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ooc: Hear the Song Here

He was waiting at the hotel in the honeymoon suite, having just gotten Ruby on the phone. He had driven through the night until he found this place. When was the last time he slept? Ate? Drank?

Ruby was on her way. It would be over soon, Sam. Lay down and sleep, and the time will go fast and then she would be there and everything would be alright and the pain would stop.

But it didn't. His hallucinations still talked in his head, replaying over and over. He felt Alastair cutting into him, crying out in pain and knowing he would never have lasted a day in Hell if this was what waited for him.

He couldn't last a day... Dean lasted thirty years. Dean is stronger than him... he... he could do this. Maybe...

Your brother doesn't understand... Dean can never know how strong you are... because Dean is weak.

( . . . )

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.

( . . . )

It was the middle of the night when Michael started to cry. Sam groaned, hiding deeper in his pillows. Bela nudged at his shoulder. "It's your turn."

"I went last time," came the muffled response.

"No, you slept through last time," Bela pointed out, sitting up. "Come on, Sam..."

Sam pushed himself up on his elbow, half turning to face her. "How can I sleep through this?"

"Your brother sleeps through it all the time when he's here. It's genetic." She just gave him that look she did when she knew she was right and didn't see the point in him arguing. "Will you go already?!"

Sam growled and got out of bed, tossing the blankets back onto her as he stumbled out of the room in only his sweatpants and went into Michael's bedroom.

( . . . )

( Spoilers for 4x21 Probably in Entry and Comments )

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..."

( . . . )

( Spoilers for Tonight's Episode )

Sam was on his motorcycle, racing across the city as he followed the magical tracer that was leading him to where the Triad was holding the reapers. Ruby had taken her sweet time trying to break through their magic, but she had and they knew where their main base of operations was.

Now Sam was on the trail of a magical orb of light, guiding him to the location that Ruby and the other demons had already gone ahead to scout out and prepare for him. The other human hunters, including his son, were all safe in the complex and working to defend it if this was a trap.

The Triad were the worst that Sam faced in this new world, and he didn't take anything they did without considering every faucet of the plot they could have. And with the demons at the location, he had more than enough protection to be able to protect himself.

After all, he might be immoral, but he wasn't a Highlander. Sam was pretty sure a well placed cut or explosion would be the end of him, and he wasn't about to give the Triad a chance to test that.

Ruby, I'm almost there. Five more minutes.

Adam was ash, back to the Earth he had come from. Sam found the biblical reference amusing, which let him ignore the sprained ankle, slashed wrists, and hole just above his liver. Dean had found him some good drugs to take the edge off the pain, but it still hurt like a bitch and standing up for so long had drained him.

Literally.

Anna had to support him as they watched over Adam while he got a hunter's funeral. The blood left in his body was being pulled down by gravity so he was light headed, and by the time the three of them were back at the Impala, Sam just curled up in the backseat and slept.

Anna and Dean weren't talking again, but what else was new? He just ignored them and slipped back off into the blissfulness of unconsciousness.

The next morning he woke up with a groan, his head pounding and still nauseous. "Water," he groaned, not even opening his eyes. Someone was in the room with him and would help him.

God he hated being this week. But he hated throwing up more and if he didn't get some water in his mouth soon...

Down the road, not across the street...

Ever since Dean had tried to help him up from that table and he had passed out, Sam saw the world in moments of nauseous green and black moments. He knew he was in the backseat of the Impala, his arms bound up and... handing off the passenger seat? Why... oh yeah, above the heart keeps from bleeding out. Dad taught him that when he was six and cut his hand on the hunting knife.

Hold it up, Sammy. Keep pressure on it Dean. We're almost to the hospital.

Hospital. Adam's mom was a nurse. Adam... his brother. Half Brother. Dead. Why did his family always die on him?

He was Dean's little brother. Sam had always wanted a little brother of his own, someone to look up to him and teach and protect like Dean always did for him. And there had been one all along. Sam had done the math. He was eight when Adam was born. Eight. Just learning about the hunting world and once a year while Dean and Sam sat alone in motel rooms worried on if he would ever come back.

Sam hated knowing that Dad held this kid above him and Dean. Why did Adam get to be free of this life, but he and Dean had to fight in it? Why did he want Adam to get the white picket fence when it was all Sam wanted.

( . . . )

It's the time of the season for kissing! Set up a kissing booth and have at it, you crazy kids. Just be careful you don't catch any diseases!

So first Anna was blaming him for this. But really, it was Dean's fault. It was always Dean's fault. But as they stood there watching Anna, it was his brilliant idea to get them involved.

This was not going to end well. Especially when Dean started to set up his booth.

