Title: Bobby's Daughter
Disclaimer: I do not own anything you recognize…
Warnings: Nope.
Notes: Nope.
Enjoy!
Twenty minutes later, after Sam had convinced Mr. Singer to let me stay, I sat on the guest room bed. Dean and Sam were taking the den.
"So let me get this right," I said, carefully weighing my words before they were spoken, "you're leaving for a movie?" Dean was sitting on a chair across the room from me while Sam sat on the bed.
The elder shrugged. "Yeah."
"A movie?"
"Yeah."
"A movie?"
"Yeah."
"A movie?"
"Yes, Sydney!"
I rolled my eyes and lay on the bed. "Fuck you."
"I'd let you, but your father's in the other room."
I jumped to get to Dean, but Sam managed to get a hold of me and stop me. "Let me get him, Sammy!"
"I'm not Sammy," he started. "Sammy's eight and chubby. I'm Sam."
"Ugh," I groaned, "Just leave!" Sam left without any questions.
Dean remained and smirked and I really, really wanted to wipe the smirk off his face.
"What," I asked, finally, tired of the games.
"Your father wants to know you. Give him a chance."
"He had one. It was from ages one day to eighteen years."
"Sydney," he sighed.
"And when your father doesn't come to your high school, college, or medical school graduation – you know he doesn't want you."
Dean paused and shut up. I could tell that even his father went to his graduation. "I'm sorry," he whispered.
"Yeah, well… don't be," I said awkwardly.
He nodded and headed out of the room.