#the way my l ife crashed and burn so quickly

[sunsetcowboy]

.

[wegoddessofhell]

We Don’t Always Get What We Want

Summary: Sam dies, and Dean and his daughter have very different ways of dealing with the grief.

Pairings: Dean x daughter, Sam x niece in memories?

Word Count: 3792

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death, mention of underage drinking, some swears (2? 3?) and then some fluff?

Author’s Note: This fic was written for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing’s SPN Beautiful Word’s Challenge. Not gonna lie, I bawled my eyes out writing this, but it was also so much fun! The word I picked was Chrysalism, and I think it turned out well! I hope you guys enjoy, and if you wanna give me some feedback, I wouldn’t be opposed to it!

Dean’s felt pain before.

He felt it when his dad died.  He felt it when Bobby died. He felt it when Charlie died.

He has never felt a pain like this.

He swings another bunch of logs over his shoulder, dropping them onto the growing pile of wood. He managed to find a quiet, private beach, perfect to burn a body on. He stares at the pile of logs for a long moment, before he shifts his eyes to the car where his daughter was, refusing to leave. Through the darkness of the night,  he can see her in the front seat, her knees tucked to her chest, her head resting on the window. He swallows hard, looking down at the bagged body on the ground. He lifts the body up, struggling slightly as his brother was bigger than him, laying him down ever so gently.

Sam was dead.

Dean blinks away the tears as best he can, grabbing the salt he had brought from the car. He looks at it in his hand, realizing he was slightly shaky. He sprinkles it over his brother’s lifeless, bagged body, before he drops the salt to the ground, not caring if it was spilling everywhere.

“I’m so sorry, Sammy,” Dean whispers, not being able to contain the tears anymore. “I had one job in this world, and I screwed it up. I let you die and-” Dean has to pause, bringing his hand up to his face to wipe the tears away quickly. “I messed up, Sammy. I’m gonna carry this weight for the rest of my fucking life. I’m so sorry I let this happen to you.” He reaches to the ground, picking up the gasoline jug, squirting it all over the black sack. Setting it down, he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a matchbox. He takes a single match out, striking it as he watches the flame burn. In a quick motion, he throws it onto the mound, letting the tears from his eyes carelessly fall. “I’m gonna miss you, little brother.”

Sera shifts her eyes to her dad, watching as he drops the match onto the pile of wood that was holding her uncle Sammy up. The same uncle Sammy that had taught her the alphabet when she was in preschool. The same uncle Sammy that helped her with all of her homework. The same uncle Sammy that was there for her in all the times her dad couldn’t be. The same uncle Sammy who was killed by a demon. A fire erupts on the  beach, close to the Impala, as Sera shuts her eyes briefly. How could her dad just give up like that? How could he just his burn his brothers bones, ensuring the fact that there was no way he could come back. She shakes her head, before she opens her eyes, pushing the Impala door open. She needed to say her goodbyes to her uncle. Dad be damned, I owe it to uncle Sammy. She holds the blanket she was wrapped in around her shoulders, as she walks towards her dad and the fire.

“When will Daddy be home?” a 5 year old Sera asks, sitting next to her uncle on the couch.

“What, am I not good enough for you?” Sam teases, poking his nieces side. “He’ll be back on Monday, he’s only gone for the weekend.”

Sera nods, shifting her eyes back to the kids movie that was playing on the tv. “Uncle Sammy?”

“Yes monkey?”

“Would you still like me if I had 3 eyes?” Sera asks, looking up at her uncle.

He chuckles softly, pulling her closer to his side. “I would still love you if you had 3 eyes.”

“What if I had blue skin?!”

“I would still love you if you had blue skin.”

“If I was-,” she starts, before Sam cuts her off.

“Where are all these questions coming from?” he asks her, watching as she shrugs slightly. “I’ll always love you, kiddo. Even when you’re big and think you’re cooler than me, even when we get in fights, even when you say you hate me, I’ll always love you.”

