The Darkest Road {Supernatural: Book Two}

Chapter One: Back in Black

The Darkest Road

Chapter One: Back in Black

"Back in black I hit the sack

I been too long I'm glad to be back

Yes I am

Let loose from the noose

That's kept me hanging about

I keep looking at the sky cause it's gettin' me high

Forget the hearse cause I'll never die

I got nine lives cat's eyes

Using every one of them and runnin' wild."

I was upstairs in the spare room of Bobby Singer's house I'd first stayed in upon meeting the Winchesters. The first month after Dean's death, Sam and I had stayed together. There'd been a couple of different instances where we'd tried getting Dean back, all for not. Sam, to my knowledge kept good to his promise to me. I'd abandoned the idea of letting Oz take over for me, especially since if I got Dean out he'd try to kill me for what I'd turned into. Maybe death was what I deserved. I still couldn't help but feel like I was the one responsible for bringing this into their lives. 

     The loss of one of my best friends was hard. The crushing of part of my soul had been unbearable. Had it not been for Sam the first month, I'd have been begging Michael to bring me back to heaven.

     Sam decided to go out on his own 31 days after Dean's death, much to my heartbreak. He left a note. It was the only thing he left. Three lines:

Roslyn,

     I need to be on my own for a little while. If you need anything, call.

     I'm so sorry.

     I tried calling, but I never got an answer. Having nowhere to go after Sam's departure, Bobby took me in with open arms. I helped him with paper work, research for fellow hunters, and kept his house clean (but not too clean, because he hated that— he said it distracted him too much and he never knew where anything was). Being around him made me feel close to the boys, somehow.

     Shortly after Sam left, I was going crazy with grief. Bobby helped mull it during the days, but at nights in an empty bed was when I truly felt everything as if it were a new wound being ripped open. Shortly after Dean's death, I'd taken to this sharing a bed with Sam for the sake of familiarity and comfort; now that both of my boys were gone, I was sleeping all alone again, with no one but Luna. Before the Winchesters, I thought I was okay with being alone. But after feeling the sort of love and loyalty of a real family, I didn't want my old life back. I didn't want to be alone anymore. 

     I prayed to Castiel, Michael, Gabriel, any angel that might have had their ears on, begging someone to raise Dean from perdition. I begged God in prayer, asking Him to find the importance and goodness in Dean and bring him back to me. Sam would come home then, and we'd be together like we were supposed to be. I got

no answer from angels nor God. In fact, I think the angels were doing their best to ignore me.

     I was reading A Tale of Two Cities when a loud resounding crash had me rocketing to my feet and running down the stairs to check on Bobby. I whipped a dagger out of the holster on my jeans.

     "Bobby?" I called as I rounded the corner, knife raised.

     Suddenly,  I had to stop in my footfalls. The air left my chest. I felt like I was in a dream. Staring straight at me was no monster. It was Dean Winchester.