Where The Devil Don't Go

Dean - Four

Imagine: giving birth to Dean's child in the Impala.
*(F/S) = favourite snack*

"You got snacks?" You question, hauling your heavy duffle bag onto your shoulder.
Dean looks up from packing his own bag and rushes over to you.
"Yes, and give me that bag. You need to be relaxing." He scolds you lightly as he shifts the bag onto his shoulder. "Are you sure you should be coming with us? You can stay here, and Cas can pop in to check on you."
"Dean, honey, I am fine. I've been pregnant for nine months; I don't need you to start worrying now." You smile brightly. "Plus, I need to get out of this place. It's driving me crazy."
He glances to the floor, and you gently place a hand on his muscular arm.
"I'm ok. We're ok."
"I'm just worried. This dad stuff is scary. Scarier than any monster I have ever faced. What if I drop the baby? Or put its nappy on backwards?"
You snort with laughter; surprising Dean and for the first time his green eyes look into yours. You stop for a moment and stare at the man you love, the man who stole your heart. His eyes are more than plain old green. They are the green that brings the earth back to life after an unforgiving cold. The green that revives grass from the harsh conditions of winter. The green, that even in the darkest of times can be that light that shows you the way home. The beacon of hope in the dreariest of days.
"Dean Winchester, you are the best hunter, the best husband, and soon you will be the best father. You've got this."
You stand on your tiptoes and cup his face as you lean in for a kiss. Dean kisses you back, his lips are hot to the touch.
"Come on, Sam will be waiting." You grin, walking out of the room.
You hear Dean chuckle as he follows close behind.

Sam is sat in the passenger seat of the Impala, his head in a book as usual. You tap on the window and he jumps at the sudden noise; hitting his head on the window. You laugh, as he sticks his middle finger up at you, and you climb into the back seat.
"Very funny, (Y/N)." He turns to face you, a small scowl on his face.
"Hey, you got my special snack?" You question, leaning forward in your seat.
Sam nods, holding up a bag of (F/S). Your eyes go wide as you reach for the bag of goodies. Sam pulls the bag away and you pout.
"I don't think you deserve these." He shrugs.
"What?" You whine, your mouth hanging open.
Tears fill your eyes as you think about those little snacks in that bag. Just sitting there, not fulfilling their purpose of feeding you. Dean opens the driver's side door and climbs in, his face filled with worry as he looks back at you.
"(Y/N)? What's wrong?" He reaches back and wipes a tear from your cheek.
"S-Sam, won't g-give me my snacks." You cry.
Dean throws his brother a killer glare.
"Sammy!" He growls. "Don't hold (Y/N)'s snacks from her. You know how emotional she gets. The other night when I was eating pie, she started crying because I left a piece of apple and it wasn't with its friends."
Sam smirks but quickly passes you the snacks.
"I'm sorry, (Y/N)." He mutters.
You smile through the tears.
"Thank you."

The first two hours of the trip are uneventful. You eat your snacks and force Dean to stop every few miles so you can wee. Then you listen to the radio for a bit and sing along to songs with Dean. As the sun starts to set, you all settle down. Sam starts napping, while you relax back and stare out of the window. It's all fun and games ... until you feel a warmth spreading across the black leather seats and then you feel a gush of water from down below.

"Shit." You state simply.
Dean's eyes find yours in the rear-view mirror.
"You ok back there?" He asks. "There isn't another stop for at least an hour and a half. You'll have to hold it in or use a bottle." He sniggers at the last part.
"It might be a little bit too late for that." You mutter, shifting in your seat.
Another gush of water comes out and you take a deep breath.
"I don't want to alarm anyone, but I think my water just broke. That or my bladder has failed, and I've pissed in the Impala."
Dean's face flushes a pale white, and for a moment you think he's going to pass out. Sam stirs from his hunched position.
"What's going on?" He asks with a yawn.
"(Y/N) pissed herself." Dean mutters, almost trance-like.
You scoff. "Hey! I did not piss myself. I think the-"
And then a pain that is unlike anything you have ever felt before hits you. You arch your back as your whole body shudders.
"Shit. Shit. Shit."
You break into a sweat, gripping the back of Sam's seat.
"(Y/N)!" Sam's voice sounds so far away.
"Holy crap, I think the baby is coming." You pant, staring at your husband as he carries on diving.
"What do you want me to do?" Dean questions, his eyes wild and his voice frantic.
"Drive!" You yell, panic flooding your body. "I need drugs, I am not doing this on my own."
"Hey, it's ok. We're both here." Sam smiles, placing a hand on your shoulder.
"Remove your hand or I will rip your arm off and beat you to death with it." You threaten, gritting your teeth together.
Sam quickly removes his hand and you brace yourself for another contraction.

"It's happening too fast." You grumble. "Dean, stop the car!"
He pulls to the side of the road, but remains in the driver's seat, clutching the wheel. Sam, on the other hand, climbs out and opens the back door.
"I need you to take my pants off." You command, wincing in pain.
Sam nods, looking towards Dean, who remains seated. With a deep breath, Sam tugs off your jeans, leaving you in just your panties.
"I need something to cover me."
Sam removes his jacket and covers the top of your legs. You scream out in pain, tears falling down your face. Dean finally snaps out of his daze and twists to face you, grasping your hand in his. You stare into his eyes, biting down on your lip till you feel blood.
"I can't do this." You whisper, desperation in your voice.
"(Y/N) Winchester, you are the best hunter, the best wife, and soon you will be the best mother. You can do this. I am here, and I will not leave your side."
You gaze at the man you love, realising that you would go through this pain a hundred more times if it meant being with him.

The night draws on. The air becomes cooler, a welcoming feel to your burning skin. Dean hasn't once let go of your hand, not even when you sunk your teeth into his forearm as a bad contraction hit. Sam has stayed at the other end of you. Using his watch to time your contractions.
"It feels like I'm taking a giant, fiery poop!" You groan, squeezing Dean's hand even tighter.
Sam removes your underwear and with confirmation from both you and Dean checks how far dilated you are.
"I think you're nearly ready." He looks up at you.
Dean strokes your (H/C) sweaty hair.
"Come on, (Y/N/N), you can do this."

With each contraction comes a pain that dominates your entire being. In these moments, for those seconds that stretch into infinity, there is nothing else. As the pain passes it is only for a minute or so and you breathe with closed eyes, unwilling to re-engage with life outside of your own body. The car might as well have been empty for all the awareness you have, and when Sam and Dean do talk, touch, gain your attention you find it so hard to drag yourself forward. To use your voice. Open your eyes. With a guttural grunt, you follow Sam's instructions and push, once is enough. You feel the baby crowning, the hot stretching of flesh and you hold your breath.
"It feels like someone is ripping my vagina apart!" You croak, your voice not sounding like your own.
Another push, and another. Then suddenly, without any further effort, the baby slides into the hands of Sam. There is elation, a baby at last, and in seconds it is wrapped in Dean's jacket, nascent eyes opening, mouth rooting for milk. You release a breath. A laugh erupts from your throat as you fall back onto the back seat of the Impala, panting as you try and catch your breath.

"You did it!" Dean grins, flashing you a smile that could light up a city.
"I am never doing that again." You warn. "Next time, wrap it up, Mister."
Dean laughs, climbing over the seat and hugging you awkwardly.
"I love you so much." He whispers, connecting your lips.
"I love you."

Sam passes you your tiny baby, its body is still slick as you hold her close to your chest. Dean lets Sam drive as he sits in the back with you and the little unnamed one.
"What about Impala?" Dean suggests.
You stare dumbfounded at your husband.
"You are not naming our child Impala."