#Literally they were ringing me up and the bent forward to push the register buttons and I saw. A blue crew mate plushie on their lanyard

[puppyeared]

Today I got to experience peace and love on the planet earth watching one stranger give another strangers car a battery boost, and yelling among us at the hot topic cashier before I could stop myself because we had matching crewmate plushies on our lanyards

[anxiouslynumbme]

Carmuel Missing Scenes/Moments

Warning: (Sexual Situations, Strong Language, Drug Use.)

3x06

_______________________________________________________

Samuel had tried to get Carla alone all day, but she was a master at avoiding him. He couldn't let her do it again. So he'd settled on watching her for the rest of the day, hoping that she wasn't desperate enough to use at school.

Carla looked almost robotic and it seemed she was losing more of herself every time Samuel looked at her.

He looked at his bruised hand with a grimace, maybe taking his issues out on a locker wasn't the best idea. Samuel's anger at Valerio hadn't died down, if anything, it festered.

The school day had finally come to an end and he couldn't see Carla anywhere. Samuel didn't how he missed the fact that she had already left, when he'd been watching her like a hawk. Samuel knew she wasn't going to be happy when he suddenly showed up at her door. But she gave him no choice.

Once he'd reached her house, Samuel pushed his nerves to the side. A woman, he recognized as Mirella smiled at him, after opening the door.

"Uh, Hi. Is Carla here?"

He should've called first. But she wouldn't have answered, so Samuel couldn't really feel bad about it.

"Yes. Come in, sir. I'll go get her."

Samuel slowly made his way inside, waiting awkwardly in the foyer and not for the first time, he could see just how different their worlds were. A moment later he heard Carla's angry footsteps stumping down the stairs, Samuel whirled around to see she was still in her uniform, which never failed to cause him to stir. But that was obviously not why he was here.

"Have you lost your mind? What the fuck are you doing here?"

"Tell me you didn't take it."

Samuel could see the agitation all over her soft features.

"You are the most frustrating person I've ever met. You're lucky my parents aren't here."

"Carla - "

"Just follow me." she huffed, quickly turning on her heel and walking up the stairs.

While he'd been to Carla's house before, Samuel had never actually seen her bedroom. The second he stepped through the door, his eyes roamed every corner with burning curiosity. It was spotless, which came as no surprise since they had maids. He paced around until he was at her desk, his hand smoothing over the surface. He grinned at a picture of her and Lu when they were younger, Carla's smile looked so genuine.

"Samuel?"

He cleared his throat. "Uh, yeah. Sorry."

"What do you want?" she sighed tiredly.

"Did you ta - "

"No, I didn't. I literally just got home."

"Good. Now flush it down the toilet."

"You know I'm not gonna do that."

"Why do you need it?"

Carla simply stared at him, fingers going for her shirt, unbuttoning the first, second, then the third button. His body surged in attention, before his mind snapped into focus and he looked away.

"Your tricks are getting old, Carla."

"Don't flatter yourself. Since you came uninvited, I'm changing out of my uniform anyway. If that makes you uncomfortable, wait outside. Better yet, why don't you leave my house all together?"

"Sure, throw it away and I'm gone."

"You really are insufferable." Carla puffed out a breath, he subtly let his eyes wander over to her, she had changed into a simple white shirt and was sliding her legs through grey cotton shorts. Samuel breathed in relief, he wasn't sure he could've handled it if he had checked and found her naked.

Once she was fully clothed and facing him, Carla crossed her arms. "I'm not getting rid of it, Samuel. So let it go and go home."

"I can't do that. Not when I know what you're about to do."

"Why do you keep doing this?" Carla asked harshly.

She knew why. They both did. It didn't matter that she didn't want to acknowledge it, or that he was too scared to say it again. Samuel couldn't just walk away from her when she was obviously having such a rough time. Such a rough time that she'd resorted to this extreme level of dealing with it. And Samuel'd be damned if he was going to just idly stand by and watch her self-destruct.

He disregarded her question, striding towards her. "Give it to me."

"No."

"Carla, I'm not leaving unless I know you don't have it."

"What is wrong with you?"

"I'm trying - "

"No, seriously," she interjected with a glare, "are you constantly losing brain cells? What I do is none of your business."

Samuel wasn't fazed by her words. He was about to open his mouth when his eyes thoroughly took note of her state. Her body was quivering, her curled fists were visibly trembling as she breathed heavily. Drops of sweat pouring out of her forehead and down her pale face, her sullen eyes were misting over with tears.

A painful stab of worry rocked him as he raised both palms to her face, Carla blenched but didn't move away from his touch. Taking it as a good sign, Samuel moved closer to her, his thumbs soothingly rubbing back and forth across her cheeks.

She had gone too far and his stomach dropped at the realization.

"You need help, Carla."

"No, no. I'm fine. I'm handling it." her wavering voice was proof that she didn't believe her own words. She was starting to shiver all over, Samuel quickly grabbed the first blanket he saw on her bed and threw it over her shoulders, wrapping it tightly around her.

"Thank you."

Samuel tilted her chin up. "You have to stop."

"I know - but I can't," she told him in a low voice.

"Of course you can. You are so strong, I know - "

"No, you don't get it. I...I can't carry on without it."

"What do you mean?"

"I need it. I just have to."

"Why? Why won't you just talk to me?"

"I - I can't, you know that."

"Yes. But I don't know why!"

