Fic: #043 My Mommy is an angel
Title: My Mommy is an angel
Rating: PG
Characters: John, Sam, Dean
Spoilers: none
Prompt: #043 Angel
Disclaimer: I owe nothing ;( !!!
Summary: Sam was four, when he started to ask questions about his Mommy...
A/N:
1. This fic is for the 100_situations challenge.
2. English isn't my native language, so excuse some mistakes.
3. I would love to know your opinion...
My Mommy is an angel
The first time John told Sam the whole story of Mary's death, Sam was four years old. Sam had his first days in his new kindergarten and mother's day was in a week, which meant they had done handicrafts for all their mothers... and Sam had started to ask questions.
John had already picked up Dean from school and the second Sam got in the car he had started babbling - about what they had done.... while Dean had tried to do his homework as fast as possible, so he could go on the hunt later with his Dad.
“Dad... you think Mom will like the present?” Sammy asked innocently.
John nearly drove the car in the opposite lane and Dean looked up from his work.
John gripped the steering wheel tighter until his knuckles turned white. For him the theme Mary was still uncomfortable. He has never told his boys what has happened the night their whole life has changed. Dean only knew the important fact: A demon has killed their mother. He looked into the rear-view mirror at his two sons.
Sam smiled at his father. “Sammy, you know that...”
“Mrs White said that the people we love will always be there with us.” Sam quoted his teacher.
John didn't say anything. He focused on the road.
After a while Dean answered his brother's question. “I am sure Mom will like it!” he said and snatched Sam's cuddly rabbit out of Sam's hand.
“Dean, give it back!” Sam said and hit his brother, who held the toy out of his brother's reach.
John watched the scene and was thankful for Dean's distraction. John more often noticed that Dean was acting like a grown up.
He didn't really know if he should be proud or sad. Because he knew that he was the reason that Dean had to take responsibility. He took Dean's childhood away, because he had decided to go after the demon, who took Mary from him.
***
John pulled into the driveway of their house - of the moment. It was the second home of some people he had helped out a while ago. It was a good place to stay and he had promised himself that he would allow his boys to settle down a little bit longer than last time.
Dean helped Sam out of the child car seat - the one John had bought after they nearly had an accident and Dean had freaked out about it. Normally Dean never complained and always followed orders, but this had been about Sammy. And John knew that nothing mattered more to Dean than his little brother.
The second John entered the house he immediately went to his computer and began to search for more information on the demon, he intended to hunt tonight.
Dean sat down in the living room. He threw his school stuff in the corner and started to clean the guns.
Sammy took out some papers and pencils and lay down on his stomach and started drawing.
***
After a while Sammy stood up and ran to his Daddy with his drawn paper in his hand.
“For you.” Sammy said and looked at John smiling. John smiled back and took the drawn paper out of Sammy's hands.
He stared at it for long time and his hands started to shack.
“Daddy?” Sammy asked confused.
John stood up from his chair and kneed in front of his youngest son.
“Sammy. Why did you draw this?” John asked. But Sammy only shrugged.
“Dad, what is it?” Dean asked as he had noticed his Dad's tension.
“Sammy. I need to know.” John insisted now more forcefully but Sam didn't know why his father was so rude and small tears appeared in his eyes.
Dean came nearer and looked at the picture in his Dad's hand. Of course it was only a childish drawing, but Dean recognized what Sam had drawn and his breath faltered.
Sammy had drawn a blond woman in a white dress and as far Dean could see, the woman was surrounded by flames... and next to the woman was a house, which looked pretty much like the house they had lived in when his Mommy still had been alive.
He knew that because he had recently discovered a photo of his father and mom in front of their old house, in his Dad's bag. He had put it back, but whenever his Dad wasn't at home, Dean would sneak into his room to look at the photo.
He knew that talking about Mommy was forbidden. When he was smaller he had asked a lot of questions, but Dad had always changed the subject and he even got mad a few times, so Dean had stopped asking. There weren't even any photos of her.
Dean had thought that they all burned in the house, until he found the one picture.
Dean looked at his now nearly crying little brother and his Dad, unsure what to do next.
