[h3] Dean Winchester [/h3]

Dean kept his arms out, reaching to make sure Mika didn’t fall to the ground again, with her head inury.  He hadn’t exactly had a chance to look over her head and make sure she was actually okay.  When she patted him, and began dusting herself off, he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Let’s get you back to the truck.”, he whispered, wrapping an arm around her waist and beginning to run with her.  Bobby turned his back to the door as they ran out, holding a shotgun up, as if it would work against the man who had just attacked them.  

The ride to Sioux Falls was a long one.  Dean almost wished they had’ve just waited until they got back to make this call, but he also knew that it wouldn’t have made much of a difference other than a shorter drive.  He kept Mika pulled close to him, as a mixture of images from Hell and the Angel flashed through his eyes with every street light that passed.

He offered his shoulder to her, if she needed to sleep, but in the meantime, he played with her fingers like a stress ball.  It almost seemed surreal when they pulled into the junkyard, and Dean released a breath that he assumed he had been holding the entire time.  They were home.  They were safe.  This old junkyard was the most peaceful place he could think to come, and it was safe….

“Well.  Welcome back home…”, Bobby quipped from the front seat.  He stepped out of the truck and threw his hands up, “I need coffee for this crap…”


[h3] Annabeth [/h3]

As soon as they got into the room, Annabeth changed out of her ruined clothes, tossing them into a trash can, tied her hair up and pulled out a scarf tying it around her head - to cover her missing eyes while she slept. She then laid down on the bed closest to the far wall.  She didn’t even notice when Sam had gotten to bed, after settling. She was still having to get used to not having eyelids, or eyes rather, and so sleep would be fleeting at best.  As soon as she idled her brain, her mind wandered from situation to situation and pain, causing her to jolt awake.

In the dark, at some point in the night, she could hear Sam snoring quietly.  The room was pitch black.  She could tell, because she couldn’t feel him when she put the glasses on her face.  However, she could hear him.  Standing from her bed, she carefully tiptoed across the room, gently putting her hands down in order to walk herself around to what felt like the empty side of Sam. 

She lowered herself onto the bed, crawling across to sit close to his back.  She reached her hand out, touching his back as it rose and fell, deep in sleep.  Sighing in relief, she lowered her head to his pillow, curling into a ball against his back, her face buried in his hair.

She felt safe.  Her brain was clear.  Once again, even wearing a makeshift blindfold, Sam Winchester was as good as Xanax.