"Samuel, please. Don't. Not now, I'm so tired and I feel so - " Carla broke off with an evident shudder, swaying in the spot, almost losing her balance. Samuel instantly held her closer.

"Okay, okay," he said, kissing her forehead gently, "I'm sorry."

Samuel felt her body sag against him and his arms tightened around her, lips trailing light kisses down her right cheek. "It's okay. You'll be okay." he kept repeating it to affirm it for both of them.

And then Carla collapsed completely, a loud sob leaving her mouth. Samuel's entire body stilled with her tears, Carla always kept it together, he had never seen her break. A vicious, unsettling emotion cut through him deeply, his gut wrenched with her cries; head pounded with every gasp of pain out of her lips.

"Shh, it'll be alright." Samuel felt so helpless, his arms gripping her to him so firmly, he was scared it was cutting her airflow. But Carla didn't care, her arms grasping onto him just as hard, crying her soul into his chest.

Samuel didn't know when exactly they had fallen down on the bed, or when had tears started streaming down his face. Witnessing Carla's hurt so transparently, rattled him to the core. Only when Carla lifted her head off his chest to look at him, did he notice how the sunlight had dimmed in the room.

"Why are you crying?" her voice was hoarse as she wiped a tear from his cheek.

Because you're in pain, he thought to himself, And I don't know how to help you, I don't know how to make any of this better.

Samuel simply shrugged with a weak smile. She didn't push it, leaning forward to kiss the rest of his tears away, leaving him with shivers running down his spine. Samuel shut his eyes in contentment, tugging her closer to him; his other hand massaging the back of her head.

"You should eat something," he said after a period of serene silence.

"Like what, macaroni?"

His heart fluttered. "I could make you some, I'm sure you have everything I need in your kitchen."

"I was kidding, Samuel. Do you ever eat anything else?"

He paused, pretending to consider it. "Not really, no."

Carla chuckled. "You know, I could make you something."

Samuel looked down at her, waiting for those eyes to gaze back up at him. "Carla Rosòn Caleruga can cook?"

"Of course," she replied, suddenly hoisting herself up and straddling his waist, her haunting eyes piercing his. "I'm a woman of many talents."

"I'm well-aware," his reply came out breathless, "I just don't think cooking is one of them."

Carla giggled, the sound humming through his system. "Fine, you got me. I can't cook for shit, but I'm a very fast learner. Maybe you could teach me, Chef."

Even though Samuel knew he wasn't much better, he nodded with a grin. "I'd be honored."

Carla then bent down achingly slow before finally meeting his lips. The kiss was lazy and deep, his tongue swirling with hers in a consuming tremor that traveled through every inch of his body, striking his lower region.

Samuel knew it was the wrong time and they should definitely stop. Carla had just finished crying in his arms, not to mention she was suffering from withdrawal. And a part of him knew she might be feeling too exposed after showing such vulnerability; she might be deflecting the issue by turning things sexual and not talking about it. But while Samuel knew that they needed to finally talk about everything; that she needed some time and space to recover, he couldn't help but feel they both needed this. They both needed the comfort they found in each other. Even Just for a moment.

The kiss was quickly turning heavy, her fingers making quick work of his buttons. His palms clutched her shirt before slipping under it, his fingers tracing the soft skin of her back as their hips ground together ardently.

"Carla." he groaned into her mouth.

They had to stop. Samuel was reluctantly slowing the progress of their eager embrace, when he heard a muffled ringing under his head. He couldn't register the sound at first, his head fuzzy with everything Carla.

Samuel pulled away slightly, his hand reaching under him and retrieving Carla's phone. He managed to catch the name on the screen before handing it to her.

His jaw ticked. Yeray.

Carla frowned, silencing the phone and throwing it carelessly to the side. She tried to kiss him again but he stopped her.

"You should really eat something," he said quietly.

Carla paused, staring at him. She finally inhaled loudly in resignation and flopped down next to him. It was tense for a few minutes before she rescued them from it.

"Fine. But we're not eating macaroni."

He smiled. "Deal."

_______________________________________________________

The ended up ordering pizza, which they were currently eating in front of the pool. They'd spent the time waiting for it to be delivered, talking seriously and mindlessly, he'd told her that Rebe found out about the deal he'd made with the police, but left out the part where she'd called him out on why he'd started things with her. They also talked about silly shit, that made them both guffaw and relax. And Samuel was just realizing that even though Carla was still fidgeting and a bit antsy, she was looking a little better; and she hadn't brought up the drugs or her need for it.

"My parent will be home soon," she announced, her voice still a bit scratchy, "you'll need to go."

He said nothing in response, merely nodding. Samuel wouldn't get anywhere asking her why and he didn't want to ruin this time with her.

"Wanna go for a swim?" Carla asked abruptly.

"A swim?" he repeated stupidly.

"Yep." she grinned. "Come on!"

And then she was taking her clothes off. Samuel swallowed, exhaling a sharp breath; watching as she peeled off her shirt and shorts before diving in, water spattering around her. Samuel's hesitation lasted about a second. Because seeing Carla smiling, her eyes beckoning him to join her in the joy she was having - no matter how temporary - made his decision fairly easy.

He stood up, shedding his clothes, and quickly jumping in after her with only his boxers on. Carla let out a cheerful laugh at the splash he caused. They both immediately swam to each other, their laughter dying down as they gazed upon one another. And when she leaned in to kiss him, he softly spoke.

"I don't want to taint us."

Carla blanched in surprise. "What?"

