Sacrifices (Dean Winchester x Reader)

Remembrance.

I woke up in my bed to find Dean was not longer there.  Immediately I felt a heavy feeling.  He was drunk, I was sober, maybe it was something he regretted upon waking up.  It wasn't like anything really serious happened after that.  Dean pretty much passed out in the bed.  I shook my head, I couldn't fret over that.  Not now, not today.  I pulled out the last clean pair of clothes I had.  I'd have to do laundry when I got back.  I meant to do it when I got off of work, but that didn't really go as planned.  My hands shook a little as I brushed my teeth.  It was never easy for me to go see them.  I grabbed my hoodie from the bottom of my bag, and shoved my wallet into my pocket.  As I walked out the door I grabbed the room key off the dresser.  The door shut behind me.  My head turned both ways before I walked to town.  No one was around.  I mostly was concerned about Dean, or Sam,  seeing me.  I headed along the empty street.  It was still early in the morning though.  I made my way to a shop in town.  Every year they placed the same order for me to pick up.  The owner was a good friend of my family's and would open early for me to get my order.  I knocked on the door four times.  A familiar figure appeared behind the blinds.

"Welcome home, _____," she said, "how are things?"

"Good, just home for the day," I said as she gave me a huge hug.

"What have you been up to?"

"Just traveling with some friends.  Taking a break from work."

"How is work going?" she inquired.  Like most people in this town she was unaware of what I really did for work.

"Oh, you know, same old crap everyday."

"Well, it's always nice to see you again. I made something nice this year for you," she walked off and returned with three lovely bouquets, "What do you think?"

"Beautiful as always," I pointed to one with tigerlillies in it, "Mom would have loved these."

"Yeah, I made that one with her in mind.  Still hard to believe it's been nine years.  And that they never found who did this."

My body tensed up as I had to choke back a whimper.  If only everyone knew what happened.  What would they think if they knew I hunted down my family's killer and slaughtered it.  No one would even believe me if I told them.

"I'm so sorry," she quickly apologized, "I shouldn't have-"

"It's fine.  I'm sure that person has paid somehow.  Karma or what have you," I said with a more stoic tone. I took some money out and handed it to her, "thanks again.  If I don't see you, have a good year."

"You too, _____, take care of yourself."

I walked out with a bag full of the flowers she had made me.  The town was beginning to wake up. More people, old friends, started popping out on the street.  Every year I tried to get to the cemetary before seeing these people.  And somehow every year I failed.  Greetings, condolences, and questions about what I was doing with my life barraged me as I tried to move along.  It took a half hour for me to get to the cemetary.  As soon as I step foot through the gates a familiar pain rushed through my chest.  I deepened my breathing trying to stall the tears that were building.  But it didn't help.  Two warm streams trailed down my cheeks as I made my way to three headstones placed next to each other.  I pulled each bouquet out at each headstone.

"Hey, little bugger," I said at my brother's grave, "hope you aren't causing trouble upstairs.  But knowing you, you probably are."

I walked to the next one over.  My father's name etched into the headstone.  The tears growing more impatient to fall.

"Hey goober.  I miss you a lot.  Even your stupid dad jokes.  The stupid pranks you used to play.  Ugh, the way you used to answer the phone when my boyfriend called.  You didn't have to tell him I was peeing every time.  But you did and I hated it then, but I'd give anything to have you do that again."