Thought about this little story while washing the dishes and couldn't resist to write it down. I apologize for all mistakes I made, but this isn't my native language so I hope you don't mind.

Nothing of Supernatural belongs to me and I don't earn any money from this. I just know what's happening in the first two seasons so this might be a little AU, because the others aren't translated yet. But enough of my talk, hope you enjoy the story.

Solace

She knew something was amiss the moment he entered her bar. With him entered sadness and the feeling to be lost and her heart was saddened about this kid being so young and so overwhelmingly mournful. She was standing behind her counter and was cleaning the last glasses of the night.

"Heya, kid. It's a little late for a drink, is it not?", she said to him, but gestured for him to sit nevertheless. She would have closed by now, but she knew he needed someone to talk, or at least a nice drink before going home. A smile graced her old features, making her look less stern.

"Well, it's never to late for a drink, particularly if it is served by so an lovely lady.", he replyed cheekily, making her laugh slightly.

Preparing a beer for her late costumer, she regarded what she could feel from him. The sadness lifted a little bit but he still was lost and scared and so eager to hide it. She shook her head, saddened about the dark void surrounding the kid. In all her years she had not encountered so much emotions in one being.

"Here, this should cheer you up.", she handed him the beer. "What's your name, kid?", amusement shone in his eyes.

"When you stop callin' me that I'll tell you my name.", she cocked her head and seemed to examine him for a moment, then shrugged.

"You're a kid to me, but in my age everyone is, even when their eyes are as old as yours.", she smiled at his shocked and distrustful expression. "No, worrys, kid. 'm not readin' your mind."

"Good, because that would be creepy.", he said. "Name's Dean by the way.", she looked into his eyes and nodded before smiling again.

"Victoria, but call me Viccy.", she could see his face become selfloathing.

"Seems, fate is mockin' me."

"Ah, no, fate's what we make out of it, she's not a cruel person.", Viccy said leaning on the bar. The kid frowned.

"How do you know? It's not like you met her.", she smiled at him like she knew a lot more than him.

"But she comes to this little bar every day, didn't you notice she entered at the same time as you and sits greatly depressed by your side.", she nodded to the chair on his left. He looked to the place she indicated but saw nothing, but he hadn't expected to.

"So tell me, why's fate mokin' you?", he returned his gaze to the woman behind the counter.

"Because after I won a fight I fought for years and lost my soul in progress, the first person I met is named after the Victory."

"Well, was it worth it? Losin' your soul?", he met her honey-colored eyes with his own, after a moment he decided to answer.

"I saved my brother by losin' it.", he said as if it would answer her question. She lent back.

"But is an eternaty in hell, worth it?", she continued to wash her glasses. He looked into his untouched beer, then drank half of it.

"I believe it was.", she looked up from her work.

"You believe?"

"My dad, he did the same."

"And was it the right thing then?"

"No. But you can't compare it with it. It was not the same.", she cocked her head.

"Yeah, but if you can't live with the consequences, was it worth it?", now it was his time to take a closer look at her, but how often he looked at her, she remained an old bartender, with her white hair in french braids and knowing brown eyes.

"You say I should give up?", she put her towel away and seemed to think for a minute.

"No. I say to think about the time you have left and how you might want to spend it. So I just wanted an answer and you still haven't answered yet.", she smiled again.

"I don't want you to give up, 'cause I can see that you're a good kid. But I think that you might have burdened your heart a little to heavy, or someone else did it for you, I don't know. Maybe you could be selfish for once and share your burden."

"I don't want anybody else to carry the weight of my problems.", he said abraisive, but she just looked at him for a moment.

"You're really a kind person, and so stupid.", she smiled again at the glare he sent her.

"What about your brother?"

"What's with him?"

"What does he think about you losin' your soul?"

"He's angry, tries everything to save me.", she took up her work again.

"You don't sound to happy about that.", she replied lightly.

"Well, I see how it changes him, and I don't like it.", she nodded, not looking up from polishing her glasses.

"I see.", she looked up, catching his gaze with hers. "But was it worth it?"

"Damn it!", he shouted, banging his beer on the counter, looking away from her. "I want to spend the last of my life with the only family that I have left, but he can't get it! I saved him so he could live, not wasting away and desperatly trying to save me! And, yes.", now his eyes found hers again. "It was worth it.", she looked so sad at this moment, but at the same time she looked glad.

"That's good.", she wispered, looking out of the window onto the street, but her gaze was so far away. She looked back to him and smiled a last time. "That's good.", she put her work down and she appeared to be near to tears.

"Hey, you okay?", he asked worried by her sudden loss of composure. She nodded.

"Yes, I'm okay.", she looked up and met his worried hazel eyes. "I just hope that we will see us again someday, even if the chances are slim, it was nice talking to you, but I have to say Good bye, Dean Winchster.", and before his eyes she vanished in silver lights.

"What the hell!", he looked around himself, the bar remained the same, but it was empty, the lights were out and dust was covering all surfaces, even the glasses she was polishing all night. Whithout thinking he stood and left the place, trying to ignore the cold shudders that were running down his spine.

Back in the Impala he drove back to the motel, were Sam was hopefully sleeping for once. As he parked in front of the place they were staying, he remained in his car for a few moments, thinking about what happened in the last hours. And deep in his mind a memory surfaced, reaching for his cell-phone he called speed-dial two.

"Singer.", answered the sleepy and rough voice of Bobby.

"Hey Bobby. Here's Dean."

"Dean?", the sleep-drunken voice was awake and alarmed at once. "Did somethin' happen? Are you alright?"

"Yes, everything's fine. Just had a question. You still have Dads old little chest?", Dean replied. He could practically see Bobby rubbing at his eyes to get his sleeping mind to work.

"The one with the pictures you got from the lady that now lives in your old house in Lawrence?", he asked.

"Yeah, that one."

"Yeah, wouldn't dare to throw it away. Why are you callin' about it at three in the mornin', couldn't you wait for an decent hour to call.", Dean ignored the tired reprimand.

"Could you send it to me? We're staying for at least three more days.", he could hear the heavy sigh on the other end of the phone.

"Of course. But someday I want to know what this was about.", with this the connection was canceled.

It was on the second day the package arrived. Dean ignored Sams curious glance and looked through the pictures. He found what he was searching for in the fifth one. It showed a woman and a man, the man embracing her lovingly from behind, his hands on her swollen abdomen, both with brilliant smiles on their faces. They stood in front of a little bar, not the one he was in two days ago, but something similar. The woman in the picture was a lot younger than he last met her but she was the woman he met in that bar. Her hair was black, but still captured in two french braids, and her features weren't withered with age, but they were still the same, but most of all her eyes. They shone in the same warm light as they gazed lovingly at the man behind her, one hand on his cheek, the other above his hand on her unborn child.

"That's Dads mum, isn't it?", Dean looked up to see his brother staying behind him looking over his shoulder.

"Yes, that's her.", he turned the picture to see what was written on it.

'Harold N. Winchester, Victoria L. Winchester and Johnathan or Emma Wincester, depends.'

He turned it back to the front.

"They look happy.", Sam said. Dean nodded. "Do you know what happened to her?", he nodded again and gazed to the woman in the picture that was smiling so wide, she was shining with the light of an expectant mother.

"She died only two weeks after Harold died in a robbery. Dad said it was because her heart was broken.", so he had talked with his grandma. With a small smile he stroked her face, before putting her back into the chest.

"So.", he turned to his brother. "What about this hunt I wanted you to research."

Fin

Hope you liked it. With this I am wishing you all a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

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