"I - I shouldn't have kissed you the other night. But more importantly, I shouldn't have gotten with Rebe in the first place, knowing how I feel about you. And now I have to live with the fact that I hurt her.

"And even if I don't care about Yeray or his feelings. I know what that's like. We shouldn't do that to him."

Her gaze left him with a scoff. "Trust me, what I have with Yeray is not like that."

"What do you mean?"

"It's just different."

Samuel narrowed his eyes. "Do you even like him?"

"I do, I just - "

"Don't lie. Why are you with him?"

"Because...he's fun."

He snorted at the feeble excuse. "Fun? That's the only reason?"

"Yes. That's enough for me."

"Is it?" he was irritated with her statement

"Yeah, we're both young and we're just having fun. What else is there?"

If Samuel didn't know any better, he would've thought she was intentionally provoking him. What else is there?

Love. Passion. Us. What we have, what we feel for each other, his mind was almost screaming at her.

"Well, whatever it is, you have to end it. I mean, if you want this - us."

Carla was quiet for a moment, peering at him in a way that made his insides churn.

"You're the best person I know," she whispered.

Samuel's eyes lowered shyly, his heart skipping a beat at her praise. But he was just being decent, nothing more. Guilt still twisted his stomach, knowing the questionable things he'd done. Especially recently.

"No, I'm not, I'm - "

"Yes, you are," she said resolutely, "now please believe that Yeray and I are not what you think we are. Not to me, at least."

Samuel didn't get a chance to prompt her further as she nudged him forward and he didn't resist. Because Samuel was only human and the girl he was in love with was half naked and wet. He licked his lips and Carla smirked at the action, grazing his mouth teasingly.

Returning her soft kiss, Samuel felt their hands interlock- his fingers slotting through hers and he winced slightly from his still sore fist.

Carla glanced down in concern at his rapidly swelling knuckle, it was getting redder by the minute. "What happened?"

"I might have punched a locker," he said sheepishly.

"Why?"

"Well, it was either the locker or Valerio."

Carla tutted with a sigh. "Samuel, why would you do that? It's not his fault."

"Yes, it is."

"No, it's not, it was my decision. He only did what I asked."

"And if he hadn't, you would've never had the opportunity in the first place." Carla's eyes left his shamefully, it was the same look she had when she'd walked out of the bathroom this morning.

The truth was that it was on Samuel too. He'd provided the place for Valerio and Rebe to push drugs. The guilt prevented him from telling Carla that they'd used his house and it was eating him inside, even if he knew she might be understanding. But as he stared at her, she still looked drained and Samuel was too damn afraid to break the peaceful spell that'd been cast on them.

"Regardless, I can deal with my own shit," she said stubbornly, "and you definitely shouldn't go around punching lockers."

Samuel's lips quirked in amusement. "Sorry."

"You should be. I like your hands."

"Yeah?"

"Hmm," she said, playing with his fingers, "they're very nice and. . .skillful."

His heart jumped at the insinuation and he let out a low chuckle. "Really? That's nice to hear."

Carla's reaction was to slowly bring his bruised knuckle to her lips, peppering soft kisses across it. Samuel's eyes found hers intensely as she darted her tongue out and licked up the back of his index finger; till she finally took it in her mouth and sucked.

His body heat rose to an alarming level of arousal. Samuel closed his eyes, chest heaving, the sensations that burst over him, causing him to twitch in his underwear.

"Fuck," he breathed out, before his free hand took charge and ran itself through her hair, tugging on it gently so she would release his finger.

Samuel's lips pressed against hers with fervor need and Carla responded in kind, her tongue keeping up with the urgent movement of his.

And because every fiber of his being was chanting it. Samuel's mouth drew back, staying close, lips brushing hers. The words crawling incessantly under his skin until he couldn't stop them from being whispered against her.

"I love you."

Carla went rigid in his arms. And he mentally cursed himself, but he didn't regret saying it. What did she expect? Samuel couldn't keep it in any longer.

Carla pulled away stiffly. "Stop saying that."

"Why? It's the truth."

She rubbed her temples in distress. "No, it's not. You don't even know me."

Samuel gaped at her, how the fuck could she say that? Not only did she say he didn't know her, but she kept refusing to believe his feelings. And here Samuel thought the worst thing would've been her not saying it back.

"You're not actually serious, are you? I know you, Carla. In fact, I'm pretty sure I know you better than anyone."

And although his heart was in his throat with nerves, Samuel needed to say it again. To kill any doubts she had on the matter. "I'm in love with you."

Seeing her flinch from his words, physically hurt him. Samuel could feel the searing pain of her rejection, as she closed yet another door on him. She wasn't looking at him, and he didn't know if he should be thanking her for sparing him the mortification of having to look her in the eyes as she shut him down; or yell at her for crushing his heart without even looking as she did it. The strained silence was starting to choke him, Samuel weakly started to move; wanting to make his way out of the water - which now felt like it was scalding him.

"No, no, no," Carla said, grabbing his wrists, "don't leave like this, please."

"I should go." his voice was embarrassingly small.

"Samuel, you don't understand, I - " she looked almost frantic.

"It's all right, Carla." he tried to free himself from her clasp.

"No, no, it's not."

Samuel could see the agony on her face, and his resolve gave in, needing to comfort her. "It's okay."

"Fuck, stop saying that!"

Her exasperated tone shut him up momentarily as he waited for her to say something.

"It's not so easy for me to say it."

