#nerd!sam

Sam was in college for a year now and things were stressful, to put it mildly. The last year had gone by faster than he thought was possible and even his summer holidays seemed to be over in a heartbeat. Now that his brother had volunteered to take him back to campus - a week earlier than necessary because Sam had insisted on it - he felt like he could use two more months to calm down completely.

“Relax, Sammy,” Dean grinned and tapped on the steering wheel with his fingers in sync with the music. “You’re going back to what you enjoy the most, studying your ass off, isn’t that something good?”

“Yeah, easy for you to say,” Sam huffed and crossed his arms. “You weren’t the one who had to listen to dad’s monologue on how I’m wasting his money on becoming a vampire to society.”

“He hates lawyers, you know that.” Dean rolled his eyes. “You’ll see, once you get your diploma he’ll change his mind.”

“If he still has some brain cells left to think by then.”

Dean glared over at his younger brother for a moment, angry and almost judging, but Sam met his glare with the same look, and in the end, they both broke out in laughter that filled the whole car, even drowning ACDC with it.

“You’re not wrong, sadly,” Dean eventually sighed and turned on the blinker to switch lanes. “It’s getting worse with him lately. While you were there he was actually nice, I’m glad I can move out soon so I don’t have to live with how he’s gonna be again once you’re gone.”

“So you’ll take the room?” Sam raised a brow. “I thought you wanted to keep looking to get into a house with only girls.”

“Well, I had to change my plans.” Dean shrugged with a smirk. “The guys are pretty cool, two brothers actually, and they don’t care for what I do as long as I pay the rent.”

“Sounds like heaven,” Sam groaned. “My pothead roommate luckily dropped out, so I won’t have to deal with him anymore. Thank God!”

“As long as it doesn’t get worse with the next one,” Dean pointed out, and Sam literally shuddered at the thought.

“I’m gonna drop out too if the next one is worse, trust me.”

Sam had no desire for a new roommate and as far as he knew no one was scheduled to live with him yet, but unfortunately that could change any day. He hoped to be able to use the first week to plan out his classes and everything in peace; a new roommate wasn’t at all what he wanted.

“You think Dad will manage?” Sam asked instead of continuing the topic, to which Dean shrugged.

“Probably,” he answered. “Either that or we’ll get a call one night that he wrapped his car around a tree. We can’t change it, Sammy, you know that. He just doesn’t care anymore.”

“Yeah,” Sam sighed and looked out the window. “He never recovered from her death, am I right?”

“Happens when you lose your soulmate,” Dean just said, but it didn’t make anything better. For Sam, it only made things worse.

There it was again: soulmates. Did the robber that broke into their house care about soulmates when he stabbed their mom twenty-two times before letting her die on the kitchen floor? Did the police care about soulmates when they interrogated their dad for hours and hours because they suspected him to have killed her? Did their dad’s boss care for soulmates when he fired him because he had to take care of two little boys all by himself and was completely overwhelmed? Of course not. No one gave a shit about soulmates if it wasn’t about their own. Sam hated it so much.

“I hope my soulmate died already,” Sam huffed, meaning every word. “I don’t care for this crap, look what it got us into.”

“You’re just bitter, that’s all. Once it happens you’ll forget this nonsense.”

“You’ll see,” Sam scoffed, dead serious. “I won’t let this bullshit dictate my life.”

Maybe he was bitter, so what? Sam had seen how much suffering and pain soulmates brought upon families and people, and he didn’t want to be a part of it.

The rest of their drive was mostly silent, but when Dean dropped Sam off at Stanford they hugged and Sam promised to be home for Thanksgiving, even though they both knew he probably wouldn’t be. Thanksgiving was always an awful time in their house, they both didn’t want to be there at that time. Maybe they’d see each other on Christmas, that was possible.

During the first week, Sam managed to calm down from his awful holidays slowly. He finished organizing his schedule and by the time the first other students came to campus at the end of the week, he was actually looking forward to his classes starting. Dean called him once to tell him he moved in with the boys, as he called them, and gave him his new address, but other than that nothing really important happened.

