#post-possession lucifer should have left a hole in Sam

[quietwingsinthesky]

I just think Sam should have missed Lucifer more post-s5. Cage torture an optional addition to the dynamic. What I needed was for Sam to be like 120% more obsessed over the fact that he was never going to be Lucifer’s vessel again and to be angry with himself that he could ever miss that and be unable to stop himself from still wanting it.

[lunmelia]

A List of All of Sam Winchester’s Injuries

Now, this list might not be the most accurate. I did not sit down and watch every single episode in full, eyes glued to the screen for every time Sam got injured. I only skimmed. Here’s a gif I made to show how I did it: 

(sorry it’s bad quality, it’s the first gif I’ve ever made) I skimmed through the episode and used the little preview screen to look for any time there was fast movement, blood or a spell that might require someone cutting their palm. I also kept an eye out for angel-banishing sigils. Since I only skimmed, there’s a chance I missed some injuries or even times that Sam was magically healed. So again, might not be an accurate list but I did my best. Feel free to tell me anything I missed. 

Here’s a key to help you through the list: - most of this lists the actual injury, e.g. “cut on left temple” but other times it’ll list an action that may cause injury, e.g. “thrown into wall” - “thrown into / against” means that he impacted the object, but the object did not break / he did not go through it - “thrown through” means that the object broke on impact and he ended up on the other side - “internal pain” means that someone used magic to do something to him, but I have no idea what, all I know is that he looked in pain and was mostly gripping his stomach - “handcuffed” means actual handcuffs were used, “tied around wrists” means either rope or zip-ties were used - “punched” means just punched in the face, any other area on the body will be specified - any episodes that aren’t on the list means he wasn’t injured in them

Some misc notes: - I do not include injuries that don’t actually happen, e.g. future visions, nightmares, hallucinations or a fake reality - I might be inconsistent with the amount of times I specify what was used to knock Sam out, and not specifying. Sorry about that. It’s because I either just couldn’t see the object, or I was lazy that day - I don’t usually specify the size of the injury either, I usually just say “cut”, sorry. I only realised 6 seasons in that I probably should be specifying the size, and also taking screenshots, but I couldn’t be bothered going back back and fixing it, nor could I be bothered specifying the size from then on. I’m sorry, it was just going to feel weird if 6 seasons in I only then start specifying - I don’t include possessions as injuries, but I do specify when injuries happen while possessed - I include some commentary of what kind of injuries I thought should’ve happened based on the action - There’s also a list of Dean’s injuries, but there won’t be a list for Cas. Going into this, I only wanted to know Dean and Sam’s injuries for some redesigns I want to do, I didn’t feel it was necessary for me to know Cas’ because he won’t have scars in my redesign (at least his vessel won’t). Please don’t expect me to go back and make a list for Cas, this already took up so much of my time and I don’t want to do it again.

Let’s begin, shall we?

Season 1

1x1: Pilot - five holes in centre of chest from fingers 1x2: W*ndigo - falls down a hole 1x4: Phantom Traveler - head banged against wall 1x5: Bloody Mary - infected by Bloody Mary 1x6: Skin - tied to a chair around his neck, chest, hips, wrists and ankles - bottle smashed over head - tied around wrists - cut under right eye - punched - kneed  - kicked into bookshelf - hit across face with pool stick - elbowed in face - tackled into table - strangled - cut on left side of forehead 1x7: Hook Man - stabbed in right forearm with hook  - thrown into bookshelf that then falls on top of him 1x9: Home - strangled with lamp cord - thrown into walls and cabinets 1x10: Asylum - mind influenced by Ellicot - punched and knocked out 1x15: The Benders - cuts on both hands  - cut on chin 1x16: Shadow - 4 claw marks across left cheek - wrists tied - cut across nose 1x17: Hell House - choked with an axe handle 1x18: Something Wicked - life force sucked out of him, process interupted before completed 1x19: Provenance - hit by a dresser 1x22: Devil’s Trap - punched - split lip

Hey! The post under the cut is really long! Please be sure you want to continue reading before clicking, because you’ll be scrolling for a while!

Season 2

2x1: In My Time of Dying - in a carcrash - 2 cuts on right cheek - cut near right eye - cut across nose - split bottom lip 2x3: Bloodlust - knocked unconscious with an iron - wrists tied - cut on left forearm 2x5: Simon Said - sprained wrist? his right wrist / arm is in a cast but I searched and it’s not there in the previous episode and nothing happens between then and this episode that would’ve caused it, so I have no clue what happened. If someone does please let me know 2x9: Croatoan - diagonal slice on upper left pec 2x10: Hunted - kneed - elbowed in face - kicked in face and through wall - cut on left cheek 2x14: Born Under a Bad Sign - burned with holy water (while possessed by Meg) - jumped out a window (possessed) - punched unconscious (possessed) - tied to a chair by wrists and ankles (possessed) - binding lock on right inner forearm, that’s a circle with a line going through - burn over binding lock (possessed) - punched 2x17: Heart - 3 slashes on left cheek 2x19: Folsom Prison Blues - handcuffed around wrists and ankles 2x20: What Is and What Should Never Be - strangled - hit in the head 2x21: All Hell Breaks Loose, Part 1 - abducted by Azazel (I’m assuming he was knocked unconscious) - super punched across yard - possible dislocated shoulder - stabbed in the back - DEAD 2x22: All Hell Breaks Loose, Part 2 - resurrected by demon deal

Season 3

3x1: The Magnificent Seven - thrown - strangled 3x2: The Kids are Alright - punched - kneed - thrown around 3x3: Bad Guy at Black Rock - strangled - fell over and scraped knees - fell again and knocked himself unconscious - punched - shot in left shoulder 3x4: Sin City - thrown into a windshield 3x7: Fresh Blood - thrown through a wall - thrown into a shelf - kicked in the face - face banged against table - cut on right eyebrow 3x8: A Very Supernatural Christmas - strangled - head banged against wall and knocked unconscious - tied to a chair by wrists and ankles - nail taken off right index finger - punched - thrown into a table 3x9: Malleus Maleficarum - thrown into a wall 3x12: Jus in Bello - handcuffed - punched - thrown against walls 3x13: Ghostfacers! - tied to a chair by wrists and ankles - cut on left cheek - thrown around 3x14: Long-Distance Call - knocked unconscious with a bat - tied (very tightly) around wrists - cuts around wrists where tied 3x15: Time is On My Side - head banged against steering wheel - chloroformed - strapped down to a table 3x16: No Rest for the Wicked - punched - thrown into a wall

Season 4

4x1: Laxarus Rising - tackled into table and chairs - punched 4x2: Are You There, God? It’s Me, Dean Winchester - shoved into metal lockers, a wall and a mirror (probably has cuts on his left hand from it) - head banged on sink - cut above left eye - thrown into windshield - squashed between a desk and a shelf 4x4: Metamorphosis - thrown against a wall  - punched and knocked unconscious - 5 little holes / cuts on left side of forehead 4x5: Monster Movie - thrown through fake wall 4x6: Yellow Fever - thrown around - head banged against floor 4x7: It’s the Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester - internal pain - punched - strangled - thrown into wall 4x8: Wishful Thinking - struck by lightning and knocked unconscious 4x9: I Know What You Did Last Summer - thrown down stairs - jumped out a window - horizontal slash on left outer bicep - punched - kneed - strangled 4x10: Heaven and Hell - choked 4x12: Criss Angel is a Douche Bag - tied down by his wrists and ankles 4x13: After School Special - punched (when he was a kid) - stabbed with a pencil on upper left pec - kicked in the groin and face - punched (as an adult) 4x14: Sex and Violence - cut on left side of neck - infected by a siren - punched - broken / twisted arm - tackled through a door 4x15: Death Takes a Holiday - hit in the stomach 4x17: It’s a Terrible Life - thrown into a shelf - thrown against a wall 4x19: Jump the Shark - knocked unconscious with a shotgun - tied down to a table by his wrists and ankles - horizontal cut on inner right forearm - gash on his left side - vertical slashes on both inner forearms 4x21: When the Levee Breaks - thrown around into walls - tied down to bed by wrists and ankles - punched - kneed - kicked

Season 5

5x1: Sympathy for the Devil - kneed - punched - broken left leg - lungs taken away (put back) 5x2: Good God, Ya’ll! - shoved into a shelf - strangled - hit with a bat - hit with a shotgun and knocked unconscious - tied to a chair by middle, wrists and ankles - cut above left eye 5x5: Fallen Idols - strangled - thrown into tables - thrown into a column - knocked unconscious - tied by wrists 5x6: I Believe The Children Are Our Future - thrown into a wall - strangled 5x7: The Curious Case of Dean Winchester - strangled 5x8: Changing Channels - hit in the groin 5x9: The Real Ghostbusters - super slapped - thrown around 5x11: Sam, Interrupted - tied down to a bed by wrists and ankles 5x12: Swap Meat - hit in both sides of neck with darts and passes out, body swapped with teenager - tied to a chair around middle, wrists and ankles 5x13: The Song Remains The Same - thrown through a wall - kicked - stabbed in the stomach with a pipe - DEAD (revived by Michael) 5x14: My Bloody Valentine - punched - handcuffed 5x15: Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid - handcuffed 5x16: Dark Side of the Moon - shot in the chest - DEAD (revived by Joshua) 5x17: 99 Problems - gash on left shoulder 5x18: Point of No Return  - thrown into metal room divider - hemorrage (healed by Zachariah) 5x19: Hammer of the Gods - strangled 5x21: Two Minutes to Midnight - affected by pestilence (stopped later on) - faints - strangled 5x22: Swan Song - shot in the back and chest (while possessed by Lucifer) - jumped into the hell / the cage (Lucifer still possessing, but Sam in control) - DEAD - rescued from the cage by Castiel, however without his soul. Not sure if this required Cas to rebuild his body like he did with Dean, so I guess this part can be entirely up to your interpretation 

Season 6

6x1: Exile on Main St. - horizontal cut on inner left forearm 6x2: Two and a Half Men - thrown around 6x6: You Can’t Handle The Truth - knocked unconscious - tied by his wrists - punched - strangled - three claw marks on right cheek 6x7: Family Matters - cut on left side of forehead - cut beside left eye - cut on left side of jaw - cut under right eye - bleeding out of right ear - broken nose - tied by wrists - Cas reaches into his... soul? idk what he reached into since he has no soul - (previouis injuries healed by Cas) - strangled 6x9: Clap Your Hands If You Believe - beat with a cane - cut on left side of hairline 6x10: Caged Heart - knocked unconscious - bites into his own right inner wrist 6x11: Appointment in Samarra  - knocked unconscious with a baton - cut on left side of hairline - vertical gash on right side of right let - punched unconscious - handcuffed 6x13: Unforgiven - possible gash on right shoulder (not sure if that was his blood or someone else’s) - handcuffed - thrown face first into wall - tied up with webs 6x15: The French Mistake - thrown through a window - punched - internal pain 6x16: ... And Then There Were None - tied around wrists - electrocuted on his wright forearm, leaves a horizontal burn mark 6x19: Mommy Dearest - handcuffed 6x20: The Man Who Would Be King - thrown into a table 6x21: Let It Bleed - knocked unconscious 6x22: The Man Who Knew Too Much - comatose (he wakes up)

Season 7

7x1: Meet the New Boss - cut on left palm 7x2: Hello, Cruel World - knocked unconscious with a pipe 7x3: The Girl Next Door - punched and knocked unconscious 7x5: Shut Up, Dr. Phil - internal pain - strangled 7x6: Slash Fiction - handcuffed 7x8: Season 7, Time for a Wedding! - poisoned with love potion - knocked unconscious with sandwich cooker - tied to chair by wrists and ankles - thrown into a table and knocked unconscious - strangled 7x11: Adventures In Babysitting - strangled - bit on left side of his neck x2 7x12: Time After Time - cut on left palm 7x14: Plucky Pennywhistle’s Magic Menagerie - punched - thrown into a windshield - kicked - hit with a wench - cut on left side of hairline 7x15: Repo Man  - hit the back of the head with a piece of wood - thrown around 7x16: Out With the Old - thrown into a desk 7x17: The Born-Again Identity - hit by a car - broken rib - cut on his right outer forearm - cut on his left hand - cuts around his left eye - bruised and cut knuckles - skid marks on right elbow - tied down by his wrists and ankles - electrocuted 7x18: Party On, Garth - knocked unconscious 7x19: Of Grave Importance - ghost hand digs into back 7x20: The Girl With the Dungeons and Dragons Tattoo - somersaulted through glass 7x23: Survival of the Fittest - strangled

Season 8

8x1: We Need to Talk About Kevin - horizontal cut on inner right forearm 8x2: What’s Up, Tiger Mommy? - thrown into a table 8x3: Heartache - thrown into tables and chairs - strangled 8x4: Bitten - strangled 8x6: Southern Comfort - elbowed - headbutted - kicked into a table 8x10: Torn and Frayed - strangled - threw himself against a door multiple times 8x11: LARP and the Real Girl - strangled 8x12: As Time Goes By - handcuffed - knocked unconscious - tied around wrists 8x13: Everybody Hates Hitler - strangled for a second - dart in left side of neck and poisoned with spell - effects disappear once spellcaster dies 8x14: Trial and Error - arm glows and cramps with pain from completing the first trial 8x15: Man’s Best Friend With Benefits - thrown into a wall - knocked unconscious - thrown into a painting and tables 8x16: Remember the Titans - fell down stairs - flung back against ground - thrown against column 8x17: Goodbye Stranger - punched - tackled through glass door 8x18: Freaks and Geeks - knocked unconscious - tied to chair by wrists and ankles 8x19: Taxi Driver - punched - horizontal cut on left forearm x2 - thrown into a tree - hand glows and cramps with pain from completing another trial 8x20: Pac-Man Fever - punched - pushed into a fence - thrown around 8x21: The Great Escapist - really sick, passes out 8x23: Sacrifice - bit on left inner forearm - 2 cuts below right eye - cut on left palm

Season 9

9x2: Devil May Care - punched - thrown into a metal counter - head banged against wood 9x3: I’m No Angel - thrown through a glass door - punched - knocked unconscious 9x4: Slumber Party - hit in face with a piece of wood (while possessed by witch) 9x5: Dog Dean Afternoon - four claw marks on left side of neck (healed by Gadreel) - knocked unconscious 9x7: Bad Boys - thrown into a door - choked 9x8: Rock and a Hard Place - thrown through wood planks and knocked unconscious - burn on left lower side of torso, above liver 9x10: Road Trip - punched unconscious (while possessed by Gadreel) - tied to chair around wrists and ankles (possessed) - 2 needles in left temple (possessed) - needle in right temple (possessed) - needle in centre of foreheard (possessed) - (needle wounds healed by Cas) 9x11: First Born - needle in right side of neck 9x12: Sharp Teeth - knocked unconscious - tied around wrists 9x13: The Purge - cupboard dropped on top of him - punched - kicked through a wall - strangled - split lip 9x15: #THINMAN - tasered unconscious - handcuffed 9x16: Blade Runners - cut on right cheek - cut on right side of neck 9x17: Mother’s Little Helper - punched into a pile of boxes - kicked - choked 9x19: Alex Annie Alexis Ann - hit in the gut - blood drained from both forearms 9x23: Do You Believe in Miracles - punched unconscious

Season 10

10x1: Black - broken arm (I have no clue how it got there) - punched unconscious - tied to a chair by wrists and ankles 10x2: Reichenbach - chokes on smoke / gas - punched unconscious 10x4: Paper Moon - strangled x2 - punched in the gut 10x5: Fan Fiction - knocked unconscious 10x7: Girls, Girls, Girls - punched 10x8: Hibbing 911 - knocked unconscious - tied around wrists 10x11: There’s No Place Like Home - wrists and ankles tied - choked 10x12: About a Boy - elbowed in the face - thrown into a cabinet 10x15: The Things They Carried - thrown against a wall - strangled 10x18: Book of the Damned - strangled 10x19: The Werther Project - 2 horizontal cuts on right forearm 10x20: Angel Heart - knocked unconscious with pipe - handcuffed - headbutted - punched - thrown into a wall 10x22: The Prisoner - thrown through window and into tiled wall 10x23: Brother’s Keeper - punched - cut on left cheek - cut near left eyebrow, close to nose

Season 11

11x1: Out of the Darkness, Into the Fire - thrown into a shelf - infected by a rabid 11x2: Form and Void - burns the infection off (it’d be pretty sick if he actually had burn marks from this) 11x3: The Bad Seed - thrown into a pile of boxes 11x4: Baby - jagged cut on right cheek - 2 jagged cuts above right eye - (injuries hinted to be healed by Cas off screen) 11x5: Thin Lizzie - tied around wrists 11x6: Our Little World - headbutted - punched - strangled - throws shoulder against door multiple times - thrown against door and knocked unconscious 11x7: Plush - shoved against walls - strangled - thrown into cabinet - thrown against impala - knocked unconscious 11x10: The Devil in the Details - punched - cut beside left eye - headbutted - elbowed - cut on nose 11x12: Don’t You Forget About Me - hit in gut and face with sledgehammer - hit in back with piece of wood - falls off railing and hits titled floor - hit multiple times with piece of wood 11x13: Love Hurts - I assume he hit either a wall or a table, he was thrown but the impact wasn’t shown - choked 11x14: The Vessel - shoved against stone column - soul touched by Lucifer - cut on left palm 11x15: Beyond the Mat - thrown against a metal beam 11x16: Safe House - possibly cut one of his palms, I’m not sure if they purchased that blood or if it’s Sam’s - punched - thrown into counter - punched in the gut 11x17: Red Meat - thrown through table - shot in left lower torso - choked - body went into shock, heartbeat slowed down to almost nothing - cut on nose - falls down stairs 11x18: Hell’s Angel - either internal pain or choked 11x20: Don’t Call Me Shurley - infected by Amara’s fog, passes out - infection healed by God, probably 11x22: We Happy Few - Mark of Cain burned into his right forearm, process interrupted before completed 11x23: Alpha and Omega - strangled - shot in left thigh / knee

Season 12

12x1: Keep Calm and Carry On - tied to a chair by ankles and wrists (tightly handcuffed, looks like it could cut, maybe) - electrocuted - tortured with a cold shower - 2 burn streaks on right side of right foot - needle on right side of neck - drugged - punches a mirror - cut on left palm - kicked in the face 12x2: Mamma Mia - either stabbed in the mouth or a tooth taken out, they never show what actually happened - cut on left shoulder - cut on left cheek - cut on left side of forehead - elbowed in the face - (possibly healed by Cas, seeing as he’s completely fine in the next shot) 12x3: The Foundry - throws himself against a door multiple times - thrown into a shelf 12x4: American Nightmare - knocked unconscious - tied around wrists 12x5: The One You’ve Been Waiting For - elbowed in the face - punched 12x6: Celebrating the Life of Asa Fox - thrown into a table 12x8: LOTUS - handcuffed around wrists and ankles 12x9: First Blood - DEAD (revived by Billie) - cut on left palm 12x10: Lily Sunder Has Some Regrets - punched 12x11: Regarding Dean - thrown into a bookshelf - ears profusely bleeding - tied to a chair by wrists 12x12: Stuck in the Middle (With You) - shoved into a wall - glass smashed over his head - fell through wood railing, over porch and impact on ground - punched - elbowed in the face - hit with pieces of flying wood - flung backwards - hit in gut, face and neck with base of spear 12x16: Ladies Drink Free - headbutted - falls back through wood room divider 12x17: The British Invasion - thrown into metal door 12x18: The Memory Remains - either hands or face hit with a hammer - face then clearly hit with hammer and he stumbles back into a pile of boxes 12x19: The Future - thrown through park bench 12x20: Twigs & Twine & Tasha Banes - shoved into a wall - punched - thrown through table - strangled

Season 13

13x1: Lost and Found - thrown into a wall and knocked unconscious - strangled - thrown into a wall again - kneed in the face - punched - kicked 13x2: The Rising Sun - choked 13x5: Advanced Thanatology - thrown across floor and hits chair and table 13x6: Tombstone - thrown back into floor 13x7: War of the Worlds - kicked into wall 13x8: The Scorpion and the Frog - punched - thrown across floor - hit with rock and knocked unconscious 13x9: The Bad Place - hit in the face with base of angel blade 13x10: Wayward Sisters - hit in side and face with base of spear and knocked unconscious - tied around wrists 13x11: Breakdown - knocked unconscious - tied down to a table by wrists and ankles 13x12: Various & Sundry Villains - tackled onto hood of impala - strangled x2 - hexed to stay in one spot - thrown into bookshelf - thrown through table 13x13: Devil’s Bargain - thrown into beside table - internal pain 13x14: Good Intentions - knocked unconscious 13x15: A Most Holy Man - handcuffed - knocked unconscious 13x17: The Thing - possibly poisoned, I’m not sure but he faints after eating food - tied around wrists 13x18: Bring em Back Alive - tackled into control panel - punched in side - thrown against wall - internal pain 13x19: Funeralia - passes out from spell - tortured by Rowena’s magic 13x20: Unfinished Business - thrown into wall - strangled 13x21: Beat the Devil - neck torn out on right side - DEAD (resurrected by Lucifer) 13x23: Let the Good Times Roll - windows exploded behind him and he was flung back into the impala from the force of the explosion - punched - hard impact on ground - kicked in the face - strangled

Season 14

14x1: Stranger in a Strange Land - thrown through table and chair - punched - kneed in groin 14x3: The Scar - hit in back of knee with spear - tackled through table - punched - strangled 14x4: Mint Condition - hit in face - flung back against counter - knocked unconscious 14x9: The Spear - hit in back of head with bat - thrown into truck x2 - knocked unconscious - internal pain 14x11: Damaged Goods - hard impact against floor 14x13: Lebanon - either jumped to the side and hit the bookshelf or he was thrown from the force of the fire - hit in the side and face with gun - choked - punched - thrown through table - head banged multiple times against table - cut on nose 14x14: Ouroboros - thrown into counter - thrown onto table (during this, his back impacts a glass dead on and when I was 10 I jumped off a couch and my foot hit a glass dead on and my foot was cut open so I expect cuts on his back) - not able to breathe - temporarily blind - internal pain 14x15: Peace of Mind - brainwashed by the town / the witch, forgets who he is and thinks he’s someone else - hard impact on ground - almost gets his head blown off, process interrupted before completed 14x16: Don’t Go in the Woods - strangled 14x17: Game Night - punched - hit in the face with rock - shoved against impala - cut on left temple - cut and bruised knuckles - (all healed by Jack) 14x20: Moriah - thrown into bookshelf - shot in left shoulder with the Equalizer 

Season 15

15x1: Back To The Future - cut on left side of torso, near waist (healed by Cas) - punched - kicked 15x5: Proverbs 17:3 - shoved against floor - thrown into wall - thrown back and knocked unconscious 15x6: Golden Time - internal pain x2 - hexed to spit up blood - wrists tied - voodo stabbed in chest - voodo arm twisted 15x7: Last Call - flung back into brick wall and knocked unconscious - partially healed by Sergei, bullet would still weirdly infected though 15x8: Our Father, Who Aren’t in Heaven - kicked - punched - strangled 15x9: The Trap - tied to chair by wrists - bullet wound dug around in with a scalpel 15x10: The Heroes’ Journey - punched - hard impact on ground 15x12: Galaxy Brain - hit in face and gut with sticks 15x13: Destiny’s Child - thrown 15x14: Last Holiday - fingernail taken off from 3 left fingers - thrown into wall 15x17: Unity - choked - punched - headbutted 15x19: Inherit the Earth - thrown into a bookshelf - thrown across beach - internal pain - punched - hit in the neck - kneed - kicked - kicked in the face - broken right arm - cut on left eyebrow - 2 cuts on left cheek - cut on right temple - (all healed by Jack) 15x20: Carry On - hard impact on ground - punched - knocked unsconscious - DEAD (old age, permanently) 

[jasontoddiefor]

Title: you gave up half your life Fandom: Supernatural Summary:  When Dean and Cas disappeared, Sam was lost. But in a world that had nearly broken apart so many times, he wasn’t the only one who needed support and guidance. AN: Remember when I ranted about season 7? Yeah good times. Here’s my 10.000 words Salty Post Season 7 Fix-it in which Sam Winchester accidentally starts organizing a bunch of Hunters all while trying to find his brother.

