Status: In Progress
Alone
one
I look at Dean as he takes my hand, gripping it hard. He pulls me closer to him, and I put my head on his shoulder. We don't do this often. We don't ever do this, actually. But this time it's different. We don't care if we have any 'chick flick' moments. Sam is sitting across from us, looking at the bed.
"Hey, Bobby, just, thanks. For everything," Sam says. Bobby averts his eyes from us to Sam, and manages a small smile.
"You're awesome, Bobby," Dean tells him. My dad nods his head.
"I know," he says. We all smile. We're too sad to laugh. "Regan, you know I love you, right?" I nod my head. The tears are coming down my face faster know. I tried to control myself for my dad, but I couldn't. "Please don't cry over me, sweetheart, come here." I let go of Dean's hand and go over to my dad. He puts his hands out and he pulls me into a hug. "I love you, Regan. Don't cry, shh," he says. I can't stop crying. He lets go of me and I wipe my eyes, so I can see him clearly.
"I love you so much, Dad. I love you so much," I say, through weeps. He nods his head, smiling at me.
"Idjits" he says. We all smile, but we know what's going to happen. I shake my head murmuring 'no. no.' Dean pulls me into a hug, but I keep my eye on my dad. He can't be dying. He's been the strongest man I've ever known. He can't be dying. He's never gotten hurt, he's always been alright, he's always been there for me, he's never left me alone, he can't be dying. He closes his eyes.
"No, dad, please don't," I cry out, and try to pull away from Dean but he keeps his hold on me. "Let go of me, Dean, please," I say, bawling. I can't control myself. Suddenly a loud long beep sounds. "No! No! Dad! No!" I yell, and pull out of Dean's grip and grab my dad. "No..." I say, one last time. He's dead. He can't be.
I feel someone grab my hand and pull me out. It's Sam. I shake my head. I look back into the room and nurses walk in. They knew it was coming. One gives me a sympathetic look. I wonder how many times she's had to give that one to people. She covers his face with the white sheet covering the rest of his body. I just can't believe it. It can't be happening.
"Come here, Regan," it's Sam's voice. I'm still looking at the room, even though they closed the doors. I feel a hand cup my face and pull it towards them. It's Sam. "Look at me," he says. I don't ever cry in front of them, but this time I couldn't control it. It's my dad. He pulls me into a hug, and I sob into his chest. I can't control my emotions like I usually can. Sam starts stroking my hair. He doesn't let go. I don't either. We just stand there in each other's arms. I finally pull away and he kisses my forehead. I wipe the tears from my eyes.
~~~~
For weeks all we did was stare at the wall, the TV, the newspaper. I didn't say anything for weeks. Sam and Dean soon learned to just ask yes or no questions, because I wouldn't answer. I barely ate anything. For the first few days I didn't eat anything, actually. Soon Sam and Dean got it through my head I need to eat sometime. I knew I had to continue my life, I had to some how or sometime get over the fact that my father is dead. But at the time I couldn't. I couldn't believe that he was gone. He was always supposed to be there. He wasn't supposed to die. He was Bobby freaking Singer. He wasn't ever supposed to leave. At least, I didn't think so. I was obviously wrong, horribly, horribly wrong.
~~~~
"I got your back," Dean says. I nod my head.
"Same," I tell him. "I can't see shit."
"Shh," he says. We have our guns pointed everywhere, switching our targets, even though we can't see anything in these woods. It's completely dark, but for some odd reason we both stay calm. I hear a crack to my left and I point my gun in that direction, Dean following. A tall, dark figure slowly comes out of the darkness. "Sam?"
"What the hell are you guys doing out here?" he asks, walking closer to us. I groan and put my gun in the back of my jeans.
"So you're the noise we've been hearing for the past 20 minutes?" I ask him. He shrugs. I roll my eyes and look around. "Our flashlights died, we couldn't see anything."
"Wow, mine did too," he says, holding it up.
"So, whatever we're dealing with isn't here?" Dean asks. I shrug and look around. Dean groans and puts his gun in the back of his jeans also.
"Well at least I know the way out, come on," Sam says, and we follow.
It's been a year since my dad died. I've somewhat gotten used to it. I mean, about as much as you can get used to having your dad dying. Sam and Dean seem okay. He was sort of their dad too. He'd been there for them for everything. When their dad, John, couldn't take care of them, he'd be there. He's always there.
We are hunting what we think is a vampire. For those of you who don't know, they aren't like Edward from Twilight. They are far from him, or it. They don't sparkle, or fall in love with random emotionless girls. They might kill random emotionless girls, but they don't fall in the love with them. The only thing they have the same is they suck blood. A lot of it. All of the people who have died have no blood, not one little drop. You can kill them by decapitating them, which is the most fun, and easiest.
We get back to the Impala and I take my seat in the back. It's always been my seat, I never get to sit in the front unless Sam isn't riding, which is usually never. "You still think it's a vampire, we're hunting?" Sam asks.
"What else could it be?" Dean replies. Sam shrugs and gets into the car right after Dean. Dean starts the black beauty and drives off the side of the road and heads back to our hotel.
"Do you think there's just one? Or do you think they have a nest somewhere?" I ask them. I decide to take out my gun and unload it, and load it again, considering I have nothing else to do.
"I think from what's been going on there's just one, although you never know until you actually find one, which we apparently we aren't even close to getting either," Sam says, taking a glance back to look at me. I nod my head and look back down at my gun. I lean forward and turn up the radio. It's Peace of Mind by Boston. I shrug and sit back and wait till we get back to the motel. The whole ride is silent.
