HE LISTENS TO THE FADED SOUNDS from the road , trying to piece together the image in his head the best he can . someone died . he’s not sure if it was the dad with the cart , or the thief . good guy , bad guy –––– there wasn’t time to figure out WHO WINS . it’s quieter , now . there hasn’t been another gunshot , though he thought for a moment there might be . it sounds like people are still running , disjointed ; there are voices , all clipped , urgent tones , but sam can’t figure out what they’re saying . it doesn’t last very long . he hesitates a moment even after he’s finished , straining to hear as the chaos turns into NOTHINGNESS . the sound of footsteps once again takes precedence , people trudging on forward in silence . someone died . and five minutes later , everyone moves on . sam’s stomach is still clenched tight .
dean looks pretty shaken , too . sam’s been peeking up at a stoic face since it started ; stony and DAD - LIKE in its determination . now , when he comes back , the expression he meets is ashen and unsure . dean is pushing his temples together like that will squeeze his brain into gear . sam shifts on his tired feet . ‘ okay … but if we go to uncle bobby’s , dad will know where to find us . we’re SAFE there . ’ at the very least , uncle bobby will be there . he’s sharp , and stronger than they are , and he’ll know what to do . not to mention , uncle bobby has a pantry full of food , and water , and lots of PLACES TO HIDE . sam has no idea where they are now , or how far . but it’s where he wants to be , so he’s holding out . he takes the opportunity to sit down in the dirt , sneakers throbbing . ‘ we don’t even know where a military base is , dean . ’
❝ i know. ❞ tone is sharp, sharper than he intended, but he’s running low on fuel —- not that it’s an excuse, it’s not. you keep going, even when you can’t. but he’s scared too. he’s only a kid, really. sometimes he forgets, dad raised him to be strong, to grow up sooner, tougher, harder and stronger than any other boy he’d met in any of his classes, the things he’s seen, he’s the most equipped sixteen year old boy there probably is. that doesn’t mean he isn’t scared out of his god damn mind. he doesn’t know how to protect himself, let alone sam from something this bad. this isn’t a vampire. this isn’t a ghost. these are gigantic robot machines. it can turn you into dust. you can’t trap it with salt. you can’t kill it with silver. his dad isn’t here, and he wants to cry. he doesn’t have the luxury though. can almost hear the voice of his father in his head telling him it’s time to man up. only there’s nothing he’d been taught for a situation like this. all he wants to do it bury them both underground and hide, till it’s over.
❝ i know. ❞ he says it again, but it’s softer, almost defeated. they can make it to bobby’s in a week, maybe, on foot from here. if they don’t run into trouble, if the path is clear. but a lot can happen in seven days. hell, a lot can happen in an hour. that’s all it had taken to end communication, to destroy the town they’d previously called home. no where is safe. even uncle bobby’s. what if they get there, and he’s not even alive, what will they do then ? he smacks a fist against his thigh, thumps it once, twice, and then thwacks it against the front of his head. he doesn’t know.
it’s easier, and probably safer to assume dad is dead, but he doesn’t want to think about that. not now. not like this. he wishes this was a dream. ❝ they could be anywhere. ❞
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