This prompt takes place between the events of Taken and Schism, while Sam’s arm was healing and Dean stayed at the motel for three months (a record, for Trails West ).
It was late, but Krissy found herself wandering the passageways and vents in the walls on her own.
Normally, she would wait until someone else was willing to go. She didn’t like to venture close to the human rooms on her own. Lessons drilled into her mind from her father and her mother, back in those happy years before everything had changed, taught her the dangers of humanity.
Those lessons stuck fast after her father was gone, and her mother withdrew from the world, leaving Krissy and her young brother Bennett to fend for themselves.
Walt was amazing. He’d come to live with them after Krissy had dragged him out of the ash herself, saving his life as he’d saved theirs since. He helped find enough food for everyone to eat, brought home more supplies than Krissy ever dreamed of finding on her own now that her best friend Sam was gone.
Of course, Sam was back now, along with his older brother.
No one had ever expected them to reappear, Krissy least of all. She knew Walt had hoped to see his erstwhile adopted son again, but those were dreams and fantasies best left to musings. Sam appearing on her doorstep had been the last thing she’d ever expected.
And so she wandered, and wondered.
Sam’s arm was broken, so he was staying in the walls with them until he healed. She’d noticed a nervousness about him that hadn’t been there when he left with Dean. It wasn’t hard to figure out that his recent injury had forced him to confront truths better left to the subconscious.
He was afraid, just like her.
Krissy paused at the slits of a vent, drawn to the light. She knew what room she was over, and only just managed to get herself close enough to see out. She didn’t want to risk the human glancing up and seeing her.
The large hunter was sprawled out on his bed. The television was on in the background, but the sound was turned off. In his hand was curled what she’d heard called a… ‘music player,’ or an ‘iPod.’
Humans sure had strange names for things.
Dean was wearing earbuds, so Krissy let her guard relax a little. She could hear the music, a soft rock that Sam had talked about while they were growing up, leaking from the buds. He’d never hear her with those on. Even a hunter’s senses could be dampened down.
For a moment, she stared at him, trying to imagine him standing at the same height as Sam. He didn’t look that scary, not laying on the bed, his eyes closed and his face so peaceful. Kara talked about him nonstop, and for a moment Krissy could see it.
Then her phobia caught up to her and she stumbled away from the edge of the vent. The soft music vanished, and her breath caught as she realized he might have heard that.
“Sam?” came a deep call, a hopeful note resounding in it. For over three weeks Sam had been in the motel, and Krissy knew that he hadn’t gone back to see Dean yet.
She slowed her breathing and pulled herself out of sight around a corner. A shadow dampened the light, and she covered her mouth.
“Sammy? That you? I’ve got some salad, if you wanted to come visit…” Dean’s voice trailed off, sounding forlorn and lost. Krissy had to blink back surprise at that.
The light came back, and she heard the human stomping away.
Maybe she’d see how Sam was feeling. Human or not, Dean sounded lonely. No one deserved to be forgotten like that.