A/N: I don't own Supernatural or any of the characters on it, and I'm not making a penny on this story. Trust me.

I thought this was going to turn out to be a crack fic, but it turned out surprisingly (if not completely) crack-free. In this AU, John shot himself in the head with the Colt when he was possessed with Azazel. This starts about six months afterwards. Hope you like it. Please R&R – depending on your response, this could be an AU that I might revisit.


The Curse

Dean and Sam Winchester sat in their hotel room in complete shocked silence. Dean was sitting at the little table, chewing absently on a fry, staring at his brother. Sam was laying on the bed furthest from the door, one arm over his eyes and the other on his nearly flat washboard abs. Suddenly he threw his arm off his face in what Dean thought was an overly theatrical move and shot an annoyed glare at the older man.


Dean canted his head in a shrug. "Nothin'. Just thinkin' is all."

"What, man?"

Dean leaned forward with sudden intensity. "How the hell do you think it's supposed to come out? Are you gonna be shittin' some demon spawn outta your ass? Cause I gotta tell ya man, that sounds real painful. Not to mention totally disgusting."

"It's not a demon spawn! It's a baby!" Sam's glare intensified and Dean swore he could almost feel his skin burn underneath it.

Dean narrowed his eyes and glared right back. "Unless they didn't teach you this at Stanford college boy, men do not have babies! It's not… natural."

"Not natural? What is it we do every day, Einstein?"

"Kill things that aren't natural!" Dean threw his arms out in frustration.

Sam huffed. "Just because it's not natural doesn't mean it's evil. I thought we already went over this."

He walked over to the bed and kneeled down next to it so that he was eye level with his brother. "Let's just go to another doctor, dude. You could just have a case of really… bad… gas." His speech slowed down as he realized just how ridiculous his rationalization sounded even to his own ears. He had been there when the technician had done the ultrasound when the doctor thought they might be dealing with a stomach tumor. He'd refused to leave his brother under those circumstances, thinking if it was bad, he 

needed to be there for the whole thing. He had seen the demon thing, on the little monitor looking ridiculously human and alive. His scowl deepened and he squirmed as his skin crawled at the memory.

"Bad gas with a heartbeat, Dean? Sucking it's thumb and doin' fucking summersaults?"

"All I know is that since it's pretty much impossible for a man to get pregnant, that thing can't be a baby!"

"Werewolves and vampires are pretty much impossible too."

"What's a second opinion gonna hurt?"

"Other than landing me on Oprah as the first man who isn't still technically a woman to end up pregnant? We barely got out of the last doctor's office before he could call Ridley's Believe It or Not. Damn technician was probably on the phone with the National Inquirer the minute she left the room."

"I like Ridley's Believe It or Not," Dean said, rambling as he tried to find a way to ease the tension and talk his brother into being reasonable or at least thinking like a fucking hunter instead of a hormonal, sentimental first time freaking mother. "Didja see the one with the guy who had the world's longest nails? Freakin' creepy. Still trying to figure out how that dude wipes his ass."

"Yes I saw it," Sam said, annoyance clear in his voice, "and that's the same damn thing that you said when you forced me to watch it."

"Look, man," Dean said as soothingly as he could as he leaned forward and touched his brother on the elbow.

"Don't touch me," Sam snarled as he snatched his arm away. Dean recoiled as if he'd been clocked in the jaw. He actually would have been less shocked if he had been.

"Hey man! What the fuck's wrong with you?"

"Nothing. Just… don't," he muttered, looking slightly embarrassed.


"You should have been saying that to the demon chick that put you in this situation," Dean hissed. He sounded angry as he stood up and practically threw himself on the other bed, but Sam knew that he was really scared. His older brother was like their father that way. They got scared and anger came out. He felt a lump in his throat as he thought of their father. He both wanted him there and was very grateful that he wasn't around right now. Dean was trying to convince him to kill the baby; Dad would have just tied him to a bed, shoved a piece of wood between his teeth and cut it out without even asking permission. He shivered at the thought. "I swear Sammy, you go for months like some sort of a freaking monk and then the first girl you decide to screw ends up being some kind of evil bitch who knocks you up. You sure know how to pick 'em baby brother. Didn't I teach you to use protection, anyway?"

Sam stared at his brother as he sat there, arms crossed, face pinched in a glare. "I used protection! I think…" To be honest he was drunk and a little fuzzy on the particulars. He'd had a condom before it happened, and it was gone afterwards. He always used protection so it never occurred to him to question it. "Either way, I'm not lettin' you kill it and that's final. If I find out that you've done anything to hurt it, I'm never forgiving you."


