Chapter 45: Hunted
The night was dark, darker than the darkest kind of black. It sank around the desolate landscape, hiding the twisted trees from view. Out of all the roads in Indiana, only one lead out to the house. There were no crossroads; no signs pointing the way back to civilization except one lone exit onto a nearby highway. But it was miles away and the face of the sign had been hidden by overgrown bushes. Rhododendrons with their puffy flowers and the needle hands of the lambkill kalmia filled in the open spaces between the tall trunks of the beech, yellowwood, and white birch trees covering the landscape. There were many more trees, each with it's own genus and name. Some had been imported from far away countries like Japan and Korea. While some had been converted to the local flavor, most trees whose descendants were brought by man remained at least bilingual, if not eschewing their nonnative tongue all together. These were trees left to grow wild and unchecked by man. They had no concept of strip malls or parks. They merely stood and witnessed time. Their roots had yet to extend out into the road as the different breeds were still in heated competition for the best sunlight. Their infighting left little room for expansion, even of the most mundane kind. For when one tree spread its roots in an effort to broaden its territory, another was there to block it. And so, with their minds always focused inward, they left the road alone.
The road was not much of a prize worth winning. The ages had left it muddy by nature, and it was filled with ditches, potholes, and suspension destroying ruts. Still, broken and deadly as it was to the wandering car the road remained in existence. There was nothing truly special about it. Beneath the overhead sky the road wound snakelike on it's journey. The wild state of its surrounding populace was the hammer to the empirical data that the road hadn't been long abandoned by man. Still, the gales came every year during the wet season and the sweeping rain of each tempest washed a little more of the road away. It decayed with each passing year. Remaining unused as other roads, highways, and interstates received loving attention from construction workers. But there was a rhyme to why the state allowed this road it's slow death. Simply put by many bureaucrats, there was no reason to come out here. On the abandoned stretch of land between the interstate 65 and 74, the road led away from the city of Lafayette. Here in the depths of Indiana. The road existed under the same sky, underneath the blackness and the dots of cold stars. The road, like all the creatures of mankind, lived out its life beneath the ambiguous moon. With all the murders the moon had witnessed, the silent observer, the road could not understand how it maintained it's pure glow. The road itself seemed to be suffering from it's distinct and violent past. Serial killers, and generations of rapists had all at one point used this place. This lair hidden from the eyes of society. But the innocence of the road in these matters could not be questioned. It is not in the nature of the road to guess where it leads. Nor is it in its nature to question the morality of its passengers. It simply goes on. It was on one evening, like many evenings that the overhead moon had begun to wane. It's silver light bleeding across the lonely road and the cold house at its end.
The house was old, rickety, and it was falling apart. The roof was beginning to cave under the strain of branches fallen during the last winter's storm. Old Barry Manhattan's place. In days long past it'd been a hunting lodge, a place of quiet tranquility and a taxidermy back when animals still lived in the forest. Now, only the crickets remained on hand to sing and they made a fine snack for the local flock of birds, who made the forest their home. These little mocking creatures roosted in the eves of the rundown building labeled 5637, mimicking their prey in long ballads about crunchy bugs and tasty flesh on the warm nights. But they were the only residents of Barry Manhattan's old hunting lodge. Abandoned for many years, the yard was still filled with all kinds of junk. Rusting car engines lay strewn along the side of the house; their noses buried face down in the thick mud. A moth eaten mattress stood tipped up against the side of the house, its fluff hanging down like loose intestines as the casual wind brushed against protruding springs. On the roof and shaped like a rooster, a jammed wind vane stood forever with it's beak pointing north. This was in spite of Nature's best attempts to convince it otherwise. In the dark beneath the layers of peeling white washed paint and the tagged gang signs, the molding planks groaned.
