My Winchester

Joke's on Me

Something of my parents. Something of my parents. How can I get rid of something of my parents when I might not ever see them again?

I'm in the floor of Dean's room, searching through all of my things. Most of this I don't want to get rid of. I love them too much. I sigh and slump against the bed.

"Hey, Golds, you ready?" Dean says before opening the door. His eyes dart around his messy room before landing on me. A frown appears on his features before he comes over to sit across from me.

"What's wrong?" Dean asks.

"I don't know what to use for the ritual," I mumble tiredly. It was getting late, and all I wanted was to curl up in bed.

"Well, what about like a shirt or something. That way we don't have to use something different every time we do the ritual," Dean says as he looks over my things. He holds up an old Hank Williams t-shirt.

I nod, but there's a deep pain in my chest. "That was my dad's," I whisper. Dean nods, his worrisome eyes lingering on me just a bit longer than normal.

"Okay, do you have anything similar of your mom's?"

I think back over the things that the boys got from my house those many weeks ago. Everything of my mothers I wanted to keep; I wanted all of her jewelry, her favorite bible, some pictures, her old jewelry box..

"I have a jewelry box we could probably take apart," I tell him.

He nods and mutters, "Okay, maybe we won't have to tear apart the whole thing either." I get the box from his closet and follow him to the dungeon.

I walk in to find Sam muttering a bunch of Latin over a fire. Dean takes my hand and leads me to the other side of the room.

We don't talk as he hands me a pair of scissors. I'm doing this to get them back. They're not dead. I can do this.

With a sharp sigh I begin snipping away at the old fabric.

I didn't understand much of the ritual, but I didn't have to. We chanted some mumbo jumbo before I had to throw things into the fire. Dean held my free hand when I tossed in a piece of t-shirt and a wooden chip from the box.

We had to wait a long time. Sam kept throwing in herbs and confusing me with his Latin. Dean was being really quiet but supportive.

The sun was coming up when Sam caught the corner of a map on fire. He placed it on the table before turning to give me a sympathetic look.

The flames ate away at the map, making me feel nauseous. When everything but Carbon, Indiana burned away, tears began to roll down my cheeks.

***

Sam and Dean made me wait three days before we left the bunker. We all got into an argument, which they unfortunately won. I wanted to leave as soon as we found out where they were, but Sam insisted we wait to make sure they aren't moving. I waited one night, and when the map showed us the exact same place, I wanted to pack a bag.

It was Dean who yelled at me until I fled to my room. He was getting more irritating every day since Sam got back.

But now I was happy, because we were on our way to Indiana.

"Okay, pit stop everybody. Baby needs gas," Dean says as he pulls over at the rest stop. I sigh and stretch my legs in front of me, ready to get out of the car.

"Hey, Sam you need anything?" I ask from the passenger seat as Dean pulls next to a gas pump. When no answer came, I turned around towards the back seat. There he was, a sound sleeping Sammy.