Chapter 12- Here Comes The Sun
The next few weeks were rough on all of them, but of course Elliott had taken it the worst. The first day no one had wanted to drive, too caught up in their grieving. They sat around all day in the shitty motel room hardly speaking to one another. When both Sam and Dean realized that Elliott most likely hadn't eaten in over two days, they ordered in.
Elliott refused to eat at first, telling them she was not hungry. It was the truth, the thought of food made her stomach queasy. It took Dean bribing her with a new pack of Marlboro Reds and a bottle of bourbon to get her to eat. Sam had made her stuff down two and a half slices of pizza before he let his brother give her the goods. To which she almost threw back up but was somehow able to keep down. She passed out on the couch after downing almost a third of the amber liquor, her head in Sam's lap as he ran his hand through her hair.
On the second day they made the track up to Bobbie. Once on the road the Winchesters again, had to force her to eat but being hungover she was much easier to persuaded. The moment Elliott stepped into the old hunter's house she was swept up in giant bear hug, while he mumbled soothingly to her even with his normally gruff tone. That first night at Bobby's was the worst night.
Dean had lost rock paper scissors and ended up on the couch. Sam had one spare bedroom, Elliott the other. Bobby wouldn't let to couple 'canoodle under his roof'. It was about three in the morning when a blood curdling scream rang out in the Singer household. All three men that had only a moment ago been fast asleep raced to the young hunter's bedroom. Sam was the first there and slammed the door open. Finding Elliott so deep in a nightmare she hadn't even woke at the racket he made busting into the small room.
Elliott woke with a jolt when Sam shook her awake. Eyes wide with panic darting around the small room accessing her surroundings. The large hazel green eyes landed on Sam before she lunged out of bed, pushing past him to the bathroom. She landed on her knees next to the toilet and throwing up what little she had in her stomach. A large hand held her hair back as she finished her gaging fit with a sob. She felt Sam's other hand gently stroking her back. Both Dean and Bobby had wanted to help but had gone back to bed after seeing the young Winchester taking care of the girl.
He soothed her body wracking sobs, that were now not just from her nightmare. Completely embarrassed from blowing chunks in front of her giant. When she was ready, she fixed herself up with mouth wash and quickly rinsed her face in cool water. Sam led her back to her room, getting into bed with her. Not caring what Bobby would say to him in the morning.
Elliott wordlessly snuggled close to Sam and held on tight, as if he could fight off the nightmares for her. After a few minutes of not being able to close her eyes without seeing her brothers' flesh being ripped into she gave up on sleep. Sam like usual somehow knew what was happening inside her head. So, he just talked quietly to her. Doing his best to distract her from her own thoughts, he talked about nothing in particular. Stanford seemed to be a safe subject, so he whispered to her telling her all about his school papers, annoying professors, and his favorite coffee shop he liked to study in. When he was getting to a story about his first dorm room, when he could see her eyes start to droop. Sam was careful not to bring up any stories that involved his own brother or hunting sure that her nightmare had to be about Max. He didn't let himself drift off until he was sure she was finally asleep curled up half on top of him.
After that night Sam refused to sleep anywhere else. So it was a good thing that Bobby didn't even grumble a complaint about the couple's sleeping arrangement. Truth was Bobby would be okay with any solution to rid his Ellie of what had to be horrible nightmares.
Throughout the next few weeks things slowly improved. The men no longer had to force or bribe Elliott to eat, but her drinking had increased considerably. Sam expected her smoking to follow along with her drinking but to his surprise she seemed to be cutting back. He hesitated questioning her about it not wanting to jinx it and have her pick up the awful habit even more. He did eventually question her while he accompanied her in the salvage lot as she lit up, curiosity getting the better of him.
"It's stupid, I know, but memories?" Elliott sighed almost questioning herself. "M- He always bummed off my pack. Never getting his own. It's weird to have a whole pack to myself…" She looked up to him a sad smile painting her face.
"I didn't know. I'm sorry I brought it up." Sam was instantly sorry he asked but she shook her head at his apologies.
"Memories may cut like knives, but they are all we have left of the ones we lose."
