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enjoy.

Warning: there is some language throughout in this.



Violet


* knock knock*

I get up wondering who could be at the door. Dad wasn't due back from business 'til around Tuesday.

Maybe he was home early.

I swing the door open with a grin to find John, my dads best friend, looking tiredly down on my face. 

"Uncle Johnny.?" My smile soon fades to a straight line when I realize his lips stay down, unlike his usual kind, surprisingly chirpy, attitude for a buff old man.

"Violet, I don't know what to say honey. It's your dad." There was a long pause as he started to walk in and sit down, resting his head in his hands.

"I'm so sorry," his head lifted to meet my eyes.

I sat next to him, watching his hands lift up over and over like a note on a broken record, annoying me as I wait for something to release me from this overwhelming pain.

I reach for the one thing that will keep me away from this nightmare. Cause that's what this is.

A nightmare.

"You know your hands and body show me you're dancing, but your face says that that brain in there is telling your body to either hug me or dance." I let out a small laugh while my brain searches for anything it can grasp itself on to keep me sane. 

Think Violet, think. Comedy. Think of his hands. Think of the walls. Or the woman who talks to herself in the dingy lobby of the motel. Anything. Anything.

Yet, nothing comes to mind except the flashing images of dad and I when I was younger. And John's empty, sad face talking with no words coming out. I'm suffocating as the images wash over- dad's face being the only thing I see.

Dad wouldn't leave me.
Never.
He's still alive.
Any second this'll be one of his jokes that he makes, he will jump out of a door or start laughing uncontrollably. It'll be a sick, but somehow amusing joke. Just like when he pretended to be robber to show me why opening the door for strangers isn't okay. 

"You have his humor. Always have." His expression lightens for a brief second until it drops soon after. My breath falters, my eyes become glassy and I sit there, dying. 

"His boss called. He said there was a new construction job. I don't get it. He said it was simple. This isn't happening, uncle J, this isn't real." John's fingers came up to wipe the free falling tears. 

"He just," His breath evened during a pause; during which I tucked my knees to my chest. "He died in a-a car crash." 

Liar.

"Do not lie to me," I stopped myself from yelling. "I will not be lied to."

"You wouldn't believe me if I had told you." He says, holding my soft hands in his rough ones.

"Try me."

|

"H-He loved you very much. And Vi, your dad needed you to come with me."

I guess that line lead to the end of the rest of my life. And although it ended it, I don't regret anything that happened afterwards. Not a single fight or kiss or life lost. I guess it's the price of growing up with hunters.



||




10 years later ||

I wake up alone. Dean nowhere to be found.

I remember it all,

Laying there with my head on his chest, his arm resting on my waist, our legs tangled together.
I drifted asleep as Dean hummed a random Metallica song.
It was the occasional thing he did when piecing together cases in his head.
We had just fought about something, which is kind of blurry as shown by the many scattered, empty bottles lying around the room.
However, no matter how many of those I drink, I never forget the nights like these.
The ones where the real Dean shows himself to me and me only.

Where was he?

I turn my body so my legs slide out of the bed, the rest of my body sliding with it until I am on the rough carpet of the motel groaning. My arms use all the strength they have left to hoist my body off the ground and onto my feet. The pounding in my head and blurry vision knocking my butt to the bed.

It doesn't take me long to rise once again and try to make my way to the bathroom.

Try.

"Shit." I mumble, rubbing the bruise the kind wall just gave my head.

I walk the correct way into the bathroom about as quickly as my legs will take me. Turning the knob to the hottest setting, I sit on the toilet and wait for the steam to cover the walls and mirrors, all the while letting last nights alcohol release itself from my body.

It doesn't take 10 minutes until the motel door slams itself closed. The loud noise causing my ears to ring even from in the shower.

"Why.? Why can't a girl get 30 minutes to sit in hot water and do nothing.?" I feel my hand grasp the knob and turn it off, huffing in frustration.

The bathroom door opens and I can smell the cheap coffee and cologne radiating from where he stands. It smells like home.

"Where the hell have you been?"

"Oh, what do you think, looking for dad. You know he's been gone for longer than normal." Dean takes an extra look as my I fix the towel around my body.

"You know, I think we should go get some help finding him." I explain, holding tighter onto the short towel. "Focus asshole, eyes are up here."

He shakes his head out of his daze and does that signature smirk, you know, the one that makes my eyes roll about as far back as they can go.

"You know him, he'd kill us if we put the feds on his ass." I pull up the underwear and jeans he must've set on the counter when he came in, all the while I look at him with a raised eyebrow to warn him how much he's testing me with that attitude of his.

Don't you get angry at me you god looking human. Can you call him anything mean Violet.?

"I'm not talking about the feds Dean," a short pause commences.

I stare at him and drop the towel, my top half bare to his eyes. I grab the bra dangling from a hook, that had white paint chips coming off onto the ground, hanging from the wall and place it on, pulling my arms through the straps. I turn my body around so my back faces him and he slowly makes the short distance from the sink to the shower. Dean's rough fingers grasp both ends of the fabric and hooks them together, turning my body around with one hand while his other grabs a random shirt I've seen tucked into his duffel. My head leans forward so he can place the top over it and I smile when he succeeds, my arms pulling their way through as well until it hangs loosely over my torso. His smile widens but quickly falls as I finish my delayed sentence.

"I meant that we should go get Sam."






Hope you liked my first fanfiction, sorry it's quite short.

Carry on my supernaturalers.

J.

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