Read on AO3

Sam didn’t remember the first 48 hours after Dean had disappeared. He knew he must have gotten out of the building, away from the Leviathans, the demons and every pretty little hell his mind could have thrown at him, and driven away in the Impala. He had woken up covered in black goo at the side of a road outside of some tiny town he didn’t even know the name of, miles and hours away from where they had stopped the apocalypse 2.0.

Dean was gone.

Sam had to get him back.

The two of them had a pact, of course. If one of them died, the other would continue on with his life. No shady deals, no sacrifices, no years wasted away chasing after the barest whisper of hope.

That pact was lie.

Sam had known as much from the moment he had died for the first time. They had sworn it to assure each other that they weren’t too far gone yet, that they could still be functional members of society that weren’t utterly codependent.

During his time at Stanford, Sam had taken a course on children’s psychology. Siblings that grew up with absent parents tended to cling more to each other. The younger they were, the stronger the bond.

The course had been eye-opening and confronted him with more than just one uncomfortable truth. (Sam had never cried out for their father after a nightmare.) As long as Dean was out there, somewhere, Sam could manage.

But now Dean was gone.

Not dead, not possessed, just gone.

The pact was a lie and Sam was alone.

His next course of action was clear, he knew his mission (had done so once already in a fantasy land created by a cowardly angel): find Dean, consequences be damned.

(He heard Lucifer singing, oh, so sweetly, “This is why you were made for me.” He ignored it.)

X

Sam started to research. He had always liked that part of the job the most. Ever since he could think, he’d been absorbing knowledge. It was the most ordinary, white-picket-fence like part of being a Hunter. When he had been younger, Sam used to pretend that he was preparing for a school project instead of trying to figure out what was going to kill his family if he didn’t do his job correctly.

He began collecting books from all kinds of places. All his Leviathan research was already stored on his laptop and about five different hard drives he carried with him at all times. It was hard to find anything online Sam didn’t already know or the Leviathans hadn’t covered up themselves. The lore on purgatory, which Sam had already gone through, was about as vague and contrasting as possible. According to the Catholic church, it didn’t even exist anymore. At the same time, the older the lore, the more accurate and Dante had written a whole adventure about it. Sam should have asked Cas how reliable Dante's account of hell, purgatory, and heaven was. Sam had only been to two of those realms and his memories of both were hazy. What little the monsters had let slip out about purgatory didn’t help him either.

Sam was looking at a puzzle he didn’t know how to solve, where to start searching. Usually, Dean would throw in some random comment now, sparking a new thought process.

But Sam was alone.

(For now.)

He had to keep looking.

X

After he had gotten back from the Cage, Sam had to stop himself whenever he introduced Dean.

“This is my brother-,” he would say and halt. Dean took over then, playing whatever role he had assumed at the moment.

Sam had been too much of a coward to ask Dean if he knew that it took months for Sam to get it under control, until Adam was no longer the first name on his tongue.

“You’re my brother Adam,” Sam had whispered for a century, wrapped tightly in Grace while sheltering his younger brother.

The least damage to the most innocent of us, three of them had decided down there. The Cage did not provide any space for raging battles or accusations, and it was meant for only one of them. There was companionship to be found in equal suffering.

(Even in the darkest place on Earth, Sam hadn’t been on his own.)

Sam had lost one brother for eternity. He wasn’t going to lose another.

X

Sam had almost forgotten that he had a phone until it rang one day. He had been lying half asleep on the small table of the motel room, which still had two queen-sized beds because Sam hadn’t gotten out of the habit of asking for such yet. Last time, it had taken almost two months. Sam didn’t intend to be separated from his brother long enough to get rid of the habit again.

The ringing of the phone startled him awake. In his disorientation, he knocked his mug, half-filled with cold coffee, off the table.

“Shit,” Sam cursed and threw the nearest piece of fabric he could find over it.

He then rushed over to his bag, searching for his phone.

Please, he thought. I need just this one miracle.

Sam didn’t recognize the number on the phone. Memorizing numbers of hotel rooms, license plates, phones, holes in jeans, and bullets had been one of the first things John Winchester had taught Sam.

After Dean had shown Sam how to read such numbers.

“Hello?” Sam answered the phone. His voice was rough – when had he last talked to someone?

“Sam Winchester?”

Sam’s first reaction was to recoil. He wanted to scream, shout, throw something.

He did neither of those things.

“Kevin? Is that you?”

A sob rang from the other end of the line.

“Oh, God. It really is you. I know I memorized your number correctly, but the tablet messed with my head and I just, I need-“

“Kevin, breathe,” Sam ordered. “Where are you?”

“New York,” Kevin stammered. “State, not city. I managed to escape, but Crowley will know soon because I blew up his demons and I don’t know where to go or what to do-“

“I’ll come get you. Go somewhere safe and ward the room like you’re expecting the devil himself to knock and then call me again.”

He sent a quick and silent prayer to Castiel, the only angel worth praying to left these days despite everything, and began to pack his things. Truth be told, Sam hadn’t really thought about Kevin since that day. Crowley had just grabbed him and vanished, and Dean, always Sam’s priority, had been more important.

Dean would be ashamed Sam had let himself get so absorbed in such a single-minded attitude. This hyper-focusing, while it helped fighting one cause, could get you killed just as quickly. A Hunter couldn’t be entrenched. They had to think quickly and be flexible and open to other ideas. For all that Hunters hated deviating from the norm, if you only knew how to salt-n-burn bones, your third ghost would get you.

Within fifteen minutes, Sam was packed. He loaded his belongings into the Impala and drove off into the direction of New York.

X

Sam found Kevin in an overcrowded motel, hiding out in a wardrobe that was covered in so many sigils, it might as well be drenched in ink. Kevin had picked up on quite a lot of knowledge in the short time he had been exposed to the supernatural. Though, maybe, that also had to do with his status as a prophet of the Lord. Perhaps this knowledge was written into his soul.

When Sam opened the door, Kevin was cradling the demon tablet with one hand and a water bottle with the other.

“Hey, Kev-“

Sam didn’t get much further, as Kevin hit him with a glass full of water.

“I’m not a demon, Kevin,” Sam said slowly. He knew better than to scare the younger man now.

“You could have been possessed!” Kevin insisted, bloodshot eyes wide open with a crazed look.

Sam shook his head and pulled the collar of his shirt away from his neck to expose his anti-possession tattoo.

“Not with this. As long as I’ve got this one intact, I’m good.”

Kevin stared at the black ink.

“Is that Hunter standard?” He asked. “And can I get one?”

For the first time in weeks, or so it felt like, Sam managed to twist his face into something resembling a happy expression with the hint of a smile.

“Sure, Kevin. If you’re up for a long drive right now.”

Kevin was tired. It was written all over his face, his posture. He had a haunted look in his eyes, one Sam knew all too well. It was easy to forget that not everyone had been raised in this life like Sam and his brother had. But right now, staring in Kevin's sunken-in face, Sam was reminded of just how much Kevin had had to adapt since he’d woken up as a prophet.

“I need to keep moving,” Kevin insisted, subtly shifting so the tablet was pressing into his body uncomfortably.

“Okay. Then we keep moving.”

Kevin fell asleep in the backseat of the Impala within fifteen minutes, still holding onto the tablet. Once in a while, Sam glanced at Kevin, but he slept peacefully. The past weeks must have been an enormous strain on his body and mind if he rested as well as he did now, with no nightmares haunting him.

(The first few nights after Cas had taken Lucifer from him, Sam had been so out of it as well. He had fallen asleep and just woken up again, not chased by blood, torture, and screams. Nowadays, if he slept, he had night terrors. It almost made him miss Lucifer. Almost.)

Sam wished he could say the same.

X

After a couple days of pretty much non-stop driving, Sam and Kevin arrived in a relatively small town. They got a motel, checked for any signs of demons and promptly warded the room to withstand a minor assault. Then they left the Impala in the parking lot and headed for a diner. Kevin hadn’t eaten properly in days (not that Sam had either, but he also wasn’t recovering from a kidnapping) and needed something nutritious.

“Where are we?” Kevin asked while he was swirling his soup around with his spoon, not eating any of it.

“Nebraska, passed the state lines a couple hours ago.”

Kevin rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I can read road signs, Sam. But you were heading to this city specifically – why?”

“There’s a retired Hunter here, or at least, I hope he’s still here. He owns a tattoo shop.”

Kevin stared at him, not giving Sam the impression that he had made the connection. Then again, he’d been so out of it when Sam had picked him up, he might not even remember.

“You wanted to get an anti-possession tattoo,” Sam elaborated.

“Oooh, yeah.” Kevin looked down on his bowl. “I forgot about that. But why here? Couldn’t we have walked to any shop?”

The answer was yes, they could have, but Sam didn’t want to. Marty McKinnons never really left his state for hunting. Sam had met him when he was on his way to Stanford, seven days separated from Dean. Sam may or may not have had a minor breakdown in the passenger seat of Marty’s car while they drove away from a graveyard.

“I only managed seven fucking days of normal before the crazy came back again. What the hell was I thinking?” Sam had said then.

Marty had let Sam crash on his sofa that night and set his head straight again. He had been managing a shop and a band while hunting. “You don’t have to give it all up, kid,” Marty had said. “Or push it all away. If you see a ghost, take care of it or call someone who can. No need to go searching for cases like your daddy. If your neighborhood’s good, so are you.”

And then he had given Sam breakfast and driven him to the bus station.

“We could,” Sam finally replied. “But I’ve wanted to check out who else is still in the game, and if they know what the demons are up to.”

Kevin mustered Sam a little while longer. “Alright.”

He went back to pretending he was actually going to eat more of his soup and Sam picked at his salad.

X

Marty’s shop was crammed into an alley, an off-shoot of the main road. It was still standing. Sam took that as a good sign. Kevin walked slightly behind Sam, staying as close as he possibly could without full-on taking over Sam’s personal space.

Sam opened the door to the shop and the old bell attached to the doorframe rang. Marty had stolen it out of an abandoned church. Sam couldn’t quite recall what monster church bells warded against, but he could remember in perfect detail Marty’s hilarious tale about its acquisition. It had involved neon pink paint and lucky charms and had sounded like something out of a comedy sketch.

“Welcome to Artemis Tattoo’s, what can I do for you?”

Marty looked a little different than Sam recalled. It shouldn’t surprise him, it had been over a decade. The red-haired man was well into his fifties now, and his hair was graying, giving him a silver-fox look.

“Hey, Marty,” Sam greeted lamely. “It’s me, Sam-“

“Sam Winchester?” Marty interrupted him with wide eyes.

He took off his glasses and rubbed them over his black t-shirt before putting them on again.

“Christo, is that really you, kid?”

Sam shrugged helplessly. “Still me, still kicking.”

Compared to Sam, most people were smaller than him. Marty was the only person Sam knew who was taller than him still. When he marched towards you, it was impossible to not feel intimidated. Nobody would expect a man of Marty’s age and built to be as silent and fast as he was, so when he suddenly rushed towards Sam, Sam was caught off-guard. He didn’t even have a chance to act before Marty pulled him close.

He was hugging him, Sam realized belatedly.

“Holy fucking hell, kid,” Marty cursed. “You’re alive. You wouldn’t believe the shit I heard about you Winchesters in the past years. Where’s your brother?”

Sam tensed and Marty slowly let go of him. Marty had started hunting because his older sister had been killed by a witch, Sam remembered.

Sam didn’t have it as bad as him.

“Dean’s- he’s gone.”

(But he would be back.)

“Hell, kid. I’m sorry-“

“He’s not dead,” Sam insisted. Each time he said it out loud, he managed to stand a little bit straighter. “He’s just lost. I’ll find him. But that’s not what I’m here for. Look, this is Kevin.”

Sam stepped aside to let Marty get a good look at Kevin. Kevin waved timidly and nervously took in Marty’s many tattoos. The older man was covered in them from head to toe. Most of them were for the aesthetic, but quite a lot were there because they helped on the job.

Marty specialized in taking down witches, and while you couldn’t protect yourself from all of their spells, there were quite a lot counter measurements one could ink into their skin.

“Kevin’s a prophet. Crowley’s had him for a while-“

“Crowley?”

Right. Sometimes Sam forgot that not everybody dealt with demons on the daily like him.

“Current King of Hell,” Sam continued. “Kevin managed to escape, but we need to get him some extra security.”

Marty nodded slowly and then grinned, warm and toothily like Sam remembered. It was nice to be looked at in kindness for once instead of hatred and fear like most Hunters did nowadays.

“Anti-possession tattoo, you’re thinking?”

“Yes,” Kevin spoke up for the first time since they had entered the shop. “I don’t want one of those bastards in my head. If they know what I know…”

“Could get bad, I got you. Man, am I glad I don’t deal with those sons of a bitch. And you, Sam? Can I get you anything?”

Sam stuck his hand in his jeans pocket and pulled out a paper sheer that used to be white once upon a time.

“Yes, actually,” Sam said. “There is something I want.”

X

In the years Sam and Dean had been hiding from Heaven and Hell, they had learned more about wards than their father had in his entire life. Most of them had to be powered by blood, freshly spilled. A few of them, like the Enochian sigils Castiel had branded onto their ribs, could be applied and would work without a sacrifice, or one that only needed to be paid once.

Sam had never thought about putting anything other than the anti-possession tattoo on his skin (it was too easy to alter wards, to make them turn on the one using them, to have them drain you, they made you recognizable) but the last years had worn him down.

And if anything ever got close enough to him again to manipulate him (wear his body, wrap his soul in sweet lullabies while they tear into his brother’s flesh-), then perhaps Sam deserved it.

He wasn’t young and weak anymore.

(He had pulled Lucifer apart.)

Sam could afford to wear the wards he wanted.

“Are you sure?” Marty asked, studying the paper Sam had handed him. “This is… I don’t even recognize half of this.”

(Nobody would. Something had been meant for Archangel Grace only, but Sam had been there and he had listened. And he remembered.)

Kevin looked over the paper as well, frowning. When he met Sam’s eyes, he was troubled.

“That’s a lot,” Kevin said, something old lingering in his voice.

Maybe being a prophet didn’t just mean that Kevin could read God’s Word.

“I know,” Sam said. “I want it.”

(I consent.)

X

When they separated from Marty, the man pulled both of them into another heartfelt hug. Kevin looked like he was about to break and Sam’s hug was a little awkward as Marty was mindful not to touch Sam’s back.

“Don’t get into any trouble,” Marty said. “You have my phone number. If there’s anything you need, don’t hesitate to call.”

“Same goes for you, Marty,” Sam replied. “And if anyone wants to get the wards, but has questions about them, they can call me. I can explain.”

Marty smiled warmly and messed up Sam’s long hair. “You’re a good kid. Stay safe.”

X

They drove westward, hitting old libraries and archives, universities and churches. Sam kept learning, kept going. He couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop. He felt a little bit like he was losing his mind.

(Except this was reality.)

Kevin wasn’t any better.

He barely slept. Most of the time, he was staring at the demon tablet, taking notes and trying to make sense of everything written there.

After a month of traveling, Kevin admitted defeat.

“I can’t do this if we keep moving,” he admitted quietly. “I need peace and calm to actually understand what I’m doing here.”

“Okay,” Sam said. He had expected it. “I’ll find a place.”

Some Hunters never traveled far away from their home, others were so lost they drifted until some monster killed them. As much as Sam had detested it, he had been raised on the road. He had studied for his finals lying on the backseat of the Impala. He had gotten a full-ride to Stanford with sticky-notes pinned to the windows.

(Sam wondered what he could have been if he had been able to recover in peace.)

X

Sam left Kevin at an old abandoned church. They set up traps for demons, bought enough non-perishable food to ensure Kevin wouldn’t have to leave the church for a while (until Sam found a better solution) and said their quiet goodbyes.

(“Looks like you’re well and truly on your own.”)

Everybody left.

Sam should be used to it by now.

It didn’t stop him from watching Kevin in the rearview-mirror until the distance ate him up.

X

Dean was gone two months now. Kevin called sometimes, but Sam couldn’t always keep up with his rambles. The Impala was stocked full with books kept in a neat organization system that hadn’t ever made sense to anyone but Dean.

X

Sam hunted a vampire in Colorado.

Then a witch in Utah.

A werewolf in Arizona.

Ghouls, shifters, ghosts, wendigos, rugaru-

And then, blood splattered over his clothes, Sam killed a demon.

Two hunters with twin shocked expressions pointed at Sam, then at the dead body and threw up their arms in defeat, shouting, “You can do that!?”

X

Sam had been avoiding demons to the best of his abilities. He knew they were hunting him and Kevin down, and while at some point he had entertained the thought of using himself as bait to lure them as far away from Kevin as possible, he had settled on trying to stay as far away from them as he could.

Until he couldn’t.

The demon was working on his own and he hadn’t been really all that well-informed or strong. It was easy enough to trap him and get him to break.

Sam hated torture, but not as much as Dean did.

(Because Dean wasn’t just good at it, he was great.)

But he could get a demon to start speaking if he wanted it to. The demon had boasted so proudly about how much he had made the owner of his meatsuit suffer until the soul had died, not knowing that his actions had only made it easier for Sam.

And then, when he had stabbed the knife through the demon’s heart, two college kids broke into the warehouse.

X

They must be siblings, twins maybe even, Sam thought. Both of them had curly dark hair, equally dark skin, and their expressions were too similar for them to not be family.

“You just killed a demon,” the smaller one said. “How do you- what. Just. What?”

Sam’s eyes narrowed.

“Who are you?” He asked.

“Dude, who are you? You just offed a demon!”

They couldn’t be older than twenty-five at most, at best if Sam allowed himself to hope. They knew about demons, so they had to be Hunters. Probably not in the business for long if they didn’t know demons could be killed. That was common knowledge amongst the community, or what was left of it. At least Sam thought it was. He and Dean had never really been close to a lot of Hunters because of their reputation.

“I’m Sam Winchester,” he introduced himself.

The eyes of the pair widened.

Not good.

Sam slowly shifted his body into a more versatile position and counted the exits. He would defend himself, no questions asked, but he didn’t want to hurt anyone. If he could get away from the two without the situation escalating into a fight, everything would be alright.

“Sam Winchester,” the taller twin spoke up. “You’re really Sam Winchester?”

And then something curious happened.

The twins dropped their shoulders in pure relief, hope lighting them up like they still had something to believe in that hadn’t been broken by blood and deals.

Well, that was a first.

“Dude,” the smaller one said. “Thank you so much.”

What.

Sam hadn’t said a word, but his confusion must have shown (damn it, he used to be better at acting, at pretending, at reassuring everyone that he was fine) because the kid immediately began to babble.

“You saved us. Just. Thank you. Just, thank you for everything.”

“You are welcome?”

Sam still didn’t know what they were talking about, but he sincerely hoped that he was right in assuming the two of them meant no harm. They put away their guns, practically vibrating with energy.

“I’m sorry, but have we met before?” Sam asked.

“No,” the taller replied. “I’m Gregory Rosswell and this one here next to me is my brother Frederick. Our parents got snatched by Leviathans a couple months back. We’ve been going after them ever since and everything else that came our way.”

Gregory glanced at the dead demon behind Sam. “Mostly ghosts though. Caught one demon, but he almost blew our brains out. Couldn’t chug enough salt and holy water at him fast enough.”

“Yeah,” Fred agreed. “How did you catch one so easily?”

“Devil’s trap,” Sam said.

“Oh.”

The twins shared a look. “Can you teach us how to draw one?”