That should've hurt, but instead Samuel felt flickering hope flaring up inside him. That meant she felt it. She felt something for him, she just couldn't express it. And how pathetic was it, that it was enough for him to know that.

"Hey," Carla continued, her eyes pinning him to the spot, "let's make it a little quieter."

"What?"

"Let's quiet things down." Carla took a long deep breath and then she began to sink down; until he could only see her silhouette. Samuel's instincts took over, following her lead.

She was a vision under water, her hair floating around her, eyes as captivating as ever. Samuel swam towards her, both of them staring and unmoving.

A second later, their eyes closed and their foreheads touched. Samuel could sense the inescapable calm slowing down his hammering heart. They stayed down as long as they could, but oxygen became a necessity.

They resurfaced, their foreheads still connected, both gasping for air. They rested in the same position for a long time, trying to delay the inevitable end.

"It's getting late. You have to go," she said.

"I know."

"I'm sorry."

"I know."

Samuel pushed away from her, their eyes glued to one another as he tried to steadily get out of the pool.

He reached for his clothes, not caring that he was going to wear them while still wet. After Samuel was done, he looked back at the girl still in the pool one more time, her back to him. And he could feel the dark clouds emerging again over them as he hastily made his way out of her house.

_______________________________________________________

Samuel couldn't get past the fact that he was standing in Yeray's house. Carla's, too, if what he'd heard was true. Yeray bought her a fucking house.

Why was he here again?

The second Samuel'd arrived, he regretted it, but Guzman seemed more down than usual after Nadia and Samuel felt bad for the way he'd been treating him, so he stayed.

But Samuel also couldn't keep up a conversation with him, because his eyes seemed determined to find Carla. This was her party and she was no where to be found. A little later he was sauntering around the enormous mansion and he finally spotted her talking to Valerio.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," he muttered angrily to himself, marching towards them. By the time he reached them, Valerio was walking away and Carla looked frustrated. She also looked fucking breathtaking, but that was beside the point.

"Hello."

Carla's head whipped in his direction, raising her eyebrows. "Samuel, you came."

"You did send an invitation."

"Yeah, I just didn't think you'd come."

"I wasn't going to."

"Okay, well," she said with a rehearsed smile, "make yourself at home. Have fun!"

"Why were you talking to Valerio?"

She didn't care enough to pretend anymore. "Relax, Samuel. I don't have anything."

Samuel did relax but he didn't like seeing her so restless.

"It'll get better," he said softly, wishing he could help her, "it'll get easier to resist, you won't always feel like this. You should go see someone and - "

Carla scoffed loudly. "Right. What do you know?"

"More than you, clearly," he retorted a little harshly. She was back to being cold, and it put him on edge. He was fucking sick of it.

Carla shook her head with a chuckle. "Correction, you think you know better."

"In this case, I do. Because right now, you actually think that drugs are gonna make your problems go away. It doesn't work like that and you know it."

"No." she sighed, looking away from him. "it doesn't make anything disappear. But it sure does make life a lot easier and way more fun."

"For a short amount of time and then you're left with the consequences."

"I'm okay with that," she said with indifference, "anyway, I have guests to entertain. Enjoy the party, Samuel."

He opened his mouth to to stop her from leaving, but nothing came out. Suddenly feeling watched, Samuel glanced around and saw Rebe glaring in his direction.

Seriously, why that fuck was he here? He should've stayed home.

As if on cue, Guzman stepped next go him. "Now you're the one in need of a drink."

"I always need a drink," Samuel replied, staring at Carla across the room, "right now, I need twenty."

"Well, Samu," Guzman said, throwing an arm over his shoulder, "I'm sure that can be arranged."

They were five drinks in, and Samuel still couldn't glance away from Carla as she walked around the party, trying to look like she didn't need her next fix like she needed her next breath.

"What's going on with Carla?" Guzman asked from beside him, his tone a bit concerned.

Samuel didn't know if he should tell him. Carla wouldn't like it, even if she pretended not to care what people think. It was private, she just needed to get help and she would be fine. The only reason he'd told Polo; because even if he wasn't the main reason Carla was using currently - the asshole deserved to be reminded of the weight of the pain he had inflicted.

"She's just been having a really tough time."

"Why? She's got a rich boyfriend. She's somehow gotten away with covering up a murder, seems like she doesn't - "

"Don't," Samuel bit out in warning, "you don't know her as well as you think you do."

"All right, sorry." Guzman was taken aback by his tone, showing both palms in surrender. "Listen, I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive her for what she'd done. But you're right, Carla and I haven't been close in a long time. She's definitely - changed."

Samuel's curiosity piqued, his mind racing to ask about Carla before he had gotten to know her. "What was she like?"

"I mean, she hasn't changed that much. She's always been wild, down for whatever. Smart, she recognized what she had and was always quick to take advantage of it. Since she was my sister's first friend, she was mine too."

Guzman let out a small laugh. "I used to have a crush on her."

"What, really?"

"A very small and brief one, years ago, yeah. To be fair, everybody had a crush on Carla."

Of course. Samuel didn't doubt it for a second. She was magnetic.

"We used to talk all the time." Guzman smiled in remembrance. "She helped me with girls, she actually helped me with Lu."

Samuel grinned, wondering what it would've been like if he had actually known her back then.

As though she knew they were talking about her, Carla's laughter rang through the air, making both Samuel and Guzman look toward the noise. She was dancing with Yeray, her back pressed against his chest. Samuel's heart pinched painfully and it must have shown on his face, because Guzman put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"You really love her, don't you?"

