He'd been driving a full two hours before he realized what direction his inner compass had sent him in. Like a ship at sea drawn to the distant glow of a lighthouse he was well on his way to Sioux Falls.
He was dirty, tired, and barefoot. His back was a mass of tiny razors where the gravel had torn through the thin t-shirt he'd worn to bed and into his flesh, his leg ached andhe was anxious to get to a phone he'd be able to use without drawing unwanted attention.
He drove in silence, the night flowing by, the scenery a blur.
Eventually the fierce ache in his leg became a dull throb then went numb. He figured that wasn't a good thing but couldn't bring himself to care besides, the ache in his chest more than made up for it.
The sun rose bleeding on the horizon.
Still he drove replaying the events of the night before over and over in his head until they were all he saw. Every now and then Lyssa would move or make a sound in her sleep and it would break his concentration. Then for a second he'd feel like a drowning man breaking the surface for one last gasp of air.
When he finally pulled up in front of Singer Salvage the clock read 7:37 p.m.. He'd been on the road for just over 18 hours. It felt like days. He hardly knew how he'd managed to get here and he was more than a little worried that Lyssa had slept straight through. He reached over and swept a stray bit of hair off of her face.
The thought of getting out of the truck by himself left him feeling lightheaded so he tapped the horn once, twice. Getting no response he cut the engine, leaned the seat back and closed his eyes. Just for a second…
X x X x X x X x X
Bobby was surprised to see Sam's suv sitting in the yard when he drove in a few hours later. He parked his pickup behind it and got out. He peered in the drivers' side window, from what little he could see in the dark Sam was passed out. He knocked on the thick safety glass.
Sam jerked awake.
"What are you doing sleeping in the car boy? You drunk?" He stepped back when he saw Sam reach for the door handle. The interior light came on and he got his first real look at Sam.
"Dear god! What stomped all over you?"
"I need the phone Bobby." Sam slowly swung his legs out of the car careful not to bang his injured leg on the doorframe. He stood just as slowly gripping the door for balance.
"You need a doctor." Bobby looked pointedly at Sam's swollen, discolored toes.
"Please Bobby. I…I'm gonna need some help getting in the house I can't put pressure on it but I think—" Sam broke off at the sound of movement from the passenger seat. He looked over his shoulder then leaned to the side so Bobby could see, "I think you should take her in first."
It took Bobby a second to realize what he was looking at. Sam's little girl curled in a ball, dressed in a filthy white nightgown. He immediately glanced in the rear window. No car seat.
"Where's the other one Sam?" Bobby felt chills go up his spine when Sam turned back to face him.
"Gone. It was Meg. Meg took her. I couldn't stop her. Dammit!" He swung his left fist back and connected with the rear window. It didn't shatter but it wanted to. He shuddered clenching and unclenching his fist.
"Alright take it easy now. I'll get your girl in the house then I'll come back out for you. Just hang in there and don't break anything else." He took Sam's nod as consent and walked around to the passenger side of the truck. He lifted Lyssa out of the car; trying valiantly not to panic at the way her body hung limp as a ragdoll. She smelled like fire. He took her in and laid her on the sofa then went back out for Sam.
"Okay son real easy now." He slung Sam's right arm over his shoulder his left arm around Sam's waist. They were doing fine until they came to the stairs. With a little fancy footwork and lots of luck they managed to get into the house only slightly out of breath.
"How long's she been like that?" Bobby asked nodding toward the sofa.
"I don't know since two maybe three in the morning. I think its maybe shock?"
Bobby nodded clapped his hands. "Alright, you gonna tell me what happened?"
"Yeah, after I call Dean and Leeanna they're supposed to be back later today but the house….. MY home is probably ash by now and…"
He guided Sam to a chair at the kitchen table then handed him the phone.
"Thanks Bobby."
Bobby walked further in to the kitchen intending to make coffee. He listened to Sam with half an ear while he busied himself pulling down coffee and cups.
"Dean, call me as soon as you get his message. Something went down, the house is gone. Just… Just call me."
There was an audible click when Sam severed the connection then several odd tones as he dialed another number. Bobby had already filled the kettle with water and put it on the stove. He was in the process of filling two coffee cups with instant crystals when he heard Sam cry out.
He spun around in time to see Sam drop the phone. He slid out of the chair onto his hands and knees crawling the few feet that separated him from the garbage can. He pulled himself up and retched violently into it.
Bobby picked up the phone reset it and hit redial. He wished he hadn't.
X x X x X x X x X
Sam leaned back till he was sitting, wedged in a corner, on the floor. He shut his eyes against the too bright lights, crossed his arms over his head. Everything was wrong. Warped. This can't be real. Can't be. Any minute now he'd wake up. He banged his head against the wall to prove it and was rewarded with blinding pain. It didn't stay there in his head though. No, it crawled downward until some small mean thing was clawing at his insides and he was crying again. Crying and shaking and the room was spinning and this awful keening relentlessly assaulted his ears until he felt his mind begin to shatter. He couldn't breathe. Stars exploded behind his eyes. And the room was spinning. Spinning out of control. He heard her scream in his head over the rising crescendo in his ears. Can't breathe.
"Breathe dammit!" The shout startled a hiccup out of him. He panted into the sudden silence. Had that been him?
"Come on boy let's get you cleaned up."
"I can't." His voice came out hollow. He was hollow and brittle as glass.
"Gotta. Ain't got no choice." He felt himself being pulled. He responded out of instinct, pushing up with his good leg. Bobby walked him to the bathroom so he could wash up and rinse his mouth. When he was through Bobby handed him two large white pills, a glass, clean shirt and pajama pants. He swallowed the pills without asking what they were. He didn't care. The pants were too short and Sam had to stifle the urge to giggle hysterically. He swallowed it all back down even as his stomach began to churn again.
Bobby helped him back to the front room where he had pulled out the sofa bed. Lyssa lay on it already. Her face had been washed and she was clad in an enormous grey t-shirt. She was awake. Sam breathed a sigh of relief. He managed a smile for her sake; at least he hoped it was a smile. She studied him intently.
Sam crawled into the bed and pulled her into his arms. He laid his cheek against her forehead and closed his eyes.
"Thanks Bobby."
"Yeah, uh if you need anything you just call alright? I'll be down the hall."
Sam felt raw inside. He hugged Lyssa a little closer. She was all he had left.
"Daddy?" she whispered.
"Yes sweetheart?" He said completing the exchange for the thousandth time. The familiarity of it gave him a little comfort.
"Where's Ari?"
"I don't know baby."
"Daddy?"
"Yes sweetheart?"
"I want Mommy." Sam's chest constricted.
"Me too sweetheart. Me too."