So Sam got his own booth at the fair and set it up. There might have been a friendly exchange of challenges between brothers over who would do better. And then Sandy sat down next to him with a smile and a wink, willing to help out with any men who came over looking for a kiss.

Ok, the day was looking a bit better. Let the battle of the Winchester Kissing Booths commence. ~~it's for charity... really...~~

$5 a Kiss! Step on Up!

Total raised so far: $3,410 ~~will update as the day goes on~~

ooc: yes, there is a kissing booth battle going on, and this is open to any muses in any verse. If you want verse specific, make sure you put it in the subject line. If this is the first time talking to Sam, then feel free to use this as a way to get to say hello! And multiple kisses are welcome as long as you pay for them ;)

1) "There comes a point in your life when you realize who matters, who never did, and who always will. So don't worry about the people in your past. There's a reason they didn't make it into your future." - Anonymous

Sam stood outside the elementary school, looking up at the building. It was huge, and there was a moment of fear in him. How would a small kid starting kindergarten manage to survive in this place? He'd get lost in a second and it could take days before he found his way out. And Sam hadn't even checked to see what kind of ghosts might haunt the place or put wards on the building and he sure as hell hadn't...

"Uncle Sam?"

Blinking, Sam looked down at the little boy holding his hand. There was a Batman lunchbox in his other hand. "Yeah, Johnny?"

"I'm scared."

( Me too... )

ooc: for

15_song_lyrics: Morning After

Sam was in the doorway when she answered the door. He was panting hard from having run up the stairs - afraid that the hell hounds had come early. They had fought down to the last minute and Sam had feared the worst.

But now he stood there, bloody and bruised, panting for breath as he looked at the redhead on the other side of the door. The fear in her eyes that shifted to confusion, then understanding.

The sun was starting to rise, and it was Sam that came to her door, and not the hell hounds.

"Sam?" she asked softly, looking past him just in case there were hounds behind him, but there weren't. "What happened?"

Her hand went to cup his cheek, and he closed his eyes, leaning into it a moment. Then he took a quick step in and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close as he kissed her hard. Sam could feel her start a moment, then she relaxed and kissed him back as her hands went up around his neck.

Moving her further into the living room, he kicked the door shut. He leaned her against the wall, just kissing her until he was out of breath and leaned his head back. Bela took a deep breath, then looked up at him. "Sam?"

"We did it," he said softly, looking down at her with a small smile. "We did it, and you're safe now, and I'm home. To stay."

His name was Michael John Winchester, and he was a miracle child. The son of an Immortal and a demon, blessed by angels to have this gift for their work done over two centuries.

There were prophecies written for this child. Expectations with the hopes and dreams of an organization would rest on his shoulders as he grew up to stand in the 6'4" shadow that his father cast.

Demons were going to hunt him because of this. To get at Sam and Ruby and hit them where it hurt most. Try to destroy this family that Sam had wanted for centuries now.

Today, however - Sam wasn't thinking about that. The future didn't exist beyond the dreams of a father as he stared down into the bassinet that his infant son was sleeping in. Ruby was still recovering as she slept in their bedroom, and Sam just stood there.

( . . . )

“Mr. Vaughn, you're young and you're eager, and I understand that. But one thing you're not, and this is something only time can provide, really, is wise.” -Jack Bristow, Alias

It was a Tuesday night. Sam remembered it well, like he did most days of his near 300 years of life now. He had finished a meeting with one of the specialist teams and was ready to eat a cold dinner - he had missed it being warm by 2 hours now - and check on his son while Ruby went out on a "thing" she had to do.

He noticed that there was a growing pile of college pamphlets on the counter, and he flipped through them absently as he realized that Michael was actually old enough to start thinking about things like college and a future. There were times Sam still wished his boy, his miracle baby boy, was still just that - his baby.

But he knew that time went on and his son was becoming an adult before his eyes. It was a blink in his life now, but Michael was turning 17 soon... Sam chuckled as he remembered himself at 17. Interesting times.

There were a lot of pamphlets here... and envelopes that weren't open. Confusion crossed his face and finally Sam just gathered them up and headed back to the room with the loud music playing. This wasn't something Ruby would really know how to talk to Michael about - when she had been alive, college wasn't really an option - so it was going to be a father & son talk.

( . . . )

If you are special in some way, (vampire, werewolf, psychic, et cetera), how would you react if you woke up one morning stripped of your power?

When I first got them, I would have been glad to have them gone. I never wanted them, and they caused me nothing but trouble ~~and psychotic hunters trying to kill me~~. And we won't even go into the little ghost town death match.

