My Father, Sam Winchester

Chapter 33

Chapter 33

"Quicker. Your reflexes must be as sharp as any angel's if you do not wish to die."

Farrah grunted. She wasn't very keen on practicing Cas's "emergency" way, which included fighting him with a regular dagger until she won. They'd been at it for thirty minutes at least (the reason for her slow reflexes).

"Stop," she panted, leaning back against the wall. "Please. I need to rest. I'm tired."

He stepped away from her. "Very well. Are you hungry?"

"Yeah, a little. Lunch break?"

He nodded and they raced down to the kitchen, making Bobby jump. Farrah sighed; Cas won. "Dang it."

"What are you two up to now? I've been hearin bangin up there for an hour."

"Castiel's sparring with me; I needed a break."

Cas opened the door to Bobby's fridge and said, "There is beer and chicken in here."

She grinned. "Chicken's fine." He got it out and, as he handed the container to her, it heated up perfectly. "Wow, thanks."

"You are welcome."

Bobby got a beer out and said, "How's the fighting going for you?"

"Eh, moderately well."

Cas looked at her funnily. "You are very modest, Farrah." To Bobby he said, "She is very good. She could win if she fought Dean."

She grinned, trying not to let teeth show since she had chicken in her mouth, all chewed up and slimy.

"Wow. That good, huh?"

She shrugged. "I've not beat Castiel yet. Once I can do that, I'll be ready to-"

"To take us on? Oh, my dear, you are sorely mistaken." Farrah jumped up and grabbed a knife. Four angels stood before her.

"Balls," spit Bobby.

"That's a word for your position, if you want to be crude. I'll make this simple." Since the speaking angel was so close to her, it was very simple for her to snap her arm up and stab Farrah in the heart with a cursed angel blade.

~

"What?!"

Dean almost dropped his phone as stomped on the brakes and spun the car around, almost rolling it. Sam's arms shot out, lest he hit his head. "Dean!"

"We're two hours away. You lock those SOBs up and don't do anything to them until I'm there." His voice was trembling as he threw his phone in the backseat and snapped both hands on the wheel.

"What happened?" Sam asked.

Dean was silent for a moment, then he slammed his hands against the wheel of his car angrily and cursed loudly. "Dean! What's going on? What happened at Bobby's?" Then his face paled. "Is-is Bobby..."

"No."

Sam sighed in relief and sat back against the seat. "Then what happened? Farrah burn the house down?"

"No."

"Dean, tell me what happened!"

Sam watched the speed dial rise to eighty, eighty-five, and finally hover at ninety, before Dean spoke. "She's dead. Farrah's gone. An angel killed her."

"What?" he gasped, and hastily started to pray, "Dear Castiel, please come get us. We're on highway 7 just passing mile marker 431.4."

"He's not going to-"

"Hello." Dean looked back at Cas. "I will take you back to Bobby's. Please stop the car so that you do not run into the house."

"No. Get us there like this or not at all."

Cas sighed. "Very well."

The scene changed and Dean slammed on the breaks, pulling the car to a stop at the foot of Bobby's front door. As soon as the car was stopped, he got out and raced through the door. Cas was already inside, and Sam wasn't far behind either of them.

Dean stopped so short that Sam nearly plowed him over.

"Farrah," Sam gasped. Her skin was grey and veiny, though no blood was present, and her eyes were black holes, like they'd been burned out. There was a black spot in her chest, where he assumed she'd been stabbed.

Dean didn't say anything. He just stood there, staring at her body.

"Hey, Farrah. I'll have the bacon cheeseburger and a coke."

"Go pay. I'll deal with them...Farrah, go!"

The memories, from when he'd first met Farrah to the last time he'd spoken to her, were as painful as a knife to the heart-and he knew what that felt like. His ears were pierced with her scream, which was the last sound he'd ever heard her make. How he wished he hadn't left her here.

The last thing she had done for him was heal his broken bones. The last thing he had done for her was leave her here with Bobby, just like John used to. That's exactly why he didn't want kids; he didn't want to be his father.

He'd pulled her into this life, and now she was dead because of it. It was his fault. Of course it was. When wasn't it his fault?

"Okay," he said, his voice thick with unshed tears. "Where are they?"

He grabbed an angel blade and followed Bobby downstairs. "Unfortunately, two got away. But the woman's the one who iced her," said Bobby.

Dean stopped and stepped closer to Bobby, rage boiling through his eyes and simmering in his voice. "Let me make one thing very, very clear. This was murder of an innocent child's life, not a monster to be killed. Understood?"

"Perfectly, pretty boy. They're this way. Take your anger out on them, not me."

Dean stomped over to them and inside a big ring of burning holy oil, where a man and woman were tied up. "You said she did it?"

"That's right. Guy there hasn't said a word."

Dean stabbed the man, killing him. Then he turned to the woman. "I'm going to kill you, slow and painfully, for what you did."

She smiled. "Do what you want. I killed the most dangerous creature in the world."

He sliced her cheek, cut open her wrist, and stabbed her thigh. Every place he cut her, bright light poured out of her. Neither said anything more-and Bobby, watching, felt sorrow for how he had treated Farrah, who was his granddaughter of sorts-but Dean did as Bobby told him; he took his anger out on her. Then, when he had finally had enough, he stabbed her heart.

Tears in his eyes and on his cheeks, Dean growled out thickly, "That's for my daughter."

"Dean!" shouted Sam.

"What? I'm busy!" he growled back.

"Get up here, now! You're gonna want to see this!"

Dean tossed the angel blade to the floor and walked upstairs.

All at once, the anger and sorrow fled him.

Farrah was silently crying and Sam was smiling, embracing her such that her feet were a foot from the floor.

When she saw him, she pushed back from Sam's arms and fell to the ground with a thud. "Dad," she cried, running forward to him.