Hunter's Lullaby: chapter tirtheen
Chapter 13
Hampton Falls, June 20
“Come on, hold my hand.”
“Stop talking to me like I’m retarded.”
“Sorry.”
Dean stepped slowly into the water, jaw clenched and lips reduced to a thin white line. He was shaken by an involuntary shiver as the cold water reached his knees. He tightened his grip on Sam’s hand and stopped, taking a deep breath. His cheeks were red and his too-long hair was drenched in sweat. So was the white tee which was clinging to his body. It was two in the afternoon and the temperature had reached ninety degrees.
“Wanna move forward a bit?”
“Yeah. Okay.”
It had taken Sam some time to figure it out and he knew he was still walking on eggshells. The weather had been particularly hot for the past week and Dean had been miserable, unable to stay under the sun, fighting the swelling of his ankles as the weight he had gained really started to bother him. All in all, he had only put on twenty-two pounds, which was fairly reasonable, but he had to deal with water retention as well. Since the baby had turned, Dean’s uterus had gotten a couple of centimeters lower, releasing the pressure on his stomach and lungs but putting his center of balance further in front of him. He now had the typical walk of an heavily pregnant woman, his back arched and his feet spread wide, one of his hands often resting on the back of his hip to help him keep him balanced. Sam thought it was cute - not that he would ever tell Dean.
Dean had been complaining about the weather (with reason - Sam had been too), drinking a lot, eating less, and having trouble sleeping. He and Sam had tried different things to relieve him and what seemed to work best was having him sit outside away from the sun with his feet in a bucket of cold water.
Then Sam had thought about the lake. The first thing Dean had said was that they didn’t know if the water was clear enough for them to bathe in it. Besides, maybe the bottom of the lake was full of old rusty junk and dead trees and stuff. Sam had bought a home test to analyze the water, which was clean enough, and had circled the lake, wearing old boots to protect his feet. He had been pleasantly surprised to find that the lake’s bottom was, for most of it, covered in sand and water-washed stones. In the deepest part, the water only reached his shoulders and Sam had really enjoyed swimming in the cold, clear water, thinking of all the good it would do Dean.
Still, Dean had refused to go with him, pretending back aches and tiredness and that he’d never liked to swim anyway. But Sam had seen the uneasiness in his eyes and had realized that Dean was scared. Scared because he was becoming slower and clumsier. He felt like his body was betraying him - that much he had told Sam after he had almost fallen down the stairs one evening.
Dean was now in the water up to his hips and was slowly beginning to relax, eyes bright under the sun, his freckles standing out on his reddened skin. Today had been particularly hard on him and Sam had pleaded the lake’s cause until Dean had finally given in, looking embarrassed and irritated and so, so tired Sam had almost regretted his insistence.
He didn’t anymore, feeling Dean’s fingers releasing a bit of pressure against his and looking at his hesitant smile as he finally found some relief from the hot weather.
“Okay, this is awesome.”
“Told you so.”
“Yeah, well, you don’t have to carry a baby while enjoying your swim so shut up.”
Dean let go of Sam’s hand and pushed himself forward, trying for a couple of swim moves, then ducked his head under the water, still moving forward. Sam walked next to him, ready to be there if needed. When Dean awkwardly resurfaced, steadying himself on his feet, he was still smiling, water drops shining on his face.
“Can’t get to the bottom,” he said, spitting some water in Sam’s face. “My belly… it’s like a natural swimming ring.”
Without waiting for Sam’s answer, Dean kicked off to float on his back, slowly moving his feet to remain in a perfectly horizontal position, his baby bump exposed to the sun. Sam couldn’t repress a laugh at that somewhat absurd image.
“Shut up,” Dean said indifferently. “M’not getting out of here till she’s born.”
They stayed at the lake for the better part of the afternoon, walking slowly back to the house afterward. The wind had started to blow, bringing promises of rain and colder weather. Dean started shivering in his wet boxers and t-shirt once they were inside. “Thought I would never feel cold again,” he said, angling his head to be able to look at his feet. “Hey, my ankles actually look like ankles.”
“You should go put on some dry clothes.”
