Chapter Text
“Hey. Sam.” Don plopped down beside the soon-to-be father. “I know things are complicated and you and Lia agreed to a complete split. I know your brother’s gonna be right there with you, helping you out, so you’re not exactly gonna be a single dad. But if you need anything… take this.” He held out an envelope.
Sam took it, opening the unsealed flap to pull out a card with bank information – account number, password, everything he would need to access it, including a fake ID card for Cody Canada. “What’s this for?”
“First off: Lia knows I’m planning on doing this.” That much was obvious to Sam, as the envelope was addressed to him in her handwriting. “We’re treating this like the child support you don’t want to take. A bank account for a name you’re not likely to use on your own isn’t likely to be traced to connect us to you any more than a thorough researcher could already find. If you don’t want to touch it before then and no emergencies come up where you have to, give it to her when she’s eighteen or heading off to college.
Sam looked at the envelope, emotion welling up. He could at least promise himself that he would not do what his father had, draining the account to buy more weapons. Of course, he was better off than his dad was, already set up for a hunter’s life and drawing a salary from money Charlie had found invested by the Men of Letters back in the 1950s, before Abaddon ruined everything. “I don’t suppose you or Amelia have any thoughts on a name for her, do you? Dean and I have been brainstorming, but we… I haven’t made a final decision. If you want to throw something into the hat, feel free, you and Amelia have done a lot for her.”
“Any name Lia or I come up with, we’d probably want to keep for our own daughter should we have one, right?” Don grinned. “That said, when I was in middle school and had to do a biology project about genetics by simulating a kid given two sets of parent genes, I ended up with a daughter I named Caroline. Our English teacher got in on the fun and had us write stories about our kids, and Caroline ended up being somewhat real to me. Wouldn’t want to name an actual child of mine after her, but might be kind of nice for your kid.”
Amelia had encouraged Sam to be in the room for the birth, but in the end, Sam just wasn’t comfortable with that until his baby was actually born. Don poked his head out. “Sam? The head’s out, it won’t be long before the baby is fully delivered, it’s time.”
“And Amelia…”
“Wouldn’t have let me go if she wasn’t okay with you being there. She’s doing great, she gave me the signal to get you.” Don gave Sam a reassuring smile and disappeared back inside.
Dean gave him a shove. “Go on. Bring her out here once you can. Amelia doesn’t want me there and I don’t wanna be where I’m not wanted, but you should be.”
Sam got in there just as the doctor was about to cut the umbilical cord. “Ah, just in time, Mr. Winchester. Would you care to do the honors?” Sam shook his head, so the doctor made the cut. She handed the baby to a nurse for examination and returned her attention to Amelia.
The nurse got a weight and other assessments, and then handed the baby to Sam. “We’ll want to check back in about five minutes just to make sure everything’s still good, but congratulations, you have a healthy baby girl. If you want, you can try to feed her now, see if she’s hungry.”
Sam stared down at the baby in his arms. This is where he was supposed to fall in love, right? The big magical moment where his paternal instincts would kick in and he would love her more than anything? Except that wasn’t happening. He felt so awkward holding her, especially when the nurse held out a bottle and he had to do more than just hold her. She didn’t seem interested in the bottle, turning away from it instead of toward it. He looked helplessly at the nurse.
“Don’t worry, we see this sometimes. She’s just been through a big change and everything’s so new to her! We’ll try again in a few minutes. While we wait, do you have the name picked out?”
Sam shook his head. Maybe that would help, if he picked a name now, and started calling her by something specific to her instead of thinking of her as “her” or “the baby.” “I wanted to meet her before I made a final decision on a name. See what felt right for her. And… I still don’t know her yet? If that makes sense?”
“Well, you don’t have to decide right away, and she’s not likely to understand if you try on a few names to see if something fits,” the nurse said. “You might just pick one and try it for now, see how it feels. For now, she’s just Baby Winchester.”
“Yeah, that won’t work, that’s what my brother calls his car,” Sam said with a grin. “My daughter is not sharing her name with the car.” He looked down at the baby – his baby. “Mary?” Dean had been pushing hard for it; Sam didn’t want the baby to grow up with expectations of living up to their mother somehow. There was no response from the baby, whose eyes had closed. Not promising for the name sticking, then.
The awkwardest five minutes of Sam’s life ended when the nurse took Mary for the second set of checks. Everything was good there, and this time when Sam got the bottle, Mary was interested and managed to drink some of it. With that accomplished, he was allowed to take her out of the room to meet Dean.
“Hey there, sweetheart,” Dean said, eyes going soft and warm. He looked totally natural holding the baby, and Sam had a flare of irrational jealousy at how easily this came to him. Dean looked up. “You were right. She’s not a Mary. Middle name, maybe, but not what we’re calling her.”
“So what’s next up? Ellen?” That didn’t really feel any better to Sam, but maybe it would grow on him. Or she’d grow into it, or whatever.
Dean shared his skepticism and looked down at the baby. “You know, she feels more like a Jessica, or a Joanna if you don’t want to deal with that. We have some time.” He smiled down at the baby, and then offered her back to Sam. “Come on, man, you can’t hide behind me the whole time. I’m right here. Mom and Dad were there to show me how to do this as a big brother, I didn’t just pick you up and know, but the only way you’re gonna learn this is to do it.”
Sam took… Jessica… and held her close. “Dean, is it bad that I don’t… I don’t feel…” He couldn’t find the way to explain it. “Shouldn’t feeling like a dad be more immediate?”