Headlights flashed in the distance. Bright and yellow they preceded the rundown Ford steadily rumbling up the road. Probably stolen. It's tires bumped along the long dirt stretch as the engine rattled and the transmission hummed like a hornets nest. The car rolled to a stop several feet down the driveway, and a cautious young man stepped out. His boots sinking into the mud and leaving a deep impression of his sneaker's sole as he squished across the yard. Checking the small slip of paper that he held in one hand, the tall man looked around. He sucked in a deep breath, his lungs filling with excess air as he exhaled. This place was quiet, too quiet. He looked around, and then motioned coolly with his free hand. A young woman with shoulder length brunette hair slid out, her feet landing in a large pool of grime and muck. It splashed up her leg, and she bit her lip. Grumbling unhappily, she looked up at the sky with bright golden eyes, then she glanced back at the man. He flipped his hand, indicating they should move forward. The girl nodded. She followed him along a wall heavily tagged with black spray paint. Gang logos, upside down triangles, and other unrecognizable symbols. The man only looked at house numbers again, rechecking to see if they were at the correct destination. The girl merely shrugged, her eyes glowing as she assessed the area. There was something off about her. The man didn't seem to notice at all. He stepped up onto the porch. The planks moaned beneath his weight like a lover discovering a new caress. The man paused for a moment, checking around him to see if anyone had noticed. Then he glanced back over his shoulder at the girl and said something. She shrugged and motioned for him to go on ahead. The man continued across the deck, his sneakers carefully silent as he avoided loose boards. Termites had already eaten half the supports and portions of the wooden porch, turning them into unstable pulp. The woman, light on her feet, followed the man's steps with precision. From a far off view it looked as if she was mocking him. The man peered inside the house through an opening in the boarded windows. Worriedly, he glanced back at her and then motioned for her to go around him. She did, the boards creaking beneath her as she rounded the side of the house, and knelt to examine the lock on the door. Sucking in a deep breath, she whistled softly as the man walked around behind her. The door swung open. They glanced at one another.
Inside the once gleaming walls were stripped bare. Charred remains of newspaper and ash littered the floor, whispering as the pair stepped inside. The man went first. He moved silently along the walls, his hand hidden in his coat pocket and he held it out in front of him. In the moonlight the outline of a gun barrel glittered through the cloth. He looked around the edge of the wall. There was nothing. The only sound to be heard was that of his own anxious breath, and the steady whispering intake of the girl bringing up the rear. Satisfied that there was nothing, his eyes moved across the shadows flickering on the walls. Sure that it was safe, he stepped forward. His foot moved through a small wire at the level of his ankle. There was a click. As if in slow motion his eyes moved sideways. Seeing the pin fly free from the grenade plastered to the wall, his eyes widened with shock. Behind him, the golden-eyed girl moved.
"Get down!" Came the yell. Hands went forward, seizing the jacket of the man, shoving him down. Then, the world erupted in yellow and red. Walls exploded as charred wooden pieces flew across the hallway. Blood spattered the remainder of the walls. As the smoke cleared, a single shoe lay smoking on the concrete floor.
In Peoria, Illinois Ava Wilson sat bolt upright in her bed, gasping for breath. Lifting a palm to rub across her sweaty forehead she looked around her empty apartment. Beside her, fiancée Brady continued to slumber. Trying to convince herself it was just a dream, Ava lay her head back down against her pillow and shut her eyes.
The Roadhouse, Wyoming
It was six hours after dawn, two weeks later when Sam and Kelly walked through the creaking old wooden door of the roadhouse. On their long journey to Ellen's Sam had divulged the rest of his dealings about the Yellow Eyed Demon to Kelly. He told her about Max Miller, when the Yellow Eyed Demon had possessed their father in the events leading up to Dean's coma. Sam revealed Dean's suspicion that they're father had made a deal with the Yellow Eyed son of a bitch to restore him to life. Sam told her about what had occurred with Andy Gallagher and his twin brother before Kelly had fallen into his brother's lap. Then, with great uncertainty, he told her about the events of Croatoan during her months spent training under Bobby, and his immunity to the demon virus. Kelly knew everything now, or at least she thought she did. Sam had withheld one key piece of information. What John Winchester had told Dean minutes before his fatal heart attack. That Dean might one day have to kill me. It wasn't that Sam didn't trust Kelly enough to tell her. It wasn't that. Not really. No, Sam didn't want Kelly worrying about anything else. She was already in enough trouble with Dean, and it seemed unfair to cloud the future with a thought so unpleasant. She'd come on this journey because she said she wanted to help him. Because that's what friends do. Apparently. She would be facing the Yellow Eyed Demon soon enough, it would be good if she learned more about him. At least, that's what Sam told himself.
