The Past is the Past

     As usual, you were the first one up. You loved watching the boys sleep, as creepy as that sounds. It was the only time they were ever relaxed and still. You wished they would take more time to appreciate the little things, but the world never stopped moving with the Winchester's. In all honesty, you hadn't expected it to, but you missed the serene stillness of the world when it had been just you. 

     Once you untangled yourself from Sam's arms, you went to retrieve the tulip. Today was different, though. In its place, a single white lily stood. It seemed so out of place in the darkness of the room. You picked it up gently in your small hands and turned it over. You placed it lightly in the vase, right in the middle. It made a vast difference from the reds and yellows, oranges, purples, and pinks of the other tulips. "Where do you keep getting these flowers from? There's always one on the table beside your bed," said a voice behind you. You knocked over the vase in your surprise. "Jesus, Dean!" you shouted. John and Sam bolted upright in bed to see you standing in front of Dean with a scrunched up face with a broken vase at your feet. "The hell is going on?" asked John. "Dean made me break the vase! Now where am I going to put my flowers?" you blamed. John let his head fall. His chest started shaking and soon he was laughing loud and hard. Sam started laughing with him and then Dean. You couldn't help it and you let a laugh slip out. The laughter died down and you smiled at the sight. It was like John had almost forgotten how to laugh and it was coming back to him. "You remind me so much of Mary, it hurts," John said with a sigh. 

     When everyone else was up, you went and stood by John. He was over in the corner of the kitchen, making crappy coffee. Honestly, it was a little humorous to see him messing with the tiny buttons with his massive hands. "Who's Mary?" you asked softly. He paused for a moment before whispering, "She was the love of my life. My wife and Sam and Dean's mother. She was killed years back. Demon." You put down the coffee cup in his hand and hugged him. He was stiff, like he hadn't given or received a hug in a long while. But after a moment, he softened and hugged you back. "I'm sorry about Mary. At least you've got the boys. They're two of the best men I've ever met," you said as you let go. He gave you a small smile and went back to his coffee. 

     Sam came out of the shower with nothing but a towel around his waist, hair still dripping wet. You whistled and he struck a pose. You laughed and snuck a picture of him in his pose. He grabbed his clothes and went back in the bathroom. "Let me guess, Dean? You still in bed?" A groan from underneath the covers verified your question and you couldn't help but ant to torture him. Walking over to where the sound came from, you leaned over the lump and started poking him vigorously. "(y/n), sthap! No poking! Jesus, hands to yourself, woman!" he yelled from under the covers. You grinned and started packing up what little things you had on you when you left town.

Four and a half hours later, you were stuck in the Impala with the boys and a massive headache from all the ridiculous music John and Dean had been blasting. You rubbed your temple with one hand, digging in your backpack for your earbuds with the others. You pulled them out and sighed. They were, of course, tangled in every way possible. Sam reached over you to take them out of your hands. "May I?" he asked with a a gesture to them. "Knock yourself out, Samster," you replied, leaning back against the window. Within a minute, he handed them back to you untangled. You took them with wide eyes. "Impressive. Much impressive," you said with a grin. "When you're in the car for ten plus hours a day every day, you get bored really quick," he explained. You pulled out your phone and hooked the earbuds up before selecting the latest song you'd downloaded. It was a choral album titled Te Deum. You laid back and let the soft music fill every corner of you. Sam pulled your legs into his lap and smiled at you. Getting comfortable, you closed your eyes.

Something brushed against your bare thigh, causing you to open on eye just enough to see Sam tucking his huge flannel around your shoulders. The thing against your thigh had been his massive hand. You smiled at the warmth of his hand and nestled down a little deeper into the shirt that smelled like Sam. Like old, dusty books and gunpowder and all things that made Sam... well, Sam. It smelled like a home you'd never had. But you missed a smell that always seemed around. Candy. "Hey, Sam, you got any candy?" you asked him. He looked at you strangely, but pulled a Jolly Rancher out of his pocket. Thanking him, you unwrapped it and sniffed it. "Did you just smell a Jolly Rancher?" asked Dean from the front seat. You blushed and nodded. "The place I was living at on my own always smelled like candy, sometimes chocolate or something fruity. I kinda connect the two things," you confessed. John sighed in the front seat and turned up the radio. A familiar tune reached  your ear and you sat up, pulling your legs from Sam's lap. "'Hey Jude'. My favorite Beatles song. Can you roll up my window so I can hear it better?" you asked. At this, John slammed on the breaks, throwing everyone else forwards. The car was silent except for the music. "Can you sing it?" John asked after a moment. The request was so quiet, you barely heard it. Tilting your head, you did as he asked. 

you began, singing softly. It was high and lilting, just like it always was and you sang an octave above the lead singer. You saw Dean reach for the volume know, turning it down slowly. You sang just as loud, not letting them pressure you into shutting up. Sam's eyes were closed and John was making work in pulling of to the side of the road. Dean's eyes met yours through the rearview mirror and something in him was breaking. You kept singing, all the way to the end of the song. All of the boys eyes were closed gently and their breathing was even. You waved a hand in front of each of their faces. Only John was awake, but something was different. It was almost like his all had come crashing down. "Just like how Mary sang it. You're so like her, (y/n)," he said in a small voice, starting the car again. The boys were jolted awake and Dean swirled around to stare at you. "Jesus, boys, I just sang a song. It's not the end of the world," you joked. Sam took a book out of his bag and began to read while Dean stared out the window. There was no doubt there was something strange going on with them, but you dared not say anything. The rest of the car ride was silent and filled with tension thick enough, a diamond couldn't have cut it.