Bloodline (Supernatural)

37 - A Few More Days in the Bunker

Even though I've passed demon blood detox protocols, I still see Cas. I know he's not real, I know it's my guilt tormenting me. Any time that I have seen him, I never get the opportunity to vent alone—he pops up when someone is nearby and within earshot. I'm sure they'd understand if they saw me talking to a wall, but still. I don't want to give them reason to suspect my detox isn't complete.

I sit in the kitchen, watching my cereal get moist. You'd think I'd have some sort of appetite after what I've been through, but nope. My mind has been too busy to allow me such a luxury.

I sigh heavily, as when I pick my head up, Cas lingers in a corner of the kitchen. Still with the red hole in his chest from where I made the fatal connection. His face holds no menace.

"You waiting for my grand speech of guilt?" I ask hollowly, moving my breakfast contents around with a spoon.

"You've had time to think about it."

"If you're part of me like I think, then you know what I want to say. Just read my mind."

"No, you need to say it."

Another sigh. "How many ways are there to say 'I'm sorry'? I wish I could take it back, had I realized what was really going on. I took you away from Sam and Dean, and you were just trying to help." I leave my spoon in the bowl. "Is there any way to make it right, Cas?"

"If you're asking as to how you can bring me back, I suggest you shut the door on that. You're not experienced enough to go down that path. Your father and uncle might be, but...A lot has changed over their years of hunting. They were without me before, they can be now."

I snort. "Right."

"It's not your fault, Willa. You need to understand that."

"I wielded the blade that killed you. How does that not scream guilty?"

"Hell played a trick on your mind."

"Oh, so my lack of experience is to blame here. I see."

Cas sighs. "How about you just listen, instead of throwing back insults. You couldn't have known."

"Some part of me did. I thought Hell was giving me false hope—that one of you had braved into Hell's depth to come save me." And that was real. "I think this has made me learn one thing: I'm not cut out for this life."

"Not everyone is, even if it's in their blood."

At the sound of approaching footsteps, Cas disappears, surprisingly. The Winchesters enter the kitchen, and Dean gives me a questioning look.

"Aren't you a dry cereal weirdo?" is his greeting to me. He nods towards the bowl in front of me.

I shrug. "I guess Hell rattled my brain too much. I decided to give it a shot."

"And?"

My nose wrinkles. "Nope. Dry cereal for life." I notice one person is missing. "Where's my mom?" I ask.

"She figured to get a head start on going home to tidy up the house when you get there," says Sam.

"She didn't think to say anything to me?"

"She left late last night, after you were asleep. We were to relay the message in case you thought something was wrong."

I nod in understanding. "So, what does that mean for me? That I'm packing what little I've got here and we're hauling to Colorado?"