He Looks Just Like You

Run. Go on. You better hurry. Run, run, run. His knees were scrapped, his jeans torn and ripped as he dived over a fallen tree and landed in a muddy puddle of leaves. It was after him. He could feel it. His heart was racing as fast as he was, his whole body aching as he sprinted away from the dark. He could hear maniacal laughing, splitting the trees around him as he tripped and cut his left cheek open on a razor sharp branch. His palms bled, scrapped on hardened earth. The dark brought cold. He tried calming himself, tried breathing. He rolled over, faced the oncoming death with fear.

Crying. He looked around. He could hear a baby crying, why? He felt the cool of bereavement stabbing into him, chilling his bones and causing his breath to mist in front of him. He couldn’t move. He needed to. Why was the baby crying? The dark swallowed him whole, the stink of decay assaulting his sense and choking him. Baby. He struggled, rolled to his stomach and fought to dig his hands into the dirt, drag himself to where there was light.

Blood. His lip dribbled it as pain swelled through his body. It was everywhere. So much pain. Please. He rolled, looking into the eyes of Hell. Its grin was burning, screams of souls long since torn apart telling him to run, get away. Go. You better hurry. Nightmares ripped his chest apart. Baby’s screaming grew louder as he shouted. Frightened. Baby’s frightened. He was freezing. So cold. So dark. Dead.

Light. She brought the light like a sword of justice to slice through the death that was ripping him open. Healed. She fought it back, eyes piercing blue as she protected him. Avenging Angel of mine. He was fading. Gone. Warm. She looked upon him, affectionate and loving. He knew her. She was smiling. He knew her. He was standing, back to back. Light. He wanted to see her but he couldn’t turn his head. Shh. You’ll wake the baby. Dean. Dean. The dark can’t hurt you. So precious. Shh. You’ll wake the baby, Dean.

He looked over a tiny crib. Moons painted on the walls. Shadows. But light. She watched him sleeping. Gave him dreams of rabbits and unicorns. Finger pressed to pleasant lips. Shh. You’ll wake the baby. Blood. Bleeding. Was it really light or was it worse? Sammy?

Dean. Check the baby!

He shot up, his chest heaving as he gasped in air he couldn’t seem to get enough of. He rubbed his hands over his face. Something was wrong. He looked to his hands then to his lap. Where’s my son? His eyes frantic, he jumped to his feet and was about to storm out when he felt a pair of eyes on him. And turned, looking to the bed to find Jeduthun watching him weakly with piercing blue eyes that chilled him but warmed him at the same time.

“Jed?”

“You were having a nightmare.”

“I didn’t wake you did I?”

“The nurse was checking my stats and felt since I was awake, that I should bond with our son.” She smiled weakly before looking down. Dean took a moment to catch on before he followed her line of sight and noticed the bundle of blue blankets held to her chest.

“Thank god.” Dean sighed before rubbing his face again, then stepped forward to stand at her side.

“I’m sorry about your shirt.”

“Huh?” Dean muttered causing her to laugh before she gestured towards his shoulder. Dean looked down then over before shaking his head and laughing. “Oh.”

“He was hungry. The nurse said it’s good for a mother to bond with her baby.” Jeduthun rested her head back against the pillows tiredly as the baby continued to drink. Dean stared, fascinated before clearing his throat and looking away. “It’s alright Dean.”

“I feel awkward.” He muttered. She laughed before patting a spot on the bed next to her. Dean waited a moment before climbing into the space next to her, his arms instinctively moving to hold her against him, her head resting on his arm as he kissed her forehead.

“He’s beautiful.” She smiled, her eyes closed as she rested.

“I was so scared Jed.” Dean muttered, his lips still pressed to her skin.

“I know. I’m sorry.” Her hand, the vein pierced with a catheter needle, moved up to take hold of Dean’s shirt. He gripped her hand in his, their eyes meeting before he kissed her. Really kissed her. He pulled away a moment later, his eyes opened to see her expression. She was so pale, her eyelids fluttering softly before she opened them and smiled. “I missed you.”

“I missed you.” Dean rested his forehead against hers, relief quickly swarming him.

“I was thinking, while you were sleeping.”

“Mmm?” Dean leaned back, looked over Jeduthun and felt something he’d never felt before. Had he? He’d thought he had once. He’d told that woman all about his life but she’d turned her back on him, she’d thought he was mad. But he’d told Jeduthun and she’d understood. She’d loved him anyway, no matter how crazy he’d sounded. She’d known he was telling the truth and she’d still stayed with him. So maybe what he’d felt before wasn’t this at all. Maybe this was really what love was.

“Mm-hmm.” She mumbled back. They’d always been able to speak volumes without having to actually say anything. “I think we should name our little boy. Our miracle.”

“Oh?” Dean thought it over before smiling. Yeah, this was what real love was. “I’ve got nothing. I’ve just got one request.”

“And that is?” Jeduthun asked, her eyes amused.

“Let’s not give him something that’s going to get him picked on in the school yard when he’s older.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea.” Jeduthun laughed, a movement that had the little baby jolt away from his meal and huffing because of it. Smiling, Jeduthun settled him back in place and let him go on suckling.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” Dean frowned, his eyes trained on the way his son was drinking.

“No. I always thought it would, but it’s nice.”

“Nice?” Dean raised an eyebrow.

“Its,” Jeduthun paused, sighing as she thought it over. “It’s beautiful. Being able to feed him so naturally, to be so close to him. It feels right.”

“Feels nice.”

“Yes.” She smiled again before resting her head on Dean’s chest.

“So, you were saying.” Dean prompted.

“Oh, yes.” Jeduthun woke from the tiny nap she’d fallen into before blushing, Dean didn’t know if it could actually be called a blush seeing as very little blood brightened her cheeks. “Now think it over before you object.”

