A/N: This is just a long one shot that was somewhat inspired by my friend Parsy. She gave me (us) a surprise one shot & I thought I'd return the favor. There is no specific time line. It's AU, for sure though. I'm sorry if it's a little sad. I wasn't really intending it to be sad, it just kinda came out that way. Hope you like it! :)

Daughter

Elm Treigh

Bobby sat at his desk, books spread across him and around him like little hills. He rubbed his eyes with his palms, trying to stay awake. There were Demonic omens a state over and he needed to do as much research as he could now before Sam and Dean show up to help him.

He leaned back in his chair groaning, stretching out his legs before him. He had been at it for hours now. He needed a break. With a heavy and tired sigh, he rose from his seat and made his way to the kitchen to make himself a good Cup 'o Joe and maybe some late night snack or something.

He reached his coffee machine first and turned it on, smelling the aroma of the delicious brew as though he had been deprived of it for months. He then made his way to the fridge, opened it, and peered in. Nothing. He hung his head frustrated and a little annoyed. He had been so occupied on the omens and the poor young women dying like moths to a bug zapper that he hadn't had time to go grocery shopping. Something he should do if Sam and Dean were coming. Those boys, especially Dean, could eat a mammoth if they found one.

He sighed, closing the fridge and going to his pantry. Looked like another sad marmalade sandwich for him. He opened the pantry and grabbed the loaf of bread. The only thing he had in there besides cans, bags, and boxes of salt, herbs, amulets, and ammunition that he uses for his line of work.

He popped the bread in the toaster to give his sandwich some texture. He made his coffee and stared out his kitchen window. Not looking at anything in particular. Not thinking about anything significant. Just enjoying the peace and quiet he has come used to since he's taken on the Hunters life.

His phone rang, bringing him out of his trance for a while, but then he decided to ignore it, allowing the machine to take the call while he made his sandwich and drank his coffee.

"Bobby?" said a small tentative female voice. A voice he hadn't heard in weeks, months, years. A voice that made his heart race with anxiety, sadness, and nostalgia. "Bobby. It's me. Saryn. Are you there?"

Bobby walked to the phone. His hand itching to reach it and pick it up, but his stubborn mentality and painful memories disallowed him to do so. Instead, he just stood by the answering machine, staring down at it. Trying to recall her face and imagine what it looked like as she spoke. What emotions displayed on her face and if they matched the sound of her voice.

"Bobby, please?" She pleaded sadly. Her voice breaking caused Bobby's heart to ache. She sighed. "I, uh, I'm in town. Thought I'd call you and let you know that I'm back. I'd love to see you again, Bobby." There was a pause. "I missed you." Another pause. "I hope you don't mind... I know you don't like surprises so I figured I'd tell you that I plan to stop by tomorrow. Sometime in the afternoon. Early afternoon, probably. I'll see you then. Um... Bye!" She hung up.

Tomorrow afternoon? He had missed her too. He wanted to see her too. See how much she's grown and changed. Was her chestnut brown hair still long, silky, and smooth? Did it still have that golden brown hue when it gleamed in the sun? Those long, thick lashes that fluttered over big honey doe-eyes. The full pink lips that always had a smile to share. The way she'd look away, biting her bottom lip whenever she was trying to make a decision. He knew her like he knew the air he breathed.

She left.

Tomorrow afternoon? Well, at least he knew when he was going to go grocery shopping.

Saryn pulled up to the driveway and parked a couple of feet from the home. She removed her helmet and shook her long hair out, allowing the chestnut tresses to cascade down her shoulders. She tucked the helmet under her arm as she stared up to view the home of the man she had tried to reach out to last night. The man she had missed so very much while she was traveling abroad.

She knew there was a big chance that he'd still be upset with her. What she didn't know was how much it was going to hurt her, being rejected back on the homeland. She wished she could feel regret for the reason of their estranged relationship. But she couldn't. Out of everyone or anyone, she had truly thought that Bobby Singer would understand her decision. Even support it. Hell, he was the one that gave her the information that would force her to make a decision.

Apparently she was wrong. She was very wrong. And now she had to live with the guilt of hurting him everyday she was gone. Sure, she felt no real regret, but she was damned with guilt. And that was, arguably, the worst of the two emotions.

She sighed, dismounting her metallic blue motorcycle, placing her helmet on the seat. She then proceeded to untie the bags she had tied down on her bike and with a forced determination, she walked toward Bobby Singer's home. Heart racing apprehensively.