Dean rolled his eyes but disappeared from the kitchen. When he wasn’t back fifteen minutes later, Sam walked upstairs. He wasn’t surprised to find his brother sleeping on top of the comforter, only wearing a pair of thin cotton pants. Sam bit his lips, trying to ignore the desire flowing through him. Again. He and Dean hadn’t done anything even close to sex since Dean’s birth canal had appeared, and Sam hadn’t pushed things. Still, sometimes his need was so overwhelming he had to physically restrain himself from touching Dean.
His brother woke up around seven that evening, looking rested for the first time in a week. He was obviously in a good mood and Sam was confident enough to propose a car ride to an ice cream parlor as soon as the sun set, which Dean accepted as long as he was the one to drive.
Sam didn’t say a word as he watched Dean contorting himself to settle behind the wheel. The Impala was an old car, not really built to accommodate different shapes of drivers. Even with the front seat pushed back as far as it would go, Dean couldn’t possibly be comfortable. Not that he would ever admit it.
The ice-cream parlor had a drive-through service. Dean got this monstrous banana split with extra of everything that was available. Sam, more classic in his tastes, went with a simple strawberry ice cream cone. They drove to a quiet spot in the parking lot under the cover of trees. The rain hadn’t started yet, but thunder could be heard rumbling in the distance.
“I hope this turns out to be the storm of the century. I wish it’d rain until the end of July,” Dean declared around a mouthful.
“Yeah, that’s what we need - a freaking flood.”
Dean shrugged and continued with his food orgasm, accompanied by indecent moans and grunts until nothing was left in his plastic cup. Then he squirmed on his seat and huffed. “Really, Sue? Hiccupping, again? Come on, give your dad a break,” he said, patting his belly.
“You talk to her like that often?”
“Well, I’m stuck home all day long. And it’s stupid, I know”,” Dean added, blushing a bit.
“Not it’s not. It’s cute, actually.”
“Oh for Christ’s sake, Sam,” Dean said, visibly irritated.
A young family, making the way to their car, passed nearby. The father was carrying a toddler sound asleep on his shoulder and the mother had a young baby in a carrier strapped across her chest. The baby was wriggling and crying loudly under the mom’s soft whispers. Sam watched them as they walked by the Impala and tried to imagine what his and Dean’s life would be like six months from now. He turned his head toward his brother and saw that he was probably doing the same thing, expression serious and thoughtful.
And then Sam’s eyes were drawn to Dean’s grey t-shirt and he saw two darker circles, each about the size of a quarter, blooming on his chest.
“Huh. Dean.”
“Wha?” Dean asked distractedly. Then he frowned and looked down at his chest. “Hey, why am I…? Oh. God. I’m freaking leaking, Sam!” he added, sounding completely mortified.
“It’s probably the baby crying. I’ve read that it can trigger the milk ejection reflex.”
“Fuck. Let’s get out of here.” Dean pulled his shirt over his tee to hide the milk spots as best as he could, then turned the key in the ignition.
They drove for all of five minutes before he hissed suddenly.
“What? Dean, what?”
“Nothing, m’fine. It’s just another false contraction.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah. Aw, hell, I feel all sticky and wet.”
“Want me to drive?”
“We’re almost there. I’m fine.”
But Dean didn’t seem fine. He had experienced Braxton-Hicks contractions almost every day for the last two weeks and was starting to get used to them. Rania had given them some tips to ease them. The easiest one was to remain well hydrated - Dean had no trouble following that advice. If he was to have more than one contraction in a short period of time, he had to lie down on his left side until it stopped. So far he’d only had to do that once. Still, he had never had this painful look on his face and this, added to what had just happened at the ice-cream parlor, got Sam worried. At thirty-five weeks, the baby would probably be fine, but still considered a preemie. She would need hospitalization, even if only for a few days.
Sam’s brain was still working frantically when they got home. The thunder was growling and rumbling but there were no signs it would rain any time soon. As Dean slowly got out of the car, he stopped and held onto the Impala’s roof.
“Holy…” he mumbled, putting a hand under his belly.
“Dean? Are you okay?” Sam ran around the car to join him and took his arm. Dean didn’t push him away.
“Yeah, I’m… it… it doesn’t hurt, Sam. It’s just like… contracting harder, I guess? Okay. There. It’s over.”
“Come on. You gotta lie down,” Sam ordered, dragging him toward the house.