Maybe it was the alcohol but Samuel felt no need to hide it. "Yes."

"Come on," Guzman said, standing up and motioning for him to follow, "let's get the rest of those twenty drinks in you."

And it didn't stop at twenty, he'd lost count at some point. Samuel had no idea how he actually managed to get home. The last thing he remembered was Carla dancing with Yeray and then his face was smashed into his pillow.

_______________________________________________________

Samuel wanted to rip his eyes out. This was probably the worst hangover in the history of his short life, and he was expected to sit through classes.

In the middle of his conversation with Guzman, he'd heard the commotion outside. Samuel couldn't really make out what was happening, but he saw Rebe in the middle of Polo and Valerio and instantly sprang to his feet.

"Why the hell are you defending him? He's the reason for what happened last night!" Polo yelled from the floor after Samuel had hit him a couple of times.

"I'm not defending him and what the fuck are you talking about?"

"Carla's in the hospital because of him! The bastard gave her drugs. Again!"

But Samuel didn't hear anything after Carla and hospital. His breath left him in a gust of panic. He froze in terror, heart pounding in his ears.

"What?"

"She overdosed and almost died drowning."

Stop. Stop talking, please. Samuel was going to pass out.

"Tell me." Samuel managed to grit out the demand through the crippling fear that had swept over his body, and Polo understood what he wanted to know.

"They said she's stable, but we can't see her right now."

And then Samuel's panic turned into blind rage as he lunged at Valerio.

"I told you to stay away from her!"

"Samu, stop! Please!" Rebe was pleading loudly. "Samuel! Stop, stop. It was me!"

He faltered mid-hit.

"What?" Samuel didn't recognize his own voice. It was eerily calm.

"I, I did it," Rebe stuttered, "I sold Carla the drugs last night. I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" he could feel his entire body shaking.

"I - I was upset and I didn't know she would take all of it, that she'd actually over - "

"You didn't know!" Samuel snarled and she winced. "So it would've been okay to give it to her if she hadn't overdosed!"

"No, I - "

The principal's door opened, stopping Rebe in her tracks. Azucena looked down at the floor and they all followed her gaze. It seemed during the fight, Rebe had dropped a bag of drugs.

"What is this?" Azucena asked, looking at all of them.

Samuel didn't have time for this, he started to walk away.

"Where are you going?" Azucena asked, "I need to talk to everyone immediately!"

"You can expel me later," he replied, his feet speeding up.

"I have to go with him. Our friend, Carla . . ." Samuel could vaguely hear Guzman's voice from behind him as he sprinted outside.

________________________________________________________

Carla's father was staring at him and Samuel was staring right back. He was batshit crazy, if he actually thought that Samuel was going to leave. He'd been sitting in the hospital for the past hour. Guzman and Lu next to him. Yeray and Teodoro siting across from them, while Carla's mother was inside with her, having been the only one allowed to.

After a nurse came out and assured them again that Carla was doing much better and they could see her soon, Samuel felt like he could get up to get some water. He found Yeray standing in front of the vending machine and Samuel almost walked back to his seat, but he knew he needed to hydrate.

Samuel was taking a large gulp of water, when he noticed Yeray still standing behind him. "You want something?"

"I didn't know." it almost sounded like Yeray was talking to himself.

"Sorry?" Samuel asked, even though he really didn't want to speak with him.

"I thought she liked me, I didn't know he was forcing her to be with me."

And for the second time that day, Samuel's heart stopped.

"What did you just say?"

But Yeray was unable to answer, his lips trembling and he looked like he was about to cry. But Samuel didn't give a fuck how Yeray was feeling as he took a threatening step forward. "What did you mean?

And despite the fact that Samuel was already somewhat connecting the dots, he wasn't prepared for what came out of Yeray's mouth next.

Samuel was moving for Teodoro before Yeray was even finished talking, his veins lighting up with undeniable fury.

"You fucking asshole!" Samuel's bellow traveled through the hall, as everyone turned to look at him. Teodoro was standing, looking at his phone and when his gaze darted to him, Samuel could see the confusion in them.

"Your own daughter! What the fuck is wrong with you?" without hesitation, Samuel’s fist bashed him hard. And he could finally see realization dawning in Teodoro's eyes as he staggered back. Guzman and Lu were on Samuel in seconds, both trying to hold him back.

"Samu! What are you doing?" Guzman asked.

"Are you out of your mind?" Lu added incredulously.

Venom replaced the brief hint of remorse in Teodoro's eyes as he advanced on Samuel.

"I will end you, you dumb shit!" Teodoro promised, grabbing Samuel out of Guzman's grasp by the collar, before punching him and pushing him up against the wall. "You just signed your death warrant!"

Samuel growled, shoving him back with all his might. "You don't scare me, you disgusting, no good - "

"Hey, hey, break it up!"

Security had gathered around them and started pulling them apart. Actually, they were hauling Samuel away, as they checked on Teodoro.

"Are you okay, sir?" a security guard asked.

"Yes," Teodoro hissed, "throw him out."

"You don't have the right to do that!" Samuel shouted as another guard dragged him away.

"Stop. Don't make this worse for yourself, kid," the guard told Samuel almost kindly as he guided him outside.

"What the fuck was that, Samu?"

Samuel looked up to see that Guzman had followed him out, he was staring at him in complete bewilderment.

"He's a sick of piece of shit!"

