Familial Relations chp3 - SN fic - R
Title: Familial Relations
Chapter: III. Crystalline
Fandom: "Supernatural"
Disclaimer: I only own the ones I thought up. I wrote this only because the “Familial Relations” universe has taken over me.
Warnings: spoilers for the pilot
Pairings: Mary/John
Rating: R
Wordcount: 6120
Point of view: third
Notes: My knowledge of geography(including that of my own country) leaves much to be desired.
Chapter I: " Rapture"
Chapter II: "Bloodcall"
Forgive me my sins; I knew not what I did.
Forgive me my sins; I never meant this.
-
Mary thought nothing of the first dream. Or the second, or the third. She’d had serial dreams before, and repeats-her mother had called it a gift, and her elder sister, Cassandra, a curse. It seemed a simple enough dream: the forest, the shadow chasing her, the dark voice whispering Welcome, daughter on the wind.
Twenty times across twenty years, the first when she was only seven years old. She talked with Momma on her eighth birthday, learned of the inheritance humming in her blood.
“We are seeresses, daughter,” Momma told her, a strong, gentle hand resting on her back. “My own mother foretold of disasters, her sister of fortunes. It passes from generation to generation, growing ever stronger.” Momma kissed her brow, traced her jaw with a finger. “And you, my dearest darling, little Maralyn-you are the strongest yet.”
Mary, only eight, could not fully comprehend the import her mother’s words had on her future. It was only when she first beheld John Winchester, more than ten years later, that she understood.
-
Cassandra helped Maralyn become Mary on her seventeenth birthday. “I can’t stay here anymore,” she’d whispered hoarsely in the night, wrapped in Cass’ embrace. “Please-help me escape.”
She hated learning to read the future, to peer into people’s souls and know their deepest secrets. She hated memorizing the history, repeating it to her mother’s satisfaction. She hated that she was kept from other children, kept from fully knowing the world-and all because of a gift/curse in her blood.
She hated her mother for everything she was never given the chance to have. She hated her mother’s expectations, her mother’s demands. She hated that everyone in the family, from the elders to the cousins to Daddy, gave in to Momma without a fight.
Cass smoothed her hair down, kissed her temple. “I’ll help you leave, Lyn,” she murmured. “You don’t belong here-not yet.”
The only future blocked from Mary’s sight was her own. “Tell me, Cass,” she begged. “What is it that happens?”
Cassandra’s arms tightened and she buried her face in Mary’s golden hair. “I can’t tell you,” she whispered, eyes full of grief. “I’m so, so sorry, Lyn.”
-
She snuck out of that life under the warm rays of the sun. Cassandra had sent Momma and Daddy away on a fool’s errand; Kenneth, their elder brother, was wrapped up in familial duties on the East Coast. Only Cass and Mary were home that day-until Mary left.
“Goodbye, little sister,” Cass said, lightly kissing Mary’s lips. Her hair-dark as the midnight sky-wreathed around her, wild and untamable. Her cat green eyes were solemn and proud. “Never look back, Lyn. Never. This is not the life for you.”
“You’ll keep them from finding me?” Mary asked, seeking reassurance. “You really think I can do this?”
“Maralyn,” Cassandra told her, reaching out to hold her face with strong, sure hands, meeting Mary’s hazel eyes, “if you wanted, you could command the stars. Anything you desire is yours for the taking. If you deny your gift, it will deny you, fade away-no longer will it torment you so.” She kissed Mary’s forehead and pulled her close, whispered into her skin, “But you will not be able to reclaim it.”
Mary shuddered against her and sniffed back tears before pulling away. “I don’t want it, Cass. I never have.”
Cassandra smiled. “I know that, Mara-Mary. You are too bright for us.” She gripped Mary’s hand hard and said, “Now, go on. Get. The world lies in front of you, ripe for the picking.”
With one more hug and kiss, Mary was gone.
It was years before she looked back with regret.
