Miranda was daydreaming, because there isn't much else to do when you're confined to your chair virtually all day, only moving out of it to go to bed. She was slightly worried that she couldn't hear the children and opened her eyes, they were nowhere to be seen. They had been playing out in the hall quite loudly but it was now silent. Miranda sighed, her son would be back from the shops soon and he'd be able to find them. If they'd got themselves into trouble, it would be entirely his fault because he knew exactly how little she could do.
Well, it would teach him a lesson in responsibility. She wasn't too worried about the kids, they were tough. They were Winchesters after all.
She soon heard feet thumping down the stairs.
"Grandma! Grandma!" they yelled, slipping and sliding their way in their socks on the floorboards. Miranda tried to keep her laughter under control as her grandchildren flailed their way into the room. "Grandma! Who are these people?" they came to a halt just in front of her chair, wildly waving an old photograph in her face.
"Hand it over, let me see it," she put on her reading glasses and took the photo. She smiled when she saw which one they'd got their hands on. It was over a hundred years old, but the scene was still heart-warming. A blonde woman, holding her new baby son, standing next to her husband, who was wearing a baseball cap and holding their other son of about four years.
"Dad's shown us all his old photos but we've never seen these people before," explained her granddaughter, Lisa.
"Yeah, and we wanna know," piped up Lisa's brother, John, who always had to make his thoughts known.
"You wanna know... what?" said Miranda.
"Pleeeeaaaase?" Miranda chuckled.
"Well, all right, then," Lisa and John came either side of her, leaning on the arm rests and getting as close to the picture as they could. "This here," Miranda pointed to the baby, "is your great great grandfather Sam," she moved her finger to point at the young boy, "this is your great great great uncle Dean. That's your great great great grandmother Mary and," she glanced at John, "your great great great grandfather John," John's eyes (the John that wasn't in the photo) went wide.
"He's called John? Just like me!"
"Yes, John, just like you,"
"He looks really cool! Was he cool? I bet he was cool!" Miranda laughed at John's excitement over such a simple thing.
"What happened to them? Why aren't there any pictures of them?"
"Nuh-uh! There are pictures of Sam and Dean, except that they're ancient," if he thought Sam and Dean were ancient in those pictures, Miranda hated to think how old John thought she was.
"Not long after this picture was taken Mary was killed," the children gasped, "In a fire above Sam's crib, by a demon." John was making many various noises of awe but at this point in the story, she lost Lisa's belief.
"A demon? Don't be silly Grandma, demons don't exist," Miranda raised her eyebrows at Lisa.
"Oh, don't they? You just tell your father that, why don't you?" Lisa and John both frowned.
"Have you ever seen that scar on his thigh?" they both nodded, "Have you ever asked him where it came from?" they both shook their heads, "When he gets back, you ask him what kind of demon gave that to him,"
"Dad's seen demons?" asked John,
"And ghosts," Miranda said with a smile. Lisa and John took a moment to digest these facts, then, being children, quickly moved on.
"So what happened to them?" said Lisa, pointing to the photo.
"Ah, well, John was very sad after his wife was killed and he was scared by this whole new world of evil things he had to protect his boys from. He packed up the whole family and they disappeared,"
"Yes, they drove off in their car and travelled around the country, never staying in one place for very long, killing anything bad they found. John was looking for the demon that took Mary from him and he was very determined. Sam and Dean went to lots and lots of different schools and stayed in some really horrible places. Sam said the car was always more of a home than anywhere else they stayed. Your aunt once looked for records of them but she didn't find much, just a few schools that they'd been to and one admission to a hospital, they didn't always use their real names, you see,"
"Did they live like that forever?"
"Not at all. When Sam was eighteen, he left John and Dean and went to college. He wanted to be normal,"
"Normal? Why would he want that? He had the coolest dad and they fought evil things and killed them and made everyone safe. They were like superheroes! We've got superheroes in our family!" John almost squealed. Miranda laughed,
"Being a superhero is dangerous and scary, I think Sam wanted a break from that,"
"Yeah, because being chased by scary monsters all the time can't be fun," said Lisa.
