Gone with the Wind

A/N - Hello everyone. I just wanted to remind everyone that this is a companion piece to In My Time Of Rising by njchrispatrick. If you haven't read the story then I suggest you read it either first or straight after this otherwise it won't make much sense. This also contains some adult themes like child death, M-preg and course language. Read at your own risk.

Part 1: A Tragic Loss

Who would have guessed that both the best and worst day of Dean's life could have started out so ordinary? It was a hot and windy day, which most people were spending indoors or in the pool.

Dean Winchester had woken up in the typical fashion as of late; wake up at about mid-day, lie there for about half an hour before finally dragging himself out of bed when either his stomach or bladder won the fight over his exhaustion. Today, it was hunger that won out. He quickly went to get dressed, stopping to stare yet again at his swollen stomach. No matter how long it had been since he first found out about the pregnancy, it was something he would never be able to get used to.

Dean sighed, resting a hand on his belly, grinning when he felt the baby kick. He was nine months along now. The baby was due any day, something Dean was extremely grateful for. If there was one thing he hated more then monsters, it was pregnancy. The morning sickness, food cravings, backaches, ankle pains, itchy skin, exhaustion and bloating were not very fun. Granted it had all stopped by now but it hadn't been even remotely pleasant at the time. Still he knew it was worth it.

Dean had gone through all the motions that can be expected when falling pregnant under such unusual circumstances. At first it had been denial. He couldn't have possibly been pregnant right? The symptoms? Just some weird case of the flu or maybe it was some freaky monster mojo. However, when the psychic, Missouri, John had taken him to confirm it as the truth, denial turned to anger. He had almost come to the point of begging his father to find a way to terminate the pregnancy. However, the thought hadn't lasted long at all. Anger had been by far the shortest stage. After that it had been acceptance and later excitement.

Dean turned to find a shirt to wear when he spotted an item on his bedside table. It was a teddy bear for the baby. Bobby had gotten it for the kid when he found out about Dean expecting. It was a white furred bear with a blue bowtie. Dean grinned. He was sure the baby was going to love it.

Dean hummed to himself as he slipped a shirt on and shuffled out into the main room of the hotel. His little brother, Sam, was sitting at the table eating lunch. John was nowhere in sight. Probably hunting, Dean thought.

They had arrived in Fort Smith, Arkansas a few days ago. Apparently, John knew a doctor here that was well educated in the supernatural. She had been stunned to say the least when she heard about Dean's baby but had agreed to help them none the less.

John had quickly found a case near by, something about a vengeful spirit? Dean wasn't sure. Normally, he would have jumped at the chance to help John on a job. Now, it was the least of his concerns. Besides, Bobby was staying with them and was helping John with the case anyway.

Dean groaned in relief as he finally collapsed into a chair and pulled over a plate of sausages and chips. He grumbled slightly as Sam tossed some vegetables on the plate as well but otherwise offered no further complaint. He might not be interested in the slightest in rabbit food but shrugged it off. It was for the baby, after all.

…

Sam smirked in amusement as he watched Dean reluctantly devour the salad. It had amazed Sam how much Dean had changed in the past nine months. He had gone from risk taker to a voice of reason in a matter of days. He was eating healthier then Sam had ever seen him before, in other words, he was eating more then just junk food. He hadn't so much as given their father's beers a second glance. Hell, Dean had even stopped complaining about having to wear the wig in public.

Sam had never once believed that Dean would give up the baby, even if Dean believed that he had considered it. Sam knew it was just his emotions talking. He had been upset, confused and afraid; not that the junior hunter would ever admit to fear. Dean wouldn't have given up the child, not ever.

Everything for the last few months had been about the baby. Dean refused to go anywhere near places where people were smoking as it wasn't good for the baby. He wouldn't eat anything that he didn't believe was good for the baby. The baby came first and Sam knew it wouldn't change when he or she was here. Not that he believed he would be much better.

Sam was excited. He was going to be an uncle! It had been one of the greatest moments in his life, the day he found out about his little niece or nephew and the baby would arrive soon. He couldn't wait.

…

An hour after lunch, or breakfast in Dean's case, the wind outside had picked up. Dean sighed as flicked through the channels, trying to find something to watch. He really did hate daytime TV.

John had come back just a few minutes ago while Bobby had popped down to the local library to find a book on local legends. The eldest Winchester was currently cleaning weapons at the table, grumbling about the ghost getting away amongst other things. Dean kept eyeing the weapons, subconsciously shifting so that his baby bump was out of sight. After ten more failed attempts at finding something to watch, Dean finally decided to go lie down.

He heaved himself out of the seat and turned to head to his room when he felt what could only be described as a 'pop' followed by a sensation that made all the colour drain from his face. His hands immediately flew to his stomach as he cried out. "I-I think my water just broke!"

