#Either I forgot about that specific bit from the script or I hadn't seen it til now but I need to lay down.

[quinngefail]

Well gamers it's time for me to wind down for the night. Got something nice and light to read for the occasion :)

Bedtime story <3

.............

He can't handle this alone. He needs his calm, collected Doctor, no matter how badly Lawrence has treated him.

...I'M GONNA FUCKING THROW UP, DUDE

GOOD NIGHT. WHATEVER

[wasabito]

had so much fun writing for my baby boy tendou, so here’s my entry for the hqhq sfw server collab! be sure to check out the rest on the masterlist found here! enjoy ✨

words: 3.0k

prompt: “you woke me up at 3am for this?”

synopsis: your neighbor is ridiculous, kind of annoying and little bit on the weird side, but you wouldn’t have him any other way.

You had to be the biggest idiot on the planet—an obvious exaggeration, yes, but you were still inclined to believe it was true. 

How else could you explain the feeling of being so utterly fed up with one’s actions like this? Were there enough words in the dictionary to describe just how exhausted you were by your own antics, more specifically, your forgetfulness since that’s what had landed you in a world of pain and embarrassment?

The answer was no.

You sat with your back pressed against your front door, head in your hands and chin tucked between your raised knees and chest. At your side was your wallet along with stacks of newspapers, coupons and whatever else had been stuffed in your mailbox, bills probably. Advertisements too. Honestly, it was hard to be happy about a new restaurant opening up down the block when you were currently stuck��locked out of your apartment to be precise.

The landlord of your cheap little complex wasn’t expected to be back for another hour according to the sign posted outside of his office. So until then, you’d remain posted up by your doorstep like some loiterer. 

You shifted in place and blew a puff of air from your lips, feeling little pinpricks in your legs. For the fifth time in the last forty-five minutes you felt like kicking yourself, hard.

The sun hung low, nearly touching the distant horizon signifying the end of another day. Even the sky was painted a warm umber, casting dim shadows.

“Locked out, huh?” came a snide, but accented voice.

It took you way longer than necessary to realize that suddenly you weren’t the only person on this floor. God, where was your head at?

A pair of forest green crocs stood before you, complete with a few odd charms and trinkets. A cartoon volleyball, pinned next to a smiley face, a donut and a gaudy “i heart paris” chain dangling from the ankle strap. A person’s shoes could say a lot about who they were...your mother thought so, at least.

Resisting the urge to projectile vomit all over this stranger’s rather questionable taste in footwear, your wary gaze panned upward, glossing over white tube socks and a pair of the longest legs you’ve ever seen on a person—yet another exaggeration. You came face to face with a crooked smile. Curious ruby eyes returned your stare with almost the same amount of scrutiny.

Who the hell was this guy?

Mystery-man easily towered over you, and not only because you were hunched over and sitting. He was tall as hell, all lanky build, gangly arms and legs disguising lithe muscle and a surprisingly sturdy frame. He looked like the i-run-every-morning type; semi-athletic at the very least. His buzzed hair was the color of cinnamon, no that wasn’t right, paprika maybe? Either way, it contrasted sharply with the paleness of his skin, so much so that you could see the faint blue of the veins in his arms.

“Yoohooo, anybody hooome?” He tilted his head at you.

“Huh? Oh uh, yeah, I’m locked out. I forgot my key inside and Mr. Laurent won’t be back until later.”

“Hmm. That sucks...”

“...Um… do I… do I know you or something? You look a little familiar.”

He pinned you with a funny look, before pulling out a set of keys from the back pocket of his shorts.

“Maybe you do, maybe you don’t~ I mean we are neighbors, after all.” Laughing as if he’d made some sort of joke, he entered his apartment with a twirl and a dramatic wave of his arms.

You stared at his door for a solid minute, only to finally succumb to your urges and facepalm at your own idiocy. Of course he looked familiar, how could he not when he literally lived four feet away.

