Jovi Winchester never had a easy life, especially being born into a world of hunting. But her life got flipped upside down when her dad dies once again but this time comes back as a demon and he's nothing but trouble for society.
𝑩𝒖𝒕 𝒊 𝒉𝒐𝒑𝒆...
Jovi Winchester stirred in her hospital bed, by hospital bed she meant one of the beds in the bunkers infirmary. The sterile smell of antiseptic mingling with the dull ache that throbbed through her body. Her eyelids fluttered open, revealing the dimly lit room. The first thing she saw was her father, Dean Winchester, slumped in a chair beside her bed. Dark circles ringed his eyes, and his normally strong, resolute face was etched with lines of fatigue and grief.
"Dad?" Jovi's voice was a hoarse whisper.
Dean's eyes snapped open, relief washing over his features. "Hey, sweetheart," he said, forcing a smile. He leaned forward, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. "How are you feeling?"
"Sore," she admitted, wincing as she shifted slightly. "But... alive."
Dean nodded, his expression softening with a mix of pride and sadness. "That's what matters."
Jovi's mind raced back to the events of the previous day. The fight. The blood. Charlie. Her chest tightened with guilt. "Charlie..." she whispered, her eyes filling with tears. "Dad, I... I couldn't save her."
Dean's face fell, and he took a deep breath, struggling to maintain his composure. "Jovi, what happened to Charlie wasn't your fault." He didn't blame her, if he was going to blame anyone it would be Sam. He hadn't even spoken to his brother since they stitched Jovi up, he was still royally pissed off that his daughter was in a hospital bed because Sam decided to go rogue and drag Jovi with him
"But I could have been quicker, and stronger—" Jovi's voice cracked, and she bit her lip to stifle a sob.
Dean shook his head. "No, Jovi. This life... it's brutal. We all know the risks. Charlie knew them too. She was a fighter, and she wouldn't want you blaming yourself for what happened." Jovi turned her head away, tears spilling down her cheeks. "I just... I miss her so much."
Dean's hand found hers, his grip firm yet gentle. "We all do," he said softly. "But Charlie died fighting for something she believed in. For us. For you. And she'd want us to keep going, to keep fighting."
