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A/N: Okay I'd like to say a couple of things first:

I. I'm not native so don't put in on me when I screw up the grammar

II. I'm not experienced besides writing for myself, so please don't be disappointed with this

III. This fanfic will be written in THIRD POV, except for the Preview and presumably the epilogue  


"I'd like to thank Dean Winchester who may be a fictional character, but gives me hope nonetheless on the dark days, and keeps me trying and fighting and I love him for that, and since I have nobody else to dedicate this book too, it's gonna be my idol"



Cas's POV:

An answer. That was all I asked for. I just wanted to know why; why all of it. But my mother would only look at me, a sad, comforting expression in her face that didn't help me much. It didn't answer my question.

"We have to move", She said, kneeling before looking me into my eyes. "It's about time. Gabriel, go help your dad getting the last of the bags in the car." I watched as my brother nodded obedient and went out to approach our father, who seemed slightly overwhelmed by all the relocation preparations. 

Gabe was only a few years older than me and probably didn't know what that all was about either. I turned to my mother, who now had put that sad, but hopeful smile on her face from which I knew she'd only use if the situation was serious. Serious and usually not good news.

"What do you mean by that?" I wanted to know, not moving when she helplessly patted my shoulder. I could see her lips tremble and didn't understand what was going on. 

"It's for the better, sweetheart, I promise." She quietly started sobbing. 

I didn't know what was going on, but the one thing I did know that I didn't want my mom to look so sad. No mom should look sad. Especially not mine. 

"Don't cry, mommy", I begged and felt my eyes water up as well. 

The house looked empty. My dad forced me to put all my toys in my bag, just like when we went to vacation, but this time I had to put all of it away. All the wardrobes were gone, along with by bed, and Gabe's. The kitchen was ripped out from the wall, leaving a dirty empty space. Nothing looked the same. It wasn't our home anymore, with nothing in it. I was confused, and tired.

"Please, mommy, don't cry. Don't cry." I wanted her to stop crying, I wanted to help her. So, I hugged her leg, clung tightly. Didn't want to let go. Didn't want to move.

That caused her to shake in her kneeling position, and she laughed, probably to cheer me up. It wasn't a cheerful laugh, though. It was tearful. It broke my heart.

"I don't cry, honey. Why would I cry? There's no need for tears. We're moving, and that's a good thing."

"Why are we moving?" The ultimate question. The one thing I needed to know more than anything. If only I would've known how important this question was back then. "Why, mommy?"

She didn't answer to that, she just pulled me close, softly stroking my hear. I leaned on her shoulder when she stood and carried me through the floor towards the door.

"Why is it a good thing, mommy?" I whispered, changing my words in hope at least this question would get answered. I buried my face in her shoulder, not looking up. I didn't want to see the empty house I could no longer call my home. I felt an emptiness creep into me that I didn't know how to shake.

"Because" my mother answered and I knew we were outside now; I heard the sound of a door closing, and somehow knew, that I'd never get to hear that door closing again. "Because sometimes a town and the people in it leave you with bad memories. And in order for you to forget them, you have to leave that town. Which is why I think it's time for us to move. And it's not just good – it'll be better."

Why, she never answered me.

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