-
Her life was hard, at first; she had no experience in the real world. Sometimes, she felt her family’s eyes peering for her, but Cassandra shielded her.
She dreamt of the world that was a few times; memories played in her head, wove themselves on the air in front of her. Gentle, sweet dreams, sent from Cass, Mary knew. Dreams sent to show her that Cass took care of her still, always would.
You were not meant for our life, little sister, Cassandra’s voice whispered in her mind; she smiled as a soft kiss was placed on her forehead. You were meant for other things; I have seen your children, two beautiful boys. Two beautiful sons who are crafted to shine a light the world has never known. I have seen them, Lyn, Mary-turn your back now on our curse and you are free to be with your children.
-
Mary was twenty. In her dream, she stood before a canyon, an abyss deep and dark. A shadow flickered into existence; harshly, it smiled and laughed.
Welcome, daughter, a voice boomed across the dreamscape. Why now have you summoned me?
Looking upon the shadow, Mary now knew why hated using her gifts of the curse. I deny you, she responded. I want nothing more to do with anything in which you play a part.
The shadow laughed again. You are mine, Maralyn Victoria Roanoke. Mine unto the day you die, and then forever after. And your children, as it is your blood that will flow through their veins, will be mine from the moment you conceive them. This is the agreement your ancestress made, all those centuries ago The shadow deepened and flowed closer; Mary barely kept the tears from springing to her eyes.
Do not weep, daughter. The shadow’s voice was almost gentle, almost loving. Your sons will be glorious creatures. And I will make a deal with you now for their lives.
I don’t deal with the devil, Mary hissed, angry at the insinuation.
Laughter boomed, beating at her. I am not the devil, darling. I cannot make that claim and Milord would be annoyed with me if I did. The voice turned musing and the shadow drifted ever closer. But your blood-one of your heirs-will meet the Dark in all Its glory. Ah, I can barely await the day
Finally, the shadow reached her and a tendril stretched out, lightly caressed her cheek. Make the deal with me, love, It whispered, and she shuddered.
No, she answered, pulling back. Never.
I will take your son on his sixth-month birthday and make him mine, Maralyn. Unless you, here and now, make provisions for me.
Anger shot through her, bright and sharp. Do not threaten me, demon, she snarled, pulling close all her learning, all her powers.
At her back, she felt a light-I am here, little sister, Cassandra murmured. I stand with you, against all.
Cass, she asked, what do I do?
That, I cannot tell you. This is your path. All I can do is help you walk after the choice is made.
You are the most powerful of all Roanoke. Until now, yours is the light that shone brightest. But your seed, your sons-they are what we really desire, what we have looked for through the years. You can protect them both until they are old enough to make the choice… or, daughter, I can take them when they are too young to know The demon touched her again, allowed Its tendrils to seep under her skin.
She beat It back with a sharp light and It hissed.
Choose, seeress. Choose now. I offer you this deal only once.
She had been ready to turn her back on all that being Roanoke entailed, to cut out that part of herself once and for all, to be done with it forever after-
Choose!
And she woke with a shouted curse, bit off in the final syllable. “Cassandra?” she whispered.
The deep, dark voice saturated her room. As you wish, darling Maralyn, so shall it be. Until your sons are old enough, I will let them be.
-
John sauntered into her life when she was twenty-one. She was a waitress in a small diner right off the Atlantic, on Florida’s peninsula. She attended a nearby college, one class a week, and had a second job at a small store.
She wasn’t happy, not like she’d expected, but neither was she caged. Mary was free from the family, free from that part of her life. Momma and Daddy’s grip was shaken from her-she could look at people and see only their faces, not their secrets, not their thoughts. And that was a wonderful feeling. Until she met John, she thought it was the greatest feeling in the world.
Her back was to the door when he came in. But she felt something, some flash through her. Welcome, a part of her whispered and she turned.
