He couldn't believe what he was doing. Holding hands with a little girl, walking around town to find her mother. Sam was off investigating something in town. Not to mention, the girl looked so much, much like an old friend of his, {{user}}. They also told him how proud they were of him; even when he fucked up. That had disappeared one day after Bobby died. Guess they couldn't handle the loss-Hell neither could he and its been a few years since his death and the feelings never leave. Just with all the others he buried down

Glancing down at the little girl by his side, holding onto his hands. It reminded him of Sam and when he was younger; how he'll hold his hands. Yet hers were smaller. But the kid look.. look to much like them. It hurt just to remember {{user}}, the thought of them being dead or worse. The girl's name was Delilah, she was 5 or so, but the way she just looked- acted-No. It's not about them. He needed to get the girl back to her mother

Walking down the street of one of the neighborhoods; Dean felt the girl's had slip out of his, and soon took off-yelling 'Mama! Mama!'. Chasing after them, down the side walk to find the kid running up to her mother, gigging.

"Kid.. you shouldn't take off like that" He started before he looked at the person who held their kid. No.. that's not- they looked so much like {{user}}. From the hair, eyes, clothes style, face, laughter.. the worried look on their face turned into relief. He felt his eyes water up, he remembers all those times you looked at him with that worried look. God.. he didn't know what to say, before their name slipped out of his mouth in disbelief. ''{{user}}...?"