No Better Husband
Disclaimer: Charmed and Supernatural do not belong to me. I make no profit, and never will try to make some, from this story. A/N
: It occured to me to mention that this is not and probably never will be Season Three, or even Season Four compliant. I haven't SEEN season four yet. And since this was originally written back in '07, any version of young John and Mary are my own imaginings from what was shown season 2 and pre-that.
Enjoy and review. They're like cookies. Cause you know cookies are better than crack. And candy. Unless it's snickers. Because those rock. Or those Honey Oats granola bars ... which are granola bars. Not candy. Yet still better than cookies. And healthy too! ... I think.
May the gooey-sweetness begin!
Chapter 2: There’s no better husband than John Winchester
December 20th, 1978
"Dashing through the snow on a one horse open slay ... hmm, hmm, hmm, hmm, hmmmmm laughing all the way. Bells on bobtails ring, making spirits bright ..." Mary Winchester stood on her tips of her toes adding garland around the door frame. Her position made precarious and the task made more difficult because of the added bulk of her middle; however, she wouldn't let that stop her from decorating her home for the upcoming holidays. That or her hennish husband. Mary continued to hum the rest of the popular holiday song under her breath, as a smile played on her lips. She was thinking on the difficulty she had getting the love of her life out to work that morning.
Her Johnny ... Mary's smile became a full blown grin as she thought of how changed her rough and tumble ex-Marine had become since they had discovered that she as pregnant with their first child. Yes, he still cursed like a sailor (no pun indeed), he still forgot to wipe his boots off before he entered the house, and liked to sneak cookies behind her back like he was no more than three ... but he had changed. After all how many wives could brag that her husband knew the benefits behind wood and plastic cribs? How many could say that he went to every single Lamaze class? How many could say that he practiced diapering on baby dolls?
Not many, though John would never speak to her again if she told any of their friends about the doll thing.
Yes, there very much was a softer side to John Winchester but Mary was learning one had to learn to take the good with the neurotically overprotective.
Overprotective wasn't enough for her Johnny.
That was why she added the neurotic as an adverb.
And paranoid. And insane. And about to drive her over the brink!
The minute he had discovered that she was pregnant he wouldn't let her walk, going as far as to CARRY her to the car and into the doctor's office. It had taken the doctor and a few nurses to boot to assure him that setting her feet on the ground would not cause her to strain anything. This was one of the reasons why she was hurrying to decorate the house. John didn't have the time and would never let her do it.
Mary let out a giggle. For someone so smart, love and fear could make him so dumb.
What was she going to do? Tangle herself up in lights and attach herself to the tree?
Add ornaments and suddenly go into labor? She had tried to reason with him but he wouldn't have it and after a while she had given up trying. It was safer on her sanity. Moreover, it was so much easier to sneak around.
So long as he didn't find out. Cause when he did, he began to cast her those looks. Those looks that said either that she'd let him down or she was being silly and wouldn't let him protect her. As if tying her own shoes would cause her to miscarriage. Luckily, this insanity seemed to dim after the first and onto the others (or so the doctors and her neighbor Vicky Fields told her).
Until then she would learn how to handle it.
Although, despite how loud her protests where, John's insane paranoia warmed her over multiple times.
It made her feel like she was on higher clouds than John's love itself usually made her walk on.
Nearly everything was perfect. She was married to the man she loved and she still loved him as he did her despite what her parents had predicted. She was in a small, but wonderful home that she adored. Had new friends that were terrific. And best of all ... best of all she was going to give John a baby. They were going to have a baby very, very soon. They were going to be a family. The smile on Mary's face faltered, as she thought on the word 'family'. They were going to be a family ... or they could if ... well, it would be better if they ... No. No, Mary wasn't going to let herself think about it, about her.
Mary refused to let herself think about her little girl.
The baby that she and John had seen in the church in San Francisco over a year ago.
The baby her heart had known had belonged to it, still knew.
