#jared padaleckixdaughter!reader

[the-awkward-writer]

My Angel

Pairing: Jared x daughter!Reader, the entire Supernatural Family

Word Count: 1.8k of pure angst

Warnings: ANGST. ALL THE FREAKING ANGST. swearing, childhood cancer, death of a major character

A/N: Holy shit am I sorry about this one. I actually cried multiple times whilst writing this. This is the fifth, and last fic for Angst Appreciation Day. Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me. Also HUGE shoutout to @iputthesininbuisness. They beta’d ALL of my fics for AAD and they probably hate me.

Based off of: Angel by Sarah McLachlan

x

You were surrounded by people.

Your Uncle Jensen and Aunt Danneel and their kids. Your Uncle Misha and Aunt Vicki with their kids. Your dad. Uncle Mark and Aunt Sarah with their children.

You were surrounded by people you love.

Right now, Jensen and his friend Jason Manns were singing your favorite song from their album, Simple Man.

Tears were in everyone’s eyes including your own as you smiled softly to their melody.

Everyone knew this night wouldn’t last forever, you especially. The tumor that had originated in your brain had metastasized to virtually your entire body. It was in your lungs, and bones deeming it as irreparable.

The tumor was killing you, and you were going to die.

From the day you and your father found out that the tumor had spread, the doctors had given you three months to live.

Now, exactly three months later, you were on your last night. Everyone could feel it in the air, even the children who are usually rowdy in the presence of each other were dead silent.

The entire Supernatural family was crammed into the small hospital room. They all wanted to be with you when the time finally came, lord knows you were all there for them.

“Take your time,” Jensen breathed out. He knew this line was the worst possible thing to sing in this situation, “Don’t live too fast.”

The tears forming in Jensen‘s eyes were becoming harder and harder to conceal as the lump in his throat made it hard to sing.

He swallowed as Jason continued strumming, “Troubles will come, and they will pass.”

Misha looked from Jared, to Jensen, to you. Jared watched you intently, the love and worry clear in his eyes. He loved you more than life itself. Misha knew it would kill his best friend when your time came. Jensen sang while Jason played the guitar. It was obvious it was hard for the both of them to not break down and cry. You were laid on your back in the small hospital bed. Jared was at your right side, holding your hand. Your head was turned to the left, your eyes focused on Jensen and Jason. A small smile was playing on your lips.

It took almost all of your strength to turn your head to the side. Jared gave you a soft smile and wiped his eyes of tears.

“I love you, Daddy,” you voice cracked from your dry throat.

The tears that Jared tried to hide came flowing back tenfold, “I love you too, baby. I always will.”

“I’m sorry, Daddy,” you whispered as tears of your own came flowing down your face.

Jared scooted closer to you, a large hand falling on your bald head, “There is nothing you need to be sorry for, Y/N,” Jared said fiercely, “Nothing at all. You are everything I could’ve asked for in a daughter, you understand? I love you more than anything else,” he said.

A tear fell from the corner of your eye, and you nodded. You gave him a weak smile, “Don’t be forever alone, okay?”

Jared raised an eyebrow, “I don’t know what you mean.”

You rolled your eyes, “Find someone, dad,” you said, “You’re not getting any younger,” your voice was raspy, the strain on your vocal chords obvious. “Find yourself a hot lady friend.”

Jared huffed a laugh, “You’re insane.”

“I wonder who I got that from.”

Jared’s tears fell against your hospital gown as he leaned over and kissed your forehead.

“I don’t want to see you for years, you understand?”

The dam broke behind Jared’s eyes, “I don’t think I can wait that long.”

Your eyelids became heavy. You knew the end was drawing near. “Daddy, I‘m scared.”

“I know, honey. I know.”

“Does it hurt?”

Jared shook his head, “Quicker and easier than falling asleep.”

“You’re not Sirius Black; how do you know?”

“Because all the pain that you’re feeling now will be gone. You’ll be in your happy place. You’ll be happy.”

“But I’m happy here. I want to stay here with you guys.”

“I know, baby. But sometimes you need to let go,“ The words Jared was saying almost killed him, but his baby girl was in pain, and she needed relief.

“I love you, Daddy,” you could feel your heart rate slowing, “I love all of you guys,” you tried to say slightly louder so everyone could hear you.

Almost everyone nodded or hummed, they heard you. They know you love them, and you know they love you.

That was all you ever wanted, so you did as your father said.

You let go.

Your body shuddered as you drew in your last breath and released it.