X

Gregory and Frederick Rosswell were twenty-years-old (too young, children still, they shouldn’t be here) and had both been home from university when their parents had been replaced by Leviathans. When they had tried to do the same to Frederick, Gregory had cut off their heads with a cutlass from their father’s ancient weapons collection.

Sam refrained from asking whether the cutlass hidden beneath the backseat of the twins’ car was the one Gregory had used. They had a fairly impressive collection of knives and swords, but only two small handguns.

“We don’t need those much since we mostly go after Leviathans,” Gregory explained. “Didn’t even know there was more crazy out there until we ran into our first ghost.”

Gregory said it so casually that Sam didn’t know whether to be impressed or shocked. Leviathans weren’t easy to kill, even depowered as they now were, and Hunters, whose introduction to life was so violent, tended to die sooner than later.

When Sam tried to explain that, the Rosswells only looked at him in disbelief.

“Yeah, man. Back up a second. Vampires are real too?”                           

The twins turned to each other, conveying thoughts in half-smiles, a groan and a tap on the shoulder. Then they decided to invite Sam back into their conversation.

“What else is there?” Gregory asked. “And how do we kill it?”

“You don’t have to do this,” Sam said.

They were twenty, they shouldn’t be hunting when they had their whole lives still ahead of them.

(Sam was twenty-nine, was two-hundred-twenty, centuries, ages, older than his brother would ever be.) 

“We know,” Frederick replied. “But we don’t want to stop. We can’t stop.”

Sam had never met a Hunter who could. (Himself included.)

X

Sam had never actually taught someone how to be a Hunter. Frederick and Gregory got the basics done already and research wasn’t unfamiliar to them. Their father had been a policeman, so they knew how law enforcement worked and could pretend to be a part of it well enough. Sam didn’t feel like he was actually teaching them a lot by giving them a list of America’s Top Twenty Monsters and a How To Kill Them All manual.

If he was honest, he thought the twins did most of the work. For the weeks they stuck with him, they asked countless questions, treating him like a tired college professor.

“How much Holy Water can you bless at once?”

A lot, but no, you can’t just bless the ocean. That’s not how it works.

“Wooden stake for tricksters? Where does that even come from?”

Yes, wooden stake. Works if they’re not angels in disguise.

“Angels are real!?”

Yes, and they all suck. Never let one of them possess you. They may need your consent, but it doesn’t need to be an informed or gentle one. You’ll be out of control and feel like you’ve been strapped to a comet. (Like you’re trapped in the softest dream, surrounded by memories of your siblings when they still loved you and the world was whole and untainted.)

“I know Latin and I’d been learning Greek for my bachelor, but how many languages do you need to know?”

A lot.

“Why do you carry so many books around in your car? Wouldn’t it be easier to get a place to store them in?”

“And organize them properly?” Frederick teased.

Sam looked at the backseat of the car and yes, true enough, he had accumulated a small library.

“Oh, shut up, you two,” Sam muttered, and pointedly ignored that one of the stacks of books had fallen over, making the twins grin like idiots.

When they went their separate ways again, Sam was a little more convinced that he wasn’t sending the two of them off to their deaths. And if they ever met anything they didn’t know, they could call him. It was the least he could do.

X

What Sam hadn’t expected when he handed the Rosswells his number, was how often they would call. Sometimes they asked for help regarding hunts, but more often than not, they just asked about him or talked about whatever kind of crazy had happened to them lately. When Sam had started attending Stanford, he’d had to train himself in the delicate art of small talk. While attending school, he’d never connected much with his peers, too aware that he’d soon move away again, and with Dean around, he hadn’t needed to say a single word more than necessary. Even with all their differences, the choices that had made them grow apart, they got each other.

(Except when they didn’t and the world had to pay for it.)

At Stanford, though, Sam learned that small talk wasn’t just something you took part in to stay busy but to build longer-lasting relationships. The years on the road had made his skill rusty, but the Rosswells were doing their best to bring it back.

Sam didn’t know why telling them what he had for dinner was a good topic choice (but it did make him more conscious of the meals he kept skipping) or why he could listen to Gregory talking for a good fifteen minutes about how difficult it was to eat healthy on the road.

He always accepted their calls, never hit decline, even when they called in the middle of the night (Sam wasn’t sleeping anyway).

Marty called a few times too, his latest call informing Sam of his new partner Caitlyn, a young florist, who had set up her shop just a few meters away from him and put all her bouquets in holy water.

“She’s new to all of this. Vamps got her husband last year – that’s why she moved town.”

Kevin checked in less regularly and to even more random times than the twins. After one more erratic call that almost chased Sam halfway across the country, he asked the twins to go check in on Kevin.

At 3 a.m., his phone rang, and Sam got to stare at a picture of three young men, squatting in a confessional box and watching a movie on a laptop. Kevin was smiling tiredly and Frederick’s new scar was healed enough to be exposed.

They were healthy.

(They were alive.)

Sam could keep going.

X

Month four without Dean started by Sam staring at his phone and the many messages he had received in the few hours he had been asleep. Apparently, his friends had decided to team up and create a group chat.

The last dozen messages were everyone trying to make out what the hell Kevin’s sleep-deprived 4 a.m. message had meant while the prophet in question was probably (hopefully) fast asleep for once.

That’s Enochian, Sam typed mindlessly. It means Protection, but specifically referring to a situation in which demons are trying to possess someone who used to be an angel vessel.

Gregory: What?

Frederick: Hi Sam!!!

Marty: how is that ever a likely situation?

Sam grinned. It can also mean Protecting someone who is Loved by God. Angel vessels are precious to them. Ruining them is a severe offense.

Marty: yeah no goodbye I’m out. 

X

Sam met the Hilllains on a ghost hunt. They had three kids, fifteen, twelve and six years old, who all knew how to handle knives and shoot guns and what to do when your mom fell over because she had a vision. The Hillains usually didn’t leave their state since “Raising kids on the road is just irresponsible”.

Susan Hillain-Waterbury was the descendant of a long line of gifted people and Terrence Hillain was a priest turned Hunter after a run-in with a demon. Most of the time, they hunted on the weekends and brought home fast food as a treat on Sunday afternoons.

Sam stayed with them until Monday evening because Susan insisted on making her world-famous lasagna for him as a thank you.

X

Four months and two weeks into his search and Sam had stopped asking for a room with two beds. When he realized that, he abandoned most of his weapons except the knife and headed for the nearest bar. People made space for him when he walked past them, and he didn’t think it was just because of his height.

The bartender took one look at him and filled a crystal clear glass with something that smelled so strong it burned in Sam’s nose.

“First one’s on the house,” she said.

“Thank you,” Sam muttered and downed the drink in one go.

(“Free booze! Awesome. C’mon, Sammy. Smile at her! See if you can get a second!”)

“Just keep them going, please.”

Alcohol couldn’t properly knock Sam out anymore. He hadn’t tried drugs (strong ones, anyway), but those shouldn’t have much of an effect on him either. He remembered the peaceful embrace of another, the oblivion that came with being lulled into memories of happy times when Father still loved them all.

Sam was tired.

His research was going fucking nowhere and he couldn’t keep everything organized and he was failing Dean yet again. He hadn’t been able to get his brother out of hell and he wouldn’t be able to get him out of purgatory.

What a fucking waste of space he was.

X

When he stumbled out of the bar, he stabbed a man with blonde hair and green eyes right between his ribs, watched as the demon within perished. Wordlessly, he dropped the body in a side-alley where it would be found by morning and a mourning family would have a place to grief at.

What did Sam have left?

(Nothing.)

He put the few belongings he had bothered out pack back in the car and drove off.

X

The next day he hit a dog.

X

Sam wasn’t thinking when he wrapped the dog into his towel and drove to the nearest animal clinic.

“I need help,” Sam exclaimed when he entered the clinic. Admitting more than he wanted to. “The dog needs help.”

“He just came out of nowhere, right in front of my car. We need a doctor. Are you a doctor?”

The animal couldn’t die. Not now, not right in front of Sam because he had made another mistake. It shouldn’t have to pay for Sam’s flaws.

It couldn’t die.

It couldn’t die.

It couldn’t-

X

Sam’s shirt was still drenched in (Dean's) the dog’s blood. The smell didn’t bother him, it was too familiar to him to register on his mind.

When the doctor entered the room, everything was still a blur. Sam tried to keep his breathing under control, stop his hands from shaking and not fall into a panic.

Somehow, it ended with him owning a dog.

X

The motel he was staying at didn’t mind that he was keeping Dog, who still didn’t have a proper name. Sam had always been terrible about naming anything at all. When he was younger and had wanted a pet, Dean had collected the spiders of their motel rooms and named each and every one of them.

The various hero names Dean had slapped on them hadn’t been very creative either, but better than anything Sam had come up with.

The doctor who had done Dog’s surgery assured him that he was recovering well. Amelia Richardson, that was her name, was much kinder to him now that he apparently didn’t classify as a total asshole who hit animals while driving irresponsibly.

She still thought he was creepy and that there was something wrong with him (he was torn to bits and pieces, no amount of tape could fix him), but she stopped with the random accusations. The cash he earned at the motel, fixing a little bit of everything here and there, was enough to help him pay for Dog’s medication.

Sam felt like he was holding his breath and he didn’t know what he was waiting for.

X

Five months after Dean’s disappearance began with another random call. He didn’t recognize the number displayed on the phone screen, nor the voice speaking.

“Is this Sam Winchester?”

Sam evaluated the pros and cons of lying but settled on stating the truth. If it turned out this person meant to harm, Sam knew how to disappear quickly.

“Yes, who’s calling?”

The woman on the line sighed.

“My name’s Penny. I’m a… Hunter?” She trailed off, sounding unsure. Sam thought he heard a second voice ring in the background, saying something like, “That’s what Mackey called us!”

“Okay, jeez. I didn’t ask for your opinion Himari and Chasers sounds way better, it’s like Harry Potter,” Penny muttered. That was probably not meant for Sam’s ears. “Anyway. We already called Mackey – he’s another Hunter – but he couldn’t help us, and the Rosswells said you always help them with their cases so they gave us your number, and people are dying and we don’t know what to do.”

While Sam had gotten accustomed to his new network over time, he hadn’t expected the others to hand out his number. There was a certain risk attached to it but- Never mind. He could help out another Hunter, especially if she 

“Okay,” Sam said. “Yes, sure. Of course, I can help you. What are you hunting?”

“No idea.”

Sam grimaced and put the phone on speaker, another habit stemming from being around Dean 24/7. Whenever Bobby called them to give them a little help, they put the phone on speaker so the other could listen in. Sam didn’t need to do it anymore. He did it anyway.

“What and how does it kill then?”

“It burns the victims,” Penny said. Her voice sounded a little off, she probably hadn’t come across many burned corpses then already. The smell and the sight were always a little nauseating. “But there are also multiple bite marks and poison and the only reason we think it’s only one monster is that all victims have at least two of those signs.”

Sam couldn’t think of a single monster that killed in such a way, but that didn’t mean it didn’t exist. If the whole catastrophe with Eve had shown one thing, then that America’s monsters didn’t care about staying traditional. Much like humans, they had immigrated over the centuries and spread and there was no way to keep track of every country’s varied monster population.

“I’ll go do some research, Penny. Just send me what you have so far per SMS,” Sam replied, already packing his messenger bag. “I’ll call you back as soon as I got something. If a new victim pops up, give me another call.”

Sam hesitated. Penny couldn’t be doing this for long if she was unfamiliar with the term Hunter, right?

“Otherwise, stick to silver, iron, salt, and holy water. Those works on most things.”

Seasoned Hunters would think of such advice as patronizing, as much as they appreciated help on a challenging hunt, they were all fairly arrogant, considering themselves experts.

“Thank you, Mr. Winchester.”

Sam snorted. “Just call me Sam, everyone does.”

He ended the call and halted, just for a moment. Everyone?

(He sure had surrounded himself with more people than he thought he would, than he ever should.)

X

Sam didn’t expect to run into any trouble while researching for Penny until he stood in front of the library, Dog’s leash still in his hand. He couldn’t take a dog into a library, could he? A bit helplessly and lost he stood in front of the library until a young girl took pity on him and told him he could leave Dog on the west side of the library, where they had a small sheltered space for dogs. Sam thanked her and quickly got to work.

He started looking for any incidents happening in the town Penny was in, but couldn’t find any. Then he moved on to ghosts, covering the basics before returning to researching all kinds of monsters. When the American usuals didn’t bring any results, Sam turned to European folklore and myths, where he soon discovered something fitting.

Sam dialed Penny’s number. “Hey, Penny? I think I know what it might be.”

“Really? But- what. That took you barely 3 hours!”

Sam glanced at the time displayed in the corner of his laptop. It really hadn’t taken that long.

“Well, want to hear what I found?”

“Yes, please.”

Sam smiled and scrolled to the top of his word document. “Okay, so, it looks like you’re dealing with a chimera from Greek mythology. It’s a fire-breathing female monster resembling a lion in the forepart, a goat in the middle, and a dragon or snake behind. In the myth, Bellerophon kills it by lodging a block of lead inside the Chimera's throat.”

“How are we supposed to stuff lead inside such a monster?” Penny replied, her voice bordering on hysterics.

“Look,” Sam said. “Myths like to make things more complicated, heroes more heroic and cunning. Most likely, you’ll be fine by using weapons made out of lead.”

“You sure?”

“As sure as you can be with those things.”

Penny took a deep breath, probably to calm herself. Sam waited until she was done to speak up again. “Do you need back up?”

“No,” Penny said. “Himari called Mackey again to tell him I called you – he says hi by the way? You called him after Bobby’s death apparently…?”

Oh, that Mackey. He was one of Bobby’s contacts. Sam had rung them all up to tell them about Bobby’s death. Not all of them were glad to hear of him, but a surprisingly high amount was.

“Yeah, I know Mackey. He’s a good guy.”

“Yeah, Himari worked with him before. Anyway, he’s driving our way to help out. I guess I’ll call when it was a success?”

“You do that. Much success and don’t forget to aim for the head.”

Penny laughed, still a little nervous but at least not as much as before. “Thanks for the help again, Sam.”

X

A week later, Sam got a call from Mackey, asking if he had any use for chimera blood.

“Always split the spoils with Bobby,” Mackey said. “I swear, Bobby had everything stored down there in his basement.”

“He did,” Sam agreed. He remembered spending two months at Bobby's by himself while John was out like always and Dean was gone. Sam had done a lot of research during that time, not all of it necessarily child-friendly despite Bobby’s attempts to keep him away from it. He’d spend at least one weekend labeling all the weird monster parts Bobby had been keeping on old shelves.

“Thanks for the call, Mackey, but I don’t have the space for that.”

Sam’s eyes drifted to the books and weapons already taking up most of the space in the Impala and some more.

“Too bad, I don’t have any either. You know any Hunter shops?”

“I…” Sam’s thoughts drifted back to Marty or rather Caitlyn. She didn’t hunt as much as the rest of them, only really when Marty asked her to be his back up. But she did start to collect more unusual ingredients, even if most of them were plant related.

“Actually, yes. How far are you from Nebraska? I know a good place there.” 

X

Sam began to run into Amelia everywhere or so it felt. She was funny and kind, and she understood what it was like to lose something so dear to you, you forgot how to breathe.

“So, Sam, I was thinking: Do you want to go out on Friday? A proper restaurant, I mean. Not another motel room talk.”

“I like our-“

Sam’s phone rang. Frederick was calling him. Last Sam had heard, the twins were a couple hours away from him. “Hold up. Hey Fred, everything alright?”

“Sam!”

Frederick’s panic immediately put Sam on edge. “Fred, what’s going on?”

“Can you come drive up? Gregory and I stumbled upon a werewolf pack and they’re hunting kids for sport and I think they’re onto us and I know there are four at least and we have no idea what to do. Just. Please. I know you’re busy searching for Dean, but we’re at our wit's end.”

Sam looked at Amelia. She was smiling softly still, much happier than the first time he’d met her. Riot, the finally renamed Dog, was lying next to her and wagging his tail.

“Sam?”

People were relying on Sam.

“I’ll be there as soon as possible, give me your coordinates.”

Dean’s cursing about dog fur on the Impala’s leather chased Sam over the highways. He broke the speed limit on most roads, haunted by images of two death he could prevent if he was just in time. Riot looked out of the window, peaceful and healthy. All of Sam’s belongings were crammed into the trunk and on the backseat. A whole life and five months.

X

Sam made it just in time. The werewolves had indeed caught up to the twins and jumped their motel room. When Sam emptied a whole load of silver bullets into the werewolves, Frederick was only wearing sweat pants and using a towel to cover up his chest, holding onto his unconscious brother whose head was bleeding.

The werewolves dropped to the ground, dead. Frederick, blood splattered over his face, didn’t let go of his silver knife or Gregory.

Sam didn’t bother checking whether the werewolves were really dead, they had taken a bullet to their heads and wouldn’t return from that (unless heaven or hell took mercy on them and neither were kind to anyone but themselves).

“Frederick,” Sam said. “You need to get up.”

Frederick didn’t move. The motel was pretty empty, but someone was bound to have heard the attack, the fight or the murder, and they would come looking. They couldn’t afford to lose time now.

“Fred, get up,” Sam ordered. He held out his hand and when Frederick, shaken up, lifted his, Sam quickly took the knife out of it and threw it in the small suitcase on the bed. “Get dressed, I’ll take care of Greg.”

Frederick seemed to be moving in slow motion, but he was finally returning to the action. Sam pulled the pillowcase off one of the pillows lying on the bed and used it to stop Gregory’s bleeding. He probably only had a concussion.

Then Sam picked Gregory up as carefully as he could and carried the man to the Impala. Riot looked up in interest when Sam laid Gregory on the backseat.

“Keep watch,” Sam told him and returned to the Rosswells’ room to help Frederick finish.

When he arrived, Frederick was as good as dressed and gathering everything of importance. Sam picked up two bags and threw one last look at the corpses on the ground. They had no time to get rid of the bodies, they would have to stay.

Frederick sits down next to Gregory and pulls his brother’s head in his lap.

“I’m sorry,” Frederick murmured. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, …”

The mantra followed them down the road until they were three cities further and utterly safe from being accused of any of the crimes they had committed.

X

“Do you have a safe place to stay somewhere?” Sam asked.

They were near Kansas now and could easily swing up to Nebraska. Neither Caitlyn nor Marty had enough space for the two hunters, but it would do long enough for Gregory to heal until the twins could hit the road again.

If they still wanted to after this encounter.

Sam had been injured so often in the past years, he hardly even blinked at a concussion anymore, he and Dean just kept on driving.

“We’ve got a house,” Frederick replied. “I don’t know what shape it’s in, but we were meaning to go check it out anyway.”

“Alright. Directions?”

X

Frederick led Sam to an abandoned house that was a good twenty-minute drive into the woods in the north of Kansas. It looked fairly old and was surprisingly big and in a good shape.

The entire façade of the building had been painted in a soft green. The color was starting to peel off in some places, but it was mostly intact.

“What is this place?” Sam asked after they had carried Gregory inside and let him continue resting on a sofa in the living room.

There was something off about this place that Sam couldn’t quite pinpoint, but it put him on edge. He felt like somebody was watching him, waiting for him to make a mistake. He began mustering the painted walls. Elaborate landscape paintings of a forest covered the living room. The longer he looked at it, the more did he think he was seeing familiar symbols.

“It’s our great-grandmother Agatha’s house,” Frederick said. “Never met her. According to our grandmother, she was a wicked witch who should have never been allowed to have a child. As soon as Grandmother was sixteen, she left and married a nice man and had a completely normal daughter who then had us. Agatha died back in 2009 shortly before you stopped the apocalypse that almost happened and she left everything to our mother. Mom wanted to sell the house, but no deal could be made. People had unfortunate accidents as soon as they stepped into the house.”

Sam stepped closer to the entrance door, tracing over carvings in the wood. “What?”

Frederick grimaced. “That’s why we were heading here. We wanted to check it out. We thought a ghost might be haunting the building.”

“Yeah, I’m not so sure about that,” Sam muttered.

“No?”

“These symbols spread all over the room, they’re runes. I’m pretty sure they’re wards. Any chance your great grandmother worshipped pagan gods?”

“I don’t know. But she got super old and she was from Norway.”

Sam sighed. “Alright. Let’s track down which god is protecting this house and get them a proper offering before they kill us.”

X

In the end, it was quite easy to figure out which god Agatha had worshipped. Sam found her altar in the eastern kitchen window, the first to see the sun in the morning. Old, half-burned candles with a sugary sweet smell stood around a handmade clay flower pot filled with small pink flowers that appeared to be blooming although nobody was taking care of them. And right next to the flower pot stood a bowl filled with sweets.

The irony of this situation wasn’t lost on Sam.

“It’s Loki,” Sam said when he returned to the living room. “Your great grandmother was a follower of Loki.”

“That was the trickster angel, right?” Frederick asked. “The one who died? Shouldn’t this house be clean of his influence then?”

Sam shook his heads. “You can never really kill a pagan god. More than any other beings, they cling to faith. As long as someone believes in them, they exist. Gabriel might be dead, but the idea of Loki is still around.”

(He wondered what that meant for angels. They did die, expect when God or whatever interfered. Castiel had died and come back. So why did God let one of his oldest angels die?)

“Anyway, I’ll get a package of chewing gum from the car. Not his favorite, but it’s sweet and an offering.”

“You’re not going to destroy the altar?”

Frederick’s expression was neutral. He wasn’t judging Sam or implying anything. He only wanted to know why Sam wasn’t getting rid of the threat.

And honestly? Sam didn’t know why. The thought hadn’t even occurred to him.

“This place has pretty strong wards,” Sam said. It was true, they must have been powered by Loki. If Agatha’s life force had also been included in that, it was no wonder she had died when Gabriel did. If the twins took up residency here, offering their blood and redrawing some of the ownership-tied wards, they had a pretty protected place to stay at. It shouldn’t cost them more than a couple sweets every now and then and some new candles. “There’s a bigger advantage to keeping it.”

