It was a day's worth of travel before he realized what had happened.
Daniel sat forward in his seat, turning to take in the sight of an elder woman with tight, grey curls and a generally sour expression, that he only barely remembered asking for a ride from. Hadn't really cared about the destination at the time. She'd agreed, and he thought she'd said that she was heading towards Oklahoma City, but he couldn't quite recall.
It just hadn't seemed important. Still didn't, really.
She watched the road with her head tilted down as her thin rimmed glasses sat unused on the end of her pale nose. She also didn't seem to be able to sit back in her seat.
He looked down between his legs and was thankful enough that he hadn't been too out of it to forget his bag. It was nestled beside his ankles just like usual, the dark streetlamps of a recognizable highway setting passing by his window like drifting shadows of light. It was familiar, almost comfortable to him now.
He noticed his jeans were fraying; large, thinning strips of fabric stretched over his knees and showing through to scabbed and raw skin in more areas than one. Showing both their age and use after being worn nearly every day and only washed when he'd had the opportunity. Daniel wondered for a moment whether or not he'd be able to sew them if he needed to. Then he wondered if he would even know the first thing about sewing if he was handed a needle and thread.
He knew what it involved, knew what the components were, but whether or not the execution had ever been performed was completely hidden from him. Lost. If someone were to ask him if he'd ever sewn something before, he couldn't even honestly say yes or no.
He shook his head in frustration, knowing he must have been on autopilot since the moment he'd fled from the bookstore.
Daniel was still numb, he could feel it deep in his chest, but there were worse things to feel. Worse situations to be in and far more dangerous places to be. This was something he knew, now. Something that didn't require him being much of anyone but a nameless man bumming a ride.
He thinks maybe the woman's name was Barbara.
They parted ways once the large rig had pulled into a rest stop on the edge of Edmond just outside of the city. Barbara hadn't been much of a talker, and Daniel was grateful for his luck, as he hadn't really felt like doing much talking in return.
He was ashamed of himself; for the way he'd reacted, for excepting more than what he'd already known, for hurting someone again. He remembered the look on the man with the ball cap's face, the sound of the glass shattering and the wreckage he'd made of the store after only a small moment of releasing some of his grief. It had only been that little amount of what was hurting within, and look at what he'd done.
Whatever was inside of him, he couldn't control it. It healed him when he was hurt and blasted out of him when his all too human emotions became too much. Monsters didn't have emotions, it felt unfair that he should have to deal with both. It was a nuisance and a bother, and something Daniel wished he'd never discovered of himself. He wasn't even sure, but was hoping that that was the extent of it and that there would be no more surprises than what he'd seen.
Something told him that he wasn't going to be so lucky.
The less he thought of Dean, the better.
But he still had the same dreams. Still heard the voice calling to him, almost every night now, telling him he was missed and wishing for his safe return.
It was agonizing.
Once in Oklahoma City, it was obvious that as soon as he would need to leave from there, it would be more than easy to catch another ride. The city itself had become a center point for the wayfarers of the mid-west and all of those who'd survived the war without anything to return to.
What had once been a normal, large and bustling metropolis was now something that had nearly been decimated by fire, like a large bomb had been planted in the middle of the city the previous year and left to destroy at will. Now that it was almost a year later, however, those who had called it home had turned their want for justice inward and rebuilt a place that would enlist any and all who wished to help others across the country.
Trucks were in and out of the city constantly, like clockwork, taking both perishable and rebuilding supplies to nearly every state as it was needed on a twenty four hour clock. Daniel had never been treated so normally before as he had been shuffled in with the rest of the homeless that were there looking for work, or food or salvation. He'd been fed, offered a place to clean up, was well-treated, and was asked only for a bit of labor in return before he was sent on his way.
He'd seen the maps they used and the technology that was cataloguing and anticipating what was needed the most, where. Like a second form of government that had emerged by the people themselves who weren't there so much to rule as they were to assist. The map had spread out from Oklahoma City like a spider web, reaching to every nook and cranny while even spreading up into Canada and down into Mexico. They were funded by themselves, because 'themselves' meant everyone.
If you had a contribution, you gave it; if you needed one, you were given it.
It was a good place to be, so involved and busy with everything happening at once that he didn't have the time or distraction enough to think about himself.
All Daniel had to give was whatever he could do with his hands, so he did so without question. It felt good to work hard labor and to do as he was told, working to load and unload the trucks and replenish the supplies as they came in and out. Payment in that place wasn't so much money as a barter, and that made it easier for those like him who didn't have coin so much as working hands.
He'd have stayed under any other circumstance, but lingering in a single place had been bad luck for him twice now. Daniel didn't make friends so much as acquaintances, and it wasn't so difficult to say goodbye to them.
He felt guilty when he thought about what poor Kevin would have returned to with his bookstore windows now in ruins. He'd been grateful to the man for the job and spent more than a few lunches with him. Another friend left behind in disappointment. Daniel wondered if this was something he'd done to people before all of his memories were gone, or if it went hand in hand with his curse.
