Dragonwitch Virgil, Prince Logan
that makes for some gay analogical my dudes.
I kinda liked drawing this, though, I didn’t feel like drawing back the hips, cause lazy and carpal tunnel.
Part One Here
Part Two Here
Part Three Here
Part Four Here
Pairing: Sam x Reader
Characters: Sam, Dean, the reader
Warnings: hurt!Sam, car crash, angst, concussed!reader, language
Tag list: @amanda-teaches @myplaceofthingsilove @spectaculicious@bambinovak @bambinovak @writingthingsisdifficult @padackles2010 @mamaredd123 @milkymilky-cocopuff @iwantthedean @zeppo-in-a-trenchcoat @spntrista @d-s-winchester @just-another-busy-fangirl @winchesterprincessbride @waywardjoy@supernaturalyobsessed @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @sandlee44 @fangirl1802@kittenofdoomage @evyiione @winchestersmut @purgatoan @mogaruke @therewillbeblood @megansescape @taste-of-dean @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @scarlet-soldier-in-an-impala@deathtonormalcy56 @wildfirewinchester @notnaturalanahi@jensen-jarpad@impalaimagining @fangirlextraordinaire @itseverythingilike@jesspfly@love-kittykat21 @mysteriouslyme81 @mrswhozeewhatsis @aiaranradnay@supernatural-jackles @girl-next-door-writes@spnsasha@27bmm@spnfanficpond @amanda-teaches @myplaceofthingsilove@spectaculicious@bambinovak @writingthingsisdifficult @spn-imagines-to-feel@spn-ficfanatic@cleverdame @saxxxology @jensen-jarpad dancingpanda137
Word count: 1616
Summary: Dean finally arrives and him and the reader help Sam, but what if the reader’s injuries are worse than even she knows?
A/N: Enjoy! As always, comments/feedback is appreciated:)
Masterlist Here!
It had been five minutes. Dean hadn’t gotten there yet. You were going to panic.
The adrenaline had dulled and, as a result, your pain had gone way up. You felt every single bruise and scrape, and your head was full on pounding. The cut on your forehead hadn’t stopped bleeding since those first moments of the crash and you weren’t sure how much blood you’d lost, probably a lot judging from how light headed you felt. Sam was still unconscious and you didn’t see any other signs of life along that dreary, desolate road. But it had started to rain.
Just as those grey clouds had promised before, it was near pouring. You found that you liked the rain, and didn’t try to shelter from it or remain dry. It soaked straight through your clothing and sent shivers down your spine- but the sensation distracted you from the situation, so it was alright. You let yourself get lost in the rain, and the haze it created. The white noised roar it created against the pavement was a good distraction, so you just sat there and watched it. Thankfully, Sam was remaining relatively dry with only a small part of the Impala open towards the sky. He was probably drenched nonetheless from just how hard the rain was falling, but at least he had some form of shelter- no matter how shitty it may have been.
You, once again, found yourself isolated in your thoughts. The phone had gone dead seconds after Dean hung up, so you couldn’t call 911. And you sure as hell weren’t going to move a one thousand pound car by yourself. All you could do was wait for Dean, and get lost in your own head while doing it.
Lying with your back to the pavement was an oddly comforting position. The rain falling on your face felt nice, save for the gnarly gash on your forehead- but you didn’t mind. There was an advantage to being in the freezing cold, everything numbed. While minutes earlier you found yourself gasping and panting at the loss of adrenaline and introduction of pain, you were fine now. If you lay still and distracted yourself enough, your broken body was reduced to nothing but a dull throb. And you were okay with that.
The concussion, that you most definitely had, muddled your thoughts. Everything felt hazy and uncertain, even making out aspects of Sam’s face felt like a strain. It was so confusing that you almost didn’t notice the roar of an engine driving down the road and heading right towards you.
Dean. It had to be Dean.
You sat up and groaned, the movement sending aches throughout your entire body. The torrential downpour was so great that you could only make out the glow of the headlights from where you were sitting.
When the car pulled closer and halted with a slight skid, you saw Dean jump out. “(Y/N), are you okay?!” He rushed over and immediately put a hand to your forehead- earning a wince from you.
“Yep, yep, peachy,” You said, sounding almost drunk with confusion. He tore off his coat and wrapped it around you, the movement in your shoulders causing you to groan.
