sum. sam has to deal with the loss of you; and grieving is never easy.
cw. angst . mention of reader's death . est. relationship . s7 leviathan arc but mixed with the bunker era? ignore it .
lock the door, but what for?
no one to walk in on me anymore
sam sobbed as quietly as he could as the flames burned in front of him. you were gone. really gone this time.
you had practically forced him to promise not to bring you back. and god, did he want to break it so bad. but he reminded himself of how you felt, what you said.
βwe've died and come back multiple times over the years, and i'm tired, sam. i'm tired of thisβthis lifestyle. i wanna grow old with you. safely. i don't wanna have to worry about what creature or biblical figure is gonna come at us every second. i just wanna be with you, sammy. but if it comes to it again; don't do it. don't bring me back. i know it'll be hard, but you gotta let me go, okay? please just let me go.β
he shuddered under the warmth emmitting from the fire. the flickering orange glow illuminated him, reflecting off his tears. he was completely heartbroken. he had held you as the lights faded from your eyes, weakly babbling about your dream life and how in love with him you were.
were.
that word tastes sour. it reads disgustingly.
you shouldn't have to be described with that awful word. all it does is remind him that you're gone. how he won't get to wake up and sleep next to you anymore. won't get to make a separate pot of coffee just so its the way you like it, and pour it into your favorite mug that he got you before you started dating. he won't get to hear you laugh, see you smile, flinch when you scold him, hold you when you cry, take care of you when you're sick. nothing.
he had to bring you back to the bunker. he had to explain to everyone what happened, what killed you. those stupid fucking leviathans. they didn't deserve to take you from him. truly, nothing did. but they did anyway. because that's what god wanted, i guess.
his love life has been doomed since jessβmaybe even before that. so you meeting a tragic end wasn't completely out of the question, but not exactly a no-brainer, either. he had told you about jess, as you two had met a few years shy of her death. and you had expected something to happen to you after lucifer admitted to having demons watch over sam all his life.
but expecting doesn't prepare you for when it happens.
sam had a gut feeling that it was a bad idea for you to sneak and spy on some of the leviathans. like he just knew something was going to go wrong for the two of you.
βi just don't think you should go alone, that's all,β he tried to reason as simply as he could, not wanting to say why he really thought you shouldn't go.
βi'll be okay, sam, i've done this shit before,β you responded, lightly punching his shoulder.
he scoffed, his lips twitching into smile, but it didn't meet his eyes. the expression fell from him quickly, and you could tell. you just knew his real reason. just by looking at him.
βhey,β you spoke softly. you turned in your seat as much as the confined space of the car would allow you to, resting a hand on his arm. βi'll be okay, you don't gotta worry about that. i can handle them. bobby taught us how to kill 'em, remember? sure, it'll be tough, but i can do it. you know i can.β
he struggled to meet your gaze, his head turning in minuscule snaps. βyeah, yeah, i know.β he let out a hesitant breath before moving his body to face yours, placing his hand over yours and wrapping his fingers around it. βi'm just scared. scared that you could get hurt, or- or worse, you know?β
βi know, honey, i know,β you soothed. βbut if we're gonna get closer to taking down bitch roman, you gotta let me do this, please.β you pleaded, scrunching your brows as he laughed.
βwhat? what did i say? why are you laughing?β you pouted before letting out a laugh. βbitch roman?β he cackled, βhis name's dick, baby.β he grinned at you, clutching his chest. βdick, bitch, same thing.β you rolled your eyes playfully.
to think that was the last time he'd ever hear you laugh. and it was because you were making fun ofβyeah, bitch roman.
and now here he was, giving you a proper hunter's funeral. just like you'd always wanted. you were raised into hunting like him and dean, having this whole ordeal programmed into your head since day one. even when you'd talk to him about your dream future, you'd always go out like this. buried as a hunter.
when the whole ceremony was done, he told everyone to head to bed, to let him take care of you. just one last time.
he dismantled what he needed to, to get your covered bones and whatever was left of you off the pyre. he carried you over to a hole he had previously dug, right next to the garden you had started last year. he placed you inside gently, tears free falling, cascading, down his face. he blinked rapidly at an attempt of clearing his vision. he wanted to get everything right for you. you were the best, and you deserved as such.
his nose was red and runny, sniffles sounding out left and right. most of your things were burned already, except a few items to keep your memory by. he placed a broken charm braceletβfrom one of your anniversariesβonto the charred bones of your chest. it had been ruined during your final fight, and it was quickly found by sam before he even got to you.
his chest burned and ached. all over broken and choked sobs. he was shaking at every turn of his body, and push of his shovel into the nearby pile of dirt. he never would've thought he'd have to salt, burn, and bury you one dayβlet alone find and hold you as you exhaled your last few breaths. hell, he was there. he was just twenty feet away. sitting. waiting, in that damn car where you kissed and hugged him normally for the last time.
sometimes he can still taste your blood in his mouth. you insisted on feeling his lips on yours as you let go. and he felt it. he felt that last sigh ghost his lips; his trembling and begging, and yours falling flat and cold. when he pulled away, he saw that you had closed your eyes, a courtesy that was your last thought. you closed your own eyes to save him from looking into them. from shattering him further.
you were caring and thoughtful to the very end.
an end that should've never came. not now, at least. you should be here. the two of you were supposed to get out. be normal, happy. sam had helped you build those two rocking chairs for when you'd get old. it was a task you brought up to him unexpectedly, but he was glad to do it with you, especially with the considered future of it all.
but now?
now the chairs sat in the bunker's storage.
not forgotten, but preserved.
preserved with your left over belongings that he begged and fought to keep. because he was preserving you. he'll let go, you know he will. but you also know it'll be years until then.
and all you can do is watch. watch him grieve. watch him cry. watch him yell. watch him fight. all due to his love for you.
the words that you say are the price that i pay
gabs yaps. GUYS DONT BE MAD AT ME PLEASEEEE IM SO SORRY LMFAOOO DONT KILL ME ππ new fic layout is inspired by my dear millie's ( @soldiersgirl )!!
I need you people to realize that you can be friends with people older than you. like, much older than you. like, decades older than you. you can be friends with these people. regular friends, just like anyone your age. it is possible.
dededos
prguitarman
romaincrisis
gummygunk
discoholicmusic
stormborns
dailybridgerton
theartofmadeline
