​I like to imagine Sam's cognitive empathy, and other specific 'quirks', is a sign of either aspd or autism, and like everything mass surveillance, once the thought crosses your mind it's everywhere on your social media feeds. unfortunately, this has only brought my attention to how alien the portrayal of both these conditions actually is.
​on the more obvious side of things, many creators rely solely on gag scenes of the character stimming, having awkward social interactions, or hyperfixating on niche interests as proof. it's an entertaining but ultimately flat take.
and I can't not mention projection.. while it isn't inherently wrong, I know ND folks find comfort seeing themselves in their favorite characters, it often ends up locking the potential in ooc headcanon land instead of keeping it grounded and hard to dismiss.
meanwhile, sociopathy remains a massive taboo to headcanon. I'd go as far as saying it's perceived as more of an accusation due to the heavy negative connotations surrounding the word.
​and while it seems logical that a creator's approach to portraying sociopathy is preceded by heavy research, that usually means going straight to clinical articles while ignoring the lived testimonies of diagnosed people. this places the focus on how others describe sociopaths, rather than what the world looks like through their lens.
this limits the creative output to either an edgy, one-dimensional portrayal or buries the potential entirely, especially since the diagnostic criteria for aspd is extremely stiff and authors are already stuck in 'realism hell' that puts transformative art through the moral grinder.
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Sam leaned back into Castiel’s side. The angel wrapped a cautious arm around his torso, light enough that Sam could push it off without much effort, but when Sam hummed and laid his hand over the back of Castiel’s, he relaxed, and his arm became a grounding pressure that helped quiet Sam’s brain down a little. Sam shifted until he was comfortable and closed his eyes, squeezing Castiel’s hand and listening to the steady turn of pages as Castiel read.
Sam had tried to read earlier himself. First on his laptop until he gave up as the brightness of the screen made his head hurt, and then an actual book but at that point, his mind had been too full to process any of the words he was looking at. He’d tried napping, to see if that might reset whatever was messing up his head, but that only worked when he could actually fall asleep. He felt exhausted and restless, brain too loud and yet nothing in it beyond a static sort of buzz that made it impossible to focus on anything.
At least he had Cas, and Cas was familiar and warm and willing to sit in silence with him for however long Sam needed.
Castiel moved slightly, and Sam opened his eyes. He felt it before he saw it, an impossible breeze tickling the back of his neck, a warmth like sunshine spreading over his right side, that angelic ozone smell that always lingered around Cas growing stronger for a moment. Slowly, easily, one of Castiel’s wings extended, disobeying the laws of physics to fold through the back of the couch and over Sam’s body. Sam could see through it, though the image on the other side was scattered across the numerous feathers like the facets of a gem. Castiel’s reflected the colors around them, the warm glow of the lamp nearby, the green fabric of the couch that Dean had insisted brought the room together, the dark gray of Sam’s sweatpants. They all gave the wings an earthy sort of glow that Sam found comforting.
He reached out to touch Cas as carefully as Cas had to touch him. The arch of Castiel’s wing slid up into his hands like a cat eager for affection. They were smooth and soft under Sam’s hands, warm like water under the summer sun. The feathers rolled out from each other and smoothed back into one continuous body like the tide as Sam combed his fingers through them. They felt less like a bird’s wing, and more like the memory of one, what Sam had felt when Dean had snuck the two of them into the zoo and Sam had gotten to pet an owl, the awe of getting to touch something wild and yet so gentle. It was a good memory, and Cas reminded him a lot of that owl with his cocked head and the little squint around his eyes that Sam thought was adorable.
The wing settled over Sam, no weight to it like Castiel’s arm but with an undeniable presence. The texture of the wing under his hands was soothing, and Sam couldn’t help but keep running his fingers back and forth, until the motion was less curious exploration and more comforting repetition, drowning out the buzz in his skull. Castiel’s feathers rippled, turning so that wherever Sam touched, shades of green reflected under his fingertips. Sam could almost swear that the feathers became softer to the touch, fuzzy like moss growing over river-worn stones.
Sam heard Castiel let out a deep breath as Sam’s fingers passed through the feathers once more. He hesitated a moment, unsure if Cas was okay with this, with Sam using him to stim. It was helping a lot, and Sam felt a lot more present than he had a few minutes ago, but if Cas was uncomfortable, he was pretty sure he could stop. He really didn’t want to, but he would. Castiel turned his head, and Sam felt him press a kiss to his hair, nuzzle against the top of his head like a bird. Sam ran his fingers over the feathers again, and Castiel made an utterly contented noise. He didn’t seem to mind being Sam’s stimtoy one bit. Sam managed half a smile for the first time that day and kept petting the angel, listening to the soft sounds Castiel made with each sweep over his shimmering wing.
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i’ve seen a ton of autistic!sam fanfics lately and it’s honestly cool if you wanna hc sam as autistic, but writing him so he’s helpless and basically using a ton of autistic stereotypes to describe him really doesn’t sit right with me- same with hcing other characters from anything with extreme stereotypes of autism, not all people w autism act the same exact way, not everyone is the exact same and it’s annoying to see sam as this stereotype as his whole personality.
tldr use autistic!sam and adhd!max (these 2 are the most common pretty sure) if you want but if you make the stereotype their whole personality i’ll kick ur ass.
