A Love Made in Heaven with Hellish Consequences

Re: My Bloody Valentine

Lynda couldn't help but smile as she listened to John speak as she continued to caress his cheek softly. Once he was done speaking and it was her turn and so she began to speak to him with a smile on her face. "I try to be, though I do have the best family in the world," she told him with a huge smile. "And there is something about being in you arms that just makes me feel better and safe in a way, well, I can't explain," she told him. "And as for not giving up on you and the boys," she said. "I could never do that. You guys are my family, well, at least one of my families anyway," she said with a chuckle.

Then feeling her body being pulled close to John's hot body, she couldn't help but smile softly and sweetly. She couldn't help but feel the heat of his body and she loved every minute of it. She felt safe and secure as she began to speak to him again. Though before speaking to him, Lynda couldn't help but sit up for a moment, which caused her to look deep into his eyes. She gave him a huge smile as she leaned down and softly and passionately kissed him.Then after Lynda broke the kiss, she began to speak to John softly. "Well, you know you can always ask me to remarry you," she said jokingly, though she had that serious tone in her voice as he brought up the subject of a new baby.

"Well.....you do have some time to think about it," she said with a smile. "But I do have to tell you, a couple of montths ago, Ben and I had sex and I mean A LOT of sex," she said. "So, I'm pretty sure there's alrerady a bun in the oven," she told him honestly. Then she got that look in her eye and that grin on her face. "But that won't stop me from having a good time," she told him as she sat up. "You know how I horney I get when I'm pregnant," she smirked as she then rolled out of bed and sared to move slowly and seductively. "You wait right here an let me get myself ready," she smirked. "I'll be back shortly, my sexy demon tamer," she winked at him and then disappeared into the bathroom. 

Re: My Bloody Valentine

John didn't say anything right away. He just lay there for a moment, watching the bathroom door close behind her, a slow, crooked smile spreading across his face. He let out a low chuckle, shaking his head slightly as he pushed himself up against the pillows.

"Well damn," he muttered softly to himself, warmth and disbelief tangled together in his chest.

He ran a hand over his face, then through his hair, still feeling the echo of her kiss on his lips and the weight of her body against his. When he finally spoke again, his voice carried easily down the hall, roughened by affection and something far more heated.

"You know," he called after her, a teasing edge slipping in, "most men would need a warning label with a woman like you."

He exhaled slowly, his expression softening as the humor faded into something more serious. His eyes drifted to the ceiling, then back toward the bathroom door.

"But... a baby," he said quietly, more to himself than anyone else. A mix of awe and nerves crossed his face. "That's a hell of a thing to drop on a guy."

Still, there was no fear in his voice—just wonder.

When she didn't immediately reappear, he smiled again, this time slower, more tender.

"You already know I'd never run," he added, his tone steady and sincere. "Not from you. Not from a kid. Not from a life that actually feels... real."

John shifted, settling back into the bed, eyes bright with anticipation.

"And for the record," he said with a smirk, stretching his arms behind his head, "if you're gonna call me your 'sexy demon tamer,' I'm gonna need you to hurry back in here and remind me exactly why I earned that title."

He waited, patient but very aware, listening for the sound of her moving in the bathroom—heart full, pulse racing, and absolutely certain he wasn't going anywhere.

Re: My Bloody Valentine

Lynda smirked and then chuckled as she was in the bathroom getting herself ready. Then she slipped into her new leather jacket, which left her mid-section exposed. She also left it unzipped as she was putting on her dark red lipstick. Once she was done with all of that, she moved back to see how she looked and then smiled. She looked like Negan, only in girl form, which is what she was going for. Then she went to the bathroom door and finally began to speak to him. "You knew what you were marrying when you met me," she said with a laugh as she opened the door and stuck her head out of it. There was something else she needed to get to make her surprise complete. "Besides, how was I to know I was going to fall in love with brothers?" she asked him with a giggle and then got serious. "Baby, close your eyes for a little bit please," she said.

John let out a huff and then closed his eyes. Once she was sure that his eyes were closed, she ran out of their room and into the hall closet and pulled out the other surprise. After she pulled it out, she threw it gently over her shoulder as she spoke again, making sure to reply to everything John said before showing off her new things. "I know that, but it's only fair that I tell you, so you don't go jumping to conclusions. I know you'll love this baby as if it were your own, even though it's Ben's" she added know that he was already sitting up with his eyes open. Lynda closed the hall closet door and then went over and opened their bedroom door and stood there looking like hell and sex on legs. "So, what do you think?" she asked him as she moved the ax from her shoulder to the front of her so that John could see exactly how much she wanted to look like him, only sexier. 