Sam threw his long legs over the edge of the bad as he sat up, clamping down on the queasiness the sudden movement caused. This would be a very bad time for morning sickness. "I mean it Dean! Never! I'll leave and I won't come back. You'll never see me again, cause if it's one thing we Winchesters are good at it's hiding."

"You don't mean that, Sam," Dean's voice sounded almost pleading and Sam almost caved. Instead he crossed his arms and set his jaw. He hated when his brother sounded like that and he knew that he was the only one alive who could make him, but he couldn't back down this time.

"I do. I don't want to, but I don't think I could look at you again if you killed it." He blinked at the tears in his eyes, but he held his brother's, trying to make him understand.

"Fine," Dean said, his voice hard even as he seemed to sag in defeat. "But if this thing goes all Alien and kills your stupid ass, I swear to God I'll resurrect you and kill you again myself!" There was a long awkward silence. "You still didn't answer the question. How's it gettin' out? You didn't change in… other ways… did you?" Dean's eyes flicked quickly below his brother's waist and then back up quickly, as if he really didn't want to know. He probably didn't.

Sam laughed softly. "No, Dean. I still have my usual plumbing. We'll just have to cut it out, like a c-section."

"What the fuck dude! I know I'm good at the basics. Digging out bullets, sowing up claw wounds, sanitizing burns, all that sort of shit, but a freaking c-section? You gotta be shittin' me!"

"You're going to have to clean up your language with the baby around, too. I'm shocked that I can string together a sentence without cursing."

Dean just looked at him and shook his head. "Un-fucking-believable," he said almost casually as he fell back against the bed.

"What in the holy hell are you eating?"

Sam looked up at him, green eyes wide with innocence. "A ham and jelly sandwich with jalapenos. It's actually pretty good. Wanna try it?" He held up the half eaten sandwich to his big brother.

Dean felt his stomach roll. "Abso-fucking-lutely not!" He took a step back and looked away. "I suppose I should be happy that you're not eatin' raw meat."

Sam pouted. "This is not Rosemary's Baby Dean." He took another healthy bite of the sandwich.

Dean winced and picked up his keys. "Sweet Jesus, I gotta get outta here before I lose my lunch. Want anything?"

"So'more of that Dove chocolate ice cream you got me last week. A big bag of dill chips. And an extra large double Whooper meal, with extra mayo and pickles, and a Dr. Pepper. And can you see if they still have those little cheese cake things?"

"Holy Mother of God," Dean muttered to himself as he left his brother to devour the rest of his sandwich. He knew that Sam was going to eat all that at once, because he always did lately. He didn't much like leaving Sam alone, but he had to. The boy attracted too much attention now. He was eight months pregnant and big as a house. It was obvious that he was pregnant, and a man. Not a good combination when you were trying to keep a low profile. The last thing he needed was for some stupid ass hunters to get word and try to kill his brother along with whatever the kid was growing in his gut. Cause then he'd have to go all Wrath of Khan on their asses. Just because his brother was probably carrying the freaking spawn of Satan didn't give anyone any right to touch him. Next week, they were going to a cabin Bobby had procured for them from one of the hunters when Dean told him that Sam was injured and needed somewhere to recuperate, cause, seriously? There was enough weirdness attached to the Winchester brand as it was without adding male pregnancy to the growing list. Dean wasn't sure he trusted even Bobby with what was going on because he couldn't even explain to himself why he was allowing this madness to continue. There was no way he could explain it to Bobby, who already thought they were a pair of damn fools.

He returned to the hotel room an hour later to find Sam fast asleep. Sleeping and eating seemed to be his favorite pass times now. Well, those and pissing. He smirked as he watched his baby brother sleep. The kid looked like he did when he was five. All curled up on himself, hands under his head, hair wild around his head. A wave of fond nostalgia washed over Dean. He rarely wished for normal – hell, he didn't even believe in it – but right now he'd give his left arm for it. Why the fuck did everything have come after his kid brother? He swore that sometimes the kid just kept bending over for it, just like he was now. He had been gathering items for the c-section and had almost everything that they'd need except the blood. He'd pick that up on the way to the cabin. He even had a doctor. After a bit of what he hoped was discrete probing, he'd found an obgyn whose brother was killed by a werewolf right in front of her a few years back. A couple of hunters saved her life. Thankfully the doctor had asked no questions when Dean called her, saying they were working on a case that needed her skills and asked her not to tell anyone about helping them. She took off a full week just like that and hopefully she would keep her word. Dean was going to pick her up on the way to the cabin. The thought of someone cutting his brother open twisted his stomach in knots almost as much as the fear of what they'd find in there. In addition to the supplies, he'd also gotten a car seat, a crib and clothes, all at Sam's insistence. The kid just couldn't bring himself to accept that whatever was going to be cut out of him just couldn't possibly be a human baby. He sighed and rubbed his face.