Following Kelly across the smooth floorboards to the rousing tunes jerkily expectorating from the juke box, Sam walked slowly. He didn't mind being behind her. In fact, it was somewhat gratifying. The door shut behind him and several sets of eyes snapped in the direction of the sound. Including those of Ellen Harvelle, who was calmly cleaning a glass mug behind the bar. When she saw them her lips pursed together, Kelly smiled hesitantly back.
"Hey Ellen." Kelly said. Her gaze falling guiltily on toes of her brown cowboy boots as the woman's sharp eyes moved over her.
"You're damn right it's hello." Ellen said. She leaned across the bar. "Do you know how much trouble you're in young lady? Running off on Bobby and the Winchester boys without so much as a note. Had most of us up here at the bar worried sick." She crossed her arms over her chest. "And now from what I hear you've done it again." Kelly winced as Ellen's sharp tone hammered into her. It was hard to be strong against Ellen. Fighting against her was like fighting an avalanche, Kelly could try standing in the way but Ellen would just keep barreling on. She'd steam roll right over her. Even after only a brief interaction and months of separation, Kelly still knew the best course of action was to bow her head and get out of the way. Sam cleared his throat. Ellen glanced at him. "Yeah." She said. Her hands on her hips. "Dean's been callin', worried sick, looking for you'." Ellen glanced at Kelly again. "Both of you."
"Figured he might." Sam nodded. He smiled and looked down at his feet as Kelly slid past him and onto one of the barstools. Ellen's eyes were still on Kelly as Sam spoke, and the girl squirmed uncomfortably under her gaze. Ellen had a sharp eye, and Kelly wondered if she'd guessed at the relationship between Kelly and the older Winchester. She hoped not, but when Dean got desperate his emotions started breaking through the nonchalant façade.
"Doesn't surprise me." Kelly mumbled.
"Didn't think it would." Ellen smiled. Her gaze still on Kelly as Sam tried to avoid making eye contact. "Can I get you something to drink honey?" The girl smiled up at her, and Ellen was surprised to see the shift in her features. It was subtle, but she'd become more angular, gaunt even, and her eyes were no longer the mahogany shade that Ellen remembered. No they seemed to stand undecided between gold and brown, mercurially shifting between the two beneath the overhead lights.
"Water." Kelly said. Ellen nodded.
She glanced back at Sam and asked. "What's going on between you two?"
And why do you have Kelly? Why isn't she with Dean? Sam thought as he finished the unspoken half of Ellen's question. Ellen handed Kelly a glass of water as the girl shifted in her seat, staring down into the clear liquid determinedly. From where Sam was standing, it seemed like she'd thrown her usual spunk thrown right out the window.
Kelly liked Ellen a lot. But the truth was that she didn't want to be questioned too closely about her reasons for leaving Dean and following Sam. Somehow, she doubted that a statement like 'for the sake of a friend' would fly past Ellen's bullshit detector. At the very least it wouldn't make it through unscathed. Kelly had no desire to leave the Roadhouse limping. She wanted to make it through this interview intact. At least with as little lying as possible. She didn't like to lie, and she especially didn't want to lie to Ellen. She didn't look up from her drink when Sam spoke.
"How's Jo?" Sam's voice thickened as he tried to change the subject. Ellen smiled and shook her head. She looked down and blinked.
"Something happen?" Kelly asked.
Ellen glanced at her. The girl had lifted her head and was looking up at her. The curiosity in her eyes didn't belie Ellen's suspicions. Those two never really got along did they? She thought. So, why's she worrying about Jo? Was it all for the sake of conversation? Sucking in a deep breath, she replied. "Well, I don't really know."
"What do you mean?" Sam asked.
"I ain't seen her in weeks." Ellen said. The older woman shrugged. "She sends a postcard now and again."