Sam Winchester was seated at the kitchen table, browsing through the web on his laptop to find any kind of connection between the victims. The young women that seemed to be dropping like flies.

If there was one thing he was sure about, it was that there was always a connection between the victims. No matter how big or small, there was always something they had in common to make a Demon or vengeful spirit or anything supernatural to come after them.

He picked up his beer and took a long sip of it. Allowing the cool liquid to hydrate his throat and calm his nerves. He was feeling as though time was running out. He hoped Dean and Bobby were able to get answers from the last victim's family. He needed something to go on. Anything.

A diminutive tap on the door relieved him of his frustration. He stood lazily from his seat to answer the door. God was he feeling exhausted. He opened the door slightly and was surprised to see a small young woman wearing dark skinny jeans, biker boots, form fitting top, and a black leather jacket. Her long wavy, chestnut hair flowed down her shoulders. She looked at his torso then slowly, her head raised to meet his eyes. She seemed just as surprised to see him.

"Can I help you?" Sam asked.

The young woman bit her bottom lip, looking away from him and around her surroundings. Sam noticed her clutching two green bags tightly in her hands.

"Is Bobby here?" She finally asked.

"No, he isn't," Sam answered.

The young woman frowned, hurt and disappointed. She swallowed hard, holding the bags, if possible, tighter. She looked away again, blinking rapidly. Sam could see her long think lashes glisten with droplets of tears. She was trying to blink them away. She sucked in a breath as subtlety as she could, let it out slowly, and finally returned her attention to Sam.

"I, um, I called to let him know I was gonna stop by," Her voice was think with emotions she was desperately trying to hold back. "Do you know how long he'll be?"

Sam studied her for a while. Whomever this girl was, hearing Bobby wasn't there to see her despite that she had called in advance, hurt her. "No. He left a while ago," He told her softly.

The girl pressed her lips together and nodded. "I shouldn't be surprised he's not here but..." She trailed, shrugging her delicate shoulders. She lifted the bags up for him. "I brought groceries. I know Bobby is always too busy to buy groceries." She smiled sadly. "My name's Saryn, by the way." She balanced both bags on one hand, extending out the other for Sam. "I'd give you a last name, but I, um, don't have one." She blushed.

Sam tried an understanding smile. "Sam Winchester," He answered, taking her small hand in his big one.

Saryn smiled a pleasantly surprised smile. She raised both brows at him as she removed her hand from his. "Sam Winchester..." She mused. "You're John Winchester's son?"

Sam sighed, nodding. "You knew my dad." He stated tiredly. He really didn't want to talk about his dad.

"No. I knew of him. Seen a picture of him once," She paused, waiting for Sam to look at her. Once he had, she smiled a friendly smile. "I see he passed on his good looks to his sons."

Sam smirked sheepishly. "My brother, Dean, sure thinks highly of his looks."

Saryn grinned. "Considering what I've heard about him, I'm sure you're right."

She glanced past Sam to the inside of the home quite quickly before returning her attention to him. The look didn't go unnoticed by Sam. He stepped aside, opening the door wider; giving her view more access to the interior. Truth be told, Sam needed a break and Saryn seemed nice enough company for him.

"Do you want to step inside and wait for him?" He offered.

Saryn looked inside again, leaning forward, biting her bottom lip contemplating the offer. It was plain to see she really wanted to come inside and stay a while. Drown herself in happy memories from the home. She wondered if the study still looked the same with its mountains of disarrayed books piled on one another precariously.

Sam stepped back a couple of more inches, pushing the door back doing so. Saryn peeked up at him through her thick lashes. Her lip quirked upward at the corners. She stood erect and stepped away from the door, lifting the bag up for him to take.

"I really shouldn't," She answered defeated. "I know Bobby doesn't like surprises. Just, um, tell him I stopped by and um, I'll call him later."

"You sure?" Sam said, taking the bags.

Saryn looked inside again and nodded slowly. "Yeah. It was nice meeting you Sam." She replied turning to leave. She had reached the bottom step then turned. "Sam? Can I ask you something?"

Sam stepped onto the porch. "Sure," He said smiling.

"How'd you get Dean to forgive you for leaving?"

Sam stood frozen as he stared at her; taken by surprise. "Um..." He rubbed the back of his neck.

