#sam au

Sun shoots Blood Moon with the barrel; one of them barely survives the blast while the other perished.

The sleepier half hides in the vents; tiny, scared, and alone for the first time ever.

He spends a lot of time sleeping, letting the remaining nanomachines stabilize his form. His waking moments are spent missing his other half, despairing that either both should have lived or both should have died but never separated.

It takes a bit but he eventually realizes his other would be more upset with him for wasting this chance at life than if he never moved on.

With new determination, he finally leaves the vents to find food. He's a bit small to catch rodents so he digs through the trash instead

One of these times, Earth comes upon him. Blood Moon is terrified of the giant animatronic. She easily scoops him up despite his yowls and squirms. She takes him back to the daycare, feeding him some cat food from Sun's room.

Once fed Blood Moon manages to slip away to hide again.

Earth claims she found one of Sun's cats digging through the garbage, only to learn he didn't have a orange cat and she probably brought in a stray

Earth continues finding Blood Moon and feeding him. Eventually learning that he hides in the vents, she starts to leave a bowl of food near his most frequent exits instead of trying to grab him all the time.

Despite how many times Earth has seen and fed Blood Moon, no one else (except for the computer, but they aren't snitching) can ever find him. They could hear him in the vents or see the tip of a tail disappearing around the corner. If Sun didn't know better, he would think Earth was eating the cat food... okay the thought crossed his mind, but he didn't entertain the idea.

Blood Moon warms up to Earth over the next few months, even starting to stick around after eating. Earth is convinced he's a kitten since his growth seems to line up pretty well.

Earth starts calling him Mars (little red planet) and Blood Moon doesn't mind.

Mars avoids Sun and Moon like the plague, but is okay in the presence of Lunar. They take naps together and they sometimes run together (Mars' tiny legs don't go as far). Mars isn't sure what is chasing them, but it's apparently very scary

The first time Sun and Moon meet Mars is when new Bloodmoon goes to hurt Earth and Lunar. He came rushing into the daycare, yowling and screeching up a storm till they followed him. No one got hurt, but new Bloodmoon still escaped.

“You quit hunting for a year, Sam. I can take a weekend off and go out,” Dean asked, his voice dripping with haughty disdain. Sam frowned, looking up at Dean from his laptop. He watched warily as he packed his bag.

“You’re leaving?” he questioned quietly. Dean scoffed as he aggressively shoved his bathroom kit into his bag and zipped his duffle.

“Yeah,” he retorted bitterly. “I’ll be back sometime on Monday. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Y/N should be back sometime tomorrow, and I know she’d like to see you…” Sam said softly. Dean froze, his hand on the doorknob. He hadn’t seen her since he got back from Purgatory. She had kept hunting, he thought disgustedly. He twisted the knob and opened the door roughly.

“Then she’ll see me when I get back,” Dean snapped, as he stepped over the threshold. Sam watched his older brother with guilt in his eyes.

“Be safe,” he said so quietly Dean wasn’t certain he even heard it. He merely glanced at his brother as he slammed the door shut, refusing to let those puppy dog eyes affect him. Instead, he threw his bag into the trunk of the Impala and slid into the front seat. Firing up the engine, he grinned wickedly and rubbed his hand over the dashboard lovingly.

“I missed you too, baby,” he cooed at the machine. Moments later he was driving down the open road, leaving his worries and his little brother behind in a cloud of dust.

“The fuck do you mean, he just left you there by yourself? You told him what’s going on right?” Y/N asked over the phone as she drove to where Sam was now waiting for her, alone. Sam remained silent. “Sam? You told him right?”

“He’s got enough going on. He doesn’t need this on his shoulders, too,” Sam said dejectedly. Y/N had to restrain herself from chewing her husband out. She loved the man with her entire heart and soul, but sometimes he just didn’t think.

“Sammy, this is like… life-altering information,” she said carefully. Sam snorted indignantly on the other end.

“Yeah, I’m aware of that, Y/N,” he responded, a sarcastic touch to his typically gentle voice. Y/N rolled her eyes.