His second year officially started and Sam walked into his first class - that’s when things started to change. Sam suddenly began feeling very weird when the doors closed and their professor began speaking. He barely heard his first words because he was too confused by the strange tingling in his body and actually looked around the room to see if he could find the reason for this unusual sensation. At first, he didn’t even think about soulmates, he feared he was just getting nervous or sick when all other students looked at the professor - apart from one here and there that simply showed no interest at all.

Sam shook his head slowly and tried to concentrate, but it remained a difficult task as if something inside of him constantly wanted to look elsewhere. He barely managed to take any notes properly and cursed himself for screwing up his first lecture like that already when it was over. When he walked over to the next one, he truly hoped this annoyingly distracting feeling would go away. Much to his relief, he actually felt much better during his next lecture. Whatever had happened, Sam tried to convince himself that it was just random anxiety flaring up. The rest of the day went by rather smoothly, which helped him in believing his very weak excuse.

There was only one tiny problem that burst Sam’s happy little bubble the next day. While sitting in a different course, he began feeling the same tingling and lack of concentration again, this time much more intense, however. It got so annoying that Sam spent almost the entirety of the time looking at other students and searching for familiar faces in the crowd. By now he did fear that his body’s weird reaction was due to what he hated so much and it didn’t help at all. There were a lot of people he had seen in his first course already sadly, too many to narrow it down to one or two, and they all looked rather disinterested, unlike Sam.

Sam tried his best to ignore this feeling whenever it came back for the rest of the week, but it was nearly impossible. By Friday night, he was so exhausted that he couldn’t even eat before dropping onto his bed and falling asleep. It was draining to constantly ignore his body’s needs and go against his instincts.

When he woke up on Saturday, around noon, which never happened before, Sam decided to call Dean to find out if he knew what the hell was going on. Sadly, his brother knew exactly what he was talking about.

“You really have no idea, do you?” Dean asked, almost laughing at the other end of the line. Sam was not happy about this reaction.

“I have one and I don’t like it,” he huffed and plopped down on the floor. “Tell me I’m going insane or have Malaria or whatever, just not this!”

“Sorry, little brother, but it’s true. That’s your body’s reaction when your soulmate is near you.”

“Oh, come on!” Sam protested and threw his hands up. “Not here! Not now, goddammit! I’ve got lectures to attend, I don’t have time for this shit!”

“You can either live with it or try to find out who’s causing it,” Dean suggested, obviously still grinning like the idiot he was. “It’s your choice.”

“And how do I find out who they are?” Sam asked annoyed. “There are dozens of students and none of them looked like they had the same thing happening to them!”

“Then they hide it pretty well, that’s funny.”

“I’m not laughing, Dean! I called you to help me, not make it worse!”

“Okay, okay,” Dean laughed again. “Allow your brother some fun, geez. You can try to narrow it down if you’re patient, might work.”

“And how do I do that?” Sam was out of ideas and completely pissed off about this.

“Be in class first and watch who comes in. If you start feeling like that again, bingo! You got your soulmate.”

“Seriously, that’s your big advice?”

“A bullet to the head should get rid of it too but I doubt that’s very helpful.”

Sam groaned and slapped a hand against his forehead. As much as he hated to admit it, Dean’s idea wasn’t the worst. Searching for his soulmate his own way had not worked and he had no energy to walk around campus to maybe spot them somewhere. It was worth a try at least.

“I swear if it’s that ugly guy with the dreadlocks and piercings all over I’m gonna throw up and kill myself…” Sam eventually sighed, to which Dean laughed again.

“Who knows, maybe it’s a hot chick with big arguments? You won’t know if you don’t try to find out, right?”

“I’m gonna kill you one day, I hope you know that.”

“Of course, bitch. Tell me when you start dating the dreadlock guy, alright?”

“In your dreams, jerk,” Sam huffed and hung up, but he couldn’t hold back a smile at Dean’s last comment. The idea was laughable, but he still didn’t know who it was, so it might not be too far away from the truth.

