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Sam x Reader Pilot AU

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Y/C/N or Y/D/N = your daughter’s name

Y/D/N/N or Y/C/N/N = your daughter’s nickname

“Sam! Come on, get a move on! We were supposed to leave ten minutes ago.”, you called out to Sam, your boyfriend of almost six years. Though these days you would often choose the title ‘husband’ over ‘boyfriend’ in conversation.

Sam poked his head into the bedroom in time to see you finish wrangling your three year old daughter, Y/D/N, who was currently dressed up as Velma from Scooby Doo -complete with rectangular glasses with the lenses poked out, orange turtle neck, red pleated skirt and knee high orange socks- into her red mary janes. You were dressed as Daphne, y/h/c hair corralled snugly into order behind a purple headband. A long sleeved purple wrap dress paired with pastel pink leggings, a lime green scarf and lavender coloured flats to complete the look.

“Do I have to?”, Sam asked. His reluctance was clear, though you and he both knew that he would never actually miss his baby girl’s first time trick-or-treating, no matter his personal misgivings toward the holiday itself.

“Yes.”, you said firmly, fastening the last buckle on Y/D/N's shoes. You planted a big, over exaggerated kiss on her plump cheek, causing her to release a sweet giggle which in turn made you smile, before you straightened up from your previously crouched position on the floor. “It’s Y/D/N's first real Halloween, and it’ll be fun.”

“Daddy, where’s your costume?”, your little investigator inquired, lisping some of her consonants together the way she tended to at this age, quickly hopping off the bed and rushing into Sam’s arms.

Sam caught her, lifting her onto his hip with ease, “Oh, Daddy's not sure if he's going to wear a costume, Y/D/N/N.”

Large y/e/c eyes that matched her mother’s bore themselves into his own hazel orbs as she pleaded, “But Mama picked it special!”

The minute the puppy dog eyes came out Sam knew that he was a goner. There was no way he could deny his little girl anything when she looked at him like that. And besides, how hard would it really be for him to grant his daughter the simple joy of having her Mama and Daddy dress up with her for Halloween?

“Alright, where is it?”, Sam conceded, immediately met with the childish cheers of your baby, and found himself unable to fight the smile that overtook his face at seeing Y/D/N's light up in elation.

An hour and a half and one candy filled trick-or-treating bag later saw the young family meeting up with their friends Brady and Jessica near a little truck that was selling hot chocolate.

Y/D/N had long since gotten too tired to walk on her own and was now perched upon Sam’s shoulders, tiny hands loosely gripping his hair as if it were reigns. She was careful not to upset the dog ear headband that sat upon her father's head that, paired with a thick blue ribbon tied around his neck with a homemade (by Y/D/N) construction paper ‘SD' dog tag dangling off of it, formulated his Scooby Doo ‘costume’.

After ordering five cups of hot chocolate the group was handed a multi drink holder to carry them in and managed to find their way to an empty picnic table without too much trouble. Once the drinks were safely sat in the centre of the table you and Sam delicately shifted the precious weight of your daughter from his shoulders and into your arms, settling the tired toddler onto your lap. Sam placed the smallest of the five cups of warm, chocolatey goodness in front of Y/D/N before distributing the remaining four to the adults.

“Make sure you blow on it, Y/D/N/N, it’s still very hot. Mama doesn't want you to burn yourself.”, you chided gently, watching as Y/D/N picked up her cup with both hands, blowing clumsily at the liquid inside before taking her first cautious sip.

Satisfied that your daughter would neither completely upend her cup over herself, nor accidentally burn her own tongue off, you turned to your boyfriend and friends.

“Guys, I would like to propose a toast.”, you proclaimed, raising your own cup and waiting for Sam, Brady, and Jess to follow suit before proudly declaring, “Here’s to Sammich and his awesome LSAT victory!”

Sam ducked his head a bit, cheeks reddening in slight embarrassment as he chuckled, “All right, all right. It’s not that big a deal.”

You scoffed, gently bouncing Y/D/N on your knees while you spoke, “Honestly, my husband. He acts all humble, but he scored a 174.”

“He’s that good?”, Brady replied.

