#usually dean’s the self-sacrificing one so in a final act of love cas took his place. okay | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

supersleepygoat · 6 years ago

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Always and Never: The Epilogue

Pairings: Sam x Reader, Platonic Dean x Reader, Crowley x Reader

Word Count: 11, 400 (on the dot!)

Warnings: Angst. Imaginary Fluff. Implied Smut. Angst.

Summary: Set a few days after the final chapter. Sam dreams of the life he could have had with the Reader if he had only played his cards right from the beginning. When he wakes up from his bliss, reality hits him like a ton of bricks.

A/N: Commissioned by the amazing @arses21434! Thank you for giving me the chance to close out this series and go a little deeper. And, thank you to anyone who has stuck with this series. xo

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Series Masterlist

“Drop it, Sammy. I’m not going to tell you again.” Dean groans as he downs another hearty helping of whiskey. Dean is no longer even bothering with a glass. There’s no point. Drinking straight from the bottle cuts out the futile middleman. Dean will finish the bottle in one sitting. There’s no point in pretending otherwise.

“Why won’t you just tell me?” Sam begs his brother one last time. He has been bugging Dean about this for the past two days. Sam has to know. He has to know what happened between you and Dean while you were both demons. He has to know what the last few years of your life were like. He needs to know if you were happy.

Sam has never been a masochist. But for some reason, he craves the pain of knowing what you and Dean did together. He needs the pain. He deserves the pain. He needs to feed his guilt and remind himself that he is to blame for your death. He can’t let himself forget. He can’t let himself not feel it.

Dean ignores Sam, as he always does. Dean refuses to admit what he had done with you, to you, as a demon. He feels as though if he says it out loud, it will become real. It won’t be just another memory he can drown out with alcohol. Dean doesn’t want Sam looking at him like Dean looks at himself. So, Dean leaves Sam’s pleads unanswered.

In reality, Sam’s imagination is worse than any truth Dean could spout. Sam is tortured by flashes of unwelcomed thoughts and images his mind creates. But, Dean is too deep inside his bottle to realize the damage being done by his enduring silence.

“Dean!” Sam shouts with desperate fury.

Dean doesn’t even flinch. He takes another sip as if he cannot even hear his brother.

Sam’s rumination hits its breaking point. Sam lunges forward and pulls Dean out of his chair. He grabs Dean by the scruff of his shirt and pins him against the wall.

Dean doesn’t try to push his brother off of him. He doesn’t care if Sam takes a swing. He doesn’t care about anything right now. Dean is so far down his drunken spiral, Sam could pull a knife on him and he wouldn’t even blink. Dean’s regret and self-hatred almost makes him hope Sam does make a move and knock him out, if Dean was even capable of hope right now.

Dean looks up at Sam with sunken and empty eyes. His eyes have glazed over as he retreats into his memories. Sam was right. You were like a little sister to Dean. Had his soul not been twisted into the darkest version of itself, Dean never would have used you or your body in the way he had.

Dean has to remind himself that, at the time, you did enjoy it. You never told him to stop or slow down. Your inner demon begged for more. You even outlasted Dean and, as a demon, he was especially insatiable. But that knowledge doesn’t stop Dean from wishing his darkened soul never touched you. It doesn’t stop him from hating himself for enjoying it as much as he did.

Dean walked away from his time as a demon without a scratch on him. Meanwhile, you paid the ultimate price. It doesn't seem fair. Dean has scars, but none Sam can see. Dean must bear those invisible and open wounds for the rest of his life. He has to live with what he’s done. But he won’t make Sam do the same. So, Dean keeps his mouth shut. He waits for Sam to make his move.

“Are you even still in there?” Sam asks as he peers into Dean’s vacant eyes. He doesn’t see his brother looking back at him. Sam’s anger gives way to desperation. He lost you. And now, by the vacant look in Dean’s eyes, it appears he has lost his brother as well. Dean is a shell. An empty vessel. Sam almost misses the demon that was once inside Dean. The demon would give him answers. The demon had signs of life in his dark eyes. But as Sam looks at his brother, all he sees is a barren forest.

Dean doesn’t know how to respond to that question. Any answer he gives would sound like a lie. He lets out a tired sigh. “Go take a walk, Sammy.” Dean suggests. They both need space. Having both brothers confined to the bunker has created a toxic mix of grief in the air. Dean knows his brother could use a breath of fresh air.

Sam lets go of the scruff of Dean’s shirt and takes a step back. He realizes he isn’t going to get any answers from Dean. He won’t get anything from his brother. He won’t get any comfort or reassurance. Dean is just as lost as him, only for different reasons. Both brother’s grief is rooted in guilt. But, Dean’s is also rooted in shame. There is no shaking him out of that. Dean has to crawl out of that hole on his own.

Sam walks away without a word and Dean returns to his bottle.

You have been gone only two days. But, neither Winchester has any concept of time anymore. To them, time stopped when you did. Both brothers are too locked in their own grief and regret to understand the passage of time. They do not know it has only been a few days since you died, not a few lifetimes.

This is the second time you have died. But, this time it is final. The brothers have to start grieving all over again. Their old wounds are reopened and made a little deeper than they once were.

Neither brother has left the bunker since it happened, even to burn your body. Sam brought you back his room you. He also brought Kerry’s body back to her old room. She had bled out before anyone even knew she was gone. Sam laid her out on the bed and wrapped her in the bedsheet. He knows he is to blame for her death as well. He never should have called her and dragged her back into his life. He should have tried to cure you on his own.

The more Sam thinks about it, the more he realizes he never should have gotten involved with her in the first place. He cared about Kerry. She was everything he thought he wanted. And because he cared about her, she is dead.

As the two women in his life lay lifeless in their respective rooms, Sam recognizes the pattern all too clearly. It is more than simply bad luck, he is cursed. It is his fault the women in his life drop like flies. With the advantage of hindsight, Sam can see he lead you both to your death beds.

But, it is your bedside in which Sam spent his nights. He brought you to his room and let your skin cool on his sheets. Sam insisted on keeping you there until he found a demon willing to go against their King and offer Sam a deal. He would go to Crowley himself if it meant getting you back. Crowley would do it. Crowley would do anything to bring you back, even if it meant helping Sam.

But, Dean and Cas had other plans. Dean knew his brother was on the verge of a self-sacrificing decision. He knows that look in Sam’s eye because it is the same look you wore when you left the hospital the night Sam was injured.

