Burden of His Past
Pale streaks of moonlight shined their way through the curtained hotel room windows. Soft and gentle guitar notes came through the old speakers of the stereo. He sat alone on the old couch that sat in the right hand corner of the room. He looked at his watch. It read 3:30 am. He sighed and shook his head. It was another night that he would not sleep.
He laid back on the couch and looked up at the old ceiling. He knew why he couldn't sleep. It wasn't because of the images of Hell. It was because of what that night meant to him. It was the night that his life was changed forever. He couldn't remember the details. All he could remember was his father putting his baby brother in his arms and telling him to go outside. Not long after that, the house was on fire.
He remembered his father running out of the house and grabbing him and Sam. He grew up without a mother. He was raised a solider. He even raised his little brother. He went into the family business, but not as a mechanic. He had often wondered about what life would have been like if his mother had survived that night. He had often dreamed it, even wished it. But every time, something seemed different or wrong. It was almost like it was meant to happen. The thought alone scared him deep inside his heart. No more tomato rice soup when he got sick. Hey Jude still brings tears to his eyes.
And now, twenty-six years later, he and his brother are the only Winchesters left. He wasn't sure what they are going to do. The Apocalypse is looming over them. There's pressure from everywhere to say yes. He sighed and looked out into the darkness of the room. He could hear Sam's soft snoring. It must be nice to be able to sleep whenever. He chuckled and decided to at least try to sleep. He closed his eyes as a single tear rolled down his cheek.
"I miss you, mom..." He whispered.