John was up in a second, guns forgotten. Sam came flying out of the room he shared with Dean, eyes wide in delight. "Really? Already? Great, I'm going to be an Uncle soon!"

Dean opened his mouth to reply when a sharp pain sliced through his stomach. He moaned, doubling over and subsequently, nearly face-planted.

John raced over and grabbed Dean before he hit the floor. "Sam, you stay here and tell Bobby what's going on when he gets back. I'm taking Dean to the hospital."

"But…" Sam began.

"No arguments Sam!" John snapped before guiding Dean out the door.

…

The wind had strengthened to a gale-force gust as Dean sat on a bed in a private examination room. He gulped down air as he waited for John's contact to arrive. She had been working with a patient when they reached the hospital. From what Dean had heard, it was another hunter that had had an unfortunate encounter with a demon.

If there was one thing Dean had learnt in the last four hours, it was that contractions were a bitch. Still, he tried to distract himself with thoughts of what the baby would be like, what it would be like to be a dad and what they were going to do next.

Once the initial shock of what the succubus had done to him had warn off, he had been beyond excited for the arrival of the newest Winchester. Granted, this wasn't exactly how he had expected to become a father but it had happened. Not much he could do about it.

Names had been a tricky decision. If it were a girl, he would name her Mary. That hadn't been a difficult decision. However, if the little one was a boy? That was trickier. He still hadn't been able to decide.

Another contraction hit, this one more painful then the last. Dean grit his teeth and stood up, pacing the length of the room.

I wonder what they will look like? I hope they look like me. It would be better if they didn't resemble someone who fucked me in a bloody motel room! Dean thought as he heard footsteps approaching the room. Still, if the child did look like the stranger then that was alright. Dean could hardly hold that against his son/daughter.

The footsteps were getting louder. Dean could hear his father's voice now and a woman's. Must be the doctor he mused as another spasm jolted through his belly, causing him to topple forward. He just managed to grab the bedpost to keep himself up right.

Dean knew that once you were a hunter, there was no going back. To think that you could just walk away from the supernatural was foolish. One way or another, it would catch up with you. Once a hunter, always a hunter. Dean knew this and knew that he couldn't escape this life. Still, he didn't want this for his son or daughter.

Dean was used to the price one payed for this kind of life; broken bones, scars, a shorter life expectancy. Despite all that, someone needed to do the job and it was the right thing to do wasn't it? To save people who couldn't save themselves? Still, this wasn't the type of life that allowed for raising a family. He and Sam? They had been extremely lucky to have not been killed. Most hunters chose to stay single and childless. They didn't want to give themselves a weakness that could be used against them. They didn't want to suffer the unbeatable pain that came with knowing you couldn't save your wife, husband and/or children from a monster; the anguish of discovering you were too late.

If one thing had scared Dean in the last nine months, it hadn't been the pregnancy or this moment right now. It had been the idea of something going wrong. Dean wouldn't admit it out loud but he couldn't even count the amount of times he had had nightmares of monster from his past returning and taking its revenge on him through his child. The most frequent of these dreams consisted of himself running into a nursery, so similar to Sammy's back in their old house, to see the yellow-eyed demon standing over a baby crib. Dean would run into the room, gun in hand, just to see the crib burst into flames. Dean was fairly certain that horrifying sound of the babies screams suddenly cutting off would be something he would never be able to forget as long as he lived.

Dean wasn't sure what he was going to do now that he was going to be a father. One thing was for sure though; he wouldn't allow any of those dreams to come true. Not as long as he was still breathing.

The footsteps had finally reached the door. Dean looked up as a fairly young woman, probably in her mid-thirties, stepped inside. She had honey-blonde hair and gentle sapphire eyes. "Hello Dean, I'm DR. Heatherley. I must say, your…..case is a rather unusual one but I want you to know that your going to be just fine. Everything has been prepared to ensure that you and the baby will be at as little risk as possible. Now, I will need you to lie down so I can check you over before we get started. Unfortunately we are going to have to go with a C-section birth, as we don't have any other options with you. Can you tell me how far apart the contractions have been?"

Dean did as he was asked, crawling onto the bed and answering the doctor's questions. However, his mind was far from the conversation. He smiled softly as he rested a hand once again on his stomach. It was a habit he had developed since he first found out he was pregnant, even before he had been able to accept it. He supposed it was some kind of paternal instinct; a reassurance that the baby was all right. He couldn't count the amount of times he had fallen asleep, one or both hands on his belly, only to wake up later in a near panic when he didn't feel the baby kick in a while. Bobby was usually the one to walk in when that happened and calm him down, reminding the half-asleep teen that the baby was fine and probably just sleeping too.