Re: My Bloody Valentine

John froze for half a heartbeat.

Then his mouth curved—slow, stunned, and a little feral.

"Well I'll be damned," he murmured, sitting up fully now, eyes tracking every inch of her like he was committing it to memory. His gaze lingered on the jacket, the lipstick, the way she held the axe like it was an extension of her spine instead of a weapon. "You don't look like me," he added, voice rough with admiration. "You look like you took the idea and made it smarter."

He huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "Hell and sex on legs is about right," he said, reaching out but stopping himself halfway, palms flexing like it took effort not to touch. "You know that, right? If I ran into you on the road dressed like that, I'd either fall in line or get myself killed trying to impress you."

His eyes softened then—still heated, but warm underneath it. "And hey," he said more quietly, meaning it, "thank you for trusting me enough to tell me. About the baby. About all of it." He nodded once, firm. "That kid's gonna be loved. No doubts. No conditions."

John finally reached for her, fingers brushing her wrist, thumb grazing the handle of the axe. "But this?" he added, smirking again. "This is you saying you're with me. Side by side. And damn, Lynda... I've never been prouder—or more turned on—of the woman I married."

He leaned back against the headboard, eyes never leaving her.
"So," he finished, low and amused, "you gonna keep standing there looking dangerous, or are you gonna come remind me exactly why the world should be scared of both of us?"

Re: My Bloody Valentine

Lynda couldn't help but smile and then chuckle a little bit. She could see all over John's face written how much he was enjoying seeing her in her demon hunting gear, with her new toy in her hands. But it wasn't until after he said that he didn't look like her but took the idea and made it look smarter, her grin became even bigger. She couldn't help but comment on what he just told her. "You think so?" she asked him loving what he said. "I wasn't trying to take the look away from you or make it look better on me," she said half playfully and half joking. "I was just trying to be super sexy for you," she said softly and yet happy with herself that she looked the way she did. She couldn't help but blush as she listened to the rest of what John was telling. Once he was dong speaking, Lynda put her axe next to the door and walked over to the bed. Then she crawled on the bed and then straddled herself on John's mid-section as she looked down at him with a smile. Then she began to speak softly and sweetly to her husband still wearing that smile on her face.

"If you ask me, you would have done both," she smirked and then leaned down and softly started to nibble softly and teasingly on his ear. "Oh, I'm show you just exactly why the world should be afraid of me," she whispered into his ear, sending more pleasurable vibes throughout John's body as she not only continued to nibble on his ear, but let her hot breath blow gently into his ear. She stopped only momentarily to look deep into John's eyes. "I will always tell you everything that's going on inside and outside of me. Because I know you will do the same," she added. Then she smiled at him as she went back down and started to nibble his ear softly and yet very seductively. "I'm glad I made you proud extra horny," she whispered to him now slowly moving from his ear to his neck, softly kissing and biting it gently. "Let's see if I can help you with your horniness a bit," she giggled as she continued biting and sucking and kissing John's neck, with a bit of teasing as she used her tongue to lick his neck.

Re: My Bloody Valentine

John let out a low, breathless chuckle as she straddled him, his hands instinctively sliding to her hips, thumbs brushing slow, appreciative arcs like he was grounding himself in the reality of her there. "You made me proud," he murmured, voice rough and warm, "and yeah... you definitely nailed the extra-horny part."

He tilted his head just enough to give her better access, a quiet groan escaping him when her teeth grazed his ear and her breath sent a shiver straight down his spine. "World's got good reason to be afraid of you," he added softly, eyes fluttering shut for a second before opening again to look up at her. "But me?" His gaze softened, steady and sincere. "I'm just damn lucky you're on my side."

One of his hands slid up her back, slow and reverent, fingers splaying between her shoulder blades as if memorizing the feel of her again. "And I meant what I said," he continued, quieter now. "About telling each other everything. Inside, outside... all of it. I trust you with my life, Lynda. Always have."

When her mouth moved to his neck, he hissed softly and laughed under his breath, the sound vibrating against her. "Careful," he teased, voice thick with affection and want. "Keep that up and you're gonna prove exactly why I married the most dangerous woman in the room."