“Daddy’s the goodest!”, your daughter announced, causing the young adults at the table to laugh. Sam reached out to ruffle Y/D/N's hair with one of his large hands, an adoring smile stretched across his face as the little girl giggled at her Daddy's antics.

Brady continued when the group's laughter subsided, “So there you go, you are first round draft pick. You can go to any law school you want.”

“Actually, I got an interview here, Monday. If it goes okay I think I got a shot at a full ride next year.”, Sam's nerves were clear in both his voice and body language.

“Baby, You’ve worked so hard for this; you’re the most hardworking person I know. You deserve this. It’s gonna go great, ”, you reassured him, eyes shining with pride and free hand finding his to give it a comforting squeeze.

Sam released a breath, fighting a smile as he took a moment to gaze into the beautiful y/e/c eyes of the mother of his child, the love of his life, “It better.”

“How’s it feel to be the golden boy of your family?”, Brady teased.

“Uh, they don’t know.”, Sam said awkwardly.

You couldn’t help the way sadness and guilt rose inside of you at the thought of Sam’s family. Officially, he’d lost contact with his father and older brother because he wanted to go to college, a decision that neither John nor Dean had taken well, but unbeknownst to them there had been a bit more to it than that. You had discovered you were pregnant in May of your junior and Sam’s senior year of high school. Sam had already been accepted to Stanford and was all set to attend come that September, but before the pregnancy came to light the plan had been to do long distance the next year, as you had been doing for the majority of your relationship. You were supposed to finish up your final year of high school on the road with your father before ultimately joining Sam in Palo Alto once you’d graduated. The pregnancy had changed things. After many long and difficult talks together discussing your options, the two of you decided that you wanted to keep and raise the baby together, but you both also agreed that you didn’t want to do that within the hunting life you had both been raised in. You had quickly begun formulating plans, the most important of which being that when Sam left for California you would be going with him. So when the time came that Sam came clean to his family about college and his father told him that if he left he’d better stay gone, Sam obeyed. Not for his father, but to keep safe the unborn child he already loved with all of his heart. You knew that Sam likely would have left anyway, with or without the pregnancy, but you couldn’t help but feel like maybe he would have reconnected with them by now if it weren’t for your daughter, and it made you feel somewhat responsible for the fissured relationship between Sam and his family.

“No, I would be gloating! Why not?”

“Because we’re not exactly The Brady's.”, Sam retorted, taking another sip of warm chocolatey goodness.

“And I’m not exactly The Huxtables.”, Brady retorted, “More hot chocolate?”

“Yes!”, Y/D/N exclaimed at the same time as her parents started stuttering out declination in sync, “N-no, no, no. No!”

Brady hurried off towards the hot chocolate truck, completely ignoring the protests of the young parents who were already dreading the sugar rush and subsequent crash that would inevitably make bedtime an absolute nightmare.

“I'm going to run to the washroom across the street. I'll be back in a minute.”, Jess excused herself, readjusting her nurse's costume as she went.

You turned to Sam once your friends had vacated the table and said, “Seriously, Sam, I’m so proud of you. And I know that you’re going to blow them away on Monday and you’re going to get that full ride.”

“Daddy needs a ride? Where’s he going?”, Y/D/N asked innocently.

Both you and Sam laughed lightly at the little girl’s confusion, before Sam reached over and pulled her onto his lap, kissing her forehead, “Daddy’s not going anywhere, Peanut.”, Sam's gaze danced between Y/D/N in his lap and you at his side, adoration and love shining in his eyes, “What would I do without you two?”

“I ask myself that same thing everyday.”, you tell him honestly, y/e/c eyes returning the same love for your little family as his held, before pulling him into a firm kiss on the mouth, refusing to part until a little voice went, “Ewwwwww!”, causing you both to break the kiss with a chuckle before turning to attack your happy little interruption with butterfly kisses all over her sweet face as she shrieked in delight.

Moments like this were what always reaffirmed to you that you and Sam had made the right choice in leaving the life behind.

Moments where you were just young, happy, and in love with both each other and the little family the two of you had forged together.

