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thedaisycrownwitch · 4 years ago

Text

Genre: Angst

Characters: Sam Winchester, Cathy Scott (OC)

Pairings: Sabriel, Cathy x Gabriel (former relationship)

Warnings: Aftermath of major character death

Words: 2.608

Short summery: Sam calls apon an old ally, to reveal some devistating news.

Inspiried by

"Lost Without You" by Freya Ridings

"Goner" by Twenty One Pilots

DISCLAIMER

I don't want to offend anyone or their ship with this fanfiction.

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Slowly she set down on the chair, staring onto her hands. The skin around the nails was scarred, from biting them. It was red, where she licked away the blood, from biting them. She tried not to bite them, but she did. She noticed a bit of skin sticking out, loose. She should bite it. It would hurt, it would scar her more…she should bite it. Her eyes locked at her fingers; she couldn’t make herself raise her head to look at the man opposite her. It was a weird thing. Knowing you should look up, knowing you look away from staring at a spot, a spot with no importance. But you just sit there, staring at it, fascinated by it for some strange reason, so fascinated, letting it out of your eyes for just a moment was unthinkable.

It took her a lot of effort for her to tear herself away from the spot on her fingers. Slowly she looked up, not sure where to put her eyes, the blue of her iris cloudy. Like the sea during a storm. Turbulent waters, waves clashing with one another. She liked the sea; the sea was nice. In the morning, when nobody was there. It was calm, and smelled good. It smelled nice here too. It was probably Sam who smelled this nice. This hair looked freshly washed, shining just the smallest bit, a pearly shimmer. She always wanted to ask him what he used. But why bother. Her hair wasn’t washed, not since a few days. It looked awful when she looked into the mirror. She wondered what Sam though. Did he regret inviting her here? After all, it was so random. Him asking her to come here. It wasn’t like he didn’t like her; she never got this idea from when they had met. But they never met on purpose. He never called her to hang out of whatever, in fact, they barely knew each other. Last time she saw him…wow, that was a long while ago now. It was back when the British Man of Letters were still there…that was a year ago? Longer? She had lost count of time. On purpose. Why would she keep track? Days and months were just a concept after all. And if she would, it would just make her feel worse about herself, then she already did. Thinking about all the times she wanted to go to the graveyard and didn’t go. It was her who cared, no one else seemed to do. His family never called; she never saw any other flowers on the grave. Maybe he didn’t have family, yes, maybe he didn’t. She preferred to think that, because the other version of their story would clench her heart even more then it already did. That they didn’t care. That his parents, and maybe siblings, would just accept that he was gone, and went on with their lives, like he never was a part of them.

Sam took a deep breath; she saw his chest heave in an effort to let in air. “How are you?” It was a normal question, but it felt weirdly out of place. He could have asked her that on the phone. “I’m good.” She responded automatically, knowing, that, just by simply looking at her, he could tell that she was lying. Not that she was a good liar by any means, but she could lie, when people asked about how she was. It was a rather simple lie to tell people, in hopes they’d bugger off. Lying about this was nothing new to Cathy, she had been lying about this her whole life.

But even if Sam saw that she was not telling the truth, he didn’t seem to care for her answer, as she just nodded, looking down onto his hands, like he didn’t know how to continue this conversation. But if he didn’t wanna talk, why invite her? Was it for a mission? To convince her to joined forces again? Cause he thought she could help them, which was, with all good will in mind, laughable. There were hundreds of hunters, who could help him, most of them even better then she could. “If this is about a thing, I told you, I am done.” Her voice broke the silence, the words just lingering in the air, as she moved a strand of red hair out her face, that didn’t need moving. She sometimes forgot that her hair was short now…like she forgot many things.