Get up, he can’t move that car alone, some far off voice willed you to stand- so you did. Leaning on Dean for support, the two of you moved over to the Impala which was still on its side.
“He’s been unconscious for a long time,” You nodded towards Sam, who Dean was trying to slap awake. Normally you would have yelled at or scolded Dean for being so aggressive, because it sure as hell wasn’t good for Sam’s head being hit like that. But you felt so hazy, like there was something clouding your senses, almost suffocating them, that you remained silent.
“Sam, Sammy, come on wake up, Sam wake up!” Dean hit his shoulder and then motioned you to join him at the side of the window.
He opened the door and you stood back as it swung upwards. “Okay, on three I’m gonna unbuckle him and then we’re gonna haul him out of the car, okay?”
You nodded, not fully understanding what he said. Jesus, your head was messed up. After the two of you got Sam out, you needed a doctor. You’d had concussions before, so you knew what they felt like. And what you were experiencing in that moment was pretty damn close, if not worse.
“One…..two…...three!” Dean unbuckled Sam with a click and you lunged for his shoulders, catching him before he fell to the bottom of the Impala.
“D-dean!” You strained to hold the unconscious Winchester, that man was easily twice your size.
“I got it, I got it,” Dean responded, grabbing Sam and helping you hoist him up from the Impala and out onto the pavement. The two of you lay him down gently on the ground, and Dean started inspecting his injuries.
The lines of red from before had washed away from his face in the rain, which made him more bearable to look at. But the numerous scrapes and cuts scattered across his face were still bleeding, even more so than before it seemed. Shards of glass were stuck to his neck and cheeks, and you found yourself wondering how the hell you’d been spared from that particular type of injury.
“Sam!” Dean shook him again, and he still didn’t wake. You still felt pretty muddled, but you knew Sam being unconscious for so long wasn’t a good sign. You also knew that you needed to be sharp, awake and ready for what was coming. Dean wouldn’t be able to do it all alone, so you had to help him. You shook your head from side to side and blinked furiously, trying to make yourself more alert. It pretty much worked, and you found yourself repeating those motions whenever you began to slip back into that hazy state.
However, you soon failed and started to space out. You just stood there for what felt like a long time staring at the pavement, lost in your thoughts. Through the thick haze in your head, Dean’s voice was muffled- as though it was coming from far away- as he said, “(Y/N), we gotta get him to a hospital.” You didn’t know how long you’d been staring there, but something felt off- something didn’t make sense.
Your head snapped up as Dean quickly dragged you back to reality.
“Mhm,” You muttered, bending down to help pick Sam up and place him in the back of the truck Dean had probably stolen. By the looks of it, it was a beat up Ford pick up. With chipped paint and worn down tires, you could only imagine where he’d gotten it from.
“How are you feeling?” Dean asked as soon as Sam was safely in the back of the truck.
You winced as he reached up to dab your forehead with his sleeve, “Uh, fine. I, uh, I’ve had worse.”
Your trick of slapping yourself back to awareness stopped working, and you were starting to slip. Everything was hazy, your memory of even the most recent events foggy as ever. It was decided, you definitely had some sort of head injury, but you couldn’t give into it just yet. Sam was still unconscious, and Dean couldn’t do it alone.
“Are you sure? You look a bit, um, out of it.” Dean put a hand on your shoulder and you started seeing double. Quickly, you shook your head from side to side and tried to focus.
You weren’t quite certain which Dean to look at when you responded, so you just made your eyes dart between them as you said, “Yeah, D, I’m, um, fine. What about the other car? W-we have to call someone, I think?”
Dean went rigid. His brow furrowed and eyes concerned he said, “(Y/N)....we did that already.”
“Wh-what?” You were confused more than ever now, “No we didn’t, Dean.”
“Yeah, we did…(Y/N) the guy didn’t make it and we called 911 a few minutes ago- you dialed the number yourself on my phone.”
You tried to remember, you really did, but there was a gap. Your head was a 5th grader’s collage project- bits and pieces glued together to create one jumbled mess. That was how you felt, like an elementary art project done in an hour. All you could remember was getting Sam out of the Impala, spacing out for a little bit, and then putting him into Dean’s car.
“(Y/N)? Do you not remember?”