"Hey, Bobby, just, thanks. For everything," Sam says. Bobby averts his eyes from us to Sam, and manages a small smile.
"You're awesome, Bobby," Dean tells him. My dad nods his head.
"I know," he says. We all smile. We're too sad to laugh. "Regan, you know I love you, right?" I nod my head. The tears are coming down my face faster know. I tried to control myself for my dad, but I couldn't. "Please don't cry over me, sweetheart, come here." I let go of Dean's hand and go over to my dad. He puts his hands out and he pulls me into a hug. "I love you, Regan. Don't cry, shh," he says. I can't stop crying. He lets go of me and I wipe my eyes, so I can see him clearly.
"I love you so much, Dad. I love you so much," I say, through weeps. He nods his head, smiling at me.
"Idjits" he says. We all smile, but we know what's going to happen. I shake my head murmuring 'no. no.' Dean pulls me into a hug, but I keep my eye on my dad. He can't be dying. He's been the strongest man I've ever known. He can't be dying. He's never gotten hurt, he's always been alright, he's always been there for me, he's never left me alone, he can't be dying. He closes his eyes.
"No, dad, please don't," I cry out, and try to pull away from Dean but he keeps his hold on me. "Let go of me, Dean, please," I say, bawling. I can't control myself. Suddenly a loud long beep sounds. "No! No! Dad! No!" I yell, and pull out of Dean's grip and grab my dad. "No..." I say, one last time. He's dead. He can't be.
I feel someone grab my hand and pull me out. It's Sam. I shake my head. I look back into the room and nurses walk in. They knew it was coming. One gives me a sympathetic look. I wonder how many times she's had to give that one to people. She covers his face with the white sheet covering the rest of his body. I just can't believe it. It can't be happening.
"Come here, Regan," it's Sam's voice. I'm still looking at the room, even though they closed the doors. I feel a hand cup my face and pull it towards them. It's Sam. "Look at me," he says. I don't ever cry in front of them, but this time I couldn't control it. It's my dad. He pulls me into a hug, and I sob into his chest. I can't control my emotions like I usually can. Sam starts stroking my hair. He doesn't let go. I don't either. We just stand there in each other's arms. I finally pull away and he kisses my forehead. I wipe the tears from my eyes.
~~~~
For weeks all we did was stare at the wall, the TV, the newspaper. I didn't say anything for weeks. Sam and Dean soon learned to just ask yes or no questions, because I wouldn't answer. I barely ate anything. For the first few days I didn't eat anything, actually. Soon Sam and Dean got it through my head I need to eat sometime. I knew I had to continue my life, I had to some how or sometime get over the fact that my father is dead. But at the time I couldn't. I couldn't believe that he was gone. He was always supposed to be there. He wasn't supposed to die. He was Bobby freaking Singer. He wasn't ever supposed to leave. At least, I didn't think so. I was obviously wrong, horribly, horribly wrong.
~~~~
"I got your back," Dean says. I nod my head.
"Same," I tell him. "I can't see shit."
"Shh," he says. We have our guns pointed everywhere, switching our targets, even though we can't see anything in these woods. It's completely dark, but for some odd reason we both stay calm. I hear a crack to my left and I point my gun in that direction, Dean following. A tall, dark figure slowly comes out of the darkness. "Sam?"
"What the hell are you guys doing out here?" he asks, walking closer to us. I groan and put my gun in the back of my jeans.
"So you're the noise we've been hearing for the past 20 minutes?" I ask him. He shrugs. I roll my eyes and look around. "Our flashlights died, we couldn't see anything."
"Wow, mine did too," he says, holding it up.
"So, whatever we're dealing with isn't here?" Dean asks. I shrug and look around. Dean groans and puts his gun in the back of his jeans also.
"Well at least I know the way out, come on," Sam says, and we follow.
It's been a year since my dad died. I've somewhat gotten used to it. I mean, about as much as you can get used to having your dad dying. Sam and Dean seem okay. He was sort of their dad too. He'd been there for them for everything. When their dad, John, couldn't take care of them, he'd be there. He's always there.
We are hunting what we think is a vampire. For those of you who don't know, they aren't like Edward from Twilight. They are far from him, or it. They don't sparkle, or fall in love with random emotionless girls. They might kill random emotionless girls, but they don't fall in the love with them. The only thing they have the same is they suck blood. A lot of it. All of the people who have died have no blood, not one little drop. You can kill them by decapitating them, which is the most fun, and easiest.
We get back to the Impala and I take my seat in the back. It's always been my seat, I never get to sit in the front unless Sam isn't riding, which is usually never. "You still think it's a vampire, we're hunting?" Sam asks.
"What else could it be?" Dean replies. Sam shrugs and gets into the car right after Dean. Dean starts the black beauty and drives off the side of the road and heads back to our hotel.
"Do you think there's just one? Or do you think they have a nest somewhere?" I ask them. I decide to take out my gun and unload it, and load it again, considering I have nothing else to do.
"I think from what's been going on there's just one, although you never know until you actually find one, which we apparently we aren't even close to getting either," Sam says, taking a glance back to look at me. I nod my head and look back down at my gun. I lean forward and turn up the radio. It's Peace of Mind by Boston. I shrug and sit back and wait till we get back to the motel. The whole ride is silent.