Author: Restive Nature
Genre: Crossover
Type: WiP
Shows: Dark Angel and Supernatural
Disclaimer: Neither show represented in this fiction belongs to me. Dark Angel is the product of Cameron/Eglee and Fox, whereas Supernatural is the product of Kripke and The CW. No profits are made from this fiction and it is intended for private enjoyment only.
Story Rating: PG-13 up to NC-17 for language, violence and sexual situations. (All higher rated material will be contained in its own chapter and clearly marked at the beginning of the chapter. PG versions of these chapters will also be available.)
Chapter Rating: PG-13 for language
Timeline/ Spoilers: This story takes place predominantly in the Supernatural timeline. This means that the Dark Angel structure of post-pulse America does not fit in. The massive changes will be that Manticore is decades ahead of itself and the characters from DA are born much earlier than portrayed on the show. There is no Pulse occurring. Any other changes to the structures or episodes of the shows will be (hopefully) explained within the story itself.
Pairing: None at this time. (The pairing will become evident. *grins evilly*)
Summary: Change can be a choice and you never know where the road you choose to take will lead you.
When It Changes
Chapter Eighteen
The Differences Between
The woman stared at John, amusement written all over her face. She held out her hand. “Now that I’ve broken the devastating news about your daughter, let me introduce myself. I’m Donna.”
John returned the gesture automatically, not even thinking of using one of his aliases. “John.”
“You really had no clue?” Donna asked sympathetically. John shook his head. “Well, you know, I’ve always thought that it was easier on fathers than on husbands to have to deal with this.”
“How do you mean?” John asked suspiciously. Donna chuckled.
“Well, young men get quite a shock when they have to deal with their wife’s cycle the first few times,” she explained with a shrug. “At least dads know about it, even if they don’t see it coming.”
John thought back to Mary. There had been a few times that he’d wanted to tear his hair out in frustration because of her mood swings, or her demands that he run out and get supplies for her. But Donna was right, after a few months, he was able to deal with it a lot better. But Mary had been a woman. He knew absolutely nothing about young girls. And it must have shown on his face, since Donna was now patting his arm.
“You’re still a little lost,” she smiled. “Want some help. Like I’ve said, I’ve got two girls, so I know all about this stuff.”
John nodded. “I know what my wife would have gotten, but I…” he was at a very obvious loss.
“But it’s not the same as what a young woman needs,” Donna concluded for him. She gestured and began walking towards a new aisle.
“Just a second,” John murmured. He moved forward and knocked loudly on the woman’s bathroom door. “Max?” he called loudly. “Sweetie, I’m going to grab a few things. I’ll meet you out at the car. All right?”
There was a slight pause and then, “okay Dad.”
John nodded to himself, mentally setting himself to deal with this. At least, he told himself, there was something good come out of this. She was behaving this way for a totally normal, growing up related reason, not because she was about to keel over from a potentially dangerous seizure. His mind clung to that fact as he followed Donna down the feminine care aisle.
“You really can’t get much at a gas station,” she was muttering to herself. “Maybe you should wait until you get to town and stop at a grocery store.”
John thought it over and shook his head. “I don’t know if we’ll get a chance to stop. Probably better to stock up now.”
Donna apparently agreed with him as she began removing a few items from the shelves. “These and this is better, and she might not need these, but it doesn’t hurt to have them.” She turned and deposited the wares into John’s hands and he stared down at the products. He stared longest at the Midol package.
“I have acetaminophen,” he told the woman slowly. But Donna shook her head.
“That would be okay, but too much of it can cause liver damage,” she explained.
“That’s right,” John sighed. “I knew that.”
“You’ll probably want to get her something soothing to drink, like ginger ale or something, and comfort food,” she continued. “It’s too bad they don’t sell hot water bottles here. My daughter’s couldn’t live without them.”
“I don’t have that,” John thought out loud, reviewing the contents of their trunk. Thinking about it now, he wondered why. Since they all got bumped and bruised on the job, it would make sense to have some other sort of pain relief.
“You know, you could always make one from an old laundry detergent jug,” Donna offered. John turned questioning eyes on her. “You know those big jugs? You just fill them up with hot water and they keep the heat forever. Plus they don’t flop around like those little bottles do.”
