Hbospn where Sam comes out as non-binary and asks to be referred to as they/them. The struggle of coming to terms with being non-binary. Because all their life they felt like something other. Felt like a freak. A monster. All they ever wanted to be was normal. But. At the same time. There’s something in the back of their head, telling them that they just don’t fit within the hardy, blood-caked box of manhood that closes around the Winchesters like a trunk of a muscle car. They’ve read too much, absorbed too much, they know how gender works and how it’s barbed wire. Feels like barbed wire to them anyway. But, isn’t that feeling just one more thing that makes them different? Why can’t they just feel like Dean, like their Dad. Why can’t they just be a normal human man? And then they get to Stanford and they think about coming out, but it’s the early aughts, and they know if they came out, it’d just be another reason to label them as a freak. Then they find out about the demon blood and their powers and everything that comes with, and suddenly they’re confused, tangled up inside. Are they non-binary because they’re demonic? Are they genderless because they’re a monster and monsters don’t have genders? And so they put it aside and reject it and repress it until they meet the angels. These glorious beings of light and god and love and they’re genderless. Good things can be genderless too. Them and Castiel talk about it endlessly the closer they get, and each time Castiel looks at them and knows. Then they’re disillusioned of angels and once again they spiral. Often they think of Dean’s reaction. What would he say? What would he even say? It honestly isn’t until they’re living with Amelia that they get the space to think about it again. And decide that they deserve to feel free, to feel real. They’ve earned it. They’ve been free of the demon blood for a while now. They still feel this way. Feel completely removed from the concept of gender, and maybe it’s because theyre so other and maybe that’s okay. Coming out to Dean when he gets back. Dean laughing and asking them, “Do you really not remember?” And Sam, who has been to hell and back, who has faced decades of blood and muck and desperation and horror, trapped and absorbed in the steel trap of their own head, doesn’t remember, because trauma is a relentless bed fellow you never can recall in the light of morning, and then Dean lifts up his shirt, and shows them the scars from his top surgery. They never question themselves again after that.