John breathed in and out a few times to calm himself down and finally smiled at his son. He took him in his arm and uplifted him. He went over to the couch, placed Sammy on it and sat down next to him.
Dean followed them and sat down in the arm chair.
“I don't know why I drew it.” Sammy said to his father and more tears were running down his face.
John ruffled through Sammy's hair. “Sh, it's okay. I am sorry, I shouldn't have yelled at you.” John said calmly.
Sammy wiped away his tears fast - he knew that crying was a weakness, at least that was what Dad always told Dean - not that Dean ever cried.
“Sammy... I want you to listen to me. I am going to tell you a story and I am only going to tell you it once.” John said and Sam looked at him with big eyes.
John stood up and went to his room. Both of his sons looked after him confused, but they sat still and waited for what was coming next.
John came back with a photo in his hand and Dean immediately recognized it as the one with Mommy and Dad on it.
John sat back next to Sammy and looked him into his eyes.
“I know I never talk about her... and I know that you know nearly nothing about her....” John couldn't finish his sentence. He simply handed it over to Sammy.
“I don't know if Dean ever showed it to you.” John said and Dean shifted uneasily and embarrassed. He should have known that he couldn't fake John Winchester.
Sammy watched the photo with amazement.
“That's your Mommy.” John Winchester told his son and the peaceful smile on his son's face made him smile too.
“She is beautiful.” Sammy whispered and traced her features on the photo with his fingers. His eyes seemed to sparkle and it was as if he went to his own world.
“Sammy... Sammy.” John said firmly and Sammy slowly looked up. “The house in the background is our old house.” he told his son and then he showed Sammy the picture he has drawn, again.
Sammy looked at the picture and at his drawing. “Looks alike.” he simply said.
Dean nearly had to laugh because of his brother's naivety and John realized too that it was useless to ask further. So he decided that he should deal with it later.
“Every night she would bring Dean in your room, so the two could say good night to you.” John started to tell his story. And Dean immediately concentrated.
Sam looked up to his Dad. John smiled at the memory. He took the photo from Sam and watched it for a second. “You were exactly 6 month old when it happened.” John then said and his face clouded again. Sammy looked confused at his father.
“After they said goodnight, I brought Dean to bed and read him his Goodnight story.” John told. “Like mine?” Sammy asked.
“Like yours.” John confirmed. For Sammy his favorite time was when John told him his goodnight story. Something John had time for every night, even if he had to go on a hunt.
“After that I checked on you once again. You were deeply asleep... I wasn't tired, so I went watching some TV that night. And somehow I must have fallen asleep.” John said and Sammy gasped and looked at his father with wide eyes. John had no idea why Sammy thought that he would never sleep. Maybe because Sammy was a sleepy head. The last few months Sammy was always tired and he had bad dreams. Something John was concerned about too.
“Yes I fell asleep. The next thing I remember was a scream.” John said sadly and Dean watched his father carefully.
“Mom.” Dean just said and John turned to him and nodded.
“Why did she scream. Was she hurt?” Sam asked.
“I ran upstairs immediately. The scream came from your room.” John said. “But when I arrived, she wasn't in sight. I went over to your crib. You were awake and looking at me... and then a drop felt on my hand. And another...” John said.
Dean grew stiff. He knew what was going to happen, while his little brother still didn't really know what this was about.
“Dad...” Dean tried to stop his father. He wasn't sure that Sam was ready for it.
But John ignored him. “When I looked closer... I noticed that it was blood.” he said. This was the first time Sam began to realize what this was about. And his eyes widened and something like terror appeared on his face.
John hesitated for a second. Maybe it was really too early. But he had started it, there was no going back now. He wouldn't be able to tell this story once again.
“Dad!” Dean tried again. He had seen Sammy's face.
But John still ignored him.
“When I looked up I saw ...” the image was still burned in John's head - even after four years. Something that still haunts him in his dreams sometimes.
“... I saw your mother pinned to the ceiling... along her stomach was a blood trace...” John said and Sammy looked at his father with horror. Tears were running down his face and he held his hand against his ears, to block out his father's words.
“... the next second she was burning and the whole room caught on fire.” John said, in his own world. Unaware of his son's feelings.