Sera smiles, leaning her head back on her uncles side. “I’ll always love you too, uncle Sammy.” Sam smiles, leaning down as he presses a kiss to the top of her head.

She pushes the memory away, fighting back the tears. When she reaches the fire she stops next to her dad, looking at him quickly, the fire illuminating his face just enough that she could see the tear stains on his cheeks. Neither of them speak, the only sounds filling the night air being the waves rolling and crashing onto the shore, and the crackling of the wood in the fire. Sera can feel tears forming in her own eyes, as she looks back at the black body bag that held her uncle, her partner in crime, and one of her favourite people. “You should’ve tried harder,” Sera manages through teary eyes, breaking the tense but peaceful silence.

“What?” Dean asks, looking over at his 17 year old daughter. “You should’ve tried harder,” Sera repeats, her jaw clenched now, tears streaming down her face. “You gave up. You just stopped trying.” “Sweetheart, I tried everything,” Dean tells his daughter, almost offended that she thought he wouldn’t. “I contacted every angel I could, I tried to sell my soul again, I looked into faith healers and black magic and everything in between, but there was nothing. I couldn’t- I couldn’t do anything.” “S-so you give up?” Sera asks, attempting to control her sobs. “Dad, you’ve told me my entire l-ife that you don’t give up on people you l-love. How was it so e-asy for you to give up on uncle Sam?”

“Easy?” Dean demands, watching her. “You think this was easy for me? I’ve spent my entire life trying to protect him. That’s what I’ve done since I was 4 years old. My entire being was built around him being safe. So no, Sera, giving up wasn’t easy, but there was no way in hell I was letting Sam turn into a vengeful spirit. You and I both know that he wouldn’t want that.”

Sera stares into the fire, before she speaks. “You should’ve tried harder.” With that, she turns and walks away, heading back to the Impala. Dean watches her leave, before he looks back at his brother. Silence ensues again, only the sounds of the wood snapping and the waves crashing heard.

---

It had been about a week since Sam had been gone, and things around the bunker hadn’t been the same. Sera and Dean had gone the entire week, not saying anything more than a “hi” or “hello” when passing each other.

Dean feels as if he’s lost his daughter. They’ve always been close, but right now he’s never felt more distant from her. He knows that right now they need each other more than anything, but with both of them being so hard-headed, neither of them were willing to take the first step to fix things.

Dean was done with not doing anything.

He takes a deep breath, standing outside his daughter’s bedroom in the hallway. Sera didn’t leave her room other than to get food, go to the bathroom, or go for a drive. She did her best to avoid her dad, or so Dean thought. He knocks on her door lightly, calling out to her. “Sweetheart, you in there?” “I’m here,” Sera answers from behind the closed door. “What do you want?” “Can I come in?” Dean asks her, not moving to open the door until she allows him. “No.”

Dean sighs, resting his forehead on her bedroom door, his voice soft. “Baby girl, please. We’ve gotta talk about this.”

“No we don’t.”

Dean hates this more than anything. He hates how his daughter is pushing him away. “It’s been a week, kiddo. I miss you, please don’t shut me out.”

“I’m busy, maybe later,” Sera states, and Dean can tell she’s done with this conversation. He steps back from her door, nodding slightly even though she can’t see him. “Okay, I uh- I guess I’ll be around if you want to talk.”

---

It had been two weeks now, and Dean was beyond glad that Sera was doing things out of her room more and more. She would eat her meals in the kitchen. She’d do some reading in the library. She’d spend some free time in the war room.

But with that came the going out more with her friends, which of  course, Dean was still happy about. He was glad his daughter was feeling better and was willing to do more, but he wasn’t quite happy with the activities that she was partaking in.

Dean checks his watch, rubbing his face afterwards. It was 2:30am, and Sera hadn’t come home yet. Recently, she had been staying out later and later, and Dean was concerned for her safety. She wouldn’t check in with him, wouldn’t answer his phone calls, wouldn’t interact with him at all.