Dean grinned again, despite another painful contraction, when the baby gave another vicious little kick, almost as if to say he or she wanted to get out already. I wonder what they will be like? Will they act like me? Or maybe Sam? Maybe they will have a completely different attitude. I hope they like rock music or cars. I can't wait to teach them to drive the Impala! He was determined to ensure they had as normal a life as possible. He would teach them all the things parents taught their kids to do; ride a bike, play baseball. Maybe they would even go to the beach. I promise you'll never be afraid or harmed. I promise Dean thought as DR. Heatherley wheeled in some equipment. Dean couldn't help but feel that the sight of the sharp instruments was slightly daunting. He didn't particularly want to imagine someone using one of those sharp scalpels to cut open his stomach where his little son or daughter lay.

Dean groaned. If Sam could hear him fretting right now he would never live it down. Stupid pregnancy hormones he snarled mentally.

"Okay, I think it's about time. Normally we would wait a little longer but I don't want to risk the baby trying to make its own way out. I'll leave you both for a minute while I get things ready to start." Heatherley stated in a professional tone before she crossed the room to sterilise her hands for the procedure.

John stepped forward, looking very uncomfortable about the whole thing. Dean narrowed his eyes ever so slightly. He loved his father. He really did but they had grown apart slightly, ever since Dean had wondered back to the hotel after the night that lead to them being where they were now. Dean could easily see that John wasn't happy with the baby at all and would have probably been happier to terminate it. Dean unknowingly moved his other hand to rest on his stomach.

The teen metaphorically shook the dark thoughts away. His baby was fine. They were human. Missouri had said that the child didn't have any demon powers. There was nothing to worry about.

John grunted, dropping down into a chair beside the bed. "Here, Sam thought you might want this. He ran out to the car just before we left. You'd already fallen asleep at that point." The older hunter stated, handing over the plush bear. Dean blinked in surprise. He couldn't believe he had forgotten it.

"Look, I guess I don't say this nearly as often as I should but I…..you know I do love you right? You and Sammy?" John began, staring imploringly at his eldest son.

Dean gaped, shocked by the turn of events. "Yeah Dad, I know. What's this all about anyway? You're acting as if I'm going to die or something. I'm fine." Dean replied, one of his signature cheeky grins sliding into place.

John nodded. "I know. I just wanted you to know that I am proud of you. Heaven knows, I wouldn't have been able to handle this situation nearly as well as you have if at all. I….Dean, I'm sorry for the way I've been acting. I've only had your best interests at heart here."

Dean nodded, a sad smile on his lips. ""Yeah, I figured. Thanks Dad but I'm alright. Really."

John smiled wistfully in reply. "I know you are."

Before another word could be spoken, Dean yelped when an exceptionally harsh spasm shook his body. DR. Heatherley strolled over and spoke briskly to John. "I'm afraid we are going to need to start the C-section now. We cannot afford to wait any longer. I will need you to wait outside in the reception room. I promise I will come get you once your grandchild has arrived."

John nodded, mouth twitching ever so slightly at the baby being called his 'grandchild'. He gave Dean one last reassuring smile before stepping outside.

DR. Heatherley gave the now slightly anxious teen a soothing grin. "Dean, I'm going to need to sedate you for the procedure unfortunately. Normally it isn't required for childbirth but as our circumstances are rather unusual, it would be safer for you to be unconscious. Is that alright?"

Dean hesitated, he wasn't sure he liked the idea but then again, maybe it was better. It had to beat watching them cut into his swollen stomach, right?

"Okay."

DR. Heatherley grinned lightly before quickly setting up an IV. Dean didn't even twitch as the needled pricked his arm. Dean gently rubbed his belly in a calming manner when he felt the baby moving inside. Shhhh, its okay. You'll be out soon he cooed mentally as the world steadily turned black.

…

Dean whimpered slightly as he came too. Urgh, where the hell am I? he thought groggily. He moved to roll over onto his side and bury his face into the pillow but stopped when pain burst from his mid-section at the action. His eyes snapped open with a shout as he stilled.

Instantly, his hands shot down to his belly faster then he would have thought possible. He was stunned when he realised that the now all-to-familiar baby bump was gone and his stomach was now relatively flat once more, except for the bandage that was wrapped securely round his middle. He began to panic until his memorise finally managed to break through the drug-induced haze his mind had descended into.

He relaxed when he recalled where he was. Slowly, he sat up and looked around the room. Where is everyone? Where's my baby?

As if she had heard his questions, DR. Heatherley walked in, followed closely by John. Dean beamed when he saw them, expecting to see a tiny baby cradled safely in one of their pair of arms. He didn't see their saddened, regretful expressions.

"Where is the baby? What gender; male or female? What do they look like? Are they okay?" Dean began, rattling off question after question.