It was now four weeks since they lost Max. While Elliott was in the shower Sam and Dean discussed their next move. Dean relaxed on the couch beer in hand. He had switched over from whiskey wanting to move on from grieving for his friend. Sam sat in the lazyboy next to him eyeing the stairs, even though he could hear Elliott's shower running.
"How she really doing?" Dean's glance flicked to Sam before following his brothers gaze to the stairs. Of course, Dean had seen her improving but Sam would know more than any of them.
"Honestly, she is doing much better. She's talking more and eating. She still drinking but I think the worst of it is over." Sam said hopefully. He glanced back at the stairs before turning to Dean with sad eyes. "She's still having nightmares."
"What? I thought- I haven't heard anything since that first night." Dean's brow knit together confused.
"She mumbles and gets restless when they start." Sam sighed sadly running a hand through his hair. "At first I'd wake her up when they started, but then she wouldn't go back to sleep. Recently I've been able to sooth her back to sleep before they get bad enough to wake her up. I don't think she knows she's still having them."
Dean cursed under his breath running a hand along the back of his neck as he thought. "She needs a distraction."
"What do you have in mind?" Sam questioned with a lifted brow.
"The usual. A hunt." Dean shrugged like it was obvious. Sam was about to protest when Dean continued. "You just said she was doing better. She is a tough girl, she can handle this Sammy. I think it will help."
Sam took a moment before conceding. "Fine. I'll start looking for a case."
Dean nodded before finishing his beer. He stood up to leave the room but paused in his tracks to turn to Sam. "Just no werewolf cases." Sam gave him a bitch face for even thinking he needed to say that.
It was midday, and Elliott wanting to keep busy was out in Bobby's garage giving her brother's rusty old truck an oil change. Her truck, she thought, sadly. The Beast was hers now. Doing work on the Beast without Max made her stomach twist with unease, but it would be wrong to let Max's truck suffer because she was hurting. As much as Max had complained about wanting to replace the Beast with a fancy classic sports car, he never would have. He loved the old rust bucket and took very good care of it. Elliott wasn't going to let the one thing she had left of her brother suffer, she would do everything he had taught her to keep the old thing running. That is how she ended up in the under the truck, hair knotted up on top of her head and oil smudged on her cheek. Her clothes weren't looking much better either. Bobby's old radio was staticky but still worked well enough, playing the classic rock station that Dean had practically glued the dial to.
"What are you doing?" Dean's voice made Elliott jump, banging her head on the underside of the pickup with a yelp.
"Damnit Dean!" She gritted her teeth before skootching out from under the Beast. "What's it look like I'm doing?" She paused eyes wide and pink flushing her cheeks when she saw Sam there too.
Dean snickered at the blonde and held his hands up in surrender. "Why didn't you just ask for my help Ell? You know I am good with cars."
Sam wore an amused smile discreetly looking her up and down. She was a sight that was for sure. The small hunter had her blonde hair knotted up in a messy bun. Both her old ratty shirt and jean shorts were covered in oil stains. Not to mention the smudges on her cheek, hands and knees. Sam swallowed and looked away, she looked fucking hot. He let his eyes flick back to her dipping lower to her long legs. It was October but it was unseasonably warm, and he was surprised he hadn't seen her wearing shorts more often in the nicer weather. Now that Sam thought about it, he hadn't seen her wear shorts, for a while, and that use to be her go to outfit. When his eyes met the burn scar on her thigh he quickly looking away, hoping that wasn't why he hadn't seen her in her shorts in so long.
"I know how to do a stupid oil change, Dean. I'm not a child." Elliott rolled her eyes ignoring her warm cheeks.
"Still, this is like my thing. Ell I want to help." Dean huffed still smiling.
"Thanks De, but I'm almost done," Elliott paused as the radio host started talking, the voice clear yet interrupted by static as he talked.
"Alright how's this for Halloween-ie?! We've all heard the tales of razor blades in Halloween candy, yea? Well it actually happened! A man was found dead with multiple razor blades in his stomach! This dude actually swallowed down-" All three hunter's heads snapped up at the strange report.
"Looks like we got a case." Sam announced a little baffled. He hadn't even been able to start researching yet. The case just falling in their lap.