Sam debated his new plan over the weekend - luckily he didn’t experience any weird distraction or sensation over those days - and came to the conclusion that it was the best idea he had. There was no downpouring rain when someone met their soulmate or bells ringing or anything like that, so there really was little else to do and find out. When Monday came and his first lecture was ahead, Sam walked into class thirty minutes early just to be completely sure.

At first, nothing happened. Several groups of girls walked in, giggling and laughing, but he felt no different than before. In fact, he didn’t feel anything at all for the whole thirty minutes and already cursed Dean in his mind for this stupid idea when the professor started talking, but then it suddenly happened and he basically spun around in his seat, eyes wide and heart beating mercilessly in his chest. He would have even been happy about the dreadlock guy when he realized who he was looking at right now.

“Mister Milton,” the professor said strict and very annoyed, to which Sam’s heart dropped in his chest. “I won’t tolerate being late to my lectures, this is your one and only warning.”

Sam wanted to hide in his seat when he saw the death glare the blond gave their professor, but all he could do was stare. The guy was definitely older than him, a few years probably, and looked like he jumped straight out of a punk band from twenty years ago. His blond hair stood up in spikes and his clothes were torn and ripped and had spikes everywhere possible. Even his face was creepy, kind of, with this slightly disgusted expression and the pierced lip and ears - Sam only saw one but he was sure both were covered in holes.

“No reason to wet your pants, go take a Valium or something...” the blond said with a low and grumpy voice that sent shivers down Sam’s spine and began walking towards an empty seat in the back row, maybe twenty feet away from the other.

“You can drop this attitude right here and now, Mister Milton,” the professor scolded the student again when he sat down and promptly put his feet down on his desk. “All it will get you is a trip to the headmaster. And now I would like to continue, since everyone arrived finally.”

“You can drop dead for all I care,” Sam heard his supposed soulmate mumble and his jaw nearly dropped at that.

As fast as he could, Sam turned around again, just so he didn’t have to look at this guy anymore. This couldn’t be, this had to be a joke! His soulmate couldn’t possibly be this rude punk that looked like he was in his mid-twenties already and that apparently thought he owned the world?! Sam covered his face in his hands and stopped paying attention to the professor altogether, just cursing himself for even listening to his stupid brother and his idiotic ideas.

The same old man manned the register up front, his head bent over a biography of Kafka. Sam gave him a nod, which was received with nothing more than a quick flickering glance. He wound his way through the stacks of books - Historical, Literature, Poetry, Folklore. A title on banshees caught his attention. He might pick that one up on his way out.

His feet dragged to a full stop in front of Classics. A small mint-green paperback was wedged inexplicably between Ovid and Pindar, probably shelved by the old man in a rush to get back to the existential anxiety of Kafka. Sam pulled it slowly from the shelf and his smile widened.

“The Ancient Tradition of Geometric Problems”.

Jess rolled her eyes at the title when she saw it sitting on their coffee table. She was smart, had to be to get into Stanford, but she liked her classes to be more grounded - the feel of chalk and charcoal under her fingers, the play of light and shadow - not ruminations on ancient math and science.

She lifted her beer bottle, that cute little wrinkle between her eyes. “Incommensurable magnitudes? Really? C’mon, Sam, it’s Friday night.”

This book didn’t have the same layer of dust as the others, a new addition of an old title. He cracked the spine with reverence and leaned in, nostrils flaring a little at the smell of fresh ink and newly cut paper, so heady that he slumped against the bookcase. This edition was pristine while his own copy from that class years ago had been covered in highlighter pen and scrawled notes for conversations with Professor Singh, who appreciated Sam’s enthusiasm during Thursday afternoon office hours.

He slid to the floor to sit cross-legged, lost among the piles of musty books and his nostalgia. It burned in his chest, and flipping through the pages brought back all the small things Stanford had given him, a brief reprieve from monsters and death, an indulgence of discourse. But only too brief.

