Like Father Like Daughter

                                                                                                {1}

She could sense something wasn't right. Samantha jumped out of bed and surveyed her surroundings. She was in her room, in the house she had lived in since she was five. It was a nice house, her family wasn't rich, and they moved a lot. Samantha's senses were very attuned to the abnormal, a trait she got both from her mother and father. She crept to her door and walked down the hall towards her sister's room; she knew what to do in this situation. She woke her sister and they walked quietly to their parents room.

Her sense of wrongness got stronger and stronger as they neared the door. Sam turned the knob and edged the door open, holding Ellen's little hand in hers; she was only four, and didn't quite understand the situation. Sam, being fourteen, was quite aware. She peered in through the gap in the door and saw her mother lying in her bed, in what appeared to be blood, lots of it. Sam squeezed her sister's hand tighter and walked into the room.

The wards over her parents window had been damaged, and the window itself was shattered, the salt line broken. There was a distinct sign of a struggle, and her mother, Jo, lay with her throat gashed open, covered in her own blood.

There was no sign of her father. Sam dropped her sister's hand and walked to their mother. She put two fingers to her temple, no pulse. Ellen started to sob. "Ma? Mama?" She looked up at Sam, who was holding back tears. Sam held her sister and whispered, "It's gonna be okay, Ell, it's gonna be okay. Shh." Sam grabbed Ellen's hand as they ran down the stairs. Whatever had gotten their mother had taken their father, she was sure of it.

Just then a huge bang sounded through the house. Sam ran with Ellen down the stairs and around a corner to the panic room, she let go of Ellen, who was starting to cry, and sat with her on one of the beds. She grabbed up Ellen's blanket and wrapped her in it. "Stay here, okay? I'll be back in a minute. Just stay here."

She then grabbed the demon knife and some salt. She turned to her sister and gave a reassuring smile.

"I'll be back," she said, and that was all.

Sam raced towards the ruckus and held her blade at the ready. She tiptoed towards the kitchen. There was Dean; her father, and a man, clearly possessed. It was obvious the demon had the better of him, Dean had no weapons and was fending it off with his bare hands. The demon sensed Sam there and turned towards her. Dean saw her and yelled at her to run. But she stood her ground. The demon's full attention was on her.

She made eye contact with her dad and threw the knife. It soared through the air in a perfect arc, Dean caught it, and he plunged the blade down just as it lunged for her. The blade went straight through the demon's back, the tip poking through its chest, just where its heart would be.

Sam looked up at Dean.

"What were you thinking Sammy? You could've been killed!" Dean panted. It was clear he was hurt, but he wasn't paying attention to himself.

"How'd it get in? Through the wards--the salt?"

"I don't know. Are you okay? Where's your sister?" He looked worried.

"Dean I'm fine, she's fine. But..." Sam hesitated.

"But what?" He demanded.

"Mom. She's..." Sam couldn't finish. Her mom was dead. How could this happen?

Dean raced past her up the stairs, anger and confusion written on his face. Sam went back to Ellen and held her as she sobbed. She could hear her father's distraught cries. Sam stayed strong, she had to.

                                                                                                {...}

He had already lost so much, why this?

"First Sam and now Jo? Why?" Dean cried as he lay over his wife's body.

The demon was a message, but what message? Dean hadn't a clue, so he did the only thing he could, he prayed. He prayed to Cas. He prayed to anyone who would listen. He prayed with all the strength he had left.

                                                                                                 {...}

Cas watched Dean from the doorway, he had come as soon as he had heard the cries. He couldn't bear to see him like this; weeping for Jo, who could not be saved, and Dean knew it. But he still had that little spark of hope left. Cas went to Dean and placed his hand on his shoulder. Dean, knowing immediately who it was, grabbed Cas's arm and pulled him towards himself. Cas knelt and held Dean's head against his chest. Cas had never seen Dean so distraught before, and the sight brought with it a knot of feelings that wedged themselves in Cas's throat. Cas didn't feel this emotion often, but he knew it was sorrow.

Cas bent and kissed the top of Dean's head. Then, remembering Sam's advice from so many years ago, wrapped his arms around Dean and pulled him closer.

"Your daughters, Dean..." Cas began, and that was all it took.

Cas felt Dean take a deep breath. It had always amazed Cas how quickly Dean could compose himself. He lifted his head from Cas's shoulder and wiped his eyes. He had that determined look in his eyes, the same look he'd gotten after his father and Sam had died.

Cas helped him to his feet, and Dean walked down the stairs to his girls.