“Dad stop it!” Dean said. There were unshed tears in his eyes... but he was his father's son. He learned to block out his feelings - for the moment.
Dean ran over to his little brother who was sobbing now and rocking himself back and forth. Dean hugged Sam and was whispering some comforting words in his ear.
John finally snapped out of his state and watched his sons. He realized that he had gone too far.
He got pale. That hasn't been his intention. He didn't know what has gotten into him. When Mary died, he had sworn himself that he would never tell his sons the story. But here he was. Telling it, to his sons, while both were still little kids.
Being a good father became so much harder since Mary died and since he found out about the supernatural...
John stood up, took his jacket and left the house.
***
Dean immediately woke up when he heard his brother whimper.
“Sammy?” Dean said and looked over to his little brother. They were sleeping in their father's king size bed.
After John had left, Dean had tried to calm Sammy down. But it had taken him about an hour and even when he was calm, Sam had never left Dean's side for the next hours. And the normally babbling boy, didn't say a word.
When Sam started to look tired, Dean wanted to bring him to bed... but Sam had refused to go to his room. So Dean had taken Sam to their father's room, where Sam immediately felt asleep, after Dean had read him a goodnight story and had assured him, that he wouldn't leave him.
Dean had watched Sam for awhile. He actually wanted to stay awake, till their father came, but as time passed, he felt asleep too.
Sam was tossing back and forth. It was obvious that he had a nightmare.
“Sammy!” Dean said louder now. He shook his brother and after awhile Sammy woke up confused.
“Dean?” he asked.
“I am here.... did you have a bad dream?” Dean asked.
Sam looked at his older brother and Dean could see fear in Sammy's eyes.
“She was screaming! And there was fire and the black man was laughing.” Sam whined. “Why did he hurt her? She was screaming.” Sam repeated over and over again.
“Sammy. It was just a dream.” Dean tried to reassure his brother. But Sammy wouldn't stop.
“You wanna know what I dreamed?” Dean asked. Trying to calm Sam down and Sam really focused on Dean now.
“I dreamed of Mom, too, you know.” he said and Sammy was watching him anxiously now.
“What did you dream?” Sam asked excited.
“The demon never hurt her... he couldn't.” Dean said.
“Why?” Sammy asked confused.
“Because she is an angel. The night the demon came, she flew up to the sky. So she can watch us all the time.” Dean said and stroked Sammy's hair, so he would calm down.
“Why doesn't she come back to us?” Sammy asked half asleep.
“She does. Every night when we sleep she comes down, to see us, to protect us.” Dean assured.
“Why not in the morning?” Sammy asked again.
“When we can't see her, the demon can't see her. And in the morning Dad is there. So we are all safe. She would never let anything hurt you...” Dean again said... and both brother's fell asleep again. Feeling safe.
***
All the time John had been standing behind the door. Listening. He had tears in his eyes.
Somewhere deep down, he believed that Mary was watching her boys. That she would protect them. It was a comforting thought.
John quietly opened the door. He went over to his boys and placed a soft kiss on each of their foreheads.
He looked a little bit longer at Dean. When he was asleep he looked so much younger. Nearly like the boy Mary had brought to Sammy's crib every night.
But Dean wasn't so innocent anymore. Dean had grown up and had started to take responsibility. Like today. Dean had taken care of Sammy, while he himself had been too chicken, to be there for his sons.
He wasn't proud of himself. But sometimes all this was too much for him, even for him. Sometimes this seemed like a bad dream from which he hoped to wake up soon. Who would blame him. There weren't many people out there who would believe him when he told them that he was hunting supernatural beings every night....
But it wasn't a dream and he had to start to take responsibility. So Dean wouldn't suffer from it. He would change it, he promised himself. He would be a good father again.
“I am proud of you.” John whispered to Dean and stroke his cheek.
Then he reached into his pocket and took out a photo frame - which he had bought earlier - with the photo of him and Mary in front of their old house. He placed it on the nightstand, so Sammy and Dean could see it, when they woke up.
He sat down in the arm chair next to the bed, watching his boys sleeping. Before he fell asleep, he thought he saw a blond woman in a white dress, standing in the room. Watching them all with a smile.... but it was just a dream, right!
