likely_evil: (Angry - Trapped)
"He's over there!"

"Careful, Bobby. We're not aiming to kill."

"That boy tries to take a bite of me, Dean, I'm going to be less inclined to follow your plan."

"... Got him!"

The sound of gunshots fired and it was followed by a whimper of a wounded dog. The human sized werewolf fell to the ground, his hazel eyes fogging up as he tried to snarl up at the two men approaching him. Dean knelt down in front of his face, taking a syringe from Bobby. "Sorry, Sammy," he said, and pressed the needle to his brother's neck and then watched as the eyes fluttered closed.


One Month Earlier... )
likely_evil: (Demon - Remind me who I am)
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!"
likely_evil: (Samael - Rescue me)
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."

. . . )
likely_evil: (Sad - Crying)
ooc: yeah, hide all your Dean muses now. Total AU!Future fic that will probably lead to a verse. WARNING: MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH

They had been gone for three days... )
likely_evil: (Confused - I got nothing...)
It was the afternoon after Sam had spent the day with Nellie, and now he was waiting for Bobby to meet him for lunch.

He had been replying the events of the day before in his head, and he had come to a sad revelation: maybe Nellie was over her mother's death. Maybe she didn't need to talk, like he had felt she had to. Maybe... he was portraying his own issues through her and that's why he had been so adamant for her to talk to him.

He would apologize the next time he saw her. If he saw her. He was leaving that in her hands because he didn't want her to be uncomfortable.

But he might just be brooding while he leaned against the column in the hotel lobby, lost in thought.



rep order Sam/Bobby/Dean
likely_evil: (Remind me who I am)
Just for Bobby at the moment... others to join later...

They were in North Dakota according to the map that Alec and Dean had been looking at. There was something in the back of Sam's mind that found the town familiar. Little fireflies in his mind, wanting to guide him again.

Why were there fireflies in his mind? He always saw freflies, no matter where they went.

He had sat in the Impala after Dean and Alec went to bed because he was trying to figure this out when one big firefly came by the window, beckoning him to follow it. So he did, walking along the fields quickly as he tried to catch it.

When he was able to catch them, he remembered things. But the things he remembered with them would always fly away again. Out of his mind and into the wind. Not like the memories that Dean gave him.

He had a few now. Memory of a tape measure. Of a necklace. Small things and they were always of him as a kid. There were no adult memories. And Sam wondered why.

Soon, the firefly led him along the path to a junkyard. Sam could see all the magic here, trendils that wove a web in a white light. He was careful as he walked, not wanting to touch a single strand of it until he got to the door where the firefly had landed.

Sam tilted his head, reaching for the insect and wrapping his fingers around it roughly. Which on the other side of the door would sound like someone had knocked.

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Sam Winchester

May 2016

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