Louder Than Words

"And we are officially closing down," Reagan called from behind the bar. "You don't have to go home but you certainly can't stay here."

The bar-goers shuffled out of the bar haphazardly and in an untimely fashion. About twenty minutes later it was empty. She was wiping down the bar and finishing the last dishes when there was a tap on the door. She went to go see who it was, touching the pocket knife clipped to her jeans. A man stood at the door. He was scrawny with a bulbous nose and bowl-cut brown hair. He was wearing a suit that looked way too big for him. He looked utterly harmless so she opened the door a crack. 

"Can I help you?"

"Reagan Vasco?" he asked in a southern accent. 

She narrowed her eyes. "Yes?" She hadn't been called Vasco in years. Around here she was known as Sawyer. 

"I'm Garth Fitzgerald the forth. You are, in fact, the daughter of Matthew Vasco, right?"

"Look, what is this about? It's two in the morning-" 

"I'm sorry for the inconvenient timing but we need your help."

"With what?"

"With preventing the next apocalypse."

<><><><><>

Her eyelids weighed about twelve pounds each and her mind was a ball of cotton. She stretched a bit and suddenly her eyelids were weightless, flying open from the shock of the pain. She hissed, mentally counting the number of broken ribs she felt. She'd had enough of them to be able to tell where the pain came from individually. She picked up her arm to probe her body for any more wounds and found her wrist splinted, wrapped, and attached to an IV. She lifted her other hand to find bandages all over her. She finally picked up her head and looked around, praying she wasn't in a hospital. 

It didn't look like it. The room was dark with yellow walls. There was a sky blue comforter on the bed and a chair a similar color tucked into a corner. A bookshelf packed with books was against the wall next to the door, which opened soon afterward. 

A man came in. He was average height and build with dark grey eyes and dull blonde hair that was cut just beneath his ears. He had thin lips and a warm smile. 

"Your up," he said. He was holding a cardboard box. 

"Where am I?" she asked. 

"Just over the border in North Dakota."

North Dakota. The Crocotta. Sam. She closed her eyes. 

"Where am I specifically?" she croaked. 

"The middle of nowhere about five miles northeast of Langdon."

"So this isn't a hospital." He shook his head. "Then why do I have an IV in my arm?"

The man grinned. "Don't worry. I'm a nurse. I can show you my credentials-"

"Why am I here?"

"Your car broke down on my driveway. I couldn't let you just freeze-"

"Why am I not in a hospital?"

He moved towards the window and pulled the blinds. It was white. Everything was white. "We can barely get outside to feed the animals."

"How long has it been?" 

"Not long, two days about but you were in that car for maybe a day, a day and a half. We had to dig you out."

"Where's my car?"

"On the side of the road where I  left it." She relaxed a bit. "How did you get those injuries?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," she murmured, still mesmerized by all the snow. 

"Does it have something to do with the duffel bag of weapons I found in your truck."

That caught her attention. She paused. "Yes." He frowned. 

"What's your name?"

She narrowed her eyes at him, wanting to give a false name on instinct but decided against it at the last second. "Bayleigh. Bayleigh Thomas."

He reached out to shake her good hand. "I'm Syd Dawson. And you're welcome here as long as you don't use those weapons on us."

She was going to say something about how the weapons weren't for humans and how she was totally capable of nursing herself back to health and how she did it all the time, but she didn't want to alarm him. So she just nodded and watched him get to work taking off the bandages around her ribs. 

"My sister's going to help you bathe, okay? I'm gonna get all these bandages off so you can wash. Then we can start you on some antibiotic pills so you don't need this IV anymore. Ally?! Is it ready?"

"Yup." A small blonde girl skipped into the room. She couldn't be older than twenty. "Come on."

Bayleigh let herself be pulled out of bed and down the hall into a sea foam green tiled bathroom. She was settled and washed in a hot bath by the girl and then allowed to relax alone in it afterwards. 

A while later the girl entered the bathroom holding her plaid PJ pants and a T-shirt. One of His. It must had gotten mixed up in the wash. 

Bayleigh let Ally rewrap her shoulder wounds, then grudgingly put on the shirt. It had to be a shirt. Why couldn't she have accidentally stolen something minuscule and unimportant. Something she could easily lose. Something that didn't smell like him, feel like him. 

She was then led back into the bedroom where Syd started binding her ribs again. 

"This isn't going to be like Misery, is it?" she asked quietly. 

"What do you mean?" His fingers were warm and soft against her bruised flesh. 

"Stephen King. Misery."

Syd laughed. "No," he said, reaching for the Pill bottle on the side table and handing her one with a glass if water. "I promise there is no sedation in your antibiotics. I'll even let you go down to the kitchen and eat lunch." 

He took her hand and pulled her out of bed, leading her down a flight of steps and into a warm kitchen where Ally was pulling stuff out of the refrigerator. 

"Soup!" she cheered, her arms full of ingredients. She grinned and Bayleigh couldn't help but let a small smile peek at her lips.

<><><><><>

"Cas who art in-"

"That really is not necessary," Cas interrupted, appearing in front of Dean. "You just have to say my name."

"We have for a week," Sam growled. Cas ignored him. 

"What do you need." It sounded more like a statement than a question coming from the angel. 

"Will you just make sure she's okay," Sam asked, his mood switching from annoyance to desperation in a second. 

Cas paused for barely a second, then said, "She's fine." He hoped Sam didn't notice that he wasn't telling the whole truth. They had gotten better at seeing his lies, but he'd also gotten better at lying. 

Sam released his breath. "Thanks."

"You're welcome. Do you need anything else?"

"No. Thanks Cas." Dean clapped him on the shoulder. 

The angel disappeared. 

Dean's phone rang. He answered it. 

"Yea, Garth?"

"You guys gonna show? We're waiting on you."

"We'll be there in five." He flipped his phone shut. "Let's go."