Dean’s got five months. He was never big on the ‘breaking the deal’ bandwagon but now he’s really not.
“Dean…”
“Sam.”
They’re packed. They have their jackets on at this point. Dean really doesn’t know what Sam expects. He’s not going to change his mind.
“You sure about this?”
“For the last time, yes.”
“You really going to tell her the truth?”
“Still haven’t decided yet.”
---
She cries, which he really didn’t expect. It’s scary in a way. He holds her on her living room couch until he’s pushed away. She punches him hard, twice, in the shoulder. She calls him a ‘stupid asshole.’ That’s more like it.
---
They have breakfast – homemade waffles, bacon, scrambled eggs with cheese – and after she asks, “You sure this is how you want to spend your last days?”
---
He shocks her. Again. Then again when he doesn’t say “Vegas is only a days drive from here.”
The justice of the peace is middle-aged woman who smiles fondly at them.
Cassie’s wearing jeans and a purple sweater with sleeves that come to her knuckles. Dean’s in jeans, too, with a gray Henley that’s still holding on.
She feels his callused palm against her own and feels grounded.
---
She didn’t expect to be sitting in the back fields of her mama’s house, blanket on the ground, backs against a tire with the stars overhead, drinking Jack and Coke straight from the bottle and can.
They didn’t discuss where to settle down or when to get a new couch. Or other stuff young, lovers in love should. But they’ll talk about this, at least she’ll try.
“Favorite name for a boy.”
He takes a swig of Jack first. “Max or Cash.”
“Girl.”
“Barbarella.”
She laughs because of course it is.
When he turns to her, whispers against her hair, “You would look so hot barefoot and pregnant” she calls him a caveman. He says she loves that about him.
---
It’s pretty fucking stupid. Three and a half months and she’d be done, left only with memories and a few tangible things.
She firmly believes a woman doesn’t get pregnant unless she wants to. So yeah, she wanted, too.
When he notices the additional weight of her breasts in his hands, the new curve to her belly, there’s more than a flicker of sadness in his eyes. He smiles anyway. It makes her realize just how scared she was of what he’d say.
---
When Sam comes back alone reeking of the earth, blood, sweat and grief, she hugs him fiercely anyway.
---
The more time passes, the twitchier Sam gets. When Sam leaves, she doesn’t tell him not to do anything stupid. It would be pointless. He’s got that look in his eye. He’s got to do it, whatever it is. He wouldn’t say.
He promises to call every day and that he’ll be back before she pops. He says he’s sorry and trust me. He looks at him like he’s crazy for saying such things.
---
The doctor says everything’s moving along. It’s her first so could be early, late or right on time. Not like it matters. As much as she wants her back to stop hurting and to stop contemplating moving into the bathroom until her due date because things would be easier that way, she’s not ready. She’s not as strong as she thought.
---
A watched pot doesn’t boil but she sits on the porch anyway some days, most nights, waiting for that familiar rumble.
Two days to go and she finally does hear it. Finally sees it's black shape come into her field of vision.
She thinks the heat is getting to her because she can see him. But it’s like looking at the road as you drive along on a hot summer day, all hazy yet shimmering bright.
Because she knows what she knows – anything is possible – she doesn’t touch him because she wants to see if he’s real.
---
He doesn’t look exactly like her. Sure he’s going to look sunkissed and have dark curls she’s going to hate to cut. His nose and cheeks and mouth is all her, too. But he’s got green eyes and freckles across his nose and cheeks. Still her mother says, “He looks like you but is going to be just like his father,” a big grin on her face like nothing could be better. Cassie did what was expected, rolled her eyes in protest. Sam just laughed like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard in his entire life. Then patted her arm and said, “I’m so sorry.”
Dean doesn’t say anything because he probably didn’t hear a word of it. Too busy in his own world, just him and Max.
