Chapter Text
August 1998, Chicago, Illinois.
“No, I think I’ve got a handle on it. I’ll get cleaned up here and meet you in Little Rock in a few days,” John Winchester said to his oldest son over the phone. John was in Chicago, working on a case he had come across while driving through. The case was a usual, a nest of vampires hiding just outside the city. To make the case easier, he had decided to stay in an abandoned house near the spots where the victims had been attacked rather than wasting the money on another crappy motel room. He easily picked the lock and made a bed for himself. Much like his oldest son, he spent most of his nights off in bars, so he really didn’t mind the living conditions.
“Alright. I’ll see you in a few days. Bye Dean,” he finished, hanging up the phone. A noise at the front of the house caught his attention. From his waistband, John pulled his gun and as quietly as he could on the old floor, he walked in the direction of the door. He pressed the gun to the door and listened for more noise. It was silent. With his empty hand he turned the door knob and pulled the door open ever so slightly. Through the small crack John saw nothing, but as he started to close the door as he heard an infant’s cry. Lowering his gun, he opened the door fully and on his doorstep he found a baby wrapped in a blanket.
“What the hell?” John muttered to himself, bending down to look at the child. Taped to the blanket was a birth certificate. The certificate read ‘Mary Winchester’ daughter of 'John Winchester’. The mother’s name was left blank, and there was no sign of who her mother could be.
When the child’s cries became constant, John’s limited fatherly instincts kicked in. He picked the infant up and brought her inside the dark house. He racked his brain trying to think of who the child could be and whether she really could be his. Had he been in Chicago nine months ago? He looked back at the birth certificate. The infant, Mary, was a month old. Ten months. Ten months ago he had been in Chicago working a case.
“Mary?” he whispered when she had quieted. She cooed hearing his voice. Her small fists moved toward her face as she yawned. On an impulse John pulled out his phone. He quickly dialed his son and help the phone up to his ear, “Dean? I found another case. Yeah, I’ve got a handle on it. I’m not going to make it down there… Yeah… Good luck, Dean.”
John looked around the room at his few belongings. It had been a long time since he had had a baby, but he knew this was no place for her to stay. Keeping her in his arms, he gathered his belongings and carried them to his car behind the house. John drove to the nearest motel and booked a room. It was late at night, yet John found himself entirely unable to sleep. He had no idea what he was going to do about the little girl. He knew he couldn’t take an infant on hunts with him. He had already raised two children as hunters and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t regret it at least a little. He was suspicious of where the girl came from, but was not surprised that he might have fathered someone unknowingly. Either way, he knew he couldn’t just leave her on the doorstep of the abandoned home. Someone knew he was there and left her for him to find. He just needed to decide what to do with her.
Then, he remembered. He had a friend in Chicago that ran a foster home. When he was young, Dean had gotten himself into some trouble with a kid from the home. While John was trying to clean it up, he stumbled across a case. It was a simple solve, but the family was so thankful they offered to take care of Dean and Sam while John hunted. At the time, John turned them down, but now it didn’t sound like such a bad idea. He looked over at the little infant, who he had laid on the bed. Mary Winchester. He found it interesting that her mother had picked that name of all the names in the world.
The next morning he took the infant to the foster home just outside the city. He was pleased to find that Joe Spires, the owner, still remembered him. “John Winchester! I never thought I’d see you again,” Spires exclaimed, opening the door for John, “How are the boys?”
“They’re doing well,” John said as he stepped inside.
“What can I do for you?” Spires asked, glancing to John’s arms where the baby was. In John’s arms she looked miniscule.
“I was hoping I could take you up on that offer…”
“Whose is she? She Dean’s?”
“What? No,” John shook his head. The thought hadn’t even occurred to him that she could be Dean’s, “she’s mine… I think… and her mother’s gone.”
“On the job?” he asked, looking down at the girl.
“She left. Didn’t even put a name on the birth certificate,” John tried pulling the paper from his pocket, but couldn’t while he was holding Mary.
“Here,” Spires offered to take her, holding out his arms. John passed her over and pulled the paper from his inside jacket pocket, “What’s her name?”
“Mary.”
“Mary?”
“Mary Winchester,” John nodded, unfolding the paper, “that’s all it says. I found her on my doorstep last night. I wasn’t sure what to do.”
"Daughter of John Winchester,” Spires read, “it looks real enough.” He still held Mary in his arms. John stood quietly while Spires inspected the certificate and looked at the girl, “What do you want to do?”
“I want her to stay here,” John said as if he had decided that very moment.
“You want to put her in the system?” Spires asked in surprise.
“No, no, no. I want her to stay with you while I hunt. The road is no place for a kid. I should’ve taken you up on your offer to watch over Sam and Dean.”
“She’d grow up without her father and her brothers,” Spires pointed out.
“I want her to have a good life.”
Spires was quiet for a moment looking at John and then down at the little girl, “Let me ask what Amelia thinks,” He gave Mary back to her father and left the room to find his wife.
The baby cooed again, and John looked down at her. He felt guilty for the life she would grow up in, but it was better than life on the road. It would be better if she never knew him.
“John Winchester,” a woman’s voice came from the door Spires had gone through. John looked up at her.
“Amelia,” he smiled at her.
“It’s good to see you’re still kicking,” she walked toward him, “who’s this little one?”
“Mary.”
“She’s beautiful,” Amelia smiled, “her mother?”
“Gone. That’s why I’ve brought her here.”
“That’s what Joe said,” Amelia looked at Mary.
“Would you take care of her?” John tried.
“Under one condition,” Amelia said, giving him a knowing look, “you need to visit her.”
John was surprised, “Visit her?”
“At least once a year. She deserves to know who her father is, to know what a hero he is.”
