one who stabbed you in the back, wasn’t he?”

Sam nodded. “He was a good guy, but the demon told him that only one of us could live, and Jake believed him. He told me he was going to get out alive just so he could kill the bastard. Well, he got out, but never even tried to kill him. A few days later, he opened the Devil’s Gate for him.” Sam turned to his mother. “I wanted you to see that there were others like me, good people who were raised not knowing a thing about monsters or hunting, and they were either killed, or turned into monsters, themselves. Ava was sweet and kind and scared when I met her, and she was turned into what you saw. If it weren’t for how Dad raised us, I might not have survived as long as I did. Or I might have believed his lies, too, and become a monster like she was.”

Mary shook her head and grabbed Sam’s hand in both of hers. “No, Sam. You couldn’t!” she insisted quietly, her voice hoarse and broken.

Sam pulled his hand away and his head dropped in shame. “But I did, Mom. Jake killed me, and Dean brought me back. When Dean died, I went down a really dark road, but Dean never gave up on me. I made a lot of mistakes, but Dean was always there, trying to keep me on the straight and narrow, and helping me clean up everything I broke. If Dad hadn’t raised us the way he did, left us alone as often as he did, told Dean to watch out for me all the time, everything would have been different.”

Mary still shook her head, but Sam took her hand again, reinstating the circle, and started another memory.

You were in some kind of abandoned house, Crowley standing in front of you, looking smug, as usual.

“For the record, I’m against this. I begged Dean not to come back. We should be miles away from you. So, go ahead. Ruin our last, best hope. It’s only the end of the world.”

You moved into the next room where Dean had a man tied to a chair with a bloody bag over his head. “What’s going on, Dean?” Sam’s voice asked through your mouth.

“I’m doing this because I trust you. I need you to stay focused.”

The man in the hood looked up, even though he couldn’t see. “Sam? Is that you?”

Dean removed the hood, revealing Tyson Brady. Memories flashed past your eyes. Laughing with Brady, that awful semester when he went off the rails, helping him get back on track, group study sessions with Jess. Oh, God, Jess was beautiful! The rush of memories continued through your own thought.

“Brady hasn't been Brady in years. Not since, oh… middle of our sophomore year?”

“What?” More flashes of college classes and parties and studying flickered in the background.

“That's right. You had a devil on your shoulder even back then. All right, now, let it all sink in.”

There was a flash of Brady pointing out Jess from across the room and giving you a push towards her. “Her name’s Jess. Go get her, tiger,” echoing after you. Rage and pain filled every part of you and you felt a sting of tears that weren’t Sam’s.

You freaked out, screaming, trying to attack Brady, but Dean pulled you away. The memory fast forwarded, turning your stomach a little, but you got the general gist. For whatever they were doing, they needed Brady. Sam couldn’t kill him. The memory began to replay at normal speed again when Sam trapped Dean in the bathroom and went back to Brady.

“Sophomore year, huh?” Sam’s voice said from your mouth.

“Brady, here, he was a good kid --Straight arrow. I mean, your best friend, really. Perfect point of access. Remember when I came back from break all messed up -- Dropped out of pre-med, the drugs, the bitches? That was the new Brady. That was me. Remember how much time you spent trying to get me back on the right track? You really were a good friend. But ol' Yellow Eyes didn't send me back to be your friend. No, we could tell we were starting to lose you. You were becoming a mild-mannered, worthless sack of piss. Now, come on! We couldn't have that. You were our favorite! So, I hooked you up with a pure, sweet, innocent piece of tail. And then I toasted her on the ceiling. That's right -- Azazel might have put the hit out on Jessica, but, man, I got to have all the fun!”

Sam’s hand twitched around the demon knife, but nothing was said. Flashes of Jess burning on the ceiling burst through the image of Brady in front of you. More phantom tears streaked down your face.

Brady laughed. “You know, she thought we were friends, too. Let me right in. She was baking cookies. She was so surprised... so hurt when I started in on her.” Brady continued to goad Sam, but he didn’t fall for the bait. You left the room and everything went dark again.

