"Don't leave me."
Those were the last things I ever said to her; the last things she ever heard from me. I never got to say goodbye. I never even got the chance to tell her I loved her and meant it truly. I should have been more careful, more alert. It's my fault she's dead. Sam and Dean have tried to convince it's not my fault, but it does not help. I killed her. Well, in all technicality, I mentally did not kill her, but I did physically. I remember seeing the light fade from her beautiful steel blue eyes. I remember seeing her blonde hair fall around her shoulders as she fell to the ground. I remember seeing the blood stain the fabric covering her abdomen where I had given a fatal wound. I remember seeing a tear run down her cheek as she whispered her final words. I remember cradling her cold, lifeless body in my arms after she closed her eyes and died. I remember sobbing into her shoulder, desperately pleading "Don't leave me" into her shoulder, hoping that by some miracle she would still be alive. I remember these things and so much more. I had never felt the same way about anyone in the millenias I have been around than how I felt about Tabatha Milligan-Winchester.