Just a short 'un, sorry guys - trying to get back into the balanço of composição literária fã fic lol, it's been a few months :)

I approached Sam, who was stood at the tronco, porta-malas of the Impala, slowly and cautiously. Nothing like that had ever happened to either of us before, really, and it seemed that, although in a different way to me, Sam was unsure how to react. He hadn’t spoken since we’d gotten out his flat and the police and fogo department had started to arrive, and I had to bring myself to the conclusion that he might be in shock. I mean, he had just seen his girlfriend die. I knew my brother, and I knew this kind of thing left a hole in him for a very, very long time.
In a way, I hadn’t wanted to leave him alone, even for a few minutes, while I went and heard what the fogo department had to say, but in another way I know my brother needed to be alone for a little while when he felt like this. But it’s never been anything as bad as this before, the voice in my head pointed out. And I was right. It hadn’t. As I reached the Impala’s tronco, porta-malas and looked at Sam, all I saw through the illuminated bright red lights of the police sirens was pain. He looked absolutely awful, devastated and helpless, and I knew I’d have to look after him a lot in the seguinte couple of months.
It wasn’t until he met my eyes and looked at me for a segundo or two that I actually understood the depth of pain he must have been feeling in that moment. I looked at him, trying to convey how much I cared and was sorry through the silence. He broke my eye contact and continued rummaging through items in the trunk, some of which I’d noticed Sam had shoved in his own duffel bag, not mine, which was lying empty seguinte to it.
It took me a segundo or two to understand my brother’s way of thinking. The Demon had come back, killed Jessica, and called him back into the hunting life he’s struggled so hard to get away from. And if Dad’s life mission is to kill The Demon that was responsible for killing Mom, and the same thing killed Sammy’s girlfriend, than it made perfect sense for Sam to help in the revenge hunt.
Like Dad, it seemed that Sam was also set on being driven por revenge for God knew how many years to come until The Demon was dead. And if he went on his own, in his grieving frame of mind right now, he’d kill himself within a hunt or two. I had to go with my brother, to protect him and help him get over this. It didn’t seem like there was anything much mais important than that in those moments.
Sam laid a hand on the topo, início of the trunk, ready to lock it again, and hesitated.
“We’ve got work to do.”
In mais ways than one, I know we did.