As an answer, Sam shook his head, forcing himself to a light smile, which was a weird mixture of genuine, sad and fake, most likely in an effort to acknowledge her words, and not undermine them. “Yes, I know. I know you’re done.” For a moment his glance met hers, and there was a weird kind of appreciation in his eyes. Like she did something he could never do. Then he looked away. “This is…this is about…” He stopped, his fingers clenching against one another, like he was looking for a word, that could only pass his throat through great effort. “This is about Gabriel.” As soon as the name fell, everything around them came to a cold standstill. The man didn’t continue, as if he was waiting for a response from her, in order to have a standpoint on where to take this conversation from this point on. The woman pressed her lips together, taking a breath, which was a gasp, she tried to make look as effortless as a normal air flow, the tongue pressed against the roof of her mouth, killing any kind of noise that might have escaped. Her nose grew tense, her jaw lightly clenched, it hurt, where it was attached to her skull. The pain was a soft string, traveling inwards to her throat, where it nested and grew more prominent. What a never this man had, to bring this up. Both knew this was a tense subject, even with her constant assertion, that talking about this was not a problem. Both knew fell to avoid this subject, for obvious reasons.

“What about him?” Her voice had a neutral sound to it, in an effort to not letting it sound bitter, and a positive attitude was not something she could master right now. Her lack of emotion seemed to catch the Winchester off guard, since the look her gave her, was somewhat surprised. But he went back to his serious face really quick, noticing his misplacement of confusion. He knew more about this whole situation then she did, and that made him obviously uncomfortable to experience such feelings. “He is dead.”

The words hang in the air, as she started to nod, looking at him as she would understand what he said, and she did understand, yet, she didn’t seem to process the full meaning of the sentence. Very slowly, her brain started to draw the connections between the words, giving them meaning, while a gut-wrenching feeling arose inside of her, a mild pain coming from her stomach, her pulse increasing in speed. It was a slow process of coming to terms with something, that she thought she knew how it felt like. And a small part of her wanted to make a sarcastic comment about whether or not Sam actually believed that this was true. Gabriel had died before, and turned out to be still alive after all. She didn’t see him. Why would she; it would have been a stretch of boundaries she knew she couldn’t allow herself to do. She got a text from Cas, a call even, where he had offered her to come. But she refused. Not ready to accept that all the mourning, her sacrifices, were for nothing, despite the dreadful situation he had found himself in. And then there was this small fact, just this tiny detail, Cas might have forgot as he asked for her: They had broken up. For good. She let him go, hoping he would be happy with someone else, knowing she wasn’t fit for him. Not like other people.

Another pause occurred, none of the two parties said anything. They didn’t even look at one another. She looked away from Sam, feeling exposed to him, like an animal to their hunter. He eyes felt swollen, warm, even hot at times, as they filled with tears. Tears she desperately tried to push back down where they belonged. She didn’t want Sam to see her cry, in fact, she didn’t want anyone to see her cry. She didn’t want to feel exposed in her feelings. Feelings she desperately wished, she didn’t have, because they were pity. She wished that she didn’t care about this, she wished that she didn’t care about anything. But she did care. And that was the problem.

Sam continued to speak, desperately trying to tell her what happened, justifying what happened. Trying to find meaning in what happened. Cause he too, felt exposed, but in a different way. He had mourned, he still was. And he had cried, and sometimes still did. He felt exposed, because he felt privileged to be able to do those things with someone on his side. Someone he loved no less. Dean was here for him, Castiel was here for him, and Jack even tried his best to make him feel loved and appreciated, even in his grief. He knew that she didn’t have this privilege. She was alone. She didn’t have a family like he did, and, probably worst of all, she didn’t get love, like he did. He knew, that she had been together with Gabriel for quiet a while, but she had been young. Probably too young to understand, how relationships work. Moving on from Gabriel, at the time, hadn’t been a big deal for her. And he wasn’t judging her for that, he both had been young and inexperienced, just like her, her understood. Or at least, he thought he did. Watching her coming together with Garth, watching them go apart in good faith. He did root for her. Gadreel, the awkward crush they had on each other. He rooted for her. Mick, and their sweet, yet way too short, relationship. He rooted for them both, despite him knowing that Mick was not a friend to him. It took him a long time to realize, that she was never truly happy. That she put her best efforts and heart into other people, and in the end come out as the looser. So did he. But whenever he failed, he had his brother and Cas, and, from one day on, he had Gabriel. The angel, he knew now, she had loved more then anyone else in her life, and who she probably regretted giving away. Cause she made this choice of letting him go on her own, while everyone else from her, was taken. Garth, became a werewolf. Gadreel, killed himself in order to save Castiel. And Mick? He was executed, when he spoke up against his people. Because he fell in love with this life. With her. Sam didn’t want to deny that she didn’t love any of these man, quiet the opposite, but he understood the regret she had. Cause by now, he understood, that she had let Gabriel go, cause she wanted them to be together. She broke Gabriels heart in a way, she never would, she wasn’t that kind of person.