When you didn’t respond, he repeated himself- each time more worried than the last.
“(Y/N)??”
“(Y/N)!”
“What?!” You put a hand to your head as you finally answered him, it was pounding so loud now- you didn’t know what to do. Horses, that’s what you thought of. When you were little, you’d lived on a ranch. Every morning the horses would be let out of the barns and they would run wild. Even in your earliest memories, you remembered the sounds their hooves made as they beat against the old dirt road. That was what your head felt like: it was being trampled. The light from the dashboard gave you a headache, and Dean’s voice felt distant- muffled even- as if you were dreaming.
“Let me see your head.” He wasn’t asking this time.
“I’m fine, D. Just, uh, drive Sam to the place, where he can wake up...” You trailed off mid sentence, completely forgetting what you were talking about. Shit, this might have been worse than you thought.
Pairing: Sam x Reader
Characters: Sam, Reader
Warnings: nightmares, fluff
Word count: 1114
Tag list: @amanda-teaches @myplaceofthingsilove @spectaculicious @bambinovak @writingthingsisdifficult @aliensdeservebetter @spnfanficpond @amanda-teaches @myplaceofthingsilove@evyiione @mogaruke@aliensdeservebetter@27bmm@craving-cas @spnfanficpond @amanda-teaches @myplaceofthingsilove @spectaculicious@bambinovak @bambinovak@writingthingsisdifficult@padackles2010 @mamaredd123@milkymilky-cocopuff @iwantthedean@zeppo-in-a-trenchcoat @spntrista @d-s-winchester@just-another-busy-fangirl@winchesterprincessbride@waywardjoy@supernaturalyobsessed@whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname@sandlee44@fangirl1802@kittenofdoomage @evyiione @winchestersmut@purgatoan@mogaruke @therewillbeblood @megansescape @taste-of-dean@leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @scarlet-soldier-in-an-impala@deathtonormalcy56@wildfirewinchester @notnaturalanahi@jensen-jarpad@impalaimagining@fangirlextraordinaire@itseverythingilike@jesspfly@lovekittykat21@mysteriouslyme81@mrswhozeewhatsis@aiaranradnay@supernatural-jackles@girl-next-door-writes@spnsasha@27bmm@spnfanficpond @amanda-teaches@myplaceofthingsilove@spectaculicious@bambinovak@writingthingsisdifficult@spn-imagines-to-feel@spn-ficfanatic@cleverdame@saxxxology@jensen-jarpad @keepcalmandcarryondean dancingpanda137
Summary: The reader has nightmares and decides to go to Sam’s bed instead of her own one night.
Sleeping was hell, it always had been. But since you began hunting, it had gotten so much worse. Every night you’d wake up in a cold sweat, panting and shaking from the night terrors. These terrors plagued your sleep, made you fear unconsciousness and the gruesome images that accompanied it. It was always the same one: you were trapped somewhere dark and cold. You could hear Sam calling out to you, but you didn’t know where his voice was coming from. And then the room would start filling with water. It would rush around your ankles, making small, white eddies. Then it would get to your knees and you’d start shivering, calling out to Sam. All the while he would be yelling back, screaming your name and trying to find you. But then the water would rise to your stomach, even colder than before. And you’d start yelling even louder, trying to wade away. But the further you went into the blackness, the higher the water rose. Until it was up to your neck, you’d then tilt your head up towards the ceiling, gasping rapidly. And even though you were yelling at the top of your lungs and Sam was yelling back, he would always be too late. You’d see him just as your head went under and the water filled your lungs. And you were drowning, your throat burning and body thrashing. Then when you woke up you’d be gulping for air, unable to shake the feeling that you were drowning. One night the terrors became too unbearable, and when you woke up you needed safety. Needed some sort of human connection to get you through the rest of the night, so you had decided to find Sam.
When you woke up with a hand to your throat you were gasping for breath, chest rising and falling in a wild, erratic pattern. Your eyes searched the room for any sign of normalcy, any comforting thing to ease you from the stress of the nightmare. And you found it, your sheer white curtains swaying from side to side. The soft, swishing sound they made as a breeze moved them calmed you down a little. They made it so you were able to lie back down and close your eyes again. But no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake that terrible feeling. You knew it was ironic, you felt unsafe in a bunker warded against every danger known to man.
