LILITH | DEAN WINCHESTER [ ✓ ]

30. just in bello

"Lilith, are you still asleep?" recognized the voice of the preteen.

"Dean!" she whimpered louder than the storm, still hidden under the sheets.

The lights came on. The first thing she saw was the smiling Disney princesses on her bedsheets.

"Hey, kid," Dean pulled her out of hiding without considering that it was her little fortress. "Did you get scared?"

Lilith burst into such loud and hysterical crying that it would wake up all the neighbors and prompt them to call the police. Heavy tears soaked a large part of the sheets and the plush toy's head. Mucus ran from her nose and descended into her mouth, her pearl blonde hair sticking to her face, and her forehead covered in red dots from the strain of prolonged weeping. The level of fear was such that the preteen didn't know what to do.

"Mommy!" the little girl shouted as loudly as her voice allowed. "Mommy!" She choked on her words and, as a result, started crying even harder. "Mommy, I need you!"

"Calm down, you'll wake up Sammy. Your mom went out. She called just now to check on you because storms scare you. She said she's on her way," Dean reassured her.

"My mommy left?" The girl wiped her uncontrollable tears with the sleeve of her cloud-patterned pajamas and tried to calm down as Dean had asked. "Can you tell her to hurry?" She sniffled, and when she blinked, more tears fell.

"What's going on?" A groggy Sam entered the room with disheveled hair and half-closed eyes. He yawned. "Why are you crying, Lilith?" he asked, approaching the edge of the bed.

The eldest Winchester and caretaker of the children ran his hands over his face, clearing his thoughts in search of the patience he usually lacked around the girl. At such a young age, he could tell that Dean treated her differently than her brother, and it didn't necessarily mean sweetness. Her mom had told her that people had difficulties understanding others and not to expect them to know exactly how she felt, like mom did. Lilith seemed to have forgotten that.

"I want my mommy," she said with a lump in her throat. "I'm scared."

"Scared of what?" Sam asked, more understanding now.

"The darkness... the monsters... the storm..."

"There are no monsters here," Dean declared, just like their father did when he put an end to Sam's pleas to stay a few more days at their house. The girl leaned back and grabbed her stuffed animal. "I'm sorry," Dean said, changing his tone. "It's just a storm."

"But it was dark."

"It's okay, Lilith," Sam comforted her, taking her hand. The poor boy could barely keep his eyes open, but there he was with his scared friend. "Everyone is afraid of the dark. It's ugly."

"Alright," Dean glanced between the two children, pondering what to do. He always said he was too old to be a babysitter. His mission was alongside his father, between weapons and blood. "Sammy, go back to bed. I can take care of the girl."

"No," Sam yawned, shaking his head. "I'm staying awake until Regina arrives." Sam spoke like a hero, one who fought against tiredness with noble words and attempts. Lilith found it endearing. "You don't have to be afraid of the monsters, Lilith. I know how to fight, and Dean has killed many, he's like a real Batman."

"Come on, Sammy, to bed," Dean encouraged him with a small smile peeking through his lips. The younger brother finally gave in and returned to his room, dragging his feet. Lilith lowered her head and wiped her nose again. She missed her mommy. "How about I put on one of your movies in the living room while we wait for Regina to come back?" Dean suggested.