Title: Nothing and Everything

Chapter 4

~~~~~~~~~~

Sam followed Dean to a table in the cafeteria, unable to hold back a tiny smirk. Really, it was sort of funny. Dean fainting? That didn’t happen every day. It happened…never that he could remember. Surely Dean expected Sam to tease him about it just a little? He’d certainly give Sam grief if roles were reversed. “You fainted?”

“It was low blood sugar,” Dean said for the fifth time, setting his tray on the table with a thump and shooting an annoyed glare at him. “I haven’t eaten in hours. Could’ve happened to anyone. Still a bit woozy from it.”

“But you fainted.” He pulled out a chair and sat. Oh, the mileage he could get out of this if he chose!

“Passed out,” Dean corrected, sitting as well. He looked haggard, stubble darkening his jaw and dark smudges beneath his eyes, yet at the same time, it was a good type of haggard.

“It’s the same thing, Dean.”

“Is not. Fainting is a girl thing. Passing out from hunger is entirely different.”

“Uh-huh. Did Jo faint? She’d probably eaten less than you.”

He mixed the puddle of gravy through the mashed potatoes. “No.”

“And you did.” He ate a bite of sandwich and asked the question he was dying to know the answer to, “What was happening?” Or rather, what was the real reason Dean had fainted because he didn’t buy the low blood sugar excuse. Maybe it could be true, he just didn’t think it was.

“They held up this…thing. Man, it was,” he held up his hands, making gestures like he was feeling around a large, roughly oblong object, “…bigger than the baby. I swear it was. The thing was huge and,” he held up a finger, “I’ve seen some disgusting things in my life, but that?” Dean emphasized with his raised finger. “Seriously the grossest, nastiest thing --”

“Oh, you mean the afterbirth,” Ellen said cheerfully, joining them. She was just as haggard as Dean and showing every year of her age. “Placenta.” She cut into her Salisbury steak with gusto.

“And it came out of my wife. I’m traumatized.” Dean looked down at his plate of Salisbury steak, mashed potatoes and gravy, and overcooked green beans with a disgusted grimace. “Maybe I’m not hungry after all.”

“Don’t feel bad, sweetie. Birth is one of the most disgusting things on the planet. I remember when I had Jo, Bill wouldn’t shut up about it. He went on for a month after about how gross it was.”

He poked the meat with his knife and fork a moment before cutting it into bites. “But that minute when I got to hold him…. Man, it was….” He looked at both of them, a tiny grin tugging his lips. “I’m in love with my baby. Sounds strange to say, but totally true.”

Sam ate slowly, watching Dean, noticing a change in him already in the hour since the baby had been born. There was a gleam in his eyes, more than a hint of anticipation for this new direction. The fear Sam had been seeing was, if not gone, then far less than it had been. Dean was well and truly happy. Ecstatic even and charging forward to face this new future.

It made a warm sensation of gladness spread through Sam. He wanted to see Dean happy and know he had the life he’d wanted. It fascinated him to watch the changes come about and feel an answering tug inside himself for those same things. He couldn’t wait to see how Dean and Jo were going to handle the baby and the job together, feeling almost like he was holding his breath about it, his own anticipation rising. If Dean and Jo could blaze this trail and prove it could work, then maybe….

He forced himself to push on with that thought. If they could do it, maybe he and Gwen could as well. Maybe Ellen was right and some day in the future he’d look at Gwen and know it was time for one of those rings he’d given her or another.

Dean stopped eating and stared at him, gaze moving over him in that perceptive way Dean had. Even in the midst of his own joy at present, he’d noticed Sam was thoughtful. “You okay, Sammy?”

He tried for nonchalance and shrugged. “Yeah, why?”

Dean’s eyes narrowed a fraction. “You’ve got this weird look on your face.”

“Weird?” He waited, but Dean didn’t elaborate. “Like weird how?”

“Just weird.” He picked up the salt shaker, salted the entire plate and went back to eating. “Why don’t you spill now and save me the trouble of trying to get it out of you later?”

He sighed. “I’m just thinking is all.”

Ellen didn’t say anything, merely glancing back and forth between them.

“Thinking about what?”

“It’s not important.” Besides, he could see Gwen going through the line and if he started talking about her and the future, she’d come in right in the middle of the conversation and he wasn’t ready to have another conversation with her on the subject, let alone talk about it to them. He flicked his gaze back to Dean, who’d paused with his fork halfway to his mouth.

An amused light grew in Dean’s eyes and he shot a quick glance at Gwen. “I think I can guess. Has to do with a certain ornery miss headed our way.”

“You’re like a book on her sometimes, Sam,” Ellen said and sat back, shoving her empty plate away and setting her coffee cup directly in front of her on the table. “One that’s wide open and in large print.”

“I am?”

Ellen nodded. “To those who love you and know you best, yup.”

“Oh. Good to know.”

Gwen joined them and when they’d all finished eating, they returned to the maternity ward to visit Jo and the baby.

