Disclaimer: The characters of Supernatural do not belong to me. The original character of Evelyn Winchester does.
A/N: This chapter takes place after the current Supernatural series. I thought about including it in one of the later seasons, like season ten, eleven, or twelve, but nothing seemed to quite fit. So, this is the next to the last chapter. I hope you've all been enjoying this story as much as I enjoyed creating it.
Chapter Twenty-One
Evy turned over in bed, immediately cursing herself for making that mistake. Her stomach swirled, her head throbbed, and she was blazing hot and icy cold at the same time. She had a raging flu, and had been suffering from it for four days. Sam had made her go to the emergency room the second day she'd been sick, and had been very frustrated when the doctor sent her home with nothing more than orders of bedrest and plenty of fluid. Evy had been relieved, as the last thing she wanted was to stay in the hospital when, as she reminded Sam, she was "pretty much indestructible". She slowly got up and made her way to the bathroom nearest her room. The journey was only a couple hundred feet, but it felt like miles to her. The motion of moving there also caused her stomach to churn more, which meant that by the time she reached the bathroom, she was promptly on the floor, leaning against the toilet, vomiting. The sound of her retching had immediately brought Sam running. He knelt down beside her, kept her hair pulled back for her with one hand, while rubbing her back in small soothing circles with the other. Evy vomited steadily for just under a minute, but it left her feeling weak and disoriented. As she sat on the bathroom floor, breathing heavily, she was only vaguely aware of Sam talking to someone. She leaned against Sam when she felt she wasn't going to be sick anymore, and felt herself shaking against him. Sam sat down with her, leaning against the bathroom wall as she laid her head down against his side. Suddenly Dean walked in and handed Sam a bottle. Sam put it towards Evy's lips and gently urged her to drink. Evy gingerly took a few sips, but her throat now burned so badly that even the icy cold Powerade was making it hurt. When she had drunk all that she could stand, Sam handed the bottle back to Dean and turned to Evy.
"You ready to go back to bed?" Sam asked softly, stroking her hair.
She had come into the bathroom to attempt to take a bath, but that plan was quickly abandoned. "No." she whispered, both hands clutching her forehead tightly. "I wanted to try to eat something."
"Okay. Come on." Sam said. "I'll help you get to the kitchen and make you a little soup. Sound good?"
Very, very gingerly, Sam helped her up and led her back down the hall towards the kitchen. Dean had placed her Powerade on the kitchen table, along with two of the pills the doctor had given her for her flu. Sam sat her down and moved towards the stove to prepare her soup. Dean sat with her, attempting to comfort her as she waited for Sam to place the bowl in front of her. He helped her eat a couple of saltine crackers and take her pills. Evy noted that, although she was now twenty-five, almost twenty-six, both her brothers were treating her as if she were twenty years younger than that. Both were super gentle with her, and she was thankful for them. After her pills had finally gone down, she laid her head on Dean's shoulder, waiting patiently for Sam to finish what he was doing. Her head started to ease a little, and by the time Sam set the bowl in front of her, she was feeling slightly better. Cass suddenly appeared behind them.
"Evy?" he asked. "You are still not well?"
"No, Cass." she answered, barely above a whisper.
Evy turned her head to look at him a moment, and flashed him a weak smile when he appeared guilt stricken. She knew Cass wanted more than anything to heal her, but he couldn't. She knew he wanted to help her in some way, and when she suddenly shivered, she got an idea.
"Cass? Would you go to my room and bring the blanket off my desk chair for me?" she asked. "The one with the sleeves?"
"Of course." he answered, walking down the hallway quickly.
Evy smiled and took a cautious bite of the soup bowl in front of her. "I think he's more overprotective of me than you two combined."
Sam and Dean both laughed, but there was very little humor behind it. They were both incredibly worried about her. She couldn't die from this flu, they knew that, but to see her hurting and feeling so bad made both their hearts ache painfully. Cass came back in with her blue Snuggie, wrapping it around her. Cass sat on her left side, Dean on her right, and Sam across from her. All three of them watched her carefully. Evy finished nearly her whole soup bowl, and was pleased to find that she didn't feel any more nauseous than she had been before. She felt slightly stronger, and when she gave the bowl back to Sam, she stood up.
