It's Okay, Dad

I was woken up by the soft rattling of the door lock. I slowly opened my eyes to scan the room around me. It was dark and silent, except for the dim moonlight and the soft snoring of my brothers.

I turned my head slowly, looking over my shoulder at Dean, who was still fast asleep beside me. I stared at his features for a few seconds, I loved watching my twin brother sleep. He always looked so quiet and peaceful, it made me smile.

My attention was caught again by the noise coming from the front door as it opened slowly, revealing the dark figure of a man. I stared at the entrance of the room from where I lay. My smile widened when I recognized my father.

But that smile immediately faded when he took a step forward, leaving the shadows and letting the moon bathe his figure in pale light, exposing his face to my sight. He looked exhausted, lost and broken.

I stared at him as he dropped his duffle bag by the couch, collapsing on the piece of furniture, leaning forward and rubbing his face with both hands, as if trying to erase everything from his memory, the things he just saw, the things he just did.

That wasn't an unusual sight for me. When Dad would come back from a hunt late at night, Sammy would be already asleep and Dean or I would be awake. Usually, it was Dean who would stay awake and wait for Dad to come home. It was Dean who would put a hand on our father's shoulder and tell him 'it's okay, Dad.'

Dean and I knew what our father did when he worked out there. Sammy was barely nine, he was still too young to know about all this, the monsters, the things hidden in the shadows. But Dean and I knew all about that, and it hurt me so much when I saw that look on my Dad's face. All I wanted to do then was to hold him tight in my arms to make him forget.

I pushed the covers off my body slowly so that I wouldn't wake Dean and got up from the bed. I silently tip toed across the room, my bare feet gently tapping against the carpet of the room. I slowly made my way toward my father, carefully watching him as he held his head in both of his hands, staring into space.

We both remained silent. Dad didn't look at me as I stood in front of him. But I looked at him intently, taking a step forward, testing the waters. After a few seconds, I kept moving slowly towards him.

His hands dropped to his side when I bent my right leg to rest my knee on the couch, in the space left between his legs. I folded my other leg and sat on my heels, immediately wrapping my tiny arms around his neck to hold him close to me.

A comforting warmth flooded my chest and I felt my nightshirt pull up slightly as he hugged me back, his big, warm hands practically covering the entirety of my small back and creasing the fabric of my garment. I shivered slightly as his breath glided on the skin of my neck and my heart started beating faster when he pulled me flush against his chest.

I stroked his hair gently with one hand and pulled away slightly to look at him in the eyes. I gave him a sweet smile before leaning closer and giving him a small peck on the lips. He stared at me with a mix of love, sadness, guilt and sorrow.

We both closed our eyes as I gently pressed my forehead against his. My hand left his hair to rest on his jawline, his light stubble tickling my fingertips as I tried to comfort him, wanting to find the words to ease his fears and take all his pain away. Because I couldn't stand the sight and the thought of my father suffering. I just wanted him to feel safe and loved.

I held him tighter against my body, feeling his rapid heartbeat and heavy breathing as I looked at him in the eyes and whispered with a soothing voice.

"It's okay, Dad..."