A/N: Based on the song "Love Lives On" by Mallary Hope.


Dear Bill,

It's been a week since John Winchester showed up here at the Roadhouse, saying you weren't coming home. A week since I told him to get the hell out of here and never come back. But still this morning, when I woke up, I was surprised that you weren't here. For a moment, I told myself that you were just in the bathroom, and then I remembered. Jo wasn't up yet, so I went downstairs to fix coffee. Of course, I grabbed two cups and poured before I got off autopilot. Drank both cups because I knew I'd need it. The weirdest dream kept me up most of the night. I was running away from these little sixty-year-old flamenco dancers who were trying to give me a lobotomy. Even thinking about it, I laughed out loud. It echoed in the empty kitchen. I'm going to go wake up Jo. Maybe then it won't be so quiet.

Love,
Ellen


Dear Bill,

It's Sunday. After church, I took Jo over to play with one of her friends. I needed some time alone to clean out your closet. I didn't want to, but it needed to be done. I worked for three hours and still didn't finish. How the hell did you pull together so much crap in the time we've been together? I swear, I found things I never knew you had. Things like a clean dress shirt. If you actually had that, why did you always wear that old AC/DC rag with the holes in it? I must have thrown it away a dozen times, used it to mop up the bar, hid it in the back of the refrigerator. Funny how I'm wearing it for pajamas now.

I called Mama Beth today. She seems like she's holding up well. Told me that story about how you refused to take naps when you were little to the point where you would fall asleep leaning against the swing set. You always did have that stubborn streak. Must be why you were such a good hunter. Never willing to call it quits.

Love,
Ellen


Dear Bill,

It's your birthday. I took Jo to see you today. She put flowers next to your headstone. Daisies, her favorite. I don't think she quite understood what was happening, though. As soon as we got in the car, she asked me when you were coming home. She thinks you're on the biggest hunt you've ever been on. Probably because that's what I told her. I just can't tell her yet that her daddy's never coming home. She knows I'm mad at her Uncle John, though. She wants me to make up with him so he can come visit again. One day I'll have to tell her where you really are. I hope that day doesn't come anytime soon. But that's also the day I'll tell her how I fell in love with you. And how every time she says she doesn't want her spinach, or wrinkles her nose when she laughs really hard, or refuses to take her nap, I just see you all over again. And I want her to be strong like you.

But I'll be damned if I let her end up like you.

Love,
Ellen