Her hands we're cold, huge icicles in my small ones, mama? Wake up mama.
The screams came, came like waves waking her from the dream world let's read a story, once upon a time there was a princess with blue eyes and blond hair, and they pulled and pulled carrying her away from mama, mama that was so cold.
But soon enough the cries for mama, mama turned to cries for someone knew, someone with a mouth that smiles and told her the stories she wanted to hear, bob, bob, daddy tell me another story.
Family, the word sent into dreams of what could have been and what should have been, little white fence and red windows, 'how was school?' 'Daddy how was work, all those numbers hard for you?'
No it was something else, something she can't quite remember, memories that are blurred on the edges of screaming pain and the blue that never seemed to end, daddy why? Daddy did I have to? El, be my brave little princess, for me, for daddy.
The older version of her, the damaged version of her wakes with a scream as another memory comes burrowing into her head, daddy it hurts, it hurts!
Callused hands and a kiss on the forehead wake her up, his arms towering over her, protecting her, little miss crazy and her many daddy issues.
"Bad dream again, El?"
"Very, but I have you Dean Winchester to save me from them."
"Oh yes you do, Elle Bishop but just to let you know I don't do capes."