Saryn smiled. "It's okay, Sam. Never mind." She waved good-bye and turned to leave.

Sam watched her walk toward one of the many junk cars. Watched her caress the car softly, almost lovingly, then look out onto the rest of the junkyard, sighing. She stood there for a few seconds longer, then mounted her bike, put on her helmet, and sped away.

Sam frowned at the retreating figure returning inside, wondering who she really was and what she meant to Bobby. He set the bags on the table and began taking out its contents to put them away.

A slip of paper fell out. Sam reached for it. It had Bobby's name written on the folded piece of paper. He knew he shouldn't read it, but curiosity got the better of him. He opened it.

Hey Bobby! I brought you some groceries because

I'm sure you're too busy thinking about the job to

even go shopping for something as important as

food. I've missed you, Bobcat. I'll call you later.

Love always,

Your Little Butterfly,

Saryn.

Bobby sat at the kitchen table reading and re-reading Saryn's note. I've missed you, Bobcat. Only Saryn has ever called him that. He didn't like it at first, but after a while and her insistent whine, it grew on him. Love always, Your Little Butterfly. His Little Butterfly. Only he'd been allowed to call her that and she had loved it.

The phone rang and went straight to the machine. Bobby glanced upstairs, glad that Sam and Dean were too busy tending to Dean's wounds to care or be aware of something like the phone ringing.

"Bobby?" Saryn's voice came to him like a punch in the gut. Sounding like a churches bell. Pure yet sorrowful. "Bobby, please." She sighed. "Bobby? Bobcat?" There was a long pause. "Bobby, I'm sorry but—" Another long pause. "I'm gonna stop by again tomorrow. Same time. I love you, Bobby Singer."

Dean was sitting on a chair by the mounds of books in Bobby's little study. His foot was propped up on a pile of books. He was drinking his beer and a book on his lap. He wasn't really focusing on what he was reading. Just sitting there, thinking about yesterday's events.

He and Bobby had found the Demon that was killing the young women but it slipped away before they could trap him. It had said something that made Bobby go crazy with his gun, shooting the Demon up as though he were a scorned woman on a rampage.

It was because of this that Dean had to force him to stop, causing the Demon to get away but not before it made the ceiling cave in on them. The plaster and beams landed loudly and harshly on Dean as he pushed Bobby out of the way since he was the Demon's target.

When they returned, Dean was limping, being supported by Bobby. Sam had immediately relieved Bobby of Dean; telling him that Saryn—whoever that was— had stopped by and gave him her message, the folded paper, and that she had said she'd call him later. Bobby slipped the note in his pocket, mumbling something under his breath as he walked away from the two angry and disgruntled.

When Dean gave Sam an inquiring stare, Sam just shrugged and helped him up the stairs to tend to his wounds.

Was Dean curious as to who Saryn was and what she was to Bobby? Of course. Bobby was like a father to him. He was family. Dean was aware that he didn't know much about Bobby's life before them. And who was he to demand anything from him? But whoever this Saryn chick was had ruffled Bobby's feather's, actively seeking Bobby out, and Dean couldn't help but be highly suspicious of her intent.

A whisper of a tap on the door brought Dean out of his reverie. He grunted as he slowly stood, being sure not to put any pressure on his injured foot. He limped to the door. He opened it and was somewhat surprised to see a small young woman wearing a black leather jacket, silver top, fitting jeans, and boots. Her long thick hair showered her shoulders. Dammit. He thought. She's pretty. She looked up at him disappointed. Dean stared back at her, amused.

"You must be Saryn," He commented. He had forgotten that she was supposed to come by. Sam had told him she would stop by, but Dean didn't really think she would.

"And you must be Dean Winchester," She replied sadly. "I take it Bobby isn't here?"

Dean nodded, seeing her sad pout. "He's out with Sammy."

Saryn bit her bottom lip, playing with the strap of the bag she carried. She looked down and noticed Dean's foot was bandaged. "What happened to your foot?"

Dean looked down at his foot then back at her. "Accident. Yesterday," He replied vaguely with a shrug.

Saryn smiled coyly. "And you let them bench you over a sore foot?" She teased. Dean's lips quirked. "I gotta say, Dean..." She walked past him, inside, dropping the bag she carried on the table. Dean had no choice but to close the door behind her, watching her.

