I Wish I'd Never Met You - Eve
Every man has their limits. Winchesters take longer than mere mortals to snap, but even they have their breaking points. Samâs had come at the sight of the tiny plaque for the tiny girl whoâd been his platonic everything. Nobody had ever loved him the way she had, nobody had been equally at his side whether he was human, vampire, drunk on blood, or clean. Nothing heâd managed to find had shaken her resolve in him and now with her gone and Dean disappeared, Sam just couldnât. He couldnât go on. Fuck this town, Lilith could have it. Sam no longer cared. If he stayed, he was dead and as darkly tempting as that thought might be, the knowledge of what laid in wait for him after his passing robbed the idea of any relief.
He said his own goodbye in the middle of the night, right after the installation. He didnât stick around for the funeral because he didnât know the people of town any longer. Elena was not the girl heâd met and fallen in love with anymore and when Katherine of all people could be considered one of his besties, it was time to bail. Part of him regretted not being there for Collin, but the other could potentially tear Sam apart with his bare hands in his grief and heâd rather not die like that. Instead heâd hopped into the first old forgettable looking car heâd come across and just started driving. At first he didnât know where he was going, besides north. Then the car started tipping West and he found himself at Bobbyâs. The idea that Dean would be there and waiting had been purely subconscious and without his permission. The disappointment heâd felt when he walked out and there was no Impala waiting - that was pretty much a sledgehammer to the stomach.
Samâd stumbled across the threshold a broken man, and six months later he was leaving a better hunter. Bobby had him locked in the panic room for almost a month before he was allowed back up. Heâd had more than enough time to read just about every book in Bobbyâs house and started keeping his own journals of the most useful things he came across. Spells, potions, sigils, even abbreviated lore. His mind grew sharper and his body once the last of the toxins had become stronger than itâd ever been. Sam was a weapon - mind and body - and he had to remember that. Hunter, maybe not by choice, but now there was no other option but to give himself wholeheartedly into it.
Which in theory would define a Winchester. If they werenât first dedicated to family before craft. Sam left Bobbyâs with a handful of folders all detailing new cases with innocent deaths, but he tossed them aside in favor for the folder heâd written with Deanâs name on it. He had to find his brother. Then they could go back to saving people, hunting things, the family business. It made Sam uneasy that nobody Bobby was in contact had heard even a whisper of Dean. No Impala sightings, no cases already solved before they got there - it was like Dean had just up and disappeared and that wasnât like him. Sam felt sick to his stomach but he was determinedly not looking at why. Dean was alive, he had to be.
Another six months found him less sure and more drunk at a dive bar heâd taken employment out somewhere in the middle of California. Far enough away from Palo Alto he wouldnât run into anyone who recognized him, but close enough the climate was the same and served as some sort of balm to Samâs mental state. A year. The only time Sam and Dean had gone a year without talking was⊠never. Their longest distance had been Deanâs time in hell and that had only been four months.
His brother was dead.
Really dead this time. No heavenly interference to drag him back up. Just - gone. Sam hunted half heartedly here and there, but each time put a worse taste in his mouth and he found himself preferring the dull bar life instead. So he bought the bar. Under an assumed name of course and a fake credit card but nobody was going to look that closely here. Permanently retiring, Sam happily fell off the radar. Minus one phone with two contacts. Bobby and Dean. Just in case.
Turning the open sign around with a bleary sigh, Sam paused by the window to watch the sky start to lighten. Time to clean up and head to bed.