-the end-
Rating: PG
Characters: John, Sam, Dean
Spoilers: none
Prompt: #043 Angel
Disclaimer: I owe nothing ;( !!!
Summary: Sam was four, when he started to ask questions about his Mommy...
A/N:
1. This fic is for the 100_situations challenge.
2. English isn't my native language, so excuse some mistakes.
3. I would love to know your opinion...
My Mommy is an angel
The first time John told Sam the whole story of Mary's death, Sam was four years old. Sam had his first days in his new kindergarten and mother's day was in a week, which meant they had done handicrafts for all their mothers... and Sam had started to ask questions.
John had already picked up Dean from school and the second Sam got in the car he had started babbling - about what they had done.... while Dean had tried to do his homework as fast as possible, so he could go on the hunt later with his Dad.
“Dad... you think Mom will like the present?” Sammy asked innocently.
John nearly drove the car in the opposite lane and Dean looked up from his work.
John gripped the steering wheel tighter until his knuckles turned white. For him the theme Mary was still uncomfortable. He has never told his boys what has happened the night their whole life has changed. Dean only knew the important fact: A demon has killed their mother. He looked into the rear-view mirror at his two sons.
Sam smiled at his father. “Sammy, you know that...”
“Mrs White said that the people we love will always be there with us.” Sam quoted his teacher.
John didn't say anything. He focused on the road.
After a while Dean answered his brother's question. “I am sure Mom will like it!” he said and snatched Sam's cuddly rabbit out of Sam's hand.
“Dean, give it back!” Sam said and hit his brother, who held the toy out of his brother's reach.
John watched the scene and was thankful for Dean's distraction. John more often noticed that Dean was acting like a grown up.
He didn't really know if he should be proud or sad. Because he knew that he was the reason that Dean had to take responsibility. He took Dean's childhood away, because he had decided to go after the demon, who took Mary from him.
***
John pulled into the driveway of their house - of the moment. It was the second home of some people he had helped out a while ago. It was a good place to stay and he had promised himself that he would allow his boys to settle down a little bit longer than last time.
Dean helped Sam out of the child car seat - the one John had bought after they nearly had an accident and Dean had freaked out about it. Normally Dean never complained and always followed orders, but this had been about Sammy. And John knew that nothing mattered more to Dean than his little brother.
The second John entered the house he immediately went to his computer and began to search for more information on the demon, he intended to hunt tonight.
Dean sat down in the living room. He threw his school stuff in the corner and started to clean the guns.
Sammy took out some papers and pencils and lay down on his stomach and started drawing.
***
After a while Sammy stood up and ran to his Daddy with his drawn paper in his hand.
“For you.” Sammy said and looked at John smiling. John smiled back and took the drawn paper out of Sammy's hands.
He stared at it for long time and his hands started to shack.
“Daddy?” Sammy asked confused.
John stood up from his chair and kneed in front of his youngest son.
“Sammy. Why did you draw this?” John asked. But Sammy only shrugged.
“Dad, what is it?” Dean asked as he had noticed his Dad's tension.
“Sammy. I need to know.” John insisted now more forcefully but Sam didn't know why his father was so rude and small tears appeared in his eyes.
Dean came nearer and looked at the picture in his Dad's hand. Of course it was only a childish drawing, but Dean recognized what Sam had drawn and his breath faltered.
Sammy had drawn a blond woman in a white dress and as far Dean could see, the woman was surrounded by flames... and next to the woman was a house, which looked pretty much like the house they had lived in when his Mommy still had been alive.
He knew that because he had recently discovered a photo of his father and mom in front of their old house, in his Dad's bag. He had put it back, but whenever his Dad wasn't at home, Dean would sneak into his room to look at the photo.
He knew that talking about Mommy was forbidden. When he was smaller he had asked a lot of questions, but Dad had always changed the subject and he even got mad a few times, so Dean had stopped asking. There weren't even any photos of her.
Dean had thought that they all burned in the house, until he found the one picture.
Dean looked at his now nearly crying little brother and his Dad, unsure what to do next.
John breathed in and out a few times to calm himself down and finally smiled at his son. He took him in his arm and uplifted him. He went over to the couch, placed Sammy on it and sat down next to him.
