Heart of a Hunter

3: Broken Pieces

Blair's POV

I didn't sleep much.

Lying on the stiff motel bed, the blanket pulled tightly around me, I kept staring at the ceiling. My body was exhausted, aching in places I hadn't even realized were hurt, but my mind wouldn't shut off. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw it all over again- the fire, the blood, the screams. My family.

Gone.

The grief came in waves, crashing over me, leaving me breathless. One minute, I was numb, like I'd left my body entirely. The next, I was choking on sobs I tried to hold in, my heart squeezing in my chest until it hurt. I wanted to scream, to hit something, anything to make the pain stop, but I couldn't. I didn't have the strength. I just laid there, broken. 

And Sam. I couldn't stop thinking about him.

He had barely left my side since they found me. Even now, I could hear his steady breathing from the other bed, just a few feet away. It should have been comforting, knowing he was close, but instead, it made me feel guilty. They had saved me, but I wasn't sure why. I wasn't worth the trouble. 

I rolled over, glancing at Sam through the darkness. His tall frame was stretched out across the bed, one arm thrown over his eyes, the other resting by his side. Even asleep, he looked... I don't know. Peaceful, maybe? In control. I couldn't imagine feeling that way ever again.

He didn't know what to do with me. I could see it in the way he watched me, like he was afraid I might shatter at any moment. And maybe I would.

But the truth was, Sam made me feel something I hadn't expected: safe. It was weird, given everything that had happened, but just being near him made me think that maybe- just maybe- I could get through this. And that scared me, because I didn't want to depend on someone else to save me. Not again. I couldn't take it if something happened to him too.

I couldn't take losing anyone else.

I turned my face into the pillow, trying to push the thoughts away. But all I could think about was how his hands had been so gentle when he'd bandaged my side, how his voice had softened when he spoke to me, like he actually cared. I barely knew him, and yet...

God, what was wrong with me?

I forced myself to sit up, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. The motel room was dimly lit by the flickering neon sign outside the window, casting the space in a dull orange glow. Dean was snoring lightly from the chair in the corner, one leg propped up on the table like he owned the place. I had to give it to him- he was relaxed for a guy who had seen the same monsters I had. 

I envied him for that.

My eyes landed on the door, and suddenly I couldn't sit there any longer. I needed air. Space. Anything to clear my head. Quietly, I stood and made my way to the door, careful not to wake either of them. The cold metal knob felt steady in my hand, grounding me for just a second. When I pushed the door open, the chill night air hit me like a slap, but I welcomed it. Anything to remind me I was still alive.

I stepped outside and leaned against the railing, wrapping my arms around myself. The stars overhead were faint, dimmed by the orange glow of the parking lot lights. There was nothing out here- no noise, no chaos. Just silence.

I felt like the world had stopped, and maybe it had, for me at least.

I didn't hear him at first, but the soft creak of the door caught my attention. I turned just in time to see Sam step out, his tall frame silhouetted in the doorway.

"You okay?" he asked, his voice low, thick with sleep. He had that same look on his face again- like he was trying to figure out what to say, but didn't want to push too hard.

I forced a small smile, even though I knew it wouldn't fool him. "Yeah. Just couldn't sleep."

He nodded, like he understood. He probably did. He leaned against the railing next to me, his hands gripping the cold metal, his body taking up more space than it should. For a guy that big, he was quiet, careful with his movements. Like he didn't want to take up too much room.

We stood there in silence for a minute, the only sound the faint hum of the motel sign buzzing above us. I could feel him glancing at me, but I didn't look up. I wasn't sure what he saw when he looked at me- just a broken girl, I guess.

"You don't have to stay out here." I said finally, my voice cutting the silence.

"I don't mind" He replied softly.

Of course he didn't. That was the thing about Sam- he was kind in a way that felt rare, like he genuinely wanted to help. Not because it was his job, but because he cared. And that made it harder to build the walls I needed to survive. 

"I don't know how to do this." I admitted, my voice cracking as I spoke. The words came out before I could stop them. "I don't know how to move on."

Sam was quiet for a long time, but he didn't look away. "You don't have to right now." he said, his voice soft but steady. "Just take it one step at a time."

I closed my eyes, trying to hold it together. One step at a time. That was easier said than done.

"I keep seeing it" I whispered, finally letting the words spill out. "The fire, the blood. My family- they were right there, and I couldn't do anything."

The tears burned at the corners of my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. I wouldn't break down, not here, not in front of him. But Sam didn't move, didn't say anything to try to fix it. He just stayed next to me, his presence steady and comforting. And that was enough.

"I've lost people too." He said quietly after a long pause. His voice low, rough, like he was pushing the words out through something heavy. "I know how much it hurts. And I know it doesn't go away, not really. But you're not alone in this. You don't have to go through it alone."

His words hit me harder than I expected. I didn't want to be alone. I didn't wan to carry this weight by myself, but I was terrified of what might happen if I let someone in, if I let myself care again.

But standing there, with Sam so close, I felt something shift. Maybe it was the way he spoke, like he understood what I was feeling without me having to say it. Maybe it was the way he didn't try to fix me, didn't try to make promises he couldn't keep. Or maybe it was just him- the way he seemed to care so much, even when I couldn't find a reason why he should.

For the first time since the attack, I felt like I could breathe, even if just a little. I wasn't okay. I wasn't even close. But Sam was right. 

I wasn't alone.

 And for now, that was enough.