Dean needs to put an end to the constant cycle of sacrifice and loss. You two cannot keep selling your souls for each other. Soon, there will be nothing be left to save. Dean hates that you are gone. But, he can’t bear the idea of Sam taking your place. Dean loves you. But, he loves Sam more. You would understand. Dean knows this is what you’d want.

Sam was sitting at your bedside, watching over your lifeless body, when he fell asleep. When he woke up, you were gone. Cas had taken yours and Kerry’s bodies away in the night. He gave you both a proper hunter’s burial and made sure your souls did not linger on this plane.

Dean asked Cas to do it alone. Dean knew neither him nor Sam could withstand another funeral for you. So, Cas spared the Winchesters of that burden. However, Sam did not see it that way. He saw Cas’ actions as a betrayal. To him, Cas took away his chance to save you once and for all.

As Sam’s behaviour became aggressive, Dean suggested Cas leave while Sam cooled down. Cas fluttered away after giving Sam a sincere apology he was not ready to hear.

That was two days ago. Sam is still lingering in the anger stage of his grief. But he can feel it starting to give way as he leaves the bunker. The anger is leaving him to make room for a kind of emptiness he has never known.

He finds himself at the nearest bar in town. Usually Sam wouldn’t come to a place like this without Dean, this is more his brother’s scene. But, Sam has not been feeling like himself lately, he hasn’t in years actually.

As Sam slumps in his barstool, he can feel the air shift around him. “She’s dead,” Sam says without looking up from his drink. This is the first time he’s said the words out loud. The words taste wrong on his lips so he washes that bitter taste down with his double whiskey.

“I know,” a gruff British accent says from the seat beside Sam. Crowley tries to mask the pain in his voice. A demon of his stature, a King nonetheless, should not concern himself with the life of one woman. But he does, you are his only concern.

“Are you here to kill me then?” Sam asks without a care in the world. In fact, a part of him is hoping Crowley will do what his is too much of a coward to do himself.

Crowley bites back his anger. He should do it. He wants to do it. But putting Sam out of his misery is not vengeance. Killing Sam now, while he is in this state, is an act of mercy. And, Crowley is not a merciful man. He wants Sam to suffer. Crowley wants Sam to spend the rest of his life knowing he is responsible for your death. Pettiness will not bring you back. It won’t ease Crowley’s grief. But seeing Sam in pain sure does take the edge off. Crowley is still a demon after all, and demons are notoriously petty creatures.

“Why would I do that, Sam?” Crowley asks with a detached and hollow voice. He sounds so unlike himself. There are no teasing nicknames or no hint of playful mocking in his voice. He has never sounded so earnest. “You’re better than dead, you wish you were dead. And, that’s good enough for me.”

It is not lost on Sam that Crowley is no longer calling him Moose, or even Samantha. Crowley is no longer capable of feigning joviality. They are no longer friends, if they ever were to begin with.

The two men share a common grief over you. They both loved you and they both could not save you. Any commonality beyond that is too far out of reach.

Sam does not respond to Crowley. He merely nods his understanding. He knows Crowley won’t end his suffering. But he had to ask.

The two men sit in silence for a long while. There is an understanding between them. Out of respect for you, neither man will draw their weapons tonight. They will sit and finish their drinks without incidence. They will mourn you in silence. These are the two men who loved you most. No one else will understand the extent of their loss.

The men drink and grieve without a word. They don’t even look at each other. They know that after tonight, any truce they carry on your behalf will wear itself thin. All bets will be off by dawn. Crowley will show Sam no mercy in reminding him who is really to blame for your death. But until that time comes, they drink.

After an hour or two of silent mourning, Crowley stands up from his seat. He’s had enough. He can no longer sit with your reaper.

Crowley remembers the bright sparkle that lived behind the black eyes he gave you. He thought he had the rest of eternity with you to uncover that light again. But, Sam robbed him of that chance. Crowley is not a fool. He knew you could never love him in the way you loved Sam. But, he didn’t care. You were his Queen, in every sense of the word. What you had together was twisted, yet true. No one can take that away from him.

“She wanted me to tell you that she was grateful for you. And, that she did love you in whatever way she could at the time,” Sam blurts out as Crowley starts to walk away.

Crowley doesn’t turn around to face him. But, he stops dead in his tracks. He expected Sam to mock his relationship with you. He expected the youngest Winchester to belittle the love Crowley has for you. Instead, Sam tells him exactly what he needed to hear.

Crowley is stunned into silence, so Sam continues. “She saw something in you that I will never understand. It bothered me. It still bothers me. It bothers me because you listened to her and treated her better than I ever did.” Sam is now mostly talking to himself. “I was jealous off the smile you were able to put on her face. She may have been a demon, but she was happy. That was never something I was able to give her. You were there for her when I wasn’t… thank you.”

Both men are surprised by the sincerity in Sam’s voice. Sam had no intention of saying all of that. But once the words started flowing he couldn’t stop them. He is forever grateful toward Crowley, and he is forever bitter toward him as well. Sam is not afraid to admit his jealousy and regret are getting the better of him now that you are not here to keep him in check.

Crowley glances over his shoulder as his desperation breaks down his resolve to stay silent. “Can I see her? Can I say goodbye?” Crowley whispers. He knows he sounds pathetic, but he no longer cares. Crowley can’t remember the last words you shared together. He can’t remember if he told you he loved you. All he can remember is Sam driving your unconscious body away from him, forever. He needs to say goodbye.

Sam looks down at his drink and shakes his head. “She’s already gone.” He gives Crowley the hard truth. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn’t get to say goodbye either.” Sam sits and waits for Crowley to twist the knife. He waits for the demon to lash out in anger. But, nothing comes. Sam looks up and sees that Crowley has disappeared.

The King is gone. He had to leave before he snapped and killed Sam here and now. He left before Sam saw the glossy pain in his eyes. Crowley is no longer able to share his grief with your killer. He left to go grieve you in his own way, which will no doubt involve bloodshed.

Sam leaves the bar shortly after Crowley’s disappearance. He doesn’t know what he was hoping to find here. But unlike Dean, he now knows he won’t find it at the bottom of a bottle. Sam shuffles out to the parking lot and gets into Baby’s front seat. He isn’t drunk, but he has had just enough alcohol to feel more than a little drowsy. Sam decides to sleep it off before he drives home.