His stumbling words came to a halt, when he saw, how she straightened in her seat, her lip trembling in suppressed emotion. She wanted to be strong, take this like just another thing she endured. She wasn’t a stranger to loose people she held dear. But this somehow…this was different. For a moment her eyes fixed on his, as she slowly pushed herself up, her head turning towards the table again. Sam swallowed hard. “Cathy…” He tried to say something, but stopped, as he noticed how her shoulders tensed as he said her name. “…I’m sorry.” There was no response, no answer, just the sound of a light splash, as tears from her nose dripped down onto the glass table. Her chest contracted, trying to press out sounds she didn’t let through.

“I don’t need your sorry.” Her words cut through the room like a razorblade, small, but sharp. There was no screaming, no anger against him, not what he thought would happen. There was just…disappointment. “You were to protect him. I let him go, cause he wasn’t safe with me. I trusted you to keep him safe.” Finally Sam had an answer for something he had always wondered about. Finally it was out what the true reason was. And suddenly, he understood it all. Every weird bit of her not wanting to see Gabriel, whenever he was near, even after years and months. She had made this choice, because it was logical, because saving him was more important then he wanting to be with him. And in order to save him, she had to give him up. She did love him after all.

“I put all my effort into you, I would have bet on you everything I have. I knew you’d love him enough to do anything for him. And I thought you knew that…but everything I put into you, every bit of trust…it didn’t matter…you failed me. You failed us.” The words took a great force to be pushed from her body as calm and sorted out as they were. “You failed him.” On any other day, she wouldn’t have said anything. She would have just nodded, thanked Sam for his sentiment, grabbed her things and left, crying by herself. She was used to this. But this, this right now, this was different. This was about the only person she had left, after everyone else left her behind. The person that opened her eyes to how much you could truly love someone. And she had loved him. All through the end. She just didn’t want to admit it. Till right now. Cause now, there was no hope, not anymore. There was only regret. Regret for every moment she had been yelling at him, for every fight they had, for every moment she was somewhere else, and she could have spend with him instead. The regret of giving him the freedom, in order to save him, and just losing him even more in the process. “He was everything I had left, he was the only one that was happy. The one who deserved it more then anyone else…and you got him killed.”

On any other day, Sam would have been deeply offended by her words, hurt even. But this, this right now, this was different. There was only one person, Sam knew in all his life, that had loved Gabriel as much as he did. And it was her. And everything she said, suddenly felt justified to him. Cause it was just his own thoughts right back at him. And that told him, that her feelings were just the same. But there was nothing he could say to soften her feelings. Not now at least. So he didn’t say anything, as she grabbed her stuff, storming out the bunker, up the stairs and out the door. Nothing would help, only worsen it all. There was this faint hope, that she would drive home, and then cry with someone by her side, who would give her tissues and cookies and milk. But deep inside himself, Sam knew that there would be no one. Cause no one cared anymore, not like he wished people would. And that’s probably, what hurt him the most.

#supernatural #spn #supernatural fanfiction #sabriel #own character #angst #sadness #major character death #coping #bad news #songfic #sam winchester #samwinterchester

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ohwhatamessiam · 7 years ago

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Give -Epilogue

Summary: Bucky and (Y/N) had an amazing yet brief relationship in Bucharest before all hell broke loose. Two years later they reconnect in a bar in Brooklyn, but things have changed and neither are the same people they were before. Will their relationship survive or is a break up inevitable?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: Language, brief fighting, lots of painful heartbreak, nothing but torturing my precious readers. POV switching for Bestie!SamWilson and the other Avengers that make an appearance.

