Hey sorry about the neglect of this part in my Chris story. I was suffering writer's block for this section. Hopefully I've broken out of it.

A shout out to Alyssa Ray, she helped with this chapter :)

I was glad to be out of the hospital. Hospitals are like bad omens to me, nothing good usually happened in those places. Also, I hated being prodded and probed like some lab rat. I was glad to be back at the motel, at least I was safe from medical staff and demons. For now at least.

The gash on my pelvis had been stitched up, to which I was told that a permanent scar would be left behind. My first battle scar, carved out by a demon's blade. Kira's voice and laugh still echoed through my mind, I could still feel her icy fingers tickling my chin.

I was reunited with my baseball cap once we settled back into the motel room, which I hadn't destroyed in trying to escape from the demons who had invaded the room hours before. My baseball cap was firmly clamped onto my scalp, the tongue facing forwards. Perched on the arm of the couch, I watched my father guide my brother to one of the beds.

Dean winced as he lowered his body onto the mattress, the pain etched clearly on his face. It killed me to see him in pain, my hero was wounded. Wounded, but not dead I reminded myself. I had the sudden urge to hug him as I crawled in bed next to him, gently snuggling up to his side. He smiled weakly and grabbed my hand letting me know it was okay. I caught the sorrow in my father's face as he turned and headed into the bathroom. The guilt of my father's words played back in my head as a combination of hurt, comfort and exhaustion overtook my body sending me into a deep sleep in Dean's protective arms.I awoke to my father's voice and a gentle shake. He was sitting next to me coaxing me into a coherent state of mind.

"Dad?" I mumbled as I rubbed my heavy lidded eyes, sitting up slightly in my position.

"Hey baby girl," he smiled, his tone gentle. "I have to leave for a few days."

So much for sticking around until we got better. So typical, whenever something bad happened Dad would ignore it or run away from it.

"Why?" I asked.

Since taking my baseball cap from my head, my hair had erupted into a wild ball of brown fluff.

"I have to take care of something important. It's only for a few days," he replied bushing the hair out of my eyes. He sighed. "I need you to do me a favor Chris."

I blinked at him, my eyes had regained their focus. I cocked my head curiously.

"What?" I queried, picking out sleep from my left tear duct.

I sat up carefully as I didn't want to wake my sleeping brother, my eyes studying my Dad's expression.

"You need to keep an eye on your brother for me. He's still weak and needs to rest," said Dad softly. "Can you make sure he does that for me?"

This was a pretty tall order to give to an eleven year old. My eyes widened, creating the puppy dog effect.

"Please don't go" I begged.

Dad looked away, looking defeated, but quickly regained his composure.

"I'm sorry Chris I have to," he said. "You'll be fine."

That was a phrase I had heard for years. Not matter how hard I would try, he would always leave me, regardless to anything.

"I really need you on this one darlin'. Dean needs you and so do I." he added gently, giving me a half smile.

I averted my eyes from him. Dad gently kissed me on the forehead and pushed himself off of the bed.

"I'll be back in a couple of days. Call me if there is an emergency, and make sure he rests and takes the two prescriptions the doctors left. The directions are on the bottle," Dad instructed. "You can handle that, right sweetheart?"

I guess I was gonna have to. Hell, I mastered using a freakin' can opener when I was four years old, which lead me to become an expert at working the stove by the time I was seven. Though reading medical instructions was gonna be new to me. I found myself sliding off the bed and traveling towards him, tears in my eyes. He couldn't leave, not after everything that had just happened.

"Please don't go Dad," I pleaded tearfully. "Please."

He grabbed my shoulders and looked me directly in the eye.

"You can do this Chrissie," he assured. "Dean needs you right now and this is important to …"

He paused, obviously unable to finish his sentence. Probably to chicken.

He then hugged me and with a final peck on the head, he grabbed his bag and headed out the door. After everything, and now he was leaving? Again? Tears welled in my eyes as I slumped onto the lumpy couch, hugging one of the cushions to my chest. Soft sobs began to tremble throughout my body, making my shoulders convulse.I glanced over at my brother, he was stirring from his sleep. He shifted and groaned in pain as he tried to sit up.

"Chris?" he croaked.

I silenced myself, I knew my blubbering would wake him up. Wiping my eyes with my shaking hands as he called my name again. I glanced in his direction, he was sitting up and obviously causing himself pain in doing so.

"Baby, what's the matter? You in pain?" Dean asked with a sense of urgency in his weakened voice.

I had been told that I couldn't lie to save myself, I have a guilty look on my face whenever I try. Still it doesn't stop me from trying every now and again.