"Gotta say what?" He asked limping toward a chair, keeping an eye on Saryn. He watched her, a little amazed, as she zigzagged throughout the kitchen as though she knew it from heart. Maneuvering her way around like a housewife.

Saryn grinned wider at him then placed a pot of water on the stove, turning it on so that the water began to boil. She then made her way to the cupboards, cabinets, and pantry, taking out spices and herbs; quickly filling the kitchen up with a sickly sweet aroma. She cracked open the small kitchen window.

"Considering what I've heard about you," She began, returning her attention to Dean, walking to him. She sat down at a chair across from him, bending over to lift his injured foot on her lap, removing the bandages gently as though she were a nurse. She continued, "I wouldn't have expected you to just sit back and watch."

Dean scrutinized her movements carefully. He allowed her to massage his injured foot because it felt divine. The smell of the spices and herbs she was brewing calmed his nerves and soothed the ache he had been feeling all morning. He still had no clue what her intentions were, but he'd find out. A little more observing on his behalf would give him answers.

"Yeah, well, Sam's pretty persistent," He responded.

"And freakishly tall," Saryn added, receiving a smile from Dean. "Seriously, what'd you feed him?"

Dean shrugged. "Chef Boyardi."

Saryn raised her brows at him. "Chef Boyardi?"

Dean nodded. "Yep. And Lucky Charms and chips..."

"You fed him junk and he came out like that?"

"Pretty much," Dean answered, mouth in a wide grin.

Saryn chuckled, standing, still holding his foot, then gently placing it on the chair she had just sat on. She made her way to the boiling mixture she was concocting. Fanning the steam with her hand before grabbing a ceramic bowl. She turned off the stove, grabbed a rag, and dumped some of the mixture into the ceramic bowl. She returned to Dean, carrying the bowl with her in one hand and the towel in the other. She placed both items on the table.

"All Bobby ever fed me was healthy all American meals," She said to Dean, lifting his foot up, sitting down, and replacing the foot on her lap as she had before. She dipped the towel in the hot liquid, wrung it, and began wrapping it around Dean's foot, eliciting a pleasurable hiss from him. "And look at me," She continued. "I'm still just a short stump."

"Bobby fed you?" Dean inquired, watching her rub his foot over the hot towel. He was now unsure whether she was a threat or not. "Where'd you learn to do this?"

Saryn looked up at Dean, smiling. "I know what you, Sam, and Bobby do." She stated. "Bobby taught me the trade, albeit reluctantly."

Dean cocked a brow at her. "You're a Hunter?"

Saryn nodded. "I've been in Europe the past couple of years. Give or take a few months. Learned this remedy from a Gypsy in France," She chuckled, shaking her head. "You think the States are bad? Europe? Ten times worse."

"That so?"

"Yep. You learn things you'd never learn here. Lots of things."

"So you traveled abroad to be a better Hunter?"

Saryn frowned. She stopped rubbing his foot and looked away. "No. I went to find answers." She looked at Dean again, catching his eyes with hers. "I'm an orphan, Dean. Bobby found me, practically dead, in a ditch not too far from here. He took me in and taught me everything he knew. It's how I've heard of your dad." She smiled at him. "You know he's a legend over there?"

Dean smirked at her, decided she wasn't a threat and that he liked her. Puffing out his chest like a peacock, he replied, "Really?"

Saryn nodded. "Oh yeah. Every Hunter there knows about John Winchester. He's as famous as the Queen of England."

Dean snorted. Saryn smirked at him. She removed the towel, re-dipped it in the remedy before re-wrapping it around his foot. She then stood up, again gently placing his foot on the chair. She sighed.

"I gotta go," She said, walking to the fridge, taking out a cold beer, popping the lid open, and setting it on the table for Dean.

"Ya sure you don't want to stay and wait for him?" Dean asked.

Saryn smiled sadly at him. "I'd love to, I really would," She replied. "But I can't. If Bobby wasn't here to receive me, he wouldn't expect me to stay and wait."

"What hap—" Dean began but Saryn cut him off. "So, there's, um, laundry detergent in the bag. Bobby's always so busy." Dean glanced at the bag. "Keep that towel on for a couple of more minutes, then re-dip and re-wrap for about an hour. I promise you, you'll feel better and you'll get off the bench and back in the game."

Dean nodded. "Thanks."

"No problem." She opened the door to leave, but stopped. "Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"How long did it take you to forgive Sam for leaving?"

