Chapter Text
"Be soft. Do not let this world make you hard. Do not let the pain make you hate. Do not let the bitterness steal your sweetness. Take pride that even though the rest of the world may disagree, you still believe it to be a beautiful place." ~ Kurt Vonnegut
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Summer, 1987
In the heart of the countryside of Kansas, there is a road. Not many know it is there- even those who were born and bred throughout many generations still pass by the exit every now and again. The dirt has been pushed down further into the solid earth by the same tires, rotated with every start of the season and changed with each new owner of the same bloodline. Mom and Pop stores line the main road, always closed on Sundays to ensure that family values hold steady and that time is spent together on the day of rest. The main road reaches out to gravel that melts into a highway about five miles out. The sign that acknowledges the town’s existence is faded from the sun and overgrown with weeds and brush.
This is the type of town where there is one elementary school, one junior high school, and one high school even though the population is small enough for every student to fill one of the three buildings. The nearest hospital is a forty-five minute drive out, going the speed limit, that is, and if you’re looking for something other than a Wal-Mart, you’d better be ready to drive a good hour at the least. This is the town where grass grows freely and wild, covering broken down tractors and their rust with new life. The houses are a solid walk away from each other, but the neighbors are as close as kin.
Now, if you turn off that highway and make your way down the dirt road and travel a good ways past the edge of town, you would come across a little blue farmhouse with a white front porch. Two rockers sit to the side of the door and flowers line the drive. The shutters are new and the fence has a fresh coat of paint, and when the postman comes around at two in the afternoon, the mailbox will be filled with cards of congratulations for the expecting parents that call themselves the new homeowners. Or at least it would be if it were not Sunday.
Rather than worry themselves with the hustle and bustle of their busy lives, the couple brushes away the hours with domesticity. Outside, the leafs bask in the glorious summer sun, the abandoned chicken coop is nestle away in the back yard lazily, and a black 1967 Chevy Impala sleeps in the drive.
Inside the sun-tinted kitchen, the young bride dances around a hand-me-down table and chair set as her husband stands in the doorway and admires her silently. A soft light spreads itself over the cool tiles of the kitchen as a gentile breeze plays with the curtains fastened on the window above the sink. The little cuckoo clock in the hallway chimes, alerting everyone in the house that it is noon as the sultry voice of Sam Cooke is swept into the kitchen from the living room to tickle the toes of the young woman hustling around gracefully. Her floral day dress swishes around her legs and her husband cannot help but let a small laugh escape him as he crosses his arms and leans against the doorframe.
“John, have you seen my pink platter? The one that looks like Depression glass? I know I just saw it but I can’t remember where.” With a sigh, John Winchester made his way into the kitchen and picked up the platter from the table, holding it up in front of his face to show his wife. She smiled, kissed his cheek, and took the platter from him with a simple southern thank you glance.
“What can I do to help, Mary?”
“Oh, I see how it is. Now that all the baking is done he comes in to help. Well if you’re here to sneak a sample, you can kiss that thought goodbye because these are for the new neighbors.” Mary was too wrapped up in her pies to notice thick arms wrapping around her.
“I bet I can change your mind,” challenged John. Before Mary could answer, she was being swept off her feet as her husband twirled her around the kitchen in an uncoordinated dance. They stepped on each other’s feet and almost bumped into a chair once or twice, but Mary thought that even Cinderella couldn’t have been as happy as she was in that moment. They came to a slow stop back over by the sink where the pies were cooling on the windowsill, the record coming to an end and pastries forgotten. John kept Mary in his arms, hands on her petit waist. Her smile was contagious, and he never wanted to go a day without seeing it. God, did John Winchester love his wife.
“John, sweetie, you need to let go of me. Those cookies aren’t going to stack themselves.”
“Only if you sit down for a little bit,” agreed John as he walked over to where the cooled pastries were laid out on the counter. “I’m serious, Mary,” he said as he pointed to her with a spatula. “Now, don’t get me wrong, I love how much you’ve been baking lately, but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re pregnant. You shouldn’t be on your feet this long.” Now it was Mary’s turn to roll her eyes as she sat down and watched her husband work.
“Well it doesn’t help that you’re so intent on dancing with me,” she mumbled.
“I like to dance with my wife,” was John’s cookie filled mouth reply. He turned to the counter and began his work stacking as Mary hummed to herself, continuing the song that had ended moment before. Just as John was stuffing the last bits of corn muffin into his mouth, being careful as to not let any crumbs fall around his sock covered feet, he felt the familiar touch of his wife’s hand gently batting his own. Forced to lower the muffin, he looked at her with sad eyes as if to beg for one more bite.