Dean shook him off. “Calm down. It wasn’t a real one.”
“Are you sure?”
“No, I’m not sure!” Dean snapped nervously. “How can I be? Never been pregnant before, ya know?”
Dean was close to freaking out and Sam took it upon himself to remain as calm as possible. Inside the house, his brother took his time removing his t-shirt as Sam got him a new one. Then he obediently lay down on his left side on the living-room couch. Sam forbade himself from hovering and sat on a chair nearby, a book opened on his thighs - like he was actually going to be able to read.
“Okay there’s another one,” Dean announced a few minutes later.
“What?” Sam literally jumped off his chair, startling Dean, who gasped.
“What the hell is your problem, dude? You really want me to go into labor tonight?”
“I’m sorry, really, Dean, I am. How bad is it?”
“It’s not bad. There’s just some pressure. And she ain’t moving that much. She usually does around this time of the day.”
“Gonna call Rania.”
Dean rose on his elbow, frowning. “Really? Don’t you wanna wait? It’s only three freaking false contractions.”
“You’re not even sure!”
“Damn it, Sam, don’t yell at me!” Dean yelled back.
“I’m calling Rania,” Sam said, pulling his phone from his pocket and ignoring Dean’s angry glare.
As usual, Rania answered on the first ring. She listened to Sam’s incoherent babbling for less than twenty seconds before she asked to talk to Dean. Huffing in frustration, Sam handed the phone to his brother, who snatched it with way more strength than necessary. The conversation wasn’t long, and all Sam could hear was Dean’s hun-hun, yes, no and okay. He hung up and sat down slowly.
“What? What did she said?”
“She said it may be the beginning of labor.”
“Oh God. She’s gonna be fine, you know. Sue. It’s… At thirty-five weeks the fetus is-”
“Sam. I know that. Rania said that if this was really it, she’d try to stop the contractions with some drug, just to give the baby a little more time. She wants us to bring everything we’ll need like it’s the real deal. And she’s waiting for us.”
“Damn it, I didn’t even pack the bags, yet. Okay… Okay, you stay there and, try to relax or whatever, I’ll make a quick trip upstairs and I’ll be back in five minutes, I swear.”
Dean raised an eyebrow. “Sam, calm down, dude. You’re all red and sweaty. Do you want me to give you a hand or-”
“No! I mean…. No, thanks. Stay on your left side and watch the time if there’s another one, okay.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
Dean was so calm it was almost frustrating. Sam ran upstairs and packed everything he could think of in one of their old duffles until there wasn’t any space left. He flew down the stairs and saw that Dean was sitting on the bench near the door, trying to tie up his shoes.
“What are you doing here? I asked you to-”
“Are we going or not? Come on, help me out. Can’t bend down enough to do this.”
Sam did as he was told, forgetting that he was holding the duffle around his shoulder. Following the movement, it swung down hard, barely missing Dean’s head.
“Fuck, Sam, what the hell?”
“Oh. Sorry. Are you okay?”
Dean rolled his eyes. “Let’s get outta here.”
Sam wanted to hold his arm, for which he received a deadly glare. It lasted for all of half a second, before Dean froze on the last step of the porch and hissed.
“Another one? Dean?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s been like… eight minutes. Come on, we gotta go.”
Sam was already dumping the bag in the backseat when he realized that Dean hadn’t moved from his spot. He ran back to him. “What’s going on? Dean?”
“Kinda hard to walk when your belly is all hard and constricted. Give me a minute, Sam, and for God’s sake, calm down. You’re making me dizzy.”
“Does it hurt, this time?”
“I told you, I don’t know! Would you give me some space and shut up for a second?”
Dean was pale and tense.
Sam knew - he knew - that he was slowly but surely becoming hysterical. Even as he tried to get a hold of himself, searching his head for lists and information and statistics that all gave Sumiko a pretty good chance of being born totally healthy, it was like the words and numbers didn’t mean anything anymore. As he settled himself behind the driver’s seat, keeping quiet to give Dean a breather, his hands were shaking badly and he had sweat dripping in his eyes. The Impala’s tires screamed as they bit the pavement and he pressed on the accelerator while Dean held onto the dashboard.
“Sam, slow down.”
“What?”
“Slow down, you’re gonna crash us. M’serious.”
