Bloodline (Supernatural)

37 - A Few More Days in the Bunker

"Not right this second."

"She wants a few days," Dean adds. "So until then, you're here with us."

I want to be happy with this, truly. But recent events are still fresh in my mind. And even though the Winchesters have assured me they don't fault me for Cas's murder, I'm still not convinced. I feel like they have a grudge against me for it, they just won't say it.

* * *

Counting today, I'm in the bunker for three more days.

Since I'm still grappling with shame, I've kept my distance from Sam and Dean. If they engage in conversation, I try to make it short. I've holed myself up in my room, enjoying solitude. Yeah, weird, right? After my Hell tour, you'd think I'd want to be near people.

That's not necessarily true.

I'm in bed, eyes closed, having the TV as background noise. I'm not quite sure what I'm attempting here. I think I want a quiet mind.

That's interrupted by a knock on the door.

"It's open," I say, opening my eyes.

The Winchesters let themselves in, and Dean starts searching the selection of board games that were put into my room for my detox. I sit up, watching him curiously. He selects a few, stops when he realizes I'm watching him.

"Up you go, Wills," he tells me, shuffling the boxes so they don't fly open and pieces fall out. "It's game night."

"What's the occasion?"

"Nothing in particular. Sam and I already took care of food. All we need are the games and you. Come on."

Now a little wary, I shuffle off the bed, following them out into the bunker. They've cleared the tables in the library. Research is replaced with food and drinks. I get first choice, so I settle for The Game of Life.

I assist in directing the Winchesters in the setup, as they've never even heard of this game. Once things get rolling, I'm amused as how excited they get.

"You know this game isn't supposed to be, like, cut-throat competitive, right?" I remind them. "Just enjoy the experience."

Sam and I both choose the college path, to which Dean chooses career.

"Nerds," Dean teases us.

We make our rounds of turns. Graduate from college. Pick careers. Get married. Get houses. The flow of the game is nice. And both Winchesters get really into the imaginary life they're building. Giving their wives and kids names.

"Your husband better treat you and the kids right," Sam teases me. "Or he's gotta contend with me."

"And me," Dean chimes in.

I laugh. A sound that almost seems forgotten.

In the end, Dean comes out victorious. That earns him the right to choose the next game. Sorry.

"You excited to be going home, kid?" Dean asks as Sam draws a card. He moves his green pawn the amount of spaces, nearing my yellow one.

"Of course," I say, taking my turn. "If you want to keep these games here, that's fine. I think we have Sorry at the house."

The two exchange looks.

"What?"

"Well," Dean starts, drawing a card. He moves his blue pawn—it's close to his area's safe zone. "We're still figuring out our retirement plan. I don't think it involves the bunker. It's brought us memories and knowledge, sure, but that was for the hunting life. Since we're getting out of that...well..."

"It doesn't mean it'll be abandoned," Sam tells me. "We're looking to see if any hunters want to bunk here and take over operations."

"Smart," I say, picking up a card. I smirk, landing next to one of Dean's pawns, bumping it off the board.

"Not cool!" he protests, grumpily putting it back to his start area.

"Not sorry," I snicker.

In a squeak of a victory, I come out the winner. Dean demands a rematch, or two. Sam and I oblige.

**The Winchester family game night was one of my last scenes that I wrote before the book was fully completed. I had to sprinkle in some happiness, all things considered.**