With a sigh of resignation, you braced yourself for another hour spent sitting outside your front door. It wasn’t like there was any other place you could go or anyone you could call. The battery icon on your phone blinked red, warning that it was soon to run out of juice. Guess that meant no Among Us or Subway Surfer for you.

Five minutes later, the door next to you opened. It was Mystery-man again, but this time, he sat in front of his door, just like you were. And he did so with a bag of pretzels and a jar of nutella in hand.

“Must be bored out here by yourself.” He crunched on a pretzel before offering you the bag to take some. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep ya company.”

You weren’t sure why, but there was something about this guy that intrigued you. You half-wondered if it was the funny little curl of his smile, or the wideness of his eyes that made it seem like he was looking at all of you, all at once. 

"You must be pretty bored...uh,"

"Satori Tendou, but most people call me Tendou. Miracle boy works just fine too."

"Right... Tendou, as I was saying, you must be incredibly bored to come sit out here with me. You sure you don't have anything important to do?"

Tendou's grinned widened. "Positive! And it costs me nothing to be neighborly, so don't even sweat it."

That was...nice of him?

If sitting outside with you was the way he wanted to spend his late Tuesday afternoon who were you to deny him? And truthfully, you didn't mind the company, at least not really. Provided this guy wasn't some creepy-stalker-weirdo, you were sure there wasn't any harm in getting to know the person who lived one door over.

"So, Tendou, how long have you lived in the area? You don't really look like you're from around here...I could be wrong."

Tendou raised a thin brow at you. "Weeeell, if you're asking about how long I've lived next door, it would be about three maybe four months give or take, but if you're asking how long I've lived in Paris, it would be a year next month. Speaking of, I think Semisemi has a birthday coming up..."

You watched as he pulled out his cell phone and tapped away at the illuminated glass screen. You couldn't help but notice the goofy little anime stickers on his phone case. One in particular caught your attention.

“Is that...Kirara? From Inuyasha??”

“Oho! So, you recognize this?”

Backtracking, you mumble out, “Ah, well…only a little.” Though your face was turned away, the tiny smile on your lips was not hidden from Tendou and he thought you were pretty cute.

Funnily enough, what you had expected to be a rather unnerving and possibly creepy exchange turned out to be anything but. Tendou was incredibly fun to talk to—a bit teasing and a little overwhelming with his superfluous hand movements and gestures. But he was funny and a lot kinder that you would’ve given him credit for.

You learned that he was originally from Japan; it explained his accented French. He had come to Paris right out of high school to study culinary arts in one of the most renowned countries for it. Now he worked as a chocolatier, under the tutelage of a master patisserie in the city, an older man who was both a creative genius and a thorn in Tendou’s side. Tendou spoke of his teacher with equal parts awe and annoyance. 

And he got to know you too. How you’d found yourself in Paris, thousands of miles away from home in an effort to rediscover yourself in the city full of rich history and culture. 

You didn’t have many friends here, and it truly was a pleasure to make his acquaintance.

Soon, you both heard the telltale sound of jangling keys as your landlord rounded the corner with his clipboard in hand. Once you were able to get your door open, you waved a goodbye to Tendou.

“Thanks for keeping me company, you really didn’t have to.”

“No biggie, it was fun!” He threw a mischievous little grin and a peace-sign over his shoulder and reentered his apartment. 

You found yourself wanting to cross paths with him again, and hopefully in better circumstances. But you hadn't known your wishful thinking was soon to manifest as you ambled through grocery store aisles a week later, eyeing down any items with pictures on it.

“Why in the hell is this toilet paper so expensive.” You mumbled.

“So, you complain about the price of toilet paper, but wear sneakers that cost two-thirds our rent.” That voice sounded familiar, and after hearing it for about an hour just days ago, you were a bit surprised you could recognize it so quickly. 

Stunned, you looked up to find Satori Tendou, your quirky neighbor with an arm full of pita chips, a milk carton, and baby carrots.