Dean was. Deadly serious, as far as Sam could tell. He slowed down and apologized.
“They’re probably not even real contractions, Sam.”
“Yeah, you’re right, totally. I bet you that we’ll be back home in a couple of hours, huh?”
Too much enthusiasm, Sam thought. He tried for a reassuring smile and felt like a grinning maniac.
“But ifit is the beginning of labor,” Dean went on, “There’s something I want you to know.”
“Dean, don’t do that.” Sam gave him a long, steady look, hoping that Dean would see the plea in his eyes.
“Look at the road, Sam.”
“Yeah. Sorry.”
“So, as I was saying-”
“Everything’s gonna be fine. There’s nothing to say. You’re gonna be fine, the baby’s gonna be fine. Thirty-five weeks is not even-”
“Will you stop interrupting me, you ass!” Dean snapped. “Fuck, I wanna tell you something and you’re gonna listen to me, alright?”
Sam nodded and braced himself.
“I’m glad,” Dean said, tensed and uneasy. “About what’s happened.”
“Huh?”
“The curse. I know it’s been hell and that I haven’t been easy to deal with and I’m still freaked out about what my body has become, but still. I’m glad my body decided to interpret the curse this way.”
“Oh.”
“I don’t regret it. Guess that’s what I’m trying to say. Whatever happens, I don’t regret it. It’s fucked up and… we barely know what we’re doing… I mean, what are we gonna do after she’s born and how are we gonna explain her presence to the people we know? We’ve barely talked about it, havn’t make any decisions, and it’s freaking scary. M’not even sure I’m gonna be good enough of a dad for her.
“Dean-”
“Still. I’m glad. I wouldn’t trade places with anyone else right now. That’s it, m’done. You can go on with your freakout.”
Sam had at least a dozen things he wanted to say to Dean, but didn’t get the chance because his brother tensed once more.
“Another one?”
“Yep.”
“Do you need-”
“Keep your hands on the wheel for Christ’s sake!”
::: :::
Dean fell asleep around ten, the baby monitor still strapped around his belly. He’d had his last contraction as Rania was settling him on the examination table for a gynecological exam, more than an hour ago. Sam had decided to stay with him, even if the view of Dean’s legs spread, his feet trapped in the stirrups, was a bit disturbing. He kept his eyes on Dean’s face and held his hand. To his surprise, Dean had pressed it back in return.
The cervix had remained completely closed and there were no signs that it was actually working to start expanding. After that, Rania had installed the baby monitor, a small round sensor that could measure the baby’s heartbeat as well as the mother’s, and the strength of the contractions. There hadn’t been a single one, and the heartbeat had remained steady.
“It was just Braxton-Hicks contractions?” Dean had asked.
“Probably, yeah, but there’s no way to tell. I wanna keep you here a couple of hours just to make sure.”
As relief had swamped Sam, Dean had blushed, looking awkward. “I knew it wasn’t the real deal. I’m sorry we bothered you for this, Rania.”
“Shut up, don’t be stupid,” Rania had said severely. “This isn’t a game, Dean. You better call every time something like this happens. You’re a pregnant man and I’ll be alone to deliver the baby. We can’t take risks, so stop saying dumb things, please.”
She had looked almost angry and Dean, visibly impressed, had nodded obediently. Rania was still a mystery to Sam, but he had no doubt she was the best thing that had happened to them after the curse.
Now, he and Rania sat at her desk and drank a beer in a comfortable silence while Dean snored loudly. The rain had started to fall half an hour back and the thunder was deafening as lighting strikes flashed into the room almost constantly. Even from inside, Sam could tell that the temperature outside had cooled down.
“So, I’m pretty satisfied with your brother’s physical exam,” Rania stated as she went through her notes. “I didn’t tell him because he hates when I talk about the V word but the birth canal has gained another couple of centimeters. It’s pretty close to what you would find on a woman.”
“Oh. Good.”
“Yes. You did the right thing, bringing him here, Sam. I want Dean to tell me everything that’s going on, okay?”
“I’ll make sure of it.”
“And maybe you could try to be a little less stressed with all of this.”
Sam lowered his eyes, feeling shame warming his face. “I did get a bit hysterical.”
