Title: Birthday, Burned
Author: AtticusFinchFan
Warning: None
Pairing: None
Author note: Futurefic
Summary: She was just like her old man.
Disclaimer: Dean and the Metallicar are property of Kripke, I just borrowed them for a bit. Marney is mine though. UnBetaed


On Dean's 52nd birthday he got a call from Stanford University Medical Centre telling him that his 19 year old had been admitted to Emergency a few minutes ago suffering from 2nd degree burns on her hands and panicked. He slammed on the ancient Impalas brakes, going from 60 MPH to 0 in a matter of seconds, before doing a complete 360 and slamming on the gas as soon as the car was facing the other way. He made the almost 4 and half hour trip from South Lake Tahoe-Palo Alto in under 3 and nearly slammed into a back of a idling ambulance in his haste to get inside. In his panic induced haze he didn't notice or down right care how he made it to the nurse's station, but as soon as he did and found out where Marney was he was off like a literal bat out of hell.

He nearly missed Marney's room as he sped down the hallway like a mad man on a mission; he skidded to a halt just seconds after passing it and doubled back quickly to look inside. He seen his daughter from the hall, sitting on the edge of the bed, kicking her feet every so slightly and staring down at her bandaged hands dejectedly. As soon as he scanned her once or twice to look for any other sign that things were amiss and found nothing, his anger spiked and he stomped into the room and whipped back the candy striped curtain.

"I could throttle you!" he exploded.

Marney didn't even look up. "Yeah," she breathed through her nose. "I'd probably deserve it."

"What the hell were you thinking?"

Silenced reined for a while as Dean's anger simmered and Marney's dejection grew. Finally she raised her head and stared into her ferocious hazel eyes and her shoulders drooped. "I was trying to make you a cake." She said that and all the anger dropped from his body faster than his clothes use to disappear when he was younger and about to do it. He wanted to let her finish before he tried to dig himself from the hole he had dug for himself. "I knew it'd be late but at least I'd still have something for you when Uncle Sam and I got to your place next week. It's the only thing I can afford right now."

It didn't take a genius to know just how much pain she was in. You could tell just by the way her voice shook with every syllable uttered. It took all Dean had to not envelope his daughter into his arms and hold her tight just long enough for all her wounds to heal and him to apologize…profusely.

Dean finally allowed himself to look at his daughter's hands, covered in layers and layers of cotton and gauze, and was surprised to find himself smiling. This reinforced what he had believed for most of Marney's young life.

She was just like her old man.

Marney let a shaky breath free as her head dropped along with her voice. "Happy Birthday, dad."