“How’d you come up with that?” John asked. It sounded like a good idea to him.
“Farm wife,” Donna grinned. “When you’re short on cash and long on sore backs, you improvise pretty well.” They heard a horn honking and both turned to glance out the large front window. “Oh dear. Looks like my husband is ready to go.” She turned back to John and glanced down at his armload of wares. “Well, you should be set. Good luck with your daughter.”
“Thank you,” John really meant it. He didn’t think he could navigate these waters by himself. He followed her to the end of the aisle and then turned right where Donna went left. He quickly searched the coolers until he found the ginger ale. With his free hand, he pulled out a two liter bottle and then headed back to the counter. He set the products down, glancing up with more than his fair share of embarrassment at the male clerk. “For my daughter,” he explained gruffly.
The kid grinned as he began ringing things up. “I didn’t think it was for you,” he retorted cheekily. “At least I was really, really hoping.” It seemed to John that the kid was handling it better than he was. But then again, the kid was probably used to guys dashing in here to grab this stuff at their wife or girlfriend’s insistence. He brightened momentarily. He’d just now thought of the perfect punishment for the boys. His grin widened as he took on the mental picture of Dean’s face at being told he had to go buy feminine products.
Of course Sammy would just take it in stride. Like how John had eventually been able to do for Mary. It was nothing in the later years to stop and pick up stuff, the tea she liked, a few magazines and her favorite chocolate bar. John brightened as that thought hit him. Donna had said something about comfort food. There was nothing more comforting to women than chocolate, right? Quickly, he scrambled over to the candy bars, not far from the till. He searched the selection. He had no clue what Max liked, since she always seemed to buy different kinds when she could. Finally, he grabbed a few types of plain chocolate bars, one with nuts and another with crispy rice thingies. He added them to the pile and breathed a sigh of relief when the kid asked him if he wanted a bag.
“Please!”
*****
John returned to the car, package in hand. It was a nice brown paper bag, the top of which he’d folded over. He slid into the front passenger’s side and settled it onto the floor boards. Max still hadn’t come out, but he wasn’t as worried as he would have been.
“What did you get?” Sammy asked curiously. John looked up and took in both boys.
“None of your business,” he told them amicably. “Just leave it alone.” Dean and Sam exchanged a glance. Dean shrugged and turned back to a book he was perusing. Sam frowned, but dismissed it. It was probably something to snack on later. They waited a few more minutes for Max to return and nothing more was said once she was in the car. She wasn’t looking at John or the boys, but that seemed par for the day and they ignored her just as easily. Both Sam and Dean wondered in their own way what had passed between their father and sister, if in fact anything was said. But neither John nor Max seemed inclined to discuss anything.
This time, they were able to go for a few hours before John called another halt. This time they all went in again, since the boys were starting to feel hunger gnawing at their bellies. The crackers were long gone and John hadn’t said anything about what was in the bag. Dean grabbed some chips and some more pop while Sam perused the pre-wrapped sandwiches, before giving in and imitating his brother. They were back in the car before their Dad or Max though and curiosity was burning up Sam’s mind.
“What do you think he got Dean?” he asked his brother suddenly.
Dean glanced up from his bag of chips. “Huh?”
“The bag,” Sam gestured to the floor. “What do you think is in it?”
“I don’t know,” Dean grimaced, and then popped another chip in his mouth. He watched his brother carefully, seeing the younger man’s hand twitching. “Leave it alone Sammy,” he warned.
“I wasn’t gonna,” Sam snapped, even though he had been tempted.
“Dad said to leave it alone,” Dean reiterated. “So leave it alone.”
“Aren’t you curious?” Sam demanded. Dean shrugged. “Really? Not at all.”
“Not really Sammy,” Dean grinned. Truthfully, he was curious. But he could curb that nature when he needed to and right now was one of those times.
“Well I want to know,” Sam decided as he checked out the window to see if his father or Max was coming. He dove for the bag and brought it up to his lap.
“Sammy!” Dean’s voice was threatening. Bu the kid was already yanking the top open.
“Oh!” Sam’s disgust and shock was painfully evident in his voice. “That is just…” He turned and thrust the bag under Dean’s nose. There was no way his brother could not see what was sitting right on top of everything.