John quickly cut him off. "Dean, Dean! Listen, we have some….we have some bad news."

Dean froze; dread flooding his veins like ice water. "W-What do you mean? What's wrong? Where is my baby?"

DR. Heatherley stepped forward. "I'm so very sorry Mr Winchester. We tried everything we could but…he didn't make it."

Dean blinked. He? He? A boy. My son! I have a son! A little baby boy! However, his delight was very short lived when the rest of the sentence caught up with him. Dean's expression turned blank. "What are you talking about? What do you mean he didn't make it? Where's my son?" He growled.

DR. Heatherley continued quietly in a placating manner. "I'm so sorry Dean. He wasn't breathing when we finally got him out. We immediately tried everything we could to save him but he just wasn't responding. He didn't make it Dean. He's gone."

Dean stared at them both for a full minute, not comprehending what they were trying to tell him. It wasn't possible. He's not gone. He can't be! Not yet! I haven't even seen him yet! They're lying! Where's my son? Where…?

Finally, the reality set in. Dean blinked; an anguished moan worked its way out of his throat. "No. No. It's not true. Oh God, please tell me its not true!"

DR. Heatherley placed a hand on John's shoulder. She whispered something inaudible to all but John before speaking out loud. "I'll leave you two alone for the moment.". She crossed the room but stopping in the doorway and speaking again to John. "If you need me to sedate him at any point let me know. We often have to do that to stop grieving parents from harming themselves or someone else in their grief."

John nodded solemnly before sitting back down in the same chair he had sat in before. Dean didn't appear to have noticed, he was currently staring off into space, the same words spilling out of his mouth. "No. No. Please, it's a mistake. He's fine. He's safe. He has to be."

"Dean," John began, gently resting a hand on his son's shoulder. "I'm so sorry. I wish things had been different. I really do."

Dean just shook his head, tears flowing from his eyes now. He hadn't cried for twelve years. Not since he was four years old. After the night he lost his mother, he had told himself that he didn't have the luxury of showing such weakness. No chick-flick moments. He was Sam's older brother. He needed to be strong for Sam.

Now, however, he couldn't have cared less that he was a sixteen year old teen bawling like a three year old. He didn't care anymore about acting the tough older brother. He didn't have the strength for that anymore. Fuck being the strongest. Right then, he would give anything to be that four-year-old again, being cuddled and comforted by his mother after a nightmare. Oh Lord, why can't this just be a horrific nightmare?

Dean turned to John, emerald eyes glistening with tears. "Why? How? Why did this happen to me? He was supposed to be okay. I was supposed to take him home and have to put Sammy in a headlock just to get to hold him. He was supposed to grow up and get a girlfriend, a job and be happy. Instead he's….he's…" Dean couldn't continue nor could he bring himself to say it allowed. He couldn't say that his son was dead. Finally he composed himself just enough to whisper one more thing. "He was supposed to live."

John didn't say anything. Nothing he could say would have done anything anyway. Instead he did something he rarely ever did; he pulled his son into a hug, rubbing soothing circles on his back and whispering words of comfort.

Dean was slightly startled but brushed it off, instead he just buried his face into his father's chest and cried for the loss of his son's life; a life taken far to soon.

…

Later that night, while the hospital was relatively silent, Dean sat awake listening to the howling wind outside. His father had left a few hours ago since visiting hours where over. He had needed to go home and tell Sam and Bobby the terrible news. They would be coming tomorrow to visit and hopefully Dean would be allowed to go home with them that afternoon.

Dean didn't care. He really didn't. The last thing he wanted was to see their pitying stares and here their supposedly comforting words. Or, worst of all, hear Sam's cries of grief for the nephew he hadn't had the chance to meet. Dean didn't think he could handle that. Not yet.

He hadn't seen his son. John told him that they had already taken the body away. Dean had wanted to argue; to kick and scream at his father for making that choice for him. John had just said that it would have been too painful for him. In a way, Dean could agree. He didn't know if he could handle seeing the boy that he already loved so much dead and lifeless; an empty shell. It would break him, he knew it.

He choked on a sob as his hand dropped down to his stomach, feeling the scar from the C-section. He had been told that he would always carry the scar. There had been an error with the stitches, which meant it would never heal. Normally Dean wouldn't have cared. He had many scars and was certain there would be many more to come. Hell, this scar would have probably ended up being a happy remaindered of the best day of his life, the day his son was born. Now? It would be a constant reminder of his deceased little boy.

Dean closed his eyes as the wind outside intensified outside into an eerie howl. It seemed fitting really, the wind. It was just like his son. It was there, all around you but the moment you reached for it, it slipped right through your hands. Just like the youngest Winchester, he had been there and then just like that he was gone.