#sam's wig

[deanwasalwaysbi]

This is what they think 50 looks like

[moonblbs]

Spn writers: we went really into detail we didnt want to miss out anything

Also spn writers:

[sprotteslaettberg]

Say about the finale whatever you want, but on a positive note, at least we didn't have to witness Jensen in a shitty party city wig

[tempusedax-rerum]

wigpocalypse begins

join us

[districtsleepsalonetonight]

You’re laughing. They made that poor man walk around with a mop on his head for the last 40 years of his life and you’re laughing.

[trash-panda-no5]

Wow Supernatural really ended... like that...

No Cas? None? Sam marries a faceless brunette who you see in the background of one (1) shot of him and his son? Sam's Party City wig? A single line about how Cas helped reform heaven and nothing else?

Tragic.

[cornflowershade]

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27827275

“What should we name him?” asked Sam’s wife, in a nondescript sort of way. “Dean,” said Sam, without hesitation. “I’ll name him after my big brother.” “You didn’t tell me you had a brother,” said Sam’s wife. “What? Oh, I guess not. There wasn’t time for that in our character arc. But the important thing is I’m telling you now, right? We have the rest of my life to get to know eachother properly.” “Of course,” Sam’s wife replied, smiling. “I love you.” “I love you too,” said Sam, looking into his wife’s blurry face. He squinted. For a second he wondered if he needed glasses. But anyway, she was beautiful and he was lucky to have her. He was lucky to have all of this. A loving wife who he met at the… at the… Sam shook himself. A loving wife, a son, a home that he bought a few… months ago? Was it a few months? Or a year? Come to think of it, it almost felt like a few days. Sam pushed away the nagging feeling. “I went to a painter today and had some things commissioned for our house. Pictures, to remember my family by.” “I’m sure they’ll make a beautiful altar, dear.” “You mean mantle?” “Yes dear. That’s what I said, dear.” “Right.” Sam looked down at Dean Jr. Dean Jr. smiled back.

Once Dean Jr. was a toddler, Sam’s wife decided to embroider their child some custom dungarees with his name on them. Sam insisted they were called overalls. Whenever he did, his wife shot him a dirty look because she was British. At least, that’s what Sam assumed. She looked kind of British, anyway. And no American he’d ever met called them “dungarees.” Sometimes his wife’s British-ness made Sam remember Rowena. When that happened he had to remind himself that he liked his wife. Very much. And anyway, he couldn’t date Rowena even if he wanted to because she was queen of… queen of… something. Anyway, Rowena was off limits now. So was… the other woman. Sometimes he would begin to remember her, but then his wife would smile at him or make him a sandwich (not in a sexist way of course) and that other woman would leave his mind again. The brunette. The one who came back to life… it felt like he’d known her a lifetime ago.

Sam stopped hunting because his wife said it was dangerous. He trusted his wife’s judgement.

He trusted his son, too.

After Sam’s wife died offscreen of unknown causes, Sam and Dean Jr. buried her in the back garden, next to Miracle, who had passed away due to sadness after realizing that Dean was gone and he was stuck with Sam, who didn’t let him sleep on the bed. Miracle had missed Dean’s good morning hugs. So, death was the only option, because as everyone knows it’s where you go to be happy. (This is why Dean had let himself die instead of letting Sam call an ambulance. He understood that life is miserable even when you have free will. He also had a feeling that Cas was alive again and wanted to avoid confronting his feelings before the angel showed up. But that’s all a story for another time.)

Sam helped Dean Jr. with his homework a lot, and sometimes they played catch in the front yard. It was boring when his wife wasn’t there to cheer them on from the front porch, but he played with his kid anyway because it seemed like the fatherly thing to do. To honor his wife’s memory, Sam didn’t go back to hunting. He also didn’t become a lawyer because she had said it was sexist of him to be a man with ambitions. That’s also why he stopped being a witch. He did ward his house though, and then he bribed his son into getting an anti-possession tattoo. (Dean Jr. could be stubborn, but a little money would make the kid do anything. It was very useful. Sometimes Sam would pay him off to wash the dishes. It was great. The china was always very shiny.)

Sam worked as a lumberjack and it was very high paying. This meant he didn’t have to hustle pool anymore, and credit card scams were a thing of the past. Every day, when Sam got back from work, he was very worn out. Dean Jr., who Sam thought was very nice, usually handed him a homemade energy drink when he got back. It was very tasty, and the sweetness masked the flavour of the poison it was spiked with. Sam thought he was very healthy because of the energy drinks, but actually it made his hair go gray and weird. The drink was probably magic because it siphoned the life from Sam’s hair into Dean Jr.’s hair. Dean Jr. was very happy with his long locks. However, Dean Jr, was not totally content. He was a sociopath and very good at acting, so he fooled Sam very well, but actually he was filled with turmoil because he wanted to be rich but wasn’t. That’s when he concocted a plan. He switched up the poison in the energy drinks, and that’s when it all started. Sam began to die… of arthritis. He wasn’t even that old, but Dean Jr. didn’t care. He wanted the inheritance.

When Sam was on his deathbed, beside the family altar, Dean Jr. held his hand, smiling his most convincing smile. “It’s okay,” he said. “You can go now.” Sam smiled back. That’s the last thing he had said to his brother. This was so symbolic. I mean, to be fair he never asked the kid to tell him it was okay to go, but he was sure Dean Jr. was just trying to be considerate. There’s no way such a heartful boy would try to rush him off in his last moments. “I said, you can go now,” Dean. Jr. repeated, kindly, just in case Sam didn’t hear him the first time. Sam nodded and died. Dean Jr. smiled. All that money Sam built up from the lumberjack gig was his now. And so was the impala. He had everything. He thanked his mothers genetics that he had been able to pull this off. She had been a siren, so she was very good at getting what she wanted from people. Dean Jr. was also a siren, so he was also very good at getting what he wanted from people.

In heaven, Sam reunited with Dean.

“Hi Sammy,” said Dean. They hugged.

The end.

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27827275

[destielle]

..wh--