"No," said Miranda, frowning slightly in thought, "No it can't,"
"Well, then what happened?" demanded John impatiently,
"Then, John found a lead on the demon that had killed Mary and he left Dean on his own. Sam was doing well at college and had a girlfriend and he was ready to propose to her when Dean turned up in the middle of the night, scaring the absolute shi- crap out of Sam," Lisa giggled at the almost uttered swear word.
"What did Dean want, Grandma?"asked John,
"You mean apart from some company? Help finding their dad. Sam wouldn't go along with him, though, he agreed to go for just one weekend. He had to get back real quick, though because he had an interview," John screwed his face up in disgust,
"An interview? They're boooring, I'd much rather fight evil monsters and stuff!" Miranda raised an eyebrow at John,
"Would you now? Even a big slime covered things with claws the length of your arm?"
"Maybe not that evil monster, but I bet all of the other ones would be better than an interview," he stuck his tongue out at the thought of choosing an interview over killing things.
"Anyway, when they got back Sam's apartment went up in flames along with his girlfriend,"
"That's terrible!" cried Lisa.
"Yes, even worse was that it was caused by the same demon that had killed his mother,"
"That demon was nasty!" Miranda laughed to herself, that was the understatement of the century, "Why didn't he just leave Sam alone?"
"Ah, you see, Sam was special and the demon-" Miranda was interrupted by the opening of the front door, which signaled the return of her son, James.
"DAD!" yelled John, as he ran to greet his dad, "Daddy! Where did you get your scar from?" Lisa wasn't far behind her brother and she was asking the same question. Their father laughed,
"Which scar are you talking about? Hi Mom," he added as he entered the room.
"The one on your thigh!" the two children said in unison. Their father stopped dead and stared at Miranda, who smiled back at him.
"Mom! What have you been telling these two?"
"The truth, dear, that's all,"
"I said I didn't want my children involved in that twisted world of yours!"
"Well, that's unfortunate because they already are. This twisted world of mine can harm people whether or not they know about it,"
"What's the matter, Daddy?" said Lisa, not liking the tension between two of her most favourite family members.
"I don't mind knowing at all!" John assured his dad, who ignored him.
"We've managed well enough without your meddling so far, nothing evil has touched even one of us!"
"James, you know full well that your house is full to the brim with protection charms and spells. Half of them I put there myself! Don't you tell me you're perfectly safe not knowing, I've seen what evil can do!" Miranda was losing her temper, it was something James often made her do.
"And so have I, thanks to you!" John and Lisa were looking helplessly between the two adults. They'd never seen either of them go at each other like this before.
"Don't you blame those things on me, you were reckless, never listened to what I told you to do!"
"Not like your other, perfect son, hey Mom? And what happened to him?"
"Get out!" Miranda almost growled, "How dare you! Get out!" James turned and stormed out. Miranda glared after him, before her gaze softened and she looked at Lisa and John, "You should go with your daddy, I'll see you next week,"
"Can you tell us more about them next week?" John whispered and pointed to the picture, as though he had to hide it from his dad even though he was probably outside by now.
"I'll do even better," Miranda whispered conspiratorially, Lisa and John leaning in closer, "I'll show you John's journal," they both gaped in awe at that. "See you next week, then,"
"Bye, Grandma," they both said and kissed her and then left Miranda to her thoughts again.
She shut her eyes. She remembered sitting on Grandad Sam's knee when she was little, while he told her about ghosts he'd got rid of and rawheads he'd fried. Even though she'd never met her great uncle Dean, she almost felt she knew him from all those stories. She'd made a bad choice by bringing her children on hunts with her, she knew that, but she agreed with Dean, there was no way she could know these things and not do anything about it. She also understood John's need for his family to be able to protect themselves.
She remembered standing at the side of Grandad Sam's bed when he was old and couldn't see very clearly and couldn't move very much. She'd put her hand on his, she wasn't very good around frail people.
"Are you going to go with the reaper?" she'd asked, "I don't want to have to salt and burn you," Grandad Sam had smiled at that and nodded as much as his joints allowed, "And tell Dean that I think he's cool,"
"I'll be sure to pass on the message," he'd said in a small, dry voice. Then he'd gone to sleep and she'd left. She hoped he had passed on the message. If there was one thing she was looking forward to after she died, it was meeting them all. Until then, despite her eight decades of life so far, and her severely restricted movement, she was going to carry on taking out as many evil sons-of-bitches as she could.
Thank you for reading!