As soon as he informed the other workers that he was leaving, and that his position was open in the truck garage at his departure, it was filled just as quickly, and the cog kept its turning pace.
It made him smile, the first time in two weeks, watching what was happening in this place and how these people were making the most of themselves after such a costly tragedy. They hadn't folded, they hadn't sat alone and cried for someone to help them, they'd helped themselves.
He greatly disliked that he continued to miss someone that was long since dead, and tried hard not to think about it.
The first truck he came upon ended up being the best one. Daniel met and befriended the smiling and joyful 'Mama' Molly on her way to take water and food out to Little Rock, Arkansas then Memphis, Tennessee. She was more than happy to give him a lift, especially since he didn't mind where he was going, and she had a motherly sense about her that put Daniel at ease. He was grateful for a smiling face.
The trip was uneventful, and despite the fact that they could have parted ways in Little Rock, Daniel stayed with her until they reached Memphis. She had so much happiness that it was hard not to be happy with her. She'd survived the war barely, 'by the skin of her teeth' after she'd been possessed by a demon and forced to watch herself do the most terrifying and inhuman things she'd ever seen.
Daniel still wasn't sure what to make of the demon theory, but there had been so many people in Oklahoma City that swore by it. Enough so that it felt silly to even attempt to ask otherwise. He didn't know what he was meant to be believe, but considering the things he was witnessing in himself recently, demons and demonic wars may not be as impossible as he once believed.
Molly had been pregnant at the time she was possessed, and the demon riding her had cut out her child prematurely to use as a sacrifice of some sort. To use its blood and summon others. Daniel had gazed at her in horror, even as she showed him the jagged scar across her belly that looked like something out of a nightmare. She didn't know how she'd survived it, but she had, and she thanked God and all his angels every day that she'd been blessed enough to keep on living.
"How do you smile after something like that?" Daniel had asked her, weariness and grief creeping up on him again after such a disheartening story.
But she'd simply laughed, shrugging her thin shoulders and tossing her messy black curls back behind her lean neck.
"You find something better, Daniel. There's always something better. What's done is done, and nothing you pray for or hope for will ever change that. God don't work that way. He gives you little hints, something to work with so that you can earn it back on your own. Even if what's in front of your face is telling you that nothing will ever be good again…you gotta watch for those clues, and find something better."
She'd ruffled his hair, but it didn't do much more than shift it from one messy direction to another.
He liked Molly.
After Memphis, Molly decided she was going to take a quick run to Birmingham, Alabama to meet up with some relatives of hers and take them back with her to Oklahoma City. She called it Home Base, something that Daniel remembered hearing every so often by other truckers on his journey in the northern states, but hadn't known what the reference was.
He decided to stick with her until then, where he'd be able to find another ride and possibly make his way into Georgia or the Carolinas. There was no feeling in his gut anymore telling him where to go, and he'd already been given the answers as to what had become of the man he'd been missing, so it was random pickings from there on out.
Daniel had no memories of being on the East Coast, so he figured it was a good a time as any as the seasons were swiftly changing from summer to fall. It was mid-September, and he could hardly believe that he still didn't have more than a year's worth of memories from when he'd started.
It felt like a lifetime instead, yet still managed to feel stiflingly limited.
There was something building inside of him that he refused to allow out. A grief he had yet to manage or express now that he knew for certain that Dean was gone. He didn't want to experience that grief, didn't want to acknowledge it was even there, so he shoved it down as far as it would go.
It didn't help that the repeating dreams with Dean had stopped a few days after Sioux Falls. The voice was gone. No more pleas for help, no more asking why he'd left. And in return, no more answers.
They'd just passed the border from Mississippi to Alabama on the 78, Molly's voice raised high in off-key song as Daniel tried very hard not to laugh at her.
She'd been kind enough to ask very little of him after the first few questions had been so difficult. She'd seen enough to know when someone was having a hard time facing their own story, so she didn't pry. He wondered how long it had taken her to become so comfortable with herself again. There would always be scars, he knew, but her outlook was enough to give him just a bit of his hope back.
Humans were resilient creatures, and so was he.
They were startled from their musical interlude, however, when one of the rig's back tires suddenly exploded, going off like a bomb that was loud enough that Daniel actually ducked in his seat.
Molly grabbed tightly to the wheel, the muscles of her arms tightening with sheer stubborn willpower in order to keep the entire truck from swerving too much through the wreckage of flying rubber and debris. As quickly as was safe, she maneuvered her truck with enough skill to get it pulled over to the side of the road, Daniel's head vibrating painfully as eight of the wheel's jarred over the rumble strips on the edge of the highway.
They came to a stop, and Daniel gazed around with wide eyes, unsure of both what had happened and what he was supposed to do. He'd been in only one other truck with a blow out, but that had been only briefly and he'd been told to stay in the cab and not touch anything. It had been just as loud, but there'd been more people traveling that highway than there was on this one. He couldn't remember how long it had been since they'd been passed by another car.
It was nearing dusk and the road around that area was obviously ill-kept and lined with autumn painted trees. There was an exit sign he could see that pointed towards Hamilton, but the sign was half broken, burnt and spray painted with 'POPULATION: DEMONS' across the front of it. Whether or not that was accurate, he wasn't sure, but it was hardly comforting.