“Oh!” Dean repeated his little brother’s woe. “Thanks Sammy! Thanks a lot. I really didn’t need to see that.” He pushed the bag away.
Sam grinned as he took the bag back and perused the contents again. He was relieved a little, when he looked up again at his brother. “Well at least we know why Max is being so bitchy today.”
“Yeah,” Dean agreed. “Solves that little mystery.”
“Oh man,” Sam groaned. “You know what this means, don’t you?” He looked horrified. “We’re gonna have to deal with this every month now.”
Dean let his head fall back against the seat, his hands covering his eyes as his heels ground at cheekbones. “Shut up Sammy! Just stop. I really don’t want to think about Maxie… Argh!”
Sam grinned again; delight in tormenting Dean overriding the natural tendency for boys to freak out about this stuff. Unfortunately, as he let his mood lighten, he also let his guard drop and he never noticed his father’s approach until the car door began to open. With lightening speed, he threw the bag onto the floor. John casually got into the car, another package in hand, and glanced down at the slightly askew bag from before.
He calmly set down the new bag, pulled the car door shut and then turned in his seat. “Now, when I tell you to stay out of something, you’re going to stay out of it, right?”
Both boys were hanging their heads, blushes suffusing their cheeks. “Yes sir,” they mumbled together. John laughed and let the matter drop. That would certainly teach those boys to listen to their father. Now he just wondered who had instigated this. His money was on Sam, since Dean was in the backseat and more inclined to follow his father’s directives. Didn’t matter though, he’d caught them both. The blushes told him that much.
Max finally returned, her face glistening from a fresh scrubbing. John reached into the second bag at his feet and pulled a small bottle of ginger ale from it. He passed it back to Max, who took it without a word. They got underway again, their thoughts tumbling round their heads.
Dean watched Max surreptitiously, trying to acclimate to this new dimension of his sister. It wasn’t like this whole thing was new to him. He’d had enough health classes and casual girlfriends, locker talk and man to man talks with his father to know about this stuff. But you just didn’t go around thinking about your little sister becoming a woman. The two things were just meant to be separate. At least for now. But, he mused, as hard as this was on him and Sam and their Dad, it must be a lot tougher for Max. Here she was surrounded by guys, who knew almost nothing about what was happening to her. She didn’t have a woman she could talk to. And from the little he heard and understood about the process, it really wasn’t that pleasant for some women. So he figured they’d have to cut her some slack for the extra crankiness. And if it happened every month, well, they’d learn to deal with it. Another glance at his sister told him that she was getting sleepy.
“Hey dad?” he called softly up to the front. John turned his head. “Are we going to be stopping soon?”
“Yeah,” John nodded. “First hotel we hit, we’ll check in, then go get some dinner. Okay?”
“Sounds good,” he agreed. But Max apparently, couldn’t wait that long.
She’d fallen asleep again; her head nestled up against the window. But every time they went across the slightest bump in the road, she was jostled awake from her head banging on the unyielding glass. Finally they hit a stretch of smoother road and she was asleep for almost ten minutes. But Dean knew that wouldn’t last. That’s why he rarely slept in the car now. Felling more than just a little sorry for Max, he carefully eased her over so that she was more towards the center of the backseat. That change in position was enough to make her upper torso slide towards him. Her head came to rest against his upper arm.
With a sigh, Dean carefully unearthed his arm and let her fall fully against his chest. He turned slightly and Max sighed in her sleep as she made herself comfortable. With a hidden thoughtfulness that people rarely saw from him, aside from his own family, he pulled his coat from his bag and laid it across her. With Max taken care of, he reached for his book again; one arm wrapped around her and lost himself for the rest of the trip in a fantasy world where the author made laughable use of things Dean’s family faced on a near daily basis.
When they pulled into, as John promised, the first motel they came across, Max still had not awoken. John turned and perused his eldest and youngest for a moment.
“After I check us in, you boys take a walk, okay,” he instructed. They both nodded. He left them then and though he tried to be quiet, the car door shutting woke Max. She sat straight up, surprise and confusion in her eyes.
“Hey sleepy head,” Dean smiled. Max glanced around, seeing that they were finally at the end of that day’s journey.
“Hey,” she responded hesitantly.
“Did you sleep okay?” Sam asked politely. Max shrugged, then nodded.