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"Hey, Sam, do you wanna come hang out with us?" Sam glanced up from his textbook, to see Michael Shurley and some of his friends stood over him. They were the football jocks, popular kids, and not the kind of people who would want to be friends with Sam. To be fair, Sam didn't have any friends, but the nerds were more likely to be kinder to him than the jocks. "Sam we aren't going to hurt you."
"Dean said I shouldn't," Sam replied quietly. His brother had left high school, was working in the mechanics shop down the road. Sam liked to visit him after school and wait with Dean until the end of his work day. When he had left, Dean had been wary of leaving Sam behind with the way he was treated by some of the other kids. Which is why Dean told him not to listen to what the jocks, especially Michael, said.
"C'mon, Sam, Dean isn't here, is he?" Michael knelt down so he was Sam's height. There was a tone in his voice, but Sam really couldn't tell what he meant by it. In all honesty, Sam could never tell what people meant when they said things; too many people spoke with hidden meanings.
Maybe he could trust Michael. Was he really as bad as Dean said he was?
Hesitantly, Sam stood up to follow the football team. He packed his bag, shoving his book into the front pocket of his back pack. Michael waited patiently for him to do so, which was nice. Sometimes Sam moved slowly and he could tell that it annoyed people. The others, Uriel and Bartholomew, seemed to be bored, but Sam couldn't tell that either, not really. Body language was confusing too. Still, he sped up as much as he could.
Michael led him down the corridor, all the way from the library where Sam spent his lunch times to the dining hall. He had a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach, but he chose to ignore it until he reached the canteen. There was lots of people, lots of noise, and it made Sam's heart race a little. Crowds bothered him, there was a reason he avoided being in the canteen. Sam spotted the table where all the cheerleaders and the rest of the football team were, he began to move in that direction but Michael pulled him away.
"We're going to get something to eat, you coming?" Michael urged him. Sam couldn't say no, didn't know how to say no. Like a little lost puppy, he traipsed after Michael and Uriel and Bartholomew while they paid for their lunch. Sam didn't bother buying anything, Dean had packed him a peanut butter and banana sandwich and a strawberry smoothie.
People seemed to be staring at him. Fair enough, he was stood at the front of the room, but why were so many people looking over his way? Maybe they were all watching Michael, that's what people did, right? Watch the popular people. It made him uncomfortable, and Sam started to look at his feet. He had the urge to move around, but people always looked at him funny when he did so he tried to keep his stimming to a minimum.
Michael came up behind him again. "Are you ready?"
Before Sam could answer him, ask him what he was supposed to be ready for, something fell on his head. It was warm and wet and slimy, it dripped down his hair and onto his shoulders. He didn't have time to react before something else hit his head, and then something else. There were roars of laughter coming from all around the canteen, and though Sam had his eyes closed, he could see the flashes of camera. People were taking photos of his humiliation.
He couldn't help himself. The tears started before the wailing, streaming down his face. He still daren't open his eyes, not knowing what had been dumped in his hair. When he began screaming, the captive audience of the dining hall seemed to change. The laughing stopping, being replaced with an awkward silence. They couldn't understand what was going on in Sam's head, the humiliation he felt. Sam couldn't even hold back his stimming.
"Michael!" Sam heard someone yell. He tried to subdue his howls, stop the tears. He managed to open his eyes in time to see a boy with the same dark hair as Michael walking over to them. As the boy stepped closer, Sam cowered away.
"How dare you do that!" There was fury in the boy's voice, so clear even Sam could pick it up. Michael seemed to stammer a little bit, but the boy took none of it. "You took advantage of him, just to embarrass him in front of the whole school, you vile piece of shit!"
"It was just a joke, Cassie," Michael snickered, turning away from the boy, Cassie, towards his friends to back him up. Cassie pulled Michael's should and somehow managed to turn him forward. He slapped Michael square in the face.
"Doe this look like a joke to you?" He questioned, pointing in Sam's direction. "Was it a joke when I got bullied, or what about Gabriel? This wasn't a joke, Michael, this was just plain cruel."
"C'mon, it's not that bad," Michael laughed back. Sam couldn't believe he was still laughing, that the cheerleaders were still tittering a bit. Cassie slapped Michael again.
"You're horrible," Cassie spit out, before turning around to Sam. He still seemed angry and Sam felt scared. However, Cassie's face seemed to soften when he saw the terror in Sam's eyes. He held out a gentle hand to Sam, letting Sam take it in his own time like a skittish deer.
Once Sam was safely holding his hand, Cassie walked him out of the hall, now dead silent, and towards the nearest bathroom. He could finally see what was in his hair, chocolate pudding. It was thick and globby and Sam started to cry again when he saw the damage. His hair was all stuck together and his previously white shirt (which wasn't really his it was Dean's) was definitely going to be stained. He was pretty sure some got in his back pack; he shrugged it off his shoulder to check.