You looked up, taking in Sam sitting on the other side of the table through the tears in your eyes. He opened his eyes and glanced quickly at you and his mother. Mary also had tears streaming down her face. Sam focused on Dean for a second before taking a deep breath and closing his eyes again. The next memory began, forcing you to close your own.

This memory wasn’t like the others, though. Suddenly, you felt crowded in your own skin, panic rising as you fought, but nothing changed. Sam’s voice seemed to come from somewhere else, even though the view was similar to the previous memories. Even more so than with the previous memories, though, you felt completely out of control. You soon figured out why.

Sam’s body stood in front of a mirror, but the posture, the facial expressions, and the tone of voice were all wrong. Knowing Sam’s history, you suspected who was in charge.

Lucifer.

“Sam. Come on. I can feel you... scratching away in there. Look... I'll take the gag off, okay? You got me all wrong, kiddo. I'm not the bad guy here.”

“I'm gonna rip you apart from the inside out. Do you understand me?” you yelled at Sam’s reflection, but the reflection didn’t move.

The memory fuzzed a bit, the words spoken fading in and out, but the vision of Lucifer’s smug smile on Sam’s normally gentle face remained. You got the feeling that Lucifer was offering the world to Sam, but Sam refused.

“Look closely. None of these little devils look familiar to you?” You were suddenly aware of the group of demons standing around you. Recognition flooded your system.

“That's Mr. Bensman...one of my grade-school teachers.”

Lucifer smiled. “And that's your friend Doug from that time in East Lansing. And Rachel... your prom date. Sam Winchester, this is your life. Azazel's gang – watching you since you were a rugrat, jerking you around like a dog on a leash. I know how you feel about them. Me, too. So, what do you say you and I blow off a little steam?”

Just as Sam’s hand moved towards the first demon, a flood of murderous intent washing over you, the memory shut down abruptly, leaving you feeling shaken and slightly nauseated. You opened your eyes and let go of Dean’s and Cas’ hands, not wanting to be thrust into another memory right away if that’s what Sam had in mind. You had known all of this from reading the books, but being in Sam’s memory gave it all a whole new depth of feeling.

“Oh, Sam!” Mary cried, almost leaping from her chair to take her younger son in her arms. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Sam. I’m so sorry.”

Sam melted into his mother, patting her back carefully, but soon pushing her back to her chair. “That’s not why I showed you this, Mom. I showed you all of that, so you could see what we were up against. Now, you need to see how we got through it.”

Mary sat back down, and everyone joined hands again.

Sam grabbed Mary’s and Cas’ hands again, reinstating the circle, and a new memory flickered behind your eyelids. From the feel of the memory, you figured out that Lucifer was in charge again. Looking up, you saw Dean driving the Impala through a field, towards you, radio blaring Def Leppard. Dean stepped out of the car and said, “Howdy boys! Sorry, am I interrupting something?”

Michael went up in flames, Cas exploded, Lucifer slammed Dean into the Impala, Bobby’s neck snapped, and Lucifer continued to beat Dean senseless. Dean didn’t give up, though.

“Sammy? Are you in there? It’s okay, Sammy. I’m here. I’m not gonna leave you.”

In front of Dean’s gory visage was a stream of memories with Dean. Dean making dinner when he still a kid, himself. Dean accepting the amulet Sam had meant for John. Dean threatening bullies that went after Sam. Dean telling Sam to do his homework. Teenage Dean pushing Sam out of the way during a hunt. Dean pushing a Zeppelin tape into Baby’s radio and saying, “Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole!” Dean pulling Sam out of the burning apartment with Jess on the ceiling. Dean looking pale and sick, saying, “You’re not gonna let me die in peace, are you?” while Sam replied, “I’m not gonna let you die, period.” Dean screaming Sam’s name as Sam stumbled towards him with paralyzing pain burning into his back, then holding him securely as Sam’s life slipped away. Dean looking at Sam with tears in his eyes and saying, “I couldn’t live with you dead. Couldn’t do it.” Dean dying a hundred times at the Broward County Mystery Spot. Dean singing along to the radio and drumming on the steering wheel. Dean teaching Sam how to fix the Impala. Dean getting his hand glued to his beer bottle. Dean helping Sam carve initials into the back of the Impala. Dean startled awake in the passenger seat when Sam honked the horn. Dean sitting next to him on the hood of the car looking up at the stars. Dean sitting in a laundromat, telling Sam about sitting in a laundromat reading about himself sitting in a laundromat. Dean driving fast, laughing at something Sam said.