“Wake up,” you poke Sam’s cheek as he sleeps peacefully beside you. You know you should let him rest. He’s had a hard few weeks. He barely got a moment’s rest while his brother was missing. And, once you found out Dean was a demon, things only got worse. Sam got in touch with his darker self. It is a side of him you never knew existed. But, you stuck by his side the entire time. You stopped him from falling too far over that edge. No matter how bad things got, you were always there to reel him in.

Sam groans and buries his face into the bare skin of your shoulder. He clings to your body heat as you wake him up against his will. “Five more minutes.” His words are muffled against your skin.

You wrap your arms around his neck and start stroking his hair. Sam begrudgingly opens his heavy eyes and looks up at you. You smile at the sleep-induced grumpiness that furrows his brows. You can’t help but let out a small giggle at that sight. Even when Sam tries to be grouchy, he still looks adorable.

“You always look like a cranky puppy whenever I wake you up,” you tease him.

“Maybe you should take it as a hint to quit waking me up,” Sam grumbles as he flops his head back onto your shoulder. But Sam does not fall back asleep, he starts nipping at your skin. His teeth quickly get you squirming beneath him. However, you aren’t trying to get away, the opposite actually.

“Ouch!” You laugh as Sam nips at you a little too hard. He lifts his head back up and give you a wicked smirk. All sleep is gone from his eyes. You poke the end of his nose. “Bad puppy! No teeth,” you scold him with feigned toughness in your voice.

Your words only cause Sam to lean down and bite you harder. You squeal before erupting into a fit of laughter. You know it annoys him when you call him ‘Puppy’, that’s why you do it.

Sam rolls on top of you while his mouth continues to lay it’s claim over your tingling skin. Now, you are actively trying to squirm away from him. He has taken it upon himself to tickle your sides without mercy, he knows it is your kryptonite. Sam grabs a hold of your hips and keeps you pinned to the mattress. He isn’t letting you out of this that easily. You started this.

“I surrender,” you all but scream as your laughter becomes uncontrollable.

“Shush,” Sam whispers as he takes his mouth off of you. “You’ll wake up Dean,” he smiles at you. Sam loves hearing you react to him. But, he also knows Dean is only a few doors down and in dire need of some rest.

“Too late,” you hear Dean’s sleepy voice call through your closed door as he shuffles down the hall toward the kitchen.

“Sorry!” You yell out as you bite your knuckles and look at Sam with a guilty smile. You didn’t mean to wake up Dean. “Oppsy,” your smile morphs into one of mischief.

“You’re not sorry.” Sam reads you like a book as he narrows his eyes at you.

“Yes, I am!” You defend yourself. You hate how he knows you so well, you can’t get away with anything.

“If you are so apologetic, then why are you trying to pull down my pajama pants?” Sam raises a teasing brow up at you as he looks down to where you are trying to pull his hardening length free.

You pull your hands up and raise them in a defensive position. “I was not!” you lie.

“Grabby and a liar?” Sam sucks in air through his teeth as he shakes his head at you. “What am I going to do with you? Someone should really teach you some manners,” Sam smirks as he lowers his lips down to yours.

“Put up or shut up, Winchester. I haven’t got all day,” you poke the bear. You love the playful glint that forms in Sam’s eyes when you get mouthy.

“I’ll keep you here for as long as I damn-well please,” Sam informs you with a demanding kiss.

You have missed this side of him. Lately, Sam has been consumed with finding and then curing his brother. You two haven’t had a chance to be together in the way you are used to.

Lately, anytime you have had sex, you have done it to relieve some of his tension. Before Dean went missing, you two would spend hours loving every inch of each other. Sometimes Dean wouldn’t see you two for days before you would finally emerge from your shared room. But, for the past little while, all you’ve gotten is a quickie once a week or so.

You and Sam have been together your entire lives. You grew up together. You left for college together. Sam went to class to invest in your future. And, you worked at the campus library to help pay for that future. Back then, you loved to tease him that you were the breadwinner between the two of you. You knew it bothered him. If it were up to Sam, you wouldn’t have lifted a finger once you got out of the hunting life. But he knew you weren’t the stay-at-home type of girl. You have always carried an equal load in this relationship. Always have, always will.

Despite the life you were building for yourselves, you followed Sam back into the hunting life. As soon as Dean broke into your shared apartment in Palo Alto, you realized you could never truly escape your old life. You helped the brothers find John, and then grieve John. You’ve been in it ever since.

As Sam lays atop you, he can’t remember the last time you were ever apart, or even fought. His life with you has been perfect from the start. As teenagers, it took him a while to admit his feelings for you. But once he did, you returned them in a heartbeat. You were always a constant in his life. You have always been there for him, and he for you.

You both knew that the rough patch you hit when Dean was demon would pass. Trying times never last with you two. You always find your way back to the light, no matter what.

And right on cue, things are back to how they should be. Dean is back and recovering nicely. You are back in Sam’s arms and he has all the time in the world to remind you just how temporary that rough patch was.

Sam tugs your body down so you are completely pinned beneath him. You tighten your arms around his neck and look deep into his hazel eyes. The soft smile on your lips makes Sam feel like he is the only man in the world. But it is also giving him a strange sense of déjà vu. He tries to shake it, but something about it is putting him on edge.

“I love you. You know that, right?” He whispers as he hovers over you. He doesn’t know why, but he feels the need to tell you that, to make you believe him. He also feels the need to ask for your confirmation.

You giggle softly at the intense shift in his eyes. “Of course, I know that.” You assure him with a smile. You lean up and give him a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth. His lips have formed into a thin and earnest line as he awaited your reassurance.

Your words seemed to have no effect on the worry in his eyes. You don’t know what caused the shift, but he went from teasing to serious in mere seconds. You’re starting to fear that you have done something to make him feel insecure.

“Are you sure? Because…” Sam trails off as he listens to an anxious voice inside his head. There is a nagging part of Sam that is telling him that you really don’t know just how much he loves you. It feels as though he has never gotten the chance to make you believe it. Something feels off.

Sam then feels your hand cup his jaw. His eyes blink as they refocus onto you.

“Where did you go?” You ask as you bring him out of his mind and back to reality. “What’s wrong?” The concern in your voice is increasing with every syllable.

“Nothing,” Sam lies as he shakes his head. None of this feels real. That voice in his head is telling him he shouldn’t be this happy. Waking up in your arms, is more than he deserves. Things are too perfect. But as you look up to him, in every sense of the word, Sam pushes those anxious thoughts away. He buries his uncertainty and devotes the rest of the morning to making you feel his love.