Jared watched as your chest fell. He was waiting for it to rise again, but it never did; it never would. The long drawn out beep from your heart monitor only confirmed his worst fears.

His baby girl was dead.

He took your small, pale hand in his much larger ones, and pressed his forehead to his knuckles as sobs wracked his body.

Danneel pressed her hand to her mouth, trying to contain her own tears. She looked over to her husband to see tears flowing down his face.

Misha’s crestfallen face soon had his own tears sliding down to his chin, not stopping until they got to the collar of his shirt.

The entire room was in tears.

But no one more than Jared.

His entire body shook with the force of his cries.

The only thought running through his head was enough to send him through a downward spiral lasting for years:

My daughter is dead.

Jared sat at the first pew, just staring.

The service had been done with for over an hour, and everyone had left him alone.

He looked at the small casket, the memories flying around in his brain, burning him with nostalgia.

The first time Jared saw you, you were in a baby carrier on his front steps.

There was a piece of paper pinned to your shirt with a name and date scrawled across it.

‘Y/N Padalecki’ it said. ‘07/23/02′

Next to your carrier was a diaper bag filled with clothes, diapers, bottles, formula, and large manila envelope.

Jared took you inside his house and set the carrier down on the kitchen island.

He opened the manila envelope, pulling out its contents.

Inside there were six things.

One, your birth certificate. Two, a paternity test proving that the child in the car seat was his. Three, a picture of the baby next to a woman that Jared vaguely remembered. Four, a letter addressed to Jared. Five, a letter addressed to Y/N Padalecki. Six, signed custody papers from a courthouse in Texas.

Jared opened the letter first. The letter described the night two people met. The two people being Jared and this mystery woman. The letter told Jared that this mystery woman stole a toothpick from Jared’s trailer trashcan and used it later to prove Jared’s paternity. The letter then described the predicament the baby’s mother was in. She is a drug addict and can’t take care of a baby. She grew up in an orphanage, and didn’t want to put her child through the same things, so she dropped the baby off on Jared’s front step. The letter said that there was another letter with Y/N’s name on it, and she wanted Y/N to open it when she turned 18. It was signed by a person named Becca Wilson.

Jared looked from the white college ruled paper filled with black ink, to the sleeping baby in the car seat.

Jared could see the resemblances. You had his nose and hair. Your eyes were not yet open so he couldn’t see the color of your eyes.

Seconds later, your eyes fluttered open, and in an instant, Jared knew that he couldn’t let you go. You had his eyes.

Jared ran a hand down his face. He never regretted his decision to take you in. You were his daughter. No matter what.

Even when you were ten, and the doctor spoke those horrible words, Jared never wanted to let you go.

The doctor knocked on the door. Jared voiced a quiet “Come in.”

Your migraines were getting worse as the days wore on, so Jared finally took you to your pediatrician.

The doctor took off his glasses and rubbed his aged face with his right hand.

“Mr. Padalecki,” he said as he replaced his glasses. “Y/N has a tumor in her brain.”

Jared felt the air being punched out of his gut at those words.

His baby girl had cancer.

He held you close to his chest that night as you slept. After the doctor’s appointment, and scheduling a consultation with a pediatric oncologist, you and Jared went home to watch a marathon of cheesy movies and pig out on ice cream.

That night, as he held your small frame, he cried.

He cried and prayed to a God he’s not sure he believes in to spare your life.

You were the greatest kid Jared knew, and he wasn’t just saying that because you were his daughter.

You were kind and caring and compassionate. You were understanding of Jared’s depression and helped him get through it.

He wanted to walk you down the aisle, and threaten the boys that you brought home. He wanted to protect you for the rest of his life.

Jared buried his face in his hands. “God, Y/N,” he choked out. “I’m so sorry sweetheart. I wish I could have done more to protect you.” His voice broke and he was yet again reduced to tears.

He jumped as he felt a hand land on his back. Through tear filled eyes, he could see his best friend.

Jensen sat down next to Jared. Jared’s body shook as a sob was ripped from his body. Without a second thought, Jensen wrapped his arms around his best friend’s neck, bringing his head to his chest, “It's going to get better,” Jensen found it hard to speak around the lump in his throat. “I promise.”

Years after your death, Jared listened to your words, and found himself a hot lady friend.

Her name is Genevieve Cortese.

Well, Padalecki now.

Jared had three kids with her. Two boys and a little girl.

All throughout their childhood, Jared’s kids knew about their big sister, watching them from Heaven

And when the famous actor and generous man died of old age, you jumped happily into your father’s arms.

“I see you took my advice,” you said with a smile.

please don't kill me

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