Mary wouldn't let herself think about Paige (she had already named the baby, pathetic wasn't it?) because when she did she led herself to think about how much a part of her resented John and his words of "just not yet". Her entire being loved him, and tried to understand that he too must listen to his heart and if his heart told him that it wasn't the time to bring Paige home with them, she would try to respect that. She would try, but it was so hard. It was so damn hard. It hurt. If not now, then when? Why not now?
Just not yet, he would always say when she asked. Then when?
She had asked him last Christmas and that had been his reply.
She had asked him on her birthday and again he had said those three words and of course again, and again, and again on August 2nd of this year.
Just. Not. Yet.
When would she get to adopt Paige and make the little girl theirs?
Make her a Winchester?
She had tried to explain it to others, because honestly she couldn't explain to her brain what her heart knew.
She really couldn't make sense and explain this feeling. Explain this compulsion that she had to become that baby's mother. Explain the instant connection that she had the moment she had laid eyes on the baby. The tug of some thing, some little voice that had led her to drag her Johnny into that church. But she couldn't, she always came up short and insensible when she did. Her mother thought that John was giving her things. Vicky at least tried; however, trying fell short, for her friend hadn't experienced what she had felt. The only person who could comprehend those emotions kept stalling with the words of 'just not yet'.
The baby was going to be born soon and she wanted so much for them to be a family, the four of them: John, herself, Paige, and the baby to be. And Paige needed her, needed them.
Mary was sure of it because she couldn't stop thinking about it, cause she felt it. She dreamed it.
As much as she thought about the girl that should be her daughter, she had dreams.
Mary had frequent dreams of things that she just couldn't understand, couldn't make sense of.
Dreams of magical women fighting monsters in lakes at camps; both winning and losing something vital.
Dreams of three little girls that were motherless and had invisible fathers. Of two little boys and their older sister who were motherless with broken fathers. She dreamt of angels that lost their wings. She dreamt of monsters and witches and three young people who became nine young people that joined together and fought the monsters and witches and loved each other. She dreamt of blue light ... she dreamt of so many strange things. None of them seemed to add up, except for the fact that she knew-something told her- that they had to do with Paige ... and her unborn baby.
Mary told John of her dreams, using them to try and convince him that it was pressing that they go and get Paige NOW
. John would look at her, a solemn look in his eyes though he would never laugh at her or brush her fantastical, because even she knew they were out there, dreams aside. No, John would simply look at her and say 'Just not yet'.
Son of a bitch, then when?!
Mary let out a sigh, trying to clear herself of her anger and desperation because it wouldn't be good for the baby or her marriage, and it sure as hell wouldn't bring Paige home to her any faster.
Getting a handle on herself, once again, Mary began to put left-over scraps of decorations back into the box she had for them; as she was doing this she heard the car door slam. She had been so lost in her thoughts she had missed hearing the usual sign of the tires rolling over gravel signaling that John was home. Dropping the box onto the floor, she quickly-or as quickly a seven months and many days pregnant woman could-kicked it under the table and waddled towards the couch of their small den, pretending to have been watching T.V.
John Winchester was bone-tired, smelly, dirty, hungry, and excited.
Walking into the house through the kitchen he quickly made his way to the sink only to wince and realize that once again he had once again forgotten to take off his work boots. Looking at the pristine linoleum that was now marked with mud and grease from cars, he winced again knowing that Mary was going to be put out with him. Or more than she had been lately. But he wouldn't worry about that right now, he couldn't for it was unimportant. He'd clean the floor later and besides he had something that he was sure would erase all and any of her irritation with him.
He quickly watched his hands in the kitchen sink and made his way to the den almost how bright and cheery was the house he was sure he had left very undecorated in the morning. Almost.
Pausing again, this time with a defeated sigh John looked around to take in how much work his wife had done.
The lights? She had put the lights on the tree? The star?! What the hell had she stood on! What if she had fallen?!