“What I mean is it’s more than we eloped while he was gone. He needs to know about the medical stuff too,” she explained gently. She heard Sam sigh on the other end and it caused her to press her foot a little harder on the gas pedal.

 “I know. I know. It’s just he’s been so angry since he got back, and we didn’t look for him,” he started but Y/N interrupted him.

“I did look for him. I swear I did. But, you were in a coma for months, Sammy. I thought you were gonna die. I thought he already was dead. I had my hands full, and I’m sorry if my head wasn’t on straight,” she snapped defensively.

“Hey,” Sam said gently. “No one’s blaming you.”

Y/N swallowed the rest of her defensiveness. Dean’s blaming me. And he’s blaming you. And I want to tear his throat out because of it.

“If Dean knew what happened, maybe he would be a bit more understanding,” she said with an exaggerated calm, keeping her rage to herself as she had been doing for almost a year now.

“I know, honey,” Sam said reassuringly. And he did know. Y/N took the brunt of everything that happened after they blew up the laboratory. She was the one who found Sam bleeding and unresponsive, got him to the hospital, and waited eagerly by his side. This, while trying to find out what happened to Dean and Castiel. She was the one who meticulously researched everything while sitting next to him as he lay in a coma for months on end, going back to the ruined lab to see if she could learn anything new, then finally accepting the idea that Dean and Cas were dead. She was the one who prayed to whoever was actively listening to let Sam live so she could at least have one of the brothers still in her life.

When he finally woke up all those months later and looked at her, he was relieved to see her sitting there next to him. But when Y/N saw him awake, she burst into exhausted sobs that left him confused and bereft. It was another month after that before Sam could properly speak and asked about Dean. It was another two months after that before he could stand up and walk out of the hospital.

Sam was now armed with a new diagnosis and a medication regimen that left him restricted from various things he used to do like driving them around and hunting things that go bump in the night.

The elopement was his idea. She didn’t think it was necessary, but given the new medical circumstances, Sam didn’t want to take any chances. He needed someone to be able to legally take care of him if he was ever incapacitated again.

“You don’t want to marry me?” Sam had asked sadly, gently wrapping his arms around her. Y/N pressed a hard kiss to his mouth before resting her forehead on his.

“Of course, I want to marry you, dumbass. I just don’t want it to be because of…”

“It’s not,” Sam eagerly interrupted her. “I’ve been wanting to do this for a while, just never had the balls to really ask you. Then this all happened and… Well. I don’t want to go another day without you as my gorgeous wife.”

They went to the local courthouse the next day. She wore a thrift store dress of white satin; he was in his FBI suit and Dean’s tie. There were no witnesses, no family, no friends. Just them and the judge. It was bittersweet.

Y/N had voluntarily stopped hunting for a while to make sure Sam was stable with the proper medications and the new things he had to monitor. He had just convinced Y/N that she could go and take care of a small hunt a state away when Dean showed back up.

A lot had yet to be discussed.

“Sorry. I know you know. And you know I know you know. We just have to get Dean-o on the same page,” Y/N said on a heavy exhale. Sam smiled knowingly on his end of the phone. Hearing delighted laughter outside his room, he stood up and looked out the window of the hotel room. It was just starting to get dark and already there were local kids dressed up in costumes walking around.

“Hey, Y/N. You know what today is, right?” he asked her, smiling at a particularly adorable pumpkin that walked by holding the hand of her smiling father. He chuckled at her exasperated groan on the other end of the call.

“Don’t remind me. I hate this holiday. The only thing it’s good for is the amazing access to candy,” Y/N said. Sam laughed out loud this time.

“That’s bullshit,” Sam said knowingly. “You genuinely love Halloween.”

“I do love Halloween. Please tell me you have a bag of Twix there waiting for me,” Y/N said with a smile in her voice.

“I have it right here, along with the other candy you asked for,” he said, picking up the bag. Y/N instantly heard it rustle on the other end and she smiled widely.