Author’s Note: The actual finale to Give, my submission to @bladebarnes‘s #bladehits2kchallenge. It’s been quite a run, and there is a sequel in the works (which I have to write now that my dumbass already made a playlist). The sequel will feature the reader in a relationship with a woman I’m not straight, my characters rarely are too so if you’re not cool with that and want to be untagged (if you were part of the previous list) tell me. If you’re cool with that, send me an ask to get added to the tag list. As always, a huge thanks to @lostboyinneverland for keeping me going when it comes to writing and also for letting me make you feel things for the sake of fiction. Here’s the playlist for all of Give. Send me feedback, and I’ll hopefully have the sneak peek of the sequel up in a day or two. Thanks for all the love and support everyone! I’ll see y’all soon.

Give | Masterlist

The door down the hall slammed so hard it shook the walls, interrupting Sam Wilson from his binge-session of watching The Get Down. He moved to his own door, checking to see who it came from. The shadows moving under the crack of Bucky’s door, accompanied by smothered sobs, told Sam all he needed to know. He thought of going to him, telling him everything would be okay, eventually, but he thought it wiser to leave him alone for now.

Closing his own door, he fished his phone off his night stand. Scrolling through his recent messages until he found her contact name, Plum Girl, as he’d so affectionately taken to calling her after she’d ranted to him about how much seeing plums at the grocery store made her want to cry tears of happiness and longing. They were Bucky’s favorite fruit, they both knew that by now, and although they’d become good friends over the last couple years he’d always viewed her through the lense that she was Bucky’s heart. That she was a piece of his redemption.

Sam couldn’t trust Bucky before cryostasis, but hearing how she talked about him for those years softened his feelings towards Bucky. He still only trusted him when he had to, being kicked off a helicarrier and nearly killed by the guy multiple times didn’t make for an easy friendship, but (Y/N) had helped Sam see him in a different light.

Typing slowly and then erasing it, he tried to figure out what to say to the girl who just left the love of her life. He settled for all that would come to his mind.

Sam: You did it.

Plum Girl: It needed to be done.

Sam: Guess I gotta change your name in my phone now.

A couple hours later there was a series of loud knocks on Sam’s door. He rolled out of bed with an angry groan and yanked his door open, “What?”

The overwhelming scent of alcohol wafted from Bucky, forcing Sam to pull back from the doorway. “I want her number,” he demanded, pushing himself into Sam’s room. “I know you have it, so just make this easy and give it to me.”

“Make this easy? You’re drunk Bucky, leave her alone.”

Cool metal snaked around Sam’s throat, slamming his entire body against the wall of his room. “I just need to talk to her. I don’t-, don’t understand why s-she did that, and I need her to explain.”

Sam braced himself against the wall before kicking Bucky away from him. Bucky stumbled, trying to regain his balance before swinging at Sam. Sam dunked before grabbing Bucky around the waist and shoving him hard against the hallway wall across from his door.

“She broke up with you, don’t bother her.”

“She had no right to s-Sam, I love her and she loves me,” Bucky slurred, moving toward Sam. Steve and Wanda’s doors opened as they investigated what was happening.

“Man, where do you get off thinking that?” Sam snapped, pushing Bucky against the wall again as his anger took over. “(Y/N) waited for you, for two years! Every night was hell for her. Scott said she’d wake up in the middle of the night crying, and that was just when she was able to get any sleep. She tried to act like nothing was wrong, but these were the worst years of her life. Two years might not seem like anything to you super soldiers, but to us normal humans she was in agony for a long time.”

“Sam-,” Steve warned, appearing at their side and trying to separate the men.

“How would Scott know?” Bucky growled at them.