“I wouldn’t say that,” Rania smiled. “You were nervous, which is completely normal, but it affects your brother, that, I can tell. Earlier, each time you asked a question or raised your voice, I could see Dean’s heartbeat accelerating. You guys are so close. He’s very sensitive to your state of mind. And I know, Sam, that he won’t say it or express his own fear because he just can’t. He relies on you to keep him together.”
Sam couldn’t repress a laugh. He swallowed a gulp of beer and brushed his hair out of his face, feeling nervous and fidgety. “So strange, hearing you saying that. It’s always been the other way around, ya know? I’m the little brother. Our father brainwashed Dean at a very young age with all his ‘watch out for your brother, Dean’ crap until Dean started acting like he himself wasn’t worth someone looking out for.”
Rania looked at him from under a long curly strand of hair. She seemed younger, sweeter like that. “Well I guess it’s your job to prove him wrong. But I’m not really good as a relationship counselor so…” She waved her hand dismissively and drank from her beer bottle.
“I don’t know about that, but you’re doing one hell of a job as a supernatural obstetrician.”
“It’s always easier to understand what women - and in this case, your brother - are going through when you’ve been through it yourself. When my daughter was born, I-”
Rania froze in shock, mouth wide open, as the color drained from her face. Sam saw tears pooling in her eyes as they reflected pain and sorrow.
“I didn’t know you had a daughter,” Sam said, because he couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“I don’t,” Rania said abruptly. “Not in this life anyway. It just slipped. I’m sorry, Sam.”
She kept looking at him, nonetheless, like she was waiting for Sam to ask for an explanation. Maybe she did want to talk about it.
“Is it about the Djinn?” he questioned tentatively.
“Yeah, what else?”
“Dean was attacked by a Djinn a couple of years ago. It took him some time to get better and come to terms with what he’d seen.
“Took me a year. Sometimes I think I’ll never make my peace with it.”
“I found him less than two days after he had disappeared. Somehow he had realized, in the Djinn’s wish world, what was happening to him and he made the decision to come back. Maybe that’s why he had less difficulty letting it go.”
“I was almost dead when Carter saved me. I’d been captive for five days, but in the Djinn’s world, it seemed like many years had gone by. I had wished my family was still alive and they were. I mean… We’d all immigrated here together and I was so goddamn happy. The confusion I felt at the beginning disappeared, and it was like my real life had been nothing but a strange nightmare. I studied to become a lawyer, met a man… everything. I mean, I remember the smell of his after-shave, the way he would smile at me. I remember the trouble we had conceiving our first child, Samar, our daughter. And then we had a son. Salim. It was my life, you know? I was sleeping and cooking and working and raising my kids and… I was so, so angry when I finally had to accept that it had all been a dream. Took me a long time.”
“It must have been hard.”
“It still is,” Rania rasped, wiping the tears pooling in her eyes. “I can’t have them back because they never existed, but all of that - a career and a family, a loving husband… all of that, I’m not interested in it anymore, because I already had it.”
That explained so much, so many aspects of Rania’s cold approach and character, and her apparently lonely, well-ordered life. Sam was still trying to find the right thing to say when the young woman stood up, taking the two empty bottles with her.
“I have some paperwork to do. Call me if anything happens.”
::: :::
It was almost midnight when Sam and Dean finally got back on the road, under a still raging thunderstorm. Rania had prescribed Dean a lot of rest and to avoid any tiring or physically demanding activities. She had also advised him to avoid salty food and beverages, because he was still plagued to a high degree by water retention. She also told him to sleep whenever he could. “That goes for you too, Sam. A newborn does not have the same sleep patterns as you and I so you’ll need all your energy to take care of your daughter.”
Dean was quiet. Despite the rain, he had opened his window and was looking at the night, one hand resting on his belly. Sam was quiet too, thinking about Rania’s imaginary life and the strangeness of the reality they were living in. After a while, Dean cleared his throat and turned toward him. “So.”
“So what?”
“I don’t know, Sammy, you look tense.”
“Listen, Dean. This… tonight, this was like a rehearsal of the real thing.”
“Huh. Yeah, I guess.”
“Let’s say… I’m not so proud of my performance.”
“Oh, come on, Sam. Why do you have to think everything through?”