Re: A Love Made in Heaven with Hellish Consequences

After hearing what John said about each other being open and honest and keeping no secrets, Lynda stopped and sat back up suddenly. She did not say anything for a long time. Lynda looked as though she was deep in thought and wrestling with something that was hard to talk about. Finally, after what seemed like forever, Lynda began to speak and there was a quiver to her voice that sounded like fear mixed with sadness. "John, I have to tell you something that might upset you," she said and then got off of him and just sat beside him, feeling shamed, though she didn't know why she should because him and Negan were the same person with the same DNA, but still she felt ashamed of what she did. "John, you know me and my brother and sister had a very rough childhood growing up, right?" she asked him. John nodded as he watched Lynda with a worried look on her face and wondering what was going on to make her look like she did something that might take away his love for her. "And you know my daddy was into some weird things that well, caused a whole lot of problems for me, even when we were dating,right?" she asked him still not looking at him, which worried him even more, but he nodded again to her question, listening and waiting for his chance to speak.

Lynda paused for a few minutes as she thought about how she wanted to say the next part. "Well, I told you about how my daddy made me clean up a whole bunch blood once he was done torturing the person and me," she started. "The next morning, and I didn't know that it was you at the time, this guy, Negan, cam in with a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire and began to at first demanded that he let me go, and when my father said no, he chuckled and then said that if he didn't let me go, Lucille would be more than happy to show him the damage she could do," Lynda told him, actually wondering if he had any memories of this or not. Lynda sighed and then went on telling her story. "It was only then that my father grabbed me by the hair and pulled me up that Negan made good on his threat. And soon he began to use Lucille on everything that was not nailed down, including my father, but making sure that she didn't hit me. After my father fell and I was free of him, I looked down at my father one last time, before taking Negan's hand and walking with him out of that place for good," she told him and continued without even stopping. "We went to a hotel room for the night, where I got myself cleaned up. One thing led to another, and I found myself in bed with Negan," she told him, as she was now looking at him. "John, we have a son and daughter that you/Negan has never met," she finally just came out with it.

Re: A Love Made in Heaven with Hellish Consequences

John didn't move.

For one long, stunned second, he just sat there staring at her as if the world had tilted beneath him and he was trying to find his footing again. The air in the room felt suddenly too thin, too heavy, too full of everything she had just said.

A son.

A daughter.

His.

Negan's.

The same man. The same soul. The same blood.

John's chest rose and fell hard, his jaw tightening as he looked away from her for a second, one hand dragging down over his face. He wasn't angry—not the way she feared. He was overwhelmed, blindsided, cracked wide open by the weight of it.

When he looked back at her, his eyes were already glassy.

"Lynda..." His voice came out rough, almost broken. "How long?"

It was the first thing he could get out. Not accusation. Not rage. Just pain and disbelief and the desperate need to understand.

He swallowed hard and shifted to face her fully on the bed, his expression torn apart by too many emotions at once.

"How long have you known?" he asked more softly. "And why—" He stopped, shaking his head, trying again. "Why didn't you tell me?"

There was no bite in it, only hurt.

John's hands flexed against his thighs. He looked down for a second, then let out a shaky breath. "Jesus, Lynda..." A humorless, stunned laugh escaped him as tears threatened in the corners of his eyes. "I've got two more kids out there?"

His voice cracked on the last word.

That was what finally did it.

John stood up abruptly and paced two steps away, then two steps back, like he didn't know what to do with all the feeling tearing through him. His hand pressed over his mouth for a moment, and when he lowered it, there were tears he didn't bother hiding.

"All this time..." he whispered.

Then he looked at her again, really looked at her—at the shame on her face, the fear, the way she looked like she was bracing for him to stop loving her.

And that hurt worse than anything else.

"Hey," he said quickly, crossing back to her. "Hey, no. Don't do that. Don't you sit there looking at me like I'm about to hate you."

He knelt in front of her, his hands finding hers, gripping them tight and warm and steady despite the tremor in his own body.

"I do hate that you carried this alone," he admitted, voice low and thick. "I hate that you were scared to tell me. I hate that you thought this would make me love you less."

A tear slipped down his cheek.

"But them?" he said. "Those children?" He shook his head. "No. Never. They didn't do anything wrong. You didn't do anything wrong."

He squeezed her hands harder.

