Overview: He’s been by her side since the beginning. He’ll be there when everything comes to an end.
Characters: SamxReader
Word Count: 1,526
Warnings: all the angst, mild language, fluffy flashbacks
A/N: I’m excited for this one :) It’s been awhile since I’ve written for Sam, and I’ve missed him. Flashbacks are in italics.
Beta’d by my sole sister @wheresthekillswitch: “There is definitely potential here. Potential to rip out my heart. Potential to make me hate you. Lots of potential :)”
and my writing soulmate @hannahindie: “NOPE. NO. YOU WILL NOT. NO.”
and my sunflower @deanssweetheart23: “Why do I not believe her? *whispers* Because I don’t trust you, you monster.”
MASTERLIST
“This is Sam.”
My lips pull up at the sound of his name, a smile breaking through the grimace that had been claiming my features. I lean heavily against the wall and swallow hard to steady my voice.
“Hey, it’s me. It’s Y/N.”
There’s a pause, then a muffled shuffling sound, as if he’s moving to a new location, before his voice cuts back over the line. “Y/N, hey! It’s been a while.”
I can hear the smile wrapped around his words, and I can almost perfectly picture the small skin creases around his eyes that are sure to accompany it. I breathe deeply through my nose and clutch my side tighter.
“Y/N? Everything okay?”
My eyes snap back open, and I blink to bring my vision back into focus. I don’t remember closing them, and I wonder how long I’d inadvertently let the silence stretch for.
“Yeah...yeah… I just-” I clear my throat- “I’m pretty tired. Been working a case for about a week now. That’s why I’m calling, actually.”
“Did something happen?”
A sharp stab of pain shoots up my side, and I pull the phone away from my ear so he won’t hear the hiss that pushes past my clenched jaw. I breathe deeply again, shaky breaths in and out, and try to ignore the blood that’s oozing out between my fingers as they feebly attempt to hold tattered flesh together.
“Y/N?” His voice echoes out of the receiver. “Still there?”
I bring the phone back. “I’m here. I could use some help, though.”
“Where are you?”
“A tiny town in Colorado called Keota. Ever heard of it?”
“Is that in the Pawnee Grasslands?”
I’m not even surprised that he knows the area without needing a map. I’m pretty sure Sam Winchester knows a little bit about everything, like a tall, handsome computer with legs.
“Yep, though I’m more in the grasslands than the town at this point. I tracked them a little bit too far.” Air shoots out my nose in a short laugh, and a touch of bitterness coats my next words. “The hunter I was with said we should wait until the morning. Probably shoulda listened to him.” I glance to the right, taking in the mangled body in the corner for a few seconds before I have to look away. “You guys wouldn’t happen to be anywhere even remotely close to me, would you?”
More shuffling sounds from his end of the line, then- “About six hours, maybe seven depending on where you’re at exactly. I’ll get Dean and we’ll head that way as soon as the car’s loaded. Can you text me your approximate coordinates?”
I shake my head, then realize a few seconds later that he can’t see me. “I don’t think so. I’m honestly shocked that I got a signal to go through. It’ll be like the ultimate geocaching experience to find me… ‘member when we used to do that as kids? And someone left an elephant figurine that you went back and stole to give me for Christmas that year?”
A wave of dizziness washes over me, and I rest my head against the wall with a low thud. I know he’s saying something, can pick up the deep tone of his voice drifting through the line, but my brain can’t quite decipher the words. I clutch the phone tighter when I feel it threatening to slip from my grasp and focus in on the fire spreading through my veins to give my brain something to re-steady itself, something to clear out the haze that’s set in.
“Y/N?”
“Hey. Sorry… I’m, uh...I’m somewhere off of State Road 100...I think I went...north? Northeast? I’m not really sure, Sam. There’s this old shack that I’m currently holed up in.”
He’s quiet for a few seconds, and when he speaks, his voice is soft.
“What were you hunting, Y/N?”
