I do not own Supernatural and the characters on here; just Violet!
Please review!

Watching as Bobby lowered Dean's body down the hole, there was nothing else to do but let the streaming tears fall. This was the last time anyone was ever going to see him again, and yet, there were only three people at this so called 'funeral'; Sam, Bobby, and me, Violet. Sam Winchester was Dean Winchester's brother, so it's only obvious that he'd attend the mini funeral. As for Bobby, he's been like a father to the brother's basically all their lives. And as for me, I am…was…Dean's fiancé. Yes the legendary Dean Winchester was actually going to get married; it was a shock to everyone, including me, when he proposed. In all honesty I believe he proposed only because he knew he had a year left to live, but at the time, I had not known that fact. But I know in my heart even if I had known, I still would have agreed to the proposal; I'll always love him.

"Vi." Sam's voice rang in my head as I continued to stare at the now filled hole where Dean's lifeless body lay. I couldn't answer, I couldn't speak. It was as if every system in my body had shut down and I was completely numb. In front of me Sam stood, blocking my view of Dean's grave, but I still saw it, like a tattoo on my eye. "Violet please look at me." Now Sam was begging as he held onto my shoulders. Somehow I was able to avert my gaze to Sam's face. In doing so, I realized my tears had faltered.

I didn't speak, but I knew he could feel all the pain boiling inside me. "We should get going," Bobby said after throwing the shovels in his car. Sam nodded and made his way over to Dean's baby, his '67 dark blue Impala. But I continued to stare at the handmade wooden cross Bobby had put above the grave. Half of me actually wanted to walk with Sam, go to Bobby's and wake up from this terrible nightmare, but I couldn't. The longer I stared, the more I felt my sanity fall.

"Violet you coming?" Now Sam was by my side again, and this time I looked to him without hesitation. I nodded, already making my way to the car. Entering, there were so many memories that flooded my mind; like the time Dean and I traveled all the way to Ocean City, Maryland only because we heard they had the best whiskey. Or the one time we went to Rhode Island because it was the only state neither of us had had sex in. Many more filled my mind but I tried desperately to suppress it.

When Sam got into the car, he sighed before turning it on. "Wanna go get a drink?" I looked at him, my answer written all over my face. "To the bar we go," he said, pressing the gas. Nothing was said during the car ride, just side glances from Sam – I'm guessing to make sure I was still alive, but I wasn't, not by a long shot. Dean was dead, my parents are long gone, I had no friends, and all who are left are Sam and Bobby. But that was the life of a hunter, losing the ones you love.

It's funny really. When someone thinks about death, they think about the person and possibly how you would feel. But no impersonated feeling can compare to the actual pain endured when that tragic filled moment occurs. When it actually happens, it's like a part of you dies with that person. Like a black hole is left and nothing, no light, is able to refill that spot. It's almost as if experiencing death while living.

"We're here." We must have been there for a while since the car was off and the windows were already starting to fog up. It startled me to know that Sam was probably watching me the whole time, but that emotion quickly subsided when I remembered the refreshing beverages waiting for me inside.

"Thank God," I said, getting out of the cramped car. It was very disappointing that the first words out of my mouth after Dean's death was 'thank God', especially since He was the one who took away the love of my life. Well, not entirely, but He could have prevented it from happening. If there was even one, why on earth, after everything we've been through, would He let something else happen? "Whiskey." The bartender nodded and gathered shot glasses as well as the liquid itself. Sam sat next to me, a worried look on his face. I could tell he wanted to say something, even protest to what I was planning on doing, but he kept his mouth shut.

"And for you?" the bartender asked Sam. I didn't bother to listen to what he ordered since I was too indulged with the chugging of the very sweet taste of the whiskey pouring down my throat. And while I mentally congratulated myself for finishing all the shot glasses the bartender had laid out for me, I could feel Sam's stare burning a hole into my skin.

"Drinking isn't going to bring him back, Violet." Sam's voice sang in my head, making the ache in my head pound even worse to consider it a migraine. I knew this, I knew drinking wasn't going to bring him back, but I did it anyway. While thinking about what Sam had said, I slammed my glass down; it shattering to pieces on contact with the counter.

"Don't you think I know that?" I growled through my teeth. "Don't you think I know there is no way for him to come back?"

"No Violet, I don't. I know how you get when you get depressed; you get angry – you get even. But there's nothing to get even for. It's his fault that he went like that, so if you wanna get even with him, kill yourself…" He couldn't finish his sentence, he couldn't finish his rampage; I took matters into my own hands, literally. I watched Sam as he held his cheek, anger and sorrow lingering in his eyes.

"How dare you." I got to my feet and stormed out the bar knowing full well if I would have stayed, the whole whiskey bottle would have been the next thing to shatter into pieces – over Sam's head. But it didn't matter, Sam followed me outside anyway.

"Don't you dare leave like that!" Turning, I focused my thoughts on Sam, making him cry out in pain.

"Who do you think you are to say it was his fault this happened; he sacrificed himself to save you. He knew exactly what he was doing when he brought you back, so don't take his name in vain." With every step I took closer, the more pain we heard in his screams. "He sacrificed himself for you," I repeated. "What a mistake that was." My intentions were to turn around and walk. Walk away, walk everywhere and anywhere, but when I turned to make my exit, I was thrown back. This wasn't like any demon I had seen before; this one was female and had distinct markings all over her body. And that very demon jump on top of me, pinned my arms, and blew some weird smoke from her mouth, causing me to breathe it in. Next thing I knew, she fell onto me, lifeless, the result of Sam throwing Ruby's knife. In the distance, I saw two other demons, looking very disappointed. But as quickly as I saw them was as quickly as they vanished into a ball of white smoke; the same smoke that was blown into my nasal passageways.

"Are you okay?" Sam asked, bending down to help me. But I couldn't respond since my lungs were full of that bitches smoke, making me almost cough them out. Giving him a glare, he pulled my arm, lifting me to my feet.

"Does it look like I'm okay?" Pausing to cough, I looked around to see if the demons were around.

"What were they?"