xxxvii. | let it go

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Disclaimer; I do not own Supernatural. If I did, the boys would get a happy ending (which we all know they probably aren't)

All Hell Breaks Loose Part Two; Part One
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"I was a drizzle, and she was a hurricane." - John Green

EMERY FELT THE PAIN. SEEING SAM'S dead body laying on that bed. It hurt. It seriously did. This was the man that was her best friend. Her brother. And he was dead.

It was all hitting her now. The pain of never being able to see those hazel eyes again. Or see that smile Sam liked to give her, the one that indicated he wasn't alright, but give him time, he'll get there. Never seeing how long he's going to grow out his hair hurt her. She almost started getting his pyre ready. She wanted it to be perfect, even if she seemed void of emotion at that moment. Sam deserved it for the hell he had been put through.

Though, Emery stayed seated where she was, staring at Dean's back. He had been in the doorway of the room they had laid Sam in for quite some time, staring at his brother's corpse. Emery didn't know what to do. How could she? The little brother he was supposed to take care of just died in his arms.

Bobby walked in and Emery turned her gaze to see him carrying a bucket of KFC chicken. He announced it to both of them, Dean declining as Emery stood up. She was hungry, even if she was mourning. The brunette hadn't ate for a day or two. She was definitely going to eat the greasy chicken.

"You should eat something," Bobby told Dean as Emery grabbed a piece. Her teeth dug into it and she almost moaned. How something so disgusting could taste so good, she didn't know.

"I said I'm fine," Dean snapped back at the older man, before pushing away from the door frame. He walked to the table and grabbed the opened beer he had, drinking the rest of the liquor. Emery awkwardly bit into the chicken again, sensing the tension. Of course there was tension, Sam had just died and Dean was mourning. And what does Dean Winchester do when he's mourning? He pushes people away.

"Dean," Bobby said, looking at Emery for help. She felt herself nod, tears threatening to spill over her eyes. The reality was so much worse then the thoughts she had had so many times. "I hate to bring this up, I really do."

Emery got up from her seat and walked over to Dean, grabbing a hold of his hand. She laced their fingers and Dean glanced down at them. Emery was slightly hurt when he unlaced them, before pulling his hand away. He was already pushing her away and she couldn't do anything about it. "Don't you think it's time we bury Sam?"

Dean looked up from the table, looking at Bobby and then meeting Emery's eyes. His green eyes were devoid of emotion and Emery couldn't fathom what type of thoughts were going through his head at the moment. She didn't want to. Because, Dean was going to be in a horrible place right now, but she couldn't do anything about it. He was pushing her away.

Emery closed her eyes when she heard the word, "No."

"We could, maybe-" Bobby started, trying to convince Dean.

"What? Torch his corpse?" Dean said. He had sat down, staring up at Bobby as Emery opened her eyes again, looking around the room. That was, before her eyes zeroed in on Sam's corpse, a sick feeling falling over her.

He was really dead.

"Not yet," Dean glared at Bobby, who leaned in forward. He looked concerned as Emery diverted her eyes from Sammy, that little boy shaking her hand popping into her mind. A distant memory of happier times, she guessed. Nostalgia.

"I want you to come with me," Bobby said, his voice soft for his usual gruffness, but obviously Dean wouldn't have it. Emery stopped listening to them as she made her way past them and out the door. She couldn't be in that house anymore. It was too painful. Seeing Sam in that state... Emery wanted to cry. She couldn't take it.

Tragedy ° DEAN WINCHESTERWhere stories live. Discover now