“I was supposed to be the calm and reasonable one, to reassure and support you and…”
Dean mumbled that he wasn’t a freaking girl. Sam ignored him.
“And I had all this planned in my head, you know? But the first thing I did was freak out and worry you, then I pissed you off, then I drove too fast and then I was a bundle of nerves, hovering around Rania and asking way too many questions. I opened the duffle I packed before we left, and guess what?”
“What?”
“I didn’t put any diapers in the bag, but I did pack all the freaking jumpsuits and the five baby hats. And I didn’t bring anything for you, not even a change of clothes. But - and I don’t know how it got there, I swear - there were four pairs of socks - my socks, by the way.”
Sam wasn’t even finished with his sentence before Dean was laughing out loud, head tilted backwards. He actually had to blink tears of hilarity from the corners of his eyes.
“Yeah, that’s stupid,” he agreed finally, still snorting. “But hey, Sam, it’s kind of reassuring, in a way.”
“Reassuring? That I apparently became an idiot the second I thought you were in labor?”
Dean turned to look at him, an affectionate, soft smile tugging at his lips, and that was an expression Sam rarely saw on his face. “No, you dork. Since the beginning of all this, you’ve been like in full-geek mode 24/7, reciting those goddamn books you must know by heart by now. Seeing you like this tonight, not acting like a walking encyclopedia but as a normal human being, it kind of made me realize that I’m not the only one totally messed up by this.”
“You’re not. I mean, yeah, okay, maybe you’re a little messed up - anybody in your position would be. But you are ready, Dean. I could see it in your eyes, on your face. You’re ready for this to happen and I’m not.”
“Well. I suppose, being pregnant and all, that it’s easier for me. It’s with me all the time, you know? I can barely think of anything else. The hormones are making me ready.”
“Anyway. I need to be prepared. I need to feel ready.”
Dean snorted. “Try carrying a twenty-pound bowling ball around for a whole day. Bet you’ll feel ready after that.”
Sam smiled, then started to make new lists in his head.
::: :::
The next two weeks went by quietly, almost peacefully. Sam had reduced his working hours at the bookstore to spend more time at home. As the due date got closer, he didn’t like to leave Dean alone for long periods of time. If anything happened, it wasn’t like his brother could ask for anybody’s help. The people Sam worked with all thought his mysterious, never-seen brother suffered from an even more mysterious illness, as Sam had needed to take time off quite regularly ever since he’d been hired. It wasn’t as if he’d said anything to mislead them, but this vagueness worked perfectly for him.
Dean couldn’t do much, and even his macho pride slowly disappeared because he just couldn’t keep it up anymore. He was exhausted and clumsy, needed Sam’s help more and more often. The very act of getting up was becoming a challenge, as he had to work with the weight of his belly and do strange gymnastics to keep his balance. He walked very slowly, held onto the banister to go up and down the stairs, and was constantly short of breath. Although their swimming sessions were good for him, he had to give them up because the lake was too far and the path leading to it uneven and slippery at some points.
The only position he was comfortable enough to sleep in was on his left side with a pillow stuck between his legs. Even then, he wasn’t able to sleep more than three or four hours at a time, and more often than not, Sam would find him asleep on the couch in the morning, half sitting up, covered with the Impala’s old blanket.
All of those things should have made him grumpy and short-tempered, but Dean seemed to accept it with philosophy. Even if he did try again and again to tie his shoes by himself when he knew he wouldn’t be able to do it. Why he continued to pretend, Sam didn’t know. And if a backrub felt great and eased Dean’s pain, he didn’t deny himself the pleasure just because it belonged in the touchy-feely category of Things Dean Winchester Doesn’t Do.
He was different. He would rub his belly more often, even in Sam’s presence, like he didn’t even notice he was doing it. And he seemed more withdrawn, focused on something Sam couldn’t be part of. Sam had read in some books that it happened sometimes during the last trimester: the mother-to-be would feel the need to focus all of her energy on herself and her unborn child. It was part hormonal, part psychological, sometimes so strong that the father would feel excluded, even jealous. Sam wasn’t. He was fascinated by the changes Dean was going through. One evening, Sam had found his brother in the guest room on the first floor where all of Sumiko’s clothes and stuff had been put away. Dean had been sitting on the bed, looking at the pajamas one by one before folding them back, eyes far away and dreamy.