Kelly took a long sip of the water. Her eyes on a point behind Ellen, her nose detecting subtle shifts in the chemical make up of Ellen's scent. Embarrassment, shame, discomfort. Those were the starting point. This was an uncomfortable topic of conversation for Ellen. But it does distract from the Dean question. Suddenly, her fingers itched to reach into her pocket and check her messages. She'd been gone two weeks. He was obviously worried, mostly over Sam. And I left just when things were starting to get better. Karma would probably bite her for that. I'm never able to stick with a good thing. He was probably jealous again, maybe he'd forgive her if she promised him a lap dance in the stripper costume. That wouldn't be so bad right? He'd believe that she was just friends with Sam, right? "What happened?" She asked. Her voice came out slowly, almost stuttering. Sam leaned down on the bar, his expression doubly earnest. Kelly could practically feel the concern emanating out of his soft brown eyes as he gazed with Ellen. She sniffed. There was a bit of guilt mixed in with the sugary scent of worry. It peppered Sam's scent.
"Well," Ellen said. She pulled another glass out from underneath the bar and stuck it under the tap. Filling it full of dark amber liquid Ellen set the mug in front of Sam. "After she worked that job with you boys… and girl." Ellen nodded to Kelly who lifted her glass and took another sip of water. "She decided she wanted to keep on huntin'. I said not under my roof, and she said fine." Ellen looked away, Sam sighed, looked down and then over at Kelly. She shrugged.
"We're sorry, Ellen." Kelly said. She met Sam's eyes and smiled a little. The younger Winchester brother's lips twitched. Kelly's heart skipped a little beat at the expression on his face. Blinking she looked away, and smiled at Ellen. "Sam and I are probably the last people you want to see right now." She shifted uncomfortably on the barstool.
"Kelly, honey, you are welcome to stay with me anytime." Ellen replied. Sam lifted the cup to his lips and drank deeply. These days it felt like it was never too early to start drinking. Maybe he was starting to take after Dean. "On paper you're my niece, and while that might not let me stop you from hunting." She cast a rough glare in Sam's direction. The younger Winchester drained the mug. "That still makes you family."
"So, I'm the only unwelcome one?" Sam asked. His throat felt itchy.
Ellen snorted. "Don't get me wrong." She smiled. "I wish I could blame the hell out of you boys." Ellen said. "Truth is, it's not your fault." Sam looked up from his empty mug, still uncertain about meeting her eyes. His gaze made it as far as the midsection of Ellen's neck. "Sam." His lips pursed. "None of it is." Sam's gaze fell back down to the smooth surface of the bar as he tried to count the greasy fingerprints. He was both comforted and unnerved to hear her forgive him. Still warmth bloomed his chest, growing steadily stronger as Kelly reached out to put a comforting hand on his shoulder. Sam couldn't bring himself to look at her. She was his brother's girlfriend, but despite all his claims to the contrary, he couldn't fight the way she made his heart flutter. "I want you to know that I forgave your daddy a long time ago." Ellen said. "For what happened to my Bill." She shook her head, a haunted expression passing over her eyes, and then she looked back at him. "I just don't think he ever forgave himself."
Kelly let her hand stay on Sam's shoulder for another moment or two as the entire group sat in silence. Finally, Sam asked. "What did happen?" There was another pause as Ellen looked away and then down.
"So." She said. She glanced from Kelly to Sam. "Why did you come here sweetie?" Kelly's gaze flicked to Sam and then back to Ellen, who smiled. "Kelly, honey, I'm assuming you're here because of the knucklehead in question."
"Smart guess." Kelly smiled. She wondered how easily her lies would get past Ellen. "He didn't want Dean around, so I figured I'd offer my services." Sam doesn't feel the need to prove himself to me. She thought. Chewing on her lip, she glanced at Sam.
That's not the whole story though, is it? Ellen wanted to ask. But she held her tongue. Kelly's business was Kelly's business, something the headstrong young woman had made very clear in her past actions. And challenging that. Trying to dig to expose the truth, well, that could lead to Ellen alienating her. I don't want to lose another member of my family. So she wouldn't ask. Instead, she'd just wonder. Are you in love with Sam or Dean? Dean had sounded pretty worried on their frequent phone conversations. Not to mention paranoid. He couldn't seem to figure out why Kelly had gone off with Sam. Poor boy.
