The Hunter's Girl (Dean Winchester Fan Fiction)

Chapter Nine: Roses For A Loving Mother

It’s been a week since I got the call about my dad dying. Becka didn’t make me go to school, which was nice of her. Although, she seems to think that I may have an emotional break down because of grief. Honestly, I have no doubt that that won’t happen. It may be strange, but I’m not hurting. I don’t feel so sad any more. I just hate that he’s gone. I think that he wouldn’t want me to sit around and sulk over him. He would want me to move on and keep fighting. He really was a true soldier, from beginning to the end.

In the time that I was out of school, Dean would stop by after school. We would hang out for a while before he had to go, but then he’d call me later to say goodnight. I could tell that he was worried about me, even if he wouldn’t say it. It felt nice to have someone who was genuinely worried about me for once. Becka, bless her heart, is probably the best sister I could ever ask for and worries constantly about me. But, her worry was more just because she was my sister. Because it’s her responsibility to look after and worry about me, now more than ever.

I leaned against the wall of my old tree house and sighed. The view from up here was amazing; a huge forest going back for miles. Evergreen trees stretched back as far as I could see. My tree house was my favorite place to go. It was at least twenty years old, but it still looked like it did when it was build. Everything, from the shingles on the roof to the white carpet on the inside, had been kept in good condition by me for the last few years. It was my hideaway, so I had to keep it as perfect as possible.

I slumped down against the wall and sat on the floor. Reaching over, I pulled a small metal box onto my lap and opened it. The box contained any pictures I’ve found in the house or taken myself. I rummaged through it gently, careful not to bend any pictures. After a bit of searching, I found the picture I wanted to use as a drawing prompt.

My mom and dad smiled up at me from the paper, frozen in time. They stood out in the snow, hugging each other. Their clothes and hats were dusted with white snow. The photo was taken soon after they got married. I smiled at it and closed the box. Then, I opened my sketch book and began drawing. My pencil danced across the page, first making guidelines, then drawing in the details. I messed up a few times and crumpled the page, throwing it to the other side of the tree house.

I started drawing again and got a little farther than the first time, but then I messed up yet again. I frustrated crumpled it up and tossed it over to the other paper ball. I wanted it to be perfect. No, I needed it to be perfect. They deserved that much. I drew it again. And again. And again.

After repeating this process for at least two hours, I found myself surrounded by small mountains of paper balls. I sighed and looked up at the ceiling. I put my hands over my face. Why did this whole ordeal frustrate me so much? I couldn’t tell you even if my life depended on it.

I made the decision to get up and go somewhere when the door on the floor of the tree house began to lift. I jumped, startled.

“Kim? You up here?” a voice called. I sighed, relaxing. It was only Dean.

“How’d you find me, Winchester?”

“Your sister told me that you usually come out here during the day, so I figured I would check here,” he said with a shrug. He clambered into the small room and closed the trap door. After getting a better look at all of the paper balls scattering the floor, he gave me a questioning look.

“What are all of these?”

“Failed drawings.” I frowned.                  

He uncrumpled one paper and looked at it before looking back to me. “Failed? These are pretty damn good, if you ask me.”

“Well, they aren’t perfect. They don’t look the way they should,” I huffed.