I Don't Remember Most of It

Dean's First Memory

It was Sam's idea really, they are, were, both into their books,  hers fiction, his, not so much.

I don't think I've seen Sam bite his lip so hard, not even when talking about the Cage. It's safe to say it was hard losing her, and come on, let's get real, no one exactly likes goodbyes do they? I prefer mine quick, a hand shake, and embrace at a push, no tears, no chick flick moments. But you know what? There wasn't any of that with her, I just got up and left, again.

I don't remember much about how we met, and it would be a lie to say I did. I definitely do, however, remember jumping her one afternoon when she was leaving college. Alright, she kicked my ass for it but I knew that would happen, it's Cait.

It had been months since we got caught up in that library in Nebraska and it ended with her having a night in the Bunker and me dropping her home in the morning, and we needed her, Sam made me realise that. It was after I had been in Hell that I tracked her phone GPS and drove to her college that I held her at gunpoint. It was a stupid move on my half, my eye stings to remember that hit. But we had to tell her she was a Legacy, and all that particularly sticks with me about that afternoon was a fractured cheek bone and her face, dear god, her face when she realised it was me.

I intended for her to stay for the weekend, Sam approved and Cas when he showed up, eventually. And she did, and naturally she made things brighter, she helped with a couple of cases and continued to not ride shotgun, I have never seen her so done. But it was after she went home, to her grandfather, that I got that phone call.

It was just a normal day for us, early rise, late breakfast, research, pop in on a case, possibly even solve one, maybe even get to see Bobby, and I was just in the library, Sam at one end of the table, me at the other, reading up on angels for Cas' sake when Kitty appeared on my caller ID, I took my feet off the table and answered- she often called, just not at this time.

"Yo, Cait."

"Dean." She sounded strange, not her usual self, like someone had turned the bass down on Baby's cassette player.

"What's up?"

She sighed, long and downhearted.

"Dean, I-"

Cait was cut off abruptly, there was a clatter, a scream that was undeniably her's and a sickening crunch. I ended the call and turned to Sam who had been watching me for the last thirty seconds,

"What's happened to Cait?" He shut the lid of his laptop with a clunk,

"I don't know, something is wrong, Sam, really wrong." The chair shrieked as I pushed back and went for my jacket, Sam automatically followed.

The moment we were out on the open road I maxed the limit as much as I dared, it was a good half a day's drive before we got to her. I parked carelessly on the lawn and we were met with a sight to behold, a frightening one at that. The baby blue and white house had its single glazed windows blown out, glass flecked the porch, the torn curtains fluttered lamely in the breeze. The door that was a welcoming wedding dress white was battered, splintered in some places and swung easily open, I exchanged a nervous glance with Sam. We laid fingers on the triggers of our guns. I hesitantly nudged the door, it creaked, announcing our presence as if we were forbidden to enter.

The interior was gloomy and the only light was from the smashed windows, I tried the switch after I'd chanced a step over the threshold, the electrics were off. The living room was completely trashed like no one had lived there for years and squatters had claimed the place. As I made my way to the middle of the room, Sam cautiously checked the kitchen, the sink was overflowing, china crockery littered the linoleum floor.