But now... if I woke up and they were gone, I know we would be in deep shit - the smallest being Lilith coming to kill us in our sleep, and the biggest being the Apocalypse. For all that I'm being told that using these powers is wrong, I don't see how we would have won otherwise. Samhain? Alastair? I'm getting stronger each time, and I know I'm almost to the point where I can handle Lilith. And once she's gone and the seals are safe?

Then I'd gladly wish them away for the rest of my life. To finally be free from this curse in me... probably the best thing I could ever imagine happening.

But not while they are keeping ~~Dean~~ us alive - and now if the angels themselves can't even protect him? - It's up to me. And I need to be stronger still.

[locked from everyone]

If I woke up and they were gone tomorrow - I would have Ruby give them back to me. Even if it's disgusting and I hate myself every time I do it, I can't be weak now. I can't afford to lose Dean again, or let Lilith win. Not happening, even if I have to sacrifice myself in the end to set the world straight again.

[/locked]

ooc: Cowritten with

jstliketherifle and

smart_alec494. Everyone else is an NPC. demon!Sam verse. Part 1 Here

Sam put his cell phone down in his lap, looking at Dean. "He's not answering, Dean. Alec always answers his phone. Something's wrong."

"Only problem is we don't know what kind of something wrong it is. Or where he is, for that matter." Dean was starting to get a little worried too. Alec usually wasn't one to be late either. Which definitely meant something not good, as far as Dean was concerned.

"I can find him. Demon, remember. I can find him if you let me go." Sam stood up. "He can't be far."

Dean hesitated slightly, before sitting up slightly. "I don't know, Sammy -- especially when we don't know what kind of trouble it is."

"Between you and me, we can do anything and take on anything." Sam reached for his jacket. "We can take a drive. I can see what is around. See if I can feel him." He might be trying not to bounce between two feet.

"Alright," Dean nodded after hesitating again. "But don't go running off without me, alright?"

"I won't. Stay in the car. Can I drive?" His eyes lightened up a bit.

Dean chuckled. "No, Sammy. I barely let you drive when you were human."

He pouted and sighed. "No fair." But he followed Dean to the car and sat in the passenger seat obediently.

( . . . )

Back to normal. Sorry for confusion.

~~I'm going to hide now, thanks...~~

ooc: for

50prompts # 7: Tabula Rasa (Blank Slate).

Sam Wesson sat in the library, his pen tapping a fast beat on the desk while he was looking through a stack of books. Researching. Trying to figure out where he was going to start in this madness of becoming a "hunter".

The Ghostfacers' website only gave so much information. The internet itself offered a lot more, but unless you know what you were really looking for, it was almost impossible to find real facts. This elusive "hunters network" didn't seem to have made it to the technical age, apparently.

So he was on his own to figure this out. However, it just didn't feel "right" doing it alone. Hell, it was probably dangerous to do it alone. Who would have your back when it got down and dirty?

Sam kept thinking of the guy from the office - Dean Smith. But the guy had turned out to be a total douchebag and chose the safe and comfy lifestyle for being in the field. And then a day later was trying to piss him off by saying Sam's real last name was Winchester and that his life wasn't real, but his dreams were.

And of course pulling a bunch of people in on the gag too.

( . . . )

ooc: a few days after this

Angeline arrived in South Dakota a few days after she heard the news about Dean's death. She didn't like leaving her daughter alone while she was still on life support, but she knew that with both parents out of commission, she and Sam were going to have to have a discussion about how her grandson was to be raised. She had quite a few concerns, given his breeding, and she knew it was either talk to Sam now, or barge in later, and she knew that sooner was better than later.

Adjusting the sunglasses on her face, she climbed out of the car she'd rented for the occasion and pulled the coat more tightly around herself. This little patch of America was almost artic compared to the warm, balmy heat of New Orleans, and she just shivered as she made her way to the door, knocking on it loudly before glancing around. She silently hoped for a moment that Sam was planning on getting a place of his own, because really -- a salvage yard was no place to raise a child.

It wasn't Sam who came to the door, but instead Bobby. He had heard the strange car pulling up in the gravel and grabbed his shotgun. It was resting just on the other side of the door when he opened it a bit, looking at the woman on the other side. "Can I help ya?" he asked, shifting his arm behind the door a bit to make sure that the gun was aimed correctly. He couldn't take any risks on demons coming after Sam or Dean's boy, especially not with how Sam was at the moment.

Angeline looked him over for a minute, before raising an eyebrow behind her sunglasses. "Is Sam Winchester here, or do I have the wrong Singer Salvage?"

"Sorry, don't know've any Sam Winchesters," Bobby stated easily. "There's another Singer Salvage though cross the state. Might be trying there."

( . . . )

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They call me the Anti-Christ

.....you can call me Sam.

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