“John Winchester, you can have the rest of your muffin later. The neighbor’s car just passed by and I want to make sure we don’t miss them. Now come do you duty as my husband and get the door for me please.” John gave a closed mouth smile and nodded. He could never say no to his wife, nor could he win an argument against her. She was just too damn cute when she got flustered and angry- it was one of the reasons why he fell so madly in love with her all those years ago in high school. Life had thrown them many curveballs over those years, what with John going off to war and Mary staying behind, working multiple shifts as a nurse in order to earn enough for a house when he returned. Every day during those years came with uncertainty and fear, but no matter how hard the times got, they always found their way back to each other. The letters got lost in the mail, coming out of order and sometimes not at all. Mary cried alone in her childhood bedroom after her parents had gone to sleep, thinking that she couldn’t keep going like they had been for much longer. John took up drinking and often found himself being torn away from another member of his division when he became too drunk, yelling about how he wanted to go home and be with his wife. It was long and stressful and heartbreaking, but one day in May, Mary walked out into the waiting room of the hospital to see him standing in the doorway, clad in his uniform, clutching a sad bouquet of flowers and trying not to cry.
They married not long after and settled outside of the city where they had grown up. Finding the farmhouse was a Godsend. There was enough land for John to work on his cars as well as for Mary to plant her gardens. They worked on fixing the place up for weeks upon weeks, determined to do everything themselves, and when they finished, they went out to back yard. They were covered in paint and dust and dirt- hands calloused and hair out of place. They washed each other off with the hose as the sun set, and laughed with closed eyes and open mouths as John spun his wife around the fresh grass until the bottoms of their feet were black and sore. They made love that night under the grand oak near the property line, not caring that the abandoned lot next to them wouldn’t be welcoming forever.
Naked in the other’s arms, they looked up at the night sky, violent with stars. Mary’s breath hitched when John kissed her neck, galaxies exploding above them as they became a mess of moans and sweat, passion and fury. The rising sun warmed their bodies the next morning. John took his wife by the hand and handed her his flannel to cover herself with. They walked back to the house hand in hand, flowers of all colors creating a pathway as they got closer to the kitchen door.
Once inside the kitchen, John sat Mary down in one of his father’s chairs and washed the bottoms of her feet, causing her to giggle and kick his arm playfully. They stayed like that for some time- John kneeling between his wife’s legs and she looked down at him, a worn flannel draped over her shoulders and pulled tight between her breasts. It had been two years since that day, and almost three months since they found out their family would be expanding. Soon they would be spreading out picnic next to the gardens with their baby, rolling across the fresh cut grass with a toddler, and then washing the feet of a cranky first grader at the end of an endless summer day of playing under the grand oak. They named the piece of land “Caelum,” meaning Heaven, or happiness, and it was just that.
As the memories played in the back of Mary’s mind, John picked up the platter and balanced it like an expert on one hand as he held the door open for his wife. The smell of lavender and clean cotton whirled around the couple as they made their way past the clothesline and over to the fence that stood between the two properties by the grand oak. A few minutes of walking was all it took to reach the gate when one strolled at leisure, but if his mind was made and set, a man could carry a tray of goodies over to the property line in a minute or two.
As the Winchesters reached their side of the fence, they heard a faint noise come from the other side. Upon further investigation, they could make out the whispers of a small child talking to himself. John looked over to see who the voice was coming from and cleared his throat, getting the attention of a small boy with golden hair, playing with a plastic fire truck in the uncut grass. The boy tilted his head to the side as John’s shadow fell over him. Freckled cheeks and a sunburnt nose complimented his golden eyes and unruly hair. The boy blinked a few times before nodding his head in a determined manner, clearly coming to a conclusion about the strange couple.
"Ma! Pa! There's someone here for ya!" His voice was high and squeaky, and from the sound of it, he has a slight lisp, almost a whistle with certain letters. When he turned his head back to smile at the strangers, his upper lip covered his teeth, and if Mary didn’t swoon over the little tike, well, something would be very wrong with the world. He stood up and unlatched the fence door, stepping to the side to let John and Mary in. A man with dark hair and a salt and pepper beard walked towards them, hands in his pockets and a cigarette hanging loosely from his thin lips. When he stopped in front of them, it was easy to tell that his hair was pulled back into a ponytail, curling at the ends. His nose was crooked as if it had been broken once or twice, and his eyes were aged but still held a sparkle.
