Fight the Dead, Kill the Living

Regrets and Advice

December 12, 2008

Senoia, Georgia

Greene Farm

"Evie? Sweetheart, you okay?" The soft, grumbly voice of Uncle Bobby tore through the thin material of the tent like it was air. I choked on my sob, trying to force it away, but I knew he heard because without another word he unzipped the flap and walked right in. When he saw me, crumpled on the floor of the tent, he fell down beside me and pulled me in. 

He didn't need to ask me what was wrong. He knew better than anyone, perhaps even better than Dean. When it was over, and I was released from the hospital, we had no where else to go but to Bobby's. Dean was dealing with the loss of our father, which he dealt with better on his own, and I was dealing with the loss of my child. Bobby was the one to take care of me, while Sam tried to fix Dean. Bobby was there for every fit, every time I lost my mind, every time I wanted to just end it all. 

It was so weird to me then, how affected I could be by a life I never even knew I was connected to until it was gone. But not anymore. Now, when I know that I will probably never have a child, especially with the way the world is, it hurts more. 

"Are you okay?" He whispered into my hair. He was holding me to his chest, I had an ear over his heart, with one of his hand pressed against the back of my head to hold me there, and the other wrapped around my back. My hands were pinned to my chest by his body, but I didn't even care that I was very uncomfortable, he was calming. He was the father that I always wanted. 

"No." I whispered back, the word feeling like a stab in my heart. Like I was admitting defeat. 

"You will be." He said firmly. He was holding pressure to my wounds, to stop me from bleeding out. And it would work, for awhile. But who knows when the pressure would finally fail? Who knows when the blood, my happiness, would finally run out and leave me drowning in the sea of numbness that I associate with this loss. 

"It's just not fair." I mumbled, and I felt him nod against my head. 

"I know. I know you wish it was you. But things happen, in their own time, and in their own way. You, Evie, you were meant to be a mother. It will happen, when it's meant to." I nodded, but I couldn't control the tears that reignited at his words. They were kind, and they were comforting, but I was still jealous, and I was still hurting. 

"Just cry. It will hurt less... eventually." 

"Will it ever go away?"

"No... no it won't. You'll just learn to live with it."

"What's wrong with her?" I mumbled out, walking up next to Dean who was standing a good fifty feet away from the tent that Evie had disappeared into after the little powwow down at the barn. It had been almost fifteen minutes that she'd been locked up in there. Bobby, the old man that Cas saved, had gone up after her almost as soon as she walked off, but no one else dared to go up to the tent. She was crying, anyone with ears could hear that. 

"There's nothing wrong with her." Dean spat, turning his head to glare at me and I raised my hands in surrender, backing away just a tad. 

"I didn't mean it li' that an' you know it." I grunted, not apologizing, but also not really wanted to get on the bad side of this guy. He had seen some shit, I could tell just from the look in his eyes. It was the same look in Evie's eyes, and if he was anything like her, which I'm sure he is, then I wanted to stay as far away from his bad side as possible. 

"She lost a baby." He grunted, looking away from me and back up at the tent, hands crossed over his chest. He looked super pissed. 

"She was pregnant?" I grunted, surprised that this woman, this spitfire that was fit as hell, had ever been pregnant. 

"Yeah. Little over two years ago. The baby'd be... almost two now. She didn't know she was pregnant. We got into a car accident. We were fighting the demon that killed our mom, and it jumped into a body and used a Semi to slam us. I almost died, and our Dad died making a deal to save me. But Evie, she was in a coma for awhile, blood loss mixed with head trauma. When she woke up we told her and she... she lost her mind a little bit. Bobby helped her through it. I was dealing with my own shit, and I didn't pay enough attention to the fact that she was going through the same shit, plus some extra shit. It is my biggest regret, not being there for her." I honestly, cannot believe he just laid all that shit on me. I mean, we're fuckin' strangers and he just told me that shit. 

But damn. 

"Why don't... look I don't normally do advice but I'm gonna make an exception this one time. If you regret it so damn bad, why don't you go be there for her now? She's obviously not over it." I was chewing my nail, trying not to show how uncomfortable it made me giving this dude advice. I just had to keep reminding myself that it wasn't really for him, it was for Evie, and that only made it slightly tolerable. 

"You're right. Thanks Dixon." Dean said, his voice lighter and less growly than it was a minute ago. I watched him walk up to the tent, and unzip it. I could barely see through the door, but it was enough. 

Evie was on her knees, eyes red, puffy, her face was puffy like she had been rubbing at it, and she was curled up into the old man's chest. He looked exhausted, and like he didn't know what he was supposed to be doing. But as soon as the flap was opened, Evie looked up at Dean, and even from fifty feet away I could see the relief on her face as she practically lunged at him. He grabbed her, and I watched as she started crying again. Dean took a step into the tent, still holding Evie up by the arms he had around her waist, and the flap closed and I was cut off from her once again. 

Maybe... just maybe one day she'll look at me like that. Like I'm the one she's been waiting for. 

But for now, I get to be the guy off to the side, just waiting to be noticed.