Sam spends the next few hours working extra hard to make sure you feel good. He doesn’t give you a moment’s reprieve until you have cum countless times for him. He doesn’t take his hands off of you until you are all but whimpering for mercy. He makes sure you know that his only thoughts are of you.

You hate the cliché. But for you, there is no other way to describe your morning together either than you were making love. You and Sam have never been an overly sentimental couple. You have your private loving moments but you are both hunters, realists. Your love for each other is grounding in reality, not fantasy. You take the good, the bad, and the ugly. That’s what makes your love true and lasting.

You know he loves you. But, you are never one to turn down an opportunity for him to show you just how deep his love for you flows.

Sam takes his time and gives you everything. He stops himself from taking anything from you. That nagging voice returns to tell him he has taken enough from you. He doesn’t know where that voice is coming from. As far as he remembers, your relationship has always been an equal balance. But, he still feels the need to rectify a wrong he doesn’t remember committing. He is giving you the love, comfort, and promise you deserve.

He puts it all into his touch. He pours his devotion over you, letting it settle around you like a thick syrup that will stick to you forever. You couldn’t wash his love away even if you tried. Sam is taking care of you for a change.

You emerge from your shared bedroom a few hours later. Sam keeps one arm snaked around your waist as you both saunter through the bunker halls toward the kitchen. Sam can’t help but tease you about the dopey and blissed out smile on your face. You try to remove your smile, so Sam’s ego doesn’t inflate too much, but you both know the effort is made in vain. Sam knows the effect he has on you.

You finally reach the kitchen and find Dean sitting at the table. He is spiking his coffee with something a little stronger than sweetener.

“It’s a little early for that, don’t you think?” Sam criticizes his brother.

You smack your boyfriend’s chest to shut him up. Dean has only just regained his human status. You don’t blame him for needing something to take the edge off for the next little while. You and Sam have never been demons, you can’t possibly imagine the guilt and shame Dean must be feeling. He became the monster he has spent his whole life hating. You can’t imagine that kind of burden.

“It’s past noon,” Dean defends himself. “Do you two even have a clock beside that jungle gym you call a bed?” Dean sasses his brother.

Your cheeks heat up at the thought of Dean overhearing you this morning, you weren’t exactly quiet. In the moment, you never care who hears you. But once you get out of bed, you get a little more gun shy. So, you decide to change the subject before Sam gives Dean an equally sassy, and revealing, answer.

“I think what Sam meant to say was, would you like some pancakes to go with your Irish coffee?” You ask in as innocent of a voice as you can muster.

Dean looks over at you and smirks at your transparent embarrassment. Sam’s arms have left your waist to wrap around your shoulders. He pulls you in tighter, not letting you get an inch too far away from him. Dean’s smirk morphs into a genuine smile as he sees the contented grin on Sam’s face. Sam is resting his chin on the top of your head and swaying your bodies to the music he hears in his head.

Dean doesn’t know how you two can be together for as long as you have and still need that constant closeness as much as you do. Dean isn’t jealous of his little brother. Instead, he couldn’t be prouder. Dean loves that Sam is capable of letting love into his life. Dean only wishes he was capable of the same. But with everything he has been through lately, he can’t see himself opening up in that way anytime soon. So, for now, Dean is content simply knowing that kind of love is possible.

“Are you sure you can pry yourself away from Sammy long enough to make me some breakfast?” Dean teases you with a raised brow. “Your boyfriend seems extra grabby this morning,” he adds. Even Dean can notice Sam is more clingy than usual. You aren’t complaining. But, you have a feeling that you are soon becoming that annoyingly affectionate couple everyone hates.

“I think I’ll manage,” you retort and Dean scoffs in disbelief. You love seeing that teasing glint in Dean’s eyes return. His recovery may not be as far off as you all feared. “My puppy is just extra needy this morning,” you mock Sam to try and pull another smile out of Dean, and it works.

You hear Sam growl in your ear as a warning. You aren’t threatened, instead you start giggling. “Hey! I’m not holding onto you for my benefit,” Sam informs you. Sam lifts his head to look at his brother. “I’m holding her up because she has trouble standing on her right now. Watch what happens when I let her go,” Sam instructs Dean as he takes his strong arm’s off of you.

The second Sam lets you go, your legs feel wobbly. You didn’t realize just how much you were resting your weight onto Sam. You stagger slightly but Sam catches you before you stumble over.

“See,” Sam says with a triumphant smirk. He knows your legs always feel limbless after you two spend a morning like that together.

You bury you face in your hands as you stifle an embarrassed laugh. Sometimes you think Sam knows your body better than you do. You hadn’t even realized you haven’t recovered from your morning together, but Sam had.

“How about I make the pancakes and you go sit with Dean,” Sam suggests as he pats your butt.

You bite your lip as you pretend to consider his offer. The truth is, you would never turn down a chance to see your big tough hunter in an apron. “Okie dokie! Works for me,” you smile as Sam leads you to the table.

Once you are seated, Sam goes about his business getting breakfast ready. You lean over the table to steal the pot of coffee Dean is hogging. But, Dean is too quick. He snatches the pot away and narrows his eyes at you.

“Nuh uh, sweetheart.” Dean admonishes you like you are a child.

“Please,” you beg of him. “Just one sip before Sam sees!” The desperation in your whispered voice is clear. But, Dean won’t give in.

“Nope,” Dean shakes his head. “I won’t have my little niece or nephew hopped up on caffeine just because mommy needed a morning pick me up.”

“Sam’s right. You really are a jerk,” you pout your defeat.

“You are the one who got herself knocked up,” Dean raises his hands in defence. “And, you are the one who gave me that scary book about all the things that can go wrong during pregnancy. So, don’t blame me for not wanting your kid to pop out with an extra head.”

“That wouldn’t happen-” you start to assure Dean but are cut off when you hear a large crash of dishes breaking behind you.

You turn around and see Sam’s face has paled beyond recognition. He is staring at you with a look of shocked fear in his eyes.

“Sam, what’s wrong?” You get up from your seat and rush to his side. Your legs are no longer jelly now that you are driven forward by adrenaline to make sure he is alright. You ignore the broken glass on the floor as you stand chest to chest with Sam. You cup his jaw in your palm and pull his gaze down toward yours.

“Y-Your pregnant?” Sam stammers.

You narrow your eyes at him. “Yes,” you draw out the word. You see his eyes sparkle with joy and you can’t help but laugh. “Did you forget? You’ve known for almost two months. Why are you acting like this is new information?” You laugh because you think he is just playing a trick on you.