Sam opened his eyes to see his brother bury his face behind his hands. Really, he'd been half awake since Dean had opened the door, but he was just so tired that he allowed himself to drift. He always felt safer with Dean around anyway. The older man's heavy sigh had drawn him completely out of his slumber.


Dean's head snapped up and he tried to smile, but it never quite reached his eyes. "Hey kiddo. You feelin' alright?"

Sam gave him what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Tired and hungry. You know, the usual." Dean snorted in amusement. If anyone knew how hungry he'd been lately, it was Dean, who had to go out and get the food. "I'm sorry, Dean."

"What do you have to be sorry for, buddy?"

"I know you're scared. I am too."

"Then why the hell are we doin' this, Sammy?"

"Because it… it just feels right."

"That could just be part of whatever mojo the bitch worked on you, man."

"I thought of that too. But what if it's not?"

"What if it is? We just lost Dad… it's only been a year since…" Dean's voice trailed off and he looked away.

Since their father shot himself to kill the demon, Sam thought. Right in front of them. Dean wouldn't speak for three days, and he couldn't stop crying for longer. Sam shivered. "There's only one way we'll know for sure what the right thing is. Once the kid's born we can test him."

"What if it kills you by then?"

"It won't. Just trust me on this, okay."

Dean looked away and nodded. "You said you were hungry. One fucked up meal coming up," he said as he stood up and began laying Sam's food out for him."

"Uhm, Dean?"

"Yeah, Sasquatch?"

"A little help getting up would be great."

Dr. Karen O'Malley sat down across the table from Dean. "You know how risky this is? I'm not even sure what types of complications I should be looking for. Has the baby attached itself directly to his internal organs? Is there some sort of sack? Is there a danger for placental abruption? I don't even have an ultrasound machine to check position and…" her voice trailed off. "This is just so…"

"Unnatural? Yeah, I know. But this is my brother and I guess my niece or nephew we're talking about here. We gotta try." The alternative was unacceptable. That sat in silence for a few minutes before calling it a night. Karen to try to rest so she'd have steady nerves and steadier hands, Dean so he could do more research.

Dean was staring at his brother when he woke up. He couldn't stop thinking about what he'd read last night. After months research, the night before the c-section he'd finally found the most plausible explanation of what was going on with his brother and he wasn't sure if it was a relief or not. And he definitely wasn't able to get any sleep.

Sam hummed softly as he turned to look at him. He started to smile, but it turned into concern. "Dean? What is it man? You look spooked."

"I think I found it. What this," he gestured to Sam's stretched abdomen, "is."

Sam went pale and tears started to form in his eyes. "Is it evil?" His voice broke on the last word.

"What caused it was… but it's not. I think it's an honest to God real baby."

"So I was right?" Dean nodded and Sam sighed in relief. His brother may make him do all the research, but that didn't mean that Dean wasn't as good at it as he was "Tell me everything."

"It's a curse that was put on a town over two hundred years ago. The women stopped getting pregnant. The men got pregnant instead. They didn't know what it was and a lot of the things they did to try to cure what they thought was sickness killed the fetuses. Then the men died. They cut some open and figured it out, but… none of them survived. C-sections were risky back then, and they couldn't tell when it was the right time, and frankly they were all freaked. But when the baby died, the men did. Only a few survived."

"But… are any of those people our ancestors? Or did some witch put the curse on me?"

"No. Apparently it's the women that carried the curse. There's a legend that one of them put herself into hibernation until the right man was ready."

"The right man. You mean me right? What the fuck is it with everybody? Why do they all keep picking me? Is there a sign on my back?"

"Hell if I know little brother. Although, you are the only guy I know of in the entire history of mankind that would want to stay pregnant."

Sam huffed. "Whatever. So… we do this."

"Yeah, we do this. And we pray the kid lives through it."

"And that it's a boy. Otherwise we're gonna have trouble. So the… mother… she just knocks me up and leaves? Who does that?"