"What?" Dean almost stuttered out; taken by surprise with her question.

"Never mind," She said, giving him a sad smile. "It was nice meeting you, Dean." And with that, she left.

Dean sighed. He pulled the bag toward him, peeking inside. He found a folded piece of paper with Bobby's name on it. He glanced at the door, picking up the slip of paper, and opened it to read it.

Hey Bobby! I brought you some laundry detergent.

I know how busy you are. You're probably on your

last pair of jeans and shirts. I'm sure those hats of yours

could use a wash. Bobby, please talk to me. We need to

talk. I've missed you so much, Bobcat. You can't keep

avoiding me. I love you. I'll see you soon.

Love always,

Your Little Butterfly,

Saryn.

"So this Demon is looking for someone?" Sam asked Bobby.

Bobby remained silent, just dazing off into the distance. Yes. He wanted to say. It's looking for Saryn.

"But who? It's killed seven women trying to look for someone? Why would it kill so many women?" Dean countered.

"Maybe that's it. Maybe it's looking for a woman," Sam pondered out loud. "All the victims were the same height, had the same color of hair. This is who it's looking for."

"For what? What's so important about this girl?" Dean asked.

Bobby gave Dean a look. What's so important about the girl? She's an orphan, ditched for dead at the tender age of five. Why would Saryn be so important to a Demon? Did it have to do with what he had found of her? Was it something she found while she was in Europe? Was that why she returned? Why did she come back and why was she looking for him?

Suddenly the door burst opened and in stalked Saryn carrying a big white bag. Her big honey doe-eyes rimmed red and bloodshot. Clearly she had been crying and possibly drinking as she swayed when she had stopped in front of Bobby.

"How could you?" She seethed, throwing the bag at him, causing him to stumble backward as he caught the bag. Envelopes fell out of it.

"Saryn," He began.

"I get that you're mad at me for leaving Bobby. I get it. But I tried. I tried to keep you included in my life. I wrote you a letter everyday I was gone. I called you on Holidays. I reached out to you. But you. You shut me out, Bobby. Each and every time. And now you do this?" She gestured to the bag whose contents were spilling out. "You send me a bag full of the letters I sent you? Letters that weren't even opened? Do you know how much that hurt me? I—"

Bobby dropped the bag and walked to her. But Saryn took a step back and to the side, bumping into Sam who put his hands on her shoulders to steady her.

"Don't touch me!" She yelled, jerking her body away from him and instead, tripped over and fell on Dean's lap who was sitting. Dean made a pained noise when she landed on him. "Sorry," She whispered, lifting herself up to stand, but Bobby gave Dean a brief pleading look to hold her still, which he did.

Saryn's eyes glared at Dean. She clawed at his hands to let her go, but that only made him tighten his grip on her. "Let me go. I'm done. I did everything I could but obviously I'm not good enough," She spat angrily with an underlining of sadness.

Bobby sighed and nodded at Dean. Dean let her go. Saryn staggered to her feet. She glanced at Sam and Dean. "You guys... You two are lucky."

She sighed, landing her gaze on Bobby. She walked to him slowly, reaching for a silver chain around her neck. She slipped it off. It held a diamond encrusted butterfly. She opened Bobby's hand and dropped the necklace in his hand.

"I love you, Bobcat, but I can't take this anymore." She cupped his cheek. "I know about the Demon. Be careful." She kissed his forehead and walked away.

The three men watched her leave. Bobby tightened his grip on the chain. Sam observed Bobby as did Dean.

His heart raced rapidly, painfully against his ribcage as he watched, horror stricken, Saryn's small figure fall sideways, limply. Blood oozed out of her abdomen.

No! He can't have made it too late. He couldn't have. He should have known Saryn's intentions from the start. He should have understood the signs when he saw them and stopped her from leaving.

She was saying good-bye.

Yes, he did send her a bag full of unread letters she had sent him, but that was to keep her away. The Demon was after Saryn and he needed her to stay away. It was going to try to use him as bait. But she had come to him anyway. She left him those letters. She left him the necklace he had gotten for her on her tenth birthday. She told him she loved him and that she knew about the Demon. She knew.

Twenty or so minutes after she left he had figured it out. She did all of this to stall him and the brothers from tracking the Demon. She was going to confront the Demon herself because she knew it wanted her and she was risking her life to save his and Sam's and Dean's.

