Mommy Winchester

Part 4

"Can we talk?" Dean asks softly, and you glance over at him from where you wash the dishes for dinner, which Sam and Dean had invited themselves to stay for.

"About?" you frown, letting the water start to drain from the sink.

Dean had been tense ever since Crowley had made the little Winchester comment, and you knew exactly what was on his mind.

But you didn't want to talk about it.

Not now, not ever.

You glance into the living room, hearing a peel of laughter from Cail. He and Sam were sitting in the floor, playing some game; Sam had seemed to warm up to him over dinner, losing his standoffish attitude.

Cail seems to like him more now, and the two of them were keeping each other entertained as the TV plays in the background.

"You know what. Is there somewhere we can talk?"

You really don't like his tone.

You frown at him, slowly drying your hands, leaving the dishes in the drying rack.

He really wants to do this now?

Was it really the time?

But from the stubborn look on his face, you knew he wasn't going to let it go.

And you couldn't have this conversation in front of Cail, either.

You sigh, then nod, and motion for him to follow you. Neither of you speak as you leave the kitchen, trying to be quiet as to not alert your son, and you step into your bedroom, flicking on the light.

It was the only private place you had.

Dean steps in after you, softly closing the door behind him, watching you.

You were nervous.

You pace away from him, only turning when you had the trunk at the foot of your bed to separate the two of you.

He couldn't strangle you from this distance.

"Well?" you sigh impatiently when he doesn't speak, just looks at you, gazes around your room. "Go ahead."

"You told me he wasn't mine," Dean says after a moment, searching carefully for his words. "But you lied to me, didn't you?"

Maybe.

You just look at him, not saying a word, not knowing what to say.

"Why didn't you just tell me?" Deans voice is gruff, and he takes a step closer, so many different feelings rolling through his chest. "Why didn't you tell me about him years ago?"

"Because! I -." your throat closes on your words, and you clear throat quickly.

Well, the cat was definitely out of the bag.

Might as well go ahead and tell everything.

"Because I... I found out I was pregnant, and.... and when I looked for you, to tell you, I found Sam instead. And you... you were dead." you swallow the hard lump that seems to be permanently lodged in your throat. "Sam was burying you."

Dean is silent, gazing at you.

The timeline made sense, if you were telling him the actual truth this time. He wants to question you on it, though, if that kid out there was really his - but he can't.

He can't question it.

He knew the second he laid eyes on him that was his kid.

The resemblance was too much, it wasn't a coincidence.