John reached out his hand with a smile. "John Winchester. This is my wife, Mary." Mary stepped forward and shook the man's hand after John.
"We just wanted to come and welcome you to the neighborhood," she said with a warm smile.
"Well thank you," said the man with a slight southern accent. He extended his arm, inviting them in to his yard. "My wife should be right out. She was just finishing something up inside. Name's Cain Shurley. Please, come and sit." His extended arm stretched out to a patio set off to the side of the house a small sprint away. “Come along now, Gabriel.” They made their way to the set and Cain brushed off the floral cushions- his wife’s choice by the face he made as he worked.
The three adults took their seats, the small boy selecting to sit in the flowerbeds and further dirty his grass-stained pants. “You’ve already met Gabriel. Fair warning, he’s a little trickster. If he ever asks you to pull something or look in a closet, don’t.”
“Hey!” Six eyes turned to see a red-faced pout angrily glairing up at them. “You can’t tell them that! Now they have one up on me!” He crossed his arms and looked down at the ground, his back cowlick bouncing as his bobbed his head once to emphasize his annoyance. “I guess this is just gonna make it more of a challenge though.” Cain ruffled his son’s hair as he mumbled.
“Now, Gabriel. Be nice to our new neighbors. Introduce yourself before your mother comes out to lecture you.”
With a heavy sigh, Gabriel stood up, his pudgy tummy popping out from the bottom of his shirt. “Hello,” he said, drawing out the ending. “I’m Gabe. I’m four years old!” The little trickster held up four tiny fingers to show John and Mary. “Ma’s in the kitchen with Cassie making me chocolate milk!”
“You have a little sister?” Mary asked enthusiastically, bending down to be eye level with the toddler. Gabriel was just about to answer when the screen door slid open. Mary sat back up to see a woman with bright red hair giggling and carrying a glass of milk.
“Not quite. I’m Anna, Cain’s wife.” She handed her son the glass, red and white striped straw perfectly bent. She raised a brow as Gabriel blew bubbles over the lip of the glass, but made no comment on it. “And this here,” she said as she rubbed her very pregnant belly, “is Castiel.”
“If it’s a boy,” chimed Cain. Anna sat down in the chair next to her husband. “You’re so sure it’s going to be a boy, Anna. I don’t want you to be disappointed if the baby’s a girl.”
“I know it’s a boy, Cain. I can tell by the way he kicks. It’s just like Gabriel all over again. And when he arrives at the end of September, you can be expecting an ‘I told you so’, okay?” Cain grunted in response, rolling his eyes as Mary scooted closer to Anna.
“How wonderful! We’re expecting a little one as well. Not until January, though.” John placed his hands on his wife’s shoulders, titling his head in so that their foreheads touched ever so slightly before pulling away at the disgusted noise that came from the toddler.
"So, Gabriel," began John, only to be interrupted by the small child with chubby cheeks who insisted that he call him "Gabe." All he could do was laugh and agree. "Alright, Gabe. Are you excited to be a big brother?" Gabe shook his head dramatically.
"I'm gonna teach him how to pull all of the good pranks. He's gonna be my partner in crime, and then, if we get caught, he’s gonna be the one to take the blame or get Ma to forgive us!"
"Gabriel!"
"What, Ma?" Anna simply shook her head and sighed.
"I'm hoping that Castiel will be better behaved than Gabriel," she teased.
"We both are," commented Cain in a joking yet loving manner. Gabriel pouted again, only to smile when John took the platter down from the table and offered it to the boy.
"Thanks, Mr. Win…Winchest…Winchesthair!"
"Winchester, Gabriel. Not Winchesthair." Gabriel blushed at his father's correction.
"Sorry, Pa. Thanks, Mr. Winchester." Gabriel took a chocolate chip muffin off of the platter and practically swallowed it whole. The next half hour consisted of Cain and Anna explaining that Gabriel had the worst sweet tooth in the world, and how they moved due to atmosphere. It had been a dream of theirs since before they met to live on a farm. Anna asked Mary if they had a name picked out for their baby, to which she answered that they were going to go with "Dean" or "Deanna," a namesake for her mother who had recently passed, but they wanted to be surprised when it came to the baby being male or female.