"I need help." Sam said. His words bringing Ellen out of her thoughts and back down to earth.
"All right." She said. "Let's see what we can do." Sam grinned thankfully at Ellen before he turned to Kelly. She smiled back, and Ellen noted a gentleness in the girl's eyes as she looked at the younger Winchester. Somehow, Ellen didn't doubt that the girl was in love with Dean. Still, Sam seemed to have an effect on her.
Several hours later Ash had turned up a small set of sources about children whose mothers had died in nursery fires. It didn't cover all the potential special children, many of whose mothers hadn't been murdered while they were sleeping in their cribs. But Sam needed a place to start, and the best way was at the beginning with the familiar. It was something that his father had taught him. As had turned up four leads who fit the profile after Ash had done a nationwide search. It was disappointing that they'd turned up so few results, but Sam knew that a single clue was better than none at all. The names were all people he'd met before, Max Miller, Andrew Gallagher, and himself. However the last was someone new, Scott Carey.
"You got an address?" Sam asked.
"Kind of." Ash replied. "The Arbor Hills Cemetery, plot 486. Lafayette, Indiana."
Beside Sam, Kelly sighed. "Well, that's basically a dead end." Kelly glanced from one face to the other, and a few minutes later the weight of the pun hit Sam. "Get it?" She asked. "Dead end?" Sam groaned.
"Bad puns not withstanding." Ash said.
"No one gets me." Kelly sighed. Sam glanced back over his shoulder at her, he couldn't stop his lips from twitching into a smile. She looked so forlorn. Sam was glad to see her recovering her armor. She'd been unusually quiet most of the trip, and aside from a few pointed questions during his story Kelly had kept quiet. He'd seen a side that was different from her usually strong willed personality. In some ways it reminded him of what she'd been like back when they'd first met. When she was still scared of everything. Including the dark.
Ash glanced at her, his eyebrows quivering with annoyance. "He was killed about a month ago."
I guess I'm not as verbally stimulating as Dean. Sam thought. He paused for a second to consider the irony in that statement. "Killed?" Sam asked. "How?"
"Stabbed." Ash said. "Parking lot." He shrugged as Kelly took Sam's beer and drank a long swig. Sam knew better than to call her out on it. She was just being herself. Instead, he kept his eyes on Ash. "Local authorities don't have much. No suspects."
Sam nodded. It would probably be better if they hit the road soon. He nudged Kelly, who finished the rest of the beer. Taking the information from Ash, he said. "Alright, thank you." Then Sam stood. Kelly watched as he headed for the door, she turned back to Ellen.
"Thank you, Ash." She said. "You're a miracle worker." Her voice earnest as she looked at him, her lips curved in an almost cheerful smile. "This really helps a lot." Ash started at her for a long moment, and then he grumbled something unintelligible. From the words keys, she figured it was about magic fingers. Taking another long draft of his beer, Ash looked away from her. Feeling the burn of dismissal, Kelly turned to Ellen. "And you, Ellen." She added. "I'll remember what you said." She looked into the older woman's eyes, wishing that she could completely express her gratitude over Ellen's claiming her as family, and giving her a place to stay. If she wanted it.
"Your boy's by the door." Ash mumbled into his glass. Startled, Kelly glanced up her eyes searching the doorway. But she only found Sam standing there, looking impatient.
"Then I best be off." Kelly said. She shrugged, and then leaned back on her heels. Turning quickly, she headed after Sam.
"Where are you going?" Ellen asked. The high, emotional note of worry in her voice made Kelly pause. From his position by the doorway, Sam also looked back.
"Lafayette, Indiana." Kelly said. She glanced at Sam, and he nodded.
"Sam. Kelly." Ellen shook her head. "I gotta call Dean, I gotta let him know where you are." Kelly had just reached Sam, when she turned around. This was the younger Winchester's show, and she was just along for the ride. Doesn't matter if I want to find out about the Yellow Eyed Demon too. This was his search, and if anyone was going to convince Ellen not to call his brother, it would have to be Sam. He didn't let her down.
