Revenge [Supernatural]

Chapter 11

Dean then lead me up the stairs, and into my room. By now my head-ache had returned, and my throat felt tight. I just wanted to shrivel up and die. I sat down on my bed and put my head in my hands, sobbing. Dean sat next to me and placed his arm around my shoulders, rubbing my arm. I wrapped my arms around him and buried my face in the crook of his neck. His warmth against my cheek made me feel secure. For the first time in a very long time, I felt safe. We sat there like that for the next ten minutes, Dean running his hands through my hair as I cried on his shoulder, making his tshirt slightly damp. He held me close, not quite knowing what to say to me. He'd try and make me smile by whispering a joke of some kind in my ear, and he usually succeeded, making me laugh weakly through my tears. Eventually, he pulled back, holding my face in his hands, softly wiping away my tears with his thumbs. "You need to rest." He said softly, in almost a whisper. I nodded slowly. Kicking off my shoes, I sat on the bed with my head resting against the wall with the covers over my legs, not bothering to get changed. Dean leaned over and kissed me chastely on my forehead. "Now get some sleep, you're gonna need it." He started to leave. "Dean..." I muttered, looking down at my hands momentarily. He turned around and met my gaze. "Yea?" he asked, leaning against the doorframe. "Thank you." I said, blinking back another flood of tears that threatened to rush down my face. "What for?" he inquired, his face slightly confused. "For staying with me when I broke down and then blubbered like an idiot for 10 minutes." I smiled. He chuckled, before running a hand through his hair. "That's fine. Everyone's gotta vent every once in a while." he said, his face turning slightly more serious. I just nodded. "Ok, you go and get some rest. I gotta feeling it's gonna be a big day tomorrow." he smiled. And with that, he turned around, and closed the door gently behind him. 

Finally laying my head on the pillow, I couldn't help but think. Would it ever end? Even after this case is dead and gone, there would be others. Other people that needed my help, and other sons of bitches that needed to get sent back to hell. All I've wanted since my parents died was for the misery to end. For my life to go back to normal. But I knew it wouldn't. It couldn't. I know that once you start hunting, you die hunting. Only a select few escape it and live their lives. Settle down, get married and have a bunch of kids. But even those people live in fear. Fear that one day evil will find you one day, and when it does it'll be pissed. And then their new life will be in jeopardy again. And then misery will return. There were so many thoughts and 'what if' scenarios whizzing around my head. But despite that, it wasn't long until I fell asleep, and let the darkness engulf me. 

------Flashback------

My eyes flashed open, hearing a loud crashing noise from downstairs. I was at my parents house, staying there for the holidays. Thanksgiving, to be exact. Well, it definitely looked like Thanksgiving, with all the turkey decorations spread all across the room. Eve had insisted that she didn't come with me, saying that she would come in the way of me spending 'quality time' with my family, and that she was 'too busy'. Sure. It wasn't like I didn't ever see them. We lived like, 3 streets away from them, I saw them all the time! Truth was, Everlyse always felt awkward around my parents, I never used to know why, until that day when I found out about her... angel-ness. She explained to me that she knew that my father had a feeling she was different, but he just couldn't put his finger on it. That's why she acted a bit different towards them. I could hear voices downstairs, there was more than one person downstairs. At first I had a suspicion that someone just knocked something over on the way to the kitchen to get something to drink or something, but now I thought otherwise. Despite my curiosity, I couldn't find the energy to get myself out of bed. But that all changed very quickly. I suddenly heard an ear piercing scream. My mothers scream. I all too quickly realized what was happening. Where I was. "No." I whispered to myself. I literally catapulted off of my bed and through the door and ran to the wooden banister and looked down. Just as it did that fateful day, a large, and still growing pool of blood lay on the floor coming from the direction of the living room. The tears were now pouring down my face. "No! This can't be happening!"

