likely_evil: (Thinking - Sunlight)
Sam could feel the pain in the atmosphere when he came back to the penthouse. He had left Ruby and Michael to talk, knowing that he couldn't interfere or try to influence either of them. Ruby needed to find the memories on her own because Michael needed her to, not because Sam wanted her too.

But as he walked back into the penthouse and saw his son standing at the office window looking out at the city, a part of his heart broke. Michael was standing exactly how Sam stood when he was faced with horrible thoughts and unable to process them - forehead pressed to the always cool glass, staring at the dots of people moving and not trying to let the thoughts in his head crash over him.

Taking a deep breath, he moved silently behind his son and just let his arms come down on Michael's shoulders, and them gently pulled him back against his chest. They both stared out the window together, not speaking. The only thing that shifted was Michael's hand which eventually reached up to hold his father's.

"It will eventually be alright, son," he said softly after awhile, resting his chin on the top of Michael's head. "The most important thing is that she's back, and trying to remember. We have all the time in the world to give her, so don't let this break you too."

. . . )
likely_evil: (Happy - Smile)
ooc: this is the picture for the prompt

It was a simple ceremony on Angeline's property. The winds from the bayou were light as the sun was starting to set. There was a small archway that had been put just past the gardens, and two men stood there. One man was dressed in black - not a priest but a friend of the mother's who was able to perform civil ceremonies.

The other man was Sam Winchester. He was thirty two, and as he stood in his bare feet, he looked to finally be at peace with his life. The white peasant shirt blew in the breeze, and his khaki pants went down just to his ankles. He was happy and nervous, a ball of energy that was barely able to contain himself while he tried not to bounce on the balls of his feet.

There were a few blankets set up with people sitting in groups. Friends that Sam had made over the last few years. Friends of Desiree that had little drums and flutes on their blankets and they all started to play as the doors of the plantation house opened. Angeline and Desiree's mother, Paulina, walked arm in arm towards Sam. They stopped and Angeline ran a hand along Sam's face, smiling.

"The life of my daughter has brought me many things, and in her death she gave me not only a grandson, but you. You were a broken child when I found you, Samuel, and now you are a strong man. You have become a son to me, and I am overjoyed that I get to be the one to share this moment with you and bless you into the next part of your life."

. . . )
likely_evil: (Evil - Lucifer Broken Bynd Repair)
“Lie to me."

It was a rat infested motel that Sam found himself in on November 2nd, 2012. He was twenty nine now, and it was seven years since Jess had died. Over three since Lucifer was set free. Since Dean told Sam they were better off apart and goodbye. And now it was three months since Sam had found Bobby dead in his wheelchair and buried him.

Sam couldn't even find his brother if he tried. The cell towers were one of the first things to go in the apocalypse. He didn't dare go near a hunter cell now - what was left after the Croats knew exactly who he was and either wanted to kill him... or worse. Even Ellen and Jo had told him to hit the highway.

Sorry Sam, but you're poison. You want to do us a favor? Stay far away from us.

Fat chance that did. The next day Jo wandered in, covered in blood and her eyes were black as night. Sam was barely able to exorcise the demon out, and Jo was already dead in his arms. Two more graves, and that was the night Sam fell off the wagon and started to drink heavily again.

. . . )
likely_evil: (Pout - Pray for my Soul)
All elephants are gray, but not all gray things are elephants. -Bones, Lance Sweets

Sam was quiet, waiting in the lobby with his hands in the huge pocket in front of the hoodie. A starved puppy in huge clothes, as one of the nurses had described him as they passed by. He tilted his head just enough so that he could hide behind his bangs and not have to see their faces.

He knew what they thought of him. Just another addict who threw his life away for a quick high. He had seen those looks for the past five years, and he was sick of them - because they were right. He had thrown everything away, and now his brother was somewhere paying for it all. It wasn't fair, and Sam wished to God he could change it all.

Boney fingers played with a pill bottle, the first month of a six month regiment. They said he had been lucky; caught it early on and can be fixed. Nothing major or irreversible. But still, it was a serious disease and he should have known better. He did know better and how this had happened he could only blame on the things he did while he was high.

Just thinking about it made him twitch and his foot start to bounce as he looked again at the clock, then the door. He needed to get out of this place. They were trying to help him but it was over two weeks now and he was going crazy just sitting there doing nothing but being told to talk about his feelings and not to puke back up his breakfast because he needed to put some meat on his bones.

