She sat in her room staring at the wall memorizing things. It was silent in the space, almost too silent for the memorizing that she was doing. There was a gutter that had a pipe that ran down the wall next to her balcony. There was a high wall in the distance, as tall as her old house, maybe taller. There were trees beyond it for as far as she could see. There was a road that ran through them, long and straight.
Lil's gaze traveled over the walls to the corners and up. The walls had a floral pattern with too many colors making up the palette. Purple, pink, yellow, and red flowers bloomed all over the white background. The corners of the room held her interest. There was a cable that had been run along the edge to the far corner where it attached to a camera. The camera pointed at her windowed doorway and the means of escape that she had been considering.
She had opted not to talk. She had been encouraged to speak. There had even been a string of punishments and rewards of minor sorts. He had sent her away from the dinner lavishly laid out when she had first refused to speak. He had yelled. He had mirrored her silence. Mirov had even tried rewards. This week was another week of rewards.
She thought of the things that had propelled her to this place. She had thought of all of the things that had molded and shaped her prior to this moment.
Lil was too young to have the kind of mind that she had. She was though raised by a woman that had every good reason to be paranoid. Later, she was raised by a father that was maybe just a little paranoid too. They each taught her the importance of observation, of knowing when the world has something worth noting.
Today she noted a great many things. She filed them each away for use. She remembered other things too. She remembered the way that her father had held her during those first weeks of night terrors. She remembered his soothing voice, the way that he would gently lay a kiss on her head at night when the world seemed most frightening. Her memories of him were the strongest, and they were what were keeping her going during the many weeks spent in her grandfather's estate.
She worried though. What if she started forgetting things, important things. She thought of Cas' face as he sang to her. Her mother had in the past sang songs to her, songs of meaning. When she died, Lil carried those songs. "Sleep" was their song, a song for just them. Her mother would send her fingers over the keys of the piano in a gentle dance eliciting peace and comfort despite the lyrics. Lil closed her eyes in this moment and tried to flesh the memory out a bit more. It was harder now. She was younger then, and so much had happened since. Sometimes when she imagined her mom singing, the sound would change, and her face would change until the song and the singer were Cas.
She worried that in time her memories of Cas would fade too, become other than what they once were. A small tear formed and spilled out. She felt it fall to her hand in a singular splash. She could imagine his words, his song. It was him and it was her mother too. It was all the memories that mattered. And what of this new family that was being forced upon her? There was her grandfather, all cold and distant, Nanna B., Mr. Hernandez her tutor, and the security detail made up of Willhelm, and Marcus.
In time would the song and memories turn into something else, something created by her grandfather or the others? Would all of the past fade away? These were the things that she wondered as she plotted and planned, as she waited for someone to save her before deciding that maybe she needed to save herself.
Dean had walked with her through the wooded area behind her home. He had given her pointers on hiding and escaping. It had not saved her before, but she thought that it might prove useful now. One of the few things that she had been allowed to keep from home had been the backpack that she had worn during her escape. Cas had packed it, and Dean had checked it over. She did not have everything that was in it before. Her grandfather had gone through it and removed the most useful things.
Lil smiled though, a secret smile as she thought of the things that he had not seen, the things that remained. She let her eyes roam over the room to the chair parked next to her bed. On the back of it was the backpack, just close enough to be easily snatched up and yet just far enough away to seem unimportant to the casual observer. On the seat was a book, a child's book that Lil did not find interesting. Nanna would sometimes sit there and read to her from it in her low growl of a voice. Lil missed the gentle cadences of her father's voice, the soothing melody that he gave to stories.
Time had passed slowly here, yet she was certain that a lot of time had passed. She believed that it had been months. After what was likely the first month of not talking, her grandfather had brought in a doctor. The man was young and had an accent so rich that Lil could barely understand his version of English. He had tried to coax out words with a gentle look and when he failed he conducted a routine exam to be sure that she was healthy. He checked her hearing and listened to her heart. His eyes were kind, brown like the coffee Dean would drink in the mornings.
When he had finished examining her, He had stepped out into the hall with Mirov to discuss the prognosis. Her grandfather did not like what the doctor had had to say. He said something about PTSD. The letters were some of the only things that she understood from him. There was also the sound of a scuffle, like someone was fighting. She couldn't be certain since her door was shut. Regardless, she never saw the doctor again or his kind, well-meaning eyes.