Dean gave him the look he always gave him when his big brother thought he was being an idiot. "Maybe it was some sort of cosmic revenge. But we didn't exactly leave a forwarding address when we blew town the next morning and we've covered several thousand miles since then. She may just not be able to find us."

Sam was laying on his side as the doctor carefully administered the anesthetic to his spine. He was facing Dean, who was wearing scrubs and holding his hand. "I've been thinking about names."

"Yeah? What have you come up with?"

"If it's a girl, I was thinking Mary Jessica. After the two most important women in my life" He winced a little at the sharp pinch of the needle, but really he'd had far worse pain, so it was more in acknowledgement then any real discomfort. "For a boy I was thinking… John. John Dean Winchester. After the two men who raised me."

Dean blinked at him and he swore he saw tears in his eyes. "Huh," he said softly. He cleared his throat. The doctor saved him from the need to reply by patting Sam on the side and telling him he could roll over now. Ten minutes. The operation would start and they'd either have on more addition to their small family, or one less. Sam squeezed his brother's hand. He'd never been so afraid in his life. It wasn't 

for himself that he wanted to live so much as it was for Dean. He really didn't think that his brother could take another hit.

"You know," Sam said, trying to sound conversational, "after this we could go see Cassie."

Dean looked at him silently for a moment. "Maybe," he finally said in a calm, even tone. Giving nothing away.

"Promise me if this doesn't work out, you'll go see her."


"Dean, promise me. Promise me you'll have kids and you'll name one of them Sam."

"Sammy," Dean said softly and he was sure now that there were tears. "I can't lose you… you're all I got, man."

"Dean… promise me." Sam knew that if his brother made the promise, he'd do it no matter how much he didn't want to. Because he didn't want to be the last thing that Dean ever had. Dean was built to take care of people. He needed someone to look after.

"Okay. Fine. I promise."

Sam closed his eyes and sighed as he nodded in acknowledgement. "Good. And if you break your word," he opened his eyes and peered at his brother, "I swear to God I'm gonna haunt you. I'll attach myself to the Impala and fuck up the radio. Make it eat all your damn tapes." A small smile spread across his face.

Dean puffed himself up with mock indignation. "Dude! You wouldn't!"

"Try me, jerk."

The doctor leaned over and ran something long his side. "Feel that?"

He shook his head.

She moved her hand an pressed against another spot. "That?"

"Just pressure."

She nodded. "You're ready. Okay, you're going to feel me in there, not pain just pressure. No matter what, stay as still as you can. I'm going to do my best to get you both through this."

Sam nodded, afraid that his voice would crack if he spoke again.


It felt like it took forever for the doctor to cut through the layers of skin and muscle to get to what looked like a big pink pouch. A big pink pouch that was moving.

"I'll be damned," Dean murmured as he watched it.

"What?" Sam was looking up at him, fear clear in his big green eyes.

"Freaky is all. Nothing's wrong. Well, unless you count the freaky."

The doctor carefully cut the pouch and there, inside, was a tiny pink squirming baby. And damn if Dean didn't nearly pass out. Knowing what was in there was one thing. Seeing it… seeing it was something entirely different. The doctor pulled it out, tied the cord and began suctioning out the baby's mouth and nose. It began to cry in irritation on it's own. "It's a boy," she cut the cord.

"JD," Sam said in a voice filled with wonder.

Karen put the screaming baby in Dean's arms as she got to work trying to figure out what to do with the pouch. Dean was caught between awe and concern. The look on her face said that they'd just finished the easy part. "Look man," he said to his brother as he expertly rocked the baby into silence while simultaneously wrapping him in a blanket. "I always said you were a girl. Guess this proves it, huh?"

Dean leaned over so that Sam could see the kid. Sam reached over and stroked the soft skin of his son's arm. "Don't listen to Uncle Dean, JD. He's a jerk."

"Dean," he looked up at the sound of his name. Karen was frowning, or at least seemed to be from what he could see of her face around the surgical mask. "You need to start that transfusion. Now."

Dean's heart dropped as he saw the amount of blood on the doctor's arms. What the fuck? He glanced down at his brother and saw the younger man's eyes drooping. Gently, he laid the baby down on his brother's now limp arm and rushed to the other side of the bed to take the clamp off the IV that had already been set up. "Can you stop it?"

"I think so. Just a minute. Most of the veins attached to the sack were small, but this one's a monster. I think it was the main artery feeding the baby. Slippery bastard."

She was silent for a few moments, Sam was out and Dean had no idea what he was going to do. If Sam died, what was he going to do with a baby? He remembered his promise. He'd give the kid a life, a real one, as much of one that Sam would approve of as he could. The baby was still curled up against Sam, half asleep and sucking his thumb.