“I-I must have… I don’t know… are you sure I knew?” Sam asks as he is still stuck in a state of shock.

“Uh, yeah… I’m pretty sure. You all but hired a skywriter when we decided to tell Dean.” You smile at the memory of how proud Sam was to tell anyone and everyone he had gotten you pregnant. But, you also remember the way he didn’t sleep for the first month after you told him. He was nervous that the wrong people would find out you were having a Winchester’s baby. So, he definitely knew.

“Right…” Sam trails off. Something is wrong. This doesn’t feel like his life. He remembers you telling him you are pregnant. But, it doesn’t feel like a memory. It feels like torn pages from an old and familiar fairy-tale his heart had internalized. It is as if he had fantasized about it so often it started to feel like truth. But, you are here. Apparently, this is real. Sam has to remind himself of that fact.

Concern is causing the smile to fade from your lips. Your brows crease together as you try and read Sam’s busy mind. You look over your shoulder towards Dean for his help.

Dean stands up from his spot at the table and walks over to you. “It’s alright Sammy. You’re probably just stressed out of your mind. You’ve had a lot on your plate lately,” Dean looks to the floor as guilt clouds his eyes. “Why don’t you two go out for breakfast? I’ll clean up here and you can bring me back a short stack or something.”

“You don’t want to come?” you ask the eldest Winchester.

“I’m not quite ready to be out in the real world just yet, princess. Soon though,” he assures you as he kisses your forehead. “Just keep this one away from the caffeine!” Dean instructs his brother with a smile.

You roll your eyes at Dean as you take Sam’s hand in yours to urge him forward. Sam lifts you up to make sure your bare feet don’t get hurt on the broken glass around you.

Time plays tricks on Sam. It is as if you exit the bunker’s kitchen and walk straight into a diner. He doesn’t remember driving here or even ordering. The next thing he knows, he has a mouth full of watermelon and a spoon full of oatmeal.

“Sam?” You call out to him. “Did you hear me?”

“Uh… sorry. What did you say?” Sam shakes his head as he tries to catch up with reality.

“I said, we have that doctor appointment later in the week. We should talk about whether we want to know the sex of our baby.”

“Our what?” Sam’s eyes widen as he once again looks like you are giving him new information.

“Sam, this isn’t funny. You’re scaring me.” You put down your fork and reach across the table to take his hand. “A-Are you… having second thoughts?” You can’t help but ask. Your life with Sam has been perfect, too perfect. The shoe was bound to drop eventually. What if this is it?

Sam can hear a familiar hint of rejection and pain in your voice. His eyes shoot up to meet yours. He can see you are trying to bury the fear in your eyes for his sake. He hates when you do that. He hates when you hide your pain just to make him happy.

“Because if you are,” you continue, “I can-”

“No!” Sam cuts you off with an adamant response. “Never, I would never have seconds thought about you or… our baby,” Sam says as he catches up to the conversation. Talking about this mystery baby is an odd thing for Sam to say out loud. It doesn’t feel familiar but it feels right.

“Okay, but you can tell me if you are. Chances are, I am ten times more scared of this than you are. I am probably so much closer to a fear-induced mental break down than you are. So, nothing you say can surprise me.” You decide to open up to Sam about your own concerns. You want him to know he’s not alone in his fear.

“What are you scared of?” Sam asks with determination in his voice. He has every intention of finding your fears, and then salting and burning them so they stay gone forever.

“You,” you respond honestly. You see Sam’s face fall and you realize you need to clarify. “I don’t mean it like that.” Your hand squeezes his a little tighter. “Look, I know we talked about me stepping back from the hunting life from now on. I also know you said that you won’t leave Dean to hunt on his own. But, the idea of sitting at home with the little nugget, not being able to protect you while you’re off hunting god knows what… I don’t know what we would do if something happened to you. I don’t know I would do without you. I can’t do this on my own. It’s always been you. You will be an amazing father, I don’t doubt that for a minute. But, I have no idea what I am doing. Our baby will need you to keep us all on track. But what if one day you never come home to us? I…I would-”

“You would do nothing,” Sam interrupts you with a stern demand in his voice. He knows what you were going to say. He can see those self-sacrificing wheels turning in your mind. He wants to stop them in their tracks. You have always been quick to jump on the nearest grenade for Sam. It’s a quality Sam both admires and fears about you. But he would never let you give your life for his.

“But I-” you start to argue.

“But, nothing. I can’t imagine what I would do if I lost you because you were cleaning up a mess I made for myself,” Sam lies. That nagging voice in his head has returned. He doesn’t know why, but he can vividly invasion how empty his life would be without you. But he tries his best to ignore that creeping darkness. If he looks into that abyss, he doesn’t know if he will ever find his way out. “Listen, I’ll talk to Dean. After everything he just went through… who knows? Maybe he’ll be ready to hang up his cape. Maybe we can all get out. I’ll take care of it. I’ll take care of you, I promise.” Sam traces circles on the back of your hand.

He reassures you with a smile and all your fears melt away. Sam leans across the table to kiss your maple syrup coated lips. When he pulls away, he is suddenly back at the bunker. He is sitting alone in the library with a book of baby names in his lap. He knows it is a baby book, but the letters appear unreadable.

Confusion laces Sam’s features as he tries to figure out how he got here. But he is soon distracted when you come barreling into the room wearing a pair of tight running shorts. Sam had bought them for you as a joke because they have a large ‘S’ on the butt due to the brand’s name. He thought he could get you into them when you two were alone together. But, you ended up wearing them all the time. You said they were comfortable and you liked showing off who owns your ass, your words not his.

Sam can’t help but smile at the little extra bounce in your step every time you wear them. You love the way Sam leers at you when you wear these short. Your entrance distracts Sam from his own confusion.

“Isn’t it a little cold out to be wearing shorts?” Sam asks with a smirk as he comments on your unseasonal attire.

“Shut up, I want to wear these while I still can. In a couple weeks, I am going to balloon up thanks to you and your spawn. So, I’m going to get as much wear out of my cute clothes while I still can. It won’t be long before I am stuck wearing tragic stretchy pants that can fit a watermelon down the front.”

“But, I like watermelons,” Sam says and he opens his arms for you to come sit on his lap.

“I know you do,” you smirk as you take his offered seat and kiss his cheek.