Her grandfather took on a different tact with her after the doctor's visit. He added a tutor for her schooling. He gave her gifts. There had been one small thing each day. There had been a tea set, dolls, a pearl necklace. She set them aside and did not concern herself with them. He had not given her a gift today.
Her door opened on a knock. She dashed a hand across her face to be sure that her tears were gone. Her cheek felt dry enough. She did not get up from the edge of her bed. She watched though as Wilhelm and Marcus struggled to carry in the large box with an even larger bow affixed to the top. Mirov came in behind them and said, "Set it on the table there." The table had been where her tea set had been placed before. It was still sitting there. Mirov came over to the table and pulled the tea set off of it, setting it aside on a small chair. "Here." He beckoned toward the now clear space.
The men hefted the box up onto the table and then took several steps back from it. "You want us to step out?" Marcus asked.
"No, I'll want you to take out the box after she opens it." Mirov put his hand out toward Lil with his palm up. He motioned for her to come forward toward the table. She complied. "Open it dear." He pointed to a space in the cardboard that she could pull to more easily open the gift. She complied again.
The box opened easily with her slight effort, and inside was a very impressive doll house. Mirov motioned the men back to have them take the cardboard. They did so silently and retreated out of the room. Mirov came down to a crouch near her. Lil looked at all of the little rooms, eyes darting over the little details that made up each little space.
She reached out a hand to one room, a familiar room near the corner of the second floor. It had white walls covered in flowers. Mirov started to reach out to her and then let his hand fall back to his side. Lil saw the movement and turned to him. He said, "It's an exact replica of our home. I commissioned an artisan to make it. He studied every room, took measurements. He worked on it everyday since you first arrived here. I thought that I would give it to you for a birthday or for Christmas, but I am not good at such things." His voice sounded almost sad.
Lil turned her attention back to the house. She touched it, letting her fingers trail over the edges of the replica of her room. The corner did not have a replica camera. She pushed open the little balcony doors. It had been the most interaction with a gift that she let herself have. Usually she would just give the item a cursory look and then proceed to ignore it.
Mirov spoke again, "I know that you do not care for me. Your mother did not get the opportunity to know me either and that made her fearful. She was right to be fearful." Lil looked back at him now, wondering what all of this was leading to. "I was not my own. I was being forced to work for others. It is different now though. I have a great deal of power. I would not have brought you here if I thought that my life would endanger you. I would have been content to have never sought you out, but it wasn't safe where you were. That man could not protect you from the dangers that the world was bringing to his doorstep. We are lucky that I made it there in time to remove you from it all."
Lil's face contorted a little with the mentioning of her father. She wanted to know more. She knew that nothing would stop him from finding her. Yet here she was still, and so much time had passed. She could feel the familiar itch in her eyes that usually was a prelude to tears. She would not cry in front of him though.
"I would give you the world, if you asked for it." He reached out to her again. This time he let himself settle a hand on her arm. Lil looked down at the place and then into his eyes. "Ask me for anything, and I'll make it yours."
She stared at him and wondered if he would be true to his word. She doubted it. Yet in that one moment, she wanted so desperately to have her old life back that she gave words to the thought. "I want my dad."
Mirov's hand fell from her. His face moved through a series of emotions. Sometimes Lil wondered if he was ill. This moment caused her to wonder about it once again. He stood and turned his back on her. "I can't give you that."
She considered slipping back into permanent silence, but the silence had already been broken. "Why?"
Mirov's back was still to her. His shoulders sagged a bit as if a great weight had just been lowered onto him. His voice was low, but he answered her. "Your father is dead, Lil. He has been for some time. I am the only family that you have left." He turned back to her, and Lil glared at him.
Yet in his eyes she saw something that looked sincere, and it made her angry. Liar. She thought it. She wanted to scream it. I'd feel it if he were. I'd feel it like I did when mom died. Her body shook a little now, and Mirov drew closer to her. She took a shaky step back. He stopped.
"I'm sorry." She continued to glare at him despite the sincerity that dripped from his apology.