Putting a hand to your head you started taking deep, slow breaths. But nothing was working, you couldn’t fall back asleep and you couldn’t calm yourself down. So you decided to go wake up Sam, hoping he wouldn’t mind. You and Sam had this strange relationship, the two of you were somewhere between friends and lovers. You hadn’t ever told him about the night terrors, you’d always suffered in silence. But tonight was different, maybe Sam could actually help.
With a groan you peeled the covers to the side and got out of bed. Immediately you hissed at the cold wooden floor on your bare feet. Your pajamas were meant for warmer temperatures. The shorts and tank top you were wearing left both your arms, stomach and thighs exposed to the chilled night air. Shivering, you quickly ran to Sam’s room. Down the hall and to the left of yours, it was somewhat of a hike. And in the pitch black bunker, you were stumbling and bumping into the corners of tables.
When you finally arrived at Sam’s door, you were surprised that you hadn’t woken either of the brothers yet. Filled with swearing and loud groans from various furniture you bumped into, the walk there hadn’t exactly been quiet. But when you opened his door up just a crack, you found him still asleep. He was lying on his stomach with his arms wrapped around the same pillow his face was buried in. You watched the steady rise and fall of his back and envied him, how easily he slept so soundly. You also felt bad for waking him, if you were ever to sleep like that you’d kill the person who woke you up.
But with a breath in, you approached his bedside and tapped his shoulder. When he only stirred but didn’t wake, you lightly shoved him.
“Sam?”, you whispered.
You saw his eyebrows crease together as he mumbled, “What?”, his voice groggy.
His eyes were open now and he registered that it was you peering over him, “(Y/N)?”
“Yeah, hi. Sorry to wake you”, you whispered again.
“No that’s fine what’s up?”, he asked rubbing his face and looking up at you.
“Um, I can’t sleep in my room. It’s to big and too far away from you and Dean...” your voice trailed off into even more of a whisper, “could I maybe sleep with you?”
His eyebrows rose in surprise, which you didn’t take as a good sign. What if he turned you away and you had to go back to your own room to face the night alone?
But he then nodded his head and scooted over, leaving you a space beside him, “Yeah, of course, come here”
You breathed a sigh of relief and lay down next to him, already feeling warmer. You didn’t edge closer to him, even though you wanted to- he was a god damn furnace. So the two of you whispered sleepy good nights to each other and then drifted off. To your surprise, you found yourself falling into a dreamless sleep sooner than you ever had.
It wasn’t perfect, you still tossed and turned and mumbled in your sleep. But you didn’t have the night terror. That horrid, petrifying terror which you spent so many nights running from didn’t return.
Around 2 AM you woke again, not from fright though. Opening your eyes you found Sam’s arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders and waist. You looked up at his face, which was resting on the top of your head. You saw his eyes moving back and forth beneath their lids, no doubt he was trapped in a dream. Your gaze trailed down to where his hand was tightly clutching your hip. His fingers gripped your bare skin, digging into where your tank top left your waist exposed.
You then saw his eyes flutter open and meet with yours.
“Hi,” he mumbled, voice deep and raspy from just waking up.
“You’re not on your side of the bed”, you teased.
But his grip on you only tightened as he sighed and grinned, “What are you gonna do about it?”
“Absolutely nothing”, you laughed back, burying your head further into his chest.
Pairing: Sam x Reader
Characters: Sam, Reader, Dean
Warnings: violence, soulless!sam, swearing, all the angst
Summary: Sam’s soulless and couldn’t care less about anything or anyone, including his long time girlfriend, the Reader. She’s at her wits end and doesn’t know how much longer she can put up with him.