****

A thud from the living room woke you from your light slumber, causing your heart to begin racing in your chest. Turning to your other side you found Sam had awoken as well and was already halfway out of bed to go investigate. You reached out, gently touching his arm to inform him of your wakeful state. He turned to you, a finger to his lips, and nodded toward Y/D/N's room, silently asking you to check on her while he checked the rest of the apartment. You nodded your agreement and the two of you exited the bedroom together, Sam taking the lead, before going in separate directions down the hallway.

You moved quickly and stealthily through the darkness towards Y/D/N's open door, some of the tension in your body releasing when you found her still soundly asleep under her princess sheets. Your breath caught in your throat when beyond the hallway you heard the low sounds of Sam sparring with someone, confirming that someone (or something) had broken into the apartment. You double checked that the lock on Y/D/N's window and the salt line on the sill were still intact and in place before quickly making your exit, silently shutting her door behind you. You hurried to the front room where you could hear the scuffle dying down and being replaced by low voices speaking, one of them you recognized as Sam’s, the other unfamiliar. You regretted not having a weapon stashed near the front door for emergencies as you crept into the front room with nothing but your own strength for protection, but since your daughter had started walking, you and Sam had agreed to keeping all weapons in a combination lock box on the top shelf in your closet. It was the safest option with a curious toddler in the house, at least until she was older and could understand the danger they possessed.

Then you heard Sam say, “Dean, what the hell are you doing here?”

What the hell?

No longer feeling the need to be concerned about stealth, you immediately flipped on the living room light, revealing a vaguely familiar looking man, Dean, you presumed, standing with Sam in the front room, both turning to face you at the sudden brightness.

“Y/N/N, Baby, hey. Dean, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.”, Sam introduced.

“Your brother Dean?”, you asked, though you already knew the answer.

Sam nodded and Dean pointed at the oversized sleep shirt you wore, the neck hole loose enough to fall past your shoulder on one side and the bottom hem skimmed just low enough to cover your panty cladd butt, as his eyes roamed over your body, “I love Lynyrd Skynyrd.” He walked forward, moving closer to you and said, “You know, I gotta tell you, you are completely out of my brother’s league.”

You raised an eyebrow in disbelief, and said slightly uncomfortable, “Uh, I’ll go put something on.”

“No, no. No, I wouldn’t dream of it. Seriously.” He finally diverted his gaze and made his way back to Sam, “Anyway, I gotta borrow your boyfriend here, talk about some private family business. But, uh, nice meeting you.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the words ‘family business' but before you could say anything a little voice called out quietly.

“Mama?”

You all turned to see a sleepy, teary eyed toddler standing in the doorway, one little arm reaching up to rub at her eyes while the other clutched her plush bunny, Harry, snugly against her chest.

You quickly went into Mama mode, moving forward to scoop the little girl up into your arms securely into your arms.

“I’m sorry, Y/C/N/N, did we wake you up?”, you asked, rocking her gently as she held onto you with tiny arms wrapped around your neck, little face buried in the crook.

She shook her head, sniffling a little, “I had a bad dream. You and Daddy were gone.”

“Mama’s right here, Y/C/N/N.”, you reassured her, hand cradling the back of her head protectively while pressing a soft kiss to her cheek. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

The little girl nodded and closed her eyes, revelling in the comfort of her mother’s embrace for a moment.

Dean’s eyes darted quickly between you, the child in your arms, and Sam, clearly unsure of what exactly was going on here. He pressed on despite this, “Sam, could I talk to you outside?”

“No,” Sam said, coming to stand at your side, arm wrapping around your waist. “No. Whatever you want to say, you can say it in front of them.”

“Okay.” Dean agreed, with faked joviality, “Um, Dad hasn’t been home in a few days.”

“So he’s working overtime on a Miller-Time shift. He’ll stumble back in sooner or later.”, Sam volleyed back.

Dean looked down at his feet for a moment before fixing his gaze back up and on Sam, rephrasing, “Dad’s on a hunting trip and he hasn’t been home in a few days.”

Cold fear gripped your heart as Sam’s jaw stiffened, his grip around your waist tightening. You both knew the ramifications of Dean’s words, and though neither of you felt prepared to face them, you knew that you would have to, regardless.