"I know that but - "

"He forced Carla to be with Yeray as a part of a fucking contract for his wineries!"

"Holy shit..." Guzman stepped back in shock, his eyes wide.

Dizziness began to hit Samuel at an accelerating rate, this hell of a day was catching up to him all at once. He put a hand on the wall beside him, his head spinning.

"Samu? You okay?"

"All right." Lu had joined them, but Samuel could barely hear her. "I don't know if that was sheer insanity or - wait, what's wrong with him? He looks like he's gonna faint."

And then Samuel was hurling all of his stomach's content onto the ground.

Guzman was behind him, placing a hesitant hand on his back. Samuel kept coughing out everything inside him for a good five minutes. Maybe it was less, but it definitely felt like five.

The painful retching finally came to an end, Samuel slumped against the wall, utterly worn-out.

"Well, that was gross," Lu said, "but I'm sure it only helped. So, is one of you gonna explain what was that back there?"

"I'll tell you later," Guzman said.

"What, why? Just tell me."

"Later, Lu," Guzman insisted, "Samu, you need to go home and get some rest, man."

He couldn't, he had to see her. His anxiety was running high, winding him up so tight, he though he might throw up again.

"I have to see her," he said, his voice gravelly.

"You can forget about that now, genius," Lu said.

"He can't keep me out forever, he doesn't own the hosp - "

"No, he doesn't," Lu interrupted, "but he's still a very powerful, feared man, and you just royally pissed him off."

"I don't give a shit."

"Clearly." she rolled her eyes. "Guzman is right, even if there's a chance you get to see her, it's not now. Go home."

Samuel didn't care about their logic, his emotions were too strung and there was no way in hell he was leaving.

He wasn't there for her, that was all Samuel could think about. He hadn't been there when it all went down, he was too busy drowning his sorrow in alcohol. Guilt and regret clutched his heart.

"I'm staying," Samuel said with finality, moving away from the vomit at his feet to the next nearest wall and letting his body slide against it till he was seated on the ground.

"Okay," Guzman said, sitting down next to him.

"You don't have to."

"She's still my friend, Samu. I want to."

"All right, I'm going back inside," Lu said, turning around, "I'll keep you updated."

"Hi," a voice said a while later.

Samuel glanced up at Rebe, and quickly turned away. He had no idea how she wasn’t at school with Azucena, and he didn’t care to ask. He was still furious. She'd told him she was done, she'd promised. Carla almost died because of the drugs she’d provided.

"What are you guys doing out here? Why aren't you inside?"

When Samuel didn't answer, Guzman supplied, "It's a long story,"

"Uh, okay. Are visitors allowed yet?"

"No, not yet," Guzman told her.

"Leave, Rebeca," Samuel gritted.

"Samu - "

"Leave."

She took a deep breath. "No, I understand that you're mad, but I'm not gonna go."

Samuel wanted to say something back, but he was beyond exhausted. And as long as she didn't talk to him, he could ignore her presence. Samuel was a bit confused when instead of going inside, Rebe chose to sit down next him, she still made sure it was a few inches away. And so the three of them sat there, waiting.

Samuel shut his his eyes, his mind conjuring up images of Carla; smiling, talking, kissing him. And he could feel them trying desperately to ease the overwhelming dread and panic that had erupted within him.

[themoonandotherslikeit]

The Daughter of a Righteous Man- Chapter 11

*SEQUEL TO THE LOOK IN HER EYES*

After her husband is drug to Hell, Ava Winchester and her brother in law Sam try their best to do right by Dean and raise her daughter, only to find that good intentions aren’t always enough. Loving someone isnt always enough.

Chapter Eleven, All This Time

Ava

Another shot echoed through the air. "Shots fired! We have an officer down!"

I laid on my back, the late afternoon sky was turning to evening. My head pounded as I watched a cloud float languidly above me. "Winchester! Are you okay?" Lacey was over me. She popped open the buttons from my shirt to examine my wound, and she let out the breath she had been holding.

"You're wearing your vest."

I sat up slowly. "I think I have a serious bruise." I smiled wryly. "But yeah, I think I'm okay." I glanced at the perp. He was face down in the concrete. "We are going to have a lot of paperwork."

"Yup. It's gonna be a late one," she said helping me up.

Back at the station Lacey started on our paperwork, and I went to the bathroom. I unsnapped my bulletproof vest and looked at the massive black and purple bruise on my ribs.

I thought about how the boys and I could've used one in our time hunting. I winced touching the edge of the bruise. In my mind I could see Sam and Deans scars on their chests and arms. The cuts and bullet wounds that they took care of themselves.

Dean and I always talked about how Sam should date a doctor so they could finally stop having to stitch up each other. It didn't matter anymore. We weren't hunting. Sometimes I wondered if Sam missed it. If he missed it like I missed being a detective, and like how I honestly missed hunting.

I pulled my shirt back down and grabbed Lacey and I both coffees. "Sam is going to be pissed when he sees the bruise. He told me to be safe."

"You were safe."

"We have a child," I said with a huff, sitting down. "I'm not supposed to be in armed chases."

"So you and Sam... you're taking the plunge?" Lacey asked handing me my paperwork.

"The plunge is a little dramatic," I said clicking my pen. "But yeah. We are trying. It's only been a few weeks, but it's been nice."

I lied and told Lacey that Dean was a soldier. I told her that he died in Afghanistan. It was the only explanation I had for what we'd all been through, for why I couldn't talk about him. She asked if Sam served too, her brother had and she said that Sam had the look. Like he'd been through the shit.

