The Winchester Gospels

Four months.

Four long months Parker Forest had Reaped for Death. She didn’t skip out on a single victim, no matter how young or how many people were devastated over the passing. Parker didn’t have a choice and they were going to Heaven. Dean Winchester was stuck in Hell. To Parker, he had the first priority in her moral decisions.

A Reaper named Tessa had shown her the ropes. Tessa knew Dean; she had tried to Reap him once. Parker learned that his father had given his life for Dean. John Winchester was in Hell, too. And Dean had already died numerous times before Parker Prophesized about him. The stories she was told forced Parker to wonder whether she was making a difference at all.

Would Dean Winchester end back up in hell anyways, after all she had sacrificed? Parker had to believe he wouldn’t, that everything she was doing would make a difference in the world. Death was taking its toll on her and she wasn’t sure how much more Reaping she could take.

“Last one for today.” Tessa said. Her dark eyes watched Parker as she pondered on the rail of the bridge. Parker watched the waves crash against the cement wall, staring at where her reflection would be if she had one. Death’s ring made her invisible, and dead.

“Parker?” Tessa questioned softly, placing a hand on her shoulder. Parker glanced back at the elder Reaper, standing up straight.

“Let’s go.” She answered quietly. Tessa nodded sympathetically. When Parker opened her eyes, the ocean was no longer by her side. It was a small town. A familiar town.

It was Parker’s hometown.

The last time Parker had been there was four months ago. Now it was summer and the usual sweltering heat was back. Parker had always hated the humidity. If she wasn’t under Death’s ring, she would probably be covered in a sheen of sweat.

Parker turned to Tessa in a panic. Someone she knew was about to die and Parker was the one to take their life. She wanted to run, she wanted to quit and say, “Fuck Dean Winchester.”

But, she couldn’t. These past months would be in vain.

Parker breathed in deeply as she followed behind a calm Tessa. She kept her head down, not wanting to know where they were going. Would it be Alyssa? Or Michael, her date from the night she left town. He wasn’t a catch or anything, but he was still a human being. Up until now, Parker had never had any sort of connection with her victims. Today she would. Today was Death’s real test.

“Parker,” Tessa said softly, “We’re here.”

When Parker looked up, she stumbled backwards. Staring down at her was Parker’s house. The rose trellis she had snuck up and down the night she left was dead and broken. Her mom’s Honda Civic was still parked in the driveway, caked in dust. The lawn was overgrown and yellow and it looked like her mother hadn’t touched the garden in weeks. The house was in desperate need of caring and Parker’s mother obviously wasn’t giving it.

Parker couldn’t breath. She gripped the rusty hand railing for support. Why were they here?

Of course, Parker knew why they were here. But, she refused to accept it. She wasn’t going to do it. Not her mother. Not like this.

Tessa walked through the red door. Parker staggered after her with labored breathing.

The house was quiet. There was a ripe stench in the air. It smelt like a terrible mixture of rotting garbage, mold, and alcohol. The house was in complete disarray. It was not the same house Parker left months ago. It was a mess. Broken bottles, empty cans, and garbage littered the floor. The living room was unkempt and the kitchen was horrendous, covered in dirty dishes and paper plates.

Parker didn’t understand what had happened. She used to get scolded for leaving dirty towels on the floor. How could her mother allow this pigsty to erupt? And when did she start drinking like an old truck driver?

Tessa led the way up the creaky staircase. Parker followed in a daze. She kept following as Tessa winded her way through the upstairs hall and halted in front of Parker’s mother’s door. The elder Reaper looked at the redhead sympathetically. She knew this would be hard for Parker. She remembered her first time Reaping a loved one quite well. It was never a pretty experience but it had to be done.

Tessa walked through the door and Parker hesitated. She didn’t want to know what was behind it. She didn’t want to see what kind of state her mother was in because she knew it was all her fault. All that had happened to the lawn, the house, her mother, was Parker’s fault.

