Oh Heavenly Father, Oh Heavenly…Daughter?

Chapter 8

Char's POV

GASP!

The young girl watched silently as the two men jerked to life, heads jerking violently upwards from their original slumped positions. A small smile of humor lightly lit her face as both god smacked faces landed on each others, eyes wide in confusion.

Char's uncle was the first to speak. "C-Cass? Where the hell are we damnit? Why are we tied up?"

Her eyes flicked back to her father who was looking equally confused, not yet noticing her sitting in the chair only a few feet away.

"I-I don't know Dean. Last thing I remember was Char-"

Cutting him off, her uncle barked, "CHAR? What the HELL was she doing there! Didn't we firmly agree on NOT bringing her with?"

She ground her teeth tougher and shook her head. Char knew it wasn't just Dean who had made that decision!

Defending himself, her father shot back, "Yes Dean, we did! She just showed up near the end of our fight with the Croats and-"

Feeling it was time to make her presence know, she cleared her throat loudly. "Uh, you guys? Sorry to interrupt you two's little bitch-fest but I'm kind of on a deadline here."

Both men jerked their heads in the direction of the new voice and she couldn't help smiling a little more in amusement as their eyes both grew in perfect sync with matching expressions of shock and horror.

Now you should all know that Char had absolutely no idea of how bad she looked.

Over half of her body was caked in her father's dried blood, her hair was a mess after hours of wind whipping through it and the numerous times where she had run her fingers through it in some feeble attempts to stay conscious during the trip back here. In addition to the intense fatigue, she was also very pale, and the skin below her eyes were a shade of deep shade of grey.

In short, she looked very much dead. Eyes filling with anguish her uncle let out an unsuspected scream of terror causing both her and her father to jump in surprise.

"Oh, God! I'm dead and in hell again and everyone I love is dead and it's all my fault!" The hunter sobbed, shaking his head back and forth in misery.

Char's eyes widened in confusion, then realization dawned on her and a dark thought formed in her head.

I think I can use this to my advantage. Let him think he's in hell again, just for a bit.

Char felt a small, cold smirk crossed her face and she slowly rose from the chair. She saw her father's eyes widen, a mixture of terror, agony and unbelievable confusion layering his expression.

A small fleck of guilt flickered through her, but the sudden flashes of her father lying dead in her arms quickly scrubbed it right away.

Approaching her uncle, a feral calm coming off her in waves, she spoke to him in a deep, unforgiving tone.

"What's wrong Uncle Dee?" She sneered, taking note of how he flinched at the cold, sarcastic way as opposed to the usual warm, loving way she said his nickname. "Isn't this what you expected all along? I mean, apparently in your eyes family's obviously expendable,"

Her uncle flinched violently at her harsh words, but she continued on without missing a beat. Venom curled around her words as she felt her anger rise. "How could you do it! How could you just send dad in there to DIE?!" She saw the older hunters sobs become harsher, his breath coming out in short wheezes.

Not even that could still her fury.

"How could you force me to have to watch my own father die in my arms!" She screeched, voice becoming shrill with the intense fury that was consuming her body.

"You should have known that the plan would have never worked! HE'S THE FRIGGIN DEVIL YOU STUPID SON OF A BITCH! Did you really think that you'd have a snowballs chance on a summer's day in hell of killing him? OH! That's right, he was just supposed to lie down and die for you because you're precious fucking SAMMY was his meat puppet!"

He was looking up at her, tears of shame streaking down his face and Char continued on, voice breaking in two as she spoke.

"Uncle Dean, don't you get it? Sam. Is. Gone. No amount of hopeful wishing is going to bring him back. I mean it wasn't Sam w-who held you in their arms at age six promising you that everything would be okay while you cried yourself to sleep! It wasn't Sam who was the emotional cushion for you and dad to fall back on every time something went wrong on a mission!" Her voice quaked with raw emotion.

"It wasn't Sam who had to pry bottle after damn bottle of pills and alcohol from dads hands when he was too smashed to remember his own name! IT WAS ME!" Both her father and her uncle were now crying, obviously thinking they were indeed in hell.

Eyes flickering up to the clock, the time that stared mockingly back at her drained away any last ounce of anger that was once ruling her body, leaving only a bone deep tiredness, a sad acceptance and two miserable grown men. 7:58A.M.

Now slouched over tiredly, she said softly, though loud enough for both to hear. "It wasn't Sam fucking Winchester who sold his soul to save both of your asses. That was me to."

Both men stopped, sobs catching in their throats as their heads shot up in disbelief.

"No…" Her uncle whispered, shaking his head back and forth in denial. "N-No you're lying! C-Char would never-"

She cut him off. "Never what? Care more about her families own well-being over her own? Make a suicidal decision to save the people she loved? Sounding familiar yet?"

Her uncle just gaped up at her in horror.

Eyes sliding over to her father, she felt her heart throb as she saw him shake in misery; face scrunched up into a mask of complete and utter agony.

"H-How long?..." He choked out, eyes locked on her face.

Giving him a grim smile she spoke softly. "About another minuet. Damn thing couldn't wait to get herself a piece of this sweet ass." She joked, trying to make a situation that was the complete opposite seem humorous.

Both men's mouth dropped open into an identical mask of horror.

"Oh my God, n-"Her uncle started to whisper, but was swiftly cut off when a loud AROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO! slashed through the already tense air.

Both men went ram-rod stright, faces becoming an even more of an ashen color then before.

"They're here." She whispered out numbly.