Molly let out a small laugh, more out of relief than amusement.
"Well don't that just tell all? It'd be my luck, right? Good thing you're here, I'm bout to pull on my big girl panties and change a tire. Wanna help?"
Daniel had smiled and nodded. He liked the way she spoke to him.
They both pulled themselves out of the cab, Daniel stepping to the shadowed ground on the opposite side just as he heard a cry suddenly come from the driver's side. He spun on his heel, turning back to look into the cab, but Molly had already shut her door.
"Molly?" He called out, moving in a quick jog to round the front of the ticking truck engine and get to where he could see. As he got around it, his eyes widened to take in the sight of five other people that were suddenly standing beside the trailer, all somehow appearing out of nowhere when he'd seen no other vehicles pass that way. He slowed his gait in confusion, coming to a stop as his eyes caught sight of Molly being held menacingly with a knife to her throat.
"Hey there Danny boy." Came the voice of the man at their head, and it made Daniel jump to hear his name. His eyes were as black as the night and his gaze menacing. He was dressed as if he should have been riding on a motorcycle, or in a truck with wheels three feet off the ground. But there were still no other vehicles.
Four men, one woman. Appearing completely out of thin air.
"How do you…"
"Oh I know who you are. Or who you think you are. I get the newsletter." He sneered, eyeing Daniel slowly from head to toe as he licked his lips. It sent shivers down his spine and he couldn't help but stare at the soulless eyes in front of him. Was this actually happening?
"You…you're demons?"
And they laughed, each and every one of them. They all looked so different from one another. Different skin, different ages, different styles of clothing. Like they'd been plucked out of their distant homes and pulled to that location in the middle of whatever they'd been doing. He wondered just how far off the truth he was.
He felt his fingers clench into fists, both in fear and a revulsion that he couldn't explain.
"Oh you got that right, Danny. We may not have won the war, but there are battles that will never be over. Especially when the likes of you are still down in this shithole trying to be human." The man tilted his head to the side in a verbal challenge, and Daniel swallowed hard, unsure of what he was supposed to do or say. What could he possibly do against a batch of demons? Scream at them? He didn't want to hurt Molly…
"I don't know what you're-"
"Oh I know you don't. That just makes it more fun. I've been dyin' to get my hands on one of you for centuries now. It don't make a difference whether or not you know what you are."
Daniel bristled, taking a step forward with his hands pulled into fists in front of him. He was pretty sure he didn't know how to fight, not effectively anyway, but the threats to Molly and himself were uncalled for. What was he talking about?
"Stop saying that! Let her go! She's got nothing to do with me or any of you!"
He wasn't sure where the bravery was stemming from, but he was suddenly glad it was there. Molly didn't deserve to go through this all over again, not after she'd worked so hard to pull herself to her feet. Not after what she'd already lost.
The man sneered unmercifully, turning to glance at the quivering woman who's wide, green eyes were darting from demon to demon with unbridled fear. Daniel didn't blame her.
"Whelp, the lightbulbs got a point, don't he guys?"
They laughed again as Daniel watched between them, wondering what was going on and what he was missing. There was no way it was that easy, something was wrong. He didn't have time to think about it for too long, however, as the demon girl suddenly released Molly and pulled the knife from her throat. She staggered forward a few steps, her hand moving to the tender skin before she didn't waste another second in getting to Daniel's side.
He held a hand up towards her, but didn't touch, making sure that she was ok before glaring back at the group before him.
Just as he made eye contact, however, he realized that the man who'd been speaking to him was holding a gun, and it was pointed at them.
Before anything was said, it fired, and Daniel blinked, hearing Molly cry out and drop to the ground at his side as if it was all happening in slow motion.
He gasped in a breath of air, crying out her name before dropping down beside her on the dirty, hot asphalt of the road. He wasn't sure what to do, hadn't a clue how to perform any sort of medical assistance and definitely didn't know what to do when someone had been shot.
"Two bullets…in the chest…blood everywhere…"
Daniel squeezed his eyes shut for a second, trying very hard not to scream. He moved quickly, getting Molly's hands out of the way as she gazed up at him in shock and tears, and placed his hands down firmly on the wound. Something he knew out of instinct to do, it seemed, but not much else. The bastard had shot her in the stomach.
"Why?!" He cried out, keeping his hands on her but twisting his head around to glare at the menacing crew that were simply standing there and watching him. The gun was gone, so it didn't look like they'd had any intention of shooting him too. What had been the point then?
"Why are you doing this? What purpose does it serve?!" His anger superseded his panic and there was an urge deep within him to reach out and grab a hold of each one of them, to burn out whatever evil it was that had nestled inside their human prisoners. He wanted to see them burn, and his blood felt like it was on fire.
Molly cried out beneath him, his hands tingling but still firmly held in place to try and stifle what was inevitable. There would be no help coming, and the road was desolate enough that they'd both be long since dead before anyone found them. There was no winning this fight.