. . . )
likely_evil: (Dean - he takes care of me)
Inspired by this pic and follows this piece in detective!verse

The funny thing was, Sam didn't remember exactly when he had gotten in over his head. He didn't remember much at all; not in the years since Dad had died, that's for sure. The streets of Chicago were not friendly, and Sam Winchester had learned that fact the hard way.

His father had been a big time Detective with the Chicago PD. Detective Sergent. Mom had died when Sam was a baby, so all he ever had to look up to was his dad and of course, Dean. When Dean decided to become an officer as well, Sam decided he would too. But as he hit puberty and suddenly became a scrawny, clumsy beanpole... Dad said it wouldn't be something he could do.

All Sam wanted to do was make Dad proud. So he decided he was going to be a lawyer. A prosecutor even. Dad and Dean would arrest the bad guys, and Sam would make sure they stayed behind bars. A family cleaning up the streets of Chicago one crime at a time.

Then the dream fell apart that day John Winchester died, taking a bullet for Dean's life. Everyone said he was a hero. That Dean would be dead otherwise. But at the funeral, Sam looked over at his brother and he saw the truth written on Dean's face: Dean had gotten Dad killed.

Everything went downhill from there, and his life slipped away like sand between his fingers. He couldn't concentrate on classes now because there was no one to make proud. His straight A's turned into C's and D's and they tried to convince him to take a leave of absence before they just kicked him out. Sam didn't tell Dean, though. He got up every day, dressed and headed out only to spend the day just walking along the streets.

. . . )
likely_evil: (Sad - Broken)
The silence was torture.

"Why do you keep bringing it up?" Dean asked and Sam shut himself back down because he didn't want to make his brother mad. After everything he had done, making Dean mad was the last thing Sam wanted.

Sam wanted to apologize. But how does someone say they are sorry for the apocalypse? Especially when he could have stopped it long ago by just listening to his brother. Dean - the one who had always taken care of him and Sam had turned a deaf ear to him.

For what? Thinking he could be the hero all because a demonic whore with false promises whispered in his ear while he fucked her to forget about the pain of life?

When did you fall from heaven, Sammy? When did you lose your faith in yourself?

Not talking was going to drive him mad. He needed to say something - anything! He needed Dean to scream at him, throw down and beat the crap out of him. SOMETHING that was among the Winchester line of communication.

But no. Dean didn't want to talk.

. . . )
likely_evil: (Other - I'm Sam motherfucken Winchester)
Yes folks... Time to play CHOOSE YOUR OWN ADVENTURE! Here are the rules:

1. Post a reply with your muse and verse. (please, one muse per mun for now otherwise I'll go insane very quickly, so choose carefully)

2. I will start a separate adventure with just Sam and your muse. After each section, I will give you three choices of where the story will go. You reply with your choice and I will continue.

3. I am hoping to have a full story done within 10-15 replies.

4. No smut sorry ladies

Also please note that the mun will be taking Sam along with her to DragonCon come Friday morning. I will pick up where I left off when I return, so no worries if I disappear from Friday until Monday.

Let the games begin!

and since this is a JustPrompts prompt response, no need to do it like a meme in other journals.
likely_evil: (Pout - i have my secrets)
ooc: inspired by this picture. Takes place the morning after this.

Sam turned over in his bed, unable to sleep. He was shaking and covered in sweat, having woken up with the nurse's screams in his ears. It had been a few days now since he had that nightmare, and he had hoped that they were gone.

Please no! PLEASE!

He tried to fake sleeping, but his brother was too good. "You ok, Sammy?"

"Yeah." Sam sat up, rubbing his eyes with a hand. "Just not tired."

"Uh huh."

Sam looked over at the clock. "It's almost morning anyway. I'll go get us breakfast."

Dean rolled over to watch Sam a moment. "Sam... take a gun with you."

. . . )
likely_evil: (Lana - together)
It's not enough to say that I miss you
I feel so untouched right now
Need you so much somehow

Sam owed a lot to his brother these last two months. It felt like Dean had given up his life to take care of his pain in the ass little brother. Between the withdrawal symptoms making Sam sicker than he had ever felt some days, plus the dread in waiting for the other demonic shoe to drop... maybe it was easier to just take care of him than worry about what was to come.