“I never said I made the best choices.” You found yourself smiling despite the previous crease in your brow. “...Dude, get a cart before you drop everything.”

Instead of getting his own, he simply dumped what he had into your cart with a teasing grin. You couldn’t argue with his logic there. Tendou sidled up against you, once again towering over you with a kind of ease that should be criminal. “Need help reading something?”

You wanted to say no. You almost said no. But swallowing your pride, you gave a weak nod. “Yeah, this word right here.” Pointing to the unfamiliar script printed on the label. “What the heck is this?”

“Weeeeell, looks like that brand is scented, ya know, for when ya—”

“Don’t bother finishing that sentence...please.”

You quickly grab what you need and continue on down the aisle with Tendou following closely behind.

Just like when you’d first met him, he made conversation the entire way. By the time you both made it to the cash registers, you’d argued at least three times over french pronunciations and whether cashews were the cousin of peanuts.

And just as last time, he left you with a grin and a peace-sign while you stared after his retreating back, paid groceries in hand.

After an entire day spent baking, you found yourself on Tendou’s doorstep with a tupperware full of baked goodies later the next evening. You had been meaning to thank him for being such a good neighbor to you. It was certainly unexpected, but a welcome gesture nonetheless.

You only had to knock twice before the door was wrenched open and you were greeted with the set of...vanilla? Some pop song played in the background while your neighbor looked at you curiously.

"H-Hey Tendou, I um...I baked you these." You held out the plastic container, hoping he'd simply take it from you without question and you could return to your apartment without somehow embarrassing yourself. "There's a little bit of everything in there, oatmeal raisin, chocolate chip, macadamia nut—wait you aren't allergic to anything, right?"

"Nooope! Not a thing, thanks neighbor!"

"It was no problem, especially since you've helped me, not once but twice now."

Frowning, you couldn't help but be a little upset with yourself. You'd come to France to prove that you could, in fact, live a normal life outside of your family’s jurisdiction but day by day you were proving to need them more and more. 

It was disappointing, to say the least.

"Hmm, what’s with the constipated look on your face. Did the toilet paper not help?” Tendou tilted his head at you with a teasing grin, lips curled at the edges, taunting. You blinked up at him, surprised, and if you were honest, a little annoyed too. 

"Hah?!"

"Just thought it was worth a mention, nighty-night~!"

Tendou proceeded to shut the door on you; one hand rested on the frame and the other held on to the cookies. You quickly took a step back lest he chop your entire arm off, ready to trudge off in the direction of your own home but not before sticking your tongue out at him.

Stupid Tendou, always saying stupid shit. 

You were on the couch, half asleep when it dawned on you that it had been his own twisted, “Tendou” way of cheering you up. 

The rest of the month passed just like that. Occasionally, you would bump into Tendou at the grocery store, or the leasing office, or even the laundromat. And every single time, he’d either make you laugh until your sides hurt or annoyed enough to want to give him a friendly punch. At one point, you two had even exchanged phone numbers, because according to Tendou “it was ridiculous not to have your friends on speedial” which only led to hours spent on Facetime or playing iMessage games.

You knew exchanging numbers would come back to bite you in the ass, it was only a matter of when.

It was clear you weren’t going to any sleep tonight, that was for sure. The incessant buzzing of your cell phone every five minutes was an enemy to your circadian rhythm. You could name on one hand those in your contacts with enough sense to know that you lived in a completely different time zone from them now.

Somehow your neighbor was the very last person you suspected, but it was his contact photo that stared back at you, goofy looking grin and all. You squinted against the brightness of your screen in your otherwise dark bedroom.

you up?

come quick

gotta show ya somethin

come oooon

you're awake, i know you are

It took you less than a minute to shuffle on a pair of slippers, grab your keys (you weren't going to forget them this time) and slip out of your apartment.

You hadn't even knocked twice before the door was pulled open. Tendou looked a mess, more so than usual. Unidentified stains littered the apron looped around his thin waist, streaks of what you hoped were just flour and granulated sugar were all over his hands. You almost wanted to ask if he was baking or dealing dope.

