Things We Lost in the Fire

43. We Need to Talk About Kevin

ONE YEAR LATER

100 Mile Wilderness, Maine

A young man and woman were asleep in a tent. A bright light appeared outside and the woman instantly sat up and shook the man. "Will, get up. Something just happened."

The light outside disappeared and they heard footsteps approaching the tent. A tall figure walked past.

"Go. Go do something," the woman said.

Will turned to her. "W-what are we supposed to..." He grabbed a flashlight and went outside the tent. "Hello? Hello?" He stood for a moment, pointing his flashlight into the darkness. "It was a couple deer." He turned back to the tent door. "I don't know. It was like -- it was a deer or something-" He heard a noise and turned around and gasped. "Oh!"

Dean stood there, bloodstained and dirty, holding an axe-like weapon, standing in front of him.

"Where am I?" Dean demanded.

"What?" Will asked.

The woman walked out of the tent and Dean cocked a gun at her, then pointed it at Will.

"W -- hey, hey."

"Where's the road?" Dean questioned.

Will pointed. "Twelve miles, that way."

Dean kept his gun pointed at the couple, grabbed a backpack from the ground and ran off.

Clayton, Louisiana

FOUR DAYS LATER

An orange pickup came to a stop and Dean got out. The driver pointed directions. Dean walked down the road, holding his left arm.

By the time night arrived, he reached a stone pillar marking land that said 'Lafitte'. Dean read the sign and he walked onto the land. He carried a shovel and was still holding his left arm. He paced slowly and purposefully from a windmill.

"This better be you, you son of a bitch," Dean muttered.

He started digging and grunted in pain. Eventually, when it was deep enough, he threw the shovel down. He hoisted himself to sit on the edge of the grave and held his left arm. "All right."

Dean stood up over the grave. "Hold on, you bastard." He rolled up his left sleeve to reveal his red, glowing forearm. "Hold on!"

Dean cut his left arm with a large knife. "Anima corpori..." he held his arm out over the grave and the red growing liquid dripped from his arm onto the bones, "Fuerit corps... totem resurgent."

He groaned in pain as light played over the bones. As the light vanished, he dropped to the ground. "Wow." He rolled down his sleeve, still gasping in pain.

A man appeared behind him.

"Wow. That was fast," Dean stated bluntly.

The man looked at Dean. "No thanks to you. The hell took you so long?"

Dean got to his feet, still holding his arm. "You're welcome."

The man cracked his neck and Dean asked, "Everything working?"

"Good enough," the man replied, opening his mouth wide, revealing his vampire teeth. They retracted as he closed his mouth. "So... what now?"

"Like we talked about, I guess."

The man nodded. "Then this is goodbye."

"Keep your nose clean, Benny," Dean said. "You hear me?"

Benny walked towards Dean, holding out his hand and they shook. "We made it brother. I can't believe it." He laughed and pulled Dean into a hug.