Memoirs of the Supernatural - Phase 4 [COMPLETED]

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Hello dear.

I'm so sorry that it took me so long to pick up where we left off.

I told you about what happened in England and before I go on I would like to stress that those details are important to understand what I'm about to explain in the upcoming few chapters. Alright, now that I got this out of my system let's move on. I'm not gonna dive into too many elements of the story because it still pains me even if it's in the past. However, the aftermath is still present to this day and life won't let me forget.

Bobby and I found a way to pinpoint the demon's location who held Dean's contract. (Remember? He sold his soul and now he's on death row. Good. Well, not good per se, but... Oh, never mind.) Sadly, we couldn't save him from Hell's fiery pit.

The 3 boys left together to get to the aforementioned demon leaving me behind. It was the right call honestly; I would have been distractive and as far as I can tell my presence would have ruined the plan of sneaking past the enemy line in a heartbeat. I was all alone the whole time and I had a very bad feeling which stressed me out so much that I broke my teapot, several mugs, and a plate. Butterfingers too much, eh? Couldn't eat, couldn't drink or sleep so all that was left was to wait the whole thing out. The only thing I had at the moment were those dusty books and the vinyl records I brought from England. Trusty old chap Bob Seger and the fittingly named Silver Bullet Band was with me all along.

(🎶Bob Seger - Shame On The Moon)

In the morning, when I heard the door opening, my heart skipped a beat as I grabbed a silver knife (I have been taught to always carry one with me) and ran to see who's there. It was Bobby who returned by himself.

'Where is Sam?' I asked. 'Where is Dean?'

He hung his head and had a difficult time to make eye contact with me. The old man looked ever so worn down, like an empty shell of himself. Moments later Bobby meaninglessly let me know that Sam's fine and shared nothing more. My gaze followed him as he sluggishly walked up the stairs to his room and locked his door so quietly it was downright chilling. His actions were as calm as they could be but I on the other hand had a hard time containing my emotions. I fell to the floor as my legs couldn't hold my weight. The slowly in-sinking facts made me heavier than what my weakening body had the capacity to carry. This was all followed by crying out and sobbing until I fell asleep right where I was.

The upcoming weeks and months were more than emotional. The mood was somber, everything seemed so dark and without Dean keeping the peace between us we fell apart.

Sam began to act strangely. He didn't want to burn Dean's body claiming he can save him and Dean will need a physical form to return to once he dragged him out of Hell, just like his brother did before him. He changed a lot too, there were occasions when he couldn't control his anger and you and I both remember what a loose cannon he can turn to be when the rage kicks in. We had more than just one fight over this and other matters where both him and I acted like hurt kids and neither of us was willing to compromise. It ended roughly 2 months after Dean's departure when he said something, I kept provoking him by talking back, he threatened me and called his bluff by asking if he would hit me - again. He packed up and left in a door-slamming mood. Since than Sam hasn't called me on the phone or showed up at the house.

More arguments and disappointments in each other shadowed the already grim situation. Bobby started to drown himself in alcohol whenever he felt like it. And by that, I mean in the morning upon waking up, during midday at lunch. He even had a "spare" bottle upstairs under his bed hidden inside a blank space cover with a plank, like a teenager. I found massive amounts of empty flasks almost every day in various places both inside and outside of the house. It was obvious from the very beginning that he liked his booze but drinking never seemed to be a serious problem until this point. I tried to convince him to put the glass down with little success but what could I do? I was in his debt, lived in his house...

What a weak, pathetic, miserable excuse for a human being I am.

Long story short: things turned upside down and everything seemed so very despondent during those days. I lost Sam and Bobby was drifting farther and farther away by each day. If this wasn't enough I also had to give up my job. I couldn't carry on without the risk of imperil. This was all fine when the 4 of us were all together and looked out for each other but when the group fell apart I slacked off to fulfil promises and to do favours. I tried to play the "I'm sick and the doctor said to restrain myself from working" card, however the company has had enough and they let me go for good. I was left almost penniless with a nearly empty bank account and damn it, this is so bloody depressing. I'm having a hard time just by writing this and I can't imagine what's like for an outside reader. Still, hang on, please! Some good news are about to come and things are about to be shaken up.

It was September, 4 months passed after his death when I was woken up late at night by an echoing, loud shout. The message was clear: "Dean Winchester is saved." I was sleeping that time but the voices were so obstreperous I fell off the bed and hit the floor. "What a strange dream?" I said to myself as I slipped back under the sheets not mentioning a soul what happened.

A whole day has passed when the doorbell rang. I was expecting a hunter in need and Bobby seemed to have thought the same when he went to answer the call. I remained in the kitchen preparing dinner, slicing onions, shedding a few tears in the process. I heard voices talking, this time not in my head, jokes on you. Bobby and our guest were having a chat, then the (door)bell ringer raised his voice. This gave me the impression of someone I've met so I put the knife down and headed out. I thought I was dreaming when I laid eyes on Bobby swinging a silver knife in Dean Winchester's general direction.