Once they realized this, they hauled ass to the location they knew the Demon would be only to have arrived too late.

Sam and Dean shot round after round of salt into it. Slamming the Demon with punches and kicks and drenching him in Holy Water. But none of that would save Saryn. She was dying.

Bobby rushed to her, turning her over onto his lap, trying to ignore the battle happening around him. All he could think of was Saryn. He could see the large gash on the left side of her abdomen. He pressed his hand on the cut, putting pressure on it to stop the bleeding, but it seeped through his fingers.

No. No, no, no, no. He thought looking down at her. Heart wrenching in his chest. She was looking up at him, tears falling down the side of her face. She smiled weakly at him, lifting a frail shaky hand up to him. Bobby took it in his own, stained with her blood.

"I knew you'd come, Bobcat," She whispered softly.

"Saryn," He choked out.

"It's alright, Bobby. Everything is going to be alright," She coughed up blood. "Ew," She said looking down at her stained front, then looked past Bobby at Sam and Dean.

Without looking up at them Bobby said two words to Sam and Dean, "The Demon."

"Dead," Sam replied, cleaning the blade.

"Then it's over," Saryn said coughing up more blood.

"I'll pull the car around," Dean said walking toward his car.

"No," Saryn said. Dean stopped and looked down at her. "It's too late. I already see the light." She smiled teasingly.

"Now's not a good time for jokes Saryn," Bobby chastised, trying hard to keep his tears at bay. He felt he needed to be strong. For Saryn's sake. For the brothers sake. For his sake.

Saryn's smile remained on her face. "You need a bit of laughter in your life, Bobcat."

"My laughter left when you did."

Saryn frowned at his reply. "Well, I'm about to leave for good so..."

"No," Bobby said forcefully. "No, we'll take you to the hospital and—"

"And die surrounded by white coats?" Saryn interjected. "No way. I'd rather die here. Like this."

"You're not gonna die," Bobby insisted, his voice finally breaking.

"Yes. I am," Saryn rasped softly.

Bobby shook his head, but reached inside his jacket, pulling out a paper. He opened it up and showed it to her. Saryn smiled widely, tears flowing down her face with a new force.

"Pen?" She asked.

Bobby took one out and gave it to her. With his help, Saryn signed the piece of paper. "I love you." Were her last words.

It was now dawn. Bobby, Sam, and Dean were in the back field behind Bobby's home, standing over a grave under a giant birch tree.

After Saryn died in Bobby's lap, Sam carried her body to the car while Dean helped Bobby up. He walked him to the Impala and allowed him to sit in the back seat with Saryn's head on his lap. They drove back to Bobby's place silently. Once they arrived, Bobby cleaned her up and changed her into a white dress.

They gave her a Hunter's burial, watching the flames coat her corpse, turning it into ashes. Then they sprinkled her ashes on the field where they made a grave and headstone for her, outlining the grave with stones.

Bobby knew she'd have wanted it that way. She used to play in the field, chasing butterfly's with his dog. It was her favorite spot to be. She used to say she felt the freest in the fields running and twirling just to run and twirl.

"You gonna be alright, Bobby?" Sam asked, placing a hand on his shoulder.

Bobby didn't answer, just stared at the headstone.

"Bobby?" Dean said tentatively. Bobby looked up at him. "She was, um..."

"I know," Bobby whispered, returning his stare to the headstone. "She was something wasn't she?" He took a deep breath, holding it for a few seconds, trying to keep his composure. "I wish I had told her I was never mad at her." He kneeled down at the headstone, placing a hand on it. "I'll see you someday, Little Butterfly." He said softly. Then slowly stood up and turned, walking away.

There was something in the study he needed to tend to. He reached for the silver chain that hung around his neck. Holding it tightly in his hand, pressing it against his heart. He had a couple of years of Saryn's life to catch up on and they were all waiting in a white bag by his desk.

Sam and Dean stood a few seconds longer, staring at the headstone. Their sympathy went out to Bobby. Saryn was far more than they expected her to be. She had meant so much to Bobby. They took one last glance at the grave before they too walked away from the limestone headstone that began to glisten in the dawning sun, reading:

Saryn Singer

1984 - 2008

Beloved daughter

A/N 2: I have pictures of Saryn, her motorcycle, and her butterfly necklace posted on my profile if you'd like to take a gander. :) Thanks again for reading!