It was hard for Dean being back in the house. He hadn't been back there since that night it all happened, or technically since that morning after they all left and took her with them, although it wasn't her, only what was left of her. It had started at night and ended in the morning.
The decision had been long under way inside her head, he had always known that, but he had also believed that he could change it. He really thought that if he just loved her hard enough, and he did love her more than anything else, that his love could change it all. It had to. Only it didn't.
He could hear Roman's feet move from room to room somewhere further up. He had been a true friend in Dean's life. He had come storming the second Dean had called that morning. He had taken Dean home with him after everyone left. He had let Dean stay with him right up till now where Dean finally had found an apartment. A crappy one compared to this three floor house he had bought back in the days. Back then he thought taking her out here with no neighbours, just the two of them, could help her get better. A decision he now regretted more than anything. If he hadn't bought a house with three floors, a house that tall, she could still be here. She would still be here.
He held his breath as he stopped in front of the spot where it all had ended. Even though it had been cleaned, undoubtedly Roman once again making sure to get someone out here to clean, he knew exactly where she had been. He had found her there.
He blew out his breath as he moved towards the stairs. He moved up, all the way to the top. Why on earth had he insisted to put their bedroom on top? Back then it had seemed romantic how they could overlook most of the forest from their bedroom window. He had loved standing there with his arms around her and his head leaned down on her shoulder, just watching the sun rise or go down, feeling her up against him. Everything seemed so easy in those moments.
He finally reached the top and heard Roman again. He was going through every room to make sure nothing important was left behind. The furniture didn't matter. All that stuff meant nothing to Dean. They were just empty things, dead things. He didn't like anything to feel dead. Roman had come here several times, packing up what he thought Dean might want in his new little apartment, just having everything in boxes ready to be moved when the time came. All the boxes were out in a trailer behind Roman's car and Roman was only doing one last check up before they left the house for good. Dean was supposed to wait in the car but he couldn't. He had to see it one last time, to connect with her somehow, to try and understand why she did it.
He moved a few steps forward to where it all had begun. He placed his hands on the railling and looked down. He wondered what had gone through her mind that night before she decided to jump over the railing and end her own life. He knew she suffered from depressions and he knew they were bad. He just didn't think they were that bad. He should have saved her, he was supposed to save her. Only he didn't. Ironically enough he was always scared being on the road, worrying she might do something stupid when he was gone, yet she had made this decision while he was home, sleeping in their bed.
She hadn't screamed or made a single sound. She had just moved her body over the railing and let herself fall down. He always wondered what had gone through her head leading up to that. What bad thoughts had finally pushed her over the edge? Had she whispered any words of goodbye to his sleeping form? Had she cried? Had she regretted the decision the second her feet had left safety and she felt herself going through the air?
He still remembered the loud thud of her body hitting the ground below waking him up that night. Although he didn't know what the sound was, he somehow knew. A shiver went through his entire body and he had screamed out her name before even making it out of the bedroom. He remembered the light being on in the hallway and all the way down the long staircase that twirled around in a downwards spiral through all three floors. He remembered running to the railing, looking down and seeing her lifeless body beneath. He remembered running down the long stairscase, constantly calling out her name, praying in his head for her to still be breathing. And he remembered pulling her lifeless body up in his arms and seeing her bloody face that strangly enough looked peaceful. Her eyes were closed and she just looked like she was sleeping. Only the blood gave away that wasn't the case. The blood and the lack of breath and heartbeat.
He hadn't heard Roman walk out from whatever room he had been inspecting. He didn't notice his friend next to him until Roman placed his hand over Dean's on the railing and stood next to him to stare down as well. This was why Dean always preferred Roman. Roman never pitied him by constantly saying he was sorry or asking how he was doing. Roman was simply just there for whatever Dean needed and right now he just needed to feel that friendly pat on his hand.
"Why couldn't I save her?" Dean asked.
"I don't know," Roman answered.
"Why wasn't my love enough? I should have loved her more," Dean finally felt the tears he had managed to hold back the entire time since he set foot in the house again.
"I don't think it's possible to love anyone more than you loved her and she knew that. She loved you too and you know that but sometimes love don't conquer all no matter how much we want it to," Roman said.
Dean sighed and Roman squeezed his hand firmly.
"Ready to get out of here?" Roman asked.
"I just need a minute," Dean said. "Alone."
"Of course. I'll wait in the car," Roman said. "Oh, and I found this."
Roman placed a frame in Dean's hand before moving to the staircase to give Dean a moment alone to say goodbye to the house and all the memories it held. Dean knew what picture would be staring back at him before he looked down at it. A picture of them together from one of their first dates. She looked so happy that day and she probably was. The disease didn't show its ugly face everyday but it was always there with her, trying to darken her soul and take over completely. In the end it had won.
"I loved you so much," Dean cried as he looked at the picture. "I still do. I love you so much and I don't know how to get over you or if I ever want to get over you."
He gently ran a finger over her face in the picture. He would give anything to feel her lips against his just one last time.
"I want you to know that I'm not mad at you. I don't blame you for doing this. I know it wasn't you. It was that ugly... thing..." He never could say the word, not after it had taken her away from him.
He moved to the staircase and started walking down again. Walking down was even harder than walking up. He thought it would be hard enough to come back to the house and even harder to walk back inside it but now that he was leaving, it was the hardest thing he ever had to do. Saying goodbye to the house, saying goodbye to the memories, saying goodbye to her.