All of these memories and more flashed past your eyes and coalesced into Sam’s hands holding a beaten Dean against the side of the car, his face swollen and nearly unrecognizable. The feeling of being crowded and out of control faded as you filled your own skin and pushed Lucifer behind you. You gained control over Sam’s limbs from Lucifer and dropped Dean, stepping back.

“It's okay, Dean. It's gonna be okay. I've got him.”

The memory faded to black and your eyes opened, but you still couldn’t see for the tears. You looked at Mary, only to see her face buried in her hands. Sam rested one of his hands on her arm.

“Mom, you need to understand. If Dad had done anything differently, we wouldn’t have been strong enough to do what we needed to do. We made a lot of mistakes, but we came out on top. And we continue to come out on top. If Y/N hadn’t convinced Dad to raise us the way he did, even though he hated every minute, we would all be in a much different place.”

Mary’s hands dropped from her face, showing her tear-streaked cheeks and despairing eyes. “I just never wanted any of this for either of you, much less what you actually went through.” She looked at you, but you couldn’t read her expression. “I see now why you did what you did. I don’t like it, but I understand it.”

You nodded. “I don’t like it, either, really.”

Mary stood up, wiping her hands on her jeans. “I’ve got a lot to process, so I’m going to bed. Good night, everyone.” With a quick flash of a smile, she was gone.

The rest of you stood up, and you walked over to Sam, wrapping your arms around him to give him the tightest hug you could manage. “I’m so sorry, Sam,” you mumbled into his shirt.

His arms tightened around you. “It’s okay, Y/N. It’s not your fault.”

“Then I’m just sorry I had to be a part of it.”

Sam dropped a kiss to your head and released you into Dean’s arms. Dean led you to the bedroom, helping you get ready for bed and dropping kisses on your head every now and then. You went to sleep once again wrapped up in Dean, wondering how you would get past this with Mary.

***

The next morning, Cas had a lead on Lucifer, leaving the rest of you to go on a hunt that Mary had found. You suspected Mary wanted to work the case alone, but she let it slide. The drive wasn’t too tense, as long as you stayed quiet in the back seat with Sam. Dean was a bit overprotective of Mary during your first sweep of the haunted house, and when she got hurt, you half expected him to bundle her up in blankets and bubble wrap while hyperventilating. He kept himself together, though, and you were proud of him.

Your pride ended when you got back to the motel. Mary tried to talk to the boys, but their fear of her getting hurt and belief that they knew better meant they didn’t hear a word she said. Yes, she was overwhelmed by how much legwork could be done with a laptop instead of knocking on doors, but you could see she had learned something during her attack and the boys just rolled right over her. You stayed out of the way, sidelined yourself when Dean suggested you stay back, and vowed to smack Dean upside the head later. When they left to go salt and burn the graves of the children, you waited until the door clicked shut before taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, along with your frustration.

Mary fidgeted as she sat on the end of the bed, her brow furrowed and her mouth nearly disappearing.

“Okay. Now that God’s gifts to hunting have decided that they’re right and have gone off to challenge each other in a grave-digging contest, how about the two of us follow up with your idea?”

The surprise on Mary’s face was almost comical. “I thought you agreed with them!”

Shrugging, you waved a hand at the door. “Meh. Sometimes it’s easier to let them do their thing. Besides, there’s a chance they could be right, and burning bones is never a bad idea when you’re dealing with ghosts.” You chanced a look at her and were encouraged by her almost smile. “I just think there’s a possibility that they’re wrong and you’re onto something. That monster Sam mentioned doesn’t exactly line up with the older deaths, just the most recent ones. It lures in adults, but only the recent deaths were adults, the rest were kids. So, you tell me what you want to do, and I’ll help you with the technical side of things.” You shifted in your seat, suddenly unsure of yourself again. “If that’s okay with you?”

Mary moved from the bed over to the table across from you. “Thank you,” she said, giving you a sincere smile.

