Supernatural Imagines

Found Family

Sam and Dean at this point are like... in their 40s

As I meander around the hallways to the kitchen, my heart aches as I see the pictures on the walls. I look down at my feet trying to shield my vision from them. I've already cried my eyes out for two weeks. Now it's just a matter of picking myself up. And believe me I've been trying.

I huff as I open the door to the fridge. I pick one of those Kraft cheese slices from the drawer and even as I'm unwrapping it, I can barely even bring myself to take a bite. But I do. I take a bite, wincing and furrowing my brows as I do one of those chews where your tongue feels too disgusted by the sensation to even touch it. I feel like I've lost 100 pounds. Why did you leave? Why does it happen now? I'm about to turn 20 and now you're gone? That's just... unfair. No dad to begin with, and now no mom? It seems like some sick joke.

I throw out the rest of the slice and wander back into my room, sitting in the wooden captains chair in front of my desk. I let a small smile tug at the corners of my lips as I pull the pictures that lain out in a stack on a pile of books. She was beautiful. She had strawberry blonde hair that ran past her waist, always refusing to cut it with the 70's curtain bangs. I had her nose, tracing over the features in the next picture. I flip over to the next, and smile even wider. Her smile. His smile.

Just a few months ago my mom gave me pictures of them together. There was this guy she met in her early twenties. He was handsome. She said I seemed to have his candy apple green eyes and lips. She fell in love with him for a summer. She said she'd sworn she could've spent her life with him if there weren't as many forces against them as there were. Their arms were wrapped around each other, her head nestled in the crook of his neck, and he was smiling as he looked down at her. She was in awe as she looked up at him. You could just see it written all in her eyes. "Dean Winchester," she would sing out as she smiles, leaning into her hands while she looked to the heavens. "He was one of the great ones." One of her friends took this picture. I flip over to the other and it's just of him. A dopey deer in headlights as the glare from the lens catches in his eyes. Lips slightly agape and now I can see why my mom thinks that I look just like him. I never really looked at the pictures until now. Just kind of glanced through them.

My mom was a great person. She raised me on her own her in Brandon South Dakota. She pushed me to do anything and everything under the sun when I even got the slightest idea of doing something. If it was good of course. She would've wanted to me to be at least somewhat content with her death. Not a mess. She said she always found it so weird how much I acted like him when I never even met the guy. She said she realized I was a lot like him when she got one look at my car when I finished it with my friends. My friends taught me everything about cars when I was 16. I had a few that were Sr.'s and knew their way around a classic car very well. But she was the light in everyone's life. She lit up a room and it all felt so empty without her. She was the glue that kept everyone together. She was the kind where she would offer you anything you needed. And she wouldn't ask for anything in return. She knew how to make anyone feel... something. How to stitch anyone back together with a few simple words and sitting next to them. She was an angel.

As much as I wanna stay crying, it's come to the point where I say, "that's fucking it". I'm done crying. I've been crying for weeks, I've been living in my own filth. I'm done being upset. Maybe getting a little angry and determined would help. My jaw clenches, and I place the pictures down. I ended up showering and getting my things together, throwing on a pain of jeans with my docs and a Mötley Crüe T-shirt my friend got me for Christmas. It hit bleach a few times, you can barely see the band members anymore. All the edges are frayed where I've cut. I made it a crop top and cut a v into the neck line. I throw on a button down that was my ex's and grab the keys to my car, the pictures, and my phone.