“You spoil me. I’ll be there in about an hour. I love you, Sammy,” she said quietly.

“I love you too. Drive safely,” he replied before hanging up. He sighed heavily as he looked wistfully around the hotel room. Dean may have been angry and left him alone, but at least he had Y/N coming home to him. She really was his lifesaver, in more ways than one.

Deciding he wanted to have some sodas in the room before she got in, he grabbed his wallet and pulled out a few dollar bills. He snagged the key to the room, walked out, and headed down the stairs to the vending machines. He knew he should have said something to Dean about them getting a room on the ground floor at this motel, but that would have meant a conversation longer than just a few sentences. Dean wasn’t having that with his baby brother right then.

Sam shook his head dejectedly. He knew things were tough between them because of all the unspoken words, but it wasn’t like Dean was making it easy to open up to him. Dean was angry and hurting, and Sam wasn’t about to add to that mess with his issues… especially when the anger and hurt were because of Sam.

Selecting three different sodas, Sam carried them back up the stairs. Halfway up, he started to feel something come over him. There was a weird numbness spreading across his chest and a metallic taste forming in his mouth. Oh, God, he thought miserably. Please not now.

He tried moving faster to get to the top of the stairs, but it was then the worst possible thing happened. His vision tunneled, his arms lost their rigidity, and before he could say anything, his jaw locked shut.

The last thing he was aware of was the helpless feeling of falling.

The doors to the emergency room slammed open, causing everyone in the small waiting room to jump in fright. In such a quiet town, the last thing they expected was someone to be rushed frantically into the small hospital.

“Male, mid-thirties, definitely has a concussion, broken right arm, possibly a few broken ribs,” the EMT shouted furiously at the nurses who ran up to them. Sam looked pale on the gurney, blood matting his disheveled hair against his head and seeping into the gauze resting at the back of his neck.

“He was allegedly seizing for at least seven minutes when we got there according to the guest who saw him fall,” a different medical tech said, desperately trying to take his blood pressure again. “Looks like he fell down the stairs when the seizure started.”

“Make a hole!” a nurse shouted frantically to the unaware people standing nearby. They darted nervously out of the way, anxiously watching with wide eyes as the team rushed by him. As soon as they got into an open room, a flurry of urgent actions happened at once. One nurse was attaching leads to his chest to track his heart rate as another was cutting open his shirt and pulling it out of the way; a third taking his vitals; a fourth was getting information from the paramedics. A male doctor walked in pulling his stethoscope over his head.

“Said his name was Sam Winchester when we were able to get him awake for a few minutes, but no other information,” a paramedic shouted before walking out of the room. The doctor nodded his head at them as he checked the patient’s pupils. The sluggish reaction made him frown.

“Yeah, we definitely got a concussion here,” he said grimly.

“Someone get me his medical records! We need to know what we are dealing with!”

Y/N stormed into the local emergency room with wide, scared eyes. She stalked up to the desk causing the nurse sitting there to look up at her expectantly.

“I got a call from this hospital that my husband was brought in. Sam Winchester?” she asked eagerly, her voice shaky. The nurse immediately nodded her head and stood, gesturing for Y/N to follow her. Y/N instantly followed the nurse down the private hallway to where the private rooms were.

“Yes, Mrs. Winchester. He was brought in about two hours ago after falling down some stairs at the motel you are staying at when he started having a complex seizure,” the nurse carefully explained, leading her down to a room. Y/N gently shook her head.

“He hasn’t had a violent seizure in three months,” she said fearfully. The nurse shrugged.

“I don’t know what to tell you, ma’am. His room is right here if you want to wait. I’ll go and get his doctor, so he can answer your questions,” she said before promptly turning and walking away. Y/N nodded then stopped her.

“Wait! Did you call his brother? Dean?” she asked tentatively. The nurse paused and turned to look at Y/N. The expression on her face was regretful. “What?”

“I did call his brother. He didn’t seem very concerned. He said he’d get here when he could,” the nurse said gently. Y/N’s face slowly went from concerned to thunderous and cold.