John looked down again at the little girl. Deep down he knew Amelia was right. John knew that leaving her here and visiting once a year was the best option. “Deal,” John decided. He shifted Mary in his arms and prepared to hand her off to Amelia.
“Why don’t you hold her a little longer. These are precious moments you’ll never get back,” Amelia advised, turning her back to John and going to a bookshelf in the corner of the room. From the bookshelf she pulled a camera. John didn’t look up from Mary to notice that Amelia had taken a picture of the two of them. Amelia set the camera back as Spires entered the room.
“What did we decide?” he asked before drinking from a glass of water in his hand.
“Mary will stay with us,” Amelia smiled, “and John will visit.”
~~~~~~
“How’s school?” John asked a seven-year-old Mary as they ate in a small diner just inside the city.
“Good,” she smiled, mouth full of food. Taking another bite of her cheeseburger she got ketchup all over her face. John couldn’t help but let out a chuckle.
Every year for seven years John had come to visit his daughter, just as he promised. Mary was smart and she always had questions to ask her father. In only a few visits Mary had managed to convince John to talk about all three of her brothers and about hunting. Dean and Sam still had no idea about Mary. They also knew nothing about John’s other son, Adam. Mary, however, had pictures of all of them. Whether John could admit it or not, Mary had him wrapped around her little finger.
“Aunt Amelia said I’m the best reader she’s ever seen,” Mary continued, “and Uncle Joey said I’m smarter than he ever was.”
John chuckled again, “I’m sure you are.”
Mary gasped, “Do you have it?”
“Mary…”
“I wanna show you how I can read it on my own now,” Mary insisted. When John visited she liked to look at his journal. Obviously some things she wasn’t allowed to see, but John was open with her for the most part. Sometimes he would read the entries to her, sometimes she would just look at the drawings. Stories about her father’s hunts were like fairy tales to her. As far as she was concerned, John, Sam, and Dean were superheroes. From inside his jacket, John pulled a leather bound journal. Mary’s face dropped at the sight of it, “that’s not it.”
“No,” John agreed, “Dean has mine.”
“Oh…”
“This one is yours,” John said, sliding it toward her.
“Mine?” she asked excitedly, trying to pull the book from his hands. He pulled it away from her.
“Now Mary, you must take care of this,” John began, “don’t ever show this to anyone. Just like hunting, it’s a big secret.”
“I won’t tell a soul,” she smiled, thinking about the big responsibility he was giving her.
“And when you’re older you should add to it,” John finally gave the journal to Mary.
“Daddy, look!” Mary pointed out the window over his shoulder. John turned to see what she was looking at. Walking down the street and toward the diner was Sam and Dean. As quickly as he could, John threw some bills on the table and swept up Mary in his arms. She clutched her new journal tight to her chest as they ducked out the back of the diner. “Daddy?” she asked confused, eyes tearing up, “I wanted to meet them.”
John looked his daughter in the eye, but didn’t hesitate when he said, “I know, sweetheart, you will. They don’t know I’m here yet. I wanted to surprise them.”
“Oh…” she said sadly, looking back at the diner.
“Let’s get you home,” John decided, heading back toward the street. Mary didn’t argue as her father carried her back to his car.
They rode back to the foster home in silence. Mary still held the journal tight. Even at the young age of seven, Mary knew what her father was doing. He was lying to her. He didn’t want his other kids to know about her. John slowed to a stop in front of the house. He helped the small girl climb out of the car, and then she quickly ran to the porch.
“Mary, wait!” John called after her. She stopped at the door but didn’t turn to look at him. John jogged up to meet her. He dropped to his knees to look at her, “I’ll see you again soon.”
“You always say that,” Mary whispered.
“This time I mean it,” he tried.
“Okay,” Mary nodded, not fully believing him.
“Goodbye, Mary,” he offered a smile before standing, “I’ll see you soon kid.” Without another word he left Mary on the porch. John was surprisingly good at closing himself off from his daughter while still making her love him.
“Daddy!” she called after him when he had reached the front sidewalk. She ran toward him and wrapped her arms around him, giving him a big bear hug. John Winchester wasn’t exactly known for giving hugs, even when it came to his daughter, so he was a bit taken back by his daughter running into his arms. She let go of him and he offered her a smile before climbing into his car and driving away.
That was the last time Mary saw her father.
As John drove away, Mary approached the house only a little disappointed that she didn’t get to meet her older brothers. She looked down at her journal, vowing to take care of it forever.
That night Mary tucked the journal under her pillow for safe keeping as she slept. The house was quiet, and all that could be heard was the deep breathing of the children and the soft snore of Joe and Amelia Spires.
Early in the morning, before the sun had come up, Mary was jolted awake in a fit of coughs. She opened her eyes to a smoke filled room. She tried to stand from her bed but found the thickness of the smoke only grew worse. She got down on her hands and knees and silently prayed that help would come. Under her bed she spotted her old shoe box filled with the things she had collected from her father. She quickly took the box and threw her journal inside it before crawling toward the window.
When she got to the window she was met by another face and she jumped back in fear. The man wore a mask and motioned with his hands for Mary to back up. She shifted back, still clutching the shoe box tight. The masked man shattered the window and crawled through, stepping carelessly onto the broken glass. He lifted Mary up and crawled back through the window. It wasn’t until she was being carried down the large ladder that she realized who the man was. She saw the red truck and knew he was there to protect her.
Mary looked back up to the room she once called hers. Through the broken window she could see flames swallowing up her belongings. As she watched the flames she saw a dark shadow pass by the window. The shadow came back and stood in the window looking down at Mary. Just as Mary was about to tell the fireman, the figure disappeared right before her eyes. When they reached the ground, Mary was rushed to an ambulance and taken away from the home… for good.