"Cause I was bored, feather-brain. Why else do we do anything? You're lost and she's just another swipe on my bedpost to piss off the other side. Ya know, you'd think they'd have come back if one of their own had gotten left behind, but…" The man took a few steps toward him, his boots clacking on the pavement and his black eyes shining in the minimizing light. He crouched down beside Daniel, and it took all he had not to smash his fist into the bastard's face.
"You really think you're human, don't you?" He sneered, and Daniel startled, his eyes widening.
"I am human!" He cried out, not sure anymore if he was going to curse or sob. Useless, so incredibly useless and small. An inconsequential vagabond who was left to forget the world just as the world forgot him.
The demon raised a curious eyebrow at him, his smirking face looking pointedly from Daniel down to his hands where he realized belatedly that Molly had stilled beneath them.
Daniel stared for a moment back at him before being unable to stop from following his gaze, fearing the worst. He wasn't sure what he was going to do if he found her dead; another body helplessly falling victim to dying in his hands.
Someone else he couldn't protect.
As he turned to look at her, however, he was surprised to see her staring up at him with wide, pain free eyes. The front of her thin shirt was torn, and covered in her blood, but she was taking slow deep breaths that should have been labored. She wasn't cringing under his touch, nor was she trying to pull away. The color had returned to her face.
And she was staring up at him in absolute fear.
Daniel slowly pulled his hands up, the fingers curling and stained red as they shook nervously above Molly's stomach. He swallowed, unblinking eyes trained on the wound that he'd tried so desperately to stifle and wanted so much to have disappear and go back to the way she'd been. Long, jagged scar and everything…
And it had. The wound was gone, and only the mess remained.
Daniel yanked his hands back as if he'd been burnt, falling back on his knees before shoving himself away entirely with a stifled cry. The demon man had moved out of the way, as if he'd known it was going to happen, but all Daniel could do was stare terrifyingly at what he'd done. What his hands had done; his power. His inhuman power.
Molly slowly pulled herself up onto her elbows, her eyes wary and distrustful as she moved a hand to her stomach and smoothed out the damp and ruined shirt over a wound that no longer existed.
"Get the fuck outta here, bitch." The demon spat, walking up quickly to take a swift kick in Molly's direction as if he was shooing a dog. It succeeded in getting her to move, the woman quickly climbing to her feet as she shook with nervous, almost laughing sobs. Her bright eyes moved from the demon, to his holstered gun, to Daniel, all without saying a word before she suddenly twirled herself around and ran for the cab of her truck.
The semi roared to life as Daniel stared down at his hands, the blood still so bright and new that was now the only evidence that anyone had ever been harmed on that deserted highway.
Or ever been healed by mysterious hands.
The truck pulled back onto the road and quickly ramped up to speed, even with the blown tire that was still scattered back behind them in frayed pieces. The road was long, and straight, but it didn't take long for Molly's rig to be nearly out of his sight.
He was glad of it. She didn't need any more freakish 'accidents' in her lifetime. She needed to keep smiling.
"Hey…wake up there, lightbulb. You still with me?"
Daniel felt the boot shove into his leg forcefully, and cringed as it returned with a harsh kick to his side and sent him doubling over. He stared straight ahead of him, noticing that his bag had been tossed onto the road on the opposite side after Molly had gotten in. It struck him suddenly that it was probably the least she could do for him now, if he ever believed she'd owed him anything to begin with.
"Get up."
Shadows surrounded him, and he knew they were probably going to beat him senseless before they killed him. He knew how gangs worked and how bullies acted when their prey was down. Daniel was no stranger to being on the wrong side of a badly aimed fist or shoe, even if this was the first time he'd been ganged up on by more than three. It didn't matter what species they were, mobs were all the same.
"Get away from me." He growled, despair still on the edge of his voice as it boiled in the back of his throat like a tangible thing.
He was dragged to his feet suddenly, the man who'd shot Molly yanking him into his face close enough that Daniel could see the stubble of his chin and the freckles across his nose. It gave him pause for a moment, but the grip the demon had on him was starting to make him choke.
"You listen when I'm talkin to you you holy piece of-"
Daniel suddenly moved, a cry of outrage exploding from his throat before his hands moved to grip the sides of the man's sun burnt face with a force enough to bruise. He wasn't sure what made him do it, but there was a rage in him that was so deep, so righteous, that he was no longer going to tolerate having to bend to these creatures.
His fingers shook with a power he couldn't control, and there was suddenly light everywhere that bore into the sides of the man's head and straight into him, beaming out of his eyes, nose and mouth like a search light.
The man screamed, freezing in place just as the others did at the sight when he was no longer able to let go of Daniel. It looked like he was being electrocuted. He wasn't sure what he was doing to him, but it sure as hell looked like burning from the inside out and he really didn't feel all that badly about doing it. He cried out loud enough to match the demon, but it lasted for barely four seconds before the light was suddenly extinguished and the two of them fell together in a heap on the ground.