Part of taking care of Sam seemed to involve the promise of them passing through Smallville on occasion, just so Sam could spend anywhere from a few hours to a day with Lana. It was part of his mental health that needed it... plus Sam missed Lana so much when they were on the road, unable to talk beyond a phone call or text message.

The stop in Smallville this time was not something Sam knew was going to happen, so Lana had no idea that they were in town. Dean had checked them into a motel - two separate rooms - and told Sam they had two days and he didn't expect to see Sam for most of it (but to check in).

Sam held his cell phone in his hand a moment to call Lana and let her know, then stopped himself. A smirk came to his face as he thought about something that Lana had always strongly hinted at wanting to do.

He'd be embarrassed by the thought of doing what he was about to do, but he had nothing else to do, and he really wanted to see her as soon as possible.

Which would be the reason why Sam appeared at her office building, a trench coat pulled tight around him as he strolled to the hall where her corner office was. He talked with her secretary, and she recognized his name from all the times Lana had talked about him. Lana was at a meeting, but the secretary was willing to help him in his romantic notions.

They closed the shades, turned down the lights, and Sam reclined in one of the guest chairs just hidden from the entrance so that Lana wouldn't see him until she closed the door. And her secretary would leave for lunch when she got back, closing and locking the outer doors as she left so that they wouldn't be disturbed during a very special lunch meeting.
likely_evil: (Happy - Smile open shirt)
ooc: in response to this. Michael and Bela ([ profile] enjoythe_ride) are used with love and permission.

Sam couldn't believe it. He had seen it with his own eyes, but still it was too amazing to have happened.

His baby boy walked. Ran. Right to him.

The pride going through him just wasn't something he could even measure. Mikey was growing up so fast and Bela was the one who witnessed all of the firsts. Dean had told him that it was normal when Sam pouted after missing each one, but this memory was going to be his.

Dinner was forgotten as he spent the next hour putting Mikey on the ground, letting him explore the world now on two legs. He winced the few times his son took a bad fall, but watched him just pick himself up and keep trying.

He had learned months ago now that his son was smart and could figure a lot of things out for himself. But it was moments like this where Sam was reminded about that. However, when Michael was about to take a header into the television stand, Sam was up and grabbed him before anything was broken or bruised.

The sound of keys in the door got Sam's attention and he went into the hallway. Bela was just stepping in, tossing her keys on the table when Sam appeared a few feet away from her, Michael in his arms. "Hey."

"Hey." Bela looked towards the kitchen. "Something happen? I don't see dinner ready."

"You could say that." Leaning down, Sam put their son on the ground on his two feet. "Go to Mommy."

Michael smiled his chubby baby grin and started to walk to Bela with his arms out. Bela gasped, watching as their son made it about eight steps, then fell forward onto his hands and knees. He stayed there for a second, then kept crawling to get to her, laughing.

Sam leaned against the wall, arms crossed as he watched Bela pick Michael up and hug him, then kiss his baby belly. "He did it.. he really did it..." Bela walked over, and Sam pulled them both close, kissing Bela quickly.

"Yes, he did." Sam grinned.

"But that doesn't give you an excuse not to have made dinner."

Sam rolled his eyes, then looked at Michael and shook his head. "We can never win. Remember that."

Michael's only answer was a giggle and clapping his hands together happily.
likely_evil: (Dean - Distance)
ooc: next in the storyline after this.

"Two years, Ruby."

"Sam, I didn't promise you an overnight fix."

"Two. Fucken. Years."

Ruby rolled her eyes and ate another fry while she watched Sam flipping through the rough journal he always carried. It was something he had started to write in about the last time they had seen Dean Winchester - a fact that Sam was going back and checking by reading his old entries.

"And think of how far you've come in those two years, Sam. You've moved in leaps and bounds because you haven't had anything to hold you back. We're so close..."

"We've been close for over a year now, Ruby." Sam rolled his eyes up to look at her through his bangs. Time had taken it's toll on the younger Winchester, as well as his powers. His face was harder with deep shadows under his eyes. His hair was long and shaggy, long overdue for a trim. His jaw was set in a permanent frown, the smirk and fun in his personality hidden with the soft reservedness that Sam had shown for most of his life.

