Author's note: I don't own anything having to do with Supernatural only Abigail, Emma and Christian belong to me.
This chapter was co-written by the AMAZING xoloveJBox, so get out your tissues and remember to give kudos to her in your reviews!
"Momma, when's daddy coming home?" Emma repeated when I hadn't answered her.
This was one conversation I wish I could have avoided at all costs. I could see Dean and Sam watching me carefully probably trying to decide if they should say something or not but this was something I had to do no matter how much it killed me to do it.
"He isn't," I said very softly as Dean put the piece of paper tape on my wrist to hold the bandage on. My voice cracked slightly and threatened to break, so I cleared my throat in hopes of holding it together just a little longer.
"Ok," she shrugged and went back to watching her movie, blissfully unaware that anything was different.
I didn't want to correct her, I didn't want to be the one who broke her heart into a million pieces but it felt wrong lying to her, like somehow I was lying to Christian. I tried to collect my thoughts and push all of my emotions as far down as I could knowing I needed to be strong, for Emma and myself.
"Emma Deanne, I need to talk to you," I said as I walked over to where she was and sat next to her.
"Look momma, that mean lion just killed Simba's daddy," she pouted pointing to the television, "he doesn't have a daddy anymore, what's he going to do?"
With trembling fingers I took the remote off the bed and turned the television off trying, desperately to avoid the gazes of both brothers. I heard Sam sniff as if trying to hold in his own tears and Dean was about to try and take over but I put my hand up to stop him.
"I think he's going to be just fine because he has his whole family that's going to be watching after him," I started, trying to sound assuring like I knew what I was doing. Truth was, I'd never been so scared in my life and this wasn't something that salt or silver or holy water could keep at bay.
"But what about his daddy?" she asked and I realized I was just confusing her more.
I got off the bed and kneeled in front of her holding onto the side of the bed so I wouldn't fall over, "Honey, I need to talk to you about your daddy."
"He's working again, isn't he?" she asked with a little disappointment in her voice. I knew she missed him when he left to go on hunts and now I had to be the one to tell her that she would never see him again.
"No, he's not. Emma, daddy went up to heaven tonight to be with the angels," I said and could feel the tears threatening to fall from my eyes so I slightly lifted my head and blinked a few times to keep them in.
"When's he coming back?" she questioned turning her head to the side like a lost puppy.
"He's not baby," I said softly trying to get her to understand something that I wasn't even sure if I completely understood.
"Was I a bad girl?"
I couldn't take it anymore, I knew she wasn't saying these things to hurt me but looking into her innocent eyes…Christian's eyes, I just couldn't do it anymore and I took her face in my hands so I had her full attention.
"You are a very, very good girl and daddy wanted you to know that he loves you very much," I said but had to stop to keep the tears in again, so I forced the biggest smile I could muster onto my face, "Now why don't you get dressed and Uncle Dean and Uncle Sam are going to take you out for breakfast…I even think they said something about you getting chocolate milk and the biggest plate of French toast you can eat."
"Really?" she asked excitedly looking over to Dean and Sam.
"Sure thing, kid," Dean nodded though a forced smile.
"Ok," she said getting off the bed and walking over to Sam who was pulling clean clothes out of the bag I had packed for her.
I didn't move from my spot as I gripped the comforter in my hands and took a few deep breaths before finally standing up. I could feel Dean watching me like I was about to shatter and fall apart at any minute but I couldn't. I needed to be strong for Emma, I wanted desperately not to be the one Dad and Sam pitied because they had been through the same thing and I wanted revenge on the demon that took my Christian away from me but mostly I was terrified, terrified that the demon was going after Emma that night and that he would try again to take her away from me. There was a small part, a little sister part, of me that wanted Dean to take me in his arms and make it all better like he used to when I had a bad dream but somehow I didn't think it was going to help this time.
Sam, Dean and Emma were all in the room, Dad wasn't far away, but I felt totally alone and like the room was getting smaller by the minute, I was suffocating. I knew that Sam and Dad had experienced the same thing, losing their other halves, but I'd lost my better half. Christian had been my everything. He'd given me my child. Without him, I would have never left 'the business' and I might have already been dead. I couldn't wrap my head around what had happened. It felt like a bad dream, and I prayed harder than I ever had that soon I would wake up, that this would be over and I'd laugh at the absurdity of it all. It didn't make sense that there were so many things I'd never have again.
I'd never wake up to the smell of coffee, because Christian was a stupidly early riser. I'd never hear him call me cute nicknames that got weirder every time, that he seemed to make up on the spot. He'd never play with my hair, or snore too loud, or wrap his arm around me in the middle of the night giving me a sense of security. He wouldn't see Emma's first day of school, or threaten to shoot her prom date, or see her graduate. He wouldn't walk her down the aisle. I'd never hear the two of them giggling together over a secret I wasn't a part of. Emma would never need to sneak in, in the middle of the night because she missed curfew and daddy would be mad as hell.