He moved to the door, and slipped out of the room without another word. Lil felt her legs give out. She thought of her father in the last frantic moments that they had together. Someone was in their house. It was the man from before, the one that visited her dreams. She considered what she knew of that night. She wondered if he had hurt Cas. She wondered if he had hurt Dean or Garth, since Garth had been there too, and Dean would surely have come home to them. She started crying and she feared that she wouldn't stop.
The dollhouse loomed up in front of her, a prison within her prison. She began pacing back and forth like a caged animal. She kicked over the chair that had the tea set resting on it. She found other things to throw. Nanna B poked her head in to check on her. Lil threw something at the door, and Nanna slipped back out into the hall.
When all of her rage and frustration had had its vent, she crumbled to the floor in front of the dollhouse and stared at it. She studied it. She memorized its contours and shapes. She memorized the way that the halls snaked around to a stairwell that she had not noticed before. She noticed the pathways to the various exits. She noticed them and felt her body calming with each exit that she filed away.
She reached up to it again and let her fingers trace its edges. She thought of home. She thought of Cas and Dean. She thought of the way that they loved her and each other. Dean had told her about his mom, about losing her. He had told her about how the feelings would not go away, but that they would become bearable. She wondered if she would ever find being in this new place bearable. She did not think so. She knew that she had a family out there that was not Mirov or anything in this place. And if he is right...He's not...But if… She stopped herself from thinking out the rest of the thought. My father is not dead. And if he can't get to me, I'll have to find a way to get to him or Dean. She wondered how far she was from home. She had looked at a book of maps in the library down the hall, but she couldn't wrap her head around the distances.
Brazil. She knew that she was in Brazil. She knew that it was far away from home. Other than that she couldn't quite comprehend it. The plane that brought her here was small and held the two of them for hours. She had expected Dean or her father to show up, breaking down doors or throwing down a few punches. What she didn't expect was the quiet ease with which she had been taken. Mirov had landed with little to no fanfare, and a car had pulled up next to the private airstrip to take them to the compound, her new home. Lil had watched the land streak by as they drove. She had paid attention to the turns and the landmarks. Unfortunately, everything looked rather the same. There was lots of green, and the roads were all a little less than spectacular. There were no signs to direct their course. She memorized though, as best she could.
At least it had been daytime. It would have been harder at night. At one point they had passed a small town. She kept track of the route that spooled out in their wake as they had passed it on their way to Mirov's home. During the months that she had lived with her grandfather, she had gone outside several times, but never beyond the gates, never into a town. Everything that she needed came to her. A tutor came out five days a week to give her a passable education. The cook had a young daughter that was brought in to play with her on a few occasions. They did not have a common language between them, so much of their communication was through pantomime. This suited Lil just fine.
She felt tired and let her head dip back against the bed. It was still day, and too early for sleep, but she closed her eyes anyway. With sleep would come dreams, and the possibility that all of this was not real. She let her mind wander back to simpler things, only to be interrupted by Mirov's words, "Your father is dead." The words stabbed at her mind. She'd see Cas' face as he smiled at her over the kitchen counter. He was making pancakes. Dean was making coffee. Dean would hip bump Cas and sing a little off key while they made breakfast together. Lil just got to sit and watch them and feel like the world was quite good. "Your father is dead." The stab of words again shook her memory.
She refocused. They had walked together along the lake. Cas and Dean each held one of her hands. They let her swing a little between them. She was getting too big for this, but they didn't complain. At one point they aimed her out over the water. She screamed, but it was a joyous yell. Dean swooped her up onto his shoulders and they kept walking together along the beach trail. The snow was not so bad along the trail. Dean held Cas' hand while they walked. He kept his other hand on Lil's leg so she wouldn't feel like she could fall. She held onto this head just to be sure.
She listened to the way that they talked and the things that they said. They were happy, finally. It had taken them long enough, and she had wondered why they had ever been apart. When they had returned to the house, Dean had gently moved her from his shoulders back down to solid ground. She had moved back into the house, but not before seeing Dean kiss Cas against the porch railing. "Your father is dead." He's not. "Your father is dead." No! Her eyes were open again, and the world was floral patterned walls and a giant dollhouse.
