𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒 | 𝘑𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘒𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦

the death of a friend

(pls comment and vote)

~

Her heart felt like it had stopped beating. The life had left her lungs and body swiftly and although she were still breathing, it reduced her to gasping for one little bit of oxygen. Her eyes, of the purest blue, were darker and the whites were tainted red with unshed tears. She couldn't even bring herself to blink as she felt her knees buckle, her body crashing to the ground where her hands subconsciously moved to keep her propped up.

"No." She whispered delicately, afraid to even speak. Her blonde hair had been thrown up into a ponytail, but there were small strays of hair that now fell beside her youthful face. The body in front of her only brought more sadness to her soul the more she looked at him, but when her gaze traveled upwards and settled on a spot not far from her, the sadness only intensified. Until it overflowed.

Tears ran down her cheeks at a ferocious pace, her chest heaving as soft yet heart-wrenching sobs left her body. Her bones couldn't help but shake in overwhelming grief before her soft sobs soon turned into screams of emotional pain. She had lost too many people, almost to the point of losing count.

As her screams of grief grew louder and more uncontrollable, a pair of strong and safe arms wrapped themselves around her shoulders as a body fell to its knees beside her. Dean Winchester hugged his daughter tightly, their grief one-in-the-same as the body before them was a dear friend.

The sorched wings imprinted into the ground only added to their sadness as they realised, for once, the angelic man on the floor in front of them would not be coming back. Such a daunting thought made Dean grip his child even tighter, begging to the dickwad of a God to help them out. After all, he had done it before.

But soon, Daphne Winchester's cries lessened, and she dragged herself to her feet with a swift motion whilst gently removing her father's arm from around her shoulders. She sucked in a deep breath, looked towards the sweet, dead, trench-coat wearing Angel before she sighed and turned. Her feet gravitated towards the home that wasn't too far away, and she began to pick up her pace. It soon turned into a jog, her body desperate to shield her unsteady emotions from the sight of the fallen man.

Her boots slapped against the ground as she finally entered the home with irregular breaths. She wasn't unfit, but it felt like she was going to sob at any second. And, for once, she did not want her father to comfort her. How could he when he also had to deal with the pain of losing such a dear friend? Daphne didn't even think that her Uncle Sam could help her, but she didn't know much at this point.

She thought her Angelic friend, Castiel, was invincible. He had been brought back from the dead several times, and each time he hugged her tightly as though she were a missing piece of his own soul, but in reality, Castiel preferred the youngest Winchester to the older men. He found her patience in explaining things rather soothing, and he had known her since she was ten. He liked to think he had a small part to play in how she grew up throughout her teens, although she wasn't out of adolescence just yet.

"Uncle S-Sammy?!" Her voice cracked with raw emotion, her throat coarse after her screams of grief-filled agony. Her blue eyes widened when she didn't hear a response, but as she went to call out once again, the man she sought replied.

"In here." His voice seemed anxious and slightly on edge, but Daphne overlooked that for the time being. She walked towards the room she heard his voice inside of quickly, desperate for a comforting embrace from her Uncle, and yet her emotional needs were put on halt as soon as her foot entered the threshold of the room.

The room was dark with almost no lighting, and yet in the corner of the room was an eighteen-year-old looking boy, naked and with glowing amber eyes. His face was contorting into one of confusion, and yet it flickered between Daphne and Sam. When it fell to the former for a moment, she couldn't help but feel a tug in her chest, as though a rope had contorted around it and tightened it quickly. She went to wince, but the burning of her heart subsided and she was left to glare.