~~~~~~~~~~

Fainting was just as embarrassing as Dean had always imagined it would be, but eating had helped. He no longer felt woozy and dizzy, confirming in his mind that it had been a combination of hunger, stress, and maybe standing with his knees locked straight.

“You feeling better?” Jo eased back into bed as though her entire body ached. It likely did, Dean supposed. Birth had been a more strenuous process on her than he’d realized even after having read those books on it.

“I’m good. Just for the record, the Salisbury steak here is awesome.”

“I wouldn’t know. I had chicken and rice.”

He carefully picked up their baby. “Jack.” Dean tried out the name in whispers as he held the baby, taking a few minutes before Sam, Ellen, and Gwen came in. “You really like the name, Jo?”

“I do. I would’ve said before if I didn’t. You know that.” She adjusted the hospital gown at her neck. “I hate hospital gowns. Never fit right.”

He looked at her, trying to convey with a glance how much he appreciated her appearance. “Not flattering to most, but may I say, Mrs. Winchester, you rock that look.” She’d think he was lying or just flirting, but he really did think she made the gown look good. Dean moved closer and handed Jack to her, brushing his mouth to her ear and whispering, “We should get one of these to have at home. I’ll be the doctor if you’ll be the patient.”

Her cheeks flushed. “Tease,” she breathed back at him.

Dean stood up and held up six fingers. “Six weeks and then….” He shrugged his brows several times.

Jo giggled. “I’m so looking forward to it.”

The nurse who’d brought Jack in returned. She was young, her name Amy, and Jo seemed to like her. Her smile was cheerful. “Ready for the first visitor? You’ve got three, but they can come in one at a time, stay for a few minutes. Don’t want either of you getting overtired the first day.”

Sam was the first to come in, uncomfortable in the sterile gown. Dean could see that in the minute changes in his expression and in how he shifted his shoulders. The suggestion that he hold the infant brought a flash of panic in his eyes and Sam shook his head.

“No, thanks, I’ll hold him plenty back at the house.”

“I don’t mind you holding him, Sam,” Jo said with a smile. While Dean had been getting some food in him to stop the lightheadedness, she’d had a shower, a light meal, and a twenty minute nap to get her through having visitors. Her hair was wet and neatly braided. She looked exhausted and peaceful at the same time.

“I’m fine.”

“If you’re sure….” The fingers of Jo’s right hand slid along the blanket wrapped about Jack.

“I am, thanks. For having had so many hours of labor, you look good, Jo. Not like you’re about to drop at all.”

“Liar.” Her smile widened into a grin. “I look tired.” Her attention lowered to Jack.

Sam looked at Dean and sat back in the chair. “Congratulations. Who would have thought --”

Nurse Amy stepped outside, the door thumping softly closed behind her.

“A year ago. I know. This is wild, Sam. Whole new ballgame. New game, new rules.” He glanced at Jack. “I just don’t want to be like --”

“You won’t,” Sam interrupted before he’d even gotten the entire thought out. It didn’t surprise him that Sam knew the direction his thoughts lay. Sam would know. “Different situation from the start and while you may be like him, you’re not him. You’re you and you’ve got me, Gwen, Bobby, and Ellen along with Jo to be right there with you.”

