Simple Things In Life

Hello

"Yeah, thanks Bobby." I smiled some, despite the tears forming in my eyes. "I love you too. I know, I'll visit soon. I'll let you know if I get in touch with him." The beep resonated as Bobby hung up on the other end.

I stared at the paper before me, reading the number over and over again. This would be the thousandth time I tried to get in touch with him in the seven years it's been since I saw him. I went back month after month to Sioux Falls to hopefully catch him, called his multiple cell phones over and over again just to hear his voice. Nothing. Never anything but the repetitive voice mail; "This is Dean Winchester. If this is an emergency, leave a message. If you're calling about 11-2-83, please page me with your coordinates."

I swallowed; I wasn't sure if it was worth it. It must not be tearing him apart anymore, he mustn't think about me anymore if he didn't bother to answer my calls. I just wanted to say sorry, sorry for leaving, sorry for... for not trying harder I guess. But I was trying, that's what mattered right? Still...

I dialed the number and fretted for a moment. I needed to try one more time; If he didn't answer this time, I'd move on. If he did... I... I don't know really. I shook my head and pressed the call button before putting the phone to my ear.

The ring persisted in full, my heart beating harder the longer it went. Please pick up, Dean, please. "This is Dean Winchester. If this is an emergency, leave a message. If you're calling about 11-2-83, please page me with your coordinates."

I shuddered and decided to leave a message, "Hello, it's me. I was wondering if after all these years you'd like to meet... Please call me back, Dean." I hung up, but something in me was left needing more. So yet again I called.

I didn't know Dean was sitting on his motel bed, watching his screen light up with a picture of me, heart breaking with each vibration his phone emitted. He didn't answer, so I left one more voicemail. "I just need to get this off of my chest," I started, clenching my knee as I thought of what to say.

It came to me, and with a shuddering breath, I started, "They say that time's supposed to heal you, but I haven't done much of it. Hell, it hurts more now knowing you're truly avoiding me. Bobby said you missed me though, but I don't know if that's true. Anyways, I'm still in California... reminiscing about who we used to be; When we were younger and free. I think I've forgotten how it felt when the world was ours for the taking..." I was getting choked up, and Dean would be able to tell later when he listened. "I must've called a thousand times to tell you I'm sorry for everything that I've done."

I realized I was babbling and shook my head. "It's just like me to talk about myself, I'm sorry.... But it clearly doesn't tear you apart anymore. But it don't matter, I know everything; You're hunting, you possibly have a child, your dad died, which I'm sorry about. But, this is it, I can't keep holding on to hope when there's nothing left to be achieved; So, goodbye Dean, for good." I hung up then.

I started at my phone, the background still a picture of Dean and I from when we were younger. I changed it and called Bobby, wiping my eyes as I got up and moved to my room, "I'm coming home for the weekend; I need to get away."

"Did he answer?" Was Bobby's response.

"No. And I don't want to talk about it." I muttered, "I'll be there by tomorrow morning." I hung up and finished packing. I was on the road ten minutes later, blaring music that was helping to numb my pain.

Around 9pm, driving through a small town, a rather short man was standing on the side of the road, holding his thumb up. The kindness in my heart warmed some and I pulled over, rolling down the passenger side window, "Get in! Where ya headed?"