Sam’s lips find their way to your neck and start sucking lazy marks into your skin. He smiles against you when you moan and tilt your head back for him. In this stage of your pregnancy, your hormones make you easily susceptible to Sam’s loving touch. But you stop yourself from giving in right now. You can feel yourself on the verge of surrender but that’s not why you came in here.

You put your hands in his hair and give it a small tug. He groans as you pull his mouth off of your bare shoulder. You get up off his lap and try pulling him up with you.

“Get up, lazy bones!” You order him. “We have to go,” you say with reluctance as you pull on his wrist.

“Where are we going?” Sam groans with annoyance as he misses you in his arms.

“We have to go for our daily run. We’ve missed the past couple days because of the whole Dean situation, but we need to get back on track,” you inform him.

You’d much rather get your exercise done in Sam’s bed. But, your doctor gave you a moderate, yet important, workout schedule to stick to. It is only for the first few months of your pregnancy. After that, you will have to take it easy. But until then, you aren’t taking any chances with your health.

Part of this regimen includes a light run every day. You and Sam usually go for your runs in the mornings, but you forgot to today, for obvious reasons.

“Run?” Sam gets out of his chair and looks at you with concern. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? I don’t think we should-”

“Come on,” you roll your eyes at him. “Or, are you scared I may finally beat you when we race back home?” You smirk at him. You and Sam can’t help but get a little competitive when you go for your runs. He never lets you win. But you’re at least starting to catch up.

“No… it’s just, I don’t think running is such a good idea with the baby and your heart condition. You never could run before. I don’t think you should start now. It’s too dangerous.”

“What are you talking about?” It is your turn to look confused. “What heart condition?”

“You know what I’m talking about,” Sam chides the fact you are still trying to minimize your health issues.

“Sam, I’ve never had a heart condition. The doctor is the one who said running will help keep my body healthy for the baby,” you remind him. “What is going on with you today?”

Sam takes in your words. He now realizes that this is too good to be true. Everything about today is too good to be true.

Waking up with you in his arms.

Getting Dean back to normal so soon after his experience as a demon.

You are having his baby.

Everyone is finally leaving the hunting life so Sam can raise a proper family with you.

You aren’t sick.

This can’t be real. Sam doesn’t feel like he deserves these things. His life shouldn’t be this easy, this perfect.

In this moment, Sam sees his reality, or lack thereof. That nagging voice in the back of his mind comes to the forefront and eradicates his contentment. Sam’s confusion and doubt turn to stone as they solidify into dread.

He looks around and sees the library tables are not scratched. The varnish on the floor is not scuffed. And, the old paint is not peeling off of the walls. Everything is squeaky clean and perfect. The bunker does not feel lived in. But, at the same time, Sam has never felt more at home.

Sam is just now noticing that the old lore books that decorated the library have been replaced. The dusty old books are now colourful popup books about clowns. A little slice of nightmare embedded in this perfect dream.

But the thing that truly made Sam accept his unreality, was when he let himself look into your eyes. Your pupils dilate just for him. Sam sees a lifetime of happiness and love behind your eyes. He sees no trace of pain, rejection, or unanswered yearning. He sees only peace. And that’s how he knows this isn’t real. He finally lets himself admit that this isn’t you, none of this is real.

He could explain away the lapses in time, the missing moments, and strange décor. But Sam cannot avoid the truth that the real version of you, the one he knows and loves, does not have that happy gleam in her eyes. You always looked at Sam with love, but never true happiness. He was never able to give you that kind of well-rounded peace. That’s how Sam knows this isn’t real.

Sam pulls away from you and runs his hand down his face. He squeezes his eyes shut as he tries to remember his reality. But, everything is foggy. The only thing he is certain of is that he doesn’t deserve this beautiful lie. This has to be a dream.

“Sam,” you reach for him but he pulls away. He holds your wrists to stop you from coming any closer. He doesn’t want you trying to comfort him. He can’t let you lull him back into the blissful ignorance he doesn’t deserve.

“Stop, you’re not real.” Sam says as he looks down at you. The pleading in his eyes tells you that he wants you to contradict him. He wants you to prove him wrong. He wants you to tell him he’s crazy. He wants this to be real, he needs it to be. He needs you.

“But, I could be.” You can’t tell him what he wants to hear.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” he whispers. There is a lot he needs to apologize for, but he doesn’t know where to start. He can’t figure out which memories are real and which are not. The only thing he can offer you is a blanket apology to keep you warm until his mind catches up to the specifics.

“Don’t be sorry,” you plead with him. “Just stay with me. Isn’t it finally our turn to truly be together?” You ask him with that familiar pain in your voice. It is a pain Sam remembers all too well, he knows that is real.

Sam squeezes his eyes shut once tears start to sting his eyes. “You don’t know how much I wish this was real. But I can’t just-” Sam starts to say but is cut off when he hears the distant sound of a phone ringing. It doesn’t sound like it is coming from this realm. “It’s not up to me,” his voice breaks as realization hits him.

He grips your wrists a little tighter as he feels this beautiful world he created get lighter. He can feel it slipping away. He can feel you slipping away. He thinks that if he holds you close enough, he’ll get to stay. You will ground him here. You will keep him safe from his reality.

“Please don’t wake up, Sammy!” The desperation in your voice causes Sam’s heart to clench with dread.

Sam looks around. You both are no longer in the library. You are in your shared bedroom. You are trying to pull him onto the bed beside you. Your stomach is a little larger than it was a moment ago. You are showing now. Your belly is getting rounder with every passing minute. Sam can his baby growing inside you. He can see the baby’s little foot kick against your flesh as the ringing phone gets louder.

“Please, don’t leave us.” You plead with him as you place his hand on your lower stomach. You intertwine your finger so you can feel your family grow together. “It is finally our turn. We can have it all.” You use your other hand to cup his cheek and force him to look you in the eye. “We can be together. We can have a family. We can finally be happy.”

Your words cut through Sam as you offer him the world. His subconscious is torturing him with everything he’s ever wanted. But the ringing is only getting louder, you are becoming blurry. Your life together is falling away.

“I love you,” you breathe out. “Please, stay.” A single thick tear spills over the rim of your left eye. Sam can now see the pain and rejection he knew he was missing. He’d give anything to make it go away.

