I couldn't let the month pass without writing a little something to commemorate Dean's 30th birthday. So therein was the birth of this little snippet (pardon the pun). Consider it a belated birthday wish. :-)
All standard disclaimers apply.
And to The Earth Was Born
By: Vanessa Sgroi
"John, honey, we need to pick a name for our new baby son." Mary Winchester smiled up at her husband from her hospital bed before turning her gaze on the baby in question who lay swaddled in blue in her arms.
"What do you mean we need to pick a name? I thought we agreed on Samuel. You know—after your dad." A puzzled frown formed on John's face as he looked at his blonde-haired wife.
"I know, but…" she hesitated, her gaze flicking between John and their babe-in-arms, "honestly? He—He just doesn't look like a Samuel." Mary turned her wide, limpid eyes—her puppy dog eyes John called them—full force on her husband.
His own expression full of love and affection, John said, "Well, okay, he doesn't look like a Samuel. We already agreed no John Juniors. How about our second choice—Robert?"
Mary turned up her nose.
"How about your maiden name—Campbell. Campbell Winchester?"
"Ew, no. That's just too…pretentious."
"No. Why don't we name him after your father?"
A flash of distaste swept across John's face before quickly disappearing. "Absolutely not."
The new mother cooed nonsense at the baby and very gently ran her fingers through the blond, downy fuzz on his head. The baby rolled his head from side-to-side, smacked his Cupid's-bow lips, and sighed. "Thomas?"
Now it was John's turn to make a face. "Daniel?"
"Uh uh." Mary suddenly giggled. "I know! How about Horace? Or Archibald?"
John snorted and eased down on the edge of the mattress. "Oh, woman, now you're just messin' with me," he growled playfully. He reached out a tentative finger and ran it lightly down the infant's apple cheek. The baby raised a hand, teeny-tiny fingers curled into a fist, and waved it around.
Mary ran a hand through her long blonde tresses. "Yeah, I am." She blew her husband a kiss.
"Michael?" offered John.
"Michael? Hmmm. Michael," she was quiet for a moment as she contemplated then came a sigh. "No. I-I do have one idea though. But you might think it's…um…crazy. How about Dean?"
"Dean? You mean like after your mother, Deanna?"
"Yeah. Would that be way too weird? Naming him after a girl?" Mary watched her husband closely, gauging his reaction.
"Dean. Dean Winchester." John tried the name to see how it felt coming off his tongue. "I like it," he agreed simply.
"Really?" Mary beamed at him.
John reached over and took the baby from her arms, snuggling him close and jiggling him up and down slightly. "Yes, really. It's a good strong name. Dean Winchester it is."
The newly-christened Dean suddenly opened his eyes, blinked a few times and scrunched up his little round face. He started to squirm, a soft mewling accompanying the movements. The mewling soon turned to an all out cry then rapidly approached an ear-splitting wail. John looked at Mary, alarmed.
She smiled and held out her arms. "Here, give him to me. I think our little guy is hungry again."
John couldn't have handed Dean over any faster—new father terror having him fully in its grip.
Mary adjusted the top of her nightgown and pulled the baby to her breast, helping his rooting mouth to latch on just as the lactation consultant had taught her. As her son started to feed, Mary felt happy tears fill her eyes. She gazed down at her first-born. "Welcome to the world, Dean Winchester. I truly think you're destined for wonderful things." Feeling the warm arm of her husband come to rest around her shoulders, a feeling of wholehearted contentment filled her heart. Mary started to hum a soft lullaby.