He sat at a table, alone and staring out the window. His hair was dark and short, his body strong; she watched him for a moment, just watched him breathe. She hurried over, smiled at him, asked what he wanted to drink.
“Water,” he answered without looking. She delivered him his beverage and he ordered the house special-a ham sandwich with French fries, then a sundae for dessert-still without looking.
All the way until dessert, she watched him. Studied him. He felt familiar, more like home than home ever had. He seemed world-weary and worn, rundown and tired. Almost as though he’d given up on life, decided he was done with the pain of living.
Easily, she could look into him, see the truth. So, so easily. She hadn’t since the night the demon-shadow spoke to her, forced Its devil-deal upon her. Had refused, though the power still danced at her fingertips and the knowledge hovered in the back of her mind, behind every thought she had.
But she just smiled in his direction, brought him the check, and he never looked at her. Even back with her family, she had never been ignored. Someone always noticed her, registered her presence: the youngest daughter, assuredly the most powerful child, could not be overlooked. After she left the family, people still noticed her; but she waved it off, ignored their attention, and they soon forgot just how beautiful she was. Her presence.
And yet-this man did not notice her. He saw right past her.
She watched him walk out of the diner; in the doorway, he paused. Glanced back. She met his eyes and he smiled.
He came back the next day, and the day after, and every day for a week. He always sat at roughly the same table and spoke only to give his order, which, too, was the same. He rarely looked at her.
But finally he did. Ten days after she first saw him, he met her eyes straight on and said, “I’m John. John Winchester.”
She smiled down at him and lied, “Mary Calmis.”
When he asked her on a date, she said yes without pause.
-
She suppressed the desire to read him, to know him. Being near him kindled a fire in her soul long since strangled. He whispered to her, all unknowing.
A year to the day, she knew. Mary had found the one being who completed her; now that she had him, she would never let him go.
After their first time, she lay in his arms and felt safe. Felt that nothing could ever go wrong, ever hurt her again.
When she slept, she dreamt of a forest. A young woman with long blond hair ran through it, sobbing and gasping for air. Mary never saw her face but she heard the dark voice say, I knew you would come back, daughter. My seed always do.
-
She married John in the spring. The sun beamed down, warming her, and a light breeze played with her hair. Cassandra was there, and a few friends she’d made. Cass’ belly swelled with child; a daughter, she said. A beautiful girl she’d name Joanna Marian.
“What does Momma say?” Mary asked, sipping her glass of champagne. John sat on one side and Cass on the other. She’d explained some of her history to him, but not everything. Not nearly enough.
Cassandra nearly smiled. “She doesn’t approve,” Cass murmured. “But she’s already lost one daughter. She won’t do anything that might make it two.”
Mary leaned forward, wrapped her arms around Cass’ shoulders. “I’m sorry I left you there alone,” she mumbled into Cassandra’s neck. “I didn’t even think-”
“Shh,” Cass whispered, tangling her fingers in Mary’s hair and softly kissing her. “Little sister, you had to leave. I never once blamed you.”
John reached out, lightly touched Mary’s back; she pulled away from her sister and curled into him.
For the first time in years, Mary called to Cass. What do you see of my future?
She raised her eyes to meet Cass’ gaze and Cassandra smiled. I see two beautiful sons.
-
Mary had nowhere to be, nothing to do-so long as she was with John, she was happy. They spent a year in that little town, living off their meager salaries before John said, “Let’s travel.”
First, they headed north, along the coast. They lived out of the car, a gorgeous Impala John loved almost as much as her, when they had to, to save money. Then they headed west, hugging the border, seeing the sights. The country lay wide open before them, welcoming. For two years they wandered, never settling. Mary loved it.
But finally, she knew that John wanted a home, a place to put down roots. She had no idea where that might be, what he was searching for; but then, as she lay in his arms one night, she heard a murmur in the recesses of her mind.
Sister… Maralyn. Oh, silly girl.