Knowing this and recognizing that Dean and Sam needed some time to talk things through, you turned to Sam and quietly told him, “I’m going to go put Y/C/N back to bed, okay?”

Sam nodded, frown lines growing between his eyes the longer he was in his brother's presence. He was concerned, preemptively worrying about what sort of trouble his father had gotten himself into, and subsequently Sam's little family, but he was doing a fair job of trying to hide it. You just knew him too well for him to be able to conceal it from you, not to mention the fact that you were just as worried as Sam was that this could be the end of whatever sense of peace and happiness the two of you had managed to find in the last few years together.

You squeezed Sam's hand briefly in comfort, exchanging quick kisses pressed to the corners of each others mouths before you carefully readjusted your hold on your daughter and carried her back to her bedroom.

Whatever happened next, you would get through it together, as a unit, the same way you and Sam always did. Of course, you were still worried about the future of your young family, but you had faith in yours and Sam's ability to handle whatever life could throw at you.

****

“So what are you gonna do, you’re just gonna live some normal apple pie life? Is that it?”, Dean asks in disbelief, turning to face the brother he hasn’t seen in nearly four years.

“No, not normal. Safe.”, Sam corrects him, eyes hard.

“And that’s why you ran away. I see.”, Dean scoffs, shooting a glance up at the apartment building.

Sam levels Dean with a look, “I was just going to college. It was Dad who said that if I was gonna go, I should stay gone. And that’s what I’m doing.”

“Right and I’m sure that decision has nothing to do with that little game of happy families in there, huh?”, Dean sneers.

At the mention of his daughter and the woman he considered his wife, Sam began to get angry, frustrated with Dean’s attitude and upset that he would talk that way about Sam’s family, “Don’t talk about them like that! Look, Y/N and Y/C/N are my family and taking care of them, making sure they’re as safe as they can be? That’s my job. So that’s exactly what I did back then, and that’s exactly what I am doing now.”

“Yeah? And that’s exactly what Dad has always tried to do for us.”, Dean replied.

Sam looked away, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair. His emotions were warring within him, all fighting to take their place at the forefront; His frustration with being dragged back into the family business, his concern for his apparently missing father, the worry of what all of this could mean for Y/C/N and the life Sam and you had built here in Palo Alto over the last three years.

After a moment of silence, Dean sighed, “Look, Sam, Dad’s in real trouble right now. If he’s not dead already. I can feel it.”, he finishes, “I can’t do this alone.”

“Yes, you can.”, Sam persists. He's seen Dean track and take down countless monsters all by himself, has seen him work investigations enough times to know that his older brother is more than capable of tracking down their absent father all on his own.

“Yeah. Well, I don’t want to.”, Dean admits.

Well. Sam can't fault him for that.

Sam ducks his head, resigned to make the decision that he isn't sure was ever even his to make in the first place.

He takes a deep breath before heaving it back out in a heavy sigh, “What was he hunting?”

****

“You know in all this time, Sam, I’ve never bothered you, never asked you for a thing.”, Dean finished.

Sam looked back at the apartment complex, heaving a defeated sigh, “All right. I’ll go. I’ll help you find him.”

Dean nods, the barest bones of a smile beginning to form on his lips.

“But I have to get back first thing Monday.”, Sam continues, “Just wait here.”

He began to turn to walk back to his apartment, but Dean made him pause when he asked, “What’s first thing Monday?”

“I have an interview,” Sam told him, turning his body halfway back towards his older brother.

“What, a job interview?” Dean shrugs, “Skip it.”

Sam turned all the way around to face Dean, “It’s a law school interview and it’s my whole future on a plate.”

Dean's eyebrows rose up, some mixture of surprised and impressed, “Law school?”

“So, we got a deal, or not?”, Sam asked.

They do.

****

“Sam, I know you wouldn’t take off without a good reason, but I just have a really bad feeling about this.”, you told him from where you leaned in the doorway of your bedroom.

Sam was standing across from you packing his duffel on the bed, “Everything’s going to be fine, Y/N/N. My Dad's probably either too caught up in the hunt and forgot to check his phone, or too drunk to remember he has one in the first place. So, I’m just going to go with Dean for a few days to help him find him, and I’ll be back in time for the interview on Monday.”