"I'm going to get a shower." she said.
"Okay. Be careful, Cricket."
Evy nodded and proceeded to the bathroom slowly. The shower turned out to work miracles on her sore and stiff muscles, which had gotten that way from nearly three days lying in bed. She stayed in a long time, allowing the warm water to completely overtake her, and she found herself smiling. When finally the water started to cool, she stepped out and got dressed slowly. Though she still felt miserable, the shower had helped immensely. Her stomach no longer felt like a roller coaster, her head was now only slightly fuzzy rather than exceedingly painful, and she could walk without her legs feeling like jelly. Sam, unsurprisingly, was waiting in her room when she stepped out.
"Hey." he said. "You're looking better."
"I feel a lot better." Evy said, as she towel dried her hair some more.
"Good." Sam said, checking her forehead again. His smile at seeing her doing better turned back into a frown. "Your temperature's still high though."
"I'm gonna lay back down." Evy said. "Maybe watch a movie."
"You want to go to my room?" she asked.
Evy smiled. "On one condition." she said.
"What's that?" Sam asked. Evy walked over to her dresser and pulled her hairbrush from it, then handed it to him. Sam smiled. "Deal."
She walked down the hall with him, much easier than she had that morning. When they reached his room, Sam grabbed his remote and handed it to her, then sat down on the bed first. Evy got in next to him, and sat as she picked the movie. Sam groaned when her selection of Finding Dory was started, but said nothing. He brushed her hair a few minutes, and when he was done, Evy laid down so that she was using his legs as a pillow. Sam stroked her hair gently as she continued to watch the movie, and before it was at the halfway point, Evy's breathing was long and drawn out. Sam confirmed she was sleeping, and gently got up, placing a pillow under her head and pulling the blanket over her. He watched her for a long moment, before leaning over and kissing her forehead gently.
"Sleep tight, Cricket."
The rest of the afternoon proceeded uneventfully. Sam and Dean had both agreed not to take any cases until Evy had recovered, so they ended up watching a game on Dean's laptop. When Cass popped in in the middle of it, neither of them really moved; they were so used to him doing that that it hardly phased them. Cass said nothing to either of them as he moved briskly down the hall. A few seconds later, a frightened shout from Sam's room brought them both running.
"Sam! Dean! Get in here now!"
When Sam and Dean reached the door of Sam's bedroom, both stopped mid-stride. Evy's skin had turned a bright shade of red, and she was convulsing. Cass had thrown the blanket off of her, and when he touched her arm to try and shake her awake, he drew it back sharply. He showed his hand to Sam and Dean, and both were appalled at the sight. Cass's hand was blistered, and covered in what looked to Sam to be second degree burns at least. Before Sam could say anything, though, everything stopped. Evy stopped convulsing on the bed and lay still; the clock on Sam's wall stopped ticking, and it seemed as if the air had stopped.
"Hey, guys."
All three men jumped at the unfamiliar voice. Sam and Dean drew their guns, and Cass drew his angel blade. But standing behind where Sam and Dean had been only moments ago was someone none of them thought they'd ever see again.
"Chuck?" Dean asked.
Chuck looked exactly the same as the last time Dean had seen him. Average height, brown curly hair, green jacket, khaki pants, and sneakers. He was smiling, and after they were over the initial shock, Dean breathed a sigh of cautious relief. Maybe Chuck showing up was a good thing. While Cass may not have been able to heal Evy, Chuck probably could. Both Sam and Dean holstered their weapons. Cass had already done so.
"In the flesh." Chuck answered.
"Chuck, listen, please, you gotta help Evy…." Sam started.
Chuck held up a hand to stop Sam talking. "That's what I came to talk to you guys about." he said. "I can't heal her."
Dean's cautious optimism quickly flipped to anger. "Well then, why did you come?" he asked.