Daniel could barely hear, the blood thrumming through his ears like a drum beat as it amplified the sound of his fast beating heart. He was suddenly exhausted, trying hard to move and get himself off of the demon he'd just fried but barely able to even move. He opened his eyes just long enough to see that there were no other feet around him, and no other bodies waiting to scrape up what was left of him now that he'd 'kicked the crap' out of one of their own.
The saying made him smile, for some reason he couldn't recall.
They'd all run for it, and his smile became a laugh, the sound shrill and manic in the fading light of the sun as Daniel was finally able to roll himself off of his attacker and fall face first onto the road.
The sound of his heart grew louder, and he thought it almost sounded like music before he blacked out entirely.
When he opened his eyes, it was just as dark as he'd expected it to be, but not as still.
He was on something with moving vibrations, and it took him a moment as he shifted around slightly to figure out that it was the familiar rumbling of an engine somewhere nearby. He was in, or on a vehicle, but it didn't make sense because he was lying flat on his back and there was plenty of room around him. The vehicle wasn't moving, but it was definitely on.
Daniel tried to lift his head, but it felt incredibly foggy and full, like it had been filled to the brim with water that he was trying with difficulty not to spill. Any other thoughts of moving shifted from his priority, but he wasn't sure exactly what had been done to him to keep him so immobile. It didn't feel like he was tied down, or held beneath anything but a blanket…but that didn't make sense either.
He groaned, lifting a hand and dragging it slowly from beneath the blanket up towards his head. His face felt strange; in fact, his entire body felt strange. He could feel heat on his stomach, like he'd been sitting in the sun for too long, but at the same time he was incredibly cold and it was making him shiver from the inside out.
"Shhh…easy. Don't try to move just yet."
The voice was soothing, but Daniel jumped as he heard it with the memory of what he'd just faced still fresh in his mind, along with the gushing of Molly's blood. He cried out, trying to pull himself away with the sudden fear that quaked him, but the hands upon him were currently stronger than he was, even if they didn't really feel it.
"Whoah, it's ok. Hey, hey it's alright. You're safe. No more demons…" The voice spoke to him as if they were reading his mind, and Daniel squinted into the dark, trying to see who it was that was reassuring him. Had they done something to him to make him feel this way? It felt horrible.
"No more demons, ok? You're sick. We found you, but you're sick and you gotta work on getting better before anything else. You're safe."
It was exactly what he'd needed to hear, speaking for the sake of speaking in his benefit, and despite the fact that his body continued to shiver uncontrollably, he was too exhausted to keep fighting. He wanted very much to turn onto his side, to curl his knees up beneath his jacket and sleep until everything was ok again, but the hands wouldn't let him move.
Daniel didn't have it in him to argue, so he went back to sleep.
He was sure that there were other times that he could barely recall being conscious, but it was all jumbled together and disjointed. Hard to make out around the miasma of fog settling over his skin and dwelling within him.
A lamp had been turned on, and despite the fact that the light was low and muted, it still hurt his eyes, so his vision was limited before he'd pass back out.
It was still something he wasn't sure was actually happening or a dream.
He recalled seeing at least two people; a teenager that looked like he was almost the age of being a man, and then a young boy, both with highly freckled faces and clipped, messy auburn hair, who seemed to take turns looking down at him in concern. He wasn't sure why they were so worried about him, and he thought he was speaking but he couldn't remember what he said.
Then he saw what he knew was Dean, the man without a face. Hands reaching toward him with fingers outstretched in a way that was strained, but just not close enough to touch. Daniel tried to call his name, but it was also taken from him. Stolen straight from his lips just like the rest of him had been stolen from his head. He was empty and confused, his heart aching for the source of a name he couldn't say.
Nothing was making any sense, and Daniel pleaded with anyone who could hear him to stop letting him dream.
The next time he opened his eyes, the lamp was off, but it was a little bit lighter around him, and his head didn't hurt as much.
The world was a faded grayish-blue, when it was still too early for sunlight but dawn was breaching into the night sky in order to ward off the darkness.
He tilted his head to the side, licking his dry lips before his eyes caught sight of the young boy he thought he'd seen earlier, who was now sitting cross legged beside him and staring intently at a small console in his hands. He was pressing the buttons with purpose, and Daniel thought that maybe it was a game of some sort before he suddenly coughed, and after a moment the movement caught the boy's attention.
He glanced up at him, setting the console down and giving him a soft smile before he scooted forward and placed his hand on Daniel's forehead. He closed his eyes as he felt the cool skin of the boys hand, and it was soothing. He wasn't sure why he was so hot, but he assumed it probably had something to do with someone telling him he was sick.
Daniel had seen his fair share of sick people, but this was a first for him. Another first, among a list of many that he'd had no preparation for or previous knowledge in recognition. He wondered if his family had ever cared for him while he was sick. Whether he'd had a mother or a father to keep him safe until he was well again.
The boy removed his hand before looking down at him with the same soft smile again, and Daniel turned his head away to let out a short string of painful coughs. He groaned and licked his lips, hating that his mouth was so dry.
"Thank you…for your help." He said softly, his voice graveled and deep, barely sounding like what he was used to. "But if I could bother you for some water…" He trailed off, losing the will to continue halfway through as his lips felt numb and painfully dry.