He’s torn from his thoughts when the bunker door slams. From his seat in the war room, he shifts his eyes up to the top of the staircase, seeing his daughter stumbling inside. “Sera? Are you okay?” “I’m better than ever, daddy-o,” she slurs, smiling down at him. Dean gets up, walking to the bottom of the stairs as Sera descends them, gripping onto the railing as she walks. “Y’know, it’s amazing what some alcohol can do for you.” “Have you been drinking?” Dean asks, his eyes meeting his daughters when she reaches the bottom.

“Pfft, no dad. Have you been drinking?” “Don’t lie to me,” Dean threatens, not taking his eyes off of her. “You smell like alcohol. You’re drunk.” “I swear to drunk I am not God,” Sera slurs, giggling as she looks at her dad. “I feel all floaty right now.” Dean’s mad. He’s more than mad. He is beyond pissed. All of his being wants to yell at her, to tell her that this kind of behaviour, the underage drinking, the curfew breaking, that all of this is unacceptable. But he un-clenches his fists instead, bringing his hands to set them on the sides of his daughter’s face. He leans in and plants a kiss on her forehead. “It’s okay.” For a moment, she stands there, letting him interact with her for more than a second at a time. Sera all of a sudden pushes him back, stumbling slightly herself.

“Go away!” she exclaims, steadying herself on the railing. “Don’t- don’t touch me!”

Dean’s hands fall to his sides, his heart breaking slightly as he watches her. “Sweetheart, come on. This isn’t you. The drinking and the curfew breaking, this isn’t you. I need you back. I need my real Sera back.” Sera chuckles, blowing a dramatic breath out of her mouth. “Yeah? Well I need my dead uncle back, but we don’t always get what we want, do we?” Dean looks at her, his jaw dropping slightly at his daughter’s outburst, before he watches her turn and head towards her bedroom.

---

It had been a month now, and there was still no change between Dean and his daughter. They still weren’t talking normally to each other, Sera was still rebelling, and Dean has had about all he can take. He walks outside of the bunker, knowing exactly where his daughter would be. He sees his daughter in Sam’s BMW. He looks up at the sky, almost as a silent plea, acknowledging how dark and gloomy it was outside.

He saunters over to the car, noticing how his daughter was sitting. She had her knees tucked up to her chest, her chin resting on them. She was staring straight ahead, probably lost in thought. Dean knocks on the passenger side window after trying the door, which was locked. She shifts her eyes to to him, not moving to do anything.

“Unlock it,” Sera can hear her dad say, as she rolls her eyes, pressing the unlock button on the door. Dean gets in, looking over at her. “I’ve had about as much as I can take, kiddo.” “That’s nice,” Sera tells him, looking straight ahead again.

“That’s all your gonna say? Aren’t you tired of this?”

Sera swallows hard, shrugging slightly. “A little, I guess.”

Dean shifts his eyes to her, staying quiet as he observes. She looks exhausted, the bags under her eyes darker than ever. Her eyes are red, and Dean can tell she’s been crying. “Sweetheart,” he whispers, trying to start a conversation. Before he can continue, she breaks down, sobbing into her hands. “Hey hey hey,” he tries, pulling her towards him.

“Don’t!” she screams. These were more than tears of sadness. These were tears of anger. She pushes him back, opening the car door, slamming it after she gets out. Dean gets out quickly, rounding the car so he was standing across from her.

The skies had opened up, rain pouring down around the both of them, thunder heard out in the distance. “Come here,” Dean says softly, opening his arms for her. If it were up to him, she’d have accepted his hug, and they’d work things out. But it wasn’t up to him.

Sera shakes her head, feeling the anger build inside her. “This is your fault!” she shouts, not bothering to stop her tears. “You’re the reason I’m like this!” Dean watches his daughter lash out, shaking his head slowly. “It is! Uncle Sam is dead because of you! Because you gave up on him!”