X

The twins got settled and Sam spent a couple hours exploring the house. The wards Agatha had set up were truly impressive, even more so after they had made the offering. The house itself was a pretty nice place too. Sure, it needed some fixing and a new paint job, but the amount of knowledge stored in the crammed library in what must have been Agatha’s study was astonishing. Sam would definitely take a closer look once he had the time. Since they had no food or drink, Sam went back to the car to head to the nearest grocery store and buy some supplies.

X

After about two days, Gregory was already up and running again - or walking. Every time Frederick even just suggested Gregory take it slow or, God forbid, brought him food to his bed, Gregory looked slightly more murderous. His injuries weren’t as bad as they had seemed, but it had scared Fred regardless. It reminded Sam a little of his childhood when he’d been deemed old enough to give first-aid but too young to hunt still and Dean or Dad had come back already half out of it and Sam had to stitch them back together. They’d always looked as if they’d come straight out of a horror movie, but nothing vital had been hurt (well, except maybe once or twice.)

Sam and Fred had cleaned up what appeared to have been a guest bedroom and settled Gregory there. To avoid going stir-crazy, they’d cleaned up the other rooms afterward. The house had electricity and warm running water and Sam was sure those had only shown up after Sam had added a lot of treats to Loki’s altar.

He might have gone a little overboard, but Sam owed the guy. He’d died for them, the whole world, when he could have certainly taken up a golden throne right next to Lucifer. As twisted as Lucifer was, killing Gabriel had hurt him and that showed how much he would have loved to have his favorite sibling by his side.

And Gabriel has said “no”.

Frederick had only glanced questioning at the mountain of candy, porn magazines, crossword puzzles, honey, and candles, but Gregory was the one to actually ask about them.

“I thought altars were all blood, dark magic and-“ Gregory moved his hands through the air in the bad imitation of a TV witch. “You know?”

“Blood is for worshippers and, in this case, the owner of the house. The stuff I brought is just a guest gift.”

Maybe not just merely a guest gift, but also a little bribery to protect the three of them as they resided here.

“So whoever offers blood owns the house?” Gregory inquired.

Sam shrugged. “Basically.”

“And non-basically?”

Right, Sam had forgotten he was talking to an ex-history student. Without further prompting, he latched into a lecture on Pagan gods, worship, and ownership rules, only halting once to give Frederick a chance to get settled comfortably when he joined them.

X

Caitlyn: Fred & George are okay?

Gregory: It’s Greg

Frederick: Don’t ruin my fun, bro

Gregory: Of all the names you could have picked, why did it have to be Frederick again?

Sam: @Caitlyn They are getting better

Caitlyn: Sweet. We got a couple Hunters here asking how to get phoenix feathers. Anybody got some ideas? And can I give them your number? @Sam

Sam: Sure, tell them to give me a ring and I’ll see what I can do

X

Frederick and Gregory were up to something. Sam didn’t just guess so, he saw the incriminating looks they shared. Sam had been in and out of their house for a month now. He’d spent two weeks there going through the books their great-grandmother had possessed, but unfortunately, those didn’t provide much information on purgatory either.

Another dead end.

After that, Sam threw himself into helping other hunters. His number of acquaintances had grown exponentially the more the word spread that one Winchester was still alive and kicking and willing to just hand over everything he knew (while the other was gone, never dead. All of them thought it, Sam knew, but they didn’t dare say it around him.).

Hunters were guarded people, they wouldn't survive otherwise. Even information was just shared sparingly, so of course, they all jumped on the opportunity. It was strange to be confronted with Hunters who worked very specialized or were just at the beginning of their careers, as far as you could call killing monsters a job.

Of course, the older ones didn’t exactly trust Sam (he did have a history filled with a lot of dangerous bullshit such as letting Lucifer out of the Cage), but he was America’s expert on everything angelic and demonic.

Even if he didn’t really feel like it. There was so much to know about heaven and hell, Sam’s active knowledge barely scratched the surface and he didn’t dare try to reach for the memories he had buried.

(The Cage hadn’t been all bad, but trauma didn’t let you pick how you’d react to any memory at all.)

But compared to everyone else, that was still more so he taught how to exorcise demons and kill angels and hoped it was enough.

X

“So,” Gregory said one morning. “I’m all healed up and Himari called, asking for backup, so we think it’s time to leave again.”

Sam nodded and closed his book. “Time to move on then.”

“Yeah, about that…” Gregory trailed off and turned to his brother.

Frederick pushed himself away from the wall and began walking up and down.

“Look, Sam. We don’t really have use for this place. And you’ve got Riot.”

“A car’s not a home,” Gregory added. He bent down to pet the dog, who definitely enjoyed his stay at the house more than the endless hours on the road.

Frederick pointed at his brother. “Right? And a dog needs a home and you need a space for the library in your car.”

Sam frowned, realization only dawning slowly upon him. “You can’t-“

Gregory held up has hands. “We can. Look, we still got our parents’ house and all these wards and stuff? That’s your niche. We like hunting stuff that doesn’t require enchantments and we can’t even read half of the words painted on the ceiling.”

“You can learn,” Sam insisted. “This house belonged to your great-grandmother.”

Legacy was important to Hunters. All the lives saved, the knowledge passed on – many Hunters didn’t have any blood relatives left, so their hunting partners were the ones who carried their memories.

But Frederick and Gregory didn’t know that and Sam struggled to find the right words.

Frederick shrugged. “We never even met her, Sam. This house might as well belong to a stranger. We’ll, of course, come visit and crash here whenever, but otherwise? You need a place to search for your brother. Take it.”

X

It took another week for them to wear Sam down, and even then they wouldn’t leave until Sam had gone to the nearest supermarket and returned with new offerings for their pagan god and finally bled over the altar.

Frederick had looked smug the whole time while Gregory sent Sam’s new address to their mutual friends and acquaintances.

It didn’t even take a week for the first person to show up at his doorstep.

X

Sam had always liked doing things with his hands, repairing broken items, stitching up shirts. A lot of handiwork had come out of necessity, but there was also something soothing attached to it all. Over the course of the next weeks, Sam drove to the construction market about every day until the cashiers there greeted him by name.

He bought paint and tools and wood and started to repair the house where it was damaged and touch it up where it just didn’t look all right.

He added his books to the library/study and organized the artifacts Agatha had left lying around pretty much everywhere. The room that once must have belonged to the twins’ grandmother was turned into a guest room with two beds, as was another storage room, a corner of the basement, and the attic.

When Sam was finally satisfied, too much time had passed already, but Kevin Tran, while tired and exhausted, was not bitter and welcomed the change of scenery.

X

Fact was, a lot of Hunters distrusted Sam Winchester. He had a reputation that made them uneasy and the stories haunting him made him out to be much less human than he ought to be. Those Hunters relied on Garth to collect info for them, give them back up and so on. They pointed the new Hunters they found in his direction and Garth-

Well, Garth gave them Sam’s number.

Old school Hunters relied on old and proven methods, they would not suddenly think of recording exorcisms on their phones or starting a Supernatural Wikipedia. These New Age Hunters, as they liked to scoff, didn’t know how much the world had changed.

And they were right in that assessment.

When your first hunt involved leviathans and demons, angels stealing people who returned as mere shells, then you didn’t miss the times when the world was straightforward and didn’t include more than ten types of monsters.

X

“Hello, Agent Mercury? One of your field agents is claiming our body here is part of an FBI investigation-“

“The heads, Sam! It only leaves the heads!”

“-and the Park Rangers really-“

“So like, they steal from blood banks, but otherwise they’re vegan?”

“The military must be really desperate if they try to recruit people off the police.”

“Hypothetically, if a werewolf and a vampire had a kid together-“

“Winchester! Holy Christ, you won’t believe-“

“It’s Kevin,” the prophet interrupted Penny. “Sam’s making dinner.”

Silence. Kevin had to stop himself from laughing out loud.

“Oh. Hi, Kevin! How’s it going?”

“Good, but it’s been busy. How can Agatha’s help you today? Need some spells to get rid of a wicked witch or brain for your local zombie population?”

“Zombies…?” Penny trailed off, sounding unsure. Kevin imagined her shaking her head. “You know what? I don’t want to know. Do you guys know anything about a spell or a monster going after the blood of two drained lambs, the liver of a lion, and the eyes of a monkey? We got a bizarre case here in a zoo.”

Kevin glanced at the clock. He wasn’t going to work on the tablet anymore today and if he could help it, Sam wouldn’t shut himself away in his study/purgatory lore cave.

“Yeah, we can do some research. We’ll ring as soon as we got something.”

X

Soon after word had gotten out that Sam had settled somewhere, Mackey showed up at his doorstep, only Himari in tow. Penny, her better half in Himari’s own words, was apparently visiting family up north.

Sam didn’t buy the lie, but he saw no point in questioning her.

“Oh, man, Sam. I love what you’ve done with the place. It’s like Roadhouse and Bobby’s in one,” Mackey said.

Sam smiled and looked around. It really was starting to look like a proper place for hunters to crash at. “Not enough books and dirt for Bobby’s yet.”

Marty laughed and knocked his beer against Sam’s. “True enough. I swear the cleanest I ever saw Bobby’s was when your Daddy had dropped you off at his place again.”

Sam rolled his eyes, but still managed to smile softly. “That’s only ‘cause Bobby made me and- made us clean to keep us busy and away from the books depicting torture.”

“Oh, yeah. That sounds like Bobby!”

Himari, who up until then had only been nursing her tea silently, spoke up for the first time since she had stepped into Sam’s house. “What is the Roadhouse and Bobby’s?”

Mackey's cheerful expression fell and Sam too, who had been making all kinds of calls over the past weeks and should be used to it by now damn it, couldn’t stop his throat from closing up.

“That was before your time, kid,” Mackey replied. “The Roadhouse was the Hunter equivalent to a community center – a place to recover after or before a hunt. I swear, nobody ever managed to talk me out of a hunt before without even saying a word but Ellen. And Bobby was the meanest son of a bitch you could ever meet. You vaguely describe him your latest crazy, and he’d call you back within a day to tell you what the hell you’re facing and how to kill it. Also our go-to man if the authorities came calling. Without the two of them, the community’s shot to hell. Garth’s been picking up some slack, but he ain’t got time to teach anyone… That reminds me.”

Mackey picked his backpack up from the ground and rummaged through it until he found what he was looking for – a dirty sheet of paper apparently – and held it up victoriously.

“Here,” he said and gave it to Sam. “I got into contact with a couple Old Timers. Not sure if they’re on your contact list already, but they offered to help out with the huge influx of newbies so you’re not stuck handling all their questions.”

Sam scanned the list. A few names stuck out to him, but others he was only vaguely aware of or didn’t know at all.

“Thanks, Marty. I’ll give them a ring.”

X

When the Hillains asked for Sam’s help, he expected a little more “Could you be our back-up?” and less “Can we leave the kids with you for the week?” but Sam agreed anyway.

It was certainly an experience to have three kids running around for a week, but not one he minded. He had babysat couple times as a teenager to earn some extra cash, and the experience was familiar enough.

Besides, all three of them loved Riot and the dog was more than just happy about the extra attention.

X

Irv Franklin liked to think he was as good a man as a Hunter could be. Of course, he didn’t have utter faith in Sam Winchester, everybody knew the Winchesters messed around with Heaven and Hell and a whole lot of other things that shouldn’t be touched, but the kid was also Bobby’s kid.

And, really, everybody who actually cared about Bobby knew those two Winchester brats had been his whole world.

Tracy hadn’t wanted to come to Winchester’s place – called Agatha’s for some unfathomable reason – and Irv couldn’t blame her. He had told her she could stay in the motel, but she had decided to meet the man the demons had killed her family for.

From the outside, the house looked comfortable, not as militant as Irv had expected. Sam was kneeling on the porch, painting something on the windowsill. As soon as he spotted Irv and Tracy, he stood up.

“Irv! Good to see you.”

“Right back at you, Winchester,” Irv said and followed Sam inside.

The kid led Irv and Tracy into the kitchen and took a couple beers out of the fridge. “We only got beer and water right now,” he said apologetically.

Irv wondered who exactly we were, but didn’t ask. He had heard rumors about prophets, and everybody who went after demons knew that hell had been in an uproar lately. Sometimes it was better if you didn’t know anything.

“I did look into the killings you described,” Sam continued. “Couldn’t find anything directly, but the books in the living room contain everything I’ve got on ritualistic murders. Feel free to look through them, just don’t run off with them. One of the upstairs’ rooms is already occupied, but you can sleep downstairs in the basement if you want.”

Irv reached for one of the beers on the kitchen table. “Thanks, kid.”

They left two days later.

“He’s not really what I expected,” Tracy admitted carefully.

Maybe she could start to heal properly now.

Irv grimaced. “Winchesters rarely are.”

X

Sam’s study was a bit of a mess. Papers covered half the floor and whole books the other. Kevin kind of wanted to sigh in frustration, but that wouldn’t help anyone. Instead, he sat down on the ground next to Sam.

“Is everything alright?” Kevin asked, already knowing the answer.

Sam laughed bitterly, his ink-stained hands still brushing through Riot’s fur. “No, nothing’s alright. Just look at me, Kev, what am I doing? It’s been almost a year, and I still haven’t found a way to save him.”

Sam didn’t need to say out loud who he was talking about, it was as clear as day.

“I have only been wasting my time trying to- to-“

“Keep over two dozen hunters alive, researching about fifteen different things at the same time with more dedication than I ever put into my term papers despite my mom?” Kevin said drily. “Give yourself a break, Sam. You’re already doing more than humanly possible.”

“But it’s not enough!”

Sam’s outburst was not unexpected but that didn’t make it any more pleasant.

Kevin was used to it, though.

They kept themselves together well enough around others, but some things needed more than the duct tape they stuck onto their wounds.

“I want to visit my mom,” Kevin said into their silence. “I haven’t left the house in months and I think it’ll be safe enough. Just a quick trip. One last time.”

“Alright,” Sam agreed quietly.

Maybe this was healing. (Maybe it was giving up.)

X

Sam would never know.

Lazarus rose once more.

(Rinse. Rise. Repeat.)

[samuelkwinchester]

14.11 - Sister!Winchester

Warnings: Language, Gore (kind of?), Mentions of rape, Unwanted touching (isn’t super detailed and doesn’t get very far, but please avoid if easily triggered).

Summary: Hope Winchester is Sam and Dean’s little sister from a different mom. This takes place during the events of season 14 episode 11, “Damaged Goods,” when Dean visits his mother and Nick is searching for her so that he can get revenge. Unfortunately, Hope gets caught in the crossfire between Nick and his obsession to find who killed his family

(I know that the picture is not from the episode, but bear with me. Also, it is not mine)

Enjoy :)

“Sam, I’m worried about Dean…” I whispered into the phone.

“What’s wrong, Hope?” Sammy asked, his breath hitching in his throat.

“Dean is getting real close with Mar- mom. Plus he’s been in the shed for almost an hour now. There’s a lot of noise going on. I think it’s a blowtorch and maybe some sort of power saw? I don’t know. Either way, he had a lot of books with him. And that’s really not like him. You know that, Sam. He’s just not himself. I mean, I know with Michael being stuck in his head and all, but really thi-”

“Hope. Breathe.” Sam commanded through the phone. “It’s gonna be okay. I’ll be over in maybe four hours, give or take. Stay there, stay alert, and stay safe. You have your phone, so call me if you need me. I’ll be there soon, okay?”

“O-okay.” I said shallowly. The phone went dead.

I got up from my curled up position on my bed. The sun had gone down, and the room was no longer visible. I shivered, remembering what dad had said about the dark. My feet touched the cold, bedroom floor. I carefully guided myself toward the lightswitch, finding the panel, and switching it on. 

The floor was pristine, obviously hadn’t been walked on in at least a few months. I looked in the mirror next to the doorway. There I stood, dressed in a simple pair of light denim ripped jeans (which Sam and Dean gave me a lot of crap for), a black short-sleeved undershirt, and a red and black flannel. My socks were black, warm, and fuzzy. Dean got them for me around Halloween, when the weather started to get cold. 

I quickly looked away from the mirror, and walked into the hallway, down the wood stairs. I walked into the kitchen, smelling something greasy and… familiar?

“Hope!” Dean smiled at me from the kitchen. “You hungry? Mom and I were making and old favorite- Winchester Surprise!”

I forced a smile on my face. “Of course! Let me go wash up real quick and I’ll join you guys.” Excusing myself to the restroom, I locked the door and leaned against it, doing the one thing I haven’t done in over a year.

“Castiel? If you are hearing this, I need you to stay where you are. I just wanted to tell you that I’m with Dean and Mary. Dean doesn’t seem to be doing well. He’s not like himself. I just wanted to tell you so that you could keep Jack posted. He deserves to know as much as I do, especially with everything going on right now. I’ll keep you up to date.”

//

“Jeez, Dean. I can’t believe you remember how I used to feed you and John this dish. It’s so… greasy.” Mary smiled, reliving old memories that I obviously wasn’t apart of.

“How could I forget? I love this stuff.” Dean smiled, stuffing his face with this interesting concoction. Meanwhile, I just picked at my food.

“Honey, what’s wrong?” Mar- mom asked.

“I’m just… Not feeling well. I think I might take a walk. Some fresh air might help.” I said, slowly getting up from the dinner table. Before I could get far, Dean grabbed my hand.

“Don’t forget your gun. I’m not letting you step out of my sight without it, okay? Especially out there.” Dean’s eyes glazed over, and I knew that something was eating him up.

“O-okay. Love you, D.” I said before grabbing my gun from the buffet table. Putting the gun in my waistband, I slipped my boots on and walked out the door.

The woods were somewhat of a sanctuary- especially where I’m from. I was raised in Seattle before Sam and Dean found me. Dad was on a case there and met my mom. I was conceived the night they met. Then Dad up and left, but came around for the few birthdays I had (before he died) and the occasional Christmas or Halloween (again, very few). I wasn’t completely special to him, but I was his child. And there was still love given to me from him.

He’d tell me about my brothers before I had even met them. He said that Sammy was a genius going to college so that he could do something with his life besides ‘the family business’- which was what he would call it back then. Dean was described as the legacy of the family, the one who would continue the business.

I hadn’t met them before John died.

Sam and Dean had barged into my house the night my mom died. I was five years old when the demon was killed. That’s when I started touring with the Winchester duo, and I contributed as the final part to the trio. I went through it all with them but stayed with Bobby a lot. When Mary came into the picture, I didn’t know how to react. She wasn’t my mom, but I was Sam and Dean's sister. She accepted me as her own early on, and I love her for it, but I’m still adjusting.

As I walked away from the cabin, I noticed headlights in the distance. I had a bad feeling about it, but I walked away. I knew I would regret it, but I didn’t just how much. 

Continuing into the woods, I thought about Dean. What was he doing in the barn? Building something maybe? Or was he just releasing some pent up feelings? Either way, something was up, and I knew there was something he was keeping from me. I know he was possessed by apocalypse Michael, but he knows that at one point I was possessed by Michael from this world. I may not have been possessed for long, but it was still hell. I can remember that much. Especially because Michael only talked about wanting to use my brothers so that he could kill his own. He messed with my head too, and Dean doesn’t realize it. I want him to know I’m here. I need him to know I’m here. He shouldn’t go through this alone. He didn’t let me go through it alone.

I heard sirens coming from the dirt road, which made me feel a little safer but also a little more on edge. I didn’t think there was anything obviously wrong, so it was a shock to know the van was being looked for.

 I quickly returned to the road, the cabin nowhere in sight, and turned to see Donna and… Nick? They were fighting, and for a moment it looked like Donna had the upper hand. Then Nick pulled the taser out from nowhere and tazed Donna. I froze, not knowing what to do. I could yell, but that would bring attention to myself. I watched as Nick effortlessly lifted Donna, and put her in the cop car. As he finished up, he turned around and locked eyes on my distant figure.

My blood ran cold- and not because it was near 40 degrees.

I had heard about a killer roaming around the Pike Creek area in Delaware, but I didn’t put two and two together. I should have known- I should have said something.

Nick started to walk towards me, and my body kicked into fight or flight mode.

I started with a jogging pace, getting away from Nick. I started to sprint as I heard a clicking noise. While trying to run in a zig-zag pattern I heard a ‘boom’ and then pain spread throughout my hip. I cried out, the pain was sudden and unforgiving. As I fell, I could feel the blood staining my clothes and my waist. My left hand moved to the wound so I could attempt to stop some bleeding. Everything was in slow motion. I hit the ground with a hard ‘thud’, my head spinning. The pain was almost unbearable, but I’ve had worse. I heard running footsteps and I knew he was coming for me. I took my hand off of the wound and pushed myself back up. I suppressed a groan as I put pressure on my leg, which traveled to my hip. I started to run towards the cabin, praying that I could make it before I either bled out or Nick caught me. 

I could see lights, indicating I was close to Dean. Maybe not as close as I’d like, but it was something. Hope filled my veins and pushed me forward. I was so close to being home, so close to having the upper hand in this fight, so close to telling Dean that it was going to be okay. That I was going to be there for him.

Until I wasn’t close anymore.

Hands traveled to my hips, grabbing hard and intentionally pressing against my damaged hip. I choked out a quiet sob. I was caught, and I couldn’t see the light in this situation anymore. I wasn’t just scared- I was terrified. Nowhere left to go.

Game over.

“Where do you think you’re going, princess?” Nick sneered into my ear, obviously rubbing his victory into my face.

“Fuck. You.” I growled. I began to get defensive. I knew that he didn’t need me for anything, but he didn’t want his cover blown either. The worst outcome was that I’d be killed right now, leaving Dean with Michael and without Mary. I’m praying that he doesn’t go down that road.