“I still worry about it.” He did, too. He worried that if something happened to Jo he’d go off the deep end in grief and end up toting Jack around like his dad had them.

“Dean, you’ve proven so many things wrong that you thought were true just in the past year and a half.” He shot a long glance at Jo and Jack. Jo wasn’t paying any attention to them, smiling down at the baby. “That’s something right there and Jo won’t let you be like him.”

“Huh?” She looked up. “I won’t what?”

“You won’t let Dean be like dad,” Sam told her.

Her smile slid away into a thoughtful frown, gaze shifting from Sam to him. “Is that what you’re worried about, Dean? That you’ll be like John?”

He admitted it with a slow nod. “I am like him.”

She blinked several times, obviously taking care to choose her words wisely before speaking. “Dean, your dad was a man driven by grief and emotional pain and while you do have the potential of that in you, if some similar situation were to rise, you wouldn’t be alone in it like he was. Sam would be right there. Gwen, mom, Bobby…probably even Castiel and Abigael, maybe other angels. You have support and family your dad didn’t have. Your life is different. There’s no comparison.”

Nurse Amy returned.

Jo cleared her throat. “He was a good man. Remember that and forget the rest. There comes a time when we have to do that. Our parents aren’t perfect, none of us are, but I don’t see the point in holding on to the bad. It’s over, done, decisions were made by an imperfect man. He did the best he could and so will you whatever happens. I know this as a fact. I see it every day. I’ve never seen you give less than your best, even when you’re pretending you don’t care or feel like you just can’t do it, you still manage to. I’m not worried. You’re you.” She shifted Jack a little in her arms. “Maybe you are like John, but that doesn’t necessarily have to mean something bad.”

Sam sat forward. “Well said, Jo.”

She shrugged. “It’s true. You two get so torn up over him and he was doing what he thought was best in a series of bad situations. Maybe his choices were right, maybe they were wrong, but you’re both here. You’re alive and good at your job, not to mention you’re both awesome men. I think John did one helluva a job raising you in spite of adversity. Who’s to say we could do better in that situation?”

She always gave him something to think about. Just when he thought he knew what she was thinking, she said something that made him stop and look at something a new way. “Who’s to say,” he repeated.

With a glance at the door, Sam pushed to stand. “I should let Ellen and Gwen come in.” He touched Jo’s shoulder with one hand. “Gwen and I will get the room ready tonight so all you have to do tomorrow when you get back is put him in his crib.”

“Thanks, Sam.”

He left and Ellen came in a moment later.

She cried when she held Jack and teared up more when she looked at Dean and Jo, moving past dainty tears to just plain bawling. “You know, back in Carthage, all these thoughts went through my head of things Jo would never get to experience, so this…this….” Her chin trembled.

“You don’t have to tell me.” Jo bit her lip.

Had Jo had thoughts of her own like that as she’d sat on the floor of that store dying? He knew he’d had thoughts then that he’d never get a chance to find out if they were a good fit, but had hers gone past that to moments like this? Had she seen the life she’d, at that point, never have flash before her?

He felt teary himself at the remembrance of Carthage and though the ache from it had been negated by Zachariah’s actions and Jo and Ellen’s return to themselves, he still felt the emotions caused by that day. It still made him sad to think about that day.

“You’re a mama now, Jo, and I’m damn glad to see it.”

Emotion passed between mother and daughter, but Dean had no time to feel the slightest bit left out or that he was witnessing a private moment, because Ellen handed Jack back to Jo and came to him, grabbing him into a tight hug that squeezed the breath from him.

“Thank you, Dean,” she whispered, pressing her cheek to his.

“For what,” he asked.

Ellen drew back and cupped his face in her hands. “For making Jo whole again. For being everything she ever wanted and giving her the world.”

The nurse crossed the room and placed a fresh pitcher of water on the table beside Jo. “You’re a passionate family,” she commented.

Jo looked at her. “Mom and I were in a bad accident a few years ago and we almost didn’t make it. Dean helped put things back together. He…he mostly put things back together for me. Without him I’d be lost.”

He swallowed hard at that reminder.