“You woke me up at three in the morning...for this?”

“Yuuup!”

"When I said you could call me at any time, I really didn’t mean any time.” You scratch your side, a contemplative look on your face at the sight of Tendou in what you would assume to be his pajamas. An old volleyball hoodie with the words "Shirazorizawa" printed across the front, and old sweats the were so obviously cut with scissors at the knee.

Rolling your eyes, you mumbled a curt, “Alright, move aside.”

Tendou ushered you over to his kitchen where several of his cooking supplies laid on the island, along with a tray of some chocolate dessert spread.

“It’s all still in the testing phase, but I think I’m onto something here.”

He was definitely giving off “mad scientist” vibes. You tried not to snort.

Holding a small chocolate cake in his hand, he smiled, a genuine smile this time. "Open wide."

You obeyed, far too tired to argue, and let him pop the treat into your mouth. Tendou watched as you chewed, as if it were the most interesting thing ever. His wide gaze carefully took in every shift in your expression.

"So? Whaddya think?"

"I...," You chewed a bit more. "...It's delicious! Is that—"

"—Pistachio, why yes it is!" 

Tendou was practically bouncing on his feet with excitement. "It takes the entire thing to a whole new level."

You had to agree with him there. This was probably the best chocolate madeleine you'd ever tasted. "Great work, miracle boy. Will you be introducing this new recipe to Claude?"

Mentioning his teacher seemed to sober him up a bit. "Ehh, maybe? The old man's a bit of traditionalist, so I'll just have to figure out a way to get him to approve."

"Maybe try calling him at three in the morning?" 

Tendou stuck his tongue out at you before popping a dessert in his mouth. The pure delight on his face was so contagious, you found yourself smiling just the same. You couldn’t help but admire his passion.

“Hey, Tendou… do you like your job?”

He blinked at you, chewing coming to a slow halt. “Well of course! The pay isn’t the best just yet, but it’s a labor of love. I’m willing to put my all into it at least.”

“Huh… that’s pretty cool.” You wiped your fingers on a nearby rag. “I hope to feel the same one day… if I can figure out what I wanna do.”

“Why not bake? You’re pretty good at it.”

“Oh am I? Last week you said my baking needed some work.”

“Well, duh, but my standards when it comes to confectionaries are impossibly high. Even so, I think you’d be successful as a baker. What’s stopping you from pursuing your labor of love?”

And that was the thing with Tendou. He talked a lot, teased even more, but it was never idle ramblings. Somehow, he always seemed to hit right at the heart of the issue with almost painfully uncomfortable accuracy.

“I don’t really know so…” You looked away, trailing off.

“Either way,” he said and placed a finger under your chin, raising your head until you were looking him in the eye. “I’m rooting for you.”

For a moment, you simply stared, awestruck. It was the first time in a long while someone was actually putting their faith in you, believing in you. He had come blazing into your life unabashed with his easy grins and gaze alight with mischief. His encouraging words, sincerity, sensitivity. Tendou was really incredible.

“Tendou…” You took his hand in yours, squeezing it. “Thanks. For everything.”

“Of course, what are neighbors for.”

BONUS:

Three months later you sat curled up next to Tendou on his sofa, his entire apartment smelled of chocolate cocoa with hints of cinnamon.

Before you was an application. Culinary school.

“You really think I can do this?”

Tendou placed his head on your shoulder with a tiny smirk. “One hundred and twenty percent!”

You pondered for a moment, then decided that if he thought you were up for the challenge then you’d believe him.

“For the record, you probably aren’t supposed to recommend your girlfriend for an interview. You know, conflict of interest and all.”

Tendou laughed and pulled you closer. “Trust me, we’ll be fine, so don’t worry your pretty little head, ‘kay?”

[seenashwrite]

do we know anything about john winchester's parents, besides Henry? Do you have any speculation as to why the boys were named after Mary's parents? We learn from Henry that he hadn't abandoned young John. Thanks to Abaddon. But I need more!