“Need any help?” the old man said. His frail figure towered over Sam on the floor, specter-like, and Sam sat up, embarrassed to be caught buried so deep in his own thoughts.

He wiped at his eyes. “Uh, no. I’m fine.”

***

Sam tossed the books on the motel’s dinette table, and removed his jacket as Dean stepped over to hand him a cold beer. His brother took a sip as he scattered the book titles out on the table.

“Banshees. Always a classic.” Dean pushed the first book to the side and then held up the thin mint green one, a smirk on his face. “Ancient science? You’re such a nerd. C’mon, Sam, it’s Friday night. Live a little.”

“Hello Class, my name is Professor Williamson” The professor had chosen this exact moment to enter the room and announce that the seats you had chosen would become your permanent seats. The class had passed by uneventfully and when it was time to leave you slipped on your headphones and pressed shuffle. You hummed along as you walked back to your dorm room to do the assigned reading. But it had been so beautiful outside that you couldn’t bear to lock yourself indoors, so you sat under the beautiful willow tree that grew by the pond and began to read.

Not much time passed by before a quiet voice said,

“Um… excuse me, Y/N right?” You smiled and removed your headphones, as you looked up at him your eyes widened. You hadn’t realized how tall he was. “Um… is it okay if I sit here? I usually do, this is kinda ‘my tree’ but I don’t want to just plop down next to you…”

“Of course Sam! I’m just reading, it’s no big deal. Have a seat,” You stopped him as he began to sit down, your Y/E/C eyes meeting his multicolored hazel eyes, “on one condition. This isn’t your tree. This is our tree.”

Later That School Year…

I had gotten to class early, flipping through the pages of our class reading book, trying to squeeze in a few extra chapters before the Professor came in. Generally I enjoyed reading, choosing books over the television plenty of times, but I just wasn’t wrapping my head around this one in particular; the story was slow… Agonizingly slow. I sighed audibly, shutting the cover on the book just as the other students began filing into the room; my mood picking up slightly when I saw the familiar long brown locks making their way over towards me. My smile slipped off my face however when I saw the frown on his lips, his hair unusually messy - as though he had been running his fingers through it in frustration. “Hey” I whispered, “You okay?” “Oh…uh yeah…just…my brother” he mumbled back, his forced smile turning into more of a grimace. “Did you want to talk about it?” “Um no it’s fine…I mean I’m fine…I mean” He paused as he took his glasses off to rub his eyes, “Really I’m fine, it was nothing” I was about to try and get more out of him when Professor Williamson walked into the room, heading straight over to the blackboard to write down the classes session for today; everyone went silent as he began to talk. “Now, as I am sure you are all at least three quarters of the way through our book you will have enough information to complete the assignment I am about to hand out.”

My eyes widened slightly as his words, the lump in my throat growing bigger as I stared down at my desk, down at the book I was going to have to do an assignment on even though I was only twenty pages in…this could not be happening; the idea of failing this class left a bitter taste on the back of my throat, a thin line of tears shining against my waterline.

“This assignment will be worth sixty percent of your final grade; I will be giving you the rest of this lesson to prep” “Y/N you…you okay?” I looked up at Sam’s face, shaking my head slowly. Sixty percent? I couldn’t think of  anyway that I was going to get this done, my heart beginning to rapidly beat against my ribcage. “Want to come to the library with me?” I whispered pitifully.

The two of us walked to the library, Professor Williamson allowed us to leave and use our time how we wanted. I walked silently beside Sam trying to control my breathing. I had two days to finish this 25-page paper. I have only read the first three chapters and this book had 37. I am screwed. The two of you arrived at the library and you immediately found an empty table and sat down, beginning to read.

“Y/N?” Sam said, taking my arm causing me to look up. “Did you hear anything I just said?” “Uh… no Sam, I’m sorry, I just can’t breathe, I was totally in panic mode. I’m listening now.” I said, squaring my shoulders to face him, trying to hide my waves of panic as they crashed through me.