With a sigh, Ellen released him. “I need to let Gwen visit and then I’m heading home for a nap and a shower. I’ll be back in a few hours.” She left.

From the doorway came an amused voice. “So, what does Batman call his son?”

“Bat baby,” Dean suggested as she moved from the doorway to the bed. “You want to hold him?”

“Twist my arm.” She held out her arms to take Jack and while she’d claimed to have held a baby only rarely, she did just fine, showing no fear of taking him. She touched one hand with a finger. “He’s so tiny.”

Wonder played on her face and, in a single second, Dean saw the longing in her eyes and in how she touched that little hand. Gwen wanted this for herself. She wanted to be a mother, too. Good luck convincing Sam, he thought. She might have quite a wait for motherhood.

She glanced at him. “You did pick a name, though, right? Something halfway normal? Tell me you’re not naming him Aloysius or Tiberius.”

“Tiberius is a classic,” he told her.

Gwen snorted. “You don’t pick your kid’s name from Star Trek or a Preston Child novel, Dean. I don’t care how good either is.”

“No stranger than what some of the stars do.”

“We named him Jack,” Jo informed her, reaching for a cup on the table and taking a long drink of ice water. “And not after anyone, so don’t believe him when he claims we’re honoring Jack Nicholson.”

“Good name. Nice and normal.”

“And it’s baby approved.” Dean stretched his legs out. “He kicked every time I said it.”

“Not every time,” Jo corrected.

“Every time,” he talked over her just to watch her roll her eyes.

Gwen grinned. She stayed longer than Sam or Ellen and appeared reluctant to leave. “I guess I’ll leave you two to bond with your baby awhile. We’ll all be back tonight sometime.”

He wasn’t far behind them, leaving so Jo could take a longer nap than the twenty minutes she’d had, and promising to return right after dinner.

Dean sat in the Impala for a long moment before starting her. It was over. The birth was done and now…. Now they had to figure out just how to do their job and still raise their child.

~~~~~~~~~~

One night without a nightmare. It would have been an answer to prayer if Gwen had slept more than a couple hours at a time all night. As it was, she’d barely had time to slip into a dream cycle before she was waking up hoping for news on Jo. She’d slept with her head on Sam’s lap. She didn’t think he’d slept at all.

She was washing her hands at one sink in the restroom when a figure appeared beside her. Her heart seemed to skip a beat before she recognized Abigael.

“I apologize for the customary angelic arrival.” Abigael leaned against the wall. “You should be aware that I’ve dealt with the problem from yesterday. His memories of your location are buried deep. I doubt very much he’ll regain them anytime soon. I also took the liberty of tweaking the newest symbol on the house.” She tucked her hair behind her ears. “You should all be relatively safe from him for awhile. Long enough to research how else you can deal with him.”

“Thank you.” She dried her hands on a paper towel and threw it away.

Abigael glanced at the ceiling, then around them. “Gwen, you initially chose to ignore the information about your birth parents. May I ask what’s changed?”

“I’ve been having nightmares, bad ones, that center around Aaron’s murder. I thought if I find out more about him, they might go away or lessen.”

“Oh. I see.”

“Where did you start your research on him, Abby?”

She glanced back up at the ceiling. “Everything you need to search is right in front of you. I left it for you to find if you were of the mind to go down that road. If you really want to see it, it’s there.”

“I don’t…. Where? What?” There were a ton of things that could be considered right in front of her. Did she mean a file, a case, something in the Campbell archives? Or something entirely different? What?

“At the risk of being too cryptic….” She took a deep breath. “All that glitters certainly isn’t gold. Look around, Gwen. You’ll find the first breadcrumb. It is right beneath your nose.”

“Where? At the house? At Bobby’s or Ellen’s? Is it --”

Abigael shot an annoyed glance towards the ceiling. “I’m sorry, Gwen. I dislike being the typical angel, but I have to go.”

She was gone, just like that, leaving Gwen to wonder where to start looking and reflect once more that Dean was right. Angels were frustrating creatures, even one who behaved more human than the rest.