“Feisty, huh? We can fix that real quick,” Nick pushed harder onto the bullet hole decorating my hip. I hissed at him. “Okay. That didn’t work… I could try something else. Something I remembered from when I was shacked up with Lucifer…”

Okay, I was wrong. Being killed wasn’t the worst scenario.

Nick ran his other hand, the one not putting pressure on my hip, down to my thing and squeezed just slightly. He started to move up, and he pressed up against me. He stopped right before he reached a place I definitely didn’t want him to touch.

“We have two options, Little Winchester. Either you give up, or I bring up some repressed memories. Some that haven’t seen the light of day since they were scarred into your pretty little head. But hey, it’s your choice.” Nick taunted.

My mind was racing a million miles per second. I felt dizzy and nauseous. I actually thought about throwing up on his shoes, but I don’t think I could aim for them. But in all seriousness, my mind was at war with itself. I didn’t want to just give up and be submissive, but I couldn’t risk being killed, or worse.

“Alright. I’ll behave. But you have to promise me something.” I said with the strongest voice I could come up with.

“And… What would that be, Hope?” Nick grinned against my ear.

“Keep Dean and Mary alive. They don’t need to be killed.” I was practically begging and he knew it.

“Okay. We have a deal.” He smiled as he took his hand off my thigh. 

I let out a sigh of relief, before suddenly being spun around and lifted over his shoulder. He turned and walked towards the van. The back door of the van was opened and I was shoved inside. I held in a cry as I somehow landed on my hip (just my luck). Next thing I knew the van doors were slammed shut, and my vision was fading fast. My last thoughts were dedicated to my brothers, praying that they’d find me or move on if they didn’t, before I blacked out entirely.

//

*2nd POV*

“-Dean, he’s going after your mom,” Donna sighed into the phone.

“He who?” Dean asked, feeling very confused yet on guard.

“Uh, some guy named Nick.” Donna finally spit out, and Dean acted immediately.

Dean ran outside after hanging up with Donna, gun in hand. He was going to find that bastard before he found Mary. He walked out of the bushes and onto the dirt road, taking a faster pace. Sticks were broken behind him, and in less than a second his gun was cocked and pointed to whoever was behind him.

“Dean! Woah, easy!” Sam yelled, clearly not wanting to get shot by his brother. “Dean, what’s going on here?”

“It’s Mom,” he rasped. “She’s gone.”

//

Mary awoke in the van, her head pounding. Her head was resting on something… soft? She slowly opened her eyes to see the ceiling of the van. She pushed herself up and turned to see Hope laying on the floor, bleeding at a steady pace.

“Oh god!” Mary yelled. “Help!”

She scanned the back for anything that could stop the bleeding. She found an old cloth and some alcohol. Perfect. After she shredded the cloth, she poured alcohol onto it and tied it tight around Hope's waist, making sure that it was covering and putting pressure on the wound. Hope shot up, eyes wide open, and fear evident in her eyes.

//

*1st POV*

I shot up, my eyes wide open, and my heart beating out of my chest. I took in a shaky breath and saw Mary leaning over me.

“Oh, thank god.” She said, tears rolling down her face.

“Hey, Mary.” I croaked out. Smiling, she helped me sit up against her.

The back door swung open, and Nick was standing there with a smirk on his face. I’m not entirely sure why he needed Mary, but I could tell that whatever the reason, it wasn’t good.

“Morning, Ladies!” Nick sang, before hopping into the back with us. Mary pushed me to the far corner, trying to get me as far away from Nick as possible. “Oh, come on, Mary! I wasn’t going to do anything… yet…” He smiled viciously.

“Alright, what do you want?” Mary asked, clearly not happy with the situation she was in.

“You know… The demons, they know where you are,” Nick said, taking a seat across from me. “They keep track of you, you and your kids. They’re sort of scared of you. So wherever you are, they’re not. So that’s how I got to Hibbing. I didn’t have an address. Luckily, that- that perky little sheriff lady- what’s her name? Deborah? Debbie? Something? Whatever. She had some emails on her cellphone talking about you and her family cabin, so here I am.” Mary just glared at him while he rambled.

“I know that’s a lot to take in, but… And if you feel like screaming, you can- you can go ahead cause we’re pretty remote…”

“Nick,” Mary started. “What are you doing?”

Nick got up suddenly and moved right next to me as I flinched. Mary looked slightly afraid, but kept it in knowing that I was watching.

“Tonya Baker,” Nick began. “Yeah, you knew her. You saved her life. Her whole girl scout troop was murdered and she was the only survivor, thanks to you. These two demons were about to finish her off, and then you came in and chased one away but you faced off against the other one, a demon named Abraxas.”

“I remember. So?” Mary snapped.

“So? Abraxas murdered my family the same way he killed those girls- bloody, brutal, slow.” Mary's face fell at his confession, and even I felt bad.

“I’m sorry, Nick,” Mary started. “But you could have just asked me. This, shooting Hope, this is cr-”

“Crazy?” Nick asked, finishing her sentence. “What would you have told me?”

“That I killed him!” Mary raised her voice. “Abraxas is dead.”

“So you would have lied to me?” My eyes widened at his statement. “You didn’t kill him, you trapped him in a box. How’d you do it?”

Mary stuttered. Nick grabbed her coat and shook her. “Tell. Me.”

“Okay, okay. We put him in an Enochian box. He’s contained.”

“Do you have him?” Nick asked, clearly done with beating around the bush.

“No… but I can take you to him.”

//

Dean and Sam were pacing, waiting for a response from Donna’s radio. Dean was beyond worried. When Sam and him got back, Dean immediately went upstairs to look for Hope. He was praying that she got back while he was sleeping, but when he opened the door to her room, she wasn’t there, and he lost it. Sam was stunned for a minute but began to worry more and more.

Eventually Donna got a trace, and they sped off to Grand Rapids.

//

We pulled up to a storage unit that, Mary said, had the box containing Abraxas. Nick pulled Mary out of the van, then me. He pulled me along as I struggled to keep up. Mary unlocked the door, and he pushed her inside first before pulling me in.

“Alright, where is it?” Nick asked. Mary remained silent. “Listen, if you tell me where it is, you and little Winchester get to walk away.”

Mary sighed, obviously struggling with her decisions.

“It’s over there.”

Nick looked around while Mary stood still.

“Where is it?” Nick asked, clearly getting angrier by the minute.

“In the lockers…” Mary said. “Too bad I don’t have the key.”

I smiled a little at how dumb she was playing. I liked her style. Nick shrugged, grabbed a machete, and chopped off the lock, moving into the room with the lockers.

“Which one?” Nick asked. Mary just shrugged, not giving him a clear answer.

Nick grunted and shoved me towards Mary. He started to chop off locks again while Mary helped me keep steady.

“Just sit here, hun. Against the lockers.” I nodded and slid down the lockers onto the floor. I was losing steam, and I didn’t know when Dean or Donna would find us. I was rooting for sooner, rather than later.

“Open the box.” Nick said as I looked up.

“Sorry, but you need a host. It can’t be you, it can’t be me,” She lifted her shirt to show her tattoo. “And, it can’t be Hope.” She lifted up my shirt so he could see the tattoo on my side.

“Well, then I’ll improvise.” Nick said, before leaving.

//

Nick walked in with the security guard from the post out front. He sat him down and pulled the bag off of his head.

“Nick don’t do this-”

“How do I open this thing?” Nick cut her off.

“I don’t know.” Mary sighed.

Nick turned around while trying to figure out the box, which gave Mary a chance to walk up behind him and kick his knees out from under him. She attempted to grab the dropped box, but Nick got back up and kicked her over while she was laying on the ground. I tried to get up and help, but everything was still spinning, and I couldn’t see who was who at this point. I was useless. So I prayed that it wasn’t too late to save us all.

“I said I could handle it!” Nick yelled as he pushed her up against the fence. Nick continued to mess with the box, but then threw it onto the ground. Nick, frustrated as ever, picked up the drill and drilled into the box. Black smoke came from the black cube and flew right into the security guards' mouth.

“Heya, Blondie.” Abraxis cooed at Mary, then looked my way. “Who’s your cute friend?”

“Why’d you kill my family?” Nick demanded.

“Have to be more specific.” Abraxis smirked, clearly messing around.

“Pike Creek, Delaware.” Nick stated, getting emotional.

“Oh. Nick. Why are you walking and talking? I thought the big man had you on lockdown.”

“He’s dead. Now, why did you kill my family?” Nick raised his voice.

“Kill her first, then we’ll talk.” Abraxas looked towards me. “Mary here locked me in a box and I hold a grudge. But I want her to suffer instead. Kill the girl nice and slow, then maybe we’ll talk.”

Nick looked at me.

“Nick,” Mary started with a grin on her face. But Nick looked serious about going through with it. And I was terrified. “Nick! Don’t do it!”

Nick walked toward me slowly, and suddenly my adrenaline kicked in. I needed to get up and run. I tried pushing myself up, but Nick picked up his pace and pounced on me. He straddled my waist as he bound my arms together.

“You ready to die, little Winchester?” Nick sneered as he prepared his knife. He lifted up the knife, and was about to drive it into my stomach, but a gunshot cut him off.

“GET AWAY FROM HER!” Sam yelled, holding Nick at gunpoint.

Nick cowered away from me, and Dean came rushing over to me. His eyes filled with rage as he released my arms and saw my bloody hip. Sam was helping Mary out of her handcuffs while I tried to stand up against the lockers.

“Hey, De.” I said weakly.

“Hey sweetheart.” Dean smiled slightly, struggling to watch me keep myself up.

“Is she okay?” Sam asked, his voice wavering.

“Not sure, Sammy.” Dean sighed. Sam rushed over and gave me a bear hug. I hissed when he held me tight against him.

“What’s wr-” Sam saw my bloody hip, and his face fell. “No, Hope…”

“I-It’s okay, Sammy. I’ll make it.” I chuckled lightly. Sam gave me a kiss on the forehead before pointing his gun at Nick again.

“What are you doing?” Sam questioned.

“What I have to.” Nick said, before grabbing a knife and scraping off a piece of the devil's trap.

“NO-” We all yelled, before being lifted into the air and slammed onto the floor. I groaned out in pain as the cloth fell off of my hip. More blood started to pour onto the floor.

“You wanna know why I killed your family? I was following orders-” Abraxas started.

“From who?” Nick pressed, not giving up.

“Who do you think? Lucifer.” Abraxas smirked.

“I-I don’t understand.” Nick stuttered. “Why me?!”

“You were chosen, but you’re not special. We threw a dart at a phone book and-”

“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica-”

“Stop,” Abraxas said as he forced Dean into one of the storage shelves.

“Dean!” I coughed, looking back to make sure he was okay. He groaned and tried to push himself back up.

“So. Who dies first?” Abraxis asked, before Nick pulled his head back, forced him onto his knees, and stabbed him in the chest.

Nick got up and started swiping at anyone who would come near him. 

“Take it easy!” Sam yelled, before Donna shot him in the leg and M- mom knocked him out.

“Payback, bitch.” I choked out a quiet laugh while trying to fight the darkness from taking over.

“Hope!” Sam and Dean yelled, rushing over to me.

“You gotta stay with us, sissy. Okay?” Dean asked, trying to keep me awake.

“N-no pr-omises…” I smirked.

“Even with a bullet in your hip and at least a quarter of your blood on the floor, you’re still a pain in our asses.” Dean chuckled, trying to make light of the situation.

“I try, De.” I smiled, before slipping into the darkness.

//

I woke up to Dean by my side. I tried to sit up, but my hip was burning.

“Woah. That’s some kick.” I joked, pushing myself up to the headboard. The pain wasn’t nearly as bad, but it still hurt.

“Take it easy, kiddo.” Dean ordered, clearly not messing around. “How are you feeling?”

“Like hell, but I’ll be okay.” I tried to smile, but I just couldn’t. The fight was finally over, and somehow we won. The tears came right after, but I let them fall.

“Hey, it’s okay, sweetheart. It’s over now, I promise.” Dean climbed into the bed with me and held my head against his chest.

“H-he did so much more, De… So much more than just this.” I sobbed.

Sam quietly entered the room while Dean and I sat in silence. He sat down on my other side and kissed my head, letting me know that he was here too.

“W-when he shot me, he… He said he remembered something about me from when Lucifer was possessing him…” I stuttered, more tears flowing but I didn’t care.

“What’d he say, kiddo?” Dean asked, clearly defensive.

“H-he said that he’d use something against me if I didn’t stop fighting him… He moved his other hand to my thigh a-and…” I sucked in a breath, trying to stay calm even though everything in me wanted to scream and thrash. “He made me think he was going to touch me… He knew what had happened to m-me bef-fore… I thought he was going to r-rape me-” I sobbed, wanting to crawl out of my own skin.

“I’m gonna kill him.” Dean growled lowly, getting out of the bed and pacing the floor. “How did he know? Lucifer wasn’t even apart of that… That was another assholes fault…” Deans held his head in his hands.

Sammy comforted me as I continued to sob. My face was buried in his chest, but I didn’t care. Dean sat back down and held me.

“We’re gonna fix this, okay? We’ll get through it together. You’ll always have us. Always.” Sam choked out, trying not to lose it because he wanted to be strong for me.

“We got you, Hope. We love you.”

[thing-you-do-with-that-thing]

My Reason

Characters: Y/N, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester (mentioned), Mary, Cas and Lucifer (briefly mentioned)

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: A tiny bit of angst at first but it’s all good. Smut, the fluffy love making kind.      

Word Count: 1400ish

A/N: This is a two birds with one stone sorta of a thing. I promised @salvachester fluffy Dean smut and an aesthetic (hence why this fic has one) because she spend hours helping me create the new theme on my blog. Love you Scar. I hope you like this one.

It is also my entry for @iwantthedean’s SoCo Summer Challenge where my prompt was You’re my reason for breathing, but I kinda used the song the line is from for inspiration as well. Hence the tiny bit of angst in the beginning. Listen to Something Corporate - She Paints Me Blue.

It is set after ep 12x22 but before the massacre that was the finale.

Thanks to the sweet amazing @deansleather for betaing this one for me. Love you Maddy <3

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

Dean knew he had no right to be here. He had pushed her away a long time ago. Back when the Mark was still on his arm. He had told her he didn’t love her anymore and he had practically thrown her out of the Bunker. Every since the Mark got ripped from his arm he had been telling himself what he had done was for the best. He knew that he had hurt her, but she left the life. She was safe. She could be happy without him, but the truth was he couldn’t be happy without her. Not even close. Y/N had left a gaping hole where his heart used to be. He had tried to fill it with booze and women, but no matter who he screwed or how much he drank the void was always there.

Admitting that to himself however hadn’t been easy. He yelled at Sam every time he brought her up and he told himself that he was fine. She was just a girl right? There was plenty of girls in this world. Nothing special about her. Other than there was. It had taken Dean being almost buried alive in his own home to see that. All he could think about being trapped in the Bunker while the air slowly ran out was her. He saw her at every turn of the halls. Her smile, her eyes, her body. He heard her laughter echoing off the walls, her soft whisper telling him how much she loved him.

Y/N had been the only one that had ever truly understood him. She had been the only one to accept him for who he was. Flaws, failures and all. She had been his light that guided him home on the darkest of days and now his light was gone. Dean needed her like the air that was getting harder to breath. All had been able to think about was how he wanted to have her in his arms one last time. He had regretted all the things he had said and all the things that he hadn’t. He loved her, with everything he had and she would never hear him say that.

So when Dean had made it out of the Bunker. When he had brought his mom home and when Cas had healed him, Dean left. He knew there was things to be done and a world to be saved, but the world had his family and Dean needed his girl by his side. Sam had understood, knowing he would be back with her by his side or back on his own, broken hearted but ready to fight. Just like always, Dean would stove his crap and keep moving on, but he needed to know if she was still his. He needed her to know, she would always be the only woman he had ever truly loved. The only woman he could ever love.

So here he was, standing outside her home in the pouring rain. Too scared to move. He had faced the worst of the worst this world had to offer, but seeing her, knowing it might be the last time, that scared him more than anything he had ever encountered.

She was better off without him. Dean had hurt her, knowingly, even if he had sworn that was something he would never do. She had been out of the life for 3 years now and he had no right to be here. Dean took a deep breath letting his tears mix with the rain as he slowly turned around to walk away but froze the second he heard her voice.

“You came all this way to get pneumonia and not even say hey?” There was no anger or blame in her voice as Dean turned around slowly. She was standing on the sidewalk not 3 feet from him and Dean sucked in a breath. She was even more beautiful than he remembered. The rain making her clothes cling to every curve of her body as she stood there smiling at him. He didn’t deserve her. Not in the slightest. She should be yelling at him, crying, screaming, telling him to piss off and never come back, but she was smiling.

“I knew you would come for me one day,” she spoke softly as she walked towards him.

“Y/N I am so sorry,” Dean started, but then her arms was around his neck and his instinctively closed around her waist.

“Shut up and kiss me you fool,” she teased and Dean didn’t need to be told twice. He kissed her, pouring all the things he couldn’t say into it. He told her with his kiss how sorry he was, what an idiot he had been, how much he missed her and needed her.  

Y/N slowly pulled away with a dazed expression on her face and Dean couldn’t help but smile when she took his hand leading him back towards her house and her bedroom. Fuck he had missed making her look like that. He had missed showing her how he really felt and how precious she was. So that is what he did the second their soaked clothes hit the floor.

He gently laid her down on her bed without a worked, his fingers tracing her body. Refamiliarizing himself with it. His lips caressing every inch of her skin, sucking down on every sweet spot he had never forgotten, making her moan his name over and over, begging for him to go where she really needed him.

Who was he to deny her anything. Dean buried his face between her legs, kissing her cunt burying his tongue inside of her, fucking her with it in much the same way as he had kissed her earlier. Worshipping her as he used his skills to apologize to her over and over until she came screaming his name, smothering his head with her strong thighs, but Dean didn’t care. He didn’t try to move. He stayed right where he belong, helping her through her high until her body finally stopped shaking and she relaxed beneath him.

He slowly kissed his way up her body, until he reached her lips. He kissed her tenderly and sweetly as he slowly let himself sink into her welcoming heat. He had forgotten how good she felt wrapped around him and it took every ounce of willpower he possessed to not come apart right then and there. This wasn’t about him. It was about her and him showing her how deeply he cared. How sorry he was and promising her he would never leave her again. They belonged together like two pieces of a puzzle and without her Dean would never feel whole.

Dean slowly moved inside of her, making her feel everything as his hands roamed her body everywhere he could reach and his lips on hers. He pulled away to look deeply into her eyes, never stopping his movements as he made his confession.

“You are my reason for breathing Y/N/N. You’re my everything. I love you,” Dean smiled lovingly as she gasped. She had told him those three words more times than he could remember but he had never been brave enough to say them back. Now he was. He was never holding anything back with her ever again. Now that he had her back in his arms, so breathtakingly beautiful beneath him he was never letting her go ever again.

“I love you too, Dee,” she whispered making him smile even wider before his lips was back on hers and his pace quickened ever so slightly, pushing them both towards their release. It wasn’t earth shattering or strong. In was slow and lasting, just like his love for her had always been. It was her and him against the world. With her by his side there was nothing he couldn’t do. Together they would return to Sam and beat Lucifer back to the deepest pit of hell where he belongs. No power no matter how ancient or strong could conquer their love or battle the strength he possessed when he was with her. The Mark she had left on his heart and soul was eternal and lasting. She was not only his reason for living, but his strength to carry on and his determination to win. She was his everything.   

Dean Tag Team

 @mysupernaturalfics @blacktithe7 @percywinchester27 @torn-and-frayed @iamnotsaneatall @naadestiel @jpadjackles @flufy07 @crushing83 @sleep-silent-angel @fuckyeahfeysand @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester @d-s-winchester @akshi8278 @feelmyroarrrr @kayteonline @hexparker @docharleythegeekqueen @starswirlblitz @faith-in-dean @knittingknerdy @quiddy-writes @lenaabs @petrovadixon @blanketmadeofstar @arryn-nyxx @winchesters-flannels @winchester-writes @ruprecht0420  @tas898 @emilywritesaboutdean @salvachester @emoryhemsworth @tennesseewhiskey-and-pie @mogaruke @supernatural-jackles @jojo-nz @riakie @anokhi07 @adriellej @michirutenshi @dance4angels @castielsbecky @charliebradbury1104 @jayankles @mouselovesmusic @jensenackesl @twistnshoutx @im-most-definitely-fangirling @dudalleo @ivvitm1109 @kathaswings @sinbadcat83 @winchestdiaries @thebunkerismyhome @iwriteaboutdean @winchesterprincessbride @captainradicalpassion @mrswhozeewhatsis @zanthiasplace @redunicorn10 @brooke-supernatural16 @haleyhay96 @covarrubiasalex @becauseimawinchester @deansbaekaz2y5 @mamapeterson @spn-fan-girl-173 @secretlyfurrydragon @be-amaziing @winchesterswoonathon @sandlee44 @roxy-davenport @profkmoriarty13 @bringmesomepie56 @sonofabitch-spn @impala-dreamer @jensen-jarpad @deansleather @heyitsilverwolf @allfandomxreader @caffeine-countingstars @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @icequeen1371  @phoenixia67 @kaylajnae13 @chickenmcsade @atc74 @chaos-and-the-calm67 @brihughes4 @aiaranradnay @angelsdeadromance @findingfitnessforme @muliermalefici @amazinntay @katarinfrost @castiels-broken-fool @bemyqueenofdarkness @moonstar86

[huntertales]

Complete Edition: There’s Something About Sam. (Swap Meat S05E12)

Pairing: Sam x Reader  Word Count: 13,475. Summary: Sam’s been a little bit different lately since he went missing the other night. Little do you know, the man isn’t quite like himself. Warnings: Spoilers for Swap Meat, as this is a total rewrite of the episode, Sam centered for my Sam!Girls out there. Canon violence, that’s it!