Chuck looked at both of them sadly. "I came to help you say good-bye."
Evy felt a chill, and reached down to pull her blanket tighter to her. The only thing she felt, however, was air. Evy opened her eyes slowly, expecting to see the dark red comforter and sheets of Sam's bed. Instead she found something that made her woke her immediately.
She was lying on the ground.
Evy jumped up quickly, her old hunter instincts reactivated immediately. Before she could fully take in her surroundings however, she realized something else. She wasn't sick. In fact, she felt better than she had in years. Despite the fact that she wasn't where she was supposed to be, Evy felt a smile beginning at the corners of her mouth. She took a deep breath, relishing in the lack of nausea or headache.
"Hi, Evy."
Evy shrieked and turned around. She hadn't been aware of anyone else there with her. But before her stood a friendly familiar face. Evy breathed a sigh of relief.
"Hi, Chuck." she said, smiling.
Evy walked over and hugged him. Though Chuck gladly hugged her back, she could feel that it was tense and awkward; something was going on. Something bad. Evy held Chuck a moment or two longer, then let him go. The look on his face, a mix of hurt, pain, guilt, and regret all rolled into one confirmed Evy's fear. Evy stepped back from him.
"Chuck, what's wrong?" she asked.
Chuck sighed. "Come on." he said. "Let's take a walk."
Back at the bunker, Chuck was still standing with Sam, Dean, and Cass. No one had said anything since he told them the reason for his visit, and Chuck didn't rush them. He realized that he'd just dropped an anvil on them, and he wanted to give them a minute to process.
"Say goodbye?" Cass was, of course, the one to break the silence. "What do you mean?"
Chuck took a deep breath. "Let's have a seat, guys." Sam cast a worried look at Evy, who was sitting completely still on the bed. "She's still alive, Sam. I've stopped time temporarily to give us a chance to talk."
"Stopped time?" Dean asked.
Chuck simply nodded. "Yep. Cool, huh?" he said, attempting to lighten the mood at least a little.
"What's going on?" Sam asked, taking a seat on the bed. "What's wrong with her?"
Chuck sighed again. "Evy is sick, guys. Really sick." At the exasperated expressions on Dean and Sam's face, he raised a hand. "Please, just let me finissth. Do you remember what Cass told you when Evy was attacked by Lillith?"
"She's a Sensitive." Cass replied.
"That's right." Chuck said. "I'm about to tell you guys a secret that only me and Michael ever knew the complete answer to. So it cannot leave this room, okay?"
Dean was fuming, and Sam was worried, but both slowly nodded.
"Sensitives do have a specific purpose. They're designed to absorb all the excess suffering in the world." Chuck explained.
"Excuse me?" Dean asked.
"They take in all the excess hurt and pain that the world goes through. That's why they're so physically strong but emotionally fragile. The emotion that they deal with on a daily basis is too much for normal people to handle." Chuck said. "Their increased physical strength and will to survive is a way to compensate for the fragility of their soul."
Sam seemed to be trying to soak in what Chuck was telling them, still sitting quietly on the edge of the bed, but Dean was struggling. "So what? Sensitives are basically like giant emotional Sham-Wows?"
Despite the seriousness of the situation, Chuck snickered. "That's one way to put it, I guess. But understand, Dean. Without Sensitives, as painful as life can be now, everything would be unbearable without them. Getting a papercut would be the equivalent of chopping off an entire hand."
"What does this have to do with Evy?" Sam asked for the first time. "She's not emotionally sick right now. She's literally boiling from the inside out."
"I know." Chuck said sadly. "Sensitives are also designed to hold back catastrophic disasters. In Evy's case, she's basically an incubator. She's the only thing keeping a global pandemic from occurring."
"So take it out of her." Dean said. "Destroy it."
"If I do that," Chuck said, "it won't stop it. It will only delay the epidemic from happening. And Evy's already been infected with the disease. Removing the epidemic won't cure her. There is no cure. There's only one way to stop it from happening completely."
"What's that?" Sam asked.