“Y/N, Breathe.” Sam started, a small smile crept through his features as I took a deep breath and looked up at him with wide eyes. “I’ve read the entire book already, and taken notes, swap me copies, you can skim the book and use my post-it notes instead.” The tension in my shoulders immediately and visibly lessened, and Sam seemed to notice. “Here, we can go to my dorm right now and order some takeout. You can read while I rub your shoulders.”

“Sam, you are my knight in dorky glasses.” I smiled weakly and threw my arms around his neck, “Thank you…”

Sam’s POV:

I couldn’t help but fall in love with her more and more as I sat on the couch behind her. She was cross-legged on the floor on front of me, so focused on the reading. She was smart and she would ace the project. She always did. She had tied her hair up in a bun, but little pieces of hair fell out and framed her face and oh my god it looked like she had just woken up. I rubbed her neck and shoulders and she rested her head on my knee. I didn’t realize she had fallen asleep until the doorbell rang telling us that the food was here and she didn’t leap up and run for the door like she always did. I gently woke her up and answered the door, paying for the food and setting it on the coffee table. We ate in comfortable silence and when we finished we sat on the couch, me typing away on my laptop and Y/N reading with her head on my shoulder.

By ten o’clock she was falling asleep again. I hated waking her up, she looked so peaceful. But she would never forgive me if I let her sleep all night without washing her face. She always had to wash her face before she went to bed.

“Y/N…Y/N wake up. You need to go shower and sleep in your own bed.” I said, gently shaking her to wake her up. “You smell.” I added laughing softly.

“Saaaammmmmm nnnnoooooo” She groaned. “I’ll just sleep here…”

“Y/N you need to wash your face, and I won’t be able to sleep because you’ll keep me up with your sleep-talking.”

“Fiiinnnneeeee” She finally agreed, gathering her stuff from around the room.

“Can I walk you home?” I asked, still a bit shy even though I knew she would’ve asked me to if I didn’t offer. Dean had wanted me to get back into hunting with him, he said there might be a job in the area. I couldn’t leave this, leave Y/N… I cared too much about her.

“It’s not a ‘Can I’ question, it’s more of a ‘you have to’ statement.” Y/N shot back, smiling.

We walked in silence for a bit as I rehearsed what I was going to say. Tonight was the night. I was going to ask her out on a real date. Not hang out, a real actual date. Just as I was opening my mouth to speak a familiar, gruff voice called my name and I saw Dean running toward Y/N and me.

I watched slightly irritated as he closed the distance between us, I couldn’t believe that he was here after our phone call earlier. I didn’t want to go back to work and he knew that; I was about to speak up when he cut across me. “Sammy man I told you I needed your help earlier, this isn’t an optional thing” “I’m out Dean, I won’t go back” “Sam?” I turned back to where Y/N was standing, her eyes concerned, “If you need to go I can walk myself the rest of the way…it sounds important” “No no Y/N it’s fine really, It isn’t that important, I’m sure Dean can handle it himself” I turned back to my Brother who had his eyebrows cocked, his arms raised out either side of his body. “The hell man?” He grumbled, “I wouldn’t of called if it wasn’t important! look the job isn’t far from here…work it with me and I’ll leave you alone” “Fine” I relented, “I’m walking Y/N home first though so I’ll just meet you there” Dean fished a folded up piece of paper out of his jeans pocket, squinting slightly as he read of the address; however when I heard it I froze, looking at Y/N to see if she had heard. “But…but that’s my address…” She said quietly, her eyes wide and afraid as she looked at me.

Reader POV:

I looked at Sam with wide eyes, my heart hammering against the inside of my ribcage, my hands shaking slightly by my side.

I didn’t even know Sam’s brother but I could tell by his face expression that the situation wasn’t good; the silence stretching between them only serving to freak me out more. I turned on my heel quickly, ignoring Sam as he called out my name; all I couldn’t think about was getting home now, making sure that everything was okay, that everyone was safe.