“Sam, please, just-.”, you crossed the room and reached for his arm, squeezing gently, “Just stop for a second. Are you sure about this?”

Sam held your gaze steadily and tried to reassure you, “Hey, everything’s gonna be okay, Baby. I promise.”, before swooping in the plant a kiss on your cheek, then turning to exit the room.

“Could you at least tell me where you’re going so I know where I gotta go if I have to come save your stubborn ass?”, you called out.

“So what’s the deal with the girl and the kid?”, Dean asked once he and Sammy had been on the road for nearly an hour, finally broaching the subject that had been bothering him practically since he’d broken into Sam’s place that night.

Sam sighed, knowing this conversation couldn’t be avoided, but still feeling reluctant to have it, “That ‘kid’ is my daughter, Y/C/N, and the girl is Y/N, my wife, sort of.”

“And what, she knows about hunting? You told her?”, Dean asked, recalling the way your eyes had sharpened in recognition when he'd said the words 'hunting trip' earlier.

Sam let out a short, dry laugh, “That's, uh, kind of how we met actually.”

Dean's eyes snapped from the long, dark stretch of road ahead in order to briefly fix their interested gaze on Sam before returning to focus on the highway.

“What, you met Y/N during a hunt?”

“Yeah, I did actually, but I didn't tell her about hunting.”, Sam confirmed, “She was raised in the life, like us. We met back in ’99. Dad was working a ghoul case nearby and hers was hunting a wendigo in the town over, left her with $40 bucks and a shitty room in the same motel we were staying in at the time. We didn't meet until we ran into each other at the local library, though. We were the only two people in the Mythology section and got to talking, and from there it just sort of... grew.”, Sam couldn't help the way his lips curved upward in a soft smile thinking about the early days of his relationship with Y/N. Back then, they were just two dumb kids in love with no idea of what the future would hold for them. “We kept in contact afterwards and were mostly doing the long distance thing until Dad dumped me at Uncle Bobby’s those four months at the beginning of ’02. Her Dad ended up ditching her at Rufus Turner's place in Montana around that same time and we started meeting up regularly again. We would, uh, tell them that we were staying at a friend from school's for the weekend and then leave Friday morning to meet each other in the middle. We'd get a motel room for the weekend, or sometimes we'd just sleep in one of the cars. Advantage of being hunters' kids, I guess, no one was ever really paying much attention to us.”, Sam chuckled, “More supervision may have been helpful in preventing the resulting teen pregnancy, though.”

“You knew she was pregnant before you left then, you just didn’t bother to tell us,” Dean deduced bitterly.

“I did know, yeah. It’s why I left the way I did. Neither of us felt like we wanted to stay in the life to begin with, and once Y/C/N came along, we knew we had to get out. For her, if nothing else.”, Sam explained.

“Well, hell, Sammy. I don't even know what to say.”, Dean sighed, his face reflecting how overwhelming the last few hours had truly been for him. “I mean, you got yourself a girl and a kid? Hell, I didn’t even know you were seeing anyone back then.”

“Yeah, I know. I didn't tell anyone about her. Not because I didn't trust you or something, Dean, I just-”, Sam sighed, shaking his head before admitting, “I just wanted to have something for myself.”

****

“Dean, I told you. I’ve gotta get back by-", Sam began.

“Monday,” Dean finished, “Right. The interview.”

“Yeah.”, Sam quietly affirmed.

“Yeah. I forgot. You’re really serious about this, aren’t you? You think you’re just gonna become some lawyer, move those girls to a suburb somewhere, and white picket fence it?”, Dean asked, unsure if he was more saddened, incredulous, or morbidly amused by his brother's seeming naivete.

“Yeah, why not?”, Sam challenged.

“Does Y/C/N have any idea about the things you and Y/N have seen? Does she have any idea of what’s out there?”, Dean pushed.

“No, and she’s never going to know.” Sam stated coldly.

“Well, that’s healthy.”, Dean remarked, “You can pretend all you want, Sammy. But sooner or later you’re gonna have to face up to who you really are.”

“And who’s that?” Sam demanded, following Dean as he continued to trek across the dark bridge.

