Chapter Three – The Tears I Shed

She remembered seeing a cemetery as a little girl. Then, it appeared as if there were miles and miles of headstones. Far beyond the horizon and never stopping. Her first funeral had been at the age of four. Mary Winchester's.

Dressed in jeans and her light brown leather jacket, Amy stepped across the cold, crunchy grass. She carried a bouquet of white and yellow tulips tied with a pink bow. It was disturbing to notice how close the headstones were together; Amy was afraid she would step on someone's deathbed.

Jaclyn Ingram Forrester

1944 - 2006

A Gentle Spirit Set Free

She gulped staring at the headstone. There it was, right there…She imagined a fourth line:

Killed By Demon

"I know it's wrong to think it was my fault…" Amy spoke gently. She knelt down, on a single knee, laying the flowers on the dirt. "I kinda think it's stupid to be talking to a gravestone…you're not even buried here…" Her eyes traced over the Jaclyn Ingram Forrester. "There was nothing to bury…except some pictures…your friends and family wanted to do that…"

There was a chilly breeze then. She felt it sting her cheeks. Her hands were already numb. She should have been wearing a scarf and gloves.

1944 – 2006…

Amy smiled sadly. "You would have been annoyed with the service." She bit her lip. "It was nothing like you said you wanted it to be…they sang a bunch of hymns at church…the funeral was depressing…you wanted it to be lively. You wanted a "party"…not a funeral…I couldn't have a say…people didn't even know who I was…your daughter came…she cried…a lot…I hugged her once…then I left…"

She wiped her hand over her mouth; her eyes were still studying every shade of the gray, marble gravestone.

"I want to see you…" Amy begged silently. She looked up at the sky, half-expecting to see Grammy's face looking down through the clouds.

"I don't know what's happening…" she choked out, fighting every tear struggling to break through, "when I met you…you made sense out of things…now…" She bit her lip again; the cold was making her entire body numb.

"I miss you…" Amy sighed. "And I miss Dean and Sam…and I know you'd tell me to call them…demand they drive here…" She sniffed. Then coughed. And sniffed again. "I thought I was meant to be a part of their lives…" Her tone switched from sad to bitter. "Mary told me I had a greater purpose in all this…I mean…I saw Mary die when I was four…in a dream…I was meant to be a part of Dean and Sam's life…I got these powers…I thought my destiny was tied in with theirs…" She shook her head angrily. "I don't understand what's happening…" She pursed her lips. "I'm losing my power…I'm losing interest in the things I used to love…in May, I won't be a professor anymore…I want a change…" She breathed out, deeply, seeing her cold breath in the air. "I hate changes. I know I'm changing too…but in a way…I feel like I'm turning into that Amy that existed nine years ago. She wasn't a bad person. She wasn't pathetic. But the Amy I turned into later…that's who I want to be…and I'm losing her…"

She stared down at the dirt, digging her nails into it and stroking them into the grass.

"Like I lost you…" Amy snapped. "I don't understand why the Demon came after you…" She closed her eyes for a moment. "You had nothing to do with Sam and Dean…except through me…and…" She coughed again, fighting every weakness inside… "I feel like it should have been me. I lost you…and now I'm losing myself…"

There was no stopping them. Each tear escaped – strolling down her cheeks and dripping from her jaw.

"And what I hate the most…what I'm more afraid of…is losing them…" Amy admitted sadly, still talking to the gravestone. "Dean and Sam…" She licked her wet lips, tasting the salty residue of her tears. "They're not letting me in. They still think we live in different worlds…and I'm afraid of them getting hurt…I'm afraid of the Demon…I want to protect them. My dad always told me to look after them, when we were just kids…" She shook her head. "They were my responsibility once…" She shook her head again. "Somehow…I've become theirs…and I'm not meant to be a burden…" She laughed, still crying, tilting her head to the side. "But now I don't know what I'm meant for…maybe what I thought was my destiny…was nothing…maybe turning back into that old Amy…the professor of Northwestern…dating a doctor…having a normal life…" The final tear rolled down her cheek. "Maybe that's all there is for me. It was never a bad life…but…"

She choked at her words, putting her hand over her mouth as she gasped. "I just…" She sobbed, squeezing her eyes shut. "I just want a life with them in it…"

Her chest hurt because she cried so much. She gasped for breath continuously. Amy buried her face into her hands, dropping down to both knees, not caring she was getting grass stains on her pants.

There was that choking feeling that was adjunct with crying. She couldn't stop. Every time she tried to stop and take a deep breath…it made her want to cry more.

And she did. Eventually her hands left her face and she touched the gravestone. She was kneeling down before the gravestone like a disciple would before a cross. Amy was praying, to Grammy, to let her have Dean and Sam back.

And she asked for forgiveness.

I know it wasn't my fault…I KNOW…but…Amy sobbed again, stroking Grammy's engrave name. You'd be alive if it weren't for me…

O.O.O.O.O.