Cassie shushed him, softly stroking Sam's back despite the pudding dripping onto his hand. There was something kind about him that Sam couldn't help but love. He was much kinder than Michael and those jerks in any kind of way. Sam stopped himself from crying, sniffing until he calmed himself.
"'m sorry," Sam mumbled. "You got pudding on you."
"It doesn't matter, " Cassie hummed. "I'm sorry my brother is such an asshole. I'm sorry about what happened to you. I'm sorry that people don't take you seriously."
"It's okay, it's always been that way," Sam shrugged off. "Is Michael your brother?"
"Yes, unfortunately," Cassie sighed. He peeked into the stalls, finding some toilet paper to wipe off the pudding. He was careful as he did so, his touches light like Sam was porcelain. "He used to be a good brother, looking out for me and Gabriel when we were treated badly. But Dad's been preoccupied with our older brother and since then Michael has been a jackass. It doesn't excuse what he's done though."
"Can you pass me my bag?" Sam asked. Cassie complied and handed Sam his back pack. Thankfully, the inside of his bag had been spared from the attack, and everything was clean. Most importantly, his teddy bear, George, was safe and clean. "Do you think the principal knows?"
"I should think so, I'm sure Kevin Tran went to go find her," Cassie replied. Sam knew Kevin, he was in the AV club and on AP courses, but he liked hanging out in the library like Sam. He was quiet but Sam knew quiet was safe; he even smiled at Sam sometimes.
They sat in silence in the bathroom for the while, resting against the sinks. The bell went for lesson, but Cassie wouldn't let Sam get up and go to class. Sam was glad, he wouldn't be able to concentrate and whenever he got restless in class, his teachers sent him to more therapy and he hated it. He was glad that Cassie was kind enough to stay with him too, he needed someone to keep him calm.
Sam's phone rang at one point. He didn't pick up, but immediately after the call ended, he got a text. It was Dean, unsurprisingly, asking what had happened. Principal Mills must've heard about it for Dean to know about it. Which was great, it meant more therapy either way, Sam couldn't be more upset to spend time in a stuffy classroom with an intimidating lady. He quickly text Dean explaining the incident before throwing his phone to the floor.
"You okay?" Cassie asked him.
"My brother knows, everyone knows. Why do I have to be a living embarrassment?" Sam wailed.
"You're not an embarrassment," Cassie frowned. "Just because jerks like Michael embarrass you does not mean you yourself are embarrassing." He placed a gentle hand on Sam's arm, running his thumb in circles. The movement felt familiar and Sam felt comfortable.
"Thank you, Cassie, you're really nice," Sam smiled at him.
"It's Cas, actually, Cassie is what my brothers call me as a joke," Cas chuckled, but for once it felt like it was with Sam and not at him. "And thank you, Sam, I think you're really nice too."
"I'm not, I'm weird, everyone thinks it. It's why people do mean things to me, it's why I have to have support staff and why my brother Dean has to come in twice a week to check my progress. I'm not normal!"
"So? It's what makes you unique, it's why I like you," Cas coughed awkwardly. He wouldn't meet Sam's eyes, and Sam didn't know why. Was Cas lying when he said he liked him? Sam whined in frustration, and Cas glanced up at him. He bit his lip.
"Are you- are you joking?" Sam asked. It had happened before, popular girls asking him out in pity, hot guys asking him out as a dare. No one had ever wanted to go out with him before. Cas shook his head.
"No, Sam, I'm being serious, I like you," Cas told him with his straightest face.
Sam's smile grew. Despite the pudding still resting on his shoulders, despite the entire student body laughing at him, despite the prospect of extra therapy sessions, Sam could still smile. Cas liked him, properly, fully liked him. It may have been a horrible day for Sam, but it could also be the best day of his life.
"So what did your brother say?" Cas asked him.
"He asked me to go to his work straight from school. I go most days anyway, but I think he really wants to see me," Sam picked up his phone from the floor again, checking over the message Dean sent him again. Jody called me Im sorry Sammy please come to the shop after school cut last period I wont mind. "Do you want to meet my brother? He's a good brother and I love him more than anything else."
"I'd love to," Cas grinned. He leapt off of the sink and held his hand out for Sam to take. "It's nearly last period, and your brother said he wouldn't mind you skipping class, so do you want to head off to his work?"
Sam took hold of Cas' hand and slipped off of the sink. Cas squeezed Sam's hand an offered a supportive smile before leading him out of the bathroom. His stomach was fluttering like butterflies but it didn't feel bad, not like before. No, Sam felt actually happy and Cas was the reason why.
anyway. low empathy sam in general is real To Me, that's not just a soulless sam thing. being soulless just meant that he stopped giving a shit about masking.
that's why i'm always like :/ when the great crime of 'sam is rude to dean sometimes' is brought up like. idk, it reads to me as A) siblings are Like That And It's Literally Fine and B) that the stuff sam says glances off of dean cause he also Gets It, that sometimes sam's mouth runs ahead of his filter, that sam feels comfortable enough with dean that he is letting go of that rigid hold he usually keeps on it and being a bitch about things. and what counts to dean is never sam teasing him or being mean, what counts is what sam does, that he is gonna have dean's back when it counts.