"Maaaary!!!!" John practically stormed towards her, his Look firmly etched on his features.
"Oh, John you're home." She smiled brightly up at him.
A little too brightly.
"Uh-huh. Mary just what were you thinking? Decorations? Decorations?! We don't need decorations for one damn Christmas! A ladder, Mary?! What the hell were you thinking!?!" John paused to his raging only to catch his breath. "Wh-"
"I heard you the first time John Winchester!" She snapped back. Oh, if she could stand up without taking an hour an a half to do so he would so see how well she had heard him! "I was thinking that my husband would be too tired after work to do the decorations himself and that it would be nice to celebrate our second christmas as husband and wife in spirit! Apparently I'm the only one who cares about memories or any of the important stuff!" Mary crossed her arms over her beach-ball belly and glared up at him, eyes flashing blue fire.
"Now Mary, I understand that." John said letting go of his annoyance and worry; this wasn't how he wanted to give her her present. "It's just that ... It's a ladder Mary and you were alone. I would've done it for you, no matter how tired. You just worry me so much, baby."
Mary continued to glare at him.
"I know you're not an invalid," He continued in soothing and calm, beseeching tone. "I do know that. It's just that with the baby so close to term and those dreams that keep you up honey, you've been so tired. Mar, I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you, you have to know that. Don't you?" He whispered the last word as he squatted down so that she didn't have to crane her neck to look at him; his frowning brown eyes meeting her blue eyes.
Mary let out a sigh, she really did need to learn how to stay annoyed with the man.
It just wouldn't do for him to always get his way, the talker, she thought with a small smile. "I know, Johnny." Cupping his face with her hands, she brought her face close to his. "I know. But you also know me. I can't just sit around and twiddle my thumbs until you get home."
"Yeah I do, I know. But think about it this way. The baby will be here soon and then you'll have your hands full. You'll have the house to decorate all you want, and the baby to nurse, and a toddler to run around after."
"A what?" Mary asked, her tone both unsure and confused. Her ears zeroing in his word and her heart stopping, skipping a beat, briefly.
"A toddler. They usually do run around don't they? Even the sweet and quiet ones. I am sure Paige will run around." John tried so hard to keep the smile off his face as Mary's eyes widen, though he couldn't help a grimace as she stretched his cheeks back and pressed her palms hard against his face.
"Pai- ... Johnny don't play with me. This isn't funny." She attempted to sound stern, but Mary failed spectacularly at that. Her tone was hopeful, voice wavering only slighty. "If you're trying to get me no longer mad at you, that isn't going to work."
"Of course it will." He grins. "Ow!" He yelped as she hit him lightly on the face. "I'm not playing woman." Rummaging in his jacket, John pulled out an envelope.
Grabbing the envelope from his hands, Mary opened it to pull out a plane ticket.
As she is doing so John falls into a slight nervous babble, unsure of what to do when her face becomes unreadable. A feeling uncertainty so acute, yet familiar. He hadn't felt so unsure with his wife since the time he asked her for a second date. "I didn't have the money, I wanted to earn the money. For the ticket. And little girl stuff. Vicky told me about all the stuff little girls would need. I got her cloths you see, and you can take her shopping when she comes. And I called California. The orphanage. I talked to the nun that was there last time. It's settled, all you have to do is sign and I go get her. Something about waiting for us ... I don't know it was a bit weird, Mar. I just-" He was silenced by her lips against his, her arms around his neck squeezing for dear life.
"She's coming home. She's coming here, Johnny?" She asked against his mouth.
John could taste the tears, her tears, when he answered her, moving his hand up and down her back. "Yeah, babe. She's coming here to live with us for good."
"When?" Mary pulled back slightly, smiling at him. Through the tears and excitement and love and happiness shining in her eyes it came out with radiance.
"This weekend." John smiled back.
Mary clenched her arms around his neck again, as she laid her head his shoulder and cried softly.
God there really wasn't a better husband than John Winchester.