"You were hurt. You were surviving. And the man who got you out of there—whether you call him Negan or me—he chose you. He protected you." His voice faltered. "And if those kids are mine... then they matter to me. They matter."

John bowed his head for a second, trying to get himself together, then looked back up at her with raw, aching honesty.

"Do they know about me?"

His thumb brushed over her knuckles.

"Have they ever asked?"

There was a beat of silence before he asked the question that seemed to scare him most.

"Did you tell them I was dead?"

His face softened immediately after, regret flickering there because he knew none of this was simple.

"No," he said softly, correcting himself. "No, that ain't fair. You don't have to answer it like I'm interrogating you. I just..." He laughed shakily again. "I'm trying to catch up to the fact that I've got a son and a daughter out in this world and I've never held them, never seen their faces, never heard them call me Dad."

That word wrecked him.

John lowered his forehead briefly against her hands, breathing through it, shoulders tight. When he looked up again, his eyes were red, but there was something fierce there now too—that deep Winchester protectiveness, that stubbornness, that sudden, unshakable love for people he had not even met yet.

"How old are they?" he asked.

His voice was gentler now. Steadier.

"What are their names?"

Then, after only a second's pause, he added the part that mattered most:

"And where are they?"

Because whatever shock he was feeling, whatever grief was clawing through him over lost years and stolen time, one truth had already settled hard in his bones.

If he had children out there, John Winchester was going to find them.

And if they needed him—even a little—nothing on earth or in hell was going to keep him away.

Re: A Love Made in Heaven with Hellish Consequences

Lynda could see that John was beyond stunned as he was trying to wrap his head around what she just told him. She just sat there, letting the tears of shame fall from her eyes as she watched John was trying to wrap his head around what she had just told him. It was only after he asked how long she knew and why she didn't tell him that she forced herself to look John in the eyes, which she could see that he had tears of his own starting to fall. She knew he needed answers, she just didn't know if she was really ready to open that wound again, despite that she had already started. Finally, Lynda took a deep breath and began to give him all the answers he wanted or at least the ones she knew she had at the moment. "I found out that I was pregnant about two weeks after dad's funeral," she told him honestly. "I was all set to tell you, but my grandmother got in the way," she told him honestly. "See, she found out that you were the one that killed dad and when she found out that I was pregnant with your babies, she told me that either I handed them over to her or she would make sure I never saw Mark and Victoria again," she told him as she paused for a few minutes to wipe away some tears, though more just came down. She let out a sigh and continued her story feeling sick as she told it. "So, while grandmom was distracted buying baby things, I was able to get Mark and Victoria out of Lawrence, Kansas and to someplace safe, which just happened to be with a very nice family named Canaday," she told him. "We lived with them until we all finished high school. And after I gave birth, they agreed to adopt the babies and keep them safe," she said as took a few minutes to pause to take a few deep breaths and compose herself, which doing either one at the moment was very hard to do. After finally composing herself the best she could, she then went onto finish her story.

"Anyway, two of the conditions for the Canaday family to adopt the babies were that I was to go to college and make something of myself, and that I was to never tell you about them," she said. "Not because they didn't want you to know, but because they wanted to keep the babies safe," she told him. Once Lynda was finished, she looked down at the ground, still feeling that shame that she had been carrying for several years. And even though she had stopped looking at John, she could feel him getting up from the bed and already knew he was pacing the floor as if he was trying to figure out what to do next. She didn't say anything more as she just sat there looking at the floor for a while. Finally, Lor for a while. Finally, Lynda forced herself to look up at him, though it wasn't the same loving look she had before, it was a look that was about to kill him. But once he got down to her level and took her hand into his, she felt all the shame slowly starting to disappear and the love they had for each other started to fill the room once more. Lynda took her other hand and softly touched John's face, wiping the tears that were starting to fall from his own eyes. She then began to speak to him. "I knew we could survive because we were stronger, even apart," she told John. "I just wanted to give the babies we created out of the love we had for each other a fighting chance," she said. There was a warm silence that then fell over them as they continued to look deep into each other's eyes. Neither one of them said much of anything as Lynda laid her head gently down on John's for a little while. Finally, Lynda lifted her head and after taking a couple of deep breaths, she began to speak again and finished answering his questions. She didn't know how he would react to the answers she had for his questions but she did know he deserved the truth and that's what she was going to give him. 