I ran down the stairs as fast as my legs could take me. I turned to my right, and got frozen where I stood. All I could do was gasp as I stared at them. My parents. Lying there, dead. It looked so real. To real. It looked exactly like it did a year ago, down to the last details. There was so much blood. You wouldn't have thought just two bodies could have that much blood. I mustered all the courage I had, and slowly walked towards them. The looks they held... the fear in their eyes. I had to look away. You always want the people you love to die peacefully, like in their sleep or something. Well instead of the last moments of my parents' lives being filled with happiness, and thoughts of their happiest memories... they were scared, vulnerable, and choking on their own blood. I gently closed my mothers eyelids, as I then did with my fathers. I then slowly undid the locket from my mothers neck, stained from the blood that still oozed out of the deep cut across her throat. I then moved over to my father and got the dog tag from around my fathers'. I gripped them in my clenched hand, as my breathing hitched, the anger and pain boiling under my skin. My hands were covered in my parents' spilled blood. It was also on my legs, from where I kneeled down next to them. I then remembered the killer was still in the room. "You never did tell me why you did this to them." I said, not looking up, and not moving from my position. I didn't need to. I remember perfectly well from the year before what he looked like. He just stood there emotionless, with black eyes, blood all over him, and a large knife in his right hand. He didn't answer me, so I finally turned my head towards him. "Why did you do this?" I asked again, my voice cracking. A sly smile played around his lips. I couldn't hold it back. I was shuddering with anger. "WHY?!"

I instantly sat upright, panting heavily. There were beads of sweat on my forehead, and tear stains down my cheeks. I instinctively looked around for my parents, and slowly realized where I was. I brought my hand up to my chest and felt both the necklaces that lay there. Feeling them in-between my fingers, I tried to push the images that I now saw oh so vividly out of my mind. I hadn't had a dream like that in a long time now, so what triggered it? Why now? I heaved my fatigued body out of bed, dragging my feet as I walk down the stairs and into the kitchen. I grabbed a glass and filled it with water. Bringing it to my lips, I took a much needed mouthful and threw the rest of the contents into the sink. I caught a glance at the time on the microwave. "Seriously?! 4.30 in the morning?" I moaned, and walked into the living room, settling myself down into the couch. After about 5 minutes of doing absolutely nothing I got a bit bored. I mean, I couldn't just sit there for hours with nothing to do. After a while, I decided to clean my knife collection and make sure all of my guns are in good shape. A chore that hasn't been done in a while. I sat down on the floor with most of my arsenal around me, and started by cleaning my knives and daggers etc until I could see my reflection in each and every one of them. That was the easy part. Then I had to take each of my guns one by one, take them apart, clean them (both the insides and outsides), and put them back together again. That's not THAT bad, you say? Well, it isn't that bad, but it makes it more difficult when a) You have a shit-load of guns. b) You're still drowsy from sleeping, and your brain hasn't completely woken up yet. and c) You have a hangover. 

After a lot of fumbling and cursing, I had successfully gotten through the majority of my guns. As I was re-assembling the last of them, I heard a creaking noise coming from just outside the room. I instinctively raised my gun in the direction that I heard the noise come from. Moments later, a dazed Sam came walking through the archway, rubbing his eyes. He soon noticed me sitting in the next room. "Nice gun." he smiled. I looked down at my still half-assembled weapon and sighed. I placed the gun on the floor beside me, after I had quickly attached the remaining pieces onto it, and stood up. "You're up early." I said, walking towards him in the kitchen, pouring a cup of coffee. He chuckled. "I could say the same to you." There was a pause, as I tried to find a good come back. "Touche." I murmured. I heard the shower turn on. "Wait, is Dean up too?" I asked, to which Sam nodded. "Yea, we both woke up when we heard you screaming in your sleep. I sent Dean to go check on you, but you had stopped by the time he got to your room." I put a hand to my mouth. "I'm so sorry, I didn't-" "Don't sweat it, it's fine. What were you dreaming about anyway? I mean, unless you don't want to tell me, 'cos that's totally fine too." I giggled a little. "You're sweet. I was dreaming about the night... about the night my parents were murdered." I looked down, swallowing my emotions. He smiled sadly, and put a hand reassuringly on my shoulder. "He slit their throats', Sam. That bastard just slaughtered them like they were animals." I choked, a tear running down my cheek. "Jo, we are going to find him. I promise. It'll be ok." He said reassuringly, bending down a little so he could look me in the eyes. I nodded, trying to make myself believe that would be the case. "I better go and wake Eve up." I muttered, wiping a stray tear away from my face. I let out a sigh as I slowly turned and walked sluggishly up the stairs.