Chuck looked at Sam, his heart aching for him. He could tell Sam loved Evy, and he did not want to do this to the man. The Winchester brothers truly had been through enough in their lives. Chuck did not want to make them suffer more. But, then again, he had never pictured getting as close to them as he had. Chuck swallowed hard against the lump forming in his throat.
"Evy has to die."
Evy was now sitting on a park bench, Chuck sitting beside her, her brain spinning over what Chuck had just told her. She couldn't possibly be responsible for this. There was no way. No. No way. This was not happening.
"So…" Evy said slowly, "…if I don't choose to die, millions of people die instead of me?"
"I'm afraid so." Chuck said quietly. "Your body is the only thing holding back the dam. But it can't hold it back forever. Once you get too weak to contain it, the virus escapes, and the epidemic starts."
"Has this happened before?" Evy asked, not really sure she wanted to know the answer.
"Yes." he answered simply. "A few times. Most of the time, the Sensitives chose to die rather than risk the rest of the planet dying with. But two times the Sensitives refused to die were in 1300 and 1918."
Evy's eyes grew wide. "The Black Death and the Spanish flu?"
Chuck nodded slowly.
"What happens to me if I refuse?" Evy asked, though she knew in her heart that wasn't going to happen.
"There's no cure for this." Chuck explained. "You'll simply feel sick for the rest of your life, however long that might end up being. You'll suffer, a lot."
Evy's eyes welled with tears. "Why me?"
Chuck smiled. "The eternal question." he remarked. "But in your case, it's because I knew you were strong enough for it."
Evy felt a deep, painful pit in her stomach. She didn't want to die. She was finally at peace with her life. She had graduated from college just a few years earlier, and at twenty-five, she was the youngest professor in University of Kansas at Topeka history. She had not completely gotten out of hunting, helping Sam and Dean occasionally while she was on breaks, but she finally felt as if she had a balance to her life. Thinking of Sam and Dean brought another load of tears to Evy's eyes, and caused the ones she'd been holding back to finally spill out. Hurting them by leaving them was a thought that made her sicker than the flu ever had. She loved them both so much it was painful at times. Especially Sam. Protecting her and comforting her had been Sam's number one goal in life, and she knew it was going to kill him if she died. Dean would most likely turn bitter and angry to the world, even more so than he tended to be sometimes. That thought hurt Evy's heart. She finally put both her hands in front of her face, leaned forward, and started to weep. She felt Chuck place a hand on her back and pat it gently. After a moment, though, he was gently trying to pull her up.
"Evy. Look up. There's someone here to see you."
Evy glared at him for a moment, until she realized that there was indeed someone else there with them. She looked from the eyes of Chuck straight into the eyes of Bobby Singer and John Winchester. Her mouth hung open for a moment, until Bobby finally broke the silence.
"Hey, Baitfish." he said, his mouth breaking into a warm smile as he opened his arms to invite her for a hug.
"Bobby!" she exclaimed, jumping from the seat into Bobby's arms. "Daddy!"
Both men kept a tight hold on her. Evy couldn't bear the thought of letting them go. She had forgotten how much she missed them until just now. Bobby smelled exactly as she'd remembered him. A mix of Old Spice and whiskey. John seemed more gentle than Evy remembered him. For the first time ever, Bobby let her go first, followed by John. John looked at her the longest, running his hand through her long, wavy brown hair.
"You grew up so beautiful." he said.
"I miss you, Daddy." Evy said, touching a hand to his face, still unable to believe that he was actually there.
"I miss you too, little one." John said, wrapping her into another hug.
Bobby turned to Chuck. "Can we have a little privacy?"
"Sure." Chuck said, walking to the other side of the park.
When Chuck was gone, Evy sat back down on the bench. John sat on one side of her, Bobby on the other. John put an arm around her shoulder, while Bobby held her hand tightly in his.
"I guess you guys know what's going on?" Evy asked.
John and Bobby both nodded, but didn't reply.
A brief pause before Evy asked them both, "What should I do?"