Time slipped away from the neighbors and before long, Gabriel was curled up on Anna's lap, sound asleep. John and Mary returned to their home after inviting Anna, Cain, and Gabriel over for dinner the next night. John, in all good fun, had offered to side with Gabriel and his pranks- not very mature for a future father, but fun nonetheless. The next night, right before dinner started, they tag-teamed and tried to scare Cain with a plastic bug. Cain, being the good father he was, played along, pretending to be frightened as the wives laughed from inside the kitchen as water boiled for pasta primavera. They ate outside, the cool summer air a relief from that past few humid days. John and Cain managed to go through a six-pack, and when Gabriel asked if he could try some, John told him that it was icky and that they were only drinking it so that he and the mothers wouldn’t have to. Gabriel didn’t believe him but dropped the subject anyway.
After dinner Mary brought Anna upstairs to show her the nursery while the husbands watched cartoons with Gabriel. The ladies fussed about, going through the little things Mary and John had picked up already.
“I know that it’s a little presumptuous, and that we want to be surprised, but we both think it will be a boy. The Winchester bloodline is famous for only having boys.” The walls were painted a light blue, almost a robin’s egg, with an eggshell trim and cream curtains. Simply painted pictures of classic cars and sailboats in matching frames hung on the walls. “We’ll get more things when the due date gets closer, and if the baby turns out to be a girl, we’ll pick up some mermaid prints to hang up in place of the cars.”
Anna walked over to the oak bookshelf and looked at the pictures of Mary and John’s parents. She rubbed her belly and soon found Mary standing next to her.
The two women stayed in the nursery and talked about Gabriel when he was a baby, as well as how exciting it would be to have their babies grow up together. It was eight o’clock when they walked back down the stairs. They found Gabriel curled up and sleeping in John’s lap on the sofa, Cain snoring in the recliner next to them with his hands on his chest. This was the kind of thing they lived for. Perfect nights where peace was wrapped around them.
The summer continued to be filled with late night conversations on the patio of either couple's residence, muffin baskets being passed back and forth with various recipes, and lots of chocolate milk.
The Forth of July was made into a big celebration, everyone gathering in the Winchester's back yard and lighting sparklers, drinking sweet tea, and setting off small fireworks. In the few weeks that had passed since the Shirley's arrival, the families had become best friends. It made perfect sense to them. Both had babies on the way, both had much in common (from John and Cain's taste in music to Mary and Anna's love of cooking and baking, to Gabriel and his sudden interest in whatever one of the adults was doing), and both spent what sometimes felt like every waking hour in the other's company. On Sundays, they would have breakfast in the Shurley's kitchen surrounded by light blue tile and white cabinets. Dinner would be at the Winchester’s, and on the first Sunday of the month, Gabriel would be presented with the opportunity to pick what was for dinner, which resulted in spaghetti and hotdogs with lemonade.
The school year was starting and Gabriel was bouncing up and down by the front door. His shaggy hair flopping around his little face and his bright red backpack far too large for his short form. Everyone was standing around him taking pictures. It was his first day of kindergarten and his big, lopsided, toothy grin was speaking for itself.
“Hurry up, ma! I’m gonna be late for my first day!!” The adults laughed at Gabriel and his snarky pout. The little trickster was going to go places on his personality alone. Anna kissed him on the cheek and John and Mary hugged him to wish him luck. Cain ruffled his hair as they walked to the car. September first was starting to be a wonderful day. When Gabriel got home with his stories of school and coloring and snack time, all ears listened enthusiastically. In the middle of a bite of ice cream, Gabriel looked at his mother.
“Hey, Ma? When Cassie’s born, is he gonna be able to eat ice cream with me? With sprinkles and chocolate syrup?”
“Not for a while, sweetie. But when he gets older he will be. And guess what? So will Mary and John’s little one.” Gabriel perked up, putting down his spoon and pressing his head to Anna’s tummy after she had removed the melted ice cream and forgotten sprinkles off of her son’s mouth and chin.
“When’s he gonna come out? I’m tired of waiting!”
“Soon, sweetie. Soon.”
Castiel was born on September 16th. Mary marveled over the baby boy and his pale skin, dark hair, and bright blue eyes. Gabriel became very protective, telling anyone who went near his baby brother that he would pull the ultimate prank on them if they did anything to hurt him.
"I can't tell ya what it'll be, but I can tell ya that it'll involve whipped cream and last week's trash. I'm not afraid to go out back and get it!" The now older brother pointed at everyone in the room and tried his best to make an intimidating face. Cain picked up his eldest son and carried him away from John, helping to free his pant leg from a tiny yet intimidating grip. When Gabriel had been put down for a nap, John and Cain went out to the backyard to fire up the grill for burgers, leaving Mary and Anna alone in the kitchen.