“You’re one of us.”, Dean informed his younger brother.

“No,” Sam denied, quickening his pace in order to get in front of Dean, blocking his way, “I’m not like you. This is not going to be my life, my daughter’s life.”

“You have a responsibility-,” Dean started.

“To who?!”, Sam exclaimed, “Dad and his... his crusade?! The only responsibility I have is to my wife and child, keeping them safe. I mean, if it weren’t for pictures, I wouldn’t even know what Mom looked like. And what difference would it make? Even if we do find the thing that killed her, Mom’s gone and she isn’t coming back.”

Dean shoved Sam up against the railing of the bridge, “Don’t talk about her like that.”, before shoving away from his brother and continuing along the bridge.

Then a few things happened very quickly. Dean spotted Constance’s ghost just before it took a swan dive off the bridge, said ghost then possessed the impala and attempted to run them down, causing the two brothers to bail over the bridge railing in an attempt to escape. Sam managed to cling to a support beam, while Dean plummeted into the inky depths of the river, resurfacing at the edge a few moments later. He was absolutely covered in muck and practically coughing up a lung, but at least he was alive and more or less in one piece.

****

“Hey, it’s me. It’s about 10:20, Saturday night. I just finished putting Y/C/N to bed and I thought I’d call and check in. She misses you, asked where Daddy was and when he was coming home. I told her you were on a trip for the weekend and would be home in a few days. So, don’t make a liar of me and come home soon, okay? I love you, Sammich.”

****

One thing that Sam couldn’t understand, would probably never understand, was how badly some people could mistreat those they loved.

Sam thought that might have been why Joseph Welch got under his skin so much, because Sam couldn’t believe the man could have the audacity to stand there and pretend that he hadn’t been regularly stepping out on his wife and kids. To bold faced lie and say that their marriage had been happy and trouble free, struck Sam as the ultimate act of disrespect towards the very woman the man claimed to have loved so much.

It was hard for Sam to sympathize with a man who had so clearly taken what he’d had for granted, and still, even in the aftermath of such tragedy could continue deny any wrongdoing on his part. Sam supposed that perhaps the guilt of such an admission could be enough to destroy someone should they allow themselves to acknowledge said guilt, but he almost felt that Joseph Welch would deserve that.

Sam couldn’t look at the picture of Constance without seeing Y/N, both being young mothers with young families. He couldn’t think of the Welch’s children without thinking of his own daughter. Y/C/N was just three years old, but she was already only two years shy of the age Constance’s youngest had been when they’d died.

It was just one of those cases, one of those jobs that try as he might Sam couldn’t look at without bias, couldn’t get passed his own feelings and just work the case. It felt personal.

****

When Sam caught sight of the figure standing in the middle of the road he didn’t even think, he just reacted. Immediately, he slammed down on the brake pedal in a desperate attempt to keep from killing this person who had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. Once he’d come to a full stop, heart thudding almost painfully in his chest while his breath was coming in adrenaline fuelled pants, he quickly realized his mistake as he caught sight of a ghostly woman wearing white. Only now she was no longer standing in the road. She was sitting in the backseat of the impala, her gaze meeting his own in the rear-view mirror.

“Take me home.”, Constance demanded.

“No.”, Sam stonily refused.

Suddenly the locks on all the doors went down, caging Sam in despite his desperate efforts to pry them back up, and the car roared back to life as Constance used her power to possess Dean's beloved impala for the second time since the brothers had been on this hunt. She manoeuvred the car to the end of the road, not stopping until they had pulled up in front of an old, ramshackle house.

This must have been where Constance and her family had lived. Where she’d drowned her children, where her own body had been laid to rest.

“Don’t do this.”, Sam warned, meeting the eyes of the woman in white through the rear-view mirror once again.

“I can never go home.”, Constance responded, eyes now fixed on the house looming before them, voice a mix of sadness and fear.

Sam realized, “You’re scared to go home.”

When he glanced in the backseat again a moment later, his eyes found only an empty bench causing the hair on the back of his neck to prickle and stand up. Suddenly Constance was in the passenger seat beside him, throwing him down on the bench seat and climbing up to straddle his lap.