"We can't make that decision for you, Baitfish." Bobby said. "That's all up to you."
"Did it hurt?" she asked them both.
"What?" John asked.
Evy fixed her big brown eyes on him. "Dying." she whispered.
"Quicker than falling asleep." Bobby answered, as John shook his head.
"What happens, you know…after?" she asked.
Chuck had appeared before them again. "You'll come back here." Chuck said.
"Will I be alone?" she asked.
"No." John answered. "This is a park I used to take Sam and Dean to when they were little. Our house is a little ways down there." he said, pointing down the street. "Your mom lives across the street from me and Mary."
"Mom?" Evy asked. "Can I meet her?"
"Not yet." John said.
"And I'll be here too." Bobby said. "My heaven's right next to yours. It's not usually done this way, but you can come through and see me anytime you want."
Evy looked to Chuck, who was nodding in confirmation. "That's right."
Evy took a shaky breath. She knew what she had to do. She'd never be able to live with herself if millions of people died instead of her. And the thought of suffering like this for the rest of her life, when she could come here and live in peace; the decision was practically already made. But one thing was holding her back.
"Chuck?" Chuck knelt down in front of her, concern showing in his kind face. "Do I have to come right away? Can I say goodbye to Sam and Dean first?"
Chuck thought it over for a moment and answered, "Sure. I can't cure you, but I can slow the sickness down some. You'll still feel horrible, but I can give you, say, six hours? How's that sound?"
"Like not enough time." Evy answered honestly. "But I'll take it."
Chuck nodded. "Okay." Chuck put an affectionate hand to her cheek. "This is a brave thing you're doing."
Bobby and John nodded in agreement.
"Wait." Evy said as Chuck got up. "If I've only got a few hours, I don't want to waste it telling Sam and Dean about this. Can you talk to them…?"
"I've been doing that as we've been talking." Chuck explained simply.
"What? How?" Evy said.
Chuck shrugged and pointed to himself, as if to say Um, hello?.
"Right." Evy smield. "I guess the whole two places at the same time isn't really a big deal for you."
Chuck smiled, and placed a hand on her shoulder, preparing to send her back to the bunker.
"You son of a bitch!" Dean was yelling. "No way. She's not dying."
"It's her choice, Dean." Chuck explained patiently. "And she's already made it."
"What do you mean?" Dean asked.
"I've been talking to Evy at the same time I've been talking to you." Chuck said. "She knows everything that's going on. She's made her choice."
"Well, that's just too damn bad!" Dean declared. "She can't!"
"She can. And she will, Dean." Chuck said. "Now, I've already told her that I can slow the sickness down and give her six hours with you two. But she doesn't want to come back unless you both agree not to fight her on her choice."
"Tell her to come back." Sam answered. He had been listening from the edge of the bed, keeping an eye on Evy's still form the entire time. "We won't fight her." he said, as a tear slipped down his cheek.
"The hell we won't!" Dean exclaimed angrily. "How can you let her do this?"
"The whole world will die if we don't, Dean." Sam said quietly.
"I don't give a damn about the whole world!" Dean shouted.
"Neither do I, Dean!" Sam exclaimed, suddenly jumping up from the bed, fists clenched, standing toe to toe with Dean. "Neither do I. If the whole world had to die to save her, I'd take that in a heartbeat."
"Then why are you agreeing to this?" Dean asked, his emotional temper suddenly tapered a bit by Sam's sudden outburst.
"Didn't you hear Chuck?" Sam asked. "If she stays alive, she will suffer, Dean. She will stay this way for the rest of her life, which in her case, could be forever." Sam's voice broke as he continued. "We have to..." Sam shut his eyes tightly. When he opened them again, more tears were streaming down. "We have to let her go." he whispered.
The tears coming down Sam's face took any anger and defiance Dean had been feeling and replaced it with despair. Evy would be dead later that day. All the effort he and Sam had spent keeping her safe was for nothing. He didn't reply, just ran a hand across his face in an effort to keep his own tears at bay, at least for now. He simply nodded, and turned to tell Chuck to let Evy come back. But Chuck was nowhere to be found. He had already left.