Twelve months, two weeks, and three days. Â That was how long Eve had stayed in that stupid hell hole known as Mystic Falls, which, in her opinion, was twelve months, two weeks, and three days far too long. Â Of course, at first she was there because Lilith had stationed her there, and while she'd continued to insist that she'd stayed there for that exact same reason, she'd almost liked the security that had come with making a permanent residence there. Â Not to mention she had enjoyed messing around with the inhabitants, and she'd stayed in town a little after the massive fire that had basically snuffed all life from the town (because honestly, how could she run away from fire?) but after that, there really wasn't anything left for her anymore. Â Lilith was done with the town, so there had gone her excuse. Â Besides, her expertise was needed elsewhere. Â Eve may not have been the strongest demon around, and while she wasn't the smartest, she was definitely up there, probably the only real reason Lilith kept her so close. Â She was cunning, manipulative, and had a real knack for being two steps ahead of everyone else around her. Â Living in an actual town, especially forming 'bonds' with some of the residents (even though, she would have stabbed any of them straight in the front without even a second glance if it had come down to it, except for perhaps Alaya - who she'd actually stayed in sparse contact with) had kind of made her forget what it was like to be a demon. Â Being off on her own had made her harsher again, tougher, a bit more rough around the edges, and while by no means was she tame while in the town, the demon certainly wasn't quite the same as she'd been a year ago.
At that particular moment, Eve wasn't doing much of anything. Â Sure, it would have been nice to have been involved in some sort of larger scheme, but for the moment, she was perfectly content moving from town to town, causing havoc and creating mayhem, running into other demons here and there. Â Although, thinking back on it, she had to say, the death of Dean Winchester had come as quite a shock to her. Â And of course, she had been momentarily miffed that she hadn't been allowed to do the honors. Â She wasn't surprised, of course, seeing as every demon and their hell hound was hot on his heels, not to mention a whole whack of other beings, but still, she had loathed him. Â An emotion she rarely ever assigned to people, because honestly, loathing was a waste of her time. Â She loathed Crawford, maybe a handful of other demons, but that was pretty much it, and so it would have been nice to get her vengeance. Â Still - she was surprised the idiotic cloud hoppers hadn't tried to do anything to bring him back, but she figured either he'd worn out his use to them, or Heaven was in such a state of panic they couldn't even put their affairs in order. Â Both of which were fine by her.
A loud, muffled scream broke the little brunette out of her reverie, and she turned her attention back to the man who was tied up to a chair in the warehouse that she'd taken over. Â She wasn't going to stay there long, but it was seemingly abandoned so, for the time being, that had worked for her. Â Eve literally had the man for no other reason than the fact that she was bored, but she was going to take her time with this one. Â Probably tearing him apart enough until she was bored, and then she'd set him alight. Â She took a delicate sip out of the bottle of tequila sitting on the counter top behind her - always a lady - of course, and then set to work. Â Hours later, as she was making her way back to the pretty little house she'd taken over, preferring to walk because the town honestly wasn't that large, a bit of movement from one of the bars caught her eye, and for whatever reason - curiosity, fate, boredom - she stopped, pivoted, and looked in the window. Â That wasn't - no. Â That couldn't be. Â So, Dean Winchester was dead, but his skyscraper trying to pass as a human being brother was still alive? Â How was that even possible? Â For some reason, that just kind of amused Eve to no end, and she smirked wider than should have even been possible for the petite cheeks of her vessel, and, without even thinking about it, using her telekinesis, she sent the door flying open with a bang.
Practically bouncing, heels clacking against the hardwood floor, Eve send the door slamming shut behind her, and made her way halfway to where Sam Winchester, of all people, was standing. Â "Well, well, well." Â She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth, tilting her head to the side a bit coyly. Â "If it isn't Sammy boy Winchester." Â Granted, he was probably going to try tossing Holy Water on her or pelting her with rock salt, and oh for the love of Lucifer, she hadn't even checked to see if he had any Devil's Traps hidden anywhere. Â Well, that was unfortunate, the last thing she needed was to go to Hell and break her record. Â Not wanting him to sense any unease, Eve kept her features masked in cool amusement, while she let her eyes slowly wander, just a little bit to see if she was entrapped in anything. Â It looked like the coast was clear, and she took a small step forwards. Â When no force propelled her backwards, she continued flouncing forwards, just so she was at the bar. Â Hopping up onto one of the stools, she crossed her legs primly, propping her elbow up on the bar while she waited for Sam to speak.