“Hold me.”, the ghost demanded even as Sam struggled to get away, “I’m so cold.”

Sam grunted in his effort to throw her off, “You cant kill me. I’m not unfaithful. I’ve never been.”

“You will be.” Constance said simply before gripping Sam’s cheeks and pulling his unresponsive mouth against her own, kissing him forcefully. Sam for his part did not respond to the kissing, just did the only thing he could think of to help the situation. He reached blindly behind the ghost, desperately trying to reach the keys that were still in the ignition. Constance, realizing this, decided to change tactics. Abandoning her one sided make out session, she viciously dug the fingers of her right hand into the flesh in centre of Sam’s chest. Sam cried out roughly in pain, as Constance's face began flickering between the face of the pretty young woman she had been in life, and the terrifying true face of the dark spirit she had become in death.

In one moment, Sam was sure he was done for, but in the next, iron bullets came shattering through the drivers' side window, quickly dispersing the ghost and relieving the pain her claws had put him through.

Sam immediately saw his chance and took it.

“I’m taking you home,”, he said, putting the car into gear and stepping on the gas.

He ignored Dean’s concerned call of, “Sam!”, as the car sped the rest of the way up the driveway, crashing the impala straight through the front wall of the house, forcing Constance to finally go home.

****

“Okay, here’s where Dad went,” Sam said, finding the location of the coordinates their Dad had left for Dean in his journal, and marking it on one of the many maps Dean kept in his glove compartment, “It’s called Blackwater Ridge, Colorado.”

“Sounds charming,” Dean retorted, keeping his eyes on the road ahead, “How far?”

“About 600 miles.”, Sam calculated.

Dean shrugged, “If we shag ass, we can make it by morning.”

Sam looked up at his brother, struggling to find the words, “ Dean, I, um…”

“You’re not going.”, Dean realized.

“The interview’s in, like, 10 hours. I gotta be there.”, Sam explained, silently pleading for Dean to understand.

Dean fixed his eyes straight ahead, nodding, like this was the outcome he had expected all along, like he’d never believed for a moment that Sam would actually go with him anyway. Though Sam could tell by the set of Dean's jaw that it hadn't been the outcome he'd been hoping for.

“Yeah, whatever. I’ll take you home.”

****

As Sam entered his apartment, he called out, “Y/N?”, though once he was fully through the door he could see that the lights were all out, so he assumed you must have already put Y/C/N to bed and had likely settled in to rest yourself.

He found a plate of cookies on the kitchen counter with a note that read ‘Welcome home, Daddy!’ in your neat handwriting followed by a string of messy ‘xoxoxo's in Y/C/N's completely unrefined hand. He couldn't help but smile, heart warming in his chest at the thoughtfulness of his two favourite girls, as he took one of the cookies, nibbling on it as he continued through to the bedroom the two of you shared. You weren’t in bed like he had expected, but he could hear the shower running, so he flopped down on top of the covers, unconcerned, eyes closing before his head even hit the pillow. He heaved an exhausted sigh, and finally let himself relax back into the familiar bedding that smelled like you and him, that smelled like home.

Man, it was good to be home. He could have fallen asleep right there; still fully clothed, on top of the covers. He was still wearing his shoes, even.

Then something wet dripped from above onto his forehead.

Instinctively flinching away from the sensation, Sam opened his eyes only to be met with the horrifying vision of your friend, Jess, dead and pinned to the ceiling, her slashed and bloody abdomen clearly the source of the dripping.

Sam gasped in shock and horror, “No!”

Then Jessica’s corpse lit on fire, the flames quickly spreading across the ceiling. Sam quickly rolled himself off of the bed, and rushed from the room calling out for you and Y/C/N, desperate to find his family.

Where the hell were you? Were you even alive? Had whatever monster that had killed Jess gotten to the two of you as well?

He found his way to Y/C/N's bedroom, and wasn’t sure if he was relieved or not to find it empty with no signs of either his daughter or her mother. He did catch sight of Harry the bunny lying haphazardly on the floor and quickly snatched him up, gripping tightly onto the toy’s plush arm.

Y/C/N would want her teddy when he found her, he knew.