Tag list: @amanda-teaches @myplaceofthingsilove@evyiione @mogaruke@aliensdeservebetter@27bmm@craving-cas @spnfanficpond @amanda-teaches @myplaceofthingsilove @spectaculicious@bambinovak @bambinovak@writingthingsisdifficult@padackles2010 @mamaredd123@milkymilky-cocopuff @iwantthedean@zeppo-in-a-trenchcoat @spntrista @d-s-winchester@just-another-busy-fangirl@winchesterprincessbride@waywardjoy@supernaturalyobsessed@whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname@sandlee44@fangirl1802@kittenofdoomage @evyiione @winchestersmut@purgatoan@mogaruke @therewillbeblood @megansescape @taste-of-dean@leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @scarlet-soldier-in-an-impala@deathtonormalcy56@wildfirewinchester @notnaturalanahi@jensen-jarpad@impalaimagining@fangirlextraordinaire@itseverythingilike@jesspfly@lovekittykat21@mysteriouslyme81@mrswhozeewhatsis@aiaranradnay@supernatural-jackles@girl-next-door-writes@spnsasha@27bmm@spnfanficpond @amanda-teaches@myplaceofthingsilove@spectaculicious@bambinovak@writingthingsisdifficult@spn-imagines-to-feel@spn-ficfanatic@cleverdame@saxxxology@jensen-jarpad @keepcalmandcarryondean dancingpanda137
Sam had been soulless for weeks now. He was the complete opposite of the boy you once knew and loved; unfeeling, uncaring- everything the real Sam wasn’t. You hadn’t definitively broken up with him, but the both of you knew it was over, and only one of you cared. So there was this weird tension between you and him, this whisper of what your relationship once had been. Sometimes you’d trick yourself into believing he was the normal Sam. Like when you saw him researching a case, eyebrows furrowed the same way as before. But you knew there wasn’t anything but cold, unrelenting steel behind those beautiful eyes of his.
Even the little things were different. He never smiled, never laughed- unless it was at someone’s expense-never joked or flirted. Not anymore at least. The two of you used to spend entire days just lying in bed together. Wrestling, cuddling, telling stories- you did it all together. Never getting enough of each other and never wanting those days to end, those were the happiest times of your life. But that was all ruined now. He was gone and had left you to compensate with this unfeeling shell of a person.
You weren’t the type of person to roll over and accept the new Sam, you weren’t Dean. You were angry, rageful even. You hated seeing him everyday. You hated those few seconds when you forgot he wasn’t your Sam, he was soulless. You hated hunting with him and having to fend for yourself, because he couldn’t care less if you lived or died. You hated the way he looked at you, eyes filled with nothing but lust. He wanted you solely for your body, and would happily use and then discard you if you let him- you vowed never to let him. You hated the way he shamelessly flirted with you, his hands ghosting over your hips and upper thighs. And most of all, you hated arguing with him. The two of you were constantly bickering and fighting, much to Dean’s annoyance. Soulless Sam and you did not get along, to say the least. He often played dirty though, knowing exactly what to say to you. Exactly which insults hit the hardest.
The night you left, he had done exactly that. Mocked and taunted until you couldn’t take it anymore. You had left- abandoning him and Dean, and ended up regretting it every day since.
You, Sam and Dean had just finished a hunt. A particularly nasty one involving ghouls feeding on families moving into a new apartment complex. Sam had been no joy to work with, as usual. He was impatient, frustrated, just wanting the hunt to be over. Instead of hunting to save people as he had before, you knew Sam only did it for the rush. Killing a monster, taking a life, it was a high even you were guilty of seeking out. And now that Sam was completely driven by his id, all he wanted to do was hunt and kill.
You were covered in dirt and blood and already in a terrible mood. The small motel the three of you were crammed into coupled with the tension between you and Sam, the powder keg was bound to explode.
“You seriously almost got us all killed back there, (Y/N)”, Sam addressed you, clearly annoyed.
“Sorry I put innocent people’s lives before yours, I wouldn’t of have to if you just killed the damn ghouls.”, you retorted, not taking any of his shit tonight.
“Both of you, cool it.”, Dean interluded, but neither of you heeded his warning.
“I was outnumbered three to one, you’d have been dead if you were in my position”, Sam pressed on, your face flushed with anger.
“I definitely wouldn’t have because I know a knife from a god damn lamp”, you were yelling now. Hours before, Sam had been cornered by the three ghouls while you and Dean untied and freed the people they’d been holding captive. He stupidly let go of his knife and it was sent flying across the room, he improvised and used the nearest table lighting as a weapon instead. That mistake nearly cost all of your lives, and you weren’t about to let him forget it.
Sam all but growled in your direction, nose curled up in a snarl and hands balled into fists.
“You and your god damn feelings, always getting in the way”, he yelled back.
