They call me the Anti-Christ

ooc: follows this

Sam had left Ruby at the church and fled as fast as his form could take him until he couldn't go any further. The sun was really starting to rise now, and he knew people were going to find out what he did and then they were going to hunt him.

He was scared and he had to hide. He found a motel and slipped through the window of a room that had no one in it at the moment. He sat on the toilet seat and picked the stained glass out of his feet and then took a long shower. When he was drying his hair, he could see the two bullet holes in his chest that were starting to bleed again. There was some things from the people who were staying there and he was able to put a washcloth over each one, and then wrap an ace bandage around his chest.

New clothes were next. The man had a pair of sweatpants and a tee-shirt that just fit him, so he put it on. He was looking for shoes when he heard a key in the door and he ran out the window before the person coming in could see him.

Sam was getting hungry but he knew he couldn't go into town. The news would tell them what he had done and then they would call the cops. The cops were not good people to him. He had hurt one of them. They would want to hurt him too.

Instead he kept moving, going from place to place until the sun started to set and he found himself somewhere familiar. He could smell food cooking and he knew that Bobby would feed him even if he was a bad thing. Maybe Bobby wouldn't call Dean and could keep his secret. But he couldn't get into the place as he tried to find a way in and finally just went to the kitchen door and started to knock quickly.

"Bobby... please let me in!"

OOC: Goes with this. Michael is herecmestrouble and used with permission

She is the sunlight.
The sun is gone.
- Trading Yesterdays "She is the Sunlight"


Ruby always went on jobs on her own. That wasn't what worried Sam. It was her way of relieving stress sometimes - go off on a small case, beat up a few demons and come back and take a long hot shower or else... well, that was another way they both burned off stress.

Sam sat up in bed reading until he fell asleep, waiting for her. It wasn't like her to take that long on a routine matter. He tried to call her again before bed, but it went to voicemail. If she was working, she wouldn't answer her phone. Maybe she needed to wait until late to hunt whatever she was after.

He was expecting her to come in during the night and wake him up by pressing her cold body against his back and wanting to share his warmth. But when he woke up and her half of the bed was still cold, that was when he started to worry.

It got worse when she didn't answer her cell phone still in the morning. It took him seconds to dress and then without even meeting his son for breakfast like planned, he went straight to the library and grabbed Bobby's journal and headed right for a spell room.

( . . . )

You are NOT ALLOWED to explain ANYTHING unless someone comments you and asks—and, believe me, the temptation to explain some of these will be overwhelming. Nothing is exactly as it seems.

( Long list of Questions )

ooc: for mad_muses prompt: I hope you know what you’re doing.

Age 132. Year is 2114

It was a rough year for the Initiative. The complex was still just a dream, and the demons were hard to get on his side in the battle for a line of peace between the two species. War was hard, and it was taking it's toll on the immortal Winchester - more so than on any of the other humans. After all, it was certain that the demon who could take out Sam Winchester was going to become a legend.

And in 2114, that legend almost happened. His name was Andras, and to some he was considered one of the princes of Hell. His strategy was strong - separating Sam from the safety of his followers and then locking him in a warehouse in which no angel or lesser demon could enter or exit - including that of his Ruby.

Sam put up a strong fight, but his biggest weakness was that he was still human and needed certain things to survive. Food and water being the two major items. Andras, however, had an ego and wouldn't let his victory come from just plain starvation. He wanted to break Sam down as far as he could both mentally and physically before dealing the final blow. Then he could drag the body out to lay it at the feet of his followers and start to take them down.

( . . . )

Sam knew that look in his brother's eyes as he sat next to the fireplace at Bobby's place. It was the hurt and lost look. The "I don't want to talk about it" look. The "I'm hurting and I can't let myself show it."

The "I failed" look that Dean wore anytime someone died on a job. But this time Sam knew the look better than Dean could know.

