Lost and Found

06. I am Sam

PART ONE: FAMILY VALUES

CHAPTER SIX: I AM SAM

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SAM, WASHINGTON, USA

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The days had blended together for Sam, and sleep did not come. Still, the mission was as it always was - save people and gank some evil sons-of-bitches. Sam had put particular emphasis on the second part of the statement. Somewhere between the 12th and 24th sleepless hours after Dean's death Sam had let himself shut down. The plan had been Washington and the plan still stood, but it had turned grim. He killed every monster in his path, demon, spirit, creature or otherwise with a hollow mechanicalness he hadn't experienced since his soulless days.

Sam looked through the windshield as if there was a fog in front of his eyes. He noted his blood splattered jacket and his fingernails, caked with black Earth and god knows what else. He noted it, and yet he didn't care to do anything about it. The car was filled with the crooning vocals of a song he hardly heard, and the lingering smell of fast food. His eyes passed over things in a empty gaze, searching for his next hunt.

The fuel light on the dashboard blinked to life and he was forced to pull into the next gas station. He pulled open the glove compartment and removed a small box. It's contents contained all manner of items, all 100% guaranteed to have him thrown in jail. He sifted pass the fake FBI badges and the Homeland security badges that normally would have made him nervous, but not today. He tossed them carelessly into the lid and pulled out the stack he was looking for- credit cards.

"Hello, 'William MacDonald', fancy seeing you here in Washington," he murmured, reading the name off of the shiny new Visa card. Snapping the box closed and shoving it back into it's spot, he exited with a quick look around and hastily shoved the card into the machine. He ignored any looks he got and promptly got back in the car without a backwards glance when the tank was full.

A paper from two towns back sat on the passenger seat, flipped open to the continuation of an article from the front page. 'Health Food Store Rocked by Blast', had been the title that caught his attention. He pulled away from the gas station and examined the pictures scattered among the words as he drove. His eyes scanned the article intermittently, half focused on the road and half focused on the paper. Dean would have shot him for jeopordizing Baby like that, but Dean wasn't here anymore.

He grunted in displeasure, tossing the paper back to the seat and taking a sip of his now cold coffee. "Angels in the middle of nowhere, blowing up grocery stores - fantastic. What the hell did you see here Dean?" he mused aloud, filling the empty void with his own voice. "Trees, Sammy, a lot of fucking trees!" Sam shouted sarcastically to himself, loud enough to leave his ears ringing in the small space. It was then, he realized he had lost it.

He pushed the paper aside and grabbed the map from under it, scanning for the nearest city. Somewhere busy enough that he could find distraction, and somewhere he had preferably never been. He needed a place where no one knew of Sam Winchester and his adventures. He struggled to find the tiny pinprick of a town he was in on the map and then began to scan the nearest areas. The name 'Starling City' jumped out at him, a small city by the map legend but somewhere new all the same. 

It was odd, Sam thought that they had never heard of Starling city, that of all their times across these states there hadn't been one flicker of activity. No mention in the national papers, the place itself seemed to be hiding and that was reason good enough for him to check it out. He made a change of course, pulling a u-turn to go back to the exit he needed. He shifted in the seat uncomfortably, the long hours in the Impala finally setting into his mind, and by the stiffness in his legs it had long set into his body too.