“I guess I make a decent pillow, huh Sammy?” Dean chuckled. “I’ll have to remember that.” He glanced at Max and took in her blush and took pity on her. “Don’t worry, you weren’t drooling or anything. Not that I was worried you would or anything when I rescued you.”
“Rescued me?” she repeated, clearly confused.
“Yeah,” Dean snorted. “Rescued you from a migraine. Man, the way your head was bouncing against the window, you could have ended up with a real nasty one.”
“Oh,” was her short reply. “Well, thank you.”
“No problem,” Dean shrugged. Max ducked her head again and then peeked up at him through her slightly tangled hair.
“I’m sorry,” she finally mumbled. “About earlier, I mean.”
“It’s okay,” he dismissed her behavior with a quick flick of his head to one side. “Everyone’s entitled to a bad day now and then.”
“But still,” Sammy interjected, “it needed to be said.”
Max apparently agreed with him and nodded. “I didn’t mean to be so bitchy.”
“So,” Dean shrugged. “Just next time tell us you’re in a bad mood. We’ll lay off.”
“Oh you would not,” Max shrieked suddenly, though her eyes were dancing merrily. “You’d just keep picking on me.”
“Who me?” Dean tried to sound innocent, but clearly neither sibling was convinced. They stared at him with knowing eyes. Finally he gave in. “Yeah you’re right. I would pick,” he poked her shoulder, “On.” Another poke on the leg. “You!” A final poke on the knee.
“Quit it,” Max giggled, trying to shove his hand away.
“No,” Dean grunted, continuing to poke. He was just glad that Max was in a better mood now. “Poke, poke, poke. I’m the big brother; I have to pick on the kiddies. It’s my sacred birthright.”
“Quit it, quit it, quit it!” Max shrieked between laughter. Sam’s laughter joined hers and Dean turned to smirk at his brother.
“Don’t think I’m gonna quit picking on you either Sammy boy!”
“Oh no!” Sam yelled, backing away the minimal distance that the front seat afforded him, too busy laughing to protest his despised nickname. Dean started wiggling his fingers, but was distracted when Max got in a cheap shot under his arm. He turned back to her, fingers searching out tickle spots. In moments, he had her howling, while her feet kicked at the floor in a wild staccato beat.
“You give?” he finally demanded. Max, breathless, nodded and he let her sit up. Only to be surprised when she leaned forward and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. He pulled back, staring at her with his brows furrowed. “What was that for?”
“For being such a good big brother,” she shrugged, blushing slightly again. Dean’s face softened, the feel of her warm lips pressed against his cheek and the sentiment behind it sizzling itself into his brain. She really was a one of a kind kid.
Before the antics could start up again, John returned. He motioned the kids out of the car and they obeyed immediately. He handed one of his cards to Dean and told him and Sam to go see about some food while he and Max unloaded the car. Knowing his full intent, the boys hurried away, leaving John to turn to Max. With a kind smile, he retrieved the keys for the trunk. He handed Max the room key, pointing out which room they’d been assigned. She dutifully opened the door and then returned to the trunk to help carry in bags.
She thought they had everything but John made one more trip to the car to retrieve the bags from earlier. Max could see on his face when he came in with them and shut the door behind him, that something serious was going on in his mind. He gestured for her to sit and she sat warily on the corner of the bed further from the door.
John with uncharacteristic nervousness took a seat on the bed across from her. He set the packages beside himself and then turned to stare at her for a moment, unsure how to start.
“Um, I sent the boys for dinner so we could talk,” he informed her quietly. Max could feel a sense of dread welling up in her throat.
“Okay,” she replied, just as hesitant as he was.
“I was talking earlier today, with that lady… in the gas station,” he told her. Max’s mind flew to the only woman he could possibly be referring to. The woman from the bathroom. What did she know? What did she say? Max’s mind was screaming at her. She nodded slowly, trying to breathe deeply. John glanced away and scratched at the back of his head. “She um, she told you that you might need this,” he got out the words in a rush before grabbing up the first bag and thrusting it into her hands.
Max stared at him, puzzled before her gaze dropped to the bag. She carefully opened the top, unable to imagine what might be in store for her. And when she realized what she was looking at, she was surprised and oddly, touched as she was fully able to understand why John was so nervous. Her hand reached into the brown paper container as a glint of silver caught her eye. She pulled out five chocolate bars and an impish grin stretched her mouth.
