It was still
early morning, John had gone to work, and Dean was sleeping. Castiel was letting his mind wander the house
and yard, keeping an eye on things.
Dean’s head
lifted from his pillow and he blinked sleep from his eyes.
“Mommy?”
The
three-year-old jumped out of bed and ran down the hall to his parents’
bedroom. He opened the bedroom door and,
not seeing his mother, peeked his head in.
He heard noises in the master bathroom.
“Mommy?”
The noises
continued. The young man ran to the
bathroom door and quietly opened it.
Mary
Winchester was kneeling on the floor next to the commode. She was vomiting. Dean ran to her and put his arms around her.
“Are you
okay, Mommy?”
“I’m just
not feeling very well, honey.”
Dean saw the
tears in her eyes, and the sweat on her face.
He turned on the water faucet in the sink and wet the washcloth. He didn’t understand about wringing out the
excess water. Carrying a dripping wet
cloth to his mother, he washed her face.
Looking up
at her son, Mary smiled and took the cloth from him.
“Thank you,
Dean. Why don’t you go and get dressed.”
Castiel,
standing in the doorway, looked at the woman on the floor. It looked like the time was approaching. Mary Winchester was pregnant.
No comments:
Post a Comment