I didn't feel it. I didn't want to feel it. I would leave Callie alone after I told her I'd try my best to stay alive. Instead, I egged him on until he stabbed me with the knife from the cabinet. I hadn't noticed it until now. And now all that was left was the dying part. And the part where he let me go.

"You will die," he said, letting me fall to the floor.

"I've accepted that." He glared at me, but didn't hurt me again. "I know the real you would never do this. I love that you, Dad." I should've started with those words. Although, it may not have worked then. But it did now.

The man in front of me, the spirit, changed into the man I knew. He was my father again, despite all the odds. His hair wasn't matted anymore, and there was no anger or betrayal in his eyes. In fact, he looked pained when he looked down at me. Then, I saw my mom. Blonde hair, blue eyes.

"She loves you," I said. I was bleeding out faster than I thought I would. "We all do. It's time to go now." I managed a weak smile.

"I'm sorry." He knelt next to me. "I'm so sorry, Jackie."

"It's okay, Dad. Just go with Mom." He nodded, and turned to face her. "Good luck."

"You take care of yourself, too," she said. "It's not just Callie who has love in her life now."

"I don't want to hear that." She chuckled. "Goodbye."

"No. See you again one day."

"Alright. See you one day."

"And take their offer." Before I could ask, they disappeared. I sighed, but I only had a brief moment of peace. Sam finally broke the door down.

"Jackie."

"I'm fine, Sam."

"Don't lie to me." He picked me up, and carried me out. I was beginning to lose consciousness.

"I'm not lying. It's just a stab wound. I've had worse." He looked alarmed. "Not physically, but mentally."

"That's not what I was talking about. Where is he?"

"I got through. He's in Heaven." I forced my eyes to stay open. "I'm okay."

"You're in worse condition than any of us." He set me down on the couch.

"I won't argue with that, but I'm still okay."

"You need medical attention."

"I don't do hospitals."

"Callie's fine," Dean said, stepping in. "She just wanted to get home."

"She's on her way?"

"Yeah. What the hell happened to you?"

"Nothing I can't walk off."

"If you can walk that off, I'll give up bacon cheeseburgers." He looked at Sam. "You call 911?"

"Not yet." I sat up, and tried to push myself up off the couch. Sam didn't like that idea, and forced me to sit back down.

"If you won't let me get things myself, there's a medical kit under the downstairs bathroom sink and there's whiskey in that cabinet." I pointed to the small cabinet in the corner.

"Whiskey and a medical kit? That's all you think you need?"

"I know that's what I need. Either let me up, or go get it for me. I can fix myself, Sam."

"Fine. Grab the alcohol, Dean." Sam headed towards the bathroom.