You Found Me |Sam Winchester| [2015 Wattys Winner]

50. Lawrence, Kansas

50. Lawrence, Kansas

When I woke up the next morning, I was planted under covers in a motel bed. Dean must've carried me in, because I couldn't remember him leading me into the room. I looked to the neighboring bed to see it empty. He got an early start.

I sat up in the bed, smoothing out my hair, which didn't turn out so bad. I looked beside me and felt a pang of loneliness. The trio wasn't the same when one was possessed by Satan.

I slipped out of bed and knocked on the bathroom door. No answer. I found the bathroom unoccupied. I pressed my lips together. All right, either Dean ran out to get something, or he decided to leave me here.

I hopped into the shower. I yelped in surprise when the water was cold instead of mild or even hot. I cursed. Either he got a shower before me or someone needed to be notified of this issue. Needless to say that was the shortest shower I took in my life. I never understood how Monica loved taking them.

After rubbing myself down and dressing, I wrapped what hair I had in a towel and kept it neatly atop my head. I left the door open, and at the same time, the room door opened, and Dean came in with a few bags.

"Morning, Dak." Somehow, I heard genuine happiness in his tone.

"Morning," I said strangely.

"What? You thought I'd leave you here?"

"It had crossed my mind."

"Like you said last night, we need all the firepower we can scrape up."

I gestured to the bags. "You bought breakfast?"

"If it were up to me, I'd make it, but this place doesn't exactly have a kitchen."

"What'd you get me?"

"Take your pick, I'm not choosy about what goes in."

All of them were breakfast sandwiches. I was so hungry that I wolfed down two, much to my surprise, and Dean's. He ate whatever I didn't touch. After a while, I took the towel off my head, refolded it, and sat it back in the bathroom.

I looked into the small mirror. Though there wasn't a significant difference, I could see the changes. The bags under my eyes were a little darker. The twinkle in my eyes—not that I had much of one to begin with—was now entirely gone. I was sure whenever Sam was around he'd bring it back.

Sam...

I swallowed. I exhaled loudly, running my hands through my damp hair.

"You okay, Dak?" From the corner of my eye, Dean leaned against the bathroom's door frame.

I nodded into the mirror, having my hands on the sink. "I'll survive. Time to go?"

"Time to go."

* * *

I cracked my window a bit so I could get some fresh air. As Stull Cemetery grew closer and closer, I began to feel ill inside. I knew it was just nerves, an extreme case of them. The air was helping, but very little. But it was enough to keep me from puking in the Impala. Besides, it was either this or have Dean chew me out because I got sick in his car.

The cemetery was how you would expect one to look like: grave markers in a field of dead grass, with dirt roads. I thought back to the cemetery in Maryland, where my family was buried. This wasn't really a homecoming, to be back in a cemetery. Is this where we may end up? I didn't think we'd be buried. We were going against two angels, I doubt they'd leave others much to bury. Maybe by the end of this, Dean and I would be ash.