Addison Winchester (Now Completed)

Chapter 22

I looked at my father from across our poor excuse of a dining room table. It barely fit two comfortably and that's just me and Spencer who happens to be a lot smaller then John Winchester. The pizza box sat open on the counter three quarters of the way empty. Even though my morning sickness is mostly gone I still prefer pizza to anything else. Dad didn't have any issues with it so that was out dinner, growing up food was something that us Winchester's rarely fought about, it might have just been the fact that we didn't know anything better then diner food but I liked to think of it as a family trait.

"Tell me more about your dreams." And just like that the comfortable silence was gone, not that it had been that comfortable. I swallowed the piece of pizza I was eating and looked down at my paper plate, I still haven't gotten around to buying a real kitchen set. Dad wiped his mouth with a paper towel

and rubbed his hands together before crumpling it up and tossing it on his own plate.

"What do you want to know?" He gave me a look but he answered me non the less.

"When did you start having them?" I licked my lips as I thought over the answer, I guess I was quiet for to long because I could practically feel my his face harden.

"The first time I remember dreaming about him, it was after the first time you came back to the motel all bloody." I pushed the paper plate away from me and crossed my arms.

"Him?" He suddenly looked even more serious then he did before if that were at all possible.

"I don't know who he is, he just, he's always in the dream. He always says 'mother like daughter' or something like that." I shrugged, closing my eyes trying to shut his voice out of my mind.

"Why didn't you ever tell me?" He exclaimed, leaning forward in the small wooden chair.

"Dean always said not to talk about it because it made you angry! Not to mention I just thought it was something I made up, I was two! How the hell could I remember something that vivid at two years old?" I shook my head.

"You should have said something about it, for all we know this bastard has been messing with you this whole time!"

"I'm sorry. it's not like I enjoy having nightmares where I get burned alive on the ceiling above my kids crib." I said bitterly. Dad took a deep breath.

"Has it always been you...has it always been the same dream?"

"No, when I was a kid he would just be standing at the edge of whatever bed I was sleeping in. After I started staying with Spencer it was him getting burned then after it got pregnant…it was me." I stood up and started putting the pizza in the fridge without asking if he was finished.

"Have you told Spencer?"

"He knows I have nightmares but I haven't told him what about." I tossed out the plates we used and started cleaning up the rest of the mess.

"It's not going to happen." He assured me.

"You don't know that!" My voice was a lot louder then I meant it to be and the sound echoed off the kitchen walls. I'm really starting to feel bad for our neighbors. "You can't know that." My tone was softer this time and I felt my shoulders hunch over. My back was to him but I knew when he started moving towards me.

"I wont let it happen." His hand rested over my shoulder and I leaned back against him not caring if it bothered him.

"It's not something you can control, no one can control it. The only thing I can do is be prepared."

"And we will be."

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"He wont let you carry a gun?" Dad asked harshly as I sorted through the clothes on the maternity rack. His questions brought several nervous and I shushed him.

"God Dad, ask a little louder. I don't think the rest of the mall heard you." He gave me an unfriendly look, one that I ignored. "He says I need to get a carry permit before I start walking around with a weapon. He doesn't want me to get in trouble, that's all."

"You wouldn't get caught."

"Not it I didn't need it. If I pull out a gun and use it on someone and I don't have the proper paperwork stating that I'm allowed to carry then I can git just as much, if not more, trouble then the man or women that I needed to shoot." I did my best to quote Spencer exactly in order to get his thoughts across.

"I'd rather you be in trouble and the other person be injured or dead then you be injured or dead."

"I'm working on getting the paperwork, once that goes though then all parties will be satisfied." I nodded my head and pulled a dark shirt off the rack. "what do you think about this one?"

"It's a shirt."

"You're such a big help." I rolled my eyes but put the shirt back on the rack.

"Since when did you start caring about what you wore?" He crossed his arms and looked around the colorful store filled with pregnant women.

"Since I was giving the choice." I grabbed another shirt and didn't bother asking his opinion. He ignored the comment and continued watching the store and the people around us. He had slept over last night after my little outburst. I'm not entirely sure where our relationship sat in Hell but it seemed to be making its way out of the pit. Part of me was glade he was still here but the other half was waiting for the other shoe to drop. When I was with him he never spent much down time in between cases, so this whole thing doesn't make that much sense to me. I almost wanted to ask him but I didn't want to start another fight.

"So, you know which kind you're having?"

"Which kind?" I raised my eyebrows at him and started heading to the dressing rooms.

"The kid, boy or girl?"

"We don't know. At my last appointment the baby wasn't in the right position for them to tell us, we're going to try again before I leave for California." That seemed to satisfy him. "How do you feel about being a grandpa?" I risked a glance at his face and did my best not to let my smirk show. I heard an odd sound come from him but it was nothing that I knew how to describe. "Come on, we all get old."

"I'm not old, you're just having this kid young." There wasn't anything but cold hard fact in his voice.

"That maybe true but you're still going to be a grandpa, nothing you can do about it." I shrugged and opened the only unlocked room. I handed Dad the extra clothes without his permission and moved in the smaller room.

"I didn't agree to this."

"I don't care."