“I’m not going to like this am I?” Dean frowned.

“Well I like it.” Jeduthun grinned before shaking her head. “Just mull it over.”

“Alright, hit me.” Dean shut his eyes and waited.

“John.” Jeduthun said simply.

“John?” Dean questioned, brow knit.

“Yes, after your father.”

“It’s kind of simple don’t you think? I don’t know, you sure you want to name our kid after my old man? Dad wasn’t exactly a saint.” Dean opened his eyes and stared at Jeduthun, who had suddenly gained this look about her, a look that he could only describe as a mama glare.

“I think it’s lovely.” She stated firmly. Way to go Dean, bring on the mama lecture. “And you should have a bit more respect for your father.”

“Hey,” Dean went to start but Jeduthun held up a finger that silenced him faster then any word could.

“I know you and your father never saw eye to eye on everything. I know you hated the way he treated you and Sam, but he did the best he could. And he gave me you.” Her face softened as she pressed her lips to Deans. “He gave me you and he died to give me you. Let me give him this. Please.”

“How can I argue when you look at me like that?”

“You simply don’t.” Jeduthun smiled. “You may be a lot older then me, and I may only be nineteen, but this time I’m right.”

“So, John?”

“John for short.” She nodded, her smile turning cheeky.

“For short, what’s for long?” Dean pressed.

“Johnathan Dean Winchester.” She clarified, her eyes wandering the room innocently.

“Dean?” He goggled. “You want to put my name in there?”

“Yes, you have a problem with that to?” The mama glare took over again and had Dean back peddling.

“No. It’s alright, I guess.” Dean nodded, secretly loving the thought, the idea of her actually giving their son his name, his fathers’ name. And the fact that she’d said Winchester and not Wesson just made his heart swell with pride, it made it real. “You don’t want to use any of your side’s names?”

“No.” She said immediately. “They wanted nothing to do with our little Angel when he was growing inside of me. I’ll burn in Hell before they get anywhere near him in life.”

“I’m sorry.” Dean sighed. “I’m sorry they treated you like this and I wasn’t there.”

“Dean,” she made him look up with just the tone of her voice. “I never blamed you. It was my choice. I wanted you out there, protecting others. Because with each monster you saved another family from, that made one less monster for little John to have to fear.”

“Little John?” Dean smirked.

“I figured he’d like Robin Hood more then Barbie.” She giggled before shifting to sit up a bit as Johnathan Dean pulled away and began to squirm. She held him to her chest, heart to heart and gently massaged circles into his back. Dean stared at his son over her shoulder, the little baby making ‘O’s with his lips as he dribbled. Before to long, he burped. Twice. Each time his little eyebrows rising at Dean before he squealed and blew spit bubbles excitedly.

“What a champion.” Dean grinned, strangely excited by the fact that his little boy had burped, good and proper. “Sammy will get a kick out of that.”

“Where is Sam?” Jeduthun smiled as John clenched his tiny fist in her hair and began tugging.

“I kind of,” Dean cleared his throat and laughed. “I kind of ran out on him.”

“Oh Dean, tell me you didn’t.”

“Just kidding?”

“You’re a terrible liar.” Jeduthun shook her head.

“I’m a fantastic liar.”

“Yes, but not to me.” She smiled before frowning, blinking against the black spots that suddenly began to cloud her vision. Her breathing turned ragged as her skin became slick with perspiration. Johnathan Dean began to scream as Jeduthun struggled to hold him up. “Dean,”

“What’s wrong?”

“Take John.” Her eyes were wide as her heart raced in her chest, her torso going tight as she struggled to catch a breath. Dean got up quickly, Jeduthun lying back so Dean could take the baby off her. He bounced John gently in his arms as he continued to scream, his face slowly turning red.

“What’s wrong?” Dean demanded; panic setting in, only to get worse when the heart monitors on the other side of the bed began to flash and scream as loud as John. “Jed? Jeduthun!”

“Dean.” Her mouth was open as she fought for air. She gripped Dean’s hand weakly, her grip loose as her other hand pawed at her chest. The curtain was thrown open, Dr. Miller rushing in as she demanded an answer for what happened.

“I don’t know, I don’t know.” Dean stepped out of the way, his arms wrapped protectively around Johnathan Dean. His son began to cry, fat tears staining chubby cheeks. Dr. Miller flicked a lever that dropped the bed into a flat position. Nurses rushed into the room as Dr. Miller jumped behind the head of the bed, gripped Jeduthun’s jaw to open her mouth and demanded an intubation tube.

“Jed, you’re going to feel some discomfort, but I have to stick this tube down your throat to try and help you breath, okay?” Without waiting for any kind of answer, the doctor tilted Jeduthun’s head back, opening her airways and proceeded to feed the long tube down her throat. Monitors flashed and screamed as she moved, her eyes trained on her hands before high pitched squealing caused her to look up. “Damn it, she’s going into cardiac arrest, get me a defibrillator. Now people!”

“What’s going on?” Dean muttered, his eyes frantic and trained on Jeduthun, who had gone slack.

“Dean, sorry but you’re going to have to leave.”

“I’m not leaving, tell me what’s happening!”

“Someone get him the hell out of here, now!” Dr. Miller shouted as she stepped around the bed and ripped open Jed’s gown before slapping a set of what looked like orange stickers on her chest; one between her breasts, the other some what under her left arm. Dean was shoved from the room before he could see anymore; the door slammed in his face. John was screaming in his arms, his fingers clenching air. Dean stared at the door blankly, his arms trying to rock John to calm him. What had happened, one minute she was fine then the next he was being shoved from the room. Seconds that felt like hours passed before Dean collapsed into a chair. Clueless, worried and heart broken, Dean covered his mouth with his hand and allowed himself to cry.