This time Sam turned to Steve, forcing him to answer. They exchanged head tilts and looks before Steve scoffed and gave in. “After she was assaulted last year, we had him keep an eye on her. He ended up staying on her couch for a few weeks and she knew about it. Nothing happened, he was just an additional safety precaution.”

“You g-guys didn’t bother to tell me about her getting attacked, or that s-she was training with Natasha,” Bucky spat out as he turned his anger on Steve. He shoved him hard, causing Steve to hit the opposite wall. “And you didn’t t-tell me you were monitoring her, having someone stay with her. I should have known about all this.”

“You were frozen, asshole,” Sam jabbed as he clenched his fists. “What were we supposed to do? Thaw you out so you could go be with her and risk all of us being found? We were fugitives! Scott only got to stay with her because he could dodge security getting into the US. Wanda met her because she was the only one who could get there fast enough to protect her. Steve and I spent months trying to figure out ways to get into the country, just so we could check on her a few times a year to then have to figure out how to get back out.”

Bucky was at a loss for words, trying to think of something to say back, but when he failed to find anything, he started swinging.

Wanda reached a hand out, freezing him where he stood, his fist just mere inches from Steve’s face. “I won’t let you move until you stop fighting us,” she warned, allowing Steve to move away from Bucky’s stilled assault.

They let him stay like that for a moment, watching his breathing calm. “Are you done being angry?” Steve asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

Bucky nodded, and Wanda dropped her hand. Catching himself against the wall, Bucky let out a deep breath. “I just want her fucking number.”

“Well, you’re not getting it,” Sam smirked as he tilted his head.

“Fine,” Bucky growled, pushing himself away from the wall. He moved down the hallway quickly, getting away from his friends and closer to more alcohol. He bumped into Steve, pushing past him and Wanda to get through. “I’ll find her myself.”

I’d gotten the text from Sam at 2 am, warning, He left the compound, said he’d try to find you. We didn’t tell him where you’re staying but you know he’s resourceful. A minute later he added, and drunk. I hadn’t gotten any sleep, but the thought of hearing a heartbroken Bucky speak forced me even more awake.

It took him almost two hours to find me, and as he reached my door he knocked once softly and whispered my name. I stayed still, hoping he wouldn’t even hear me breathing. He knocked and called my name three more times, each time getting louder than the last. When he gave up on me answering, he slid his back down my door and I heard him unscrew the lid on a bottle. There was the swish of liquid moving as the bottle was turned upside down. He was still drinking.

“I hope this is actually your room,” he mused, speaking in his normal, low voice. “I had to do a lot of flirting with the girl at the front desk to get this number, but I don’t think she lied to me.”

I shifted upward in my bed, pulling my knees into my chest. That girl was a goner. I knew how Bucky flirted and I was sure drunk him had pulled out all the stops.

“Natasha told me where you were staying this afternoon, before…everything.” He took another drink. “She thought I’d be ending my night with you, here, in a different way.”

Nat didn’t have the same context to our relationship that Steve or Sam did. And Sam full and well knew what Bucky was walking into, even warning me that it might be a little harsh to do it so quickly. I hadn’t brought it up to Steve, but I was sure he had his suspicions.

“I just, I don’t get it. Was it really that bad without me for two years?” He paused, “Sam said you woke up crying when you did sleep, and then you didn’t sleep the rest of the time.” I nodded to myself, knowing he couldn’t see me. “I guess that’s the bad part of being frozen all the time, I never have a concept of time.”

The bottle swished again and I heard a small “ahhh” come from him as he gulped. I willed myself to stay where I was, knotting my hands together and rocking myself gently.

“I’m sorry about it all. About not being there, about not talking to you, about leaving you alone. I didn’t think about how you-, you’d feel about it. I just did what I thought was best for everyone.” His head thudded against my door as he rested his body against it. “I just, I don’t understand why you don’t want to make this work. I’m back. I’m here. We can be together now.”

I bit my lip to stop myself from answering.

“I-, I spent the last two months getting de-programmed and, and they kept telling me to focus on something positive that would come from all this. It was you. I was thinking about you, and us, being together. Being happy without fear of the asset showing up. Not worrying about hurting you.”