The first couple of days in July were particularly hot and hard on Dean. He was throwing up at least twice a day, could barely keep any solid food down and had to rely on Jell-O and orange popsicles. The fourth of July brought a soft, warm rain. It was still hot but manageable. Sam and Dean spent the day destroying zombies on the PSP and watching a Buffy marathon. That evening, they heard the fireworks far away in the cloudy sky and celebrated by sitting on the porch in the still hot, humid night, eating ice cream and fresh watermelon. It had been a good day. Sam would always remember it.
::: :::
Hampton Falls, July 5
Sam woke up early to the sound of the rain falling against the roof and on the trees. They had left the window open when they had gone to bed last night and a cool wind was blowing through the light curtains.
Unsurprisingly, Dean wasn’t in bed with him. Sam found him sitting on the porch wrapped in the Impala’s blanket. He was watching the falling rain peacefully, enjoying the fresh air. His eyes were clear in the morning light, despite the dark circles underneath them.
“Hey,” Sam greeted, sitting next to him.
“Hey.”
“Did you get any sleep?”
“Yeah, a couple of hours,” Dean said, voice a bit gruff.
“How’s your back?”
“Not bad.”
Sam bent down and pressed a kiss on the top of Dean’s head. “M’gonna make some breakfast. What do you feel like?”
“Fruit. And maybe a coffee?”
“A coffee?”
“Well,” Dean said defensively, “you told me one cup was okay and I don’t know, I feel like it.”
“No, it’s okay. It’s totally okay. Just surprised me, that’s all.”
“Help me up?” Dean asked, presenting his hand to Sam.
“Yeah.”
Dean didn’t even pretend anymore that he didn’t need Sam’s help. He let his brother pull him up, groaning as he tried to balance the weight of his belly by arching his back. “God, can’t wait for her to get out,” he sighed.
“Just a couple more weeks.”
“Yeah well, feels like a freaking eternity to me.”
While Sam was cutting oranges and pears, Dean made one of his numerous trips to the bathroom. When he came back, he was frowning and looking uneasy.
“Don’t freak out, okay?”
Sam dropped his knife. “Dean, if you don’t want me to freak out, don’t start your sentence with ‘don’t freak out’.”
“Think I lost this thing that’s supposed to block the uterus’s entrance.”
“What, the mucus plug?”
“Yeah.”
“Can I see?”
“No! I flushed it down the toilet. Dude, it’s just some slimy red thing. It’s disgusting.”
Sam tried very hard to remain calm. “You know what Rania said about that? It’s a sign that the labor is coming but can sometimes happen a week - even two - before it actually starts.”
“Yeah. I know.”
“But still, I’ll call her.”
“I was sure you would say that.”
Sam was already in the living room, looking for his cell. Rania confirmed what he had just said, but asked him to watch Dean closely. There was no need for them to come for an exam.
Sam hung up and called the bookstore where he was supposed to work from nine to five, and took the day off. Dean watched him from the living room, a cup of coffee in his hands, looking slightly irritated.
“I can watch over myself, you know.”
“I know.”
But Dean didn’t protest more than that and Sam thought he could see a flash of relief in his tired eyes. After breakfast, which he barely touched, Dean went to take a shower and Sam took the opportunity to go through the duffle he had refilled when they had gotten back from Rania’s two weeks ago. That time, he had made a list, and he had placed the packed bag strategically in the closet near the entry. He checked everything once more, then went to their room to look at the crib.
The baby would sleep in their room. There hadn’t even been a discussion about it. The small mattress was in place, covered with a thick light green baby blanket. Sam picked up the small stuffed elephant that was sitting in a corner of the crib and smiled. He had chosen it himself - even Dean had admitted that it was (kind of) cute.
Sam went downstairs to start a thorough house cleaning. If Dean was to go into labor today, or tomorrow, Sam wanted the house to be clean when they got back home. He was sorting the clean dishes in the cupboards when he heard a noise upstairs and went to check on his brother.
Dean was sitting on the edge of the bed, hair still wet from the shower, his maternity jeans on. He was in the middle of putting on a t-shirt with slow, tired motions. His belly was tense, looking more imposing without any clothes to cover it. Even though Dean’s appetite had been less than great for the last couple of weeks, he had still gained three more pounds, practically all in his belly.