The boy stared down at him in confusion, swallowing hard as his fingers twitched before finally standing to his feet and quickly walking away.
Daniel shifted himself, watching the boy leave and tilting his head to follow the motion as he finally took in what was around him.
He was in an RV. A mobile home that was almost like a small apartment that moved around like a truck would. He'd seen them before, but had never been in one, being told that it was a vehicle for families and it was highly unlikely for them to pick up hitchhikers. Especially from someone who looked as he did, from the 'wrong side of the tracks' as Liza had once put it.
He was on a small cot, mere inches from the ground with another small bed up beside him and a visible, short kitchen cupboard just beside his feet. So it wasn't one of the really large ones, but had plenty of room to stand up and move around.
If Daniel hadn't felt so bone achingly terrible, he'd have been curious enough to explore it.
His gaze fell to the boy once again, who was standing beside what Daniel assumed was his older brother and moving his hands. The elder of the two was driving the vehicle, his lean and freckled arms barely visible in the slowly increasing light, but he was looking back and forth between his younger brother and the road.
Daniel watched them, something feeding him information of their quiet conversation but not being able to think straight enough to process what was wrong. He could hear it in his head and see it with their hands, but couldn't really hear their voices speaking. The younger one was asking for his brother's help to figure out what it was that Daniel needed. The elder shook his head, keeping his eyes more on the road than his sibling.
It wasn't until the elder brother actually spoke that things made more sense, and it made Daniel jump slightly. He wasn't sure what had just happened.
"I can't do both! You figure it out!" And that had ended the conversation as the younger brother looked at his sibling in frustration and stamped a foot. He turned on his heel, moving to pad softly back towards Daniel in his socked feet and too big clothing. Kneeling beside him, he gave Daniel a curious look, as if he was expecting him to say something, and that he'd have to pay really close attention this time.
Daniel swallowed hard, trying to move the sand in his throat but unsuccessfully. Something was registering in the back of his mind that this boy had another language, but not a spoken one. Without thinking about it, Daniel pulled his arm up slowly from beneath the blanket, hating how sluggish and uncomfortable he felt in his own skin. The boy tried to stop him at first, but paused when Daniel pressed his thumb and pinky finger together, making a double-u shape with his fingers and moving them to tap his first finger against his chin.
Water.
The boy stared at him wide eyed, a large smile suddenly stretching across his young face before he nodded and practically leapt to his feet to stand on tiptoe and reach for a cup at the sink.
Daniel gladly worked with him to sit up slightly as the boy helped, and was even more grateful that the boy held the cup as they bounced around whatever road lay beneath them that he couldn't see.
Feeling slightly better, he pressed his finger tips flat to his chin before moving an open palm towards the boy, letting his hand fall back to the blanket afterwards at the child's glowing smile.
"Thank you." Daniel said, and drifted back to sleep.
A crash of sound woke Daniel again, and he blinked groggily as he noticed that the interior of the RV was now filled completely with dull light.
It was muted only by the windows, but he could tell that it was somewhere near mid afternoon. Everything was much clearer than it had been and he didn't feel like his head was going to drop off of his neck anymore. A glass of water had been set beside him, and the engine to the RV was off, stilling the room around them as if it really was just in a building somewhere. It was oddly surreal.
He shifted himself upwards slowly, taking each motion cautiously just in case that awful feeling decided to simply come back without warning and hit him again. That was something he hoped he would never have to repeat, even after the rare experience of someone taking care of him. It didn't matter, no amount of special care in the world was worth feeling so awful.
Movement caught his eye, and he looked up to see the elder of the two brothers moving to set something into the sink nearby. The sound was a clang that shifted the dishes inside and answered what had previously awoken him. He turned to look at Daniel in slight surprise, wiping his hands on loose fitting jeans and moving to his side.
"Hey, you're awake. How're you feeling?"
Daniel pursed his lips, leaning forward with his hands settling in his lap before he looked around cautiously, glad that the dizziness was gone enough that he could do that.
"Much better, thank you." He responded softly, one hand moving to wipe at the fuzz lingering in his eyes.
The boy nodded, a small smile on his face, but it looked almost forced. Like he wasn't used to it, or hadn't done so in a long while.
"So you can hear." He stated, matter of factly. "Shannon said you were signing to him earlier, but I think he was seeing things." The smile broadened, and Daniel assumed that it was because he was speaking of his brother. There was a slightly familiar warmth there, something barely lighting within him like it was the memory of a memory and all he was allowed was the feeling it produced.
He wasn't sure what to say, however, as he didn't know what the boy meant.
"Shannon is…"
"My little brother. The scrawny redhead you've seen crawling around here with that DS of his. We've been taking turns watching over you, you had a hell of a fever there for a few days, but I think it was just the normal stuff. Not like that demon flu or anything…" He trailed off, and although there were quite a few things he was saying that Daniel didn't really understand, the message still got across. He'd gotten used to that, and was resigned to the fact that there would be many things he may never understand.
"My name is Daniel." He said instead, leaving the horrors unsaid between them.
