𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐄𝐘 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 is the daughter of John Winchester, half-sister of Sam and Dean Winchester. Her mother remains unknown, mainly because John can't seem to recall her - all he can remember is the colour of her hair, which also repres...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
[ tw: mentions of child abuse ]
▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃
𝐀𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝟐𝟕𝐭𝐡, 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟐 ―୨୧⋆ ˚ MARLEY'S POV
𝐈 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐓 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐈𝐆 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒. He's packing his belongings into one single bag, ready to take on the world beyond hunting, and I couldn't be prouder. I've been standing at the doorway to his bedroom for last half an hour, just watching and waiting for him to acknowledge me.
Sam is leaving.
It was a day that I knew would come, but a day that I selfishly never wanted to come. While I admire him and his strength and bravery to do something different, it still pains me to watch him go. I'm going to miss him so, so much.
I'm allowed to miss him, I know that, but I hate this feeling of not knowing what is to come now that Sam is leaving home.
I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand, and I stare ahead as Sam moves towards a shelf that holds a single photo of him and I.
In the photo, I can't be any older than six. I'm standing next to my twelve-year-old brother, my arm around his as he crouches down to meet my height. We're smiling at the camera, and from afar, the photo is a little blurry and a little tilted to one side as Bobby isn't the most reliable at taking photos, but it's still the perfect photo of him and I.
He lifts it off the shelf, and moves it to rest inside his bag. He then looks over his shoulder at me, and I choose that moment to avert my gaze to the floor.
"I'm sorry," he says for the third time tonight. He won't stop apologising, and I keep telling him that it doesn't matter, that it's okay.
Sam zips up his bag, and he crosses the room to stand in front of me. I continue to stare at the floor, refusing to look at my brother because I know I'll break down into a mess on the floor. I'm heartbroken that he's leaving, but I want him to escape this hell of a life, even if it physically hurts to watch him leave.
Sam sighs, and he reaches his hand out to rest on my shoulder. He takes a step forward, pulling me forward and into him. "Come on, Mar. Don't hate me, please."