It was the look Sam had worn so many times before - Jess. Dad. Madison. Dean. And even Ruby. The pain of losing someone who you loved more than just a girl in the next town, or the buddy you saw once a year if you were lucky. he knew that pain intimately, and he knew it wasn't something that you could face alone. Hell, Dean had already shown just how well he could handle it on his own.

( . . . )

When he was deep inside, it wasn't about lust. Feeling himself buried to the hilt, two legs wrapped around him as he tested to see how far he could go... how far she'd let him... it wasn't because he wanted her.

There was no power play here. His back, her back - didn't matter. The slap of skin; the sliding; caress; slick and heat; It had it's own power. Magic. It brought him into the moment and made him forget about the world.

Nothing existed but the tightness around him, urging him to take and give. There may have been love, but in the heat of the moment he didn't think of it. It was a means to an end. A sharing of pleasure and hinted with an edge of pain.

Only those who got this close knew there was a hell hound behind those puppy eyes. A beast who had been whipped so many times and needed to find some release. His heart was too pure to hurt others, but in this act, it was felt.

Thrusts that rocked more than just the body under him. Teeth. Bruises that appeared for days afterward that kept a soreness that reminded them for days of that night. Feeling his skin tighten until the darkness seeped out in gasps and growls as he took.

Sam...

Hearing his name from another's lips kept him grounded and getting lost in that dark side. Hazel eyes watching pleasure vibrate off his partner. Soft breaths in his ears, moans that vibrated his skin as he broke out in sweat. Fingernails gripping his skin as he gave.

This wasn't something he wanted. He needed this. A moment where he could balance the light and dark in him. A moment of focus and clarity.

A moment of love, hate, and everything in between that just grew until it exploded behind his eyes and he collapsed into waiting arms that slicked his hair back and whispered sweet nothings into his ear.

A moment where he could just be without judgment or punishment. The fate of the world didn't rest on his shoulders, just her hands squeezing out every ounce of him until there was nothing left to give.

A moment in which he was everything.

Nothing.

Sam.

Sam knew he probably looked like one of those old-fashioned movies where the hero came walking into town in the middle of the night, fog rolling in ahead of him. Of course, he was missing the leather pants and the long duster coat.

Instead, he had on his jeans and hooded jacket, and quietly found his way to Lana's place in Smallville. Dean already had his own motel room for the night, and wasn't expecting Sam back for at least 24 hours.

As things between Sam and Dean got better, Sam felt stronger with himself and his interactions with people. He still believed that being around him was dangerous, but he took his own precautions.

And he just missed her so much. They were in town, and he couldn't not come to visit.

He was quick as he picked the lock into her place, making sure no one was paying any attention to him. The alarm was quickly disarmed, and he was pleased to see her salt lines were in place, and as he walked through the home, he knelt to place a new hex bag behind a few books on a shelf.

Making his way into the bedroom, he smiled at seeing her there snuggled under the blankets. Barely making a noise, he leaned over her and brushed some hair from her face before planting a kiss on her forehead.

As her eyes opened to look at who was in the room, he just smiled at her. "Hey. Mind if I join you?"

ooc: this is also a request for enjoythe_ride who wanted a Sam/Bela kiss on the nose. Bela and their children are used with permission and love

"And then Cindy-ella got a purdy dress!"

"Yes."

"And gwass swippers!"

"It's glass SLIPPERS, dufus."

"Daddy! Mickey cawwed me a dufus!"

Sam looked down at the two children curled up next to him. He was sitting in Sophia's bed - just barely able to fit - with his daughter in his lap trying to see the pictures in the big fairytale book he was reading from. Michael was sitting next to him, wedges between the wall and his father's hip, his head managing to sneak over enough to see the pictures as well, even if it was a girly story and he didn't really care.

"Hey guys, do you want to hear the story or not? Mommy's going to be home soon and you both need to be asleep by then."

"Sorry, daddy," they both said, and curled up closer to Sam so he could keep reading.

"and so then the fairy grandmother turned the pumpkin into a coach and told Cinderella that she had to be back by midnight, or everything would turn back to normal..."