I swallow around the lump that’s suddenly taken hold of my throat. Warm liquid pools behind my eyes, and when I shut them closed I feel some escape over the rims to trail slowly down my cheeks. The wound in my side is pulsing, each throb of pain hitting against the raw nerve of hopelessness that’s exponentially expanding in my gut.
“Werewolf. It was a werewolf pack.”
“This is ridiculous.”
I stop abruptly and whip my head around to glare at him, my sudden motion making Sam stumble slightly to avoid colliding with me. “You’re ridiculous,” I shoot back, “because this is going to be awesome.”
He rolls his eyes, but I can spot a smile on the corners of his mouth as he readjusts the shiny trash can lid we’d “borrowed” in his hands. The cold air has flushed his cheeks a light pink, and the tufts of hair sticking out of his beanie have small specks of ice in them. “I’m convinced you’re trying to kill me. Or maybe maim me enough so I won’t be able to go to Idaho tomorrow.”
I turn back around so he can’t read the expression on my face and continue the slow trek up the hill. “I still don’t know why I can’t come with you guys,” I half mumble as I pointlessly kick at a lump of snow on the ground.
A gloved hand on my arm stops my next step, and I let him tug me to face him. I have to look up to meet his gaze now, and a large part of me misses the days when I was the taller one, when it felt like me being bigger than him meant I could do a better job of protecting him.
But we both know that safety has always been a contingent fallacy.
“Y/N-” he starts, but my hand on his cheek stops him.
“It’s okay,” I say quietly. “I just wish things were different.”
Confliction creases his brow. “You know my dad… if I had a choice-”
“Sam,” I cut him off again, “it’s okay.”
He’s searching my eyes with his, and I suddenly realize that my hand is still on his face. I swallow as I let it drop, then move to give a gentle pull on his arm. “Come on, we’re almost there.”
The wind picks up its pace the closer we get to the top. By the time we crest the rise, my teeth are chattering. Sam glances over and then awkwardly pulls me into his side, crushing me between his arm and the trash can lid.
“You’re going to freeze to death,” he states as he briskly rubs up and down my arm with his hand.
I tilt my head up to smile at him. “It’ll be worth it.”
The metal lid settles against the snow with a dull crunch. Sam clambers on top first, then awkwardly bends his knees up so I can squeeze between his legs. We teeter on the ridge, the overt off-balance making a small trickle of unease rise in the pit of my stomach.
“...Maybe this isn’t the best idea after alLLLLAHHHHHHHHHH!!!!”
With one firm push of his hands against the ground, Sam’s pushed us over the edge of the hill. Everything becomes wind and cold, white and blurry flashes as we rush past trees and bushes, white noise coupled with the sharp shrieks of joy mixed with terror that are erupting from my lungs while Sam laughs loudly in my ear.
Our journey ends almost as abruptly as it starts, in a large pile of snow with bent limbs and uncontrolled giggles that are on the brink of turning into hiccups as I struggle to find the proper amount of oxygen.
“I think I-” a snort escapes from my nose- “I think I just sprained everything.”
Sam rolls over onto his back with a low groan. “Why the hell did I let you talk me into that?”
“Hey!” I object with a stabbing point of my finger, “you’re the one who pushed us off the hill.”
He stands with a grunt and brushes the clumps of snow off his coat. “It was worth it to hear you scream like a- OW!”
His hand flies to his neck, and he turns to glare at me accusingly only to quickly duck to the side as I hurl another snowball in his direction.
And tomorrow he's going to be gone, off with his brother and dad hunting something from the darker side of hell, but for now… For now the only thing to fear is the icy cold of a handful of snow being shoved down the back of my shirt as I snatch his hat off his head. His voice cracks slightly as he yells after my retreating figure, and a few short moments later I'm tackled into a pile of snow.
And as he laughs over me, offers me a hand up, helps me brush the snow off my person and slips his beanie onto my head to cover my cold ears… I know. Maybe not for the first time, but with full certainty in this moment.