GUESS WHAT? There's an entire episode rewrite dedicated just to my Sam!Girls. This is a whole whooping TWENTY-ONE PAGES in length. I've been writing this on and off for the past few months. Tonight I spent a little over six hours just finishing it up and writing it. But I decided since my rewrite is exactly on this episode, to just finish it up and post it tonight. Why it's so long is that I normally post an episode rewrite into four different parts. This is all smacked into one. Grab something to drink and don't prepare to read this before bed, because you're gonna be here for awhile. I really hope you guys enjoy. I had a lot of fun writing this, as there's almost no episode rewrites dedicated to Sam. (Far as I know. People have been vocal about wanting to see some. So...) I decided to give him a bit of love. And if you guys like this, maybe I'll do a few more with other episodes!

And is this rewrite going to be cheesy AF at times? Probably. But this is purely for entertainment. Enjoy! ^_^

Your name: submit What is this? // <![CDATA[ function replaceAll(find, replace, str) { return str.replace(new RegExp(find, 'g'), replace); } function myHandler() { var input = document.getElementById("inputTxt").value; document.body.innerHTML = replaceAll('Y/N', document.getElementById("inputTxt").value, document.body.innerHTML); } // ]]>

You quietly sat at the motel desk with your laptop propped open to a few internet browsers displaying the research you should be doing like you had promised, and not staring at your cell phone. Which was still burning hot after being used just a minute ago. You stared at your laptop and tried to get yourself on focusing again to the more important task at hand. But you knew it'd be impossible to think about at a time like this. Your gaze slowly drifted away from the website about a possible ghost you were hunting and to your damn phone, wondering for a split second if Sam might have called you in the past thirty seconds. But you knew it was impossible you would have missed it.

The volume on your phone was up all the way, you even put it on full vibration for extra caution. Sam had been missing for the past three hours, and despite knowing the giant hunter could take care of himself, your anxious mind wandered to the worst case scenario. Dean tried to reassure you that his brother probably got distracted by something at the library right as he was leaving, that's why he hadn't answered your dozen text messages or five voicemail. Maybe it was a bit of an overkill, but you were dealing with the end of days. You couldn't be too careful.

Dean was growing a bit worried himself when he headed out about an hour ago to check around town to see if he could find his brother somewhere. But even he wasn't answering his damn phone to give up a much needed update. Maybe Dean was onto something, Sam could have found something when he ended the call and found himself suckered into reading. You leaned back in the rickety old chair and pondered on the possible situation, but you found yourself slowly denying that it could be true. You'd spent every single day with the man and his brother for the past year and a half, he was smarter and more cautious than this. When he called about coming back from somewhere, he meant it. Something was wrong, you knew it.

Meeting the Winchester boys was...an accidental mishap that lead you down the rabbit hole of what they were calling the apocalypse, despite your best efforts of trying not getting here. You've been hunting now for five years, since you graduated high school and packed up what little belongings you had. Like most hunters, you were dragged into this lifestyle after someone you loved had been killed at the hands of a monster. For the Winchesters it had been their mother, which spiraled their father into a lifelong obsession he handed down to his children. You weren't so lucky to just have one person in your life die. For you, it was your entire family at the hands of a demon you still hadn't had the chance of tracking down. While you had met a few hunters of your own over the past several years by chance of taking the same hunt, how you met the Winchesters and their blue-eyed angel friend was a whole other story.

You had been working on a case in a small town that looked to be like it was a demon possession, jumping from person to person, leaving a body count caught your attention. While you had been happy to work on your own, the rare times when you had met up with another hunter, both of you worked together to get the job done. But it seemed this time you hadn't stolen a case from just any old hunter, you had two legends of the hunting world at your motel doorstep. You had heard rumors of the the two men over the years and was told about stories when you had stopped at a little bar known among hunters as the Roadhouse, a place which they had been frequent in before it burned down.

One thing lead to another, you learned the real reason why the Winchester brothers weren't letting you take care of some low-level demon you almost had a chance to exorcise again. You attempted once after tricking it into a devil's trap and saving a woman from being killed. While you had gotten her to safety, things had turned south when you realized the demon wasn't alone. But you had managed to get away with only a few marks you had been cleaning back in your motel room before the Winchesters were knocking on your door. It seemed they wanted you gone, not because they wanted to steal your hunt, but because this wasn't some run of the mill demon. You had met the big boss, the first demon ever created, Lilith. She had been the reason why people were dropping like flies, and it wasn't bedside she was bored. It was for a ritual to break what they were calling a seal.

After trying to explain the situation best they could, and meeting Castiel, a once very judgement angel, you learned you had stepped into the disaster of the sixty six seals. Each one that broke would lead closer to Lucifer being free, and this little thing called an apocalypse would become a reality. You had managed to stop the one seal, but you hadn't been efficient from letting the others break. Since Lilith had put her pale white eyes on you, it would only be a matter of time before she would try to seek revenge. So, you and the boys agreed that it might be better if you tagged along until this entire thing blew over. And much as you tried, you couldn't stop it, leading to this exact moment.

“What the hell is this?!”

Your head snapped up from the cell phone you were tempted to grab again when you heard the shrilling sounds of a female voice coming from just a few doors down grabbed your attention.  You pushed yourself to your feet and headed for the window, putting a finger between the blinds, cautiously peering out to see what the commotion was about. Three doors down in the motel room from yours stood the maid you had suspected was starting her graveyard shift by heading for the boys' room first. You furrowed your brow when you noticed she was scurrying away fast as she could with her cart. You nervously swallowed, wondering what could have been so frightening that made her run off like that as you walked to the door. Swinging it open, you scanned the parking lot, only to see the Impala was still gone. If someone was in the room, that meant only one thing.

Without thinking about grabbing a pair of shoes on this winter night, you tracked across the cold concrete and ignored the shivers ran down your spine. You counted down the numbers until you spotted 102. Pulling out your arm from the crook of your armpit that was keeping your fingers warm, you were taken by surprise when the door showed to be unlocked, but you stopped yourself from pushing it open. Every worse case scenario rushed through your mind while you stood outside in the freezing cold weather and began wondering what caused the maid to be so frightened like she had become. Maybe Sam was severely injured to the point of gruesome wounds. What if a few demons jumped him on his way back? Or maybe it was worse. You inhaled a deep breath and prepared yourself for the worst when you pushed open the door, stepping inside the room without announcement. But you stumbled upon a sight you weren't expecting to witness in a million years.

You opened your mouth to speak the man's name in a worried tone when you caught sight of him with his back turned to yours. But when you realized what he was doing, you stopped dead in your tracks in slight confusion. Sam was standing in front of the full length mirror without his flannel shirt he was wearing earlier today. He was left in his undershirt he'd always paired with. At first you thought he was inspecting himself for any possible wounds from an attack that might have happened. It could have explained his absence over the past few hours. Yet, you soon discovered that wasn't it.

You raised your brow ever so slightly when you noticed the fabric around his upper arm was stretched out, showing off the muscle he’d gained from years of a healthy regime and hunting. Sam always made you feel a bit inferior when you stood next to him. He towered over you with his six foot four frame, not to mention the muscles that barely could be contained in his flannel shirts he wore religiously. He looked like the kind of guy who could take down just about anyone, and he could. But he was more of the gentle giant. And far from showing any signs of vanity about his own body.

"Sam," You managed to find your voice, forcing this moment of privacy to be broken when you caught yourself staring like an idiot. Stepping into the motel and slamming the door shut, it was enough for the man to be taken out from his own personal thoughts. You watched as he jumped out of his own skin, startled by the interruption he wasn't expecting. You gave him a confused look, wondering what had gotten into him. “What the hell? Dean and I have been trying to call you for hours.”

Sam's response was to stare at you with almost a bewilderment look, as if he was wondering why you were scolding him. The younger Winchester should have been used to your over the top worrisome behavior. You and the boys had gotten close over the past year since you started hunting with them. Dean had turned into the big brother, Sam was like your best friend you had back home. Both of you shared the same sense of interest in research, and humor. He could make you laugh when you needed it the most. Not to mention Sam had the type of personality where he could make you spill just about anything he wanted to know about you. He knew all of your deep dark secrets, as you known all of is. After all, you seen him withdraw from his demon blood addiction.

But despite seeming him make so many wrong decisions over the past year and regretting every single one, it didn't stop you from longing for something more from the younger Winchester at times. What wasn't to like about Sam? He was handsome and had brains that could outwit just about anyone. Not to mention he was so damn tall. But you brushed off the feelings as loneliness all hunters faced. Sam was your hunting buddy, just like his big brother, Dean. And he should have been prepared for the wrath of your worried behavior you were lashing out at him tonight.

Before Sam could respond with a logical excuse, your gaze lingered over to the motel door when it swung wide open. You let out a sigh of relief when you saw that it was Dean, who looked pissed off as you had been. Sam, however, had a second of massive confusion to what was going on, and who all of you people were. “What the hell, man? Y/N and I’ve been trying to—”

“We’ve already been through this. You can cut the speech.” You said, letting the older Winchester save his breath for a scolding you already gave a few moments ago. A slight shiver passed through your body from the small breeze that came from the still opened door. “Mind closing the door? It's freezing enough in here.”

“Put some pants on, sweetheart.” Dean remarked. You furrowed your brow from his words, but when you glanced down at your ensemble, you quickly realized what was making him smirk like he'd just heard a funny joke. It was late enough at night for you retire with the thought of not having to go out in public. You glanced down to see you were wearing your favorite ensemble of an oversize shirt you'd stolen from Sam what felt like forever ago and some pajama shorts you wore to bed. You scoffed and crossed your arms over your chest. when Dean got a look on his face. He was like a big brother to you, and he would take just about every opportunity he could to harass you. It was a relationship you had grown to love from him over the past year. But the mood only lasted for a split second before he looked over at his little brother, curious for the reason of his brother's absence over the past few hours. "Where you been, man?"

“I picked up some food. Bacon burger turbo, large chili-cheese fry, right?” Sam tried to make up the situation by walking over to the motel bed, grabbing a fast food bag from the same greasy joint you had eaten at earlier this afternoon. You had grown used to the unhealthy diet of being a hunter, it was one of the perks of living on the road, but your stomach felt queasy at the thought of eating the same stuff twice in the same day. Dean, however, shrugged off his leather jacket and tossed it to the bed, all before grabbing the peace offering from his little brother without question. "Sorry, man. Really. I-I just—lost track of time. I didn't mean to freak you guys out."

"Thanks." Dean said, seeming a bit skeptical of why his brother was acting a bit out of character. You crossed your arms tighter around your body and looked at Sam, watching as he grabbed his button up from the bed to put it back on. "Don't know why it took you two hours, but thanks."

"Oh, you're gonna want to eat that on the road." Sam said as he pointed at the white paper bag Dean was about to open up to grab a fry. He then gestured a finger to the assortment of weapons that had been out for a cleaning, the usual drill, but it seemed the younger Winchester forgotten the discreteness of what it meant to keeping outsiders out without causing trouble. "The maid came in, saw that, and now they're all kind of freaking out."

“Why’d you let the maid in?” You asked him, a hint of disbelief could be heard in your tone from how accidentally careless he was acting tonight.

“It just happened.” Sam answered you not even a second later.

You furrowed your brow slightly as Dean looked at his brother with a bit of suspicion. You decided to let this little accident pass without much question. These past few months of traveling with the boys had been a stressful one, unraveling a situation that you had never thought would come to be. Stresses had made everyone do a bit of stupid things, that’s what you made yourself believe of why Sam wasn’t acting quite like himself.

“Whatever.” Dean said. “I got to hit the head and then we’ll take off.”

You pointed your thumb over the door, "Give me five minutes. I'm gonna go change."

“Alright.” Sam agreed. “I’ll be outside.”

Sam watched as his brother headed for the bathroom and shut the door behind him. You took a few steps forward to the motel door, but you found yourself stopping in your tracks for a moment as you looked over your shoulder to stare at the younger Winchester. He looked exactly like how he did when he left, and while nothing seemed physically different about him...you just felt like something was off. It seemed Sam had found out you were staring at him, he gave you a small smile and a wave, you returned the smile before making yourself walk back to your own motel room, thinking that maybe you were a being a little bit too paranoid for your own good.

Five minutes later you emerged from the motel room with a new set of clothes and your duffel bag packed up. You walked down the familiar path that lead to where the Impala was parked without much thought. As you stepped down from the sidewalk, you spotted the Impala was parked just across the way, next to a dumpster. You didn't think much of it as you began walking over, presuming that Sam was sitting in his usual spot in the passenger seat, but it seemed he was a little busy. You stopped in your tracks for a moment to see that he was cautiously getting something from the car before walking towards the dumpster and suspiciously tossing the content in. He didn't waste a second of brushing his hands clean from the evidence and heading back to the car, acting as if everything was fine.

You summed up the situation to thinking that he could have been throwing away some trash before his brother could find it. You headed over to the Impala when you heard Dean following behind by the sound of his shoes and the jingle of his keys. You opened up the backseat door and threw your bag inside before slipping yourself into the seat. Everything seemed normal again as all of you had taken your regular position, but it seemed that Sam was seeming a bit tired of sitting in the passenger side from the question he asked out of the blue.

"Hey, can I drive?" Sam curiously asked. Dean was a bit thrown off from the question that he never heard his brother ask. Sam was the only one out of the three of you that was allowed to drive the Impala. And mostly he only did that on occasions when there was long drives. All of you were just heading for another motel, but Dean decided to take over the wheel on this one. You sat in the middle of the backseat with Sam’s gigantic frame in your left view as Dean was to your right. Sam turned on the car, which triggered Baby’s usual purs from the engine that you heard every single time. To the younger Winchester, he acted like it was the best thing ever. “Oh, this is so sweet!”

Sam decided to have a little bit of fun by pressing on the gas pedal a few times while the car was still in parked. You slowly looked over at Dean, who wasn't growing confused at this situation, he was more annoyed at the lack of progress. "You want to get the lead out, Andretti? Come on." Dean complained, motioning for this situation to wrap up. Sam reached out to change gears, seeming to forget how to drive, too. Dean warned the man about the mistake he was going to make, but Sam pressed his foot lightly on the gas. "Reverse. Reverse!"

Sam didn't listen in time. You heard the tires squeal against the blacktop before the Impala was accelerating backwards, making you be the victim as you roughly hit the seat when the car backed into the dumpster. Luckily the Winchester managed to break before there was any damage to the Impala. You winced in slight pain as your hand reached around to touch your aching neck, Dean was nothing more than pissed at what had unfolded. But in a calm voice, he turned his head to look at his little brother.

“It’s in reverse.” Dean stated between clenched teeth.

Sam tried to apologize for what happened, but Dean wasn't having it. Both of them switched spots, putting them back to where they had started. Normally you would have laughed at any sort of accidental mishap Sam Winchester, the famous hunter known for his intelligence and quick reflexes, but you found the same pit in your stomach. You kept your feelings to yourself, thinking that it was, yet again, the paranoia from the bigger situation that was making you worried. 

+ + +

The next morning you and the boys checked into another motel just across town, but it was still little progress in the case. The boys had taken a simple salt and burn after hearing an old friend of their dad was in trouble with some nasty spirit. You had spent most of last night trying to find any sort of lead that could help solve this case that should have been one of the easier ones you've worked on this year. It was just early in the morning when you headed down the busy street with the boys to start on the busy day you had ahead for you.

“So, uh, where we going, anyway?” You looked over at the younger Winchester that was standing on your right. A small smile spreading across your lips from the question he asked. You told him you were going to work, which then required you to specifically mention the case. He nodded his head as a small smile spread across his lips, causing his dimples to pop out from each of his cheeks. “Oh, right. Yeah—the case. Of course. Where, uh, do you want to start?”

"Well, since you or Y/N couldn't find where Maggie Briggs was buried, now we have to do an all-day tombstone roll to see if we can dig her up." Dean said. He headed for the driver’s side of the impala as you followed behind to get into the backseat.

“Wait. Maggie Briggs? You mean like—like, the witch Maggie Briggs?” Sam asked. You looked at him with a funny expression as you nodded your head. But it seemed he knew exactly what he was talking about from how he started rambling on next. “Yeah, she’s in the basement. Isaiah Pickett’s house. Okay. there’s this legend that he hung her, but he didn’t. The real truth is that he was carrying his illegitimate child, and he killed her and then buried her in the basement.”

“Her ‘murdered chylde.’ That would explain the scratches.” You noted, remembering the terrible marks on the little girl’s stomach. Maggie wasn’t doing it at a vengeance, maybe she was trying to tell you something. “Wait, how do you know all of this?”

“Oh, I’ve done all kinds of research on it.” Sam said, shrugging off your question. You raised your brow slightly, wondering how he managed to squeeze in the time. All of you had been busy over the past few hours. But it seemed he hadn’t left the library empty handed before coming back. “I mean, you know...last night.”

You nodded your head at his excuse, thinking he must have kept this information to himself last night after the antics from last night after finding some lord in one of the local books at the library. You opened the backseat door and slipped yourself inside, the boys following behind. Dean turned on the Impala and reached out to turn on the radio as per usual, leading to a classic rock song to come on. While you and the oldest Winchester had bonded over the love of rock, Sam wasn't a personal fan of it like the both of you were. He had grown used to it over the decades of listening to the same rock tapes that were handed down from his father. But it seemed he had grown for a fondness for it today when he turned up the volume to start jamming out to it. You cocked up a brow when he caught your reflection in the side mirror. When he looked over his shoulder, he gave you another smile, the kind in which that seemed to have made his entire face light up. It'd been awhile since he had seen so positive, maybe the Sam you were seeing today was a newer version that you just needed to stop questioning.

+ + +

 About twenty minutes later, you arrived at the Pickett residence that had been abandoned long ago, thanks to Sam's knowledge on the place. He told you all sorts of information on the guy, which you listened, like always. Sam was like a sponge when it came to research, he soaked up just about everything, and he loved telling you about it. "So, get this..." was one of his most used catch phrases you had grown to recognize him by, as Dean's infamous "son of a bitch" when he got angry. You might have only been traveling for a little over a year with the boys, but after spending every waking moment with them, you grew to know a lot about them and develop special relationships with them. You and Dean were more like brother and sister. You bonded over the simplest of things, like your similar taste in music and your obsession with his car, and in return he teased you and treated you as family. Sam was a bit different with you.

 You found the relationship with Sam a bit different from his older brother, as the both of them were far polar opposite in their personalities. But that wasn't the case. When you first met Sam, he had a lot of...bad things going on for him. He found himself trusting a demon named Ruby and following her down a dark path of drinking demon blood to heighten his psychic abilities. The Winchesters had a past that was horrifying and filled with pain. But you never looked at Sam differently, not even when he freed the Devil himself from Hell. Because that wasn't the Sam you had grown to know over the past year and a half.

 Despite all of that, you had a friendship that was developed from hours of research in dimly lit libraries and bars when Dean was off trying to find himself a lover for the night. When Ruby wasn't around trying to mess with his head, you had seen the real Sam Winchester. He was smart as hell, yet he was empathetic enough to make just about anyone spill their dirty secrets without feeling ashamed for what they done. He was a giant with a set of puppy dog eyes that you wanted to stare into all day. There was something about Sam that drove you crazy. He wasn't any guy you had met before, but up weren't exactly a skilled romantic. The only real relationship you had was when you were in high school, and only that lasted a few weeks before he dumped you for another girl. Yet it didn't stop you from growing a fondness for the man, there was something about him that made you feel good and more like your old self before you started hunting. But the man you had grown to fall for seemed to have been absent since last night. He’d been acting a bit strange.

 You busied yourself with heading for the trunk when Dean tossed you the keys to fetch the supplies he already had packed after he wanted to take a quick sweep of the place to make sure it was really abandoned. You shoved the key inside the lock and opened up the trunk, you reached inside to pull out the duffel bag that on most days you could handle. As you yanked out the bag, you didn't realize how heavy it was, causing you to nearly stumble to the ground when gravity decided to play a part again. You were about to get a face full of dirt, but before you could, you felt someone reach out and grab the bag and then took the other to wrap an arm around your waist. Sam was quick enough to catch you before you could fall, but it took you a moment to realize how close you were as the result.

 You didn't realize Sam was at least a few inches from you, giving a rare chance to stare into his eyes, which always were a bit interesting to you. On some days that seemed green, but other occasions, in the right light, they looked blue. The both of you spent a few moments in this position as a bashful smile began to spread across your lips at the embarrassing situation you had landed yourself in. Sam let out a nervous chuckle and started to give you a smile, but the moment didn't last very long, as it was ruined by Dean's obnoxious attempt of clearing his throat. You quickly stood back up straight as Sam took ahold of the bag. Dean rolled his eyes, turning his back on you as he let out a quiet chuckle, finding the situation a little too amusing for his own good.

 All of you headed into the house and found the staircase to the basement, as Dean traveled first and you trailed after, leaving Sam to be the last in line. You cautiously made your way down the steps with one hand wrapped around the flashlight and the other carrying the shotgun loaded with nothing more than rock salt. Nothing seemed to have popped out as you took the final step down to the basement floor, you continued on your travels, wondering where Isaiah Pickett buried his ex lover’s body. But you found your search going quiet when you looked over your shoulder to see that Sam was having a bit of fun on the job. You furrowed your brow slightly when he was bent over at the waist with the shotgun, pretending to aim at invisible ghosts.

“Boo-yah!” He whispered to himself with a smirk. “Master chief in the house, bizatches!”

 “Feeling all right, Master chief?” You teased the younger Winchester, finding his behavior a little bit strange. But nevertheless you gave him a smile, trying to keep up with the lighthearted attitude he seemed to have been trying out. Sam nodded his head as his cheeks began to grow a bit rosy from the flashlight you had on him. You turned forward and continued on walking through the basement, until you stumbled upon a spot on the floor that wasn’t dirt like everything else. “Well, I’ll be damned. Willow moss.”

 “Yeah, right.” Sam agreed with you. You looked over your shoulder again to see that he was standing across the way from you and Dean, but he could see the shallow grave and its lightly green moss from where he was standing. “It’s, uh, supposed to grow over witches’ graves, right?”

