The fact that Sam couldn't find her in her room had kicked him into high-gear, going right into protection mode and scaling through the trees in a highly effective searching pattern, and when he did find her, it was one moment of shock, staring worriedly at her.
The next moment, he was there with her, hands gently stroking her arms. "Hey," he exhaled. "Veronica, come on. Come with me?"
Veronica's breath shook as she looked up at him, nodding without moving to go anywhere. She was tired, her muscles frozen, and she just wanted to sleep - or to wake up. Instead she just sat there, wanting to move closer to him and unable to get her arms to uncurl from around her legs. She felt so small, so young, and when she closed her eyes, she saw Lilly, stretched out and bloodied, on the ground. And then the tears were welling up in her eyes again and she turned her head away. "Lilly's - Lilly's gone... It took Lilly away..."
Sam gently eased down and did what Dean had done for him when he'd been paralyzed, staring up at Jess on the ceiling. He eased down on one knee and tugged her closer, a hand stroking her hair. "Do you want to go somewhere?" he asked softly. "I'm so sorry, Veronica. I really am." But sitting here wasn't good. He needed to get her somewhere a bit more comfortable.
Leaning against him, Veronica nodded again. She didn't really want to move, but even through the grief, she was aware the sun was setting. Being out in the jungle at night wasn't the best idea. They should go, they should move, but all she knew was that the last place she wanted to be was in her room. "Somewhere's good," she said quietly, aiming for casual even now.
If she didn't want to move, then he could move her. He had a foot and a bit on her and he scooped her up in his arms, like a honeymoon carry, the muscles in his arms flexing and straining. "Back to my place?" he offered quietly.
Worrying at her lower lip, Veronica nodded and reached up to curl her arms around his neck. The movement had startled her out of the haze of grief just enough for her to remember that falling was a bad idea. Ordinarily she would have protested her own ability to walk, even if there was nothing wrong with being carried, but right now she wasn't too sure just how true it would have been. The world had grown unsteady and she wasn't taking any chances on weak legs leading her to trip over her own feet; she felt stupid and useless enough without that. "Yeah," she said softly. "Please." Just because she didn't want to go back didn't mean she wanted to be alone.
It wasn't hard to carry her, really. She was light and Sam was strong and he knew sometimes that you needed someone to just carry you until you had the strength to walk. "If you don't want to talk at all, that's fine," he promised, heading in the direction of his hut.
"But if you do, I'm here," he assured, voice sympathetic and carrying the deepest of concern.
Veronica hadn't been good at talking about her feelings in a long time, the inevitable result of burying them all after Lilly's death, living proof it was easier to be angry than to cry. It was harder when she felt so much, when all she was doing was trying not to cry again. At least Lilly'd just disappeared. At least she hadn't felt anything. At least, this time, no one had attacked her, hurt her. She'd just vanished. But Veronica still missed her already; maybe she'd never stopped missing her.
"She hated it here," she said, words directed more into his shirt than to his face. "She always hated it."
He tried to stroke her hair and still carry her, pushing open his door with his hip as he eased her inside and gently laid her down on the bed before joining her. "It's okay," he assured, giving a half-awkward laugh. "Maybe she got her wish in going?"
With her knees tucked up against her, Veronica nodded. "Maybe," she said quietly. "I... guess so. But she's... It's not like there's anything for her to go back to." She took a deep breath at that, steadying herself. This time she couldn't do anything about it. It wasn't like she could put the island in jail.
Sam eased closer and tugged her into his arms again, where he could gently rub her back in comforting circles. "Hey," he murmured. "I can take another look for her if you want?"
Maybe it was just pessimism, but she couldn't help feeling like this was final, permanent, and there was no point in looking because nothing would turn up. She'd searched all day without finding a hint of her and all the tell-tale signs had been there. And yet, Veronica couldn't help nodding. "Maybe she's just... run off to be on her own for a while," she said, not really believing it though she wanted to. "It just... All her things are gone." She pressed closer, tilting her head back to look up at him as she bit her lip.
"I'll start tracking this evening. I'll even take Dean," he promised. "It's what we did for a living, Veronica, if she's still here, we'll find her," he promised, and stroked her hair gently, other hand steady on her back.
Veronica tugged gently at his shirt, fabric bunching in her fingers, her arms bent close between them. "Do you think maybe I could... stay here tonight?" she asked, then turned her eyes up to him. No matter how good they were at it, she was fighting not to get her hopes up, not yet. Her voice was steadier now, everything about her calmer, if only by sheer force of will. "I mean, if... if that's not going to work, I can - it's fine. It's just... I don't really want to be in that room right now."
"Veronica," Sam assured softly, keeping her as close as humanly possible (and demonically possible, too). "You can stay here whenever you want. You should know that," he murmured, kissing her forehead gently. "Okay? You don't even have to ask. My bed is your bed if you want."
"Yeah, well, I figured asking was probably the nice thing to do," Veronica said, almost smiling. "I mean, you know what happens when you assume." Taking a deep breath, still tense in his arms, she looked down, away and back again. "Sam," she added softly, letting his name trail off, a momentary pause hanging there before she continued. "Thanks."
The next moment, he was there with her, hands gently stroking her arms. "Hey," he exhaled. "Veronica, come on. Come with me?"
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If she didn't want to move, then he could move her. He had a foot and a bit on her and he scooped her up in his arms, like a honeymoon carry, the muscles in his arms flexing and straining. "Back to my place?" he offered quietly.
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"But if you do, I'm here," he assured, voice sympathetic and carrying the deepest of concern.
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"She hated it here," she said, words directed more into his shirt than to his face. "She always hated it."
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