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The Chronicles of Ellie Singer

"It's just a quick one, I promise," Ellie's eyes narrowed at him as she remembered how many times he'd said that before, only to be gone for weeks. She didn't want to be played for a fool again. Dean would often conveniently find 'quick' hunts to run off to with Sam; especially when there were PTA meetings, school trips, and cleaning jobs that needed doing.

She turned to Sam with a wave of simmering anger. He might as well have flinched as her fierce eyes met his. He would choose a wendigo any day over an angry, heavily pregnant Ellie. Her swollen finger lifted to him, "I want him back before sunrise, I don't care what it takes or what you have to do. You will both be up, bright and early, because I promise you this; if you miss your niece's eighth birthday, then you will wish the vampires had turned you," Sam gulped and nodded nervously. She was more terrifying than any demon, or monster they'd faced.

Dean walked over to her, slowly removing the accusing finger from Sam's direction. He soothed her hair and tried to whisper sweet nothings to her, but her eyes were fixed on Sam. The look rivalled their wedding when he had to be the one to tell her that Dean was still blackout drunk from the night before.

"Baby, baby look at me," it took a few tries before Ellie turned to him, still furious. Her cheeks were deep red, and her nostrils flared. "The nest is a few towns over, and I can't sleep knowing they're this close to my girls. I have to do this," he said, rubbing a thumb over her red cheeks. Everyone talked about pregnancy glow, but all Ellie seemed to get were red patches the further along she got.

"We had a deal," she argued. When Ellie became pregnant with Mary, they both agreed he could keep hunting and working until she couldn't see her toes anymore. It was a useful compromise. It kept Dean from dying of boredom and meant he couldn't piss off his wife. At 6 months, Ellie could just about make out her toes over the bump.

"I know baby," he said softly, taking her hands in his. Dean rubbed a finger over the gold band around her fingers, smiling at it. "But if we don't do it, who will?"

"There are plenty of hunters out there! Hell, throw a knife at our address book and three will come up. It's her birthday tomorrow," she gestured upwards towards Mary's room. The girl was probably snoring by now, dreaming of her perfect princess party - even Ellie found herself looking forward to it, especially since she wouldn't have to lift a finger all day. Pregnancy had to have some benefits.

"And I will be there bright and early with one of those cream cheese and pickle bagels you like," he started grinning from ear to ear as he watched her crack. She groaned at him and stomped her foot. Those bagels had been a lifesaver this time around. The last pregnancy made her crave raw onions, which made everyone uncomfortable. She would bite into an onion like a juicy red apple. Sam avoided the house for months.

"...and pretzels,"

"And pretzels-"

"Salted ones, with the peanut brittle too!" she said again, finally smiling. It was hard to argue with him, especially when he knew the right bribes to offer. He hugged her as comfortably as possible, avoiding the large bump.

"I love you," he said softly, pressing a kiss to her forehead and gently swaying her from side to side.

It didn't matter how many hunts he'd been on, leaving was getting harder and harder. He wasn't 23 anymore, he didn't have the edge he used to. Hell, the man was getting a bigger beer belly than she was. But he couldn't give it up, he couldn't settle yet. It was always 'one more job' or 'just a quick trip'.

"I'd love you more if you stayed," she said with a muffled huff. Dean pulled away, bending down to her belly to talk to his son.

Dean did not have favourites between his 8-year-old and the unborn baby, but he certainly paid more attention this time around. "Now you're the man of the house while I'm gone..." he said in a gruff tone. Ellie rolled her eyes as he told the infant to keep everyone safe and not keep Mommy up all night with hiccups again.

Sam couldn't help but laugh, enjoying the utter bizarreness of it. None of them had planned for the picket-fence-slice-of-apple-pie life, but here they were. Seeing Dean talking to his son; seeing him mow the lawn, hammer roof shingles in, and do grocery shopping was still one of the seven wonders in Sam's eyes. Ellie was another, a miracle in itself. He'd watched her go from a machete-wielding maniac to a carpool mum who cooked dinner on Sundays for the whole family.

"Sam," she said as Dean fussed around her belly, "I mean it, no matter what. Both of you come home, okay?" She might have said both, but Sam knew what she meant. No matter what, Dean needed to come home. She needed him. The kids needed him.

"Yes ma'am," he replied. He saw the deep breath Ellie took, the weight lifting from her shoulders as she relaxed. She trusted Sam. Sam wouldn't let her down. Dean was still talking to her belly, pressing his face against it as if hearing a reply. Ellie rolled her eyes again.

When Ellie finally kicked Dean out for being overbearing, they set off in the Impala. She managed to wave from the door with a tea towel in hand, making sure she saw them head down the road. She stayed there until the tail lights were distant blurs, still rubbing her belly soothingly. "He'll be back before you know it," she cooed. It was more for her than the baby. The boy kicked her in return, jabbing at her insides as she closed the front door.

The hours passed slowly. They all blurred together like one long empty, silent hour as Ellie pottered quietly about the house. She couldn't sleep. The baby wouldn't stop kicking at her.

Ellie tried to read, thinking maybe it would calm them both, but the Kindle quickly gave out on her. She even tried washing up. The task was difficult enough since she shared a house with two grease monkeys who refused to eat anything but burgers and pizza. Then there was the added difficulty of trying to do it whilst being stood two feet away from every counter and the gloves stored in the bottom cupboards. She swore that if she dropped something on the floor in her third trimester, she didn't need it anymore, it wasn't worth the backache.

"Please stop kicking," she whimpered as a foot caught her ribs. Her breath felt sharp for a minute like needles were digging in with each inhale. Ellie groaned deeply as he continued to aim for her vital organs. "I swear this boy is part alien, any day now he'll burst from my stomach in a fleshy-mushy mess..." she said to the empty kitchen. She found herself doing that more often, talking to herself. She had the right answers to all her own questions.

"Shhhh," she wheezed, soothing the bump with a firm hand. "You better behave when daddy gets home," she hissed at him. The boy was definitely going to be a handful, he never listened to her. He refused to leave her alone, whether it was kicking, hiccuping, or making her sick in the afternoons - perfectly timed for the school run. But as soon as Dean was nearby, he'd settle. He was going to be daddy's boy, that's for sure.

Ellie summoned her mommy voice, hearing her father as she spoke, "If you don't pack it in, I swear to Jack, I'll name you Bobby John..." The kicking slowed down, "...then you'll have every kid from here to Santa Cruz bullying ya," she could have sworn the boy huffed indignantly. She sighed in relief. That threat was a secret weapon. Dean loved the name, seeing nothing wrong with it, despite both Sam and Ellie arguing against it. Dean also liked Dean. Jr and Ben, both were immediately vetoed. He'd already picked Mary, everyone agreed that Karen was too much of a curse to bestow upon their daughter.