Take a Sad Song - Chapter 1

[mekachu04]

SUPERNATURAL FANFIC

Title: Take a Sad Song
Dated: March 2010
Genre: Alternate Reality, let-beat-up-Dean universe ( i like to write those ^^; )
Rating: PG
Pairing: past John/Mary
Disclaimer: Chamael's behaviorism are mine... that's about it. The rest belong to Kripke.
Warnings: there will be character death. uh.. lots of it. Mostly non graphic, but this is supernatural for crying out loud. Everyone dies.

 

CHAPTER ONE

 

Mary held her son close, running a gentle finger along his arm while he curled up against her, sleeping soundly. He'd be five soon, just a couple months away, and every day he grew up more and more like her late husband.

John Winchester. The Second. Her sweet son - all the family she had left in the whole world. John Deanna Winchester.

She and John hadn't really had a chance to pick out the right name before he had died - a horrible accident at the garage one night, almost 6 months before the baby was born. Mary had her precious little boy, named him after the father who she knew would have just adored him, and her own late mother, a woman who'd died so brutally trying to save her a decade ago.

"Dean...." she murmured lovingly, and the child smiled in his sleep as she kissed his forehead. Mary herself hadn't been big on Halloween growing up, and while she and Dean had compromised about the day this year, she'd forgotten to move his candy bag out of reach this morning. He'd done so good at not eating it last night - and waiting until she inspected it this morning. But by mid-day, her little man had had a candy binge, eating nearly half his weight in little chocolates and sugar - and had a stomachache that had him bawling. She'd made him tomato soup and rice, and stayed home from work with him. He'd felt better as the day worn on, but the whole ordeal had left him cranky and clingy.

John would have seen that one coming, she thought. He would of known about all these 'normal' dangers that where things she'd never even think of. How was she suppose to raise her little boy on her own? Dean was already missing out on pre-school because she couldn't afford any of the local programs. He was a smart boy, and she read to him every night - had him started on his letters - but how far behind was he going to be next fall when he started school....

The tiny apartment creaked around her, sounding out in it's age. She could hear Miss Colt on the other side of the wall they shared - the young woman was an artist, and a bit of a night owl - usually up until at odd hours. And strange in a way that made Mary miss her parents. Which made her miss John all the more....

Regardless, Colt was a good sort, careful to keep quiet after dark, and looked after Dean when Mary went to work in the afternoons, watched her little boy until she came home later in the evening.

The twenty year old would knock on the door about 12:30 with a smirk, would great Dean with a 'John Dean' drawl, and the two of them would head next door to watch worn home made copies of East of Eden and Rebel Without a Cause. She'd taken Dean to the theaters earlier that year to see Return of the Jedi, and had already promised to take him to the new Indiana Jones movie that was coming next summer. Dean loved her - and the woman was more than happy to let Mary's little boy run amuck with her art supplies. She'd preen over Dean, marveling at the freedom children had with expressing themselves on paper, as the two would bond over crayons and action figures.

Mary shifted with a sigh, glancing at her night clock, before pausing. The clock read midnight, the air in the room still and stuffy, to warm for early November. Something was wrong. Senses that had lied dormant for almost a decade came screaming awake, and she sat up in the bed, Dean mewing a little at the loss of warmth.

She looked slowly around the room, scanning it carefully, every nerve on edge. "Who's there?"

From the shadows, a pair of yellow eyes gleamed back at her.