. . . )
likely_evil: (Beth - together)
ooc: takes place after this.

The mission over, Sam slept for a good four hours on the CONTROL jet that brought him back to the states. Partially it was from exhaustion, though the drugs to numb the pain from the bullet wound on his arm were helping nicely.

Once he got back to base, he was patched up better and spent a few hours in debriefing. Somewhere along the way he also managed to catch a quick shower, though he didn't have a shaving kit at work to get rid of the scruff.

After that, he sat and talked with the Chief. He needed advice about what to do, and he would be the only one who would know Sam and Beth well enough to give good advice.

. . . )
likely_evil: (Angry - Trapped)
The greatest conflicts are not between two people, but between one person and himself.
-Garth Brooks

"Hey guys... this isn't funny. Guys? GUYS!"

The first few hours were full of screams, pounding fists, digging nails into the edges of the window plate and the door frame until his fingers were bleeding and his throat was raw. He slowly slid to the ground, gasping curses and damnation to anyone who could still hear him. For all he knew, they were gone and he would never see them again.

That was the fear that brought nightmares when he passed out. Nightmares of him becoming a demon and killing people. Family. finally he woke up screaming, covered in sweat.

He needed it. He needed it bad and he was shaking and it hurt.

"Dean... Dean let me out. You have to let me out..."

. . . )
likely_evil: (Samael - staring)
What is something forbidden that you want to indulge in?

There are nights were Samael still wakes up and can taste her against his lips; closes his eyes and remembers the press of her body against his, Lilith's cries of ecstasy in his ears that keeps him coming back for more.

To please her. To pleasure her. To be her king to her Queen in Hell.

He had been powerful there. No demon dared to disobey him. He could still feel the hellfire in his veins as he remembered being able to rip demons apart with his bare hands, and then rewarded as her fingers laced through his hair and she pulled him down for a kiss.

. . . )
likely_evil: (Samael - staring)
[verse: [ profile] greypicketfence in which Sam is in Hell as Lilith's consort. After this but before this]

Samael's head rolled on the rack. Today was a bad day and Samael knew he deserved the punishment that had been dealt to him. He had refused her and that meant he was back with Alastair. But this was a short punishment - only 6 months. And he took it, giving the screams Alastair loved to hear so that it went faster.

It hurt less when you screams, Samael had learned.

And now there was the gentle touch on his face, and he opened his eyes to look at her. Lilith smiled at him, her other hand gently pushing back his hair from his face. "My darling, do you feel you have repented from you sins against me?"

"Yes, my love," Samael stated, turning his head to kiss her palm in apology. Lilith smiled at that and nodded, the hooks retracted and he slid off the rack. But he did not fall this time, instead standing on his feet and looking down at the beautiful queen in front of him.

"Then you can come home to me." She took his hand and led him away from the racks, back to the castle he had come to call home.

... )
likely_evil: (Pout - Lost)
December 2004



"Sam, stop being such a damn Grinch and just put the star on top of the tree already."

Sighing, Sam pushed his textbook aside and got up, taking the silver star from Jess and reaching up to put it on the top of the almost 7 foot tall tree. Jess stood back, arms crossed and smiling. "Perfect."

Can I go back to studying now? )
likely_evil: (Sad - Broken)
Release me from this curse I'm in / Trying to remain tame / But I'm struggling /...Am I scaring you tonight?

Spoilers for Season 4, especially 4.09 )
likely_evil: (Lost)
ooc: following THIS. Future AU verse. Dean = [ profile] jstliketherifle. Not binding on any other muse

What's the name of the game that we are playing
Boy whenever I think that we are winning
Then you roll the dice take a slide
Right back to the one from 99
-Snakes and Ladders by Joss Stone

The Following January...

Sam stood in a phone booth, his forehead pressed against the cold glass as he listened to the dial tone. Shakey fingers pressed a series of buttons and he paused before touching the last one. Smears of blood covered the numbers now as Sam slid to the ground, the phone cradled in his arms.

They were outside a motel somewhere. Ruby was working on acquiring them a room, and she told him to stay put. Not to leave the phone booth that was hidden because the streetlamp had burnt out. There was salt around the entire booth, protecting the boy king as he sank to the floor in a bloody, bruised mess.

The battle wasn't one they had gone looking for )


likely_evil: (Default)
Sam Winchester

May 2016

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