Ah, an autopsy. Everybody gown up. Grab the rib spreader. This is gonna be a good one. Characters like Millie are my most favorite when it comes to writing in the vein of “based on…” and “adapted by…” because we have little information on them, meaning we can fill in those cracks ourselves, but at the same time? In this case, at least? The little bit we’ve got on Millie holds a lot.

Brief disclaimer: I am of the opinion that the writers (excepting Kripke, who was playing the long game with a five-year plan) aren’t doing as much foreshadowing and employing other sneaky-tricksy, deep-seated literary gambits as I’ve noted more than a few viewers assert; it seems to me that the writers backtrack and use past plot points (broadly, that is - evidence has shown us that, on the whole, they aren’t precise canon adherents) to bolster present/immediate-future arcs. However, it gives us the opportunity to expound upon the more minute things/characters they’ve forgotten about and/or left to languish.

Let’s do a list of knowns vs. unknowns about The Mysterious Mrs. Winchester, because the former’s more important than the latter when getting our brains on task for an adaptation/based-upon piece, a.k.a. fanfiction. I have used her as a pivotal player (in the backstory) for my big story, so minus some specific lines I just pulled from a script, the following is coming from my (canon-based) notes. You have come to the right person #humbly #not really #Millie’s my jam 

Check this out.

Millie has only come up twice in the show, most recently on Lady Antonia “Brain-Diddle” Bevell’s grossly incomplete mood board, then in a flashback during a conversation between Henry and Josie. Watch your step for that turd of exposition dump up top:

Catch that? 

Item #1: Millie is aware of Henry’s job / The MoLs

Perhaps she’s even met Josie - decent speculation, Josie is her husband’s partner, at least for now, in the context of their novice/initiate status, and Josie felt comfortable referring to Millie by name to Henry, vs. saying “Your wife is lucky to have you.”

To what degree is Millie in-the-know? Specifically, is she aware of the paranormal bend of it all? That’s a crack we can fill. She could very well be under the impression this is some sort of niche government division.

I vote “no”. I think Henry would’ve said, “Except she doesn’t know, Josie. She doesn’t know what we deal with, how dangerous the work can be. All she’d know is that she’s become a widow….”

A little sidebar to bolster my claims of her being in the know - whether Henry had, in the past, started tip-toeing down the road of cluing in John on his work is unknown, but he sure as shit was starting to edge there based on the whole “What’s that pin mean” - “You’ll find out” exchange. Now, Henry’s smart, and smart people know that telling your offspring to keep things secret from the other parent is a dumbass move, from beans to beanstalks, and particularly when they’re in mouthy toddler beansprout stage, that crew can’t keep anything secret, it ain’t how they’re wired.

So Millie knows, and I think Millie knows about the bumps in the night. I think she knows Henry’s father and grandfather were members. And she knows that means John’s on deck. And she knows that’s bad news. Here’s why.

Item #2: Millie & John move from Illinois

Henry went missing in ‘58, we’ve no idea when when she moved. Was she from Illinois? Did she move alone? Did she have family somewhere? Did she go there first? Did she go straight to Kansas? Why did she end up in Kansas? Nobody knows. We’ve zero knowledge of anything in this area. Plot away.

But we do have the knowledge she got herself and her son the hell outta Dodge. She left friends. Took John away from his friends. Left the house she shared with her husband. Again: did she lose the house? Did she not have a skill set that would’ve = decent employment? Do the MoLs not have some sort of killed-in-the-line-of-duty spousal/family payout? Was it a crappy one? Got me.

Point is, single motherhood is tough now, much less the further back in time you go. It’s possible she did just fine on her own.

But let’s talk probable.

Item #3: Millie remarried & put down roots in Kansas

When we meet adult John, a random in town tells him “Say hello to your old man for me.” 

[glances around] 

Cool.

