The singers daughter(spn fan fiction)

Chapter Three

A/N~ for the published changes no need to reread I had some grammar errors that needed fixed ^^

Sam's body lied there on the bed in a house close by where they had found him. Bobby walked into the house, "Dean?" he called out. "Brought you this back." He said, showing Dean a bucket with some chicken inside it. Dean looked back at Bobby, then to Sam"No thanks, I'm fine," he said and leaned in the door frame. "You should eat something" "I said I'm fine," He said, standing up and walking over to Bobby grabbing his beer off the table to take a drink. Bobby had a contemplating look on his face, "Dean... I hate to bring this up. I really do. But don't you think maybe it's time? We bury Sam." Dean looked at Bobby in the eyes, "No." He said and sat down on the couch."We could maybe-" Bobby started before getting cut off by Dean. "What? torch his corpse?"Dean shook his head as the following words left his lips"Not yet." Bobby leaned down on the desk in front of him, looking Dean in the eyes with a confident and strong voice, "I want you to come with me." "I'm not going anywhere." "Dean said as he leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees and looking to the floor. Bobby sighed softly, "Dean, please."

"Won't you cut me some slack?"Dean asked, getting an annoyed tone to his voice. "I just don't think you should be alone, that's all," Bobby said, meeting Dean's tone with a fatherly one. "I got to admit I could use your help." He added, looking at Dean. Dean scoffed at Bobby's comment when Bobby continued, "Something big is going down-- end-of-the-world big" Dean looked back up to Bobby, "Well, then let it end!" He yelled with an angry look. Bobby shook his head, looking at Dean in disbelief. "You don't mean that," Bobby said when Dean stood up irritatedly. He walked closer to Bobby, looking him dead in the eyes.

"You don't think so? Huh? You don't think I've given enough? You don't think I've paid enough?" He asked and gestured to Sam's corpse. "I'm done with it. All of it," His voice was getting quieter and softer. "If you know what's good for you, you'd turn around and get the hell out of here." Bobby just looked at him with worry. "Go!" Dean yelled and shoved Bobby, causing him to lose his balance and stumble onto a nearby table. Bobby continued to stay silent, looking at Dean, tears forming in his eyes, and seeing how Dean was feeling. "I'm sorry," Dean said, seeing what he did. Bobby forgave him instantly and just nodded to indicate such. "I'm sorry."Dean repeated and turned around, feeling himself get teary-eyed. "Please just go." He said and sniffled quietly. Bobby turned around and sighed "You'll know where I'll be," he said and left the house. Dean looked at Sam's corpse, then back to the space in front of him, clenching his jaw and a tear falling from his eye.

Dean sat in the corner of the room where Sam was, "You know when we were little--you couldn't have been more than 5-- you just started asking questions." Dean smiled slightly at the memory in his head."How come we didn't have a mom? Why do we always have to move around? Where did Dad go when he'd take off for days at a time? I remember I begged you-- "Quit asking, Sammy. Man, you don't wanna know." He chuckled slightly, looking at Sam. "I just wanted you to be a kid...Just for a little while longer." He paused briefly before adding, " I always tried to protect you-- you and Olivia. Keep you safe. Dad didn't even have to tell me. It was just always my responsibility, ya know? It's like I had one job...I had one job..." With his following sentence, his voice cracked with each word, "And I screwed it up. " He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees, trying not to cry as his lips quivered slightly, "I blew it, and for that, I'm sorry. " He said as more tears fell from his eyes. He wiped them away as he looked up, then back to Sam, "I guess that's what I do. I let down the people I love. I let Dad down. I let Bobby and Olivia down. And I guess I'm just supposed to let you down, too." he started to shake his head, "but how can I? How am I supposed to live with that?" Dean began crying again, "What am I supposed to do? Sammy. God." He sniffled once more and repeated, "What am I supposed to do?" Dean inhaled sharply and stood up, not taking his eyes off of his brother. "What am I supposed to do?!" he yelled, looking out to the air.