Memories of a Hero
By HollieC
WARNING: TISSUES NEEDED, Character death (I cried while writing this)
A/N: If you are not a fan of Lisa, you may not want to read this story. This story is set in the future from the POV of Lisa. I apologize for typos, please point them out if you see any. Tag yourself if you like. Please comment, they are much appreciated.
Its the year 2040. Nick Jonas is President, gasoline powered cars are on the verge of extinction, marijuana is legal, crime rates are down and all known diseases have cures. Yeah, its pretty good living in this time, unless you are married to Dean Winchester.
The pass year has been rough for Dean and I. He started showing signs of dementia and living through memories. Yes, I know the man has experienced things in his life that any normal person would only experience in nightmares and movies, but this was more than just that.
I once found him, at two in the morning, in our granddaughter's nursery with a container of salt and a shotgun, sitting in the rocking car, watching Bethany sleep. All the windows were double locked with iron shutters and there was a devil's trap under the rug.
Another night, he was in the back yard digging a hole. I wrapped up in my robe and walked out to him.
"Dean?" He turned to me, "What are you doing?"
"What does it look like, Sam? We have to dig the grave and burn the bones."
I rolled my eyes, "I am not Sam, Dean! I'm your wife, Lisa."
He looked at me, confusion in his eyes, "You're not Lisa. You're old." Then he started digging again.
I snatched the shovel from him, "Dean! It's three in the morning, come back to bed."
About that time, our son, John came out of the house.
"Mom, what's going on?"
I put my hands on my hips, "Your father is having one of his flashbacks again."
John was 26 and a looked a lot like Sam. "I got him, mom, go back to bed."
I went in the house and John walked over to Dean, "Hey Dean."
"Sam! Why are you just standing there? Start digging!"
"It's done. We don't have to finish digging." John had done this several times before, so he knew exactly what to say to get his dad back to bed.
Dean looked at the younger man, "What? How?"
"The spirit is gone, the house is clean. Our work is done."
Dean took a sigh of relief. "Thank God for that! My back and knees are killing me."
John smiled, "We're good," and patted him on the back as they came back into the house.
I was in the kitchen, pacing, when they came in. My son looked at me and shrugged as he helped his father upstairs to the bedroom. I looked out in the back yard at the hole thinking I'd have to call Ben to come help John clean it up. My life had always been upside down since Dean came back into my life, but I never expected it to get this bad.
Ben and his wife, Julia, had come to visit on a Sunday, as they did every week. Dean was sitting in his recliner with their daughter, Hannah, on his lap. They laughed and played. It was a perfect picture until something snapped in Dean's head.
He looked at the dark haired little girl and called her a little bitch. Ben jumped up and grabbed his little girl from Dean the minute the words were spoken. I knew something was wrong. Hannah was seven years old and had been Dean's pride and joy. Julia had started crying and took Hannah when Ben handed the girl to her. Hannah was scared to death.
"Dean?" Ben kneeled beside the chair, "Are you OK?"
Dean's eyes never left Hannah.
"Dean?" I spoke in almost a whisper, "Babe?"
Dean moved like he was about to stand. Ben turned to Julia, "Take her outside, now."
Dean fell back into the chair and leaned back, holding his chest, pulling at his shirt. He groaned and grunted as if he was in pain.
He turned and looked me in the eye, "Lisa," his eyes started to tear up, "They've come for me. It's time."
"What are you talking about Dean?"
"Call Sammy, now!" He yelled, his voice raspy.
Ben grabbed Dean's hand, "No, Dean, don't do this, not now."
Dean turned to Ben, "I love you Ben, always have, just as if you were my own." He touched Ben's face tenderly. Ben's eyes began to well with tears.
I was on the phone, calling Sam, when I heard Ben scream, "No! Dean!"
"Oh God, Sam! I think Dean just..."
Ben ran into the kitchen, "He's gone, mom."
I burst into tears, Sam still on the phone, "I'll be right there Lisa," Sam said then hung up.
Ben held me to him as I cried. I couldn't stop. I couldn't breath. Julia came back into the house. Ben told her to call John and Shaye. I just cried.
The house was silent as the Paramedics loaded his body onto the stretcher. I couldn't watch. John held me close, while Sam and Ben talked to Deputy that came by to take a report. Julia and Shaye took Bethany and Hannah out to the backyard. Bethany was only a year old, but Hannah, she loved her Paw-Paw Dean and the last memory she is going to have of him is being called a bad word. John tried to comfort me telling me that everything was going to be OK, saying that "Dad was going to be OK, hunting monsters in the afterlife." It only made me feel worse, but John didn't have to know that.
The funeral service was the hard. Sam gave a beautiful eulogy, making sure not to speak of the life he and Dean had lead, and only focusing on the good times they spent together.
For weeks after the funeral, I thought back on the good, the bad and the ugly times we had over the years. The time that Dean freaked out in the middle of the night, and had broke my heart when he shoved Ben against the wall, the look on his face when John was born, the pride in his smile when Ben graduated high school. I remembered the John's 18th birthday when Dean hired 3 strippers for him and friends. I wanted to kill him for that, but that was Dean for you. I think one of my best memories of Dean was our wedding day. I was 5 months pregnant with John and I had never seen him so happy.
Sometimes, Sam would steal him away from me for some sort of weekend hunting job and I would worry myself crazy. Five year old John would smile at me and tell me, "It's going to be OK mommy, Daddy is killing monsters so they won't hurt nobody anymore." I hated that Dean told him those things, but John knew his Dad was a hero, and so did I, ever since the day he saved Ben's life so many years ago.
I cried myself to sleep every night and I still do; missing his soft snores, his midnight hijinks, and his comforting touch. I loved that man, Dean Winchester, and he will be missed, more than he would ever know.
I like to think he is still around. Sometimes I see him watching football, with a 4 year old John on his knee, rooting for their favorite team. I've seen him sitting at the breakfast table, drinking his coffee and reading the paper. I've even seen him sleeping in the bed next to me, smiling, telling me he loves me more than anything. He was an amazing man, who lead an extraordinary life. He was a father, a mentor and above all, a hero. My hero. Dean Winchester.