Now, the writers - when they had to do the whole MoL thing in order to get us to the bunker so there was a stable set piece for consistency or budget or whatever - absolutely forgot this one-off comment that was made in the infancy of the show, guaranteed, hundred percent, no way I’m wrong. Same goes for the one-off “comes from a family of mechanics” line that some fans glom onto. 

These are canon misfires that piddled into the ocean, never tore through the hull of another ship, and are No Big Deal. [yes I know the difference between cannon and canon, I’m being cheeky, nobody “@” me] Upshot is, we get to stick it into the Millie file. Make stepdad a mechanic. Boom. Done.

In any event, I use the phrase “puts down roots” because this is where John returned to when he left the service, got a job as a mechanic, ultimately started dating this chick named Mary, so this was home. We can reasonably assume, then, that he’d lived there for most of his life, given how young he was when he signed up for the service*.

[* Note: I state vs. suggest because I have extensive character autopsies done on both John and Mary; I’ve covered a bit of my Mary diagnoses elsewhere; just letting y'all know it’s why I tend to state things about them vs. quantify it with “My impression is…”, etc., because I’ve got a decently robust pile of evidence to support my statements; J & M aren’t the topic here, though]

I actually like the misfire line about mechanics, and I like saying that stepdad is a mechanic, because it tracks with items #1-4 above, and gives us…

Item #5: Millie didn’t want John to be in the Men of Letters and made critical life choices to prevent such

Two points for this item:

—> She went from being the wife of an academic professional involved with covert ops to being the wife of a mechanic

This isn’t impossible or strange or noteworthy in-and-of itself. I’m not saying it is, not shitting on blue collar workers or persons who specialize in a trade vs. those on a scholarly track. I don’t mean to infer that Millie - as a single mom in the early ‘60s - lowered her standards or something, that she was desperate for a husband and took what she could get; on the contrary, based on how important knowledge and order was to Henry, how he looked down his nose at what he found to be the pedestrian lifestyle/life choices of hunters, I’d assert that Millie was quite intelligent and perhaps even “upper-crust”.

But that sharp turn, regardless of the impetus, does go to our Millie profile. It’s just interesting, that flip of her switch, especially when you combine it with the move from her established life with a young child.

—> She never told John the truth about Henry’s disappearance

Why? Why would you do that to your kid? Why would you allow him to have the impression - and the heartache from - believing he was abandoned?

Because - what trumps everything (or should) for a parent?

Protecting your kid.

The Namesake Question

Real answer: the characters didn’t exist at the time the show’s skeleton was being assembled.

Moving on to the answer(s) we can divine based on canon…

First obvious answer, on the Millie front, is they had two boys. Yeah, yeah, could’ve been “Miller” or her maiden name or something, and we don’t know their middle names, etc. Knock it out, throw it in as a plot point. And true, it’s not like they went with, say, Henry and Sam. The Dean character could’ve pulled off the nickname “Hank”, admittedly difficult as it is to imagine from our current vantage point. So, you’re right - it’s a thing. 

Again, I’ve long had autopsies done on John and Mary, adding to them over seasons 11-13 (when I started watching in real time), and those are lengthy, winding roads that do branch off of the Millie highway, but aren’t the topic here. Just a reminder that all the things I’m presenting below in a factual tone, I’ve got evidence to back it up.

Based on John and Mary’s behavior, their choices, their parenting styles, we can paint a pretty clear picture in our minds of their childhoods. For John, we’ve covered the broad sweeps of his to the extent we can by way of examining Millie. For Mary, we have more, and have seen her parents and their behavior, their choices, their parenting style. I don’t see the Campbells as putting family first above all (they put the mission first - sound like anyone else we know?), whereas Henry has been shown to love his wife and son more than anything, so had John been exposed to him? Wow. We probably wouldn’t recognize him.

