Sad Supernatural Imagines :'(

Go home. (Part 2)

(5 years after saying goodbye)
(Age 25)
-
I was driving home from work after a late shift.
My phone rang and I answer without looking at the caller ID.
"Victoria?"
A mans voice sobbed into the phone.
I didn't recognize it.
"Who is this?"
The voice was silent for a few seconds.
"It's Sam. I really need you right now."
I gasped at how choked up he sounded.
"Sammy...Is everything ok? What happened?"
I asked frantically.
Again he stayed silent.
"Vic. Dads dead, and I really want to see you because I can't-"
I shushed him.
"Where are you?"
He texted me an address.
"I'm on my way."
I hung up the phone and spun the car around heading to were Sam was.
-
I arrived to what seemed to look like a cabin.
My dads impala no where to be seen.
I must have had the wrong place.
I walked up to the front door anyways.
Knocking.
Not wanting to walk in on a pair of shook up hunters.
The door opened to reveal my little brother.
He looked older than he did when he was eighteen.
He was a bit taller and his face was bothered by stress and pain.
He didn't say a word he just grabbed me and hugged me.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and buried my face into it.
We both began to weep quietly.
"I'm so sorry for not being here, Sammy."
I sobbed pulling away from him to see his face.
It was tear streaked and red.
"It's okay. It's not your fault."
He whispered wiping away my remaining tears.
He led me deeper into the cabin where Dean sat on a couch with a bottle of whiskey in his hand.
He looked up at me with empty and tired eyes.
"Little sister."
He said quietly grinning softly.
I smiled at him and immediately choked up again.
"Dean-"
He cut me off by crushing me in an embrace.
I was offset at first, but I let my hands wrap around his waist.
He smelled the same.
Wood and alcohol.
He let me go but kept a loose grip on my shoulders as he beamed at me.
The only trace of sadness hidden in his deep green eyes.
"Where is he?"
I asked softly.
Dean pointed to the stairs.
I nodded and slowly walked up the creeky steps.
I pulled up a chair besides him.
"I meant what I said. I know that things were rough when we were kids, but I will always love you dad. I made a mistake leaving. I didn't even get to say goodbye, hell, if I had just stayed...you might still be alive right now. It should be me dead, not you. I should have been a better daughter. A better sister. But it's just to late now."
My voice was shaken and broken.
I grabbed his cold hand and traced across his fingers.
I heard someone walk into the room.
I quickly wiped my tears and moved his hand back onto his chest.
I turned to face Dean who was leaning against the doorway.
"None of that was true, you know?"
I pursed my lips and looked back at my dad.
"Yes it is. You can't tell me you don't look at him and wish it was me lying there."
He looked at me as if I was speaking another language.
"No Vic. I don't. I remember when we were little and you used to sit in dads lap and tell him that he would be okay and when I started hunting you did the same for me. We were the ones that hurt you, Victoria. I wish I could turn back time and yell at dad to look at you instead of looking through you. We messed up big time with you, kiddo. Sad part is...We didn't realize it until you left. Nothing was the same."
He walked closer to me ignoring the tears that were forming in our eyes.
"Because of you, Vic, Sam went to college. Dad didn't drink as much and I stopped being the way that I was. I was the best brother that I could be to Sam for you. I love you, little sister, even if I didn't show it until now."
He grabbed my face in his hands and wiped my tears with his thumbs.
He kissed my forehead gently.
-
"I'm gonna kill whatever did this to him. I'm going to rip out its heart through its chest."
I cried through clenched teeth as I saw fire engulfing my fathers wrapped body.
"Vic-"
I shushed Sammy by holding up my hand.
"We have work to do."
I said with grit in my voice.
"What?"
Dean asked quietly.
"One last job, boys. Together."
I held both of their hands and squeezed.
"Together."
They said simultaneously trying to match my anger.
One last job.
-
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