Children shouldn't play with dead things

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Then

A three year old Darcey Winchester sat the kitchen table.
A big glass of milk and a plain peanut butter sandwich with no crust,
sat in front of her.
The child watched the blond woman as she washed some dishes.
Her feet dangle off the chair, and her head bobbed as she munched.
The mother hummed the familiar tune that she sings to her children when she puts them to sleep.
"Mommy?" The little girl asks
The very pregnant Mary turns around to face her only daughter.
"Yes?" She answers and watches as she licks the peanut butter off her small fingers.
She grabbed a cloth and went over to the girl and wiped her sticky hands clean.
"Where's Dean?" She asked
Darcey hasn't seen her brother this morning. Not since they woke up.
Mary smiles
"He's probably with your father in the garage." She tells her.
Darcey nodded.
"Where do babies come from?" The girl asked looking at her mother's stomach, Curiosity in her green-blue eyes.

Mary laughs. Her daughter and son have become very intelligent at they're age, and she wasn't surprised her daughter Darcey was the first one to ask that question.
"How about you ask me when you are a little older, yeah?" She tells her, not ready to explain that complicated, well, semi complicated process, to her three year old.

Darcey nods her head, Accepting the mother's request. But little did the girl know though, that it wasn't going to happen, at least not with her in the picture.
Though, when she was older, she and her brother would have to listen to a vary uncomfortable speech from her father about some stork and something about birds and bees.

"Mommy?" She asks again when she finishes her lunch.
"Yes, my love?"
"Can I go see Dean and Daddy now?"
Smiling, the mother says, "yes. Tell Dean that it's time for his lunch, okay?"
"Okay!" Darcey runs of.
Mary Winchester could tell by just looking into her daughters eyes that she was going to be powerful.
More powerful then anything anyone has ever seen before.

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Now

"Come on, Sam, I'm begging you. This is stupid." Dean says as he drives down the empty road.
Darcey Winchester sat in the back of the impala, her son beside her.
They were on they're way to visit, to Sam's request, they're moms grave.

When the oldest child was small, she was more of a daddy's girl then a mommy's girl. Up until her mother died, of course.
Growing up, she was still close with her father, not as close as Dean was, but close no less. but that changed.
With her mother though, they had,
a special bond, if you will, because she was Mary's only girl, so they did girly things, talked about girly things, and did things Mary couldn't do with her son.
Like shopping and such.
But Darcey always did feel like she didn't fit in well with her parents, not  like Dean did.
He was close with they're mother until she died, but then became closer with they're father, until he died as well.

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