But as it stands, John doesn’t have an instinctual reaction to put family above everything else. Neither does Mary, as we’ve since learned. Dean does, vehemently, and as Sam matured, his instinct has changed to be this way, as well. It happens - some of us, either purposefully or unintentionally, end up replicating our childhoods for our children; others, like Dean and Sam, strive to do the opposite. Even siblings growing up in the same environment can go different directions - it’s a crap shoot to a degree, whether when, upon leaving the house, you go out the front door or the back.

So while I don’t see that Mary was particularly close to Deanna and Samuel, I do find there’s enough to support that John wasn’t close at all to Millie. Absence of evidence does not = proof, true, so the lack of him talking about his mother alone doesn’t exactly make a solid case. Having said that, there’s multiple reasons (again-again, that’s for another time) based on solid evidence (i/e, John’s actions/decisions), which have me leaning towards he and his mother being anywhere from distant to estranged, not covering that list, but one that’s germane to our current topic is this:

When John got busy investigating Mary’s death - or letting folks assume he was working through his grief by ditching his business and checking out on being a father - he left Dean and Sam with Mike and Kate Guenther while he was off drinking and researching, perhaps others (and yes, Bobby later, but I’m talking about initially, in their hometown) if the Guenthers were unable, and who knows who all if he left for days at a time.

So why did John and Dean and Sam not ever stay with Millie? Why were Dean and Sam not left with their grandmother? She was right there.

Well, the answer is that the writers didn’t think of Henry (and by extension, Millie) til seasons later, but for us, it’s a crack that could be filled, a nice deep one, too. 

Three possibilities:

(1) Millie had died prior(2) Millie and John were not close, possibly estranged(3) Millie did help watch after Dean and Sam

Numbers 1 and 2 are plausible, and it actually could be both. Could also spin it to where Millie was dead, stepfather was alive (we have evidence of that, see above, RE: rando dude’s “Say hi to your old man for me”) and John wasn’t comfortable leaving Dean and Sam with him, or there was some reason the stepdad was unable to take care of them, or maybe John loved stepdad dearly and would have stayed with him/left the kids with him, but stepdad had died or remarried or moved away before Dean was born. Fill in that blank yourself.

I don’t find number 3 very probable, as it’s not mentioned in John’s journal. He specifically mentions Mike and Kate several times. He even mentions Missouri meeting Dean and Sam, how they really took to her immediately. He would’ve mentioned Millie.

I say all that to say, the lack of naming one of the boys after Henry is of note, but not mysterious for me because John was under the impression that his father ditched him and his mother. And, um...

.

INT. DINER – DAY

We see a close-up of a black-and-white photograph of HENRY holding a baseball with his arm around a young boy holding a bat. HENRY is sitting at a table holding the photograph. DEAN and SAM are standing at the counter.

SAM Driver's license says he's Henry Winchester from Normal, Illinois. He knows Dad's birthday, the exact place where he was born. Dude, that's our grandfather.

DEAN I'm just saying before we break out the warm and toasties, let's not forget that, uh, H.G. Wells over there left Dad high and dry when he was a kid.

SAM But maybe he didn't run out on Dad – I mean, not on purpose. Maybe he time-traveled here and, I don't know, got stuck.

DEAN Yeah, well, either way, Dad hated the son of a bitch.

.

So name-wise for the Winchester side? Miller, Mills, a maiden name - I can see something as a namesake for Millie still being plausible as one of their middle names; a Henry namesake never had a chance in hell. 

And despite neither John nor Mary behaving as if they truly buy into the whole FAMILY IS EVERYTHING stance, Samuel and Deanna died a horrible death, and not far away - it happened when both John and Mary were in the mix, Mary specifically. I don’t see her having to push very hard to get John on board with naming their kids after her parents following a shared traumatic experience.

Alrighty, then.

We can send some samples off to the lab, I hear the Stynes run a really thorough one not too far from here, but I’m pretty satisfied - pass me the sutures, time to tag and bag.

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That was gross, I’m so apologizing. 

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[whispers] I’m totes not. 😏

Hello, person who has read this far! See HERE for how to make an appointment with Dr. Nash.