The River

Chapter 18 - The End

I stared blankly at the corpse laid across the old wooden table in the dusty living room of an abandoned cabin in Southern Wyoming.

I was sat at one of the table's matching wooden chairs and I felt like a statue. I had been sitting here for three days.

I sat there silently when Dean sobbed. I sat there silently when he screamed and threw old furniture around. I sat there silently while he threw his fist through the old window, shattering the glass around him. I sat there silently while he let the blood drip from his fingertips and I didn't move an inch to try to stop it.

I was lost as I stared at Sam's pale face. Nothing I did would help Dean at this time. I left him alone when he kicked through the door and slammed it behind him and I hadn't called even though he'd been gone for hours.

Bobby was gone. He let Dean grieve for the first day but by the second morning, Bobby suggested we give Sam a hunter's funeral and get back to trying to save the world.

Dean shoved Bobby and screamed, "Let it burn." Bobby knew there was nothing he would be able to say to pull Dean out of this. He also knew that the Devil's Gate had to remain closed.

Bobby offered me to go with him, to continue the fight but I shook my head no. I wasn't stupid, I knew we had to continue the fight but I also knew I couldn't leave Dean alone like he was. He wasn't himself and I didn't know what he was capable of doing.

I felt a single tear fall down my face as I continued to watch over Sam. Dean was still gone and the pain I felt was unbearable. I wanted to put him to rest so badly. Seeing him rot there on a table in the middle of nowhere was tearing me apart but it wasn't my place to make the decision.

It was Dean's and until he decided to come to his senses, this was how it had to be. I could accept that. I had to.

My fingers twitched and my heart ached but I knew what I truly wanted wasn't a cigarette. I couldn't think of the proper words to say but I knew I wanted to soothe and comfort Sam, and I only knew one way how.

I quickly got up and ran to my truck. My heart pounded as I pulled the dusty six-string wooden acoustic from the back. I slowly walked back to the cabin and sat back in the seat.

Effortlessly, my fingers ran over the strings in strict patterns while my thumb plucked at them rhythmically. I cleared my throat as I began to sing,

"She never mentions the word addiction

In certain company.

Yes, she'll tell you she's an orphan

After you meet her family.

She paints her eyes as black as night now.

Pulls those shades down tight.

Yeah, she gives me a smile when the pain comes.

The pain gonna make everything alright.

Says she talks to angels.

They call her out by her name.

Oh yeah, she talks to angels.

Says they call her out by her name.

She keeps a lock of hair in her pocket.

She wears a cross around her neck.

Yes, the hair is from a little boy,

And the cross from someone she has not met, well, not yet.

She don't know no lover,

None that I ever seen.

Yeah, to her that ain't nothing