"Sammy. Dean."
Both boys turned back to Sam's bed, where Evy was lying there looking at them. Sam flew to her side, checking her temperature. In a cruel twist, her fever was almost gone. She seemed to be nearly back to normal. Sam grabbed her into a crushing hug.
"Sammy." she said patiently, wrapping an arm around him. "Sammy, I've got six hours. Don't suffocate me first."
Despite himself, Sam chuckled and pulled away from her. Evy grabbed his hand and held it to her face for a moment. Her bottom lip trembled, but she held back the tears that threatened to fall. She'd be damned if she was going to spend her last few hours crying. So instead she reached a hand to Sammy's face and wiped the tears she saw there.
"Don't cry, Sammy." she whispered. "Please."
Sam smiled, though there was no happiness in that smile. "What do you want to do?" he asked.
Evy answered sadly, "Just stay here with me. Don't leave me, please."
"Not a chance." Sam said. "Never."
The next four and a half hours went by far too fast for both Sam and Dean. Sam sat on the bed with Evy, just as he'd done right before she'd gone to sleep earlier-him leaning against the headboard, Evy leaning against him. She got weaker and weaker as the time passed, but her fever, headache, and nausea did not return. Sam read to her, held her close, rocked her, did everything he could to try and soothe her fears. But the entire time, Sam's fear was growing. The lump in his throat was growing increasingly painful, and his heart was threatening to beat out of his chest. Finally, Sam could take no more.
"Hey, baby." he said. "You awake?"
"Yeah." Evy said quietly.
"Listen, I'll be back, okay? I need to step outside for a minute." he said.
Evy nodded slowly. "Okay, Sammy."
"Cass? Would you sit with her, please? I'll be back." Sam asked.
Cass, who had been sitting in a chair on the other side of the room the entire time, walked over to them. "Of course." he said gently.
Sam got up quickly and practically ran out of the room. He ran out to the kitchen, where he stood for a moment, his chest heaving up and down. The pain threatened to crush him, but Sam had to hang on. Evy only had a little while longer. He had to be strong for her. As he fought to regain his composure, the only thought that kept crossing him mind was damn it, it's not fair. It wasn't fair that, after everything he and Dean had done for the world, they had to give up Evy. Evy was his baby. Sam's baby. Ever since the day she was born, it had been him who had taken care of her. He'd soothed her hurts and her fears. He'd held her close and made her feel safe. He'd even raised her when he needed to. Why should he have to give her up?
"Sam?"
Sam turned to the kitchen doorway to see Cass standing there. "Cass, what are you doing….?" he asked angrily.
"Dean's sitting with Evy." Cass said. "He asked me to come check on you." Cass moved in closer to Sam. "Are you all right?"
"No." Sam said bitterly, turning to lean against the counter. "No, Cass, I'm not."
Cass frowned, unsure of what to say.
"Why, Cass? Why us? Why….why her?" Sam asked, the tears he'd tried to block starting to come now. "She's the most innocent of all of us, Cass. Why?"
"I don't know, Sam." Cass said. "I wish I could trade myself for her."
"Yeah." Sam said. "I wish the same thing."
"Sam…" Cass started, "I wish I knew what to say to you. What to say to Dean, to Evy. But there's nothing I can say or do to make this better for you. But I do know this. You're incredibly blessed to have this time with her to say goodbye."
"Funny." Sam said. "This feels like the opposite of blessed."
"Another thing I've learned, Sam, especially working with the three of you, is that death is not always the end." Cass said.
"Cass…" Sam began, exasperated. He did not want to be comforted at the moment. "Cass, right now I feel like my heart is being ripped out of my chest and stomped on. So, please, please don't try to offer me empty comfort right now."
Cass started to say something else, but was cut off by the sound of loud coughing and shouting coming from Sam's room. Sam and Cass rushed back to the bedroom, where Dean was holding and rubbing the back of a clearly distressed Evy. She was coughing violently, and was flushed and sweating. Sam practically dived back to the bed, and after a few more seconds of coughing hard, she groaned in pain.