“You got me chocolate bars?” she asked shyly. John shook his head, an answering smile on his face to match her own.
“Mary, the boys mom,” he tried to explain. “Well, she always craved chocolate, you know, at that time of the month.” He shrugged. “I didn’t know if you would to, but I thought it couldn’t hurt.”
Max’s eyes misted up, the shared concern of her family touching her deeply. This was why Dean and Sammy were being so understanding now with her. They all thought… but they didn’t know that that wasn’t the case. Max dropped the candy back into the bag. “Thank you,” and she really meant it. Here they all were trying their hardest to make this better for her, even though they themselves didn’t really know how to handle it.
“That woman, Donna,” John rushed on, “she told me how you could make a hot water bottle too, in case you’re sore or something.” He then pulled out an empty jug and Max was puzzled about where, why and how John had gotten it. He obviously saw that and explained wryly. “There was a small Laundromat at the last place we stopped.” She nodded dumbly, still not understanding. “You fill it up with hot water,” John explained patiently. “To use on your um… back. Or wherever else. Mary’s legs used to cramp up,” he mumbled.
“Oh, um okay,” Max muttered. She took the empty bottle from him and set it beside her. “Was, uh, was that what you wanted to talk to me about?”
“Uh, yeah, I guess,” John stammered. “Um, unless you had some questions or something, uh about it all.”
“Well,” Max drawled nervously. Was it possible that she could ask John about things? True, he seemed very embarrassed, but she could sense that he genuinely wanted to help her. She decided to go ahead and take a chance. Of course there were details that she’d most definitely leave out. “This um,” she gestured to the bag, “this wasn’t what was bothering me, uh, today.”
“Oh,” the relief on John’s face was palpable. “What was it then?” Max blushed and glanced away and John forced himself to think the day through. This had all started this morning after Max had woken up to a bad dream. She’d been cranky all day. But John focused on that. A bad dream. Max never really had bad dreams before. And then again, it suddenly clicked. “Your bad dream wasn’t really a bad dream, was it?”
He was glad to see that Max looked relieved as well. She nodded, still battling a blush. “It was um, more of a, um…”
“Bad as in a little more grown up than you’re used to?” John asked, now amused. He could deal with this. It was a lot safer and more familiar territory for him. After all, he’d managed this when it happened to the boys. Granted, a girl’s take on things might be different. Max nodded and John drew in a deep breath. “Okay, we can handle this. I’m just going to tell you the same thing I told Dean and Sam. Except of course, for a girl.” He was pleased when that got a small giggle out of her.
“You probably had a dream about a boy, right?” She nodded. “And in this dream, you were doing things that I don’t, really don’t want to hear, right?” Again she nodded. “The thing is, though, it is completely normal to have dreams like that.”
“But,” Max protested, frustrated. “This boy that I was dreaming about, I don’t… like him like that, you know?”
“Just a friend?” John asked knowingly. Max nodded. He shrugged it off. “It doesn’t matter,” he informed her kindly. “Right now, your brain and your body are kind of on different wave lengths. Your brain is saying, hey, that’s my friend. And your body is saying boy! We like boys!” Max laughed heartily at that. “It’s okay though. Your mind is just figuring out that boys are for more than being your brother or your dad or just a friend. One day you’ll grow up and want to date and get married and your brain will start liking boys the way your body does.” He sighed and held her gaze. “Does that answer your questions?”
Max nodded happily. It certainly did. Because technically, Dean wasn’t her blood brother, so her body didn’t know the difference. If they were blood kin, she was certain she wouldn’t have those types of dreams about him. And like John said, it was just her body going naturally haywire, like everyone else’s. Plus there was the fact that Sam and Dean had gone through this. So it wasn’t way out of this world. John held out his arms and Max moved to let him embrace her. He stood and hugged her, hunching over to drop a kiss on her head.
“Just do me a favor kiddo,” he whispered. Max glanced up. “Just don’t like boys too much yet. Okay?”
“Okay,” she giggled.
John left Max to settle in and see if he could find the boys. It wasn’t hard, as they were just now returning with an armload of pizza boxes. There was relief in Dean’s eyes when he saw his father approach and he nudged his brother, who was bearing most of the supper load.