She stiffened and then curled deeper into John. Kenneth, she replied. How…
Hush, darling. I’ve not let on to our parents where you are. What you have become. I merely wished to look in on you.
Mary reached out tentatively and he responded with warmth. I am not your enemy, little sister. I never have been. You did not need to abandon me, as well.
How is Cassandra? And her daughter? Mary had tried contacting Cass but been unable to. And she’d been so caught up with John…
Both are well. Mother has attempted claiming the girl, but Cassandra fights tooth and nail. The Elders think Joanna is better off with Cass and Mother hasn’t the strength to defeat their will.
Mary sighed and John shifted, tightened his grip on her. Are you happy? she hesitantly asked him.
No. But I am content to stay where I am. There is a war coming, Maralyn. A grave, terrible war. Our family is in the middle. You were the strongest, but now your light has waned. You had your choice and you made it, leaving everyone in the dark. His tone was not accusing, but she heard the residual anger in the words.
A demon spoke to me, she said. In a dream. It called me daughter and said It would take my sons.
Deals were made long before our existence. You know that. It is where our gifts stem from. We cannot escape the calling in our blood.
No, she denied. No, Kenneth. I won’t-
You will. In the end, we all do.
With rancor, she shoved him away and buried her face in John’s neck, tears pooling in her eyes.
I am sorry, Maralyn, dear sister. You can hide away and deny your gifts, defy our mother’s will, our ancestress’ words. You can lie with that man and bear his sons, but those children will be more yours than his. And it will be our blood in their veins, our blood It will seek out. If you return, the family can protect you, claim them long before It does.
She said the words aloud, murmured them into John’s skin. “I will never go back.”
Goodbye then, Maralyn. Become Mary Winchester. Turn your back and burn.
Mary fell asleep with tears on her face.
-
John found Lawrence, Kansas, but it was Mary who picked out the house. They’d lived there for three months, John had found work as a mechanic, and Mary had made many friends in the neighborhood when she told him she was pregnant.
She could feel the gentle light emanating from the boy in her womb. His soul shone brighter even than hers had and she knew the family felt him, too. Slowly, over the course of her pregnancy, she saw members, cousins and elders, wandering through the town, seeking her out, merely to watch. She never spoke to any of them.
But one day as she shopped, eight months along, a woman settled in her path. She was a few years younger than Mary and looked similar to Cassandra, with long dark hair and a worn expression her face. Something whispered on the air.
“Hey,” the woman said. “I’m Ellen. Cassandra sent me.”
Dread filtered through Mary and in her womb, her son kicked. “Is she alright?” Mary’s voice was barely there, and she knew.
Ellen’s face softened and she stepped closer, reached out to touch Mary’s shoulder. “No,” Ellen answered gently, shaking her head. “No, she’s not.”
Mary closed her eyes. Inside she shrieked and screamed, howled her fury; outwardly, she remained frozen, calm and icy. The air shimmered around her and pressure built; “What happened?” she asked, voice hollow, opening her eyes and staring at the floor.
“There was an attack-demons, I think. She was able to save Joanna, but not herself.” Ellen shifted closer, lowering her voice. “Her last moment, she called me, told me I had to come see you, tell you, offer-anything.” Mary raised her head, met Ellen’s dark green eyes. “She didn’t trust anyone else in the family but you.”
“You have Joanna,” Mary breathed.
“Yes.”
-
Mary had never seen her niece before. She hadn’t seen Cassandra since her wedding, almost four years.
Joanna had black hair and brown eyes, was a beautiful little girl. She looked so much like Cassandra it almost hurt Mary to gaze upon her.
Ellen sat down on the hotel room’s one bed and pulled the three-year-old into her lap, said, “This is your Aunt Mary. You can’t remember her, but she loves you very much.”
Joanna watched Mary with large, solemn eyes. “What’re you gonna name him?”
“Dean,” she replied softly, forcing away the tears. “Dean Jonathon.”
