𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 || 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫

Chapter 25 ~ The Nephilim, the Wood Nymph, & Me

Episode: Season 15 - Last Holiday Pt. 1

Yasmin's POV:

This really hadn't been how I'd foreseen my Thursday night going - being babysat by the friendly Bunker wood nymph and still trying to start up a friendship with the very quiet and moody son of Satan.

You could say I'd had better weeks.

It all started when a wood nymph showed up in the Bunker - apparently a leftover relic from the Men of Letters days. She was nice enough though and soon, mom, Dean, Roman, and Uncle Sam had all begun to trust her. Me? I thought she was just a little too perky.

So when Dean and mom took off on a hunt together - like "old times" they'd said - I'd declined. To be honest, I couldn't understand how in the world mom could stand to be around him, much less be with him. Not after everything he put us through. He didn't deserve to win her back, if you asked me. A part of me even felt a little betrayed by her choice - no matter if that was right or wrong.

Besides that, though, who else was going to look after the Bunker? Not to mention Jack and my pesky little brother.

A sigh escaped from between my plump pink lips as I walked down the gray hallway to the kitchen, the delicious scent of freshly baked sugar cookies hanging in the air. Hm, looks like Mrs. Butters was at it again. Dean would be sad he's missing this.

Mrs. Butters was just washing up the dishes when I stumbled through the doorway.

"So...your father is Lucifer?" she was saying nonchalantly, "Huh! Oh my...what's that like?"

It was only then I realized she wasn't alone and I couldn't help but cringe when I noticed who she was directing these words to. Don't get me wrong - it's not like I disliked the guy. Jack was drop-dead gorgeous. I don't care who you are, it was true.

But for some reason, he wanted nothing to do with me. I suspected it was likely because of who my father was. It was apparent there was a lingering tension between the two. Although I'd never heard exactly why.

Jack didn't share the same animosity for Roman though - in fact, the two seemed to have hit it off pretty well and were becoming fast friends. Not surprisingly, Roman sat by himself in a corner, already munching on some of Mrs. Butters' cookies.

"I didn't really know my father very well," Jack began, drying dishes as she handed them to him, "The only family I've ever really had is Sam, Dean, Cas and, uh...Mary."

"Mary?"

My ears perked up at that, instantly curious despite myself as the unfamiliar name popped up in the conversation. But Jack was silent, clearly not wanting to answer that particular question.

"Oh, it's alright. You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," Mrs. Butters assured him softly, her tone motherly as usual.

"Mary was...Sam and Dean's mom. And my, um..." Jack finally spoke up, taking a deep breath before slowly releasing it, "She was a good friend."

"Well, she sounds lovely,"

And then he dropped the bomb on us...

"She was. But um...I killed her..." Jack confessed, a grave melancholy tone coating his words along with a bitterness I couldn't place.

I sucked in a sharp breath, stunned beyond belief. My emerald orbs widened at that, Roman's expression mirroring mine. He...he murdered our...our grandmother? The room felt shaky then and I had to grab onto the nearby counter-top to keep from toppling over entirely. Why didn't they tell us about this?! That this boy we were living with, eating dinner with was-was a killer?! How did it even...how did it even happen?!

"I-I didn't mean to...it was an accident!" Jack said frantically then, as if replying to my unasked question just as Mrs. Butters made a shocked sound in the back of her throat.

All was silent in the kitchen then as we all tried to process Jack's words. Even Roman was struggling with this new bit of information, regardless of his newfound closeness with Jack.

But then, with a touch so gentle it barely registered until her fingers were placed under his chin, Mrs. Butters reached out to Jack.

"We all do things...things that we're not proud of," she told him, her words soft with an undertone of warmth I knew deep down was sincere, "But life gives us second chances. And it is our obligation to hold on to them....You understand?"

Her words really hit home then as my thoughts wandered unwillingly to that of my father. Ever since we got here, Roman and myself, to the Bunker and met our fathers, I had kept Dean at arms-length. I still hated him for what he did - to me, my mother, to Roman. He left his family. Yeah, I know the specifics. I know it was mom who left. But still...he could've looked for us. Why didn't he look for us?

My chest tightened at the thought and I bit down hard on my tongue so that I wouldn't cry, so that the stupid tears wouldn't fall.

But before anyone could notice or Mrs. Butters could offer me a cookie like she did to Jack and Roman, I exited the kitchen and desperately hoped that no one saw the tears begin to flow.