Note: Song at the top is for listening to while you read. If y'all would like to, that is :)
Episode: Season 15 - Carry On Pt. 7
Nine Years Later...
I groaned to myself, crumpling up yet another piece of paper before heaving it towards the wastebasket in the corner. It, of course, bounced off the rim only to land in a heap of other balled-up papers lying around it on the floor. Sticking my tongue out at it childishly for a brief moment, I went back to my work. Snatching up another blank sheet from beside me, I started again, pen poised at the ready.
But for some reason, the words just weren't coming out right. I guess I was never meant to be a writer, always being better at hunting supernatural creatures instead. But still - I wanted to write this out. I never wanted to forget any of it, not one single moment I had with my boys. Even if it had all happened so, so long ago now.
Suddenly, the sound of tiny feet on a hardwood floor grabbed my attention. I just had time to glance up when a small body collided with my leg followed by the sound of even larger feet. Almost like a moose tromping into the living room.
Sam's eyes were apologetic for interrupting me as he began to pry tiny fingers loose of my pants leg but I waved him off with a playful smile.
The small child of four giggled as I swung him up into my lap, peppering kisses over his face, strands of soft brown hair falling across his forehead. His eyes blinked up at me, hazel-brown with tiny flecks of green and a wide smile that matched my own.
It was five years after Dean passed that I admitted to Sam I wanted another child. Sam was more than happy with just having Roman but I know he put that aside for me, in the end not minding having another baby at all. Especially if it would make me happy. And even Dean, if he was somewhere looking down on us, on our lives.
A small part of me, in the very beginning, wondered if I was betraying Dean - by going back to Sam like this. But I knew in my heart that we had grown up so much from those kids we used to be. And that a part of me had always and would always love Sam, although not in the all encompassing and intense way I had loved his brother. Dean's words of "be happy" still rung in my ears, never letting me forget.
I knew, deep down, that Dean would much rather us be happy together then desolate at his passing apart, trying to console ourselves in the arms of strangers.
Dean always wanted the best for the two of us - always.
As for my babies, they had made good lives for themselves as well.
Yasmin, the only child I was to have with Dean, had decided to follow in her father's footsteps, choosing to stay hunting and protecting people. "The family business" needed to keep going she said. Roman, on the other hand, opted out briefly of the whole supernatural world and applied to Stanford University, his dad's Alma Mater, earning a degree there before eventually returning to hunting. I think it made Sam happy, although he wouldn't outright admit it.
But still, very often my mind wandered to what-if's. What if Dean had lived? What if we had finally gotten that apple-pie life we'd always dreamed of having? Would we have had more children? Would we have been happier? Grow old together?
The latter thought made tears prick my eyes but I blinked them back, pulling little Dean closer to my chest.
Some things just weren't meant to be, though.
Sometimes loss happened, grief even. And it was tragic, mind-numbing. There was nothing you could do to change bad circumstances. All you could do was the make the most with the time you were given.
I think we did that, me and Dean. Even though we lived through atrocities, we still lived our lives fully. And we loved fully.
Nothing I ever had experienced in my life was truer or more pure than the love I had felt for Dean Winchester.
A smile tugged at my lips then with the remembrance of my memories with my true love and suddenly, I knew exactly what to write. The words came easy then, flowing through me and onto the paper.
"Eugh, I hate that shirt!"