“Hey, you found something edible?” John grinned, his mood considerably lighter since getting things out in the open with Max.
“Amazingly enough,” Dean smirked, “pizza that only took twenty minutes.”
“Smells good,” John approved and moved to take the boxes from Sam.
“You haven’t had to carry it for three blocks,” Sam rumbled good-naturedly. They turned to continue walking back to the motel.
“So Dad,” Dean clapped his father on the shoulder with his free hand that wasn’t carrying soda. “You had the big, bad, scary sex talk with Max?”
“Dean!” Sam groaned. “We don’t need to hear about it?”
“I wasn’t asking for details Sammy,” Dean grinned. “Just wanted to make sure Dad was doing his duty.”
“Yes Dean,” John drawled, ruffling his son’s hair. “I had the talk with Max. And I must say, it went a lot better than yours.” Dean’s eyes narrowed dangerously, the very moment that John brought that up. But John pushed on relentlessly. “At least she didn’t ask me why they call an erection-!”
“No!” Dean shouted, rushing to his brother and clamping his hands over Sammy’s ears. “No, no, no, no, no! We’re not discussing this!”
“What?” Sam demanded “What’d Dean say Dad?” He tried fruitlessly to push Dena’s hands off him but Dean was resolute.
“You said that was private,” Dean protested over John’s laughter. “You promised!” he thundered accusingly. Sam finally managed to get away from his brother, waiting breathlessly for a tidbit that he could torment his older brother with, but when John finally stopped laughing, Sam was doomed to disappointment.
“He’s right son, that was a private talk,” John apologized. “Just like ours was.”
“Thank god,” Dean growled. John pointed out their assigned room, which wasn’t difficult to find, since Max had opened the door for them when she heard their voices. They settled down to eat and things seemed to be back to normal.
*****
But normal for them wasn’t the normal everyone else enjoyed. A few weeks down the road, Max awoke to discover that while she’d made a silly mistake, purchasing that feminine care product in front of that woman, Donna, and setting off that tempest in a teacup, John wasn’t really all that hasty in buying her that little care package.
But what really had her flummoxed was the fact that she didn’t need it again for another five months. At least this time she had some warning. When the dreams started up again, with Dean being even more of a naughty boy and then to her relief, a dream about an actor from a television show they enjoyed, Max was forewarned. And like clockwork, two weeks later, she was into that care package.
When she came out from her morning ablutions, John and the boys were discussing breakfast. There were a few places to choose from and John wanted to order something to go and just eat on the road.
“What do you think Max?” he asked off-handedly. “What do you feel like eating?”
“Um,” she thought for a moment, remembering back to Dean’s suggestion that she warn them about being in a bad mood and this seemed like it was going to be one of those days. “A chocolate bar sounds really good right now.”
John was startled for a moment and then he grinned. She grimaced back at him, looking cross and he understood perfectly. That time again. “All right princess,” he sighed. “I don’t know about chocolate bars but I’m sure we can find you something along that line.”
Sam and Dean were caught off guard, since they knew nothing of what had transpired during the father daughter talk way back when. But when John mouthed the words ‘that time of the month’ to them, they understood. And in silent agreement, decided to lay off any teasing or anything that might get them kicked.
But as John was musing about it later, another night in another motel, he admitted to himself that he’d been a little worried. Truthfully, he thought that Max would have been like she’d been today, cranky, out of sorts, tired, long before. By his count, it had been months, since he couldn’t remember any incidents between. He wondered if something might be… wrong. Or abnormal. Or maybe he was just worrying too much about things he knew very little about.
He wished fervently then that Mary was still alive. That she could handle this problem for him. Although they wouldn’t have been in this situation since it was Mary’s death that ultimately led to their adopting Max. But if they’d had a daughter of their own… Really though, it wasn’t specifically Mary. He just needed a woman that could talk to Max. Someone she trusted. And there were few of those. He supposed he could always call Ellen Harvelle. Except that she’d likely be inclined to hunt him down and shoot him over past mistakes rather than advise him on little girls growing up.
