Bobby Singer's Daughter - A Supernatural Fan Fiction

Chapter One Hundred and Sixty-Eight - My Final Bow?

The rumble of the Impala wakes me and I sit upright wondering what the hell happened back there; I'm scanning my phone wondering what the normal people are making it out to be.

"This makes no sense," I murmur to Dean who's driving, "I mean, how many angels fell – hundreds? Thousands? And nobody sees anything. This is .... look at this," I hold the screen out to Dean, "they're calling it a meteor shower, seriously? What's going on babe?" I finally get a good look at his face, "you okay?"

"Me?" he asks and I nod, "I'm fine – it's just..."

"We got a major crap fest on our hands, tell me about it," I groan, "thousands of superpowered dicks touching down, and we got no idea where to start," out of the corner of my eye I see the backseat empty and wonder about Sam, but Dean distracts me by saying, "Angels aren't our problem right now, okay? Or demons, or Metatron, or whatever the hell happened to Cass."

"Why because we hugged it out like a married couple should?" I snort, "Dean you said so yourself, this thing ain't over until we finish it."

"I know."

There's an awkward silence for moment.

"So, what's the problem?"

"You," he looks at me from the corner of his eye, "look, there's no easy way to say this, okay? But something happened back there in the church, and I don't know what. I don't know why, but you're dying Melanie."

I look away from him wondering trying to recall the past eight or so hours then his voice calls me back.

"You're not dead...not yet, okay? We've jimmied ourselves out of worse. We're gonna fight this, I got the plan. You just got to hang on, you hear me?"

"Absolutely," I murmur but I can tell he doesn't believe me, "so you think I'm lying?"

"Pretty much, yeah," I admit.

"You understand that we're not actually here, in this car, but in your head. You're in a coma and are dying."

"How do you know that?" I ask and he sighs, "because I'm you, and you're you. All of this is you, we're in your head!"

I run my hands over my face in frustration wondering where the hell I went wrong, I stopped the trial to keep from dying; how's come my warrior powers hadn't stepped in to help at all?

"Dean, I- I stopped to keep from dying," I murmur my thoughts aloud, "what about my warrior powers?" He sighs heavily, "gone, you drained the battery fueling the trials with it, that's how you were able to survive for so long. The next time we see Naomi and Metatron or whoever is to blame for this, we will get some justice but for right now, we got to fight this, sweetheart."

"So, what's the plan?"

"I'm working on it," he mutters.

We drive in the dark fogginess around us for a long while.

"Well, you better figure it out," I say, "I'm slowly dying here, apparently."

"I am working on it as fast as I can," he snaps and I groan, "the thing is, I'm dying and I believe you, I do. But if you're you but you're really me but the part of me that wants to fight to live," Dean cuts in, "yes, I have no idea what you just said but continue."

"But if you don't have any idea how I am supposed to fight, am I supposed to be fighting al all?" The Dean driving turns to look at me from the road then back again, "are you serious?"