~~~~~~~~~~

Sam’s evening visit went much the way the afternoon visit had, but he still declined to hold Jack. How could he explain why he was reluctant? He knew he’d hold the boy sooner or later and knew he’d become used to it quickly, yet he wanted to prolong the time until that first moment. He wanted to hold off on the attachment he knew he’d develop. How could he not develop one? It was inevitable. If something happened….

He went to the waiting room.

“I have a proposal for you two,” Ellen motioned for Sam and Gwen to follow her.

“What’s that?” Sam took Gwen’s hand in his as they walked down the hospital corridor. When they turned the corner, Ellen put out a hand to stop them.

“You two should take a week or two, stay somewhere else.” She glanced behind them in the direction of the room. “Let them have time with the baby, just the two of them.”

“You want to throw them in the deep end without lifeguards,” Gwen translated.

“Be good for them.” She crossed her arms. “Trust me. Dean and Jo need to experience baby’s first week home by themselves and…you’ll thank me. Newborn baby? Not much sleeping gonna be going on, at least not by them. Don’t let either one of them talk you into stayin’ either. It’s the fear of being alone with the baby talking.”

“I’ll talk to Dean about it.”

An hour later, when Gwen was in visiting with Jo and Jack, Sam took Dean down to get some coffee. “So…. Gwen and I’ve been thinking. You and Jo, you need time together with your baby and we thought we’d stay at Bobby’s for a couple weeks, keep working on the file Jo had going, help Ellen take the passwords off the database pages.”

“Dude, you’re not leaving. We need all of us there. It’s non-negotiable. I need you there. Jo needs you there.”

Sam shook his head, smiled, and shrugged. “I don’t think either of you do. I think you and Jo should spend a week or so focused on your child and only on your child. It’s an important time for the three of you --”

“You sound like Ellen.”

“She’s right.”

“She put you up to this?” He snapped a lid on his coffee cup. “Man, I need you at the house and Jo’s gonna need Gwen to help her. You’re important.”

“Nice to hear that, Dean, but I think it’s more important that you and Jo have the time with Jack to get to know him. Learn about his personality, find out what feeding schedule works best, things like that. Do all those parent things. Read stories to him, have Jo sing to him, things like that.”

“He’s a brand new person, only been born a few hours. What kind of personality could he have possibly developed from birth until now?”

Obviously, Jack did have a personality. He already displayed impatience when he was hungry. Rather like Dean come to think of it…. “All I’m saying is you should have privacy together to enjoy the first few days as parents.” He lifted his cup from the counter. “Besides, I plan on making Gwen scream my name really loudly and it might wake you, Jo, and the baby. You all sort of need sleep.”

“Now there’s the real reason,” Dean muttered, “and one I can get behind. Fine. Go take a week or two and sex up your girlfriend.” He reached out and smacked his hand against Sam’s shoulder. “Take her to Vegas. Hit the casinos, see if you can’t beat our winning streak.”

Considering the Tricksters interest in her, he didn’t think that was a good idea, especially since Las Vegas appeared to be his locale of choice. “I was thinking more along the lines of staying fairly local.”

Like staying at Bobby’s house as Ellen had suggested and working on the file and website.

Tonight however, since Dean was staying at Ellen’s due to her house being closer to the hospital than their own, he had a little something planned. As soon as he and Gwen stepped inside the house, he set that plan into motion.

While Gwen was in the bath, Sam made dinner, which consisted of heating up a bagged frozen meal, tossing a bagged salad with precut vegetables, and making sure there was still beer in the fridge. He put a cloth on the table (Ellen had brought it over once for a reason unknown to all of them), added a couple of mismatched candles to the center (one was scented, the other not), then headed into the bedroom to turn down the covers and get out the massage oil.

A nice romantic evening should relax her and once she was so relaxed she was falling asleep, he coax the story of her nightmares from her.

He put his iPod on the dock and started the long play list he’d created for times like this. Gwen appreciated his taste in music in a way Dean never had, probably because her own taste was rather eclectic. She’d listen to soft rock and heavy metal back to back and see nothing odd about it.

Preparations complete, he sat on the couch and waited for her to finish her bath.