Sam lunges forward and takes your cheeks into his large palms. He can no longer stop his own tears from rolling down toward his quivering chin. He looks you dead in the eyes so you understand his next words loud and clear. He needs you to focus only on him, above the ever-increasing ringing. He needs you to hear him say this. He needs you to believe it. “I-”

Before Sam can tell you just how much he loves you, he jolts awake. The ringing phone stops. He shouts out your name as his eyes fly open. He searches for you. But, you are nowhere around. You are not curled up in his arms like you were last time. Sam realizes he his sitting in the front seat of Baby, alone. He looks out the window and realizes he is still in the parking lot of the bar he and Crowley had been drinking at.

You are still gone, and it is still his fault.

Sam screws his eyes shut as he beats his palm against the steering wheel. He unleashes every ounce of anger onto the wheel as if it is at fault and not him. He hollers his pain into the empty car and let’s his reality wash back over him.

By the time Sam calms down, he realizes he has broken the skin on his knuckles, and probably the bone too. But, he doesn’t feel it. No pain he inflicts on his body can override the pain in his tattered heart.

Sam doesn’t check his phone; the cursed device doesn’t deserve his attention. It’s ringing took you away from him. Besides, he knows it was Dean calling. His brother probably got worried when Sam didn’t come home after a few hours and found that Baby was missing too. Sam will call his brother back, but not right now. After.

Sam clears the unshed tears from his eyes to rectify his blurred vision. Once he can see straight, Sam puts Baby into drive.

It took Sam a few days to find what he was looking for. He hasn’t called Dean back in the entire time he spent searching. He knew Dean would talk him out of it.

Sam pulls up to an abandoned warehouse that is nestled outside of a small Midwestern town. He doesn’t get out of the car just yet. He can feel his destiny calling him inside the building. But, there is one more thing he has to do. He calls his brother.

“Sam! Where the hell have you been? I told you to take a walk not go missing for days on end without so much as answering your goddamn phone!” Dean berates his brother before Sam can even get a word in.

“I’m fine, Dean.” It’s not a lie. Sam hasn’t felt this at peace in years.

“You’re fine?” Dean scoffs. “I’m so glad you are fine! Meanwhile, I have been sitting here with my thumb up my ass not knowing what the hell happened to you! I had no way to find you or track you because someone turned off your phone!” Dean doesn’t care if he is yelling.

“Relax, Dean. Everything is going to work out. I’m going home,” Sam assures his brother.

“Great!” Dean voice is laced with sarcasm. “When will you, and my car, be getting back here?”

“No, Dean. I’m not coming back to the bunker. I’m going home. I’m going back to her.”

“Sammy, what do you mean?” Dean asks in an eerily calm voice. Dean already knows the answer Sam will give, but he doesn’t want to hear the confirmation.

“I’ve always been selfish with her. Our entire lives I… I always took what I didn’t deserve from her. Why should that change just because she’s gone? I’ve decided to be selfish one last time.”

“You can’t bring her back,” Dean sighs in defeat. “Cas made sure of that when he burned her body. If there really was a way to bring her back, Crowley would have done it already. Sam, it’s not-”

“I’m not bringing her back, Dean. I’m going to her,” Sam states.

Sam can hear his brother starting to pace with anxious steps. “Really, Sam? After all we’ve been through, after all we’ve fought for? After all she did for you? You don’t get to self-checkout. Y/N sold her soul to make sure you’d live. You are not honestly talking about killing yourself, are you?”

Sam remains silent which is answer enough.

“Sam, we don’t even know where she is! I know you don’t want to hear this, but she may not be in heaven. She did some horrible things as a demon.” Dean tells his brother the harsh truth.

“That wasn’t her!” Sam shouts in your defense. “That is who I forced her to become.” Sam’s anger settles back into desolation.

“You didn’t hold a gun to her head and demand that she sell her soul for you.” Dean tries to reason with his brother, despite him knowing it is a futile effort.

“I may as well have,” Sam admits.

“She knew what she was doing. She made her choice.”

“And, I’ve made mine. Look, I didn’t call for your permission. I just needed you to know that I forgive you, Dean. I don’t know what you two did together as demons and I don’t care. It doesn’t matter anymore. It never really did. I hope soon you’ll be able to forgive yourself.”

“Sammy, don’t-”

“Goodbye, Dean. I love you.” Sam and his brother never tell each other with words how much they love one another. But, they should. Sam made that same mistake with you and you died not knowing how much you meant to him. He doesn’t want Dean to second guess Sam’s love for him once he’s gone.

Sam hangs up on Dean as his brother screams his name through the receiver. Sam leaves his cell phone on so Dean will be able to track his phone and find Baby and find his body.

Sam gets out of the car and walks toward the warehouse. Hope and anticipation imbues his every step. Sam enters the seemingly empty building. He hears metal clanging and light footsteps creaking in the distance.

“You can cut the crap,” Sam calls out as he makes his way through the halls. “I know what you are. I know what you do. I think we can help each other.” Sam yells out into the open air.

Sam rounds the corner and walks into a large open room. Suddenly, a tall and heavily tattooed man comes out of the shadows. The man’s unnaturally bright blue eyes tell Sam he has found the right creature.

The Djinn stares at Sam with curiosity but doesn’t say a word. He can smell Winchester blood flow through Sam’s veins. The creature assumes this is a trick. A Winchester would never give themselves over to a monster willingly. But then, the Djinn sees the yearning in Sam’s eyes. He is not here to fight, he is not here for bloodshed. Sam is here for release.

Every monster far and wide has an unsatisfied sweet tooth for Winchester blood. And, this Djinn is no different. He has wanted a taste of the infamous bloodline for years. And now, Sam is offering himself up on a silver platter. This Djinn is not about to turn down a free delicacy.

The Djinn nods his understanding of Sam’s terms. He knows better than to cross a Winchester. The creature will give Sam his release, in return for his livelihood. The Djinn stalks up to Sam with a triumphant smile. Sam doesn’t even flinch as the Djinn raises his hand and causes a blue mist to invade every sense of Sam’s being. His world goes black seconds later.

Sam opens his eyes and finds himself back at the bunker. He is standing in the library when he hears a familiar laugh echoing from down the hall. He follows it like it is his personal siren call.

Sam looks in his room but finds it empty. He searches room after room but finds no trace of you. He sees a light shining from the room at the end of the hall. He then hears another bout of laughter followed by an excitable squeal coming from within. A relieved smile pulls at Sam’s lips as he runs forward and pushes open the door.

The second he enters the room, his eyes are drawn to you. Your smile widens beyond compare when you see him. Sam has no choice but to return it. Sam’s gaze trails down to where your stomach is just as swollen and full as it was when he left his previous dream.