For a couple of hours, you both talked to the parents of the kids that had been killed in the house previously. It was heart-breaking, but you did learn that no one had heard a child crying before the most recent deaths. It didn’t mean it didn’t happen, but it strengthened your resolve to prove that Mary was right. When you were both off the phone, you compared notes.

“I really think that whatever this is, it wants kids, not adults. I think the house has been empty so long that it just decided to get whatever it could, and that’s why it changed M.O.”

Mary nodded in agreement. “We have to go back to the house and search it again. The ghost that burned me was Lucas, the boy that died there in ‘04. He asked me to help him. Maybe if we go back he can give us another clue.”

You agreed and started to pack the weapons bag. As you reached for your jacket, you realized Mary was still sitting, just watching you with a half grimace on her face. “Do you want to wait until the boys get back or something?”

Mary frowned and shook her head, her knuckles turning white as she gripped the arm of the chair before taking a deep breath. “Tell me about your trip back to 1984. Before I go into a hunt with you, I need to understand. I need….”

All the blood left your face and you suddenly felt cold. “Fuzzy trucker,” you mumbled, your eyes dropping to the ground, then closing as you steeled your nerves. You shook the tremble from your hands and sat back down at the table. Unable to look at Mary, you kept your eyes trained on your fingers while you told her your story.

“It was about a year ago. Things were better than ever, even though we’d released the Darkness into the world and had no idea how to deal with her. Dean was doing so much better without the Mark on his arm. He and I had settled into a comfortable friendship and it just made all of us feel hopeful for the first time in a long time. The boys were taking care of a hunt while I stayed behind with Cas, helping him recover from a curse Rowena had put on him. Crowley showed up telling us that an angel and a demon had conspired to send the demon back in time to take out John. They figured that the Apocalypse was better than the Darkness, and taking out John would change everything. To be clear, the way Crowley and Cas put it was that if John didn’t raise them as hunters, then Sam would be a good king of Hell. Azazel’s gang would groom him, without interference, to lead the armies of Hell and be Lucifer’s vessel. Heaven would convince Dean to accept Michael. The world as we know it would end.

“So, I went back. I met John, I taught him the basics of salt and holy water, taught him devil’s traps and exorcisms, and got him armed and ready. I… I taught him about how hustling pool can be a good way to make cash, and he learned to not argue when I put on my tightest clothes to do it. I gave him tips on fighting monsters hand-to-hand, and watched the boys while he had his first uninterrupted shower since you’d died. After a couple of days, the demon came and I killed it. The spell was supposed to bring me back automatically when the timeline was restored, you know? So, the demon was dead, and there I was, still in 1984.”

You risked a peek at Mary’s face, but it was unreadable.

“We salted and burned the body, cleaned up everything, and I was still there. We searched for signs that another demon or some other threat was coming, but there was nothing. We did a salt and burn nearby, and celebrated Sam’s birthday, and I was still there. I checked with Missouri, and she said the spell was still active, so there was still something I needed to do, but we didn’t know what. I almost gave up on coming back. I figured I’d end up reliving those years, trying to avoid myself, trying to do right by Dean and Sam and John, somehow.”

“And that’s when you… got close to my husband,” Mary said, her voice flat and emotionless.

With tears in your eyes, you nodded. “He loved you so much, and I loved Dean, but you were dead, and Dean had done everything he could to push me away and make sure I knew he thought of me like a sister. And then we were just there, both of us wanting someone else, but stuck with each other. The spell only brought me back when I finally admitted that I was from the future and explained as best I could why he had to raise them the way he did. The second I finished telling him what their lives would be like, the spell kicked in and I was gone.”

You wiped tears from your face while Mary considered your words.

“Did John… care for you?” Mary’s face was pinched as she pushed the words from her mouth.

You nodded. “In a way. Nothing like how he loved you. I was the person who gave him a roadmap when he was lost, protected him and his sons when they were in danger, and then told him he had to do awful things to his own children in order to save the world. I’m the one who taught him how to load shotgun shells and convinced him to flirt with the motel manager so she’d babysit the kids for free, but I was also the one who told him his boys would be more than he could ever imagine. If there was any love there, it was matched with just as much hate.”