"Got it," Karen announced triumphantly.

"So… he's gonna be alright?"

"Baring complications, he should be. Just have to suture and staple him, then watch his blood pressure and signs of rejection or infection. I can see why most of the men from that village died. No way to replace blood loss back then and leaving that sack behind probably would have caused infection. He's going to need two more pints after all he's lost. Check his temp, pressure and heart rate."

Dean got to work doing just that and reported it back to the doctor. "Too low," she said, telling him what he already knew as he switched bags. "We'll check it again half way through this pint. Keep an eye on him for signs of further blood loss. Hopefully I won't have to go back in."

The spent a tense few hours waiting for the bag to be half empty before checking Sam's vitals. To Dean's great relief, they were going in the right direction. His heart rate was on the very low side of normal and his pressure was still down, but approaching a safe level. By the middle of the third pint, his heart rate was good and strong, and his pressure was normal.

The doctor began stripping off her gloves and mask. "Good. I think we're out of the woods. But keep an eye on his temperature. We still need to make sure he doesn't start rejecting the blood or develop an infection." She picked up the baby. "I'll clean this one up and give him a thorough looking over while you finish up in here."

Dean grunted his agreement as he continued cleaning up his brother and the surrounding area. There was so much blood. Too much. His heart clinched as he remembered the blood from his father's head wound. He shook his head and told himself this wasn't the same. Sammy would be fine. The baby would be fine. Everyone would be fine.

Leaving briefly to wash his hands, Dean tried not to conjure up any nightmare scenarios in his agitated imagination. When he returned to the room, now free of the scrubs, gloves and mask, he found Karen putting his nephew in his crib. She looked up at him and smiled. "That was… interesting."

"Welcome to our life, doc," Dean said as he walked over to his brother and sat next to his bed.

"He's gonna want to eat in about an hour," she said looking down at the sleeping baby. "I got him all bathed, powdered and diapered."

Dean nodded. "I have some formula ready in the fridge. And a bottle warmer." He smirked. "Just call me Mr. Mom." He reached over and tenderly brushed his brother's hair from his face. His skin was still cool, but it wasn't too cold or hot. He still needed to use the thermometer, though.


Sam heard a voice. Not just any voice, his brother's voice. Felt his calloused fingers gently brush against his forehead. He tried to speak and leaned into the touch.

"Sammy? You with me?"

"Mhmmm." He forced his eyes open and saw his brother's face hovering over him. He smiled slightly. "'M right here."

"God, you scared the hell outta me little brother."


"Little John Dean is doing just fine."

"Good. 'M tired, Dean."

Dean laughed. "I imagine you are. Sleep, dude. I'll be right here when you wake up."

Sam huffed softly. "Just like always." He let himself drift into comforting darkness.

"I can't believe you were serious about this."

Sam looked at his brother and smiled from his place behind the steering wheel of the Impala. His staples were out and he was healing well. It would be a while before he was able to hunt, or even practice, but he was alive and he had a son. He still couldn't believe that, or how adamant he'd been on going through with it after finding out that he was pregnant just six months ago. It all seemed like some weird dream, only he had a kid and one hell of a scar to prove that it wasn't. "A promise is a promise, Dean."

"I said I'd go see her if you died, Samantha. You're still breathin'."

Sam huffed. "Don't sound so disappointed."

"You know what I mean!"

"I know you want to go, no matter what you say. I have a kid now and I don't want JD growing up alone. He needs someone to take care of."

"So I just go up to Cassie after not seeing her for two damn years and say, hey let's reproduce? Seriously dude? I think being pregnant has sucked your brain dry."

Sam chuckled at that because sometimes he swore it had too. "Look, maybe it won't work out, but there's really only one way to find out. Lots of hunters have families. We can keep them safe."

"Nobody's safe."

"True. And life's short. So why let what might happen stop you from living? What if something happened to her and you never got the chance to try?"

Dean huffed and crossed his arms tightly over his chest. "I hate you."

Sam grinned broadly at what was basically an admission of defeat from his brother. "I hate you more." He cleared his throat. "Uhm, Dean?"


"Think we should try to find her? JD's mom?" He glanced nervously back at the sleeping baby.

"Eyes on the road, geek boy!"

Sam's head snapped around. "Sorry. So should we?"

Dean gave him a measured look. "Just as long as you promise not to try to give the kid a little brother."

The End... ?