"Ellen." Sam said. His voice patient and filled with honesty. "I'm trying to find answers, about who I am." He looked away. "And my brother means well but he can't protect me from that."
Ellen lifted her head. "And I suppose she can?" Kelly flinched at the finger suddenly pointed in her direction. "For god's sake Sam, she's barely more than a child." Kelly growled softly beside Sam, that stung. She wasn't a child. She could take care of herself.
"I'm looking out for her." Sam said. "Nothing'll happen to her while she's with me."
"And nothing will happen to him, while he's with me." Kelly retorted. She hated it when they started talking about her like she wasn't there. "That's a promise, Ellen." A small smile broke across Ellen's lips at Kelly's statement.
"Please." Sam said. Ellen paused, then she sighed. Kelly could see her breaking underneath the weight of Sam's desperation. Then she nodded.
"Fine." She said. Then she glanced at Kelly. "But if I so much as hear about you breakin' a nail." She lifted a warning finger. "Then I'm calling Dean."
Then you won't hear about any broken nails, bones, or gunshot wounds. "Deal." Kelly said. With a shake of Ellen's head, Kelly pushed Sam out the door. It would be a long drive to Indiana from Wyoming, and Kelly wanted to get a start on it as quickly as possible. She doubted that Ellen would keep their secret long, especially if Dean called her while they were out on the road. Still, Kelly hoped that it would give them enough time to find some answers. And having a small lead is better than not having one at all. As she climbed into their third stolen car, she glanced at Sam. His face was a mask of purpose, and she figured that now wouldn't be the best time to talk to him. "Think she'll squeal?" She asked. Shutting to door with a loud clang, she buckled in beside Sam. The younger Winchester pressed together the wires underneath the steering wheel, starting the engine. He didn't say anything. Kelly sighed and settled back into the seat. She knew that this would be a long trip. And me without anything to talk about. "Fine." She sighed. "Don't talk to me."
Sam looked up as his right hand shifted gears, and the car backed down out of the driveway. "What's there to talk about Kelly?" Sam asked. "Ellen said she wouldn't tell Dean where we were going."
"But she probably will." Kelly said.
"Probably." Sam conceded. "Either way we'll still be in Indiana by the time Dean finds out." He glanced at her. The sneaking suspicion about her reasoning that had been unraveling his confidence during the trip suddenly coming into the light. "Unless." He muttered. "You want him to find us." He watched as Kelly's expression darkened. Her golden brown eyes snapped towards him and Sam heard a soft growl pass through her lips.
"Of course not." She snapped.
"But you miss him?" Sam asked. He suspected this was the case, even so, he wanted her to confirm it. Instead, Kelly retaliated with a different question.
"Don't you miss Madison?" She asked. Her eyebrows rose challengingly as she looked at him. Suddenly, Sam realized that all the shyness she'd had in Ellen's presence was now drifting away on the evening tide and he was currently running to catch up. Sam swallowed. Either way, her question was a low blow. Why was she reminding him about Madison? There was a long pause. "I'll take you're silence as a yes." She said. Sam stiffened.
"What would you know about it?" He asked. His voice harsh and heavy with pent up emotion. It was like her words had broken a dam inside him, and now the feelings were flooding out. "You? Kelly? You don't remember anything!" He snarled. "Not what it's like to have a family, or siblings, or loved ones. You don't remember the people you loved before you came here." Kelly flinched. He was being harsh and it hurt. She knew he was mostly angry about Madison, but that didn't change the impact of his words. It was frightening to see Sam start spinning out of control. Unable to stop himself, Sam continued. "So what the hell would you know about losing someone? Who have you lost? Who have you let down? Who have you failed Kelly? That's right, you haven't yet." His fingers tightened around the steering wheel until the knuckles turned white. "What the hell would you know?" He growled. "You can't compare with what I've lost. My mother, my father, Jessica, and now Madison! Everything is being taken from me. Everything." Damn. He'd thought he'd come to terms with Madison's loss weeks ago. So why was he shouting at her now? Maybe it had something to do with putting a bullet in her chest. Maybe that was it. But he'd chosen that. Because she asked me to. And even though Madison had told him this was how he could save her… Sam Winchester didn't believe it. He couldn't look at Kelly, not right now, he didn't want to face her. Instead Sam glared straight ahead, his eyes fixing on the flat landscape, the winding road, and the far away horizon. "And now, after everything, you're taking Dean from me." Or is Dean taking her away?