“My ‘god damn feelings’,” you said, mocking his own voice, “are the only reason you’re still alive!!”
You were referring to the countless times you’d made the hard decision in order to save his life. He’d always done the same for you too, putting you above others and fighting tooth and nail to save you. But that was before he lost his soul, this Sam wouldn’t bat an eye if you were gutted right in front of him.
“Please, you know I don’t need you. I never needed you”, Sam yelled again, slightly smiling at the hurt look he saw flash on your face.
“Shut the hell up, Sam, I’m not in the mood”, you replied while turning your heel to leave, the fight gone from your voice.
But he saw this, saw how his words impacted you. So he just kept going, “I mean seriously, what was I thinking. I wasted years of my life with you. I mean yeah, you were okay in bed, but all the lovey-dovey crap. It was just that- crap”, he yelled, voice hoarse and unforgiving.
“Sammy, shut the hell up and walk away”, Dean cut him off when he saw you weren’t going to.
His insults were getting to you. You’d become immune to almost anything Sam said at this point; but when he insulted your relationship, the people you’d been before he lost his soul, it stung every time. Of course he knew this, and since he had no conscious telling him to stop, he just pressed on.
“Dean stay out of this, I’m not finished.”, you braced yourself, wishing the motel was more than one room so you could get away from him.
“I can see you hate me, (Y/N). I see you still have this fantasy that I’ll snap out of it or something- magically become the person I was before. But I don’t want to be him again, I wont do it. He was weak and pathetic.”, he emphasized the insults hurled at his old self, just to spite you. And with a rush of anger you found your fist connecting with his jaw. You heard a loud crunch and knew you had hit your target.
Sam was on you in an instant, hands at your throat and pressing you against the wall.
“Sam! Hey!”, Dean’s voice echoed off the dingy walls of the motel. He was clawing at his brother fiercely, so were you. But you weren’t trying to get Sam off of you, you were trying to hurt him back. You punched his cheeks, his lip, his eyes. You found bruises and cuts quickly forming all over his face. But his hands were still around your throat, squeezing hard.
With a grunt and a yell, Dean finally managed to get Sam off you. You began gasping and grabbing your neck, breathing deeply and still not getting enough oxygen. Minutes later, when the burn had almost left your lungs and Sam had gotten an icepack for his face, you decided you were going to leave.
“What the hell you two?! Can’t you get along for one god damn day, I mean come on”, Dean yelled at both you and Sam. But you didn’t care, his words barely registered to you, you’d already made up your mind.
Yes, it would kill you to leave Dean. But you couldn’t do it anymore. You couldn’t deal with seeing the man you’d once loved so, so deeply become this soulless monster. You knew you were going to hate yourself for giving up when Sam had never given up on you. But you also knew you were at your breaking point.
You decided to tell Dean first, Sam wouldn’t care.
“Dean,” you said, lips pursed and arms crossed. His eyebrows pressed together, he could read you like a book and knew what you were planning on doing.
“Tonight?”, he asked. The look on his face almost broke your heart. He was so sad for you, so sad for what Sam had become and for what you’d become from seeing him like that everyday. You also saw betrayal, that was the worst part. Although he’d never admit it, you knew he felt abandoned. Which you were, abandoning him, and you’d hate yourself for it.
You nodded, “Dean I can’t anymore, I...I can’t”, you let out a breath.
“Okay, come here, kid”, he pulled you into a hug. Years of love and friendship were wrapped into the embrace, all the good and the bad and the ugly of your time on the road together. You felt him choking back tears, but you couldn’t hold back your own. They came down hot and heavy as you buried your face into his shoulder- knowing you were going to miss him terribly.
About 15 minutes later, you and Dean had packed your belongings. You had decided to try one last time with Sam, even though you knew it was useless.
“Sam, I’m leaving.”, you turned towards him, searching desperately for any hint of emotion in his face.
You found none as he responded, “Okay.”
And that was the moment it happened, when your heart really cleaved in two. He couldn’t care less, and you didn’t know why you ever expected him to.
“I’m sorry, Sam I can’t do it anymore. I love you, and I know that word means nothing to you right now. But if you ever get your emotions back, ever get your soul back.....” your voice trailed off into a weak sob, “Let me know, and I’ll come running, I promise.”
But Sam just shrugged, promising in return that it would never happen.