Dean watches his daughter barrel towards him, her fists out. She slams into him, pounding her fists into his chest. Her attacks were random, and Dean knew they weren’t meant to hurt him. They were mindless in a sense, not meant to harm or disable him. They didn’t hurt, he was a lot stronger than his daughter. So he stands there, letting his teenager attack him. “Why aren’t you fighting back?!” she sobs, not giving up.

“I’m not going to fight you, sweetheart,” Dean tells her, watching as she pauses for a moment to look at him.

Sera glares at her dad through teary eyes, before she starts to pound on his chest again, pushing him back slightly. “Fight back! Fight me back!”

“No,” Dean replies calmly. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

“F-fight me b-back!” she repeats over and over again, not giving up the relentless attacks on her dad.

“You can blame me all you want, kiddo. You can hit me and you can yell at me, and that’s okay. If it makes you feel better, do it. If this is how you want to work things out, I’m all for it. But I’m not going to fight back.”

Through Dean’s speech, he almost misses the fist that was coming straight for his jaw. He quickly catches his daughters wrist with his left hand, twisting it up behind her back. He was gentle, making sure he wasn’t hurting her, just making it uncomfortable. He grunts when his daughters foot connects with his shin, before he uses his foot to softly kick out Sera’s feet from beneath her. She falls to the ground, with nowhere to go. Her right arm still twisted up behind her back, her left pinned underneath of her body. Dean kneels down next to his daughter, using his own leg to keep the two of hers pinned.

“Are you done?” Dean asks softly, kneeling next to her. He feels his daughters tense body beneath him relax, and he knew that was the moment Sera had given up. He looks at his daughters form, it was pathetic almost. Not in the bad sense, but in the sense that this was how she wanted to deal with her emotions. He meets her one green eye that peeking out through the mess of wet, blonde hair. Her face was covered in wet gravel, her jeans ripped from falling. He lets go of her arm, sitting back on the ground. He bends his knees, resting his forearms on them.

“You used to talk to me, kiddo. We used to never go to bed angry with each other. You’ve barely said a word to me this past month,” Dean sighs, watching Sera. She hadn’t moved from the position she had fallen into, her right arm still just hanging behind her back. “I don’t know what you want from me, baby girl. I’m trying here, I’m really trying.” Dean looks up at the sky, letting the rain fall onto his face, his eyes closed. “I don’t know about you, but I’m tired, Sera. I’m tired of the fighting and the anger. I’m tired of you bottling everything up inside until you explode.” He stays quiet for a moment, trying to see if Sera would take over, but she doesn’t. “I don’t know what to do anymore,” Dean sighs. Suddenly, Sera’s reacting. She moves slightly, bringing her arms over to her face, as if she’s trying shield herself from him. “I miss him,” she says in a whisper so quiet that Dean almost misses it. He can feel his heart break. She’s miserable, she’s destroyed. When she breaks, intense sobs escape her, tears streaming down her face. Like lightning, Dean is over beside her, sitting next to her. He pulls her into his lap, cradling her. To others it may look strange, Sera wasn’t a little girl anymore,  but Dean didn’t care, knowing all his daughter needed was comfort right now. He holds her close, using his body as best as he can to shield his daughter from the pouring rain. “I m-miss him s-so m-much,” she continues to sob, Dean holding her tight.

Dean presses his lips against her wet, blonde hair, before he speaks. “I know, baby girl. I miss him too.”

“H-he’s g-g-gone,” she sobs, her arms wrapped around Dean.

“I know,” Dean whispers, not releasing her. “I know he is.” There’s silence now, the only sounds heard being the rain pounding onto the ground, and Sera’s sobs. She’s clutching to her father as if he’s keeping her alive, because in this moment, maybe he was.

It had taken almost 5 minutes of Dean whispering words of comfort and rocking his daughter back and forth before Sera begins to calm down. These motions bring Dean back to a memory, as he presses his lips against his daughter’s head.