Dean followed them and sat down in the arm chair.
“I don't know why I drew it.” Sammy said to his father and more tears were running down his face.
John ruffled through Sammy's hair. “Sh, it's okay. I am sorry, I shouldn't have yelled at you.” John said calmly.
Sammy wiped away his tears fast - he knew that crying was a weakness, at least that was what Dad always told Dean - not that Dean ever cried.
“Sammy... I want you to listen to me. I am going to tell you a story and I am only going to tell you it once.” John said and Sam looked at him with big eyes.
John stood up and went to his room. Both of his sons looked after him confused, but they sat still and waited for what was coming next.
John came back with a photo in his hand and Dean immediately recognized it as the one with Mommy and Dad on it.
John sat back next to Sammy and looked him into his eyes.
“I know I never talk about her... and I know that you know nearly nothing about her....” John couldn't finish his sentence. He simply handed it over to Sammy.
“I don't know if Dean ever showed it to you.” John said and Dean shifted uneasily and embarrassed. He should have known that he couldn't fake John Winchester.
Sammy watched the photo with amazement.
“That's your Mommy.” John Winchester told his son and the peaceful smile on his son's face made him smile too.
“She is beautiful.” Sammy whispered and traced her features on the photo with his fingers. His eyes seemed to sparkle and it was as if he went to his own world.
“Sammy... Sammy.” John said firmly and Sammy slowly looked up. “The house in the background is our old house.” he told his son and then he showed Sammy the picture he has drawn, again.
Sammy looked at the picture and at his drawing. “Looks alike.” he simply said.
Dean nearly had to laugh because of his brother's naivety and John realized too that it was useless to ask further. So he decided that he should deal with it later.
“Every night she would bring Dean in your room, so the two could say good night to you.” John started to tell his story. And Dean immediately concentrated.
Sam looked up to his Dad. John smiled at the memory. He took the photo from Sam and watched it for a second. “You were exactly 6 month old when it happened.” John then said and his face clouded again. Sammy looked confused at his father.
“After they said goodnight, I brought Dean to bed and read him his Goodnight story.” John told. “Like mine?” Sammy asked.
“Like yours.” John confirmed. For Sammy his favorite time was when John told him his goodnight story. Something John had time for every night, even if he had to go on a hunt.
“After that I checked on you once again. You were deeply asleep... I wasn't tired, so I went watching some TV that night. And somehow I must have fallen asleep.” John said and Sammy gasped and looked at his father with wide eyes. John had no idea why Sammy thought that he would never sleep. Maybe because Sammy was a sleepy head. The last few months Sammy was always tired and he had bad dreams. Something John was concerned about too.
“Yes I fell asleep. The next thing I remember was a scream.” John said sadly and Dean watched his father carefully.
“Mom.” Dean just said and John turned to him and nodded.
“Why did she scream. Was she hurt?” Sam asked.
“I ran upstairs immediately. The scream came from your room.” John said. “But when I arrived, she wasn't in sight. I went over to your crib. You were awake and looking at me... and then a drop felt on my hand. And another...” John said.
Dean grew stiff. He knew what was going to happen, while his little brother still didn't really know what this was about.
“Dad...” Dean tried to stop his father. He wasn't sure that Sam was ready for it.
But John ignored him. “When I looked closer... I noticed that it was blood.” he said. This was the first time Sam began to realize what this was about. And his eyes widened and something like terror appeared on his face.
John hesitated for a second. Maybe it was really too early. But he had started it, there was no going back now. He wouldn't be able to tell this story once again.
“Dad!” Dean tried again. He had seen Sammy's face.
But John still ignored him.
“When I looked up I saw ...” the image was still burned in John's head - even after four years. Something that still haunts him in his dreams sometimes.
“... I saw your mother pinned to the ceiling... along her stomach was a blood trace...” John said and Sammy looked at his father with horror. Tears were running down his face and he held his hand against his ears, to block out his father's words.
“... the next second she was burning and the whole room caught on fire.” John said, in his own world. Unaware of his son's feelings.
