Maybe Someday; Sam Winchester

Chapter Ninety-One

The blood falling down the demon's chest didn't faze Sam in the slightest. All this talk for a demon who was absolutely petrified, despite the hard game it was playing. Sam could see right through the demon. He could see it silently begging for him to have mercy. No mercy. At least, not in this situation.

"Where is Crowley," Sam demanded, holding up the bloody blade he'd been using as his torture device. Even with only one hand available due to an accident with another demon while him and Dean were out interrogating, he still managed to tie the demon's hands up and leave it defenseless.

"Eat me," the demon spat back, making Sam tilt his head up slightly in amusement. He hums softly, giving the demon a mocking grin as he walks a couple steps towards the demon. The demon keeps its poker face up until Sam stabs the blade in its abdomen without warning. The demon groans in agony in response.

"One more time," Sam says sternly. "Where is Crowley?" When the demon is silent for a beat, Sam twists the blade, making the demon scream in pain. "Where's my wife?" He demands.

"I don't know!" It yells.

Sam pulls the blade out, bringing it up to the demon's neck. "Then you're gonna call somebody who does." The demon screams again as Sam slices a slit in its neck, making blood come pouring out. He's quick to press a small cup up against the blood, urging it to fall inside the cup.

"No one knows!" The demon cries. "Th-They won't answer!"

"Make the call," Sam orders.

"We're under orders!"

"Make the call!" Sam repeats loudly.

The demon begins to cry, begging for him to stop, but whatever snapped in him when she disappeared resurfaced and a whole new persona came as he threw the cup and gripped onto the demon's face harshly.

"Where's my wife?!"

⛧⛧⛧

He went in the room sometimes. Those times were rare, but they happened. Especially when he let Stella crawl around and walked behind her as she led the way. Most of those times ended up with her sitting right in front of the door and looking up at Sam, repeating "Mama, Mama" over and over again like if she knew.

Most days, he would frown and pick up Stella and take her to the other side of the bunker where Dean and Diana's room was, but this day in particular, he stepped behind Stella as she looked up at him with her big brown eyes and watched as he twisted the knob and pushed open the door.

The room is dark with only the light from the hallway illuminating part of the room and the bed. Still, the second it opens, he already feels the dread he felt when he came back and found her gone. When the door opens wider, Stella goes back on all fours and begins to crawl inside the room, having no fear of the darkness that swallowed the room.

Sam is about to call Stella and stop her, but she's already on the side of the bed and pulling herself up with the mattress. Sam frowns, reaching over with his good arm and flipping on the light switch, bringing light into the room that's been dark for the past month.

Everything was frozen in place. The cup she used for her water was left on her nightstand, still filled a quarter of the way with water. There was still a faint scent of her shampoo, even though the last time they were in there, all of them smelled like sweat and their own blood. It was a mix of something sweet and lavender. It was always his favorite and always told her that it was.

He walked further into the room, eying Stella and then looking over at the note left on the pillow. He'd read it over a million times and nothing in his mind could even comprehend the four words that were scrawled carelessly. And he refused to because then it meant she was gone. She wasn't and she won't be.

But the note stared at him like if it was mocking him. Daring him to read it again.

He grabbed it gingerly with his good hand and opened it, immediately being filled with regret at not being there for her more.

Take care of Stella.

Her words were written in her usual semi-cursive/script handwriting. Easy to read, hard to understand how she goes from cursive to normal and back to cursive.

Sam glances up at his daughter, finding her no longer at the opposite side of the bed, but she crawls around the front until she's at Sam's feet and sitting, starting to suck on her fingers. Sam wants to take her fingers out, knowing that she was just crawling all over the floor, but he sighs sadly, folding the paper back over and setting it back on the pillow.

"Mama, mama, mama," Stella repeated quietly, her eyes fixated on another part of the room. She probably didn't even know what she was saying or who her mama was, but it being her first word, she never stopped saying it. "Hi, bay-bee," she said out, looking up at Sam.

Sam's heart ached at the sound, his eyes starting to sting when they landed on the framed photo on his nightstand of them right after they got married at the courthouse. It felt like a reminder of his failure to her and to Stella. Sam looked down at his daughter again as she began to tug on Sam's pants as she stood up, holding onto the jeans in between her fingers. But still, his lips quirked at the ends as she repeated the words Diana told her every time they were in each other's presence.

Sam sighed sadly, watching her let go of his pants and hold onto the mattress, patting it with the hand that wasn't gripping the top blanket. He didn't realize he was crying until he felt the tear fall down his jaw and onto the back of his hand that was held up in the cast. He cleared his throat, already walking around his daughter.

     "Dada, Dada," she kept muttering to herself. Even though Sam spent a lot of his time working on finding anything to help her, the rest of his time was spent with Stella and helping her learn more and more words and descriptions. Stella was incredibly smart and already talked in almost sentences with everyone and everyone absolutely adored talking with Stella. They used it to remind her of her mom and told her stories so she wouldn't forget about her.

"C'mon," he muttered to her quietly, reaching the door. "Stella," he said again when he didn't hear her crawling towards him. "Stel-"

She wasn't crawling.

She was walking.

Wobbly and not very well, but one foot was going in front of the other and she wasn't holding on to anything for support. Sam gasped softly, turning his full attention towards her and walked a couple more steps in. And though she started talking before walking, she was already on her way to getting to the two-year-old milestones.

He crouched when she stopped for a beat, swaying slightly as she tried to maintain her balance, but grinned up at Sam when she took a few more steps into his outstretched arm. Sam sniffled, pressing kisses onto her cheeks, listening to her squeal and laughter.

She was completely oblivious to the sadness that filled his chest. She doesn't know how her mom was supposed to be there to see her first steps. She doesn't know where her mom is. "Dada!" she exclaimed through laughter.

That thought alone pangs Sam's chest and the sudden motivation and need to find her is so much more apparent. He wasn't going to let her miss any more of Stella's milestones. She's already missed Stella's first steps and Stella's words after "mama". He wouldn't let her miss anything that follows.

     "Dada, walking!" Stella exclaimed with a big, proud grin. She'd been trying to walk all week and backed out last minute when she was about to.

     "I know, baby," Sam told her, holding back his tears. "I'm so proud of you," he strains, not stopping the tear that falls.

     Stella frowns, reaching up and wiping away the tear. "Dada crying?" She says, leaving her hand on his face, scratching her hand with the few day scruff. "Why?"

     Sam sniffles, leaning down and pressing his forehead against Stella's. "I'm okay," he reassures. "I'm just happy," he lies. But Stella smiles, basically mirroring his features as he smiles. The less she knows, the better. "Love you, baby," he tells her.

     "Love you, bay-bee," she repeats.

     Sam sniffles again, hugging her tightly with the only arm he has.

He's going to find Cielo. And he's going to find her quick. And he's going to bring her home.