Dean groans, trying to calm is wailing daughter. “Shh, it’s okay, sweetheart.” He bounces Sera gently, trying to soothe her. “You’re not hungry, you’ve got a clean diaper, what else do you need?” Dean turns when he hears his brother enter the nursery.

“She’s still not sleeping?” Sam asks, speaking loudly so Dean can hear him over the baby.

“Clearly,” Dean mumbles. “I don’t know what she needs.” “Lemme try?” Sam suggests, walking into the room more.

Dean nods, passing the baby over. “Be my guest.”

Sam takes his niece in his arms, carefully getting her situated. “Hey monkey,” he smiles, speaking softly. “Shh, shh, shh,” he tries, rocking her back and forth slowly. “You’re okay, I’ve got you. What’s wrong, huh?”

Dean backs up, leaning against the wall as he watches his little brother interact with his daughter. “Y’know, kiddo, your dad’s pretty tired. I’m sure you’re tired too. Being a baby is hard work,” Sam chuckles softly, realizing that Sera’s sobs from before had turned into quiet cries. “You don’t have to worry about a thing, monkey. You’ve got me, and you’ve got your dad, and we’ve got you. We’ll always have you, I promise. Even when you get older and don’t want us to, we’ll always have you.” Sam’s slightly surprised when he looks down at his niece, her eyes now shut, and silence in the room. He walks over to her crib, gently laying her down before he covers her with a blanket. “Sweet dreams.” He turns, greeted by his brother who had a huge smirk on his face. Sam rolls his eyes, leaving the nursery.

“Who new the moose could also be a baby whisper?” Dean asks, raising his eyebrows in a teasing manner, “Shut up,” Sam chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re just jealous that I got her to sleep.”

“No- I- whatever, bitch,” Dean mutters, brushing past his brother. “Jerk!” Sam calls after him, smiling slightly.

Dean’s drawn from his thoughts by a loud clap of thunder, feeling his daughter flinch slightly, still gripping onto her dad. “You’re shivering, baby girl. Let’s move inside out of the thunderstorm, okay?” He can feel Sera pull away from him, as she stands up. “Get a shower, we’ll talk after?” he asks. She nods, turning as she walks inside the bunker. Dean sits there for a moment, watching her leave, before he stands up himself, following her inside.

Sera walks out of her bedroom, dressed in some sweatpants and a shirt, her hair wet from her shower. She walks into the war room, looking around. “Dad?” she calls, walking into the kitchen now. “Where are you?” She shrugs, heading to the bunker stairs, taking them two at a time. She yanks the door open, noticing her dad leaning against the Impala, his arms crossed, looking up at the sky. The thunderstorm had ceased, as Sera slides her shoes on, shuffling outside.

“Hey,” Sera greets her dad, leaning next to him on the Impala.

“Weird weather, huh?” Dean asks, as he sees Sera nod next to him from his peripheral vision.

“Dad,” Sera starts, as Dean shifts his eyes to her. “I’m sorry I blamed you for uncle Sammy dying. I’m sorry for hitting you and blocking you out, I-”

Dean cuts her off, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer to him. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I forgive you, and I’m sorry too.” She leans her head on her dad’s shoulder, Dean leaning down and planting a kiss on her head. “But the drinking, the curfew breaking, the sneaking out- it’s all gotta stop, you understand me?”

“You knew about the sneaking out? How?” Sera asks, sitting up as she looks at her dad, her green eyes meeting his. Dean smirks, placing his hand on the side of his daughter’s face. “I’m your dad, I know everything.”

Sera laughs, looking down briefly, before she looks back up. She’s met by her dad’s soft eyes, a gentle smile on his face.

Dean’s felt peace before.

He felt it after burning his dads bones. He felt it after burning Bobby’s bones. He felt it after burning Charlie’s bones.

He’s never felt peace like this. Peace with the fact Sam was dead. Peace with his daughter. 

Peace with himself.