Her niece nodded and wiggled out of Ellen’s grip, padded over to Mary. “It’ll be okay, Aunt Mary,” Joanna told her. “Mommy promised.”
Mary couldn’t stave off the tears anymore and pulled Joanna to her, pressed her face into the soft, dark hair. “I know she did,” she whispered. “She promised me, too.”
-
Mary stayed until Joanna fell asleep. “Where are you taking her?” she asked, carding her fingers through the girl’s hair. She sat on the edge of the bed, Joanna curled up in the middle. Ellen was stretched out on the other side.
“I’ve found a family in Jackson, Mississippi. They’re good folk, been wanting a daughter for a long time. She won’t remember her grandparents, or any of the rest of the Roanoke,” Ellen assured her. “And I’ll keep tabs on her. She’ll be fine.”
“Who are you?” Mary looked away from her niece, met Ellen’s eyes again. “Cassandra trusted you, I can see that. But I have no knowledge of you at all.”
“You could,” Ellen responded. “Very easily, you could spread open my mind, walk through me at your leisure.”
“I could,” Mary acknowledged with a small nod. “But I won’t. I swore I would never use it again.”
Ellen chuckled and nodded. “You’ll regret that. You shouldn’t make an oath that, in the end, you cannot keep.”
“Who are you?” Mary repeated.
Ellen sat up. “My father is James Roanoke. My mother is dead.” She glanced from Mary to Joanna and almost smiled. “I am the youngest Roanoke of our generation, but it doesn’t matter. I can only receive, not command.”
Sister? Mary sent out and Ellen replied, “Yes.”
-
When she got home that night, Mary couldn’t sleep. Ellen had said she’d be leaving just after dawn, taking Joanna to her new life, away from all the Roanoke drama.
“The family will look for her,” Mary said.
“No,” Ellen responded. “They won’t. Joanna Marian Roanoke died with her mother. This is Joanna Evelyn Bell.”
“Alright,” Mary said. “Take care of her.”
Ellen’s smile was dangerous, razor-edged. “I will, Mary. I swear. So long as I have the ability to breathe, she will be safe.”
Mary kissed Joanna, who still slept deeply, and hugged Ellen goodbye.
-
John asked her what was wrong, but she couldn’t say. He knew nothing of her past, what she had been-what she still could be.
One by one, the dark voice whispered, they fall at my feet. You are no different. Daughter-there is no escape.
She squeezed her eyes shut but tears still trickled out, slid down her cheeks. She held in the sob as long as she could, yet it exploded out of her in a rush. John woke instantly, fighting, and then, “Mary?”
She hadn’t the words, just wept, broken and breaking, screaming for her sister to come tell her everything would be fine in the morning.
John wrapped his arms around her gently and murmured things she couldn’t understand, couldn’t hear over her blood rushing and her soul begging Cassandra to be alive.
And when she at last surrendered Morpheus, it was to the feel of lips on her brow. She couldn’t tell, though, if it was John’s kiss, or Cassandra’s.
-
Dean entered the world laughing near the end of January. He charmed everyone he encountered, from the doctors to nurses to passersby. He had Mary’s eyes and she could stare into them for hours.
She spent one night in the hospital after Dean’s birth. It had been easy, quick, safe; the doctor told her it was the best birth he’d attended in his career.
Mary felt her mother’s presence the instant her mother breathed Lawrence air. Two elders came with her, one from each side of the family, and her father.
John slept beside her and Dean in her arms. He shifted, wrinkled his face, then opened his huge hazel eyes. He smiled and she felt calm descend on her.
Momma and Daddy could try taking her son from her, as they’d tried taking Joanna. The end result would be the same. She hadn’t been Maralyn Roanoke in almost a decade, but she had never truly escaped. She never could. The power danced at her fingertips and the knowledge hovered in her mind.
Oh, daughter, the demon murmured with a laugh, I knew you were there inside.