Before Dean had the chance to pass the tee over his head, Sam saw a couple of thick yellowish drops sliding from his nipples. He decided, cleverly, to keep his mouth shut.
When Dean had finally succeeded in dressing himself, he stood still, eyes glassy, and yawned.
“Hey, why don’t you lie down and try to sleep a bit.”
“Are you out of your mind? Do you have any idea how much effort it took just to get dressed?”
Sam sat behind him on the bed and started massaging his shoulders. Dean moaned in contentment. “I’ll help you undress. Come one, Dean, you look exhausted.”
To Sam’s surprise, Dean nodded and arranged himself on the bed, lifting his hips to let his brother pull down his jeans. He twisted to the side as Sam pulled the comforter over the both of them. They settled side by side, spooning, with Sam being the big spoon as Dean couldn’t do it anymore even if he’d wanted to.
“So, comfortable?”
“Not bad,” Dean mumbled, and yawned again.
Sam put his hand over the swell of his belly - which Dean allowed more and more often as his due date got closer. He rubbed it a bit, sliding his hand down until it was below his brother’s hips, and was surprised to feel Dean’s length curled upward against his stomach, hard and barely constricted in his boxers. Dean hissed. “Sam, don’t. Please.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. There’s this pressure that won’t go away.”
“Did you try to… you know, jerk off?”
“Kinda hard to find a comfortable position to do it,” Dean said awkwardly. “And huh… it hurts.”
“Want me to do it?”
“Sam, we’ve talked about this. I don’t want you anywhere near my… thing. Don’t like it.”
“I get it, Dean,” Sam said softly. “But I don’t need to go anywhere near your v… your thing. We don’t even have to move. Let me use the lube and I’ll just lower the waistband of your boxers in the front, and then jerk you off, what do you say?”
Sam wasn’t even thinking about sex while making his proposal. Dean did seem pretty uncomfortable, and an orgasm would probably put him to sleep for at least a couple of hours. When Dean didn’t answer, Sam took the lubricant from the nightstand drawer and resumed his position, lowering the sheets to expose Dean’s crotch.
“Let me do this, okay?” he asked again, pulling the boxers down under Dean’s swollen, engorged balls. Dean shivered and groaned in discomfort when Sam’s hand brushed against the tip of his shaft, almost purple and covered with precome.
“Go slow, okay?”
“Yeah.”
Sam slicked his hand and warmed up the gel before closing it gently over Dean’s cock.
“Fuck, it hurts,” Dean moaned, but lay very still. “Sam, I need…”
“S’okay. I got you.”
Sam started a very slow motion, careful not to put any pressure near the head. After a moment, he felt Dean’s tension ebbing away and risked a soft brush of his thumb over the tip of his cock. Dean cried and buried his face into the pillow, his entire body shaking with need. Sam accelerated the motion, kissing his brother’s neck and mumbling nonsense in his ear as his other hand rubbed his back.
“M’close, please, Sam,” Dean sobbed into the pillow, starting to move his hips in sync with Sam’s hand.
“Yeah, that’s it, Dean. Getting there. Gonna feel so good after that,” Sam hushed, adding a twisting motion each time he reached the head.
Dean’s back arched suddenly, and then he was coming, panting and groaning as Sam coaxed him through his orgasm without letting go. He only stopped when he felt his brother’s length softening, although the shivers that were coursing through his body took a long time to subside.
“There,” Sam said, valiantly ignoring his own aching need. “Better?”
“Ngff,” Dean answered as he slowly got his breath under control.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
Sam got up to fetch a warm washcloth from the bathroom. When he came back, Dean hadn’t moved a bit and his eyelids were already getting heavier. He let Sam wash him, blinking lazily, then pulled his boxers back up.
“M’leaking again,” he said almost indifferently, and Sam saw new wet spots growing on the t-shirt he was still wearing.
“Want me to get you another tee?”
“No. M’too tired to move.”
Sam settled a pillow between Dean’s legs and pulled the blankets over him as his brother let sleep take a hold of him.
“You know I love you, right?” Sam whispered, looking at Dean’s relaxed face.
“You adore me,” Dean corrected in a slurry voice, and Sam smiled.
Dean slept for three hours straight.
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