“Y/N! Y/C/N!”, Sam continued to call out.

By this time Dean, who had had a bad feeling and decided to come up to check on his brother in order to ease his mind, had broken down the front door upon hearing Sam’s distressed calls for his family. The older Winchester rushed into the apartment to find the younger tearing through the now heavily burning home, screaming yours and your daughter's names, still desperately searching.

“Sam! Sam!”, Dean yelled, trying to get Sam’s attention.

When that didn’t work he grabbed onto Sam, having to physically pull him away from his search, finally wrestling him out of the smoke and flame smothered rooms, down the stairwell, and finally out of the building. Sam never stopped trying to escape his grip, never stopped calling out for you and your daughter, even with his throat painfully raw and raspy from the heavy smoke that filled the air. Somehow, through all of it, he kept hold of Y/C/N's teddy bear.

The minute Dean had finally gotten Sam a safe distance away from the burning apartment complex, he loosened his grip on his brother, which quickly proved to be a mistake as Sam immediately attempted to run back towards the building. Dean had only just managed to grab hold of the taller man's arm, using it to push himself in front of Sam, physically blocking him from going any further.

“Let me go, Dean,” Sam roared, trying to push his way past his brother.

“Sam!”, Dean bellowed, forcing Sam to look at him, “That apartment is an inferno by now, I can’t let you go back in there.”

Sam tried one last time to shove his way past Dean, but the adrenaline was quickly leaving his system and shock and exhaustion were beginning to settle into his bones, allowing Dean to push him back with an ease that would have been almost comical in nearly any other situation.

Sam fumbled to free his cell phone from the back pocket of his jeans (Luckily it remained largely undamaged from all it had been through in the last few days), and immediately flipped it open, pressing number one on his speed dial and holding the phone up to his ear. His legs were starting to feel like jelly and he sank to his knees when they gave out, just as the phone started to ring.

I need them to be okay, I promised I would keep them safe, Sam thought, Please let them be okay.

A click as the call picked up.

“Sam?”

The moment he heard your voice, Sam dropped the phone, his body shaking with uncontrollable sobs of relief.

Distantly, Sam was aware of Dean picking up his phone from where he'd had dropped it, trying to calm your now frantic tone by assuring you that Sam was alive and in one piece.

Sam could just barely hear Y/C/N asking you if that was her Daddy on the phone. He looked down at the stuffed animal he still held in a death grip in his left hand, glad to see that beyond a bit of soot the toy was no worse for wear. He was glad for that since he doubted that much, if anything from within the apartment, had survived the fire, and he’d seen how hysterical his daughter had been on the odd occasion that Harry went missing. He didn’t want to imagine how much worse it would be if he were to have tell her that her beloved bunny had been destroyed.

****

You and Y/C/N were asleep in the backseat of the impala, while Sam and Dean sat up front, both still wide awake.

After an emotional reunion between the young family, and an equally emotional reunion between a little girl and her teddy bear, all four had piled into the impala, none of them entirely sure of where this journey would take them, or how long they’d be on the road. But Sam knew that right now, this was the right choice, the only choice he could make that would keep his family even relatively safe.

Later, you would tell him how your misgivings had only grown as the weekend progressed, finally leading you to take Y/C/N to a late showing of a new Disney movie, just to get out of the house and to attempt to distract yourself from it all.

You would cry when you told him how Jess had texted asking if she could stop by your place to grab a shower on her way to work, since your apartment was much closer to the bar she waitressed in than her own. You would remark that you wished you’d refused and told her she couldn’t, knowing that in all likelihood that one single change would have spared your friend’s life.

But for now, you slept in the backseat, with your daughter clinging to your torso as Dean drove on through the night, confident that they could make it to Lost Creek, Colorado within two days.

A part of Sam was grieving for the life you and he had worked so hard to build. A life that, for now, the two of you had no choice but to abandon. At least until whatever had killed Mary Winchester, the same creature that appeared to have killed Jessica and had likely intended to kill you and your daughter as well, had been found and dispatched. As much as you had both wanted to keep Y/C/N away from hunting, right now the safest place for her was on the road. One day soon, he hoped that would change.

For now, they had work to do.

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