"I think it's good that you two are trying. You should be happy."

"Thanks Lace." I signed my name at the end of the first form. "I really should call him. He's going to be worried."

"Hey, go ahead and go home. I'll finish up here and help you tomorrow. You've got a tall dark and handsome man to see." She wiggled her eyebrows at me.

"I wouldn't call him dark." I winked at her. "But, yeah, thanks. I'd like to go home and see him and Nel."

I grabbed my purse and jacket. I was going home to see my family. We were a family, and things were finally good. I was finally feeling happy again.

Dean

I gasped, feeling shallow air enter my lungs for the first time in what felt like a life time. I didn't realize that there wasn't air in Hell. What fueled the fire, then?

I couldn't see shit, so wherever I ended up was dark. I was laying on my back and when I reached out and around there were walls on all side of me. I reached into my pocket for my phone or anything to provide some light. My body felt stiff, and my were fingers sore. I pulled out my zippo lighter and flicked it a few times before it came to life.

I was in a wooden coffin. "Shit." I coughed. My mouth and throat was so dry I could barely speak. I closed my eyes. What the hell am I going to do?

I reached down and pulled my knife out of my boot, barely able to move that way. I jimmied the edge of the coffin and held my breath, and pushed the lid out of the way. The dirt loosened around the coffin, pouring in around me.

Keep it together Dean. You've been through worse.

We had practiced this, when I was a kid. Dad would shove me in the box and close the lid.

"You have to be prepared for anything, Son. Remember there will be a lot to work through. Don't breathe in the dirt or you'll suffocate."

I had nightmares for years about being buried alive. Guess I owed him a whiskey after all.

I dug upwards, knocking dirt away with my knife, my fingers gripping at the clots of dirt and rocks. The ground was cold, and my skin stung. The darkness felt endless, and I hoped whoever buried me was lazy about it and didn't stick me more than six feet under.

My chest pounded. I'd always been claustrophobic, but this was my literal nightmare. All I could see was Ava. If I was back I had to see her, but there was still a chance that I was still in Hell. That this was just a new form of torture.

I wanted to stop then, to let the darkness take me, but like always, she came to me.

Dean you can do this. Break through and come home to me. I've been waiting.

In my mind she is still pregnant, just like I left her. Even if I was still in Hell, I had to try. I owed her that much.

I pushed up further with all of my strength, thrusting the knife upward. A beam of light came into the hole I was in. My hand broke through the soil, and I could feel the sun on my skin.

My hands felt dried grass as I pulled myself up, sucking in fresh air. I gasped a few times, laying on my back. I stared at the sky just feeling everything. For the first time in so long I wasn’t feeling any pain.

I stood up slowly and looked around me to find any indicator of where I was. In the circle around my grave marker a dozen trees laid on their side, as if they bent right over, all in a perfect circle.

It was weird, but so was rising from the grave so I didn't feel the need to stick around. I moved slowly to the road, needing a phone. Needing a drink. Anything. Any sign that this was all real.

I pushed forward, my skin itching from being underground. I slid off my flannel and tied it around my waist. I wanted to spit, to get the dirt out of my mouth, but there was no moisture inside of me. How long have I been gone?

A pit grew in my stomach. If I'd been gone as long as I thought, Ava would be old. My daughter would be grown up. Dad and Bobby would be... I shook of the thought. If this was a mind game it was a damn good one.

I spotted a connivence store ahead of me, and I picked up the pace. It was old and run down, and there were no cars around it. I knocked a few times. "Hello?" I croaked. Even if there was someone there they wouldn't be able to hear me.

I rolled my eyes and wrapped my flannel around my arm as I sent my elbow through the glass on the front door. I let myself in and immediately went to the cooler. I pulled out a bottle of water and sucked it down.

I'd never felt anything better than the cold water running down my dry, cracked throat. It tasted almost sweet. If water tasted that good I couldn't even imagine having a beer again.

I had to pull back so I could breathe. My lungs opening. Fresh air. It was all surreal. I walked around the store, still suckling my bottle. There was a stand near the back wall with newspapers stacked. I picked one up to check the date. April 12th. My heart sunk. It wasn't as long as I thought, but if this was right... I'd been gone for four months. My daughter and my wife were out there somewhere. They had to be.

I made my way to the bathroom. I needed to splash my face. I needed some clarity. I turned on the water, taking it in my hands. It felt good on my raw skin. My muscles tight from being stagnant for four months.

I looked at myself in the mirror and frowned. I was ripped apart the night that I was drug to hell, but yet when I lifted my shirt there were no scars. I looked under my left sleeve and then my right. My breath hitched in my throat. My right shoulder held a pink scar. Still fresh. It was barley healed. If I didn't know any better I'd say it was a handprint.

"Fuck, Sammy what did you do?"

I walked toward the front, to collect some supplies when the tv turned on next to me. It was all static. I clicked it off only for it to turn back on. The radio clicked on as well. I reached immediately, just like I was taught, and I grabbed salt off the shelf and poured it around the window. I glanced back at the tv. Something was happening. A high pitched ringing came to my ears. I covered one, but it just got louder. I dropped the salt, my hands covering my ears. My ear drums were going to explode.

The glass windows cracked and exploded in an instant, sending me to the floor, covered in glass. The noise stopped, and I looked around. No cold spots. What the fuck is going on?