"Cricket? Honey, talk to me." Sam said. He checked the clock on the wall. Fifty minutes to go.
"Sammy." she said, weakly grasping for his hand.
"Talk to me, honey. What do you need?" Sam asked. He was desperate for something, anything he could do, to make it better for her.
She groaned in pain again before answering. Her answer was so weak and pitiful that it caused Sam's heart to crack and bleed. "Just hold me, Sammy. Don't go."
"I won't." Sam said, kissing the top of her head again. "I'm sorry, Cricket. I won't leave you again."
Sam positioned himself so that he was sitting directly behind Evy. He wrapped both his arms around her neck and held her as tightly as he could. Dean sat on the other side of the bed, holding her hand, and Cass stood at the foot of the bed. Everyone was mostly silent. The only sound in the room was Sam murmuring to Evy that she'd be okay. Once the clock hit the twenty minute mark, Evy suddenly took all the little bit of strength she had to push herself up.
"Guys, we need to talk." She said.
"Kiddo, save your strength." Dean gently admonished.
"No, Dean. It won't do any good, so we have to do this now." she said. "Please. All of you, just listen to me."
"What is it, Cricket?" Sam asked, though he was absolutely certain that he didn't want to hear this.
Sam was scratching her back, something that had always calmed her, and it helped now. "I need you guys to promise me a couple things."
"What, kiddo?" Dean asked.
Evy took a shaky breath and squeezed Dean's hand. "Promise me this won't split you two up. That you'll stay together. Keep fighting."
Sam and Dean took a long look at each other. This was ripping the heart out of both of them, especially Sam, and they both seemed to have come to the conclusion that Evy's death would be it for their hunting days. But Evy had only fifteen minutes to live. Neither of them were going to shatter her hopes right then.
"We promise, kiddo. We won't split up." Dean said.
"Don't tell me that just to make me feel better." she said. "Don't say it if you don't mean it."
Sam suppressed a sob, but managed to tell her in a broken voice, "We promise, Cricket."
Evy nodded, satisfied that they weren't going to break their promise to her. So she turned to Cass. "Cass, they're gonna need you now more than ever. Promise me you'll take care of them."
Cass nodded. He looked almost as sad as Sam and Dean did. "Of course I will."
"Thank you." Evy's eyes were welling up with tears. She glanced at the clock. Twelve more minutes to go. "Guys, I'm sorry."
"Sorry for what, Cricket?" Sam said, genuinely confused. What could she possibly have to be sorry about?
Evy's lip trembled and her voice broke as she answered. She sounded like a sad, brokenhearted child. "Leaving you. I don't want to, but…"
"Hey." Sam said, pulling her back to him in another hug. "You have nothing, nothing, to be sorry for. Do you understand me?"
Evy nodded, but for the first time since waking up, she was sobbing openly. "I love you guys." she said brokenly.
"We love you too, baby girl." Dean said. He was holding Evy's hand tightly, and finally had his own tears streaming down his face.
"Love you, Cricket." Sam said.
For the millionth time in her life, he found himself cuddling her close, but this time was different. Sam knew it would be the last time, and that thought made his breath catch in his chest. He couldn't breathe, and he felt sure that when Evy took her last breath, he would too. The clock continued to tick, and they continued to sit there, Sam holding Evy close to him, Dean holding her hand, and Cass just standing by looking helpless. When the clock hit the two minute mark, Evy spoke again.
"Sammy?"
Sam swallowed, his voice barely audible. "Yeah, Cricket?"
"Sing to me?"
Sam nodded, and began the lullaby he'd sung to her as a baby. Tears trickled down all three men's faces and Evy's. Evy closed her eyes slowly, her ear leaning on Sam's chest, the sound of his voice and the steady thump of his heartbeat putting her to sleep. Ninety seconds later, as Sam continued to sing and hold her, Evelyn Abigail Winchester took her last breath of life.