“Dad stop it!” Dean said. There were unshed tears in his eyes... but he was his father's son. He learned to block out his feelings - for the moment.
Dean ran over to his little brother who was sobbing now and rocking himself back and forth. Dean hugged Sam and was whispering some comforting words in his ear.
John finally snapped out of his state and watched his sons. He realized that he had gone too far.
He got pale. That hasn't been his intention. He didn't know what has gotten into him. When Mary died, he had sworn himself that he would never tell his sons the story. But here he was. Telling it, to his sons, while both were still little kids.
Being a good father became so much harder since Mary died and since he found out about the supernatural...
John stood up, took his jacket and left the house.
***
Dean immediately woke up when he heard his brother whimper.
“Sammy?” Dean said and looked over to his little brother. They were sleeping in their father's king size bed.
After John had left, Dean had tried to calm Sammy down. But it had taken him about an hour and even when he was calm, Sam had never left Dean's side for the next hours. And the normally babbling boy, didn't say a word.
When Sam started to look tired, Dean wanted to bring him to bed... but Sam had refused to go to his room. So Dean had taken Sam to their father's room, where Sam immediately felt asleep, after Dean had read him a goodnight story and had assured him, that he wouldn't leave him.
Dean had watched Sam for awhile. He actually wanted to stay awake, till their father came, but as time passed, he felt asleep too.
Sam was tossing back and forth. It was obvious that he had a nightmare.
“Sammy!” Dean said louder now. He shook his brother and after awhile Sammy woke up confused.
“Dean?” he asked.
“I am here.... did you have a bad dream?” Dean asked.
Sam looked at his older brother and Dean could see fear in Sammy's eyes.
“She was screaming! And there was fire and the black man was laughing.” Sam whined. “Why did he hurt her? She was screaming.” Sam repeated over and over again.
“Sammy. It was just a dream.” Dean tried to reassure his brother. But Sammy wouldn't stop.
“You wanna know what I dreamed?” Dean asked. Trying to calm Sam down and Sam really focused on Dean now.
“I dreamed of Mom, too, you know.” he said and Sammy was watching him anxiously now.
“What did you dream?” Sam asked excited.
“The demon never hurt her... he couldn't.” Dean said.
“Why?” Sammy asked confused.
“Because she is an angel. The night the demon came, she flew up to the sky. So she can watch us all the time.” Dean said and stroked Sammy's hair, so he would calm down.
“Why doesn't she come back to us?” Sammy asked half asleep.
“She does. Every night when we sleep she comes down, to see us, to protect us.” Dean assured.
“Why not in the morning?” Sammy asked again.
“When we can't see her, the demon can't see her. And in the morning Dad is there. So we are all safe. She would never let anything hurt you...” Dean again said... and both brother's fell asleep again. Feeling safe.
***
All the time John had been standing behind the door. Listening. He had tears in his eyes.
Somewhere deep down, he believed that Mary was watching her boys. That she would protect them. It was a comforting thought.
John quietly opened the door. He went over to his boys and placed a soft kiss on each of their foreheads.
He looked a little bit longer at Dean. When he was asleep he looked so much younger. Nearly like the boy Mary had brought to Sammy's crib every night.
But Dean wasn't so innocent anymore. Dean had grown up and had started to take responsibility. Like today. Dean had taken care of Sammy, while he himself had been too chicken, to be there for his sons.
He wasn't proud of himself. But sometimes all this was too much for him, even for him. Sometimes this seemed like a bad dream from which he hoped to wake up soon. Who would blame him. There weren't many people out there who would believe him when he told them that he was hunting supernatural beings every night....
But it wasn't a dream and he had to start to take responsibility. So Dean wouldn't suffer from it. He would change it, he promised himself. He would be a good father again.
“I am proud of you.” John whispered to Dean and stroke his cheek.
Then he reached into his pocket and took out a photo frame - which he had bought earlier - with the photo of him and Mary in front of their old house. He placed it on the nightstand, so Sammy and Dean could see it, when they woke up.
He sat down in the arm chair next to the bed, watching his boys sleeping. Before he fell asleep, he thought he saw a blond woman in a white dress, standing in the room. Watching them all with a smile.... but it was just a dream, right!
-the end-