Kelly's nails buried into the flesh of her palm and she gritted her teeth. A lot of things. She wanted to say. I've failed a lot of innocents. People have died. Who knew, maybe her actions this time had finally resulted in her losing Dean. Kelly swallowed. Instead she bit her tongue, she wasn't going to take the bait and fight with Sam. That wasn't what she wanted, and it sure as hell wasn't what their trip was about. Kelly sucked in a deep breath through her nostrils and, silently, she listened to Sam's voice grow softer.
"How am I supposed to live with being a third wheel, Kelly? Huh? How the hell am I supposed to live when everyone keeps leaving me?" Kelly swallowed. She stared down at her hands. She wanted to retaliate but Sam was in real pain. "Answer me!"
"I can't." She said. Her voice was small. I've lost... Her mind trailed off, her voice choking in her throat. Can you kill me? What would her future be? In the face of Sam's rage why didn't she fight back? Why was she lying down at taking this like a whipped dog? Because Sam needs to vent. So no matter how much it hurt, she had to take it.
"Dammit!" Sam swore. Why did you love him and not me? He asked. His eyes setting on a point in the distant horizon. Why didn't you save me from loving Madison? Why was she here now? Why aren't you with Dean? Why do you keep torturing me like this? She was sitting next to him, had chosen to follow him, and yet he still couldn't kiss her or touch her hair. He couldn't snuggle with her in bed. Damn. Why did I have to lose Madison?
"Sam?" Kelly's voice was soft and tentative. It wasn't afraid, no, Sam wouldn't have been able to take it if she was afraid of him.
I'm not that scary now right? He'd needed to find answers. The answers everyone seemed to be denying him. The truth about himself. He needed this mission, he needed the distraction. So, why did I let another distraction come along? He asked himself. Because she threatened to wake Dean if I didn't. But that wasn't the real reason. No, he could have made it out of the parking lot before Kelly reached his brother and been long gone. So why had he brought her with him? Sam sighed. "It's fine." He muttered. His eyes still on that far distant point. "I'm fine."
"Good." Kelly retorted. Crossing her arms across her chest, she sank deeper into her seat. They drove in silence for the rest of the day, trying not to look at one another. This was how they passed the entire trip. In contemplative silence, Sam tried not to think about Madison and Kelly tried to shut Dean out of her mind. Neither were very successful, and the more Sam thought about the Yellow Eyed Demon the angrier he grew. The silence didn't calm him down. Instead, it made his blood boil. He would find the solution to his family's nightmare. He would get revenge for his mother and for Jess. And he would do it after he'd finally figured out what the Demon wanted. Then Sam Winchester would pull the trigger of Samuel Colt's Colt and watch the Yellow Eyed Demon die. Yes, then Sam Winchester would watch the Yellow Eyed Demon die.
AN: That's right, we're finally into Hunted. Yay, huzzah, all that jazz. I've been busy with school so it took a little while to write the chapter and put it up, but I'm very eager to get done with this arc too, so it shouldn't be as long as the last one. *crosses fingers. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it, I'm sorry there wasn't a lot of Dean but I haven't gotten to focus on Sammy much during this story and I really wanted to. So we'll be seeing a lot more of Sam and Kelly's interactions (unfortunately they don't flow quite as well as Dean and Kelly's when I'm trying to come up with conversations... Darn it Sam!) Hopefully, I'll have the next chapter up soon. So keep a weather eye out! In the next chapter there will be more Kelly fun, Ava, and hopefully some Gordon.
Remember, I love reviews. So please tell me how you liked it.