She got up and walked to her windowed doors. She opened them and stepped out onto the balcony. She took five steps and was at the edge. It was nearly 11 am and the security on the main gate would be changing soon. She watched them. Sure enough, at exactly 11 the security guards on duty left to be replaced by two new men that showed up from the outside. Dean had talked about patterns and predictability once when he was explaining how he had solved a case long ago. She had thought that his job sounded interesting. Cas had put her to bed that night with some final word about how she was far too young to be deciding on a career path just yet. Long after he had tucked her in, long after he had likely thought that she was asleep, he and Dean planned and plotted at the kitchen table. At the time she felt sneaky. She told herself that it was for practice, for when she was old enough to be a cop like Dean.
She listened to them talk about a guy named Frank that had a radio talk show. Dean was going to tell him about the bad guys. Cas had written everything for Dean because he was better with words. Dean was always saying so. Lil thought that Dean was funny for thinking that. He always seemed to say the right things to her. That night though Cas had been worried. Nothing that Dean said seemed to make him feel okay. He drummed at the table while they talked and he kept watching Dean while they spoke as if he was afraid that he might slip away from him right then and there. Lil remembered the moment vividly as if it were still occurring right in front of her.
Dean had been adamant. He had been confident. He had said that this trip to the city would fix everything. That some man named Ezra would be arrested, and that A and Al would be captured were the only reasons that he would ever leave them alone for even a minute. Dean had said all of this with the soothing tones of one that knew where the finish line was. She believed Dean when he said that he would be back, and that everything would be fine. She believed him, and he had been wrong. She was now standing on her balcony with a whole foreign world stretching out in front of her, and all she could do now was forgive him for being so entirely wrong.
A car was driving out to the front gate. She watched it. The sun glinted off the back window. She moved to the other end of the balcony and continued to watch. The car came to a halt at the gate. Words were exchanged. She could see the man in the back seat, her grandfather. The gate was opened and they drove out. It was only opened just long enough for the car to drive out. She had wondered in the past if she would be able to sneak out, but it would be rather impossible. She watched the car drive onward along the graveled road that would later become asphalt.
There was a glint of something out in the trees. She focused on that spot nearly twenty-five feet from the gate. She moved along the balcony and tried to make out what was out there. The car was long since gone. She kept her focus on that one spot. And there it was again, a small reflection of light off of something. She darted back into her room and looked for something that she could use. There was a small hand mirror on the dresser. She snatched it up and rushed back out to the balcony. She angled the light off of the mirror out into the trees. She tried to hit the spot that she had been watching before.
Nothing happened. She waited. One of the guards at the wall hollered over to her. "What are you doing?" She angled the reflection down on him, blinding him for a moment. "Hey, knock that off," he shouted up at her. She turned the light to other areas and people. They seemed to think that she was playing and that she was annoying. She found herself smiling a little with the reactions that she was getting.
She looked back out to the trees and saw the light again. It flashed one, two, three times. She reflected her light to that spot again. Nothing came from the trees again. She wondered who was out there. She wondered if she could somehow get beyond the gate. She thought about it as she went back into her room. She believed that her father was just beyond the wall, or maybe it was Dean. She didn't know, and she didn't care. It was someone that she felt certain was looking for her, and she was going to get to them.
Night came, and with it Nanna B. Lil had been sitting in front of the dollhouse, mapping out the halls that she had not explored in reality. There were exits that she had not known about and several paths that could be taken to them. Unfortunately though, they were all within the walls. As near as she could tell, there was no escape from this pit without some help.
Nanna B stood next to her for a moment then she started humming out a lullaby. This was her way. She was always humming something. Since Lil had stopped talking over a month ago, Nanna B had opted to fill the silence with song. Lil got up when she returned to her side with a pajama set. They went through the ritual of changing Lil for bed. When that was done, Lil climbed up over the fluffy comforter, also floral in its design, and got settled in for sleep. Nanna B pulled a chair closer to her side and was about to read the usual book to her.
Lil considered the silence and wondered if breaking it would help a thing. The story was dumb. Breaking the silence would at least end that. "I don't like this story."
Nanna B's face shifted with the sound of Lil's voice, but she seemed like she didn't want Lil to know that it surprised her, so she trained her expression back into something more neutral as she looked at her. "I can read you something else." Her voice was maternal, low like a sad song.
Lil sat up. She wondered what she could learn from Nanna B. "Grandfather said that my dad is dead. Is that true?" She wouldn't believe her if she said yes, but if she said no, she would live in that word.