"Sam." The boy grinned, his smile much brighter than it had been before. "And this is our home."
He felt like the name the boy said should have meant something, his eyes narrowing for a moment as the feeling grew at the sound of how he pronounced it. But it was only for a moment before it was gone again. Daniel took in a slow breath.
"I appreciate what you've done. I don't know where I would be now if not for your kindness. Can I ask where we are?"
Sam laughed, almost in disbelief.
"Wow, you're like, really polite. We're in Fort Collins, Colorado. My brother and I are on our way to Wyoming. Just another stop on the long line of the new Trail of Tears, right? There's a school there that I'm gonna take him to so he can get the help he needs."
Daniel listened carefully, filtering through what he did and didn't comprehend. He'd once been close to the eastern coast, but was now a good distance to the west in a state he'd never been in. It explained why the air was so dry and why he had to take deeper breaths to get in a lung full. Someone had told him once that Colorado was all mountains and the air was thinner. It was also a bit cooler than he'd been used to recently.
But he didn't understand what it was that they were traveling to. A school he could understand, he knew that children attended them in order to learn from their elders, but had he missed something?
"Why? Is something wrong with him?"
Just as he asked, the door was suddenly wrenched open and Shannon came bounding in, his hair lit up to almost a fluorescent red by the light of the sun. He pulled the door closed behind him and greeted them with a large, toothy smile.
Sam made a strange noise and Daniel looked back at his expression of disbelief.
"Wow, you must have really been out of it, you kidding me? Shannon's deaf. He can't hear a damn thing."
Daniel tilted his head slightly, eyes moving from one brother to the other as Shannon suddenly lifted his hands up and started to move them.
It was effortless, something that he didn't even need to think about as his eyes watched the motions and read them as if he was reading from a book. Shannon pointed to Daniel before dragging his middle finger up the center of his chest, eyebrows raised in question.
Daniel gave him a small nod, giving him a thumbs up and touching his fingers to his chin before offering the open palm. All while speaking at the same time.
"Much better, thank you." He repeated, saying the same thing he'd said to Sam.
"Hey!" Sam said, his hands suddenly moving too, now that his little brother was in the room. "You said you didn't sign!"
Daniel shook his head in confusion.
"I said nothing. Is this what you meant?"
"Well, duh. How do you know how to do that?"
"Do what?"
"That. Sign language. Talking with your hands. Communicating through motions. The thing you are totally doing, like, right now."
Daniel looked down at his hands and it was as if it was just occurring to him that he was doing anything different. He paused, looking down at himself before looking back at Sam with wide eyes.
"I don't know."
Sam and Shannon had been traveling for nearly a month on their own. Another broken family that had lost what was important to them, while realizing what was important at the same time.
They were nearly eight years apart, looked very much like each other, and took care of one another rather fiercely. Especially with the 'disadvantage' that wasn't a handicap so much as it was a bother to everyone else, they said. Because it didn't bother the two of them one bit.
Daniel didn't know how to explain why he could understand them, or how he knew the things he did about 'sign language', but it was just going to be another one of those things. The two had been traveling from Florida to the opposite side of the country with the only home they had left and each other. Everything else, Daniel assumed had to be left behind.
He found that he was fascinated with the way they dealt with one another. He hadn't had much interaction with families or children aside from what he'd seen at the community center, and that had been from a great distance. They annoyed and relied on and loved each other all at the same time, and it was dizzying to try and comprehend how that worked.
Maybe he'd had a brother, or a sister that couldn't hear. A child who couldn't, perhaps. He still didn't see much association with the child that Brian had mentioned of Jimmy's, but that didn't mean that one didn't exist somewhere. Or that he'd lost it all in the war just as everyone else seemed to have.
What he did know, was that he was alive, and feeling much better now that whatever had ailed him had run its course.
He was trying with great difficulty to ignore the nagging feelings that kept creeping up on him, however. Those reminders and memories of the horrors that had taken place on the deserted highway in Alabama. When he'd asked Sam about the man that he'd been with on the road, he'd shaken his head with an unreadable expression, lips pursed. It was enough for Daniel to know that the man had died.
Whether or not it had been by his hands or the demon inside him, he would never really be sure, and it chipped another bit off of the humanity he was desperately clinging to.
The boys had somehow blessedly grabbed a hold of Daniel's backpack when they'd picked him up, and he couldn't believe how far his luck had gone with it. All of his life was within that small, fraying satchel, and it had been more or less the equivalent of security to him. It was the only thing he still had from Detroit, and inside were the only things he'd kept from his previous life.
The life he didn't remember; where he wore a casual suit with a tie and a tan trench coat overtop.
He left them in the bottom of his pack where they'd been since the day he'd put them there, choosing instead to pull out the worn and faded map that had been his traveling companion since the beginning. The boys were both outside of the RV, Sam with the keys of course, and were getting some well needed exercise according to Shannon.
Since Daniel was still recovering, he'd vouched for staying where he was for a day more, hoping that the queasiness would leave him now that the fever had and he'd be able to eat normally again. At the moment, he was enjoying the luxury of saltines and Gatorade, and hating every second of it.
