Heart of a Hunter

6: The Weight We Carry

                                           Sam's POV:

Blair was quiet as we drove. Not that I blamed her. If I'd gone through what she had, I wouldn't be in much of a talking mood either. But every time I glanced at her in the rearview mirror, there was this tightness in my chest, a feeling I couldn't shake. She looked so small back there, curled up in my jacket, staring out the window like she was seeing something else entirely. Something none of us could pull her out of.

Dean was humming to himself, flipping through stations on the radio, trying to find something other than static. He didn't look back at Blair much, but I knew he was keeping an eye on her too, in his own way. Dean didn't do emotions—at least, not like I did—but he had his own methods. He'd crack a joke or throw out a sarcastic comment, anything to distract from the darkness creeping up behind us. It worked sometimes.

Other times, not so much.

I glanced over at Dean, who finally settled on a classic rock station. The opening chords of Back in Black filled the Impala, and he shot me a sideways grin. "Told you, Sammy. This is the only station worth listening to."

I shook my head, smiling a little despite myself. "Yeah, yeah. Can't argue with AC/DC."

Dean thumped his hand on the steering wheel, clearly pleased with himself, but I could feel his gaze flick over to Blair again, just for a second. He wasn't ignoring the situation. He just had a different way of handling it.

The road stretched out ahead of us, long and empty. We'd left the motel behind hours ago, but we didn't really have a destination yet. Dean and I hadn't talked much about what the next step was. There was still a lot we didn't know about what had attacked Blair's family, or why. But that could wait. Right now, Blair needed time to process, and I wasn't going to push her until she was ready.

I glanced back again. She hadn't touched her coffee since we got in the car, and the way she was staring out the window... it was like she was a million miles away.

"Blair," I said softly, not wanting to startle her. "You okay back there?"

She blinked, her eyes snapping to mine in the mirror. For a second, I saw something flicker in them—fear, maybe? Or just exhaustion. She looked like she hadn't slept in weeks.

"Yeah," she murmured, but her voice didn't carry much conviction. "I'm fine."

I wasn't sure if I believed her. Scratch that—I knew I didn't. But I wasn't going to press her. Not yet. Instead, I nodded and turned my attention back to the road, giving her the space she seemed to need.

Dean shifted in his seat, clearly debating whether or not to speak. I could practically feel the tension rolling off him. He didn't like quiet drives like this, especially when there was something heavy hanging over us. I could already tell he was going to break the silence with something blunt and probably inappropriate.

"You know," Dean started, glancing at me before turning his head slightly toward the backseat, "if you keep zoning out like that, you're gonna miss the best part of the drive."

Blair didn't respond right away. I could see her thinking about it, like she wasn't sure how to react. Eventually, she gave a small shrug. "I'm not really sure what the 'best part' would be right now."

Dean snorted. "Well, it's definitely not your brooding silence. Maybe the scenery, though. You'll love the way the clouds look right before it rains—real apocalyptic, if you're into that sort of thing."

I shot Dean a look, but he just grinned, like he'd said exactly what he meant to. And maybe he had. Dean's way of breaking through the darkness was always a little abrasive, but sometimes it worked.

Blair let out a small breath, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at her lips. It wasn't much, but it was something. Progress, maybe.

"Thanks, Dean," she said softly, leaning back against the seat. "I'll keep an eye out for the clouds."

Dean winked at me, his job done, then turned the music up a little louder, tapping his fingers to the beat. I could feel the tension ease just a bit, like Blair wasn't drowning quite so much in her own thoughts anymore. Dean had a way of pulling people out of their heads, even if they didn't want to be pulled.

But still, something in me wasn't settled. Maybe it was because I knew what was coming—the questions, the pain that would surface once the adrenaline of the past few days wore off. I'd been through enough to know that the quiet moments were the ones where it all caught up to you. And Blair... she was already starting to crumble under the weight of it all.

I wanted to say something, anything, to help her. But I didn't know what the right thing was. I'd been through my own version of hell—losing Jess, losing Dad—but everyone handles loss differently. And I didn't want to make it worse by offering some hollow words of comfort.

So I stayed quiet, just listening to the music and the hum of the Impala beneath us.

After a while, Blair shifted in the backseat. "What happens next?" she asked, her voice tentative, like she wasn't sure she really wanted to know.

Dean glanced at me, letting me take the lead on this one. I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "We'll figure out what came after your family. Why it did. And then..." I hesitated. "Then we make sure it doesn't happen to anyone else."

Blair's green eyes locked onto mine in the mirror. "And if it's still out there?"

"We'll stop it," I said, my voice firmer than I intended. "No matter what."

She nodded, though I could see the uncertainty in her eyes. She wanted to believe me—I could tell. But after what she'd been through, I wasn't sure she could. Not yet.

"I just... don't want anyone else to get hurt because of me," she whispered, her voice so low I almost didn't hear her.

Dean snorted, shaking his head. "Trust me, sweetheart, whatever's out there didn't do this because of you. These things—monsters, demons, whatever—they don't care about who's involved. They just do what they do. You didn't ask for this."

Blair looked away, staring back out the window, but I could see her jaw tighten. "It doesn't matter," she murmured. "They're still dead. And I'm still here."

My stomach twisted at the pain in her voice. I wanted to tell her she was wrong, that it wasn't her fault, that sometimes people were just caught in the crossfire. But the truth was, no matter what I said, she'd still feel that weight. Guilt had a way of latching on, digging deep into you until it became part of who you were. I knew that better than anyone.

Dean's knuckles tightened around the steering wheel, and for once, he didn't have a quick retort. He just stared ahead, jaw clenched, letting the music fill the silence again.

I shifted in my seat, turning toward Blair slightly. "I know it feels like you're alone in this," I said quietly. "Like there's no way to come out of it without feeling broken. But you're not alone. You've got us. We'll figure this out together."

She didn't say anything, but I could see her fingers clenching the fabric of my jacket a little tighter.

Dean cleared his throat, breaking the tension. "Alright, enough with the chick-flick moment, huh?" He glanced at me, smirking. "Sam's right, though. We've got this. One monster at a time."

Blair finally gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. She didn't say it, but the way she settled back into the seat, just a little more relaxed, told me everything I needed to know.

She was still hurting. Still scared. But she was here.

And for now, that was enough.