"I'm fine" I mumbled.

My brother wasn't an idiot, he knew every single detail about me so it was always hard to lie to him. Not that I would choose to.

"What's the matter Chris?" Dean asked as gruffly as he could muster. "And where's Dad?"

"He's gone," she said in a small broken voice "Again"

My brother frowned as his gaze ventured over to me from across the room.

"Um what do you mean gone? Gone to the store, Gone to get food? Gone where?" he asked, to which I shrugged.

Ha, if only. I could wish that was real, knowing fully that our father had ditched us again.

"I don't know" I whispered brokenly.

What was so important that he had to leave again. Why couldn't he just stick around for at least five minutes.

"Come here" he said, motioning to himself.

Dammit, I could feel the tears stinging my eyes, blurring my vision. I got up and traveled towards him, my face crumpling. I then found myself being scooped into his arms.

"Shhh, why are you crying? He left, he's done it before, right? I always take care of you baby, don't you worry." Dean stated kissing the top of my head.

"I'm sorry," I wept "This is all my fault. I'm so sorry."

It only seemed right to blame myself for this whole situation, I mean technically it was all my fault.

"None of this is your fault. How could you say that?" he gently scolded, hugging me close.

"I let the demons in," I sniffled pathetically "You got yourself hurt trying to save me."

True words on my behalf, but I knew my brother thought differently on the situation.

"What!" Deans voice rose incredulously.

Here we go.

"Listen to me, and listen good." he added sternly, looking directly into my eyes. "I have never been more proud of you Christina Mary Winchester. You looked and acted like a hunter in there. If anything I should be thanking you for saving me."

I could only sniffle in reply to his statement. Things were getting mushy and sentimental now.

"Hey, enough of this," he admonished gently as he continued to hug me tightly, regardless to his pain. "You showed true Winchester talent and we are gonna perfect this talent of yours. You ready to really start training with me? No more kid stuff all right, the real deal."

I stopped being a kid years ago, it wouldn't make a difference to me really.

"Come on baby, you need your rest," he said. "Let's try and get some more sleep."

So many thoughts were racing through my head, training, like how Dad trained the boys? I honestly didn't know what to think. Dean really thought I was a natural, or was he just saying that? God, how was I gonna take care of him, he was already talking training. I gazed up at him. The concern in my eyes changed into determination.

"Dad told me I had to take care of you, so nobody's training anybody until you are one hundred percent healthy, you hear me Dean Winchester?" I said sternly, complete with the finger waggle to express myself.

The invalid dumbass just sat there, raising an eyebrow at me.

"I mean it!" I added seriously, not willing to fold, sitting up with my arms crossed. A no nonsense look adorning my face.

His expression hadn't changed.

"Well," I gawked. "You are going to stay right here and rest. I'm gonna go and get you some pain meds, and you are going to take them."

I tried to remain firm and I then remembered three little important words that I was convinced would seal the deal.

"That's an order" I added.

As I clambered onto the kitchenette countertop and reached for the highest cabinet to get a glass tumbler, I was aware that I was being watched.

"Chris!" Dean grumbled. "You are going to fall!"

I scoffed and rolled my eyes at his statement as I produced a glass tumbler, I jumped down from the countertop.

"I was able to open a can of beans when I was four," I stated. "I was also able to work the stove when I was seven. You learn all kinds of household skills when your left home alone a vast majority of the time."

Once the necessary supplies had been gathered I was once again was at my brother's bed side.

"Here take these, and then I want you to rest. Seriously, Dad said I was in charge" I smirked, knowing full well that those weren't Dad's exact words. Still I relished them as they exited my mouth.

My brother just gave me a look again.

"Look kid, I appreciate you trying to take care of me, but I am still the adult and you are very much the child. I take care of you, end of discussion. But thanks for caring." he grinned swallowing the pills with the drink I had risked my neck to get him.

This discussion was so not over.

"Now, we, as you and me are going to get some rest. That is an order my dear." he replied as he relaxed back on the mattress.

I scowled at him, my arms folded. He wasn't winning again, I wanted some power at least.

"I'm in charge, I give the orders around here. Dad said, remember," I reminded him. "Ugh, you are so bossy!"

I could hear him chuckle as he closed his eyes. If he wasn't injured then I would have lobbed him with one of the pillows. This was gonna be a losing battle, I could tell. The old man wasn't gonna let me win. Then again, he never does. One of the reasons why he can be a thorn in my ass, that's big brothers for you. It sucks!

Stay tuned for more :)

Please review :)