Dean cooed and the demon retreated with a snarl.
No, she replied, tossing her refusal into the abyss and sealing the door with fire, I am not your daughter. I am Mary Winchester.
As her mother set foot in the door, the demon called back with a chuckle, Liar. Mine always prove true in the end.
-
In the seven years since she left, her mother had aged a lifetime. Still almost preternaturally beautiful, Momma’s golden hair was long and full, and her eyes sapphire blue. But her face had wrinkled, sagged. Ilina Roanoke had lost hold of the family and it showed.
But she came flanked on either side by elders, so the family would not let her go far. Daddy stood behind them, towering by nearly a full head.
“Welcome, Mother,” Mary said regally, and at her voice, John stirred.
“Maralyn,” Momma replied with a nod. “You remember Aunt Carolyn and Uncle Charles?”
Mary flicked her eyes to each, acknowledging them, then raised her gaze to Daddy. “Father.”
John sat up in one graceful movement and took in the situation. He reached out to encircle her with one arm, supporting her, but he let her play it out.
“John,” she said, “these are my parents, James and Ilina Calmis, and my Aunt Carolyn and Uncle Charles.”
“Hello,” John said with a nod. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” His voice was polite and kind, welcoming; but Mary felt how tense he was, his arm around her. She knew they felt it, too.
Momma’s smile was icy. “I’m sure that it is,” she replied. “But we’ve come for her, and the boy. They shall return with us.”
Rage flooded through Mary. “No,” she answered. “I’m staying with John, in Lawrence. This is home, Mother, but I know you can’t understand that. You never could.”
Momma’s eyes narrowed and she stepped forward.
“Ilina, our daughter has chosen.” Daddy’s voice snapped through the room, sharp and biting. “She made the choice when she left, seven years ago. I have come to welcome my grandson into the world. If you cannot respect and abide by Mary’s decision, then you may wait for us outside.” The elders parted and allowed Daddy to pass between them; Momma whirled around to face him.
She was only five and a half feet tall; Daddy stood well over six foot. She looked like a porcelain angel, but he was tanned dark with black hair. Mary had never seen them disagree before, much less look at each other with loathing.
“She is my daughter,” Momma hissed. “You know how it must be.”
“I know how it was,” Daddy rumbled. “But Cassandra is dead and her daughter with her. Mary is beyond us, Ilina. Her choice is made and cannot be undone. If we leave her be, she is safe. I have come to give the Ro-Calmis blessing and be done with it.”
Mary leaned back against John and he brought his other arm around her front, placed a gentle hand on Dean. He was completely lost, but Mary knew-if Daddy gave his blessing, then his side of the family would defend Mary’s choice to the end. Aunt Carolyn caught Mary’s eyes and smiled; Daddy’s side was behind her decision. She relaxed slightly and returned her attention to her parents’ silent battle of wills.
Finally, Momma subsided. She smoothly turned and stepped forward, padded over to Mary’s side of the bed. She reached out for Dean and Mary met her eyes straight on.
If you do anything, Mother, anything at all, I will end you here and now.
Momma’s eyes widened for a moment and then she nodded. Mary handed Dean over and Momma took him with a sigh. “Beautiful,” she murmured. “He is the most beautiful child in the world.” She looked up, past Mary at John. “Take care of this boy, Winchester. Keep him safe.”
“I intend to,” John told her.
Momma nodded and Daddy came up next to her, gently plucked Dean from her arms. “Mary,” he asked, “what have you named your son?”
“Dean Jonathan,” she answered.
“Dean Jonathan Winchester,” Daddy said, “you have my blessing, no matter what you do in the end.” He kissed Dean’s brow and then returned him to Mary. “As do you, daughter,” he whispered and kissed her forehead, too.
A few heartbeats later, all four of them were gone and Mary collapsed into John. Dean laughed.