 Dean found himself looking at his brother a little funny, wondering why the man seemed a little unsure of the piece of information that he should have clearly known. The oldest Winchester brushed off the coincidence as nothing. He dropped the duffel bag to the ground and got to work himself on digging up the grave, knowing it was the first part of wrapping up this hunt. While Sam remained as backup, you watched as Dean got to work, your hands were full of the salt and lighter fluid, itching to get this hunt wrapped up for good. It took only about fifteen minutes before you could see bones peeking through the shallow grave were about to peek through. While the process unfolded, you had your back turned on Sam, not seeming to notice what sort of fatal consequences might lead to, as the man you had thought was Sam...wasn’t really him.

 You leaned your back against the wall, giving Sam a perfect aim of Dean, who had no idea what was about to come. The younger Winchester took the shotgun and aimed it at the man, little did he realize there wasn’t actual bullets in the chamber, just salt rounds. “Hey, man,” Sam whispered to what he had grown to realize what his brother. But he spoke too softly for either one of you to hear him. “I’m really sorry about this.”

 Before the man could pull the trigger, it seemed that he was about to meet Maggie Briggs, who wasn't too happy about what you were doing to her grave. Your head whipped over your shoulder when you heard a crashing sound coming from behind. Sam had been taken by surprise when the spirit had thrown him across the room and crashing into a shelf that didn't look too comfortable. You called out the man's name in a panicked tone, causing Dean to quickly stop what he was doing. He headed over his brother to help, as you followed behind to see if he was all right. Dean pulled the man to his feet and asked if he was all right. 

“Let’s get the hell out of here!” Sam shouted with a panicked tone.

 “Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Dean stopped his little brother from making an escape, silently wondering why he was acting like a coward all of a sudden. “We still got to burn the body, you idiot.”

 Dean gave his little brother a look, wondering why he had been acting so strange since last night. He began walking forward to the grave, it still had to be dug up a bit more before anybody could salt the bones. You followed behind the older Winchester to wrap up this a little faster. But you only got a few steps ahead before you found yourself meeting the same compromise Sam had just been in a few moments ago. You found your back being roughly thrown against the wall, knocking the air out of your lungs, as you had accidentally hit your head roughly against the wall, making your vision turn a bit blurry. Faintly, you heard Dean call out your name in a panicked tone, but before he could come to your rescue, the man had been thrown across the room, leaving Sam to somehow find the courage to save the day.

 You closed your eyes for a moment when your head felt the headache begin to form, little realizing the attention that was soon to be focused on you. You slowly parted an eye open when you felt like someone was staring at you. You realized a second later that it was Maggie herself, and she wasn't exactly happy at the early retirement you were putting her into. Without a weapon to protect yourself with, you shield yourself to keep the pain to a minimum. You squeezed your eyes shut, expecting to feel her wrath be scratching a message into your skin or throwing you against the room, but there was nothing. You dropped your arms to your lap as you opened your eyes to see that Sam was standing over the grave with a bottle of lighter fluid in his hands and a toothy grin spread across his lips.

 “That was sweet!”

 + + +

 There was no better way to celebrate a job well done than a few rounds of beer. You weren't much of a drinker, you preferred to sip on something more non-alcoholic, but you wouldn't pass up the chance to do a few shots with the boys to at least congratulate yourself. Dean pressured you into at least doing one before he ordered around round and soon disappeared himself, saying something about seeing a pretty face at the bar, and needing to scratch an itch. You blocked out what he was saying and pushed him away, letting him have a chance to enjoy himself, leaving you alone with Sam. Which was something that he had done frequently when the restaurant he chose wasn't some diner or greasy fast food joint. He needed his alone time, as you never complained about being alone with Sam. You always enjoyed his company, no matter what the two of you were doing.

You sipped on your drink and watched the man get to work, a smile crept at the end of your lips, wondering to yourself of how the man always managed to get what he wanted. The waitress that had been helping you since you got here brought over the round of shots that Dean ordered. "Oh, would it be too much to ask if I ask for a cheeseburger? Everything on it, extra onions." You asked the waitress as you gave her a smile.

 “Absolutely, sweetheart.” She said as she cleared out the empty shot glasses.

 “Ooh, that—that sounds good. Ditto.” Sam joined in on getting himself an early dinner. “But make mine a bacon cheeseburger. And hell, why not put a fried egg on top?”

 The waitress nodded her head and walked back to the kitchen to put your orders in. You slowly glanced over at the man sitting across from you, his behavior over the past day was starting to grow more stranger, and this was just the final straw for you. "Okay, who are you and what have you done with Sam?" You questioned him with a serious tone. You looked at him straight in the eye, making him look at you with a slightly panicked look, as if you had caught him red handed. You raised a brow slightly as he shifted around in his seat. "Bacon cheeseburgers now? That's not like you, Sammy."

 "I don't know. I eat them, don't I? Anyways, we are celebrating." Sam said, managing to divert the conversation as he lifted up his shot glass.

 “Yeah, I guess.” You agreed with him. You grabbed your own glass and lifted it up, you gave him a small smile. “Another one bites the dust. Nice work today, like always,”

“You too. I had a, uh, really awesome day, Y/N. Seriously." Sam said. You reached out to lightly clink your glasses together before you downed your shot with ease. Sam, however, struggled a bit to make himself shallow it before letting out a rough cough from the burning. "Whoo! Sweet."

 “A really awesome day?” You found yourself lingering on what the younger man had said. Sam wondered what the fuss was all about when he managed to take another sip of his beer to wash away the taste of the shot. "It was a random, d-list ghost hunt. That's...that's awesome to you?"

 “I can’t be in a good mood?” Sam questioned you back.

"Yeah, I guess. It's..." You trailed off, trying to reason with his attitude that was all foreign to you. But you looked up from your drink, stopping yourself from taking another sip. "No, actually. In all of the time that I've known you, it's really not your style, Sam." 

"Well, then, it's a new me. I mean, come on. Why shouldn't I be happy? I've got a gun, I'm getting drunk, and I look like this." Sam gestured to his face, making you let out a quiet chuckle from his attitude. You bit your bottom lip as he let out a quiet sigh, finding himself getting lost in a small rant. "I don't know. You ever feel like your whole future is being decided for you. No matter how much you fight it, you can't stop the plan. The stupid, stupid plan."

"Not particularly." You said, knowing exactly what he was talking about without him needing to say it directly. “But I like to pretend I'm a pretty understanding person."

"So, I don't know. I guess it's, uh, it's just nice to do a little ass-kicking for a change, that's all. I've got a brother that's totally cool. And a best friend who's probably one of the prettiest and coolest chick I've ever met.” Sam found himself lost in his rambles, and without a warning, he let something slip out that you weren't expecting to hear in about a million years. Your eyebrows shot up in curiosity as the man suddenly began to turn the darkest shade of red you've ever seen. You tried covering your mouth to keep the small chuckles from his behavior to a minimum, but the grin that was peeking out from the cracks of your fingers was unavoidable. "Uh, you know what? I—I'm drunk. Sorry. Just—Just forget it. I'm making a complete ass out of myself, aren't I?"

 You swallowed down a laugh at what you heard, it was something that you would have never expected to hear from the younger Winchester, as he looked a little mortified. It was something that was starting to make you blush a little bit, but you brushed off the confession as a tipsy compliment. "It's, uh...I'll drink to that." You reached out to hit your shot glasses against his, enjoying the very rare moment together with him. As you swallowed down the shot with ease, you couldn't help yourself at how much the alcohol burned his throat. “Hey, is it me, or are we actually drinking together?”

 “We don't do it that often, huh?” Sam asked, a small smile spreading across hips lips.

 You shook your head as you reached for the straw to your drink, you stirred the ice around, making it quietly hit against the glass cup. “Not really. Most of the time when we’re alone it's because Dean abandoned us with the research. Not a lot of time for...just hanging out.” You said, shrugging your shoulders. “Guess it's just perks of the job.”

 “Well, we should do this more often.” Sam said. He seemed more lighthearted today. Maybe it was from the three shots he took and a beer he drank, but you were starting to find this new Sam very interesting, to say the least. “You're a pretty cool girl, Y/N.”

 “Sam Winchester thinks I’m pretty and cool? Well,”  You snickered at your attempt of teasing him as you reached for your drink to take another sip to cover the laugh you were about to let loose. “You really are drunk.”

 The waitress disrupted the moment between you and Sam when she arrived back with your food, the smell alone made your mouth water. You thanked her before she headed off to attend the rest of her customers, and as you reached out to grab one of your boiling hot fries, it was Sam that stopped you when he spoke up. “No, but I mean it, Y/N. You really are a good person.” Sam voice was trying to be serious, yet it was soft enough, as if he was trying to tell you something more. You gave him a smile of appreciation, finding his words rather touching. He rarely spoke to you like this, wanting to keep things between you professional. But it made something spark in you to hear that he thought of you as a good friend. Sam reached down to take a bite of his burger, which soon turned into a man who had never eaten one before in his life. “Mmm! The bread alone!”

You shook your head as you let out a small laugh from his reaction, it seemed that he wanted to steer away from salads for a while for something his brother would have picked. It's not like he needed to try and work so hard. The both of you talked while you slowly ate your meal, mostly he kept the conversation on normal topics as Sam let you do most of the talking. He was a good listener,  you told a few stories about hunting on your own before joining the boys and even about when you were still in school. Things between you haven't been this personal before, as over the past year, there hasn't been much time to have a little heart to heart. Maybe it was the inner girl that was making you blush ever so slightly at this moment.

 Sam had met a lot of different hunters through his life of hunting, and you were sure he’d met a lot of pretty girls during his time, some which might still haunt him to this day. He told you briefly about a girl named Jess when he was in college, both of them had been going steady until she was killed in a fire that was caused by Azazel, the yellow eyed demon who ruined the boys life. And then he had said there was another woman named Madison that he briefly started to take a personal liking for. But whenever you tried walking about it with him when it was brought up, Sam gotten all defensive, immediately wanting to change the subject. You didn’t press on any further, and from the conversation that Dean casually brought up at lunch yesterday, Sam wasn’t looking for anything serious. He might be young, but he was a drifter, with no intentions of settling down.

 The both of you continued on eating in mostly light talk, focusing mostly on the atmosphere that seemed different than normal. You kept your gaze mostly on your plate, but whenever you glanced up to take a drink from your beer, you noticed that he was staring at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention. And when your eyes happened to wander over to him, he would bashfully turn his head away, as if he was trying not to get caught. You looked at him from the corner of your eye and raised a brow, curiously wondering what he was up to. Sam opened his mouth to try and say something, and while it came out as “Uh...I, um—So…” He attempts soon died off when he decided the effort was worth it. You gave him another chance, thinking it might have been something important, but he shrugged it off as nothing.

 “We’re good friends, right?” Sam asked you out of the blue.

 “I would hope so. I mean, I spend almost every waking moment with you and your brother.” You said, a small chuckle escaping you as you took another sip of your beer. You slowly let your laugh die off as Sam kept staring at you with a serious expression, you licked your lips. “Why?”

 “And what about Dean? Are you two dating?” You found yourself choking out your beer when you made the mistake of taking another sip. Sam’s question took you by surprise, causing you to let out a laugh if you weren’t in the middle of washing down your dinner. Dean might have given a few the idea that you might have been a couple from how many things you had in common, along with the constant teasing he brought on. But he was like your older brother. You only saw him as another hunter. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“What possessed you to ask that?” You wondered as you managed to clean up any sort of liquid that escaped your mouth.

 “Uh, I was just wondering.” Sam said, shrugging off your concern. You balled up the damp napkins and glanced up to see him smirking to himself, as if he'd gotten the exact answer that he was hoping for. He quickly snapped out of thoughts and looked over at you. Pointing a finger over his shoulder, he suddenly needed to leave. "I'll be right back. I'm gonna go release the hostages."

 “TMI, Sammy.” You muttered at him. You gave him a playful wink as he gave you a weak smile, he made a mental note to himself not to say that again if he wanted to keep this going. You watched as he headed for the bathrooms that were right behind you in the bar, disappearing into the crowd that was slowly starting to grow bigger as the dinner rush started to arrive. You kept yourself busy by reaching for your beer as you reached for your phone. You patted around in your pocket where you always kept it, but you noticed that it was gone, you thought you might have left it back at the motel. As you reached out to eat one of your lukewarm fries, you noticed a hand was being greedy at stealing what few remained. “Get your own fries, Winchester.”

 You slapped Dean's hand away, making flinch back at what you'd done, not exactly you to be so territorial of your food. You smiled in victory as you popped another fry into your mouth. “So, how's your little date with Sam going?"

 You rolled your eyes at Dean’s cheap attempt at of trying to tease you, which had turned into an ongoing theme over the past few months. One night you gotten drunk with Dean at a bar, trying to be his wing woman so he could quit whining about the dry spell he was having. The town you were staying in didn't have what he was looking for, so it ended with the both of you enjoying each other’s company and drinking until the room started spinning. While you woke up the next morning with the absolute worst headache, Dean felt completely fine, he even told you about what you had rambled on about while you were under the influence. He mentioned something about how you thought his little brother was smart, handsome and a total catch. He’d been harassing you about it until this very day.

 “Just peachy. He confessed his love to me and we’re going to get hitched in Vegas. Wanna come?” You asked him as your voice dropped with sarcasm. He let out a slight chuckle as he leaned against the table to and sipped his beer. You could see the shake of the head and he rolled his eyes, obviously not amused with your answer as you had been. “What are you getting at Dean? Sam’s my hunting partner. I—”

 “Oh my God. You two are so much alike it's creepy sometimes. He said the exact same thing.” Dean muttered. You furrowed your brow and looked at him with a slightly confused look. The Winchester quickly eyed the bar, taking notice his brother was spending a rather unusual amount of time in the bathroom, giving him the perfect opportunity to play matchmaker. “Look, I’m not dumb. I may have a terrible track record with women, but I know puppy love when I see it. And Sam’s just oozing with it when he's around you.”

 “No, he's not.” You brushed off what Dean had said to flick a piece of hair out of your face and looked around the room, trying to find anything just smallest enough to start a conversation.

 “Yeah, he does. You're just too stuck in your head to see it. I mean, you know how many times he told me how much he enjoys hunting with you? Or how smart you are? He tripped over himself trying to not make an ass out of himself when he first met you. Granted, he really wasn't himself back then. Still...he told me himself of how much he likes you. I mean, really likes you. The guy hasn't been like this about a girl since…” Dean told you straight of how his little brother viewed you. When you heard him trail off, you could see the bit of happiness spark in his eyes, hopeful something good would come of this from what he was about to say. “Well, Jess.”

 The name took you by surprise, as you knew how much Jess had meant to Sam. She was someone he had met during his few years at Stanford, the woman he was going to marry after tagging along on a hunting trip when their father went missing. He told you a little bit about her, and while it had been a bit painful to remember, he was at peace for what happened. But Sam was head over heels in love with the woman. The woman he wanted to spend a normal life with. You were a hunter, someone that was compatible with if this day continued on turning out to be Twilight Zone episode.

 “I’m sure he said those things to be nice—”

 “Sweetheart, my brother is a lot of things. But one thing I know about him is that he becomes a truthful son of a bitch when I get him drunk. He told me while you were doing that solo hunt down in Pennsylvania. He said how worried he was about you. Then...it all came out. You should have seen it. It was cute to see him admit that he's crazy about you, Y/N. Dean said. You inhaled a deep breath from what you were hearing as a small smile spread across your lips. “The only reason why he hasn't made a move is because of this whole apocalypse. What might happen if somebody gets wind that Sam likes a girl. He's scared of you getting hurt. But I saw screw that. Life's short. Get what you want.”

 Dean’s words were for more the just you and his little brother, it was advice that he could have used a month and a half ago. Jo was her name, while the both of the hunters had flirted back and forth, things took a tragic turn when her life ended. But Dean was right. Hunting wasn't a career you did for a few decades before you retired. One day you're hunting, the next you're dead. If Dean was right about this, which, why would he lie to you? He had grown to be like your surrogate big brother. The man wanted you and his little brother to just be happy.

 “Okay.” You admitted, knowing there was no point in denying the feelings you had for the man. You only lived once, and Dean was right, you had to get what you wanted. “I’ll ask him out first. We’ll take it from there.”

 “Atta girl.” Dean gave you a wink as he turned around to nudge your knee with his own.

 So you waited for Sam to get back from the bathroom. And waited. And waited. Fifteen minutes or so passed when you looked over at the clock to see what was taking the man so long. Your nerves were beginning to get the best of you. What if he said no? God, what if he said…”I like you, Just not like that.” Which you would respect. You let out a quiet sigh, knowing your mind was getting the best of you. If it was meant to be, it’ll happen.

 Dean had headed back to the bar a few minutes ago to get a refill, thinking he was going to be here a bit longer after some pretty brunette came walking in here by herself. You looked over your shoulder to see where Sam could have been, maybe he was at the bar himself trying to get another round, but he wasn't there. You furrowed your brow and looked straight ahead, from where you were sitting you had a perfect view of the exit. Strangely enough, you spotted Sam’s hard to miss large frame heading for the double doors. But he wasn't alone. You could feel your stomach drop when he was being pulled out by a woman that looked to have had a good fifteen years on him. He caught your gaze, and in a surprising move, the man gave you a grin as he pointed his thumbs up, as if you should have encouraged him.

 “We’re gonna do it!” He whispered with delight.

 You looked at him a bit funny, but you managed to snap yourself out of it, not dwelling on the sheer second of happiness that you once thought could have been. Your mind began wandering, thinking about how strange Sam has been acting over the past day and a half. It wasn't because he didn't reciprocate the same feelings as you when he decided to go off with that woman. It was how bad at driving he suddenly became, the attitude. Hell, the drinking and eating a burger was all out of character for him. And you doubt Sam going off with that woman was a way of making you feel jealous. Suddenly you didn't feel so sad anymore.

+ + +

 He didn't return until midnight. Sam, whoever this person was, lurked in the darkness of the motel room, trying to find his way around. He fumbled a bit, but never managed to wake the sleeping body in the bed. The stranger found a loaded pistol just lying on the untouched sheets, a smirk spread across his lips, silently thinking to himself of how easy this was going to be. He never shot off a gun before, but he’d never been six foot four before with a masculine body. Today was all about doing the unexpected. He took a few timid steps forward to the bed, unaware of the chair, and put his finger on the trigger. He sucked in a breath and pushed down on the trigger, preparing himself for the noise that was to come.

 But there was nothing. Nothing but a faint clicking sound. Gary furrowed the man’s brow and tried again, thinking it might have gotten jammed. Still, nothing.

 Suddenly he felt a grip around the barrel of the gun, and before he could realize what was happening, someone punched him directly in the face, taking him by absolute surprise. He felt one of his legs swing up from behind him, making him panic slightly as he thought he was about to fall backwards, but someone grabbed ahold of him by the collar of his shirt and sent him forward to a much lower level. His eyes adjusted to the darkness to see that he was staring directly at a familiar face, it was you. "You're not Sam." You hissed at him, he could hear the venom dripping in your voice as your eyes narrowed on him suspiciously. "Who the hell are you?"

 “Ow!” Gary shouted, affected by the pain that quickly settled in.

 You weren't feeling sympathetic from the punch, you were going to do far more worse things to him than you could imagine. Gary could tell from that scary look on your face that his gig was up. But before he could try and explain himself, there was a sharp pain to the back of his head, and his vision went black.

+ + +

“You have thirty-eight messages.”

“This is gonna sound crazy—really crazy—but, um, I think I’m in the wrong body.”

“Y/N, the guy right next to you and Dean is not me!”

“Y/N, check your friggin’ voicemail. Damn it.”

You cradled the motel phone against your ear, listen to just a few of the voicemail that had been left on all of your cell phones, which had magically seemed to disappear from sight. Dean took a few minutes to see if this pubescent voice that was on the other line claiming to be the younger Winchester explain what was going on. Dean stood next to you and watched the body he tied to chair, slowly beginning to come back into consciousness. You looked over at Dean and nodded your head slowly, informing that you had gotten the same kind of messages. Your first guess at what was going on was demonic possession, but Sam's tattoo was intact, and his body didn't react to the holy water you'd splashed on him. And he wasn't a shifter when you pressed a silver knife against his skin. Sam appeared to be himself, but he wasn't...himself. This was some weird, "Freaky Friday" stuff if you had to give your honest opinion.

 "All right, pal." Dean started talking when you hung up the phone, not needing anymore evidence to figure out that something dangerous wrong was happening here. He walked forward to the man that appeared to be his brother as he slowly rose from consciousness. "Either you start talking or I start waterboarding."

 “Oh, my God. Please, don’t hurt me. Please! I’m sorry!” The stranger wasted no time in pleading for his life, thinking you would have actually done something to hurt him. You would have, but you didn’t want to ruin such fine packaging. “I’m so, so sorry!”

 "Okay. Hey," Dean was taken back himself at how easy the kid gave up in defeat. He leaned over and slapped a supportive hand on his shoulder, it only made the stranger jump in fright, thinking he was going to harm him. "Pull it together, champ."

 “I don’t want to die.” He muttered as his eyes glazed over. “I don’t want to die.”

 “Where’s Sam?” You asked the stranger, not beating around the bush.

 “In my—my friend’s basement.” The stranger explained to you. “His parents are out of town.”

 “Parents?” You repeated after him, finding the answer was nothing you would have suspected. You slowly looked over at Dean as your brow furrowed even closer together. As if things weren’t getting any weirder, you decided to figure out who this person was that was walking in the younger Winchester’s skin. “How old are you?”

 “Seventeen.” He told you.