He unfolded the map on the floor in front of him, watching as his entire world opened and with the colorful sections of the United States lingering beneath him. There were lines drawn over a great deal of the major highways, all that he'd traveled down, and he pulled out a marker from his bag in order to finish the line he'd started with Molly.
It saddened him for a moment when he thought of her, and how she must picture him now, but he was more concerned that she be safe than what she thought of her strange companion. He hoped she didn't think ill of him, though he had essentially saved her life, he hadn't meant to and especially hadn't meant to scare her.
It was an odd sensation, knowing what he could do without actually knowing it at all. Like watching his reflection move in a mirror when he thought he was standing still.
He focused back on the map, realizing that he wasn't really sure what roads Sam took in order to get them there, and it wasn't like he remembered the journey anyway. He circled Fort Collins instead, scribbling in their first names as small as he could and leaving it at that. Each of the drawn lines had a name on them, but it was only ever a first name and nothing more. There were hundreds of them.
Daniel placed his finger idly on the map, pointing to Denver which was the closest large city before following 70 back towards Kansas and the direction he'd originally been heading. He had no real interest in going to Wyoming, so once he was back to himself again he would part ways with the brothers and had told them so.
They knew that he was missing the memories of nearly his entire life and that he was on a search across the country to figure out who he was. It was a broad description, but it worked, and they seemed to accept it without asking anything more.
Nothing was ever asked about how they'd found him, or why he'd been covered in blood. Daniel almost didn't want any memories back of this horrible war if seeing and accepting something like that had become the norm.
He'd offered whatever he could to them in exchange, but neither of the boys had let him do anything aside from take up space. There was something about being able to help him, being able to treat him and have him get better with their help, that meant the world to them.
Daniel could respect that.
His thoughts derailed slightly just before he got his finger across the map to Kansas City, silently reading a city name that suddenly made his stomach curl in slightly in a way that had nothing to do with being sick.
His finger had stopped on Lawrence, Kansas. A small city that was in between two large ones on the I-70 that shouldn't have meant much of anything to him. But it had, and he stopped for a moment to run through what he might possibly know. Was he still getting those feelings after all? That he should be doing something, or there was still something he'd missed?
His eyes narrowed, and he thought back to recent events. The demons in Alabama, nothing really eventful or interesting in either Tennessee or Arkansas, the time he'd spent in Oklahoma…nothing was really ringing a bell. What was before that?
And then he remembered, an odd sensation when he'd been able to access so little else.
Sioux Falls.
The man in the ball cap, when he'd been going off on his rant thinking that Daniel was just another fool who wanted to invade his privacy. He'd mentioned that there was no memorial at his place like the one that was in Lawrence.
A memorial to whom? To Dean?
The door opened and Daniel jumped, capping his marker quickly and placing it back into his bag. Sam walked up and into the RV, clicking the door behind him and looking absolutely worn out. He shook his head muttering irritatingly about annoying little brothers, and how he can never keep up even though he really isn't that old, and shouldn't be having these problems with a damn ten year old midget who thought he could take over the world.
It made Daniel smile.
"Shannon will probably be taller than you when he is older too." He said, unsure where exactly he was getting his information from, but it sounded like it was correct.
Sam stopped and stared at him.
"What?" Daniel asked, unsure if he'd said something all that offensive.
"So you speak Spanish now?"
Daniel blinked.
"What?"
"When I walked in the door, I was speaking in Spanish, a language that isn't English, and you understood me. How many languages do you speak, man?"
Daniel couldn't reply with anything more than an 'I don't know', as it hadn't occurred to him that there was anything else being spoken but English.
Daniel said his goodbye's the next day, still not feeling back to his old self, but glad enough to be back on his feet in general. Sitting around just didn't work for him, as he'd rather be involved with something than sit on his hands and let the world pass by. It seemed like there was still too much left for him to do, so he made the decision to go.
He felt he would miss Shannon, as the two had enjoyed their conversations together and had shared a great deal. The child was only ten, but had more memory of his lifetime than Daniel did. It made it easier for him to 'speak' to him than anyone else he'd met so far, and their views on the world were actually rather similar.
It reemphasized to him why it was that people kept calling him 'kid', as that may very be the reason entirely. In a way, he really was one.
He refrained from touching the brothers as much as possible, be it by a hug or a handshake, or even passing something to them, Daniel was starting to fear what his touch would do to others. He didn't like how skittish it was making him to avoid it, but the alternative seemed less likely if his power wasn't invoked upon.
There was no anger he felt towards the brothers in the slightest, but the powerful vengeance that had built up within him at the sight of Molly's bleeding stomach had fueled a righteousness that he couldn't begin to understand the source of. He wanted to believe that he was still human, and in doing so, was ready to deny the strangeness in him as often as he possibly could.
But it was getting more and more difficult each time.
He didn't know what he was going to find in Lawrence. But honestly, and since he really did have nothing more than a name and a feeling, he was hoping that since it was a memorial that had been erected there, maybe he would finally be able to see what Dean had once looked like.
Completing the only broken picture that seemed in his power to fix.
