momchester finally made a bb account

[minifridge]

You know they're just icons, right? [Mary brushes her hair out of her eyes and stares unimpressed into the... wherever it is she's looking.] There's really no need to obsess.

[She rolls her eyes and scoffs in an... incredibly teenage way.]

I don't even know why you made this account. It's not like there's a point. [squaring her shoulders determinedly, self-consciously aware that she looks a little silly.] My life will be way too boring for you to write anything about and that's just fine with me. Got it?

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[failedparenting]

[Well shit. How the hell can he answer that?]

You could say that.

[minifridge]

Why can't you just say yes or no? What's wrong?

[failedparenting]

I don't think you understand "I can't tell you".

[Yes John, be the adult here.]

[minifridge]

You already admitted that you know me in the future. You could have just admitted it normally instead of choosing the weirdest possible way to say it.

[Yes, Mary, be the petulant teenager here. The petulant teenager with a damn good point.]

[failedparenting]

[He honestly doesn't remember her being this obnoxiously persistent. Maybe you just don't notice it when you're that young.

That young, Jesus.]

Are you really going to try and argue with me on wording?

[minifridge]

[Or she only gets this obnoxious when dealing with hunters, because it's her very least favorite situation in the world and Samuel has made her fearful of them.]

So you know me, you just can't-

[Then she recognizes how incredibly obnoxious she's being, and falls silent, visibly frustrated and a little abashed.]

I'm sorry. I should know better than to pry. [Lip bite.] What's your name?

[failedparenting]

[Then Samuel's a smart man, hunters are bastards.

John waves away her apology]

No, I get it. It's a pain in the ass when people aren't straight with you.

[Good, now that that's over with, he's out of the woods for pressing questions.

And the she asks his name. It's a perfectly
reasonable question, but fuck his life.

John's first thought is to just tell her it's John. John's a common name, she probably wouldn't be suspicious. But on the off chance...she does tend to notice the details, doesn't she? Give her the right name, she might connect the dots.

It's a slim chance, but it's still a chance.

Instead he gives her the fist name that comes to mind.]

Bobby. [And then, without missing a beat:] Van Halen.

[minifridge]

[Well, fuck his life even more, because her eyes brighten in recognition at the name. Mary sits up very straight, tucking her feet underneath her on the counter as she looks at him more intently.]

Van Halen? [Oh man.] Do you know Dean?

[failedparenting]

[He starts when she says the name. Dean? She couldn't really mean their Dean. There's no way she could have met him.

Tentatively, he answers.]

Depends. What's he look like?

[Not that he honestly expects a description of their son, but fuck, he's curious now.]

[minifridge]

[She bites her lip tersely, not particularly wanting to recall him. The unhappiness shows on her face and in the way she tenses, stiffening in that way she did when something was deeply wrong but she refused to say what.]

Um... he's about your height, wears a leather jacket, brown hair... I think... no, I don't know his eyes but...

[Fiddling with her charm bracelet absently.]

Oh, and he had this necklace. [Shrug.] I don't know if Dean Van Halen was his real name- you know hunters.

[She softens a little, face falling slightly as she recalls the last conversation they had, how choked up he got, how cryptic in giving her a warning about a night years down the line.]

But I don't think he would have lied to me.

[failedparenting]

[John is stunned. Plain fucking 100% stunned. Mary's met their son, at least five years before he was even an idea.

How the hell...?

He tries not to let the shock show on his face, but his sucess is dubious. There are some emotions even he can't hide completely.]

Yeah, I know him.

[minifridge]

[Mary is a little curious now- he's definitely surprised, that much is obvious, but maybe it's just the small-world kind of surprise. Maybe Dean is his brother or cousin or something, but... if he really does know her in the future, why would it be so shocking that someone he knows knows her?

Curious.]

Yeah? Are you two related, or...?

[failedparenting]

[Excuse John's mild blue screen of death, he's still processing this new information. How did Dean meet his mother? He doesn't know of anything that has the power to fuck with time like that. Well, maybe a trickster, but that's stretching it.

He's so wrapped in his thoughts, he doesn't hear her question.]

Sorry, what?

[minifridge]

[Stare.]

Are you two related?

[failedparenting]

Oh, yeah. My brother.

[As long as he's avoiding every facet of the truth...]

[minifridge]

Huh. [She studies his face quizzically.] Yeah, I could see it.

[Come to think of it- the longer and harder she looks at him, the more she's sure she's met him before.]

[failedparenting]

[John doesn't really notice that she's studying him any harder. Just looking for the family resemblance, he assumes. Instead, he's preoccupied with this whole Dean deal. He wants to question her, but any hunter would catch on instantly.

Light conversation, then. Well, as light as it can get after she's accused him of being a stalker. He keeps his tone light, just mildly interested.]

So, how did you meet him?

[minifridge]

[That snaps her out of studying him altogether. She immediately looks away, down to the floor, and shifts uncomfortably, hand gripping the edge of the counter.]

We kind of worked a case together.

[failedparenting]

[His brow furrows. They even worked a damn case?]

Really. What were you after?

[He doesn't believe it. Or rather, he won't believe it.]

[minifridge]

You'll never believe me.

[One of, honestly, the rarest critters from her time. She's trying valiantly to keep the bald unhappiness off her face, or the little flinch when she says the D word.]

It was a demon.

[failedparenting]

A demon. Really.

[He is shocked, but for reasons Mary wouldn't understand. God, maybe that's the link. If it was the demon, that could explain Dean being there (not how, that's still a grand clusterfuck of a mystery, but it's a reason).

Maybe it's how it got her scent.]

Demons are pretty damn rare. You sure that's what it was?

[He needs to be sure.]

[minifridge]

[She makes a choked sound that was meant to be a scoff or laugh.]

Yeah, I'm pretty sure.

[...Okay, taking it back a notch. She's dealing with their deaths.

Really.]

[failedparenting]

How, is what I'm asking. Most cases of demon possession just turn out to be pissed off ghosts.

[He's losing his grip on the conversational tone. Reel it in, she'll get suspicious.]

[minifridge]

I saw its eyes, okay?!

[Dealing. So well.]

[failedparenting]

[Of all the possible reactions, sudden anger was the last John would expect. Reflexively, he throws his hands up and backs off a bit.]

Woah, it was just a question.

[But the thing is, she's obviously distressed. Another piece to this god-awful puzzle.]

You okay?