John sat up from his spot on the floor. Why hadn’t he thought of it earlier? Molly Gallagher! Max routinely talked with the older lady, calling or writing her every few months. She was certainly someone Max could feel comfortable with. And John trusted her. Feeling the need to put thought into action, he mentally calculated the time difference between here and Montana. It should be just before ten there and he knew that Molly would still be up.
Slipping out from under the blanket, John found his coat and phone. He quietly slipped out of the motel room and slid into the Impala. He looked up Molly’s number in his notebook from the glove box. And thankfully, the woman answered after two rings.
“Hello?”
“Molly? It’s John Winchester.”
“Oh John! How wonderful to hear from you. Is everything okay?” It was evident in her voice that she truly was delighted to hear from him.
“Everything’s pretty good,” John replied automatically.
“And Max and Sam and Dean,” Molly continued pressing. “They’re all well.”
That kind of gave John an unexpected glow of happiness. Most people would just ask after the kids, but not Molly. She listed each one, because they all mattered to her. Not just his little girl that she’d taken under her wing. He knew instinctively that he’d done the right thing, calling her.
“It’s actually about Max that I called you,” John told her.
“Okay,” Molly was all business. “What’s the problem?”
“Well,” for some reason John didn’t feel the embarrassment that he’d thought he’d feel discussing these matters with another woman. Perhaps it was because Molly was old enough to be his mother. “You know that Max has grown up a bit since you last saw her?”
“Yes,” Molly chuckled. “She told me so the last time she called me.” There was a pause. “Is that what has you worried?”
“No, not really,” John chuckled. “I can handle it. I guess.” He sighed and got back on track. “No, the problem is, is that she isn’t really, well regular.”
“Regular how?” Molly demanded. “Do you mean for pain or… what?”
“No, I mean, it’s been a while between them,” John clarified. “By my count, about four or five months.” He inhaled deeply. “Is that normal at her age?”
“Oh goodness yes,” Molly laughed. “Although I don’t recall my girls going so long, but when a young girl first starts out, it takes time for her body to establish itself.”
“Oh good,” John sighed in relief.
“I’m just surprised that you’ve been keeping track,” Molly teased.
“Well, I thought it might be a good idea to know when PMS hits,” John half-joked.
“Is it bad?” Molly asked drolly.
“Well, she hasn’t thrown anything at us yet,” John sighed. “Mary used to, once in a while.” Molly wisely refrained from commenting on that.
“Well, have you thought John that just because she didn’t have PMS, the other didn’t happen?”
“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that,” John was surprised. He thought the two naturally went hand in hand.
“Or,” Molly went on, “oh, have you heard of secretary’s syndrome?”
“I can’t say that I have.”
“Well the theory goes that when a group of women work together, the female with the strongest hormones sets the lead, if you take my meaning,” Molly explained. “And the rest of the women follow suit. It’s the same with mothers and daughters. Generally the daughters follow after their mothers.”
“But Max doesn’t have her mom,” John concluded quietly.
“Which means that her body is having to establish it’s own patterns with no help whatsoever,” Molly finished for him. There was quiet for a moment. “And you know, I just thought…”
“Yes?” John asked, clearing his throat.
“I had read somewhere, about young women athletes, they don’t seem to have a regular set schedule either,” Molly mused. “And Max is quite athletic. Perhaps that’s a contributing factor.”
“Maybe,” John agreed dubiously. He straightened up in the car. “So basically you’re telling me I don’t really need to worry?”
“Not at all John,” Molly chuckled. “Just give her some time to let her body get itself sorted out. I’d say that if she hasn’t established a set routine within the next few years, then perhaps you should think of seeing a doctor. But as long as it’s happening, I don’t think it will be a problem.”
“Okay,” John said as the weight was lifted from his chest.
“And tell Max to give me a call,” Molly instructed. “I’ll help her sort through this and set her mind at ease. You know, if you’re worried about it, she’s probably going slightly nutty.”
“Probably,” he agreed with a laugh.
“And John,” Molly sounded all serious now. “You and the boys don’t need an excuse to call me either. Sam and Dean have just as much right to call me as Max does.”
Again, John was touched. “I’ll pass that message on. Thank you Molly.”
“It was my pleasure John,” she replied. “You take care now.”
They hung up and John returned to the room. His heart was much lighter and his mind at ease. Now he could get back to the regular mess his life happened to be.
Chapter Nineteen
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