I'm sorry for not updating my stories so much anymore :( I really do mean to do them, I have NOT forgotten them. And so to make up for the lack of updates of old stories, here's a new one for ya :)
Prologue
Sam watched the Impala drove off. He sighed and lookd around in his motel room. Left home alone, yet again. How many times did that happen? He wondered the room wordlessly. He was already bored. He groaned as he thought of school the next day. He realized that his good grades might have been part of the reason why he never got to miss school while Dean did. Dean was a C average student and that was fine for him. But Sam never brought any grades him lower than an A-, which made John want him to concentrate on school more than Dean.
That meant that Sam didn't really get to go on a lot of hunts with his father. Dean had now graduated that he was able too. Sam hated being 16 and having a 20 year old brother. Like going on hunts for one. For some reason John seemed more adamant about keeping Sam away from these monsters than Dean.
He looked through the cubboards and wrinkled his nose at the spagettios. He sighed and took them out anyway. He thought there was some store bought nuggets in the fridge, he'll have those later. As his put it in the microwave he wondered to the tv area and flipped through the movies he had rented. Rather sullenly he saw Godzilla the Remake in the stack. He shrugged, why not?
He popped in the vhs and went to get the spagettios. Quietly, and almost robotically he ate the food and watched the movie. He was so used to this routine that he was sick of it. He checked the clock. It was only 9:00. He realized there was no one to tell him to go to bed but he decided too anyway, he wanted to get this night over as soon as possibly.
As he fell asleep he dreamt of John and Dean, their dead faces looking at him. He woke up shouting and covered in sweat. He glanced over at the clock, 6:00. Time to get up anyway. Without thinking he grabbed his cell to call his father. He got a voice mail. He called Dean after that, got a voice mail too.
Trying to convince himself that it was nothing, that they were out on a hunt and couldn't answer the phone he still replayed his dream of their dead faces over and over. He tried to swallow his fear as he went to school.
He could think of nothing but John and Dean. His stomach was tied in knots. He didn't know the answer to any questions he was asked. He bolted as soon as the last bell rang.
He turned on his phone and checked for messages. He swallowed when he saw that there was none.
"They just can't reach their phones right now," he tried to tell himself. "It hasn't been even a day yet, Sam. You've been alone longer." So why did he have such a bad feeling about this? The feeling even made him sick.
He remembered what his father always told him.
"If you don't; hear from us in three days call Uncle Bobby."
He had to wait three days to call him. He wasn't sure if he could handle that.
He just didn't get why he was so fearful of their lives all of a sudden. What triggered it?
The next two days were hell for him. He called and called, but each time it went straight to voice mail.
Finally as soon as he woke up from another nightmarish sleep on the third day he reached over to grab his phone and called Bobby.
No answer.
"Damn it!"
He hung up, hot worried tears in his eyes.
His breathing sharpened as he began to slowly hypervenilate in panic.
"Calm yourself," he told himself. "Get a grip, it's probably nothing."
But panic continued to take control of it as relization sunk in him.
He was all alone.
He had no one, his family was, for the moment,....gone...
Do you still want me to continue?