***

Bela came back home to a quiet home, smiling as she put the keys on the table and her jacket in the closet. "Sam? Are you awake?" she called softly into the house, not wanting to wake the children. However, when her husband didn't reply, she made her way towards the bedrooms to see where everyone was.

As she opened Sophia's room, her hand came to her mouth to hold back to sound of her intake of breath. Sam was slumped in the bed, half sitting and half starting to slide out as long leg was already on the floor. Sophia was curled tightly against his chest and one of Sam's arms held her close. The other arm was wrapped around Michael and he tried not to fall between the bed and the wall from his spot against Sam's side.

Walking into the room quietly, she picked up the book from the floor and put it on the bookshelf. She then walked over and ran a hand through Sam's hair. "Sam, wake up," she said softly.

He whimpered, his hands instinctively clutching his kids tighter to him as he opened his eyes. He saw Bela and gave her a sleepy smile. "Hey, didn't hear you come in."

"Well, you look completely adorable right now, so I will forgive your lack of hunter instincts this time." She leaned down and kissed his nose. "Though I have to admit, I'm a bit jealous."

He got a goofy half-asleep smile at the kiss, then looked at her in confusion. "Why?"

"Here I am, out working hard to pay for everything, and I come home to find you in bed with not only a beautiful girl draped across your chest, but a handsome young man clinging to you. Maybe I should go back out and find myself someone to snuggle with tonight."

Sam sighed and gave her a pitiful look. "Would you feel better if I told you my neck is killing me from having fallen asleep like this?"

Bela considered a moment, then smiled. "I can make do with that." She moved to pick Sophie up off Sam's chest, and the little girl didn't even wake up as she curled into her mother's arms. "Put Michael to bed, and then I'll help massage that neck of yours before I get some snuggle time with you."

Getting out of the bed, Sam picked his son up, holding him close. He watched Bela a moment as she knelt down to tuck Sophia back in before heading out of the room and across the hall to Michael's. Laying his son down, he smoothed the tousled hair and kissed the boy's forehead before heading back into the hallway. Bela met him there, and Sam wrapped his arms around her waist, leaning down to kiss her gently.

"So now do I need to read you a story before bed as well?" he asked her, taking her hand and they walked towards their bedroom.

"I'm sure I can think of easier ways for you to help me get to sleep," Bela teased, turning to walk backwards into the bedroom. "After all, I already know how this fairy tale ends."

"How's that?"

Bela just smiled. "Happily Ever After."

He had accompanied Jo to the shooting range, intending to just sit back and watch her fire her weapon at the targets and few times and then go out for lunch like they had intended. That was the plan, and as the days of him being off the habit passed - minus the one setback - following a plan helped Sam get through each day.

He was working himself, writing in a little journal that he had brought to write out how he was feeling when he started to get an urge. It was a secret journal that no one was supposed to be able to look in but him, and he always kept it hidden in his back pocket.

Lately, there were two major topics. Dean, of course, and how Sam was afraid to face him. The other was about the woman who stood in front of him, firing her gun at the target until it started to make the clicking noises of an empty chamber. He knew that the feelings that were surfacing were reminiscent of those from when they had been teenagers, but still. Sometimes when he looked into her eyes, he wondered if she was feeling the same things he was.

"Seriously, Harvelle? You think you're gonna be able to take out one of the Kings with that little pea shooter you're always carrying?" Detective Megan Damon walked over, her short cropped blonde hair cutting a sharp angle around her face as she pulled off her goggles. She pulled out a larger semi-automatic, holding it up for Jo to see. "A girl's gotta make a statement, after all, when you're running with this crowd."

Meg turned and put her goggles back on, turning to the target and firing off a round until the click click made her stop. Most of the shots were in the stomach and face, nearly perfect. Jo watched, trying not to scowl as Meg leaned back, blowing smoke from the end of her gun. "That's how it's supposed to be done."

( . . . )