Looking at Emma, she looked more like Christian than ever. It was scary really, they shared the same eyes, her hair had the same flick, and they both had the same look of sheer concentration and dedication etched on their faces with whatever they did, no matter how small or inconsequential. In fact, they were so similar that you wouldn't even know she had any Winchester in her at all if it wasn't for that smirk that came across her face when she was about to do something she wasn't supposed to.
"You should probably change too," Sam suggested, pulling me out of my thoughts, motioning to the blood I had on my shirt, Christian's blood.
"I'm not going with you," I said folding my arms over my stomach trying to hide the stains.
"You need to eat something," Dean said speaking up and I could tell the over-protective brother mode had kicked in.
"Then bring me back something," I replied looking into his eyes hoping he would just leave it alone, leave me alone, because seriously I wasn't in the mood. "Please," I pleaded softly, hoping that Sammy would understand better than anyone, "I just need some time."
"We're only a phone call away," Sam said stepping forward to give me a hug goodbye but I took a step back knowing I wouldn't be able to keep my wall up.
"Please, just go," I whispered putting the back of my hand up to my mouth and swallowing the lump that had started to grow in my throat.
"Uncle Dean, can I really get chocolate milk?" Emma questioned innocently, tugging at the bottom of his leather jacket. She still seemed totally oblivious to what was going on, and I never thought there'd be a day that I envied my four year old.
"You can have anything you want," he said as he lifted her into his arms and turned to look at me again, "Are you sure you want to stay here?"
I just nodded in response not trusting my voice not to crack and they finally left. The moment they were far enough away so I couldn't hear the Impala's engine anymore I felt like I could breathe again. Sam was right though, I should change out of the clothes I had been wearing. I went through all the movements of taking a shower and putting clean clothes on almost robotically. It was when I went to brush my hair out that I looked at myself in the mirror. Besides the bandages on my wrists from where the rope had cut into them, I had a bump on the side of my head from getting knocked out and a bruise in the shape of a handprint was forming on my neck. I had been luckily and I hated myself for it, I should have fought harder, I should have never been caught, I should have picked the right warehouse and not wasted precious time.
I walked out of the bathroom and took out the bottle of whiskey I knew Dean always kept in his duffle. There was nothing more that I wanted than to make myself numb to the pain that was tearing at my heart. I sat down on the bed and rolled the cool bottle in between my hands before taking the top off. I raised the bottle but before the comforting liquid could touch my lips I saw Emma's hairclip sitting on the dresser and I was reminded of how she would need me to be strong.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when the lock on the door clicked open and my dad walked into the room, apparently at some point in time Sam or Dean had given him a key.
"Where's Emma?" Dad asked looking around the empty room.
"Diner," I replied simply as he came over and took the bottle out of my hands.
"There's something we need to talk about Abby since she isn't here," he started as he pulled out two glasses and filled them half way. Firm and efficient, business as usual. I didn't answer so he continued, "We need to figure out what you are going to tell people, you guys were too involved with the community for you to just disappear without questions being raised."
I nodded not sure of what to say and he handed me my drink. I honestly couldn't have cared less at that moment, but it was easier to nod and pretend that I was interested than to let myself feel anything. I took the glass in my hand and swirled the liquid around still half-heartedly trying to convince myself not to drink it.
"You know we usually have to salt and burn the body," Dad started again but I cut him off.
"Christian, Dad, it's my Chris not a body," I said sharply, biting the side of my cheek to keep the tears in. Dad didn't seem to understand that, I mean with mom and Jessica there was nothing left after the fire.
"I know which is why I was going to suggest having him cremated, and have the ashes put in a coffin so we could have a proper military funeral," he explained softly. It took a few seconds for my brain to register what he was saying, but when it did, I dragged my eyes from the dirty motel carpet and blinked up at my Dad, half surprised that he'd had time to think of a plan, and half relieved that he had, "He may not have died fighting for our country but he died protecting my girls and that deserves a hero's goodbye. I know a few people that I can call and set everything up so you won't have to worry about it, if that's what you want," he offered gently. Dad and I had never exactly seen eye-to-eye on certain things, but in that moment I'd never felt closer to him, and it was the closest thing to what I actually wanted that I was going to be allowed.
I knew that's what Christian would have wanted but I kept getting stuck on words like cremated…coffin…died.
"Set it up," I told him stoically, raising the glass to my lips dejectedly and giving in to the need for comfort.