"I do not know a thing about your father. If your grandfather said that he is dead, then he is dead. Why would he lie?" Nanna B looked away for a moment and seemed to consider the corners of the room as her eyes flitted around the space.
"Maybe he doesn't know. Maybe he was just assuming. Daddy said that sometimes people don't quite see things right sometimes. People imagine things to fit the gaps that are too much for them." Lil sat up more and looked at Nanna B for a tell.
"I wouldn't know." Nanna B smoothed out the blanket over her and then cupped her cheek in a gentle move that lingered for a spell.
"Could you find out for me?" Lil whispered her request.
Nanna B nodded almost imperceptibly, but Lil was certain that she saw it. "Perhaps you would like to talk about something more pleasant before bed." Nanna B's smile loomed over her with the words.
"I would like to talk about my dad, about Dean, and about home." Lil had a plan forming in her head, a need for information was brewing, but she also needed to find a way out of the walls.
"I can be a good listener if you wish to talk." Nanna B let go of Lil's cheek. Her face still spoke of affection.
"Before grandfather came to get me, my dad and Dean made a plan." She waited and watched Nanna B taking in her words. "They were going to tell a story about some bad men that had tried to hurt me."
"Yes, I had heard about that." Nanna B settled a hand on Lil's arm and ran her thumb back and forth.
"You did?" Lil was surprised. It meant that maybe something had gone right. She had often wondered if Dean had managed to accomplish all that he had gone to the city to accomplish.
"Yes, it was in the papers, and on the news. That was months ago." Nanna B fell silent like she feared that she had shared too much.
"Did the bad men go to jail?" Lil's hand fell to her side, an involuntary move that happened often when she remembered details from that night at Sam's when the man with the ponytail had stabbed her.
"I don't know. There is a trial happening. I don't think that it is done. If I remember right, there was a bunch of trouble with the law firm that was supposed to represent the Brady. I don't understand that sort of stuff though." Nanna B shifted in her seat, but she continued to rest her hand on Lil.
"What about the other men? There were two men that had long hair. One of the men had scary skin. He was burned." Lil remembered the night in the woods. She remembered his face in the dark, illuminated by the moonlight. He had been searching for her. She hid too well for him though. Nothing about him, despite so much time passing, could be forgotten. She remembered him as she slept, his face peering down on her in nightmares. He had killed her mom, or maybe it was the other one. Either way he had wanted to kill her, kill Cas, and likely Dean too.
"The only one on trial is Brady." She seemed to consider saying more, and Lil let her have the silence. "There had been a story about a man that had been arrested who was connected to the trial. He had burns on his face. I don't know what came of him. I feel like there was a story, but I really don't remember any of the details."
"He was the one that shot my mom," Lil confessed in a quiet voice.
Nanna B leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "He can't hurt you here. Your grandfather won't let anyone hurt you here." She settled back in her chair.
Lil considered her words. She knew that whatever she said would find its way back to her grandfather. For all of the affection that Nanna B was showing, she still had her loyalties all tied to her grandfather. Lil looked off out the window at the night sky full of stars. "I miss school." She let the words linger.
"Is Mr. Hernandez not teaching you enough?"
"He's teaching me math and stuff. I miss my friends. I miss playing with them on the playground." Lil turned her attention back to Nanna B.
Nanna B looked off at the room full of toys, mostly untouched. "I can see how this would feel different. I'll mention it to your grandfather. Perhaps there is a solution to your loneliness." She got up then and gave her one final kiss on the forehead. "Sleep now. Your grandfather will expect you at breakfast in the morning."
Nanna B moved off to the door and turned off the lights as she went. The room was not dark though with the moonlight from outside illuminating the area around her window. She could almost imagine the small town beyond the trees. She could almost imagine a small school there that she could be driven to. She could imagine low fences and classrooms looking out onto vast stretches of land. Lil rolled over and let her eyes slowly drift off into sleep. Her lips curled up into a smile, small and hopeful.
AN: The final part for the Song for Us series will begin posting in just days. I'm going to post as I write them. I figured that a timestamp would remind us of the things that happened in the last part which was last posted ages ago. Hope you're all ready. The last part is called Lil Chorus for the Dying. It picks up five months after Dean the Dangerous and the Damned.