[AU]
"You can't choose your family."
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Willa Routh never knew her father. Her mother rarely talked about him, and when Willa went asking questions, she got shut down. She never even got a name...
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As predicted, Mom rejoins Sam and me in the kitchen after some time. The comfort food Dean and I brought back helps as a peace offering. Speaking of my uncle, he remains MIA from the kitchen but not from the house. I know he's somewhere, listening.
While Mom is far from happy about my abrupt departure, she accepts that this is better for the both of us, for now. However, she insists that we stay for dinner. She doesn't want me to go just yet, only because there's the unknown factor of how long I will be away once I leave again.
Dinner is a little less awkward, less frosty. Everyone attempts their best at civility, Dean most of all.
Cas must not want to feel like an intruder, because he never shows. Meanwhile, the weather is getting nasty. I fear Mom is a few minutes away from insisting we stay the night. Rain pelts the house from all angles and the wind at times howls fairly loud.
Currently, Mom has pulled out shoeboxes full of pictures of me. Of all the time Sam spent out of the picture. I'm not sure if it's a jab at him or not. The three adults have a respective pile of pictures. I lean forward on occasion to see them.
"Damn, kid, did someone punch your lights out?" asks Dean, flipping me one of my earlier school pictures.
"I had a lot of loose baby teeth then," I say, shrugging. "I wasn't scrappy."
"Oof, and these pigtails."
"What, jealous that I can pull them off?"
"This one's always been my favorite," Mom gushes, showing the three of us. Her and I, Christmas picture. Both dressed in red. I'm considerably younger, no pigtails to be seen. Mom's smile is genuine, mine looks as though she spent time tickling me so I gave a picture-worthy look.
I catch the sad look that fleetingly crosses Sam's face. How much does this hurt him, to see all this pictures without him in them?
The power goes out just as Mom is filing back Dean's latest pile into the box. We all look above, as though something flew into the lights to short them out. The weather sounds even louder now.
"This damn storm," Mom mutters. She, like myself, doesn't like to be in the dark. "I guess it's a call to the electric company." Rising from the table, she steps out of the kitchen, leaving me with Sam and Dean. The brothers look on edge.
"Something smell funky to you?" Dean asks Sam.
"Could be your ungodly BO," I comment as the two slowly rise from their seats.
"Not now, Wills. Besides, we shower."
"Yeah, when I see you at the bunker. I can't account for all the times you're on the road."
Somewhere in the house, Mom is on the phone with the electric company. A loud boom sends the house shaking. A brief strike of lightning gives us just enough light.