With two quick strides, Parker entered her mother’s room and gasped. Lying in the queen-sized bed was some sort of body snatcher. Her face was swollen and red. Her lips were pale and chapped. She smelt of horrid body odor, like she hadn’t bathed in a quite a long time. The undeniable stench of hard liquor mixed in the air. Bottles covered the floor. Parker had never seen so many empty bottles. She could hardly see the dirty carpet that surrounded the room.

Who was this sad, old woman and what had she done to Parker’s mother?

That was what Parker demanded to know. The old, mangy robe covering her slender body lay open, revealing a stained white t-shirt and black pajama pants. Parker wanted to scream, to yell at her mother for allowing it to come to this. How could she do this to herself? To Parker? Didn’t she know what Parker would have to do?

Of course not, Parker realized, You left. She had no idea where you went or what you’d been up to these past four months!

“This is my fault.” Parker whispered shakily.

“Just give her some peace.” Was all Tessa could say to console the teen.

Slowly, Parker crept up to the side of the dilapidated bed. The sight of her mother was sickening. She was the shell of who she used to be and it killed Parker to know she was the reason for it.

“Oh, mom,” Parker sniffed, tears streaming down her face quickly. Her mother’s breathing was slowing down. Her yellow eyes were fluttering shut. There was no more fight left in this woman. Parker knew it was time.

As Parker’s hand shakily reached out to touch her mother’s forehead, her mother’s own fist released a piece of paper. The crumpled, wrinkly mess floated to the ground like a feather. Parker bent down and picked it up—unfolding it for what looked like the thousandth time—and read it:

I’m sorry. I have to save Dean. I’ll be home as soon as it’s over. Love, Parker.

It was the note Parker had written to explain her absence. At the time, Parker had thought it would be a few day thing—one week tops. Oh, how wrong she’d been.

Staring down at her mother’s dying form, she reread the line ‘I have to save Dean’. If she did this, Parker would save Dean. If she took her mother’s life, Dean would come back and it would all be worth it.

Life is hard, Parker told herself, this isn’t killing my mother, this is saving her, this is giving her a new start in Heaven. No more suffering, no more sadness. We can be together and Dean will be alive. It’s a win-win.

Parker gulped and brushed a stray graying hair out of her mother’s face. Her mother’s eyes fluttered shut and her chest didn’t rise again.

“P-Parker?” A voice croaked from behind the Prophet. Parker snapped around to see the mother she had left four months ago. Her eyes were no longer yellow and dead, they were green again and full of life. Her skin was no longer red and damaged, it was pale and healthy. Her lips were plump and smiling weakly. “Parker.”

The next thing Parker knew, she was being strangled in a tight hug as her mother wept. Wept in sadness, in joy, in being reunited with her only child.

“You left.” Was the first thing she managed to get out through her sobs as she straightened herself out.

“I know,” Parker muttered, unable to look at her mother in the eye.

A long, thin finger pushed Parker’s chin up. “I should have listened to you. I should have believed you.”

“If it hadn’t happened to me, I wouldn’t have believed it.” Parker said honestly.

“Did you save him?” Her mother asked hopefully. “Dean?”

Parker buried her face in her mother’s chest, “Almost.” She breathed in the familiar Chanel perfume, “There’s one more thing I have to do.”

“What is it?” He mother questioned, rubbing her daughter’s back comfortably.

“Send you to Heaven.”

Parker wasn’t sure if she expected a fight or a philosophical argument from her mother because she got neither. Her mother nodded like it was normal for her daughter—who had been missing for four months to go after a man she witnessed die in a vision—to Reap her and send her to Heaven with another Reaper named Tessa. She digested it easily, always being a pretty religious woman. She was happy to go to Heaven if it helped her daughter save this Dean. Hell, she was happy Heaven was allowing her in after all the gluttony she had committed with her recent drinking habit.

With one last hug, Parker’s mother pressed her lips against her forehead.

“I’ll see you soon.” Parker promised.

Her mother glanced back at her dead body with a grimace, delighted to leave this place. Tessa grabbed her hand and led the way out of the room. Before she disappeared behind the door, Tessa turned to Parker and said, “Call your Angel friend. Death’s giving you passage.”

And then Tessa vanished into thin air.