My Father, Sam Winchester

Chapter 22

Chapter 22

*Flashback-seventeen years ago*

"Sam, come with me."

Sam nodded and closed the book he was reading. "Yes, Sir."

"Dean, stay here and hold the fort down."

"Yes, Sir."

Dean was anxious for his dad and brother to leave; he'd met a girl, and told her he would go see her that night.

John closed the motel door and Dean leaped to his phone, dialing the number he'd memorized.

"Sam! Hey! You still coming over?"

Dean smiled. "I'll be there in twenty minutes."

*Now*

Dean glanced sideways at Farrah, her recently died hair covering her face.

He almost told her, almost let the truth out, because he wanted her to know. But he wouldn't put that burden on her. Even being her uncle was bad enough. Anyone close to him died.

He didn't want to be close to her; he didn't want to even meet her. When he had seen her name tag and that she knew his name, he had been nearly desperate to get Sam away from her.

"Dean?"

He looked over at her, his green eyes reflected in her own. "Yeah?"

"What's wrong?"

She may have had his eyes, but she was as observant as Sam. He shrugged. "Nothing." The word was sour in his mouth. He got so sick of saying that word over and over again. But what else could he do?

She frowned. "I know something's bothering you. You can trust me."

"I do." It passed through his lips easily. He did trust her; he always had. From the moment they met, he had loved and trusted her. Sure, he'd seemed cold to her, but he was just hoping to get her to leave.

But she was already in the life, though she didn't realize it. She researched the strange, learned how to kill it, and protected herself against it. He'd tried to keep his family out of it, but with no luck.

And he was ashamed to admit to it. Not because he was Farrah's father, he was not ashamed of that, but because of her being part demon.

Sam had had a nice long chat with him after that little white lie about having demon blood in his body while he was with Emily. Dean had evaded every question, of course, but Sam eventually got the truth.

"Then tell me," she said softly.

He shook his head, puckering his lips a bit. "I'm good."

She sighed and sat back. "Alright." Tying her hair back into a ponytail hid the pink streaks, and she straightened her top. They were headed to one of the crime scenes, so a girl with a FBI badge and pink hair would most definitely cause suspicion.

As soon as they stepped out of the car, Farrah froze. "Dean, stop," she hissed.

"What?" he asked, the door half closed.

They looked around, and Farrah just sat back down in the car, closed the door, and locked it. She pulled Dean inside and did the same with his door.

"What are you doing?"

"Drive away from here. Back up slowly, and drive away."

The only thing that made her tremble was angels, ears stuffed to make them deaf to her commands, ready to kill her. And she'd seen five.

Her foot tapped wildly and her eyes darted around as they drove back to the motel. She chewed on her lip, praying that none of them followed.

When she saw Cas in the rearview mirror, she screamed. Dean jumped at the volume of it, swerving, and looked back. "Cas," he sighed in relief.

"Sorry," she said, putting her hand over her heart. "I just saw a few deaf angels and it had me scared."

Cas nodded. "I understand."

She put her elbow on the window and leaned against it. "What're you doing here?"

"I have the name of your mother."

She perked up and looked back. "Really? Who is it?"

He looked away from her eyes sorrowfully. "Rachel. But she is dead. She attacked me during the war between myself and Raphael, nearly killed me, so I had no choice but to kill her."

Farrah nodded somberly. "Alright. Thank you for finding out, Castiel."

He nodded, and stayed.