(ON HOLD) 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐍- 𝐉.𝐊.

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐗𝐕

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐗𝐕

(07x13: The Slice Girls)
A loud sigh wakes me. I jolt, opening my eyes forcefully, and stare at the ceiling above me for a few moments.
"Morning," Sam calls. I glance to my right, seeing my uncle in the driver seat. He is looking over at Dad who leans against the passenger window.
"Hey," Dad grumbles sitting up and stretching his arms out as much as he can in the cramped car. It reminds me of the limited space and odd smells of the car we are driving, and I sigh. God, I miss the Impala.

Dad reaches into his jacket pocket and pulls out Bobby's flask, throwing his head back and taking a swig of whatever today's chosen alcohol is. I roll my eyes at the gesture, but my heart twangs in my chest.

Bobby.

God.

I squeeze my eyes shut for a second and take a deep breath.
"Is that Bobby's?" Sam asks. "I didn't know you kept that."
"Yeah, mine sprung a leak." Dad murmurs, screwing the cap back on the flask and tucking it away.
"You know, most people just carry a- a photo or something for a momento," I tell him as I slowly sit up and turn in my seat to face the front of the car.
"Shut up. I'm-I'm-I'm honoring the guy, all right? This is, uh, grief therapy, kind of like Sam and his wild-goose chase." He shoots him a sharp look, causing Sam to snort.

"Wild-goose chase?"
"Yeah."
"Four guys murdered in two weeks, hands and feet cut off."
"Yeah, well, some guy with a foot fetish run amuck."
"Grown men thrown so hard they went through walls. Did you- did you even read the article?" I pick up the newspaper from the seat next to me and toss it up at Dad as Sam talks.
"No, I was napping."
"Well, anyway, what else you got going on? Dick Roman's a dead-end, for now, you might as well-"
"Stay busy?"
Sam shrugs. "Exactly."
"Yeah."

I glance up as Dad and Sam exit the police station a few hours later. Dad waves for me to come with them as they walk past, caught up in a conversation. I push myself from the bench, listening to them summarize what they had learned while I waited outside.
"...of the ballpark of our kind of thing," Dad says as I catch up.
"Yeah, uh, 'didn't match anything human' usually seals the deal for me. I don't know, I've never seen this symbol before." Sam mutters, scrolling on his phone. He then stops, sets a hand on Dad's shoulder, and pulls me closer with the other one.
"Let's get a bite to eat, go back to the motel, haul out the laptop." He suggests. I nod, not hating the idea of food and sleep, but Dad shrugs.

"That's a great idea. Actually, that's a brilliant idea. Here's my counter. You guys do that, I'll go undercover, go mingle amongst the locals and see, uh, what kind of clues bubble to the surface." Dad bargains.
I sigh. "You're going to a bar."
"Wow. If you want to oversimplify it." I stare up at my uncle with a helpless look as Dad walks off. He shrugs.
"Chinese?"
I sigh. "I guess."

"Hey, kid. Wake up. We've got to go. There's been another murder. Your dad's gonna meet us there." Sam prods me, waking me up. I groan, rolling over and pulling the blankets over my head.
"Alex."
"Sam."
"We gotta go."
"Ten minutes," I grumble. The room remains quiet and I peak an eye open. Suddenly, hands clamp down on my body, running back and forth over my sides, tickling me. I cry out, trying to squirm away as I laugh, but Sam continues to tickle me relentlessly.

"Sammy!" I shout, pulling the blanket away from my head, tears flooding my eyes as I giggle.
"I told you to get up." He cries, a wide smile on his face. I kick at his chest, causing him to laugh.
"Stop! Stop!" I laugh. "Show mercy! Please, Sammy! I'll get up! I'll get up, I swear!"
Sam's hands still. "Promise?"
"Promise. Now let me go!" Sam lets me go, laughing as he continues to get ready to go to the crime scene.

I gather my stuff and head towards the bathroom, turning to Sam as I close the door.
"You're a menace to society," I shout. He laughs, winking at me.
"You're worse than your Dad."
I laugh and close the door. I look at myself in the mirror for a moment, committing those last few minutes of happiness and the lingering smile they left me with to my memory before they fade away. Little moments like these were what kept us all going. These memories are what we hold on to when things get rough in our world, which is basically constantly. Hard times like constantly killing monsters, having to endure pain, and unceasing death. Always losing loved ones like Bobby. The smile fades from my face as I think. I sigh, run a hand over my face, and turn on the sink. I grab my bag off the floor, fumbling around before pulling out the Ziploc holding my toothbrush and toothpaste.