The Djinn picked up Sam’s fantasy-life right where it left off. Sam watches you bear his little family in your waddling frame and a weight lifts off his chest. He lets a homey sense of serenity wash over him. It is a kind of peace he has never felt before. It is true, pure, and uninterrupted.

“There you are! Where the hell have you been? I need back up,” you feign seriousness. You squeal with laughter again as you run up to Sam. You duck behind his towering frame. You use Sam as a human shield against the eldest Winchester brother.

The boys had finished painting your baby’s nursery a few days ago. Once the fumes dissipated, it was your job to start decorating. However, Dean came in and interrupted your work. You were trying to sort through the mountain of stuffed animals you had bought. Dean teased you when you looked at him with a guilty smile and informed him you had forgotten you bought this many toys. From there, it turned into an all-out war between you and Dean. You two threw stuffed animals at each other and dodged them like they were grenades.

For a couple of former seasoned hunters, you were all surprised how easy it was to slip into the apple pie life. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say it feels like magic.

So, Sam had walked right into a fuzzy war zone. Sam can’t help but laugh as you cower behind him as if the stuffed bunny in Dean’s hand would actually wound you. Over the years, Sam has seen you take countless beatings on the job, and even a stray bullet to the leg. So, it is funny watching you hide from plush.

“No fair!” Dean calls out from across the small room. He is using the half-assembled crib as a barricade. “You don’t get to use the Sasquatch as shield! Two against one… that’s not fair!” Dean bellows as if this is a real battle with real rules.

“Technically, it is three against one!” You holler back at the lone army of one as you point to your large belly. “You should know by now, Dean. Pregnant ladies can play as dirty as we want and you can’t say shit about it!” You stick your tongue out at him to prove your point.

Dean doesn’t appreciate your smack talk. So, he raises his arm and hurls the stuffed bunny at you. You squeal again and duck back behind Sam. The bunny hits Sam in the head but he doesn’t even flinch. He simply gives his brother a look of unadulterated sass and annoyance. But, Dean can see through it. Dean can see his little brother is all but beaming with joy on the inside.

“You two are absolute children,” Sam rolls his eyes to try and hide his bliss. “You do know that soon there will be an actual baby here for us to try and manage, right? I don’t need three children to chase after.” Sam pretends to be the mature one. But, everyone knows he’s full of shit.

“Dean started it,” you decide to make yourself as immature as possible just to annoy Sam.

“Nuh uh,” Dean follows your lead. “No way, princess. This was all you!”

You narrow your eyes at Dean and bend over to pick up the stuffed bunny that fell at Sam’s feet. Your intention is to throw it back at Dean, but Sam stops you. Sam lifts you into his arms with the same ease as ever, despite the extra baby weight. He carries his feisty warrior out of the room.

“That’s right! Run away, little girl. We all know you need your big tough baby daddy to bail you out and save your sorry ass!” Dean playfully mocks you both as you leave the room in giggles. He loves teasing you like this. You are the little sister he’d never admit to wanting.

“This isn’t over, Jerk!” You shout to Dean over Sam’s shoulder as he carries you to the safety of your shared bedroom.

“Yes, it is.” Sam tries to calm down your competitive side. “You won the battle and the war. Now, just enjoy the victory.” Sam smiles at you and you settle down in his arms.

Sam walks with a smile on his face. He loves seeing you and Dean fight like siblings. Watching you and Dean laugh together, like you used to when you were kids, only adds to the illusion of paradise. The two most important people in Sam life are a true family again.

You rest your head on Sam’s shoulder as he carries you the rest of the way. You both know you can walk, but you are both more content with you staying in his arms.

Sam brings you to your room and sits you on the end of the bed. “He’s going to spoil our kid rotten. He’s going to be that fun uncle who fills the kid up with sugar right before bedtime. Then, he’ll hand the kid off to us so we have deal with the consequences and he gets away clean. Dean Winchester will be the reason I won’t get a good night’s sleep for the next five years of my life!” you complain as you flop onto your back.

The genuine annoyance and impending dread in your voice makes Sam laugh. “Isn’t that what you signed up for when you agreed to have a kid with me? Uncle Dean comes with the deal.”

You scrunch up your face in feigned thoughtfulness. “I don’t remember ‘agreeing’ to have your baby. The way I remember it, you thought it would be fun to try out those watermelon flavoured condoms Dean got you for your birthday. You know, the ones that are more for novelty than for actual protection.” You remind Sam of how you ended up in this position.

You always thought you’d have a family with Sam someday. But, those crappy condoms just sped your plans along ahead of schedule. The pregnancy was an accident. A happy accident, but still an accident. You two never did things the way you were supposed to, why should having a kid be any different?

Sam laughs at that memory. He knows the memory was implanted in his mind by the Djinn to embellish his fantasy. But this time, knowing it is fake doesn’t make it any less perfect. This is his life now.

“Alright, maybe it wasn’t an agreement but you sure as hell knew what you were getting into when you chose to be with me. You were just asking for trouble,” Sam teases you as he nudges you back so you’re lying on your side of the bed.

“Don’t I know it,” you roll your eyes. “You, Mr. Sam Winchester, will be the death of me.”

You meant it as a joke but Sam’s face hardens as he gets into the bed beside you. “Don’t say that,” he pleads with you. “I won’t… I’ll never…”

“Hey!” You cup his cheek and force him to look at you. “I didn’t mean-”

“I know what you meant,” Sam cuts you off. “But, I need you to know that there is nothing I will ever put above you or our family.” Sam puts his hand on your belly. He can feel a little foot kick at its father. “I love you.” Sam is finally able to say the words. There is no interruptions or impending doom. There is only you and him. There is only truth.

The light he sees in your eyes outshines his knowledge that this isn’t real. You are looking at him now with all of the love he never let you fully express in your true lifetime. He wonders how you kept it all contained over the years. It is now overflowing and he hates himself for ever making you stifle that pureness and light.

Sam knows this is a Djinn induced fantasy. He knows he will be dead in a matter of days. But to him, it will feel like years. Sam will get back the years he wasted without you. He gets to reset his life and spend the rest of his days by your side, where he should have been all along. Sam gets a do over, you both do. It is finally your turn.

Sam knows he will die. But he will die under the illusion that he lived his life in your arms. And, that is more than he could ever want or deserve.

You were willing to sacrifice your soul for Sam’s life. Now, Sam is willing to sacrifice his life to finally connect your souls.

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