“You know, Lisa and I were talking about possibly having more kids, once I’d recovered a little more from my grief over losing you.” Dean reached out and stroked Jessica’s cheek. “Lisa said she didn’t feel that way about Ben for a few days. It wasn’t immediate, she needed some time to get used to it, and she was around the whole pregnancy.” Sam huffed a laugh. Of course she was. “What I’m saying is not to worry about it, it’ll come when you’re ready for it, and as long as you’re taking good care of Jessica she’ll probably never realize. By the time we’re home? I bet you’ll be fine.”
By the time little Sandra was ready to leave the hospital, she’d gone through several other names. Jessica was currently in the lead, but it didn’t feel quite right. Sam was also doing well with faking it, but the parental instinct and deep abiding all-consuming love still wasn’t there. Dean continued to reassure him that it would come, that just because it was there for Dean already didn’t mean that Sam was going to be the worst father in the world because it wasn’t there for him yet.
The doctor had encouraged Sam and Dean to stay somewhere in town for a few days, rather than driving back to Kansas immediately, so that if something went wrong or baby had trouble adjusting to being on the outside they could bring her in more easily. They’d agreed to get a hotel room for a week, but assured the doctor that their little girl would be in good hands.
Castiel met them in the hotel room. “Hello, little one.” Sam felt better about himself watching how awkward the angel was holding her. “I brought you a present.”
The present was a hand-knitted blanket made of very soft green yarn. Sandra calmed a great deal when Sam helped wrap it around her. “Thanks, Cas. We’re… still figuring out how to handle her. Any advice?”
“For her? No. For you?” Castiel gave him a sympathetic look. “Relax. Don’t judge yourself for still being new at this. For the past seven months, this has been a prospect that wasn’t here in front of you. You used the time well, you’re fully prepared for this, I’m here to make sure that you and Dean both get some uninterrupted sleep, relax and let yourself enjoy this without worrying over whether you’re good enough.”
“Thanks.” Sam looked at the baby. “What about her name? Dean and I haven’t quite settled on one. We’ve tried a few but none of them seem to fit.”
Castiel looked down at her. “Dean told me not to offer any more suggestions. I don’t want to cause problems.”
Dean rolled his eyes. “You were suggesting we name her after your friend who killed one of our friends. Working with Meg if she somehow turns back up, fine, we can do that, but I’m not naming our daughter after her.”
“If I had meant my thorny beauty, I would have suggested Megan or Salome, her name before she became a demon,” Castiel snapped. “I suggested Margaret because you both vetoed Jamie after Jimmy, and Margaret was the name of my former vessel, the one I took a hundred years ago.”
Sam gave Dean a pointed glare, to which Dean rolled his eyes. He’d tried to tell Dean to at least hear Castiel out on Margaret, but Dean wouldn’t listen. “What was Jimmy’s middle name? Any friends who died during the Apocalypse or the war with Raphael that you might want to name her for?”
Castiel shook his head. “Jimmy’s middle name was Aloysius, which he hated dreadfully and refused to consider when he and Amelia discovered they were expecting Claire. Unless you wanted to use Alice…”
“Nah, we’re good,” Sam said. “Dean? Ready to give Margaret a try, or do we give Sandra a little longer?”
Dean was the one to freak out when Kate’s diaper leaked all over the blanket Castiel had made. “Shit, Cas, I…”
“Dean, relax, I gave it to an infant,” Castiel said. “This sort of thing was completely expected, and I am an angel. I can take care of this easily.” He waved a hand, and the blanket was immediately clean. “If you’re still uncomfortable, I can simply pop back to the Bunker and retrieve another.”
“…Do that,” Dean said, although he obviously knew how ridiculous he was being. Sam could sympathize. So far, Dean had handled his share of diaper changes like a champ, but he did have his thing with other people’s bodily fluids being where they weren’t supposed to be. “While you’re at it, see if you can come up with something better than Kate. Much as I know Adam would love to have his mom honored, it’s not working for me.”
“Might be time to revisit some of the ones we’ve backburnered,” Sam said when Castiel didn’t have a suggestion before he left. “What are we at? Jessica, Roberta, Erica?”
“Still can’t believe you’re on board with Erica,” Dean said. “You and Dad…”
“He wasn’t a great dad, but he was the best he could be under the circumstances,” Sam said with a shrug. “Just because I didn’t get along with him and definitely don’t wanna parent like him doesn’t mean I don’t think he deserves honoring.” He looked down at the baby whose diaper he was in the process of changing. “Besides, of everything we’ve tried, Erica fits the best.”
“If you don’t think Roberta is quite right, what about Robin?” Castiel suggested, laying out a bright blue blanket he had retrieved to replace the green one. “It’s quite a pretty name, and still at least somewhat related to Bobby.”
Dean raised an eyebrow, and then nodded. “I like it. Robin Mary, Robin Ellen… no, not that one, that’s stupid. Robin Jessica. Robin Joanna. It works.”
“Yeah. It does.” Sam looked at his daughter, getting the new diaper secured. “Robin?”
She looked at him, and it was probably just a random head motion and a trick of the light anyway, but looking into his baby’s eyes, he saw the same shade of blue as his mother’s eyes had been the one time he got to meet her and remember it. He’d heard somewhere that babies’ eye color changed, but for this one moment? He could feel his mom standing where he was, looking down at a baby who completely depended on him. And he could feel it. The way his mother had loved him, so much that she died for him, remained a ghost for over twenty years for him, just to save his life… that was in him, too. His baby Robin, he’d do all that and more for. “Yeah, I like this one. It fits her.”