Both of you now had silent tears on your cheeks, neither of you able to look the other in the eye. Sniffles echoed in the room as you waited for Mary to process everything you’d told her. Lights from passing cars flickered over the walls as your tears dried and you hoped for the best. When Mary finally spoke, her voice seemed overly loud in the quiet, startling you.

“Thank you for telling me everything and not trying to sugarcoat it. I needed to hear it from you, not a watered-down version from Dean and Sam.” She sighed and looked around room idly. “It sounds like you and Dean got past whatever awkwardness you had when you came back.”

You chuckled. “Yeah. Sam still isn’t over the idea that I changed his diaper, though.”

Mary cracked a half smile at that and shook her head. “All right. Let’s go talk to Lucas’ ghost.”

***

Back at the bunker, you were all about to scatter for showers and dinner prep when Dean and Mary began talking about the case. Mary explained what Moriarty had been thinking when he’d possessed her, giving a shudder at his intensity.

“Mom, it’s okay. All right? You’re home, now,” Dean said.

Mary’s sad expression made your heart drop and gave you a sick feeling in your stomach.

“No,” she said quietly, “I’m not.” Mary looked at both Dean and you, almost pleading with you both to understand. “I miss John. I miss my boys.”

Sam moved closer to Mary and said, “We’re right here, Mom.” The strain in his voice almost broke your heart.

Mary’s eyes were wide, her brow furrowed. “I know. In my head. But I’m still mourning them as I knew them.” She looked back and forth between her grown sons, but obviously wasn’t making the connection. “My baby Sam. My little boy Dean. It just feels like yesterday, we were together in Heaven, and now… I’m here, and John is gone, and they’re gone, and you all have led lives and done things I can barely even imagine.” Her eyes landed on you, and you feared she was blaming you for something, but her words said otherwise. “You’ve explained everything as best you can, but it’s just so much, and every moment I spend with you, every new story I hear just reminds me of every moment I lost with them.”

Both Dean and Sam shifted uncomfortably where they stood, trying to deny what they knew what coming.

“I thought hunting, working, would clear my head-”

Sam interrupted, “Mom… w-what are you trying to say?”

Mary sighed. “I have to go.” She watched as everyone reacted, faces falling. “I’m sorry. I’m so… so sorry. I just need a little time.”

She moved towards Dean, but he backed away from her, taking a step closer to you. You grabbed his hand, squeezing it tightly, hoping you could help to bandage the wound his mother was opening. Mary gave up on Dean, picked up John’s journal, and hugged Sam tightly.

“I love you,” she said to Sam, then turned back to Dean, though he couldn’t see her the way he was facing. “I love you both.”

She glanced at you and you gave her a quick nod, letting her know you’d do your best to take care of the boys after she left. Grabbing her bag, she headed up the stairs, the slamming of the door making Sam jump.

Dean tried to pull his hand from yours and walk away, but you wouldn’t let him. You pulled him into your arms, pulling him down to your level and wrapping yourself around his shoulders. Looking past Dean, you saw Sam looking lost, so you waved him into your hug, too. When they both let you go, you grabbed a hand from each of them and made them look at you.

“She just needs time. She needs to make that connection between her babies and the two overgrown men you are now, and that has nothing to do with who you are and what you do. At the same time, she has to learn that 8-tracks aren’t viable, you can’t buy leg warmers anywhere, and a magic brick that fits in your pocket can access information from around the world without you even having to push a button. It’s just more than she can handle at once. So, she’ll learn how to use a microwave, get into a routine that’s familiar to her while she learns about the world, and then she’ll be back for the two of you.”

Both Winchesters looked at you with the saddest puppy eyes you ever saw.

“You think?” asked Sam, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it.

“I think,” you replied with a nod and an encouraging smile.

Both of them squeezed your hand, and then Sam made a comment about heading to bed and left. As his heavy footfalls fell away, you wrapped your arms around Dean’s waist and pressed your cheek against him until his arms encased you again. He kissed your head and then led you towards your bedroom. This time, it was you giving him the passing touches and gentle kisses as you got ready for bed, reassuring him that you were there and always on his side. No matter what, you would do whatever needed to be done to make sure Dean knew he was loved.

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