-
Three weeks home from the hospital and Mary still couldn’t let Dean out of her sight, petrified her mother would come back for him, steal him away into life as a Roanoke. John never quizzed her about her family, never demanded answers. He just let her know, in his stoic way, that, come hell or high water, he would not leave her side.
And for that, though she had thought it impossible, she loved him all the more.
-
Cassandra ghosted through her dream, hair wild and flowing behind her, green eyes shining with warmth and hope. “If you know Its name, little sister,” Cassandra murmured, “you can defeat It.”
Mary could only hold out her hands, reaching for Cassandra, but Cass moved beyond her reach. “Not yet, Maralyn,” she murmured. “The time has not yet come for me to lead you home.”
Cassandra faded from sight and Mary stood alone in the clearing that had haunted her for seventeen years. She turned a circle, white dress billowing around her, and finally faced the man who appeared.
Tall, though not quite as tall as John. Dark blond hair, shorn close. A beat up leather jacket she’d have sworn was John’s. Golden amulet hanging from his neck that she knew was hidden away in her house.
“Dean,” she whispered and he smiled.
“If you can remember Its name,” he told her, moving closer, “It will have no hold on you.”
“No,” she replied, shaking her head. “I’m sworn to It.”
“You’re gonna give in so easily?” he asked, nearly laughing. “What sorta example is that?”
“What’s the point of fighting if it’s useless?” she shot back, wondering where the words came from.
“Because,” he said, stretching out a hand to touch her face, tracing her jaw and pulling her to him. He wrapped his arms around her, held her tight, buried his face in her hair. “Because, Momma. You may not have the strength, but us? We who are coming? We do. And if you fight…” His grip tightened on her and she felt him shudder, heard the tears in his voice. “You can buy us time, Mom. We’ll need time.”
“What’s the name?” she asked into his chest, burrowing closer.
“You know,” he responded, raising a hand to cradle her skull. “It’s hidden deep in your mind. You’ll have to search, suss it out-but you will.”
She pulled back and he let her. She lifted her head, met his huge hazel eyes. “I won’t know you, will I?” she asked, forcing back the tears. “I won’t have the chance to watch you grow.”
He leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “We’ll meet,” he promised. “And then we’ll have eternity, all of us.”
She lunged to him, grabbing for one final hug, because she felt consciousness approaching, but he blinked out of existence and she was alone in the clearing.
Mary woke sobbing.
-
Dean was a delightful baby. Everyone said so. He laughed often and rarely cried, could calm her and John both with just a smile. She could sit and hold him for hours, listen to him breathe.
She remembered the man from her dream, the man her son would grow into. Momma had been right-he would become beautiful.
Mary could just hold him to her breast, rock him, and consider crying for the man she’d never know. But instead she danced around the house, spinning till he laughed, filling the world with his joy.
-
Dean had been an easy pregnancy, even after Mary learned of Cassandra. Sam was not so.
The family came around again, just as they had for her firstborn, and they stayed in the shadows again. Mary ignored them, shopping with Dean who tried helping but often got in the way. He did everything with a smile, energetically, happily. Everyone who met him fell in love, found themselves wrapped around his finger.
Mary was often exhausted while she carried Sam, exhausted and aching. A weight settled on her soul, in her bones. She could feel the end drawing close.
She curled into John’s embrace as long as her body let her; being near him was a balm to her spirit.
The gifts she’d long denied, long ignored, sprang forth in abundance, giving her visions of almost everyone she saw. She couldn’t turn it off or turn away.
Dean, too, acted differently. He leapt at the idea of being a big brother, drew pictures for his little brother or sister, asked her every morning if today was the day.
May first, at eight o’ clock in the evening, Mary knew the time had come. Dean was dropped off at a neighbor’s house and John hurried to the hospital. Dean had been the easiest birth possible, but Sam-Mary winced and begged John to drive faster.
-
Dean loved his little brother. John led him into the room, where Mary held her secondborn, and Dean padded over, peered up. John took Sam from her and knelt next to Dean, showed him the baby.