“Y/N wait!” I stopped when Sam grabbed my arm, holding me in place, his wide hazel eyes full of concern. “We’re coming with you okay? It might not be safe”

“What does that even mean Sam?” I asked quietly.

“Can we save this conversation for another time ?” Dean cut in impatiently, stalking past the both of us.

Sam squeezed my shoulder sympathetically, walking off just behind his brother.

It was another ten minutes of silent walking before we reached my house, the tension hanging in a thick cloud above us.

I looked at the front porch, not noticing anything that looked out of place, the only thing odd was that all the lights were off except for the kitchen.

I went to move but Dean’s arm shot out in front of me, causing me to stumble back against Sam; Dean raised a finger to his lips, reaching under his jacket and pulling out a silver hand gun.

“What the hell is that for?” I hissed quietly, the fear now extremely real.

However neither of them answered me.

I rested my hand onto Sam’s shoulder, desperate for him to look at me and say that everything was okay, there was no reason for me to worry; however he never did. Sam looked at his brother quickly, their silent conversations starting to irritate me. “Y/N I want you to stay out here okay?” Sam stated, “Do not go into the house, no matter what you hear” I stood back a few feet, nodding my head simply, watching the ground under my feet; my mind was filling quickly with worse case scenarios, the lump in my throat growing bigger, the thought of Sam in trouble causing me to chew on my bottom lip anxiously. I stood still and listened for ten minutes before I heard it, the grunt of pain, something shattering. Without a second thought on what Sam had said I flew up the porch stairs, bursting in through the front door; my breath leaving my lungs and I saw the scene in front of me. Sam was up against the wall, my Father’s hands around his neck, his long legs kicking widely as he tried to pry them off his skin; however as soon as my noisy entrance was heard they both turned. “Well well well” Dad chanted, a maniacal laugh leaving his mouth, “Darling look who it is” “We were wondering when you were going to get here Y/N” I turned at the sound of Mum’s voice, my eyes widening as I took in the blood covering the front of her dress, the large kitchen knife in one hand. Tears welled along my waterline as I struggled to make sense of what was happening, these people couldn’t be my parents, couldn’t be the people I had looked up to and cherished my whole life.

“Y/N leave!” Sam gasped loudly, “Get out right now” “I don’t think I asked for your opinion Winchester” Dad spat, slamming Sam back into the wall before throwing him into the china cabinet; porcelain and glass broke around him, raining down over his body as it slumped to the floor. “SAM!” I cried, the tears flowing freely now.

I ran toward Sam but was thrown back by my… he wasn’t my father anymore.

“Dad- Dad this isn’t you! Please! I don’t know what’s going on–” I was suddenly unable to speak, or even breathe as my Mother’s hands clasped around my throat. My fingers wrapped around her wrists, trying to pull her off me but she was to strong, her hands only tightening. Black spots swam in front of my vision just as I noticed Dean crawling across the floor towards us, blood spilling down his cheek from a cut above his eyebrow.

He began chanting in latin, and my Father screamed and threw himself at Dean, slamming his head against the floor effectively knocking him out. I was quickly losing my battle to stay conscious. As I felt myself fade, slip deeper and deeper into this dark dreamland, I heard Sam speaking in latin, my parents threw their heads back and screamed as black smoke billowed out of their mouths. It was all too much, and I was out before I hit the floor.

Third Person POV:

“Dean! Y/N!”  Sam yelled, as Dean’s eyes slowly opened.

“W-what happened Sammy?” Dean groaned, Standing up. “Any survivors? Is your friend okay?”

“Go look for survivors. I’m going to take Y/N to the car. We need to leave, the cops’ll be here soon.” He said rushing to her side and scooping her up. As he got her to the car and laid her in the backseat, Dean ran out of the house and to the car, starting the engine and driving off as the sound of sirens grew louder. Dean drove as quickly as he could to the bunker, breaking several laws in the process; paying no attention to the fact he was driving at least ten over the limit. Sam and Y/N were in the backseat, her head in his lap, her breathing shallow. When they got to the bunker Sam carried Y/N in and laid her on his bed.