I opened the cash register for some coins. I went outside to the pay phone, because my cell was dead in my pocket. I slipped a coin in and dialed Sams number from memory. "The number you have tried to reach has been disconnected.” Ava's was disconnected too.

Something was wrong. I tried Bobby next. Ring. Ring. Ring. "Hello?"

"Bobby?"

"Who is this?"

"It's me."

"Whose me?"

"It's Dean..." I began, my throat still hoarse.

Click.

I groaned and slid another coin in. I dialed his number again.

"Listen, I don't know who this is, but it isn't funny. You call here again, and I'll kill ya." Click.

I rubbed my face. I wasn't sure where I was. I couldn't place it, but there was an old car parked near the phone booth. I shook my head and pushed out of the phone booth to hot wire it.

I planned to head straight to Bobby's. I didn't know what happened while I was gone, but if Ava and Sams phones were off there'd be no guarantee that they'd be at the house, but Bobby was still at home. That was a start.

—————————-

I knocked on his door. I drank five bottles of water and ate some jerky on the drive up. I was feeling a lot better, but not as good as I felt when Bobby swung the door open.

He looked good, and I realized then how much I missed him. "Surprise!"

Bobby's mouth hung open. His eyes squinted. "I don't..."

"Yeah, me neither," I said stepping through the door. "But here I am."

He came at me with a knife. I dodged him and put a chair between us. "Bobby it's me!"

"The hell it is!" He came at me again.

"Wait wait! Your name is Robert Singer, you became a hunter when your wife was possessed by a demon, your niece is Ava Langston. I married her even though you told me no... Bobby it's me."

He pushed the chair out of the way and reached out slowly to touch me. His hand rested on my shoulder for a split second before he came at me again.

I pushed him out of the way, managing to take his knife from him. "I'm not a shape shifter!"

"Then you're a revenant!"

"If I was either could I do this with a silver knife?" I asked, groaning internally. I sliced my upper arm, feeling the familiar sting of blade against flesh.

"Dean?"

"That's what I've been trying to tell you."

"It's good to see you, Son. How did you bust out?"

"I don't know.. I just.."

My face was wet. Bobby had taken his flask of holy water and doused me with it. If I weren't so damn happy to be alive I'd be annoyed. I took my sleeve and wiped it off. "I'm not a demon either. Satisfied?"

"Better safe than sorry." He shrugged. "This doesn't make any sense... you were ripped to shreds. Even if you got out you shouldn't have had a body to come back to. What do you remember?"

"Nothing," I lied, my jaw tense. "Sammy and Ave’s phones are turned off... are they?"

Bobby sat up a little straighter. "They're okay. They're still living at the house, they just wanted out. The last few months have been tough. We had to bury you."

"Why did you bury me?"

"I wanted to salt and burn you, ya know the hunters funeral, but Sam wouldn't have it."

"Well," I said, touching my solid form. "I guess I'm glad he won that argument."

"He said you'd need your body when he brings you back home somehow."

"Well he brought me back alright, but whatever he did has bad mojo. Something blew past me at a gas station and then there's this." I pulled up my sleeve to show him the hand print.

"What the hell?"

"Looks like a demon pulled me out of Hell."

"But why?"

"To hold up its end of the bargain." I turned, sending my fist into the wall.

"You think he made a deal?" Bobby didn't look convinced.

"Yeah, I do. It's what I would've done."

Sam

"Who are you?" I asked, grabbing for the knife and the holy water in the side table near the door.

"I'm Dean." He looked confused.

I grabbed the knife and lunged at him, but he grabbed ahold of me. "This shit again?" He grumbled, taking my blade. "Look," he said, cutting his forearm. "Not a shifter, not a revenant. Give me the holy water."

I looked at him curiously, but I complied. He took a swig of the flask and let me go. "Dean?"

"I know... I look fantastic." He gave his classic wide grin, and I pulled him into a hug. He was solid. He was here.

He squeezed me back before releasing me. "So tell me," he began, stepping into the house. "What did it cost?"

"What did what cost?"

"Getting me out. Did you just sell your soul or is it something worse?"

I frowned. "Dean, I didn't sell my soul. I tried. I tried everything and no one would deal. I don't know how you got back, but it wasn't me. It's been tearing me up I knowing I couldn't save you."

"Are you lying to me?"

"No. I'm not. I'm so sorry."

"You don't have to apologize, Sammy. I believe you."

We looked between each other. We wanted to know, how did he get out?

He walked into the living room, picking up a framed photo of Ava. One that he'd taken. "Where... where is she, Sam?"

I swallowed hard. "She's at work."

His shoulders looked relaxed. "She's back to work? Where?"

"She just started working as a detective again. She should be home soon."

I wanted to warn her, but I didn't know what I'd say. I made love to her this morning, and now he's back.

"And..." He laid the picture down. "And what about Peanut?"

I smiled. "She's great. She's with Dad."

He crossed his arms and stepped toward me. "You let Dad take her?"

"He's actually really good with her," I said awkwardly.

Dean cleared his throat. "Hopefully better than he was with us."

"Much better," I agreed.

"Good... that's good." He slowly lowered himself onto the couch.

"Hey Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"What was it like?"

He glanced up at me. "What was what like? Hell?"

"Yeah."

"Honestly, Sammy, I don't remember a damn thing."

I looked at him, and with the way that his forehead was wrinkled and his hands were clasped together. I knew he was lying.

—————

Chapter Twelve, Lanterns

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