Only Angel - Castiel

Chapter Seven

During the drive back to Bobby's, Sam had finally got his wits about him again and you stopped worrying about whether or not he was going to pass out in the backseat. Besides, you and everyone else had bigger worries. The well-being of the man whom you'd realized, during your worrying, reminded you of your uncle- the cool one who sneaked you your first sip of beer at Christmas when you were 12.

Without realizing it, you had quickly and seamlessly been integrated into the Winchester-Singer family. Neither Dean nor Bobby had batted an eye at your presence when they first met you and your two weeks on the road with Sam already had you feeling like family. You couldn't help but feel like they'd go to bat for you, just as it had dawned on you that you have done the same thing for them.

This realization caused a glimmer of hope to reignite in your chest. Finally, after years of being by yourself, you felt like you belonged. And if God was real like Castiel swore, you refused to believe He'd give you a family just to tear it away all over again.

You're interrupted from your thoughts by the car coming to a halt. Looking up, you see the familiar exterior of Bobby's house. Although your entire body is tired and begging for a proper sleep in an actual bed, you refuse to give in, even if just for a little while longer. Because Bobby needs you. Which is why you don't fight when Dean hands you and Sam shotguns and gives orders.

"Sam, you check the scrap yard, I'll check upstairs, and Jonesy will check the auto shop. Got it?"

You nod, stone-cold determination painted clearly on your face, before the three of you split up. You hurriedly make your way to Bobby's shop and carefully walk inside.

"Bobby?" You call out as you look around, shotgun held tightly in your hands.

There's no answer, but shortly after, you hear the sound of a tool hitting the ground. You hold the gun up as you slowly walk around a work table to where the sound came from.

You lower the gun and gasp, shock registering throughout your entire body.

"Dad?" You ask as your eyes fill with tears.

"Hey, princess. Remember me?"

"Of course I do," you say as the tears that were welling up in your eyes spill over the brim. "How could I forget my own father?"

Your dad looks exactly the way you remember- just dead. Before you can look him over too long, he stands up from where he was sitting on the ground and approaches you. Without warning, you're being thrown across the garage, causing you to drop the gun. You make contact with a workbench with a hard thump and the wind is knocked out of your lungs.

"I would have expected you to forget all about me," he hisses as he now towers over you.. "Considering you killed me."

You still remember his death clear as day.

You were twelve years old, playing in the backyard with your dad on a sunny day. The two of you were playing catch when he overthrew the ball and you had to run far to get it. When you turned around, you could barely make out the sight of three people circling your father. They didn't see you, and you remembered the words he would always tell you: "If something happens to me, you hide, and you don't come out until you know it's safe." And so that's what you did.

You tucked yourself into the brush at the edge of your property and watched in horror as one of the people clawed through your dad's chest with ease. Your world shattered as he fell to the ground, his lifeblood staining the earth beneath him.

You blink yourself back to reality and look up at the ghost of your father.

"Dad...I was twelve. What was I supposed to do?" You choke out.