"So what made you decide on the name 'Castiel'?" asked Mary. Anna picked up her mug and took a sip of her tea.
"My family was very religious. It was a tradition to name the boys after angels. I suppose it continued even after my parents passed. My brothers, Michael and Balthazar, they don't keep in touch. Well, Balthazar used to come around for holidays, but that stopped some time ago. The last time we…chatted…he told me that he was running off to Italy." Anna smiled down at her mug. They had never talked about her parents before. They hadn’t even seen pictures. Mary reached over and hugged her friend, unable to imagine what it would be like to not have a relationship with her family. A little noise came from the play yard in the living room. The women made their way back into the living room and Anna picked up her baby boy.
“Hey there, little one. Mommy’s here,” she cooed as she bounced Castiel in her arms. His bright blue eyes squinted as his smile grew. “So, are you and John…? I don’t mean to pry, but I saw the angel in the nursery and I’ve heard both you and John whisper ‘angels are watching over you’ to your baby.”
“We are but we aren’t. We have faith and we pray, but we aren’t really ones for going to church.”
“That’s how we are. It feels almost ironic, carrying out this tradition of names.”
“I think it’s sweet. It’s something that you can share with the rest of your family, even though they aren’t here anymore.”
“Thank you, Mary. I’m so happy that we got you and John as neighbors. I was worried when we uprooted that we would end up being ‘those’ people. The ones who don’t make friends with the families around them. I just wanted Gabriel to be able to make some friends, and now he has and Castiel will have someone his age to grow up with as well.”
“We’ve got a nice little conjoined family here, don’t we?”
“We do. And who knows? Maybe if the Winchester curse is broken and you have a little girl, we might become a family in more than just one way.” The ladies sat down on the sofa and rambled on about Castiel and how cute he was until he cried, letting Anna know that it was feeding time. Mary held her hands to her belly and rocked slowly, comforting her unborn child. That’s how John found her- rocking and humming “Hey Jude” alone in the living room. He sat down next to his bride and kissed her cheek, joining in on her humming.
In time, the leafs began to change and fall to the ground, littering the farmlands with oranges and reds and yellows. Gabriel had taken to jumping in the large piles John and Cain had spent hours raking, but the men didn’t complain. Instead, they told Gabriel that he could only jump if he helped rake them up after he made a mess. Gabriel obliged, and that is how Anna and Mary found themselves giggling over Gabriel flailing his arms as he tried to hold the large rake.
On October 31st, Gabriel went to school dressed as a homeless man, proudly holding a sign that read, “Will Work For Candy.” Since they lived a bit away from town, John and Cain offered to take him closer to the school district so that he could go trick-or-treating while Mary and Anna stayed at home and rested. Both men dressed as hobos as per Gabriel’s request. Mary and Anna took picture after picture. When they returned home that night, Gabriel proceeded to throw up twice, earning both men a lecture on how they shouldn’t have let him eat as they walked around, as well as on the ride home. The next morning, however, Gabriel asked if he could have chocolate chip and candy corn pancakes. He was very disappointed when oatmeal was placed in front of him.
Thanksgiving came quickly and Gabriel was adamant on naming the turkey Bartholomew. No one questioned the small boy. Bartholomew was eaten at the Shurley’s residence and everyone went around and said what they were thankful for. Mary was showing quite a bit, and the adults couldn’t get enough of feeling the baby kick.
If Autumn was beautiful on the farms, Winter was Heaven. Mounds of snow built up naturally across the cascading fields and the grand oak was wrapped in layers of snow. Winter birds chirped and flew around the snowmen Gabriel had built during the snow days, and fuzzy socks and flannels were a must for everyone. When they could, Mary and John would make the walk over to the Shurley’s via the path that John and shoveled after the first snowfall. Hot cocoa was made and Christmas movies were watched. Gabriel wrote a letter to Santa and made sure to include a gift or two for his little brother. The adults tried to tell him that a baby couldn’t possibly eat candy just yet, but Gabriel said that only Santa could decide that.
It was the night after Christmas and a snowstorm had hit the countryside. John and Mary were cuddled up in their bed, their hands on Mary’s baby bump and smiles plastered across their faces.
“This time next year Santa would have come.” John hummed in agreement with his wife. “John, what if a storm comes when the baby’s born? What if we can’t get to the hospital?”
“Don’t worry, Mary. I’m going to do everything I can to make sure that you and the baby are okay. I promise.” He kissed her forehead and turned the bedside lamp off. That night they both slept peacefully, tucked away in their little corner of happiness.