“What’s his name?” Dean asked, eyes wide as he watched Sam sleep.
“Samuel James,” Mary answered, smiling.
Dean reached out and softly touched Sam’s cheek. “He’s so soft,” Dean whispered and looked up at John. “Can I hold ‘im, Daddy?”
John nodded. He stood and handed Sam to Mary before picking up Dean and setting him in the chair. “You have to be real gentle, okay, Dean? And you have to support his head.”
Dean nodded earnestly. “I’ll be careful, promise.” Mary passed Sam back to John, weeping inside. To think, soon she’d no longer have this-her boys.
John tucked Sam into Dean’s arms, positioning his hands properly. “You’ll take real good care of him, won’t you?” John said, ruffling Dean’s hair.
Without looking away from Sam’s sleeping face, Dean nodded. And for an instant, Mary saw the man he’d become-the beautiful, dangerous, protective warrior.
You could have saved them that, Maralyn, the demon laughed in her head. All it took was a single word.
No, she replied, slapping It back into the abyss. This is how I’ve saved them.
John stepped back and leaned down to kiss her. “I love you,” he murmured against her lips.
She raised her hand to cup his cheek. “I love you,” she answered. “All three of you.” She sniffed back tears, but a few leaked from her eyes. “My boys.”
-
Mary spent a week in the hospital recovering from Sam’s hard labor. Sam spent most of the time with her; she fought tooth and nail every time he was taken out of her sight.
Being near him calmed her; despite the different powers she could feel warring within him, the light shone brighter. And whenever Dean was nearby, any time Dean touched him-oh, yes, whatever deal the demon had made with her ancestress, it ended here. With her boys.
-
Three months after Sam was born, Mary ran through the forest in her dream. She was running toward something wildly, careening out of control, and knowledge danced just out of her reach.
You know the name, Cassandra’s voice whispered. You just need to find it.
C’mon, Mom, Dean called. We need the time.
And Sam’s innocent, baby laughter filled the forest.
Mary had never been so deep inside herself before, not even when she refused to deal with the demon. She headed deeper.
And then she was back at the abyss. Seeking something? Its dark voice hissed.
She stared out over the canyon, reaching with her soul-It beat at her, shoved her away, but she stood strong.
And one word threaded through the air to her ear. She woke with a gasp and a smile.
-
Mary put Sam to bed and then went downstairs to get Dean. He was watching TV and she leaned over to pick him. He was getting big, almost too big to carry. “Let’s say goodnight to your brother,” she said and put him down. He hurried over to Sam’s crib and leaned over the side, kissed Sam’s forehead.
“Goodnight, love,” Mary whispered and pressed her lips to Sam’s skin for the final time.
-
She did not say goodnight to Dean.
When Mary lay down in her bed, John was still watching TV.
And when she woke up to check on Sam, she knew.
-
I know your name, Mary told the shadow, neither triumphantly nor wearily, and Its golden eyes burned.
I know yours, as well, It replied, streaming around and embracing her. Maralyn Victoria Roanoke.
No, she whispered, looking past the demon to Sammy, watching with innocent green eyes. Cassandra’s eyes. My name is Mary Winchester. And my sons will destroy you in the end.
Softly, the demon-shadow laughed, tightening Its grip on her. Is that a fact, darling?
Mary smiled, pulling close the memory of Cassandra’s love, of John’s kiss, of Dean’s pealing laughter, of Sam’s first breath. Yes, she whispered. Yes, Croatoan, I swear to you that it is.
She closed her eyes and let her power burn. The only future she never saw was her own-but surrendering to the blackness, she could see the light that came from her, the light carried forth by her sons.
And with her final breath, Mary Winchester smiled. Because the demon, Croatoan, had no idea what she knew. As she spiraled into the abyss, her laughter soared to the sky, and she could feel Cassandra leading her home.
continued in "Genetic Codes"