"I stayed in contact with the kids up until I went to med school and then for some reason, I stopped getting phone calls and letter from them. I had no idea that they moved until I was well into med-school," she told John. "But the last time I talked to them together, they knew that there daddy was alive and that he loved them very much and even though he wasn't with them, they were always on his mind as he went out and did his important work to keep the world safe for them," she told him and then went on before John could say anything more. "Their names are Randi and Candy Canaday. They are around 29ish, give or take a year," she told him, calmer than before. She could feel all the bad and sad emotions they felt slowly disappearing as she filled him in on what she knew about both Randi and Candy. "I don't know much about Randi other than the last time I talked to her she about 5 years old and really into My Little Ponies," she told him. "As for Candy," she said and then paused. She wasn't sure if she really should tell John the rest, but she went ahead and told him anyway. After all, Candy was his son and he deserved to know what happened to him. "As for Candy, like his sister, the last time I talked him was when he was five," she started. "But unlike his sister, I reconnected with him around the time that he was married to a girl named Miranda, who's family didn't care for Candy, but accepted him because Miranda loved him and she was carrying our grandson, Alexander," she told John and then went on. "After Miranda died in childbirth, her parents took Alexander away until they died, in which he went to live with the Canaday family. Candy tried hard to get his son back, but because of the situation that he's in, they wouldn't allow that, so right now, Candy and his new wife are in hiding, because his wife is black," she told him. "I know where Candy is and I know he would be very excited to meet you, if you want me to take you to him," she said. "But I don't know at the moment where Randi is, though there isn't a day that I don't think about her," she said and then went quiet so John could have his say.

Re: A Love Made in Heaven with Hellish Consequences

John just stared at her for a long moment after she finished speaking.

Not angry.

Not cold.

Just... shattered.

His fingers tightened around hers like if he let go now, the whole world would split open underneath him.

He looked down at the floor for a second, jaw flexing hard, trying to steady himself, but it didn't work. The tears kept falling anyway.

"Twenty-nine years," he said quietly.

His voice cracked on the number.

"Twenty-nine years and I didn't even know they existed."

John dragged a hand over his face, breathing rough through his nose before he looked back at her again. There was pain there—God, so much pain—but underneath it was something even stronger.

Love.

Still love.

"For years," he continued hoarsely, "I kept thinking maybe losing you was punishment enough. Maybe that was what I deserved after your father." His eyes dropped briefly. "I convinced myself there wasn't supposed to be anything left for me after that."

He gave a broken little laugh that held no humor.

"And all this time... I had children out there."

The word seemed to hit him hardest.

Children.

Not hunters. Not strangers. Not names on paper.

His children.

John swallowed hard and sat down beside her again instead of pacing. This time he stayed close enough that their shoulders touched.

"You were alone," he murmured, finally understanding it fully. "You were pregnant, scared, threatened... and alone."

His eyes closed for a second.

"And I wasn't there."

Lynda opened her mouth immediately, probably to tell him it wasn't his fault, but John shook his head gently.

"No," he said softly. "Maybe you made the choice, but I know you, Lynda. You wouldn't have done it unless you thought it was the only way to save them."

His thumb brushed across the back of her hand.

"You protected our babies."

The words came out thick with emotion.

"And you carried that by yourself for almost thirty years."

John's breathing hitched again as he tried to picture it—her giving birth without him there, handing over their twins to another family, walking away while believing it was the only thing keeping them alive.

It nearly destroyed him to imagine.

Then came the part about Candy.

About Miranda.

About Alexander.

About hiding.

John leaned forward slowly, elbows on his knees now, hands clasped tightly together as he stared at the floor.

"A son," he whispered.

Another tear slipped free.

"And a grandson."

For a second he looked completely overwhelmed by it all, like the weight of everything had finally landed at once.

Then, after a long silence, he looked back at her.

"What kind of man is he?" John asked quietly. "Candy."

There was something fragile in the question. Careful.

Hopeful.

"Does he laugh loud?" he asked with the faintest shake in his voice. "Does he get stubborn when he's scared? Does he—"

John stopped himself abruptly, emotion choking him up again.

Because he realized he was searching for pieces of himself in a son he'd never met.

His eyes filled harder at that realization.

Finally, he reached up and cupped Lynda's face carefully in both hands.

"You listen to me," he said softly but firmly. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. Nothing."

He rested his forehead gently against hers.

"You saved them the only way you could."

A long silence passed between them before John finally whispered the words that had been sitting in his chest since she told him the truth.

"I want to meet my son."