The bottle’s contents sloshed again.

“I guess, I shouldn’t have worried so much about the asset. I hurt you without that shit being involved.”

I laid down on my side, keeping myself tucked in the fetal position. Urging myself not to cry, I squeezed my eyes shut and tried not to picture how sad he must look outside my door.

“I’m sorry I hurt you. I didn’t mean to. I-, I just guess I still have a lot to work on. Having relationships and being a person is kinda new all over again. I’m not that monster anymore, so I guess I need to learn how to be a human again.”

Rocking back and forth, I fought every instinct to go to him.

“I miss you though, I mean, fuck, you’re 20 feet from me and it feels like you’re on the other side of the planet. I miss your laugh, and your smile, and your lips. You teasing me about plums,” he chuckled, the swish of liquor distracting him for only a moment before he continued in a softer tone, “and your smell, how soft you are.”

The glass bottle clanked against his teeth and I felt tears running down my cheeks. Raising a hand to my mouth, I made sure no sounds came from me.

“I miss your faith in me the most I think. You believed in me at a time when I didn’t think anyone would again. You trusted me when I wasn’t even sure I could trust myself.”

A yawn left his mouth and I tried to quit the hot tears from pouring from my eyes, but they wouldn’t stop.

“I guess this is how you felt for the last two years. I get it now, it’s really shitty. But we can be together, even if it’s not how you want it to be. We could still be happy, (Y/N).”

He threw the remains of the bottle back and the empty bottle thumped against the hallway carpet.

“I love you so much, I really do. More than anyone in my entire long, screwed up life. And I know you still love me. We could be so in love, together, finally.”

I heard his body slide down the wall and him roll onto his back. His fingers stroked the door as I heard him choke back a sob.

“I want you in my life so bad. You’re all I want from this fucked up life. I deserve you after all this. I deserve to be happy with you.”

Another yawn came through my door as his knuckles traced the design of the wood.

“But I can’t forget about all I did. I know it wasn’t me, but I still did all those things. I-, I can’t just pretend like that’s okay. I have to work to fix that. I have to help people now. It’s the right thing to do. It’s what I need to do in order to heal.”

He rolled onto his side, his jeans scratching the carpet.

“But I’m not okay with all or nothing. I can’t do that. I need something else, something more. I don’t know who I’ll be without you now.” He paused, breathing becoming more shallow. “I may be heartless and cold again. I may not care anymore.”

I pulled a pillow between my legs and buried my face into it, smothering every feeling and word I wanted to say in it.

“That’s a lie. I’m always gonna care. Maybe not about other things, but always about you. I’m not okay with any of this, (Y/N). I’m not. But it won’t stop me from loving you with every part of me.”

His breathing became louder as he relaxed, letting sleep take over. Just as he drifted off to unconsciousness he whispered, “I love you. I’m never gonna stop loving you, (Y/N). But I guess that’s all I can do.”

I stayed locked in my position, waiting for any other words to leave his mouth, but nothing came out but soft snores. I wished I could go to the door and peek at him sleeping peacefully, but I knew I’d fold. And if I wanted to be able to live my life without the fear and loneliness that depended on Bucky, I needed to leave him. This emotional hell wasn’t good for me. He was a handsome super soldier, with a good heart and kind soul. He’d find someone else to be happy with. And it hurt that it wouldn’t be me, but the pain softened knowing that he would be happy again, eventually. Whether that was through being a hero or falling in love. Bucky being happy was all I really wanted for him.

After another couple minutes I texted Sam that he’d fallen asleep and that other hotel goers would be waking up soon.

He answered, Wanda and I will get him. I’m sorry about all of this.

I put my phone down and rolled onto my back, wiping the leftover tears from my face. I sighed, willing sleep to take over as I relaxed my muscles. A few minutes later I whispered to myself, and to Bucky, “I’m sorry about all this too.”

Tags: @irishdancr24 @fangirlisms-22 @suz-123 @plan3tmadison @tequilavet @yo-yo-bro-bro

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