Mother Mary.



It was one of those rare November days when it seemed that Summer had blown her final vestiges of warm breath onto the world, giving the humans one last day of brilliant sunshine before Winter came along and demanded his due time.


The young woman lifted her face to the sun relishing its warm caress.

The chuckle of glee from her baby son brought her gaze back down to the child in the push-chair. He was agitating his chubby arms and legs like a mad windmill, a bubble of drool forming around the baby's pink lips.

"Mom, look at Sammy," the blond child at her side called out in glee, pointing a finger at his salivating little brother.

""Mm, I think Sammy's going to grow up to be a real drooler, Dean," Mary smiled.

She was ever amazed at the attention four-year old Dean paid to his little brother.

Chatting with other young mothers she had been told stories of the jealousy that had flared up in their first-born at the arrival of a new baby but Dean had never shown the slightest sign of it. From the moment Sammy had come into the world, he had adored the baby as if it was some god to be worshiped.


She remembered the first time she had let Dean hold him.

He had been overwhelmed, perhaps more so that herself and John, at the miracle of this new warm bundle of life he was cradling in his young arms.

She had been amazed that the baby had seemed to turn his eyes towards his big brother although she knew that it was too early for the moss-green eyes to focus properly, and she had been equally surprised at how the baby seemed absolutely at ease in his big brother's arms.

Before Sammy was born she had let a fascinated Dean place a hand on her abdomen to feel the baby's movements, and at times she got the impression that he was communicating silently with the baby that was growing inside her.

It had been slightly disturbing in a kind of way, as if Dean was waiting for the baby to be born because it meant something more to him than the normal curiosity for the arrival of a sibling. He was never in any doubt that it would be a little brother, the idea of it being a girl pooh-poohed away whenever she or John jokingly suggested it!



She wiped the baby's mouth and continued on her way towards the local park. She had been coming every day, when the weather had permitted, sitting on a bench watching contentedly as Dean played with the friends he had made over the months. He would run back now and then to take a quick look at his little brother as if it was his duty to keep an eye on him.

She shook her head amused, after all she was looking out for Sam; maybe Dean didn't trust her!


"Mom, when will Sammy be big enough to play with me here in the park?" he asked.

"He'll have to learn how to walk before, he starts to run around like you, sweetie, You're going to have to be patient for a while yet."

The baby cooed adorably and agitated his little arms towards Dean, as if impatient to start walking and running after his big brother.

Dean nodded, elaborating the information, gave Sammy tickle on his tummy and ran off back to the others, his childish enjoyment warming Mary's heart.


She had never been so happy.

This was the life she had always longed for; a husband, kids, a home.

Sure it hadn't been all sunshine and roses; a month ago she and John had had a blow-up and her stubborn husband had stomped off leaving them for a week, after which he had come back, his head hung in shame, begging her forgiveness for being a stupid stubborn idiotic son of a bitch, asking her to take him back.

She had said yes. She loved him.

The sweet, gentle John Winchester she had married however, had tuned out to be a very complicated man. She knew he loved her and the children to bits, but at times his stubbornness overwhelmed him and made him act like a dumb-ass!


She pushed away any negative thoughts, the day was too beautiful. She waved cheerily to a friend of hers as she approached with her little girl, and for the next couple of hours she dedicated herself to discussions on teething, colics, and all the things so important in the conversations between young mothers.


The afternoon sun had begun to cool sending a cold shiver down her spine, so she gathered up Dean and made her way home.

She had planned a special dinner for John tonight and well, afterward, when the children were packed off to sleep, she had plenty of ideas on how to continue the evening, just her and sexy husband!

Sammy had taken to sleeping the entire night now, and that left her and her and John more time for other matters.




The warning, that a young man she had met years ago at her parents' home, had given her, never came to mind; it had been forgotten, or more truthfully it had been pushed down into the strong-box where she buried her unwanted memories.

Perhaps if she had remembered, then the tragedy that was to take place that very night could have been avoided or at least limited in some way, but the young vibrant woman with the two beautiful children had taken her last walk in the park, and her children had lived their last day of a life they would never have again, going from one of love and joy to one of pain, hardship and heart-break.


The only positive news that one could have given to the unfortunate mother as she entered her home for the last time, destined to die that very night burning in agony on the ceiling of the nursery, was that her two children would love each other in a way that would bond them together for ever, one ready to die selflessly for the other; two souls that because of that love would overcome everything that evil could throw at them. Two men that would have made any mother proud.