 Your eyebrows shot up from the answer you would have never guessed, "Seventeen? You’re a—”

 Before you could finish your sentence, you could feel yourself being thrown across the room, giving you a sensation of weightlessness, but the feeling only lasted when your body roughly hit not a wall, but the mirror of the dresser. Shards of glass pricked at your skin as you landed on the carpeted ground, you could feel it for a moment, your other senses were being bombarded with too many things at once. Your head was pounding as a trickle of blood seeped out from your wound. The sound of someone shouting your name could be heard, all before Dean was thrown into the same predicament. It seemed there was a special guest who wanted to make a terrible first impression.

You winced in pain as you tried to roll over on your back to figure out who the hell managed to get into the motel room without you or Dean realizing it. Whoever it was sure wasn’t here for good intentions. You sucked in a breath and forced your eyes open. From across the room you noticed a teenage girl was standing right next to Sam, but it wasn’t hard to see from the inky black eye color and how she was talking about promises, she a demon. She didn't waste anytime in freeing Sam's body from the ropes and helping up to his feet. You noticed her back was turned to you, without thinking of the consequences, you forced yourself to move to your stomach, so you could army crawl to the duffel bag that just so happened to be lying on the floor.

 It seemed the demon was here strictly for business, but this was more than just about some measly demon deal. The kid switched bodies with Sam because he wanted to be all mighty and powerful, in exchange, he would take Sam's body to the Devil himself so he could get exactly what he wanted. It'd be a win, win. But it seemed the kid was having a bit of cold feet as he tried to back out of this. It seemed playing with dark magic had its downfall. You snatched the demon knife out from the bag and pushed yourself to your feet, thinking you might have a chance at taking her by surprise. You didn't want to really hurt the poor girl as your arm swung up just in time for the demon to figure out what you were doing. But you never really had a chance to feel that regret when she grabbed you by the arm and threw you against the ground.

 “I was having a very important conversation. Didn’t your parents teach you manners, little girl?” The demon asked you, as if you were going to respond. You found it comical that she viewed you younger, as she was possessing the body of a teenage girl that was at least six years younger than you. But the demon decided to show her strength in choosing a young meat suit when she started kicking your tender stomach, not caring for the little noises you were making. You pretended to endure the pain, little did she realize that you were mumbling the fifty words of latin that would save the day. Yet it was getting harder when she didn’t stop. You stuttered the words, but it seemed the stranger knew a thing or two.

 You could feel the pain in your stomach suddenly stop when the demon realized the person she’d been working with turn against her. The man that took over Sam’s body continued on with the exorcism, focusing the demon’s attention over to him, and then getting the wrath that was brought from trying to send the black-eyed bitch to Hell where she belonged. She grabbed Sam by the throat, but you didn’t let her hurt the man. You managed to push yourself to your feet, and working through the pain, you finished the exorcism, before somebody could be left with more than just bruised and cut up bodies.

 You smirked at the demon with blood stained lips, "Adios, bitch."

“Uh,” The stranger looked over at you, deciding it’d be the best time to correct your Spanish. “It’s Audi nos.”

+ + +

 The man that you had been spending all day and late last night with wasn't in fact Sam Winchester, but a teenage boy named Gary Frankle. He told everything that had happened before his friend had come back around, thankfully, unharmed from the possession. She was curled up on the motel bed with a soft blanket around her. You sat next to her and gave you a reassuring smile. The girl was obviously freaked out from everything that had happened, as she learned a valuable lesson about dabbling with Satanic rituals for something that wasn't much worth it. Being a teenager was far harder than you remembered. At least you knew the consequences of what would happen if you tangled with demons and the Devil himself.

 Sam had came back to the motel after somehow getting himself out of the bonds Gary’s friends had tied him up in. It seemed that being a scrawny teenager had its advantages. Now the two sat in the middle of the floor, trying to reverse the damage that had been done. Gary sprinkled a bit of the herbs he needed into the pot, continuing on with the ritual as he changed something in Latin you didn’t quite understand. You reached up a hand to shield your eyes when a bright light suddenly filled up the entire room for a brief moment before fading away.

 Sam looked down at himself for a brief moment as he lifted up his arms, trying to remember what it felt like to be in control again. You watched as the man pushed himself to his feet and headed over to the mirror, wanting to see it with his own eyes. "So," You pushed yourself slowly to your feet as you quietly hissed in pain. "We all good?"

 “Yeah. We’re good” Sam said. The real Sam that you have missed over the past forty-eight hours was in his own skin again. You felt yourself growing a small smile, happy for everything to be back to normal. “Oh, man, it’s nice to be back.”

 “Yeah. Awesome.” Gary muttered. He obviously wasn’t too pleased to be back to his normal physique that was nothing like the younger Winchester's, but it was a lesson he learned. The teenager pushed himself to his feet and turned around to face you and Dean. You crossed your arms over your chest and looked at him straight in the eye. Oh, the trouble he was in. But Gary thought some half-assed apology was going to be enough to get him off the hook. “Yeah. I know—my bad.”

You let out a chuckle as you raised a brow from his answer. "Oh, kid. You have some nerve. ‘My bad’ ain’t gonna cut it. The things you put us through over the past few days…”

“You deserve a good ass kicking, kid. But we’re not monsters. See, if you were of voting age, you’d be dead. Because we would kill you.” Dean told the kid straight out. Gary was taken back from the answer. He looked over at you with a bit of surprise, thinking you might have been trying to scare him, but you nodded your head at the plan if he were just a bit older. “So either you straighten up and fly right or we will kill you. Are we clear?”

Gary vigorously nodded his head, “Crystal.”

"Good. Now get out of my sight." Dean said. Slipping a hand inside his pocket, you felt your arms stretching out so you could catch the keys to the Impala when Dean decided to throw them in your direction. "Y/N, take them home. I'll clean up this mess."

"Wait, really?" You clutched the cold metal in your hands, feeling like Dean had just handed you a million dollars. Baby was his most prized possession. He wouldn't let anyone drive it, not even you. But it seemed that he was starting to warm up to the idea.

 "Yes, really. Only on two conditions. You don't crash her, 'cause I will kill you. And second, life's short. I know it's what you've been dying to do." Dean said. You clutched the keys tighter, knowing exactly what he was trying to do. You gave him a small smile, the man returned it with a wink when his little brother wasn't looking.

+ + +

It started to rain when you slid yourself into the driver's side of the Impala, but that didn't let you stop from enjoying every single second of this precious car. Nora gave you directions to their friend's house, where his dead body still laid. You told them a bogus story to tell the police, that should have been enough of a punishment for the both of them for what they did. When you saw the house Gary pointed at to you, you slowly pulled the Impala into the driveway, cutting off the engine. All of you slipped out of the car and back into the pouring pain. You clutched your jacket tighter, watching as Nora began walking to the front door, Gary lingered behind, still pouting at the life he was forced to go back to. 

“Gary, look.” Sam stopped the teenager, deciding it wouldn't hurt to leave the young man with a few words of wisdom to help cheer him up. “Take it from someone who knows—chin up, man. Your life ain't that bad.”

 “Uh, you met my parents.” Gary said.

 “Yeah. So what? It's your life. You don't like their plan for you, tell them to cram it. Rebel a little bit.” Sam said. “In a healthy, non-satanic way, of course.”

 “By the way,” You leaned over the car to give the younger man a piece of advice coming from the opposite gender that he probably still had no clue of how they functioned. You nodded your head at Nora, who was quietly waiting for Gary, and gave him a smile when the both of them made eye contact. “You know why Nora’s into witchcraft? She doesn’t like Satan, you moron. She likes you.” 

"Really?" Gary asked, a little taken back at the assumption. A small smile spread across his lips as he bashfully looked over at his friend. "You—You think?"

 "She followed you into making a deal with a demon and then got possessed by one. Yet, she's still friendly towards you. Yeah," You nodded your head to give him the reassurance he was hoping for. "I think she likes you."

 "I'm telling you, kid—I wish I had your life." Sam said. Gary honestly didn't believe the man, but it seemed the younger Winchester was truly envious of the lifestyle he was never given. "Get out of here."

 Gary gave all of you an apologetic smile for the trouble that he had caused before he was joining his friend. When the two of them disappeared, you looked over at Sam, just as the rain began to pour down even harder. “That was a nice thing for you to say.”

 “I totally lied. That kid’s life sucked ass.” Sam admitted a second later, you let out a quiet laugh from his honest response. Not everything was what it was made out to be. You watched as Sam decided it was time to get inside the Impala after he was starting to get soaked from standing out in the rain for too long. You followed not too long after him and got back into the driver's side. “All that apple-pie, family crap? It’s stressful. Trust me—I didn’t miss a damn thing.”

 "It's not all that bad. I mean, sometimes I miss some aspects of it." You retorted back. Sam looked over at you, a bit thrown off guard from your response. You outstretched your arms and placed them on the wheel. "I mean, I know I'm never gonna have the white picket fence and kids. That’s just the consequences of hunting. And I'm fine with that. But there’s some things that I can still feel from my old life.”

 “Like, what?” Sam asked.

 "Like...have you ever wanted something so bad, but you were afraid to go after it? You were so scared of what might happen, you just keep yourself at the sidelines. I mean, I'm a damn good hunter. I can go just after anything/ But this is...This is stupid." You found yourself somehow going off course from what you were about to say. The words were at the top of your tongue. You've practiced them during the entire drive here. It sounded so easy in your head, but getting yourself do it was so much harder. When you found the courage to look at Sam, he was amused from how you were acting in front of him. He asked you what you were talking about to try and see what was making you so flustered. “It’s just...seeing Gary and Nora. It got me thinking. That’s all.”

 “About what, Y/N?” The younger Winchester pressed you a bit harder. You looked over at him to see that his expression had changed. It turned into a softer one, like how it always did when you and him got speaking into deeper conversation. You still kept your lips pressed shut as you slightly shook your head. “Come on. Nothing you say is stupid. You can tell me anything and I won’t look at you any differently.”

 You tightened your grip around the steering wheel, the words he told you fueled the fire in your stomach that was starting to grow with butterflies. The rhythm of rain hitting the roof of the Impala chimed in with your rapidly beating heart. You turned your head slightly to look at Sam from the corner of your eye, you took notice of how handsome he looked with his damp hair pushed back after he ran his fingers through it. Biting your bottom lip slightly, you let out a sigh, knowing you were going to regret what you were about to do. But like Dean had said, if you wanted something, you had to just go get it. You couldn't die with regret.

 Sam opened his mouth to try and tease the answer out of you, thinking it was something stupid about your teenage years. He was going to make a remark about you being into some satanic stuff, but he never quite got the chance to even let the first word out. He felt himself leaning slightly back in his seat when he felt your weight shift onto his body. Without a warning, you pressed your lips against his, giving into the desire that had been growing in you for over the past year and a half. You felt your eyelids flutter shut, enjoying the sweet taste of everything about him, along with the rain droplets that had remained on him. You wanted to stay like this forever, but reality came on knocking, and you realized what the hell you were doing.

 “Oh, my God.” You muttered underneath your breath, cowardly pressing yourself against the driver's side door as your eyes began to grow big. You didn't realize you had decided to launch yourself at Sam. Ever so slowly, you looked over at the younger man to see what sort of deviation you had caused. You could feel your cheeks ignite with fire at the sight of him staring at you with widening eyes, not sure of what happened. "Oh, my God. I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. It's just...You—No, Gary. I'm an idiot for listening to your brother. He told me that you really liked me. And I really like you. Then something about going after what you wanted. So I thought, what the hell? It's just...this is stupid. I'm so—"

 You tried your hardest to apologize for what you'd done, thinking you had ruined a friendship and hunting partnership. You wanted to crawl out of the car and die in a corner, but it seemed that Sam didn't a chance to show you how he was going to respond. Your words became muffled when you felt his lips coming down on yours after he turned your head to look at him. The second time around of kissing Sam Winchester was so much better. You felt yourself melting into his embrace as your eyelids fluttered shut, enjoying every single second of this moment that you thought would never come. Sam kissing you back was a good thing, right? Or how he opened his mouth and slightly growled when he tried pulling you closer to him. You'd hadn't had many chances at kissing different boys, but one thing for sure, Sam was the absolute best. He wouldn't let you go, disregarding the fact that the both of you were still in Gary's driveway, and you were running out of air in your lungs.

You pressed your hands on the man's chest, giving yourself a moment to enjoy the feeling of foreign territory, but that's not why you were touching him there. You managed to get yourself out of the hunter's grip and inhale a deep breath that you'd been needing. You stared at him with half hooded eyes and tried your hardest to figure out what you were saying. But you weren't exactly sure. You were concentrating on the sight of Sam with slightly swollen lips, and how his chest kept heaving up and down as he tried to catch his breath.

 "Nothing you do is stupid, Y/N. You're one of the, if not, the smartest hunter I've ever met." Sam spoke up, a small smile spread across your lips at his compliment. He knew there was more to say as he shifted around in his spot when the cat was out of the bag. "And...y-yeah. I do like you. It's just, people like me—we don't get happy endings. I’m not a good person. There’s things about me that you shouldn’t have to see. The people I love tend to die pretty viciously."

 “Sammy, you tend to forget that I’ve seen you at your very worst. I’ve seen you when you were hooked on the demon blood. I know you’re supposed to be the Devil’s vessel.” You said. Sam winced slightly at what you had brought up, as they weren’t the man’s best moments. Reaching out a hand, you squeeze his. “But that doesn’t mean you’re getting rid of me that easily. I would kind of like to see what could happen if we don’t let the world end.”

 “Who says we have to wait until it’s over?” Sam asked.

 You glanced over at the man to see that he was staring at you with a smirk. It didn’t take much for you to lean over and press your lips against his, deciding for this moment, you would forget about the world around you. You didn’t realize how cramped the Impala was, but with a quick shift of the seats, you were sitting comfortably in Sam’s lap. You gave him a soft giggle as you bent down to press his lips against his, wanting to spend a few more minutes on the theory that Sam was a good kisser. As you were barely millimeters from his, you stopped at the sound of a phone going off. You leaned back and looked at Sam with a confused expression. You thought all of your phones had been thrown out, all except for one. The younger Winchester managed to have found a single flip phone that had managed to slip underneath the seat. As he flipped it open to answer, you heard that it was Dean, and he wasted no time into what mattered.

“I’m guessing the reason why you two are taking forever is because you’ve finally come to your senses. And while that’s great and all, let’s get one thing straight. You guys bone in my car, and I’ll kill you. Now, get your asses back here.”

[howdoyoudothedew]

Long post of SPN story ideas, anyone can use these

Sabriel plus Jess. Sam wasn't one for polyamourus relationships. He was fine with others who were in one, it just wasn't his thing. Then Jess and him meet Gabriel. - He already know Jess is okay with that kinda thing, she's been in two before - She's the one that approaches him, because she knows that he likes him and frankly, she's kinda falling for the short trickster too. 1- Gabriel comes back, and Sam is pissed. He's all fire and fury, ready to haul back and punch the archangel right in the face. He walks with a purpose. A purpose he doesn't fully know, but his body seems to. The rage flowing hot through his blood seems to know what to do. Then he's standing in front of Gabriel. And Gabriel is simply stating up at him, prepared to take anything. Willing to take every hit. And Sam can feel all that anger at Gabriel sacrificing himself for him bleed out of his body. Suddenly he's clutching at Gabriel's shirt and crying into his shoulder, all puffy eyes and snotty nose. "Again. Why? I'm not worth it." "You're worth a thousand deaths." Gabriel just wraps his arms around his shoulders, holds him close, and let's him cry for as long as he needs. 2- Rumpleskultsen sabriel au 3- Sam and Gabriel do meet in Tall Tales and get to know each other... Biblically. Gabriel has a kid before Mystery Spot, where he tries to teach Sam a lesson because he can't loose the idiot. And somehow, during the confrontation, it comes out. 5- Gabe and Balt doing the trombone drive by 6- Gabe and Luce doing the Fuck You Baltimore thing 7- Leaked footage of Gabriel in the Empty: The clip of Mushu trying to wake all the ancestors 8- Jack Winchester secretly adopts a kitten 9- Jess is a hunter, assigned by angels to keep Sam and Dean, vessels of the apocalypse, safe. Her little sister has been tasked with keeping Dean safe while she has Sam. One night her sister breaks into their apartment to tell her that Dean has gone missing. Maybe also include the demon thing I wanted to do with Velvet for Jess? And that's the true reason the demon went with Brady? 10- Loki and Gabriel switch places. 11- "I was your favourite older brother in heaven." "I don't remember that." "What do you mean you don't??" "What I remember is having to ask Lucifer(or Raphael) to --- "So you do remember!" "Not at all." "You petty little fledgling." "I am not a fledgling anymore, Gabriel." "You're acting like one." "That's rich coming from you." 12- What if they unbound Death from Lucifer? Wouldn't he of killed the archangel? 13- Hunter!Jess, Jess/Charlie 14- Castiel runs from the chapel in an arranged marriage, and Dean packs a duffle bag and follows him. 15- Team Free Will walking in on Ro and Gabe Sam, internally: Am I jealous?? Gabe, internally: Is he jealous?? 16- Sabriel where they meet at comicon where Gabe is dressed as pool and Sam as Spidey. People ask for shippy pictures of them together. 17- Established relationship Destiel gangster AU, Cas goes missing 18- A girl hits on Sam and Gabe gets jealous, established relationship, definitely contains angst 19- Sabriel based on the song Photograph, possibly even as a coda for Exodus episode 20- "Sorry I'm late, I was doing stuff." Gabriel sauntered in a few seconds after that, hair ruffled to a mess that looked like he just ran a hand through it to -barely- get it back under control. The top two buttons on his shirt were buttoned into the holes right under the top two holes, the rest of the buttons following suit. His cheeks were flushed, lips red and puffy, and a few dark purple spots graced the bottom of his neck. "I'm stuff," he breathed the words, a self-satisfied smirk on his face. Sam reddened, his skin now the colour of his flannel, and stumbled over words that wouldn't come out. Though a squeak did manage to escape when Gabe smacked him lightly on the ass. 21- It's called 'Promise Me' The summary says: Gabriel really wished Sam wouldn't make him promise something he wouldn't be able to keep. Gabe comes back, Sam does his thing. "Don't ever die on me again." "I promise." Gabriel faces down death. "I'm sorry." "No!" And Sam dies instead. 22- Fic called either 'I need more dreams and less reality' or Give me more dreams, less reality' for angsty Sabriel with dead Gabriel and may or may not contain happy ending where he comes back I just don't know Happy Sabriel with hints of it not being true only for it to be a dream in the end because I'm an ass 24- I have found the one whom my soul loves. SoS 1:4- Destiel 25- Sam flirting + being embarrassed by Dean Season one, Sarah Blake Season one, Tall Talls 26- Dean is born without a soulmark, but when he comes back from the dead the handprint makes a fairly compelling one. 27- All I want is a fanfiction about when Cas is possessed by Lucifer, and for some reason Luci kisses Dean. And it's their (Destiel's) first kiss. The whole time Cas is inside pleading and begging him not to. Dean kisses back. 28- The after math of Litra's Sacrifice. Written solely because I was curious about how it could affect the rest of the story. As the day went on, Sam felt some of the soreness return. It was a pretty minuscule amount, but it made him smile. It helped cement in his brain the fact that last night, all of it, had been completely and utterly real. He wasn't sure why that made him happy. ---- Later when Cas comes back, he has to pause. Something is different about Sam and it doesn't take him long to figure out what. He has a claim on him, one different from the claim of Lucifer's vessel, something stronger and pagan, yet not quite fully pagan. Somehow Sam is lucky enough for Cas to show the tact to not ask abut it in front of Dean. -Changing Channels- Sam felt Loki's presence as soon as they left the car. It made him pause, though it wasn't fully of worry for what would come next. He felt a wave of calm pass over him. (Which confused him, but he didn't tell Dean.) Something in him told him not to tell Dean. He's not sure why he listened to it. -Hotel- "Little brother, laying claim to my vessel? How ambitious of you," Lucifer sneered. "And how very, very stupid." "Oh." Lucifer turned on Dean, "And you've been claimed by Castiel." He returned his gaze to Gabriel, though it was only from the corner of his eye. The confusion radiating from the elder Winchester was much too fun a thing to watch for him to remove his full attention from him. "You and Cas sure had fun while me and Mickey've been gone." 29- Gabe keeps calling Sam more and more ridiculous nicknames, so Sam calls Gabe shortcake (or short stack) - This should be a fanfiction. Called 'Nicknames'. 30- Sabriel and Destiel hanahaki disease- it takes angels a longer time to truly develop it, as their body is constantly healing itself. But when Cas first becomes human, it truly manifests. 31- Soulmate AU colours where Sam knows that Gabe is still alive because he never loses his colours. They fade slightly, but they never go away. Something in him tells him not to tell Dean, not to tell anybody, for the safety of all those involved. - The first time, when the Trickster dies, and Sam still sees colour, he dismisses it. Maybe it's a fluke or something. 32- Don't you go quietly into that good night, Castiel. You fly and you fight that good night, Castiel. Because us on earth need you from that good night, Castiel. 33- Impala, hand on Dean's chest: you rebuilt me. I just about fell apart multiple times, and each time you remade me. (Possible Dean as a parallel to Cas with the Impala being a parallel to Dean) Later: Does that sound familiar? 34- Chuck creates a flower: Amara, Amara! Look, I made this for you! *Chuck hands it to her, and when Amara touches it the flower turns to ash in her hands* Chuck creates ----: Amara, Amara! Look, I made this for you! *It turns to ash in Amara's hands* Chuck creates ----: Amara, look! I made this for you! *It turns to ash in Amara's hands* Chuck creates life: Amara, look. I made this for you. *It turns to ash in Amara's hands* Chuck creates Amara's prison: Amara, I made this for you. -im sorry 35- Sam: Why do you keep stealing my flannel? Gabe: Why'd you steal my jacket? (They keep on asking these questions until one of them says: Well why'd you steal my heart? Pre-slash, getting together, mutual pining?, crack) 36- Sam's Many Hookups Gabe meets up with Sam as different women