"Please, don't leave me. Drop the bag, Winchester and march that cute butt back in here."

Those are the only words that don't come out of my lips even if they are waiting patiently on the tip of my tongue, waiting for me to speak up and pull him back before he can leave.

(the fact that I'm holding back the unruly thing that is my mouth is a miracle all by itself)

Every part of me wants to make him stay (and sit like a good boy) rather then always finding a way out the door and back into the danger that is his life (and love).

I want to hold on to him, dig my nails in and never let him go, but I know if I did something like that all it would do was push him out the door even sooner.

But this time it isn't about hunting trips, where I got to be nurse every time he came back banged up worse then the last time, this time he isn't coming home.

"Dean's dead, Lois, he's really gone."

(dead? How, what, when, where, and why?!)

He didn't sink in until I found Sam in my arms, falling into me the way Clark does every so often, and it doesn't take long until I caught those contagious tears he's been spilling.

-

"Have a good day, Winchester, love you."

I learned fast in the Winchester family to say all those words (I love you, and so on) before and after every meeting because with them that day could be the last.

(and for him it was, the date he had known was coming for a damn year and forgot to mention that)

"Love you too, Lo, and I can't wait till I get to kiss these lips again."

"Don't worry you won't have to wait very long, it's just a day away."

Back then I had no idea that I would have to wait four months before we were together once again.

And then he would be back in my arms, right now I was getting ready to mourn, getting ready to suffer.

(and but of course let those silly tears fall until I had no more left)