“If he shows up,” she said stonily, “don’t let him in the room.” The nurse nodded, then turned and walked off to find the doctor. Y/N watched her walk away and tried to control her fury. It was one thing for Dean to be a dick to Sam. However, acting like his brother being in the hospital was nothing more than a grave inconvenience was unacceptable. She took a deep breath before walking cautiously into Sam’s room.

He was laying in the hospital bed watching television, his broken arm in a cast and sling. He looked over at her when she walked in, an embarrassed grin on his exhausted face. Y/N exhaled a heavy sigh and gently shook her head at him, blinking tears away.

“Hey,” he said quietly. “I’m okay.” Y/N scoffed and shook her head again.

“Your arm is in a cast. How is that okay?” she asked incredulously, sniffling. Sam waved her over, scooting over on the bed.

“It’s better than last time,” he gently explained. Y/N sat down on the hospital bed next to him. He leaned over and carefully pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “I could tell it was coming. I just… I was just walking up the stairs when it happened.”

“The stairs?” she exclaimed in horror. “What the hell were you doing on stairs? Sammy, we talked about this.” She looked down, and took his hand in hers, interlacing their fingers. She intentionally kept her eyes on their joined hands, so he didn’t see how upset she was, how worried she had been. Not that it would matter, he’d know just by hearing her speak.

“I know we did, but Dean got a room on the second floor…” he started, trailing off when she looked up with a fierce glare.

“Don’t talk to me about Dean,” she growled viciously. Sam’s mild expression changed to one of confusion but before he could ask what the issue was, the doctor walked in.

“Hello, Mrs. Winchester. I see you have found your husband,” he said. “I’m Doctor Wyatt.” Y/N forced a smile on her face and turned to look at the doctor.

“Yes, I have. Tell me, what’s the damage?”

“Who the hell said I can’t see my brother?” Dean demanded loudly. He was at a bar when he got the call that his brother was admitted to the hospital, but when they said it wasn’t anything too serious he figured the kid could sit there and stew in it for a little while. Punishment for all that he did while Dean was gone, he thought. Now that he was there, trying to see the kid, he was being denied. The nurse at the station looked back at the screen and typed a few lines.

“Mrs. Y/N Winchester. She said no one other than her is allowed in the room to see Sam. I’m sorry, but as his spouse, we have to honor her wishes,” the nurse said with a shrug, missing the look of complete shock on Dean’s face. “By law, there is nothing we can do.”

“Mrs. Winchester?” he asked, his voice stunned. A noise distracted him, and he looked left only to see Y/N herself standing in the hallway talking to a man in a white lab coat. She had her arms wrapped around herself as if she were physically holding herself together, having what looked like a very intense discussion with the doctor. Without even thinking about it, Dean’s feet started moving him in that direction.

“It’s imperative that we manage his stress levels and get his blood pressure back down to a more stable level,” Dean heard the doctor say to Y/N as he walked up. “Or else this could very well become a regular occurrence, and we’ll have to change his meds again.”

“We are not changing his medications again. The last time we did, the side effects caused severe damage to his blood sugar, and he had to be on insulin for a month,” Y/N said frustrated. The doctor looked pointedly at her.

“Then I suggest whatever matter has him this strung out gets handled soon,” he said gently. Dean stepped up to the two of them furiously, causing them to turn and look at him.

 “Since when are you Mrs. Winchester, Y/N?” he sneered, his breath reeking of alcohol. Y/N’s expression went from distressed to cold in seconds when she looked at the older Winchester brother.

“You’re drunk?!” Y/N growled, the doctor looking on in concern. “You came to the hospital, to see your brother, drunk?”

“Answer my question!” Dean shouted. The doctor turned and called for security.

“Get out of here, Dean. Talk to me when you sober up,” Y/N said with a shake of her head, turning to walk into Sam’s room.

“Hey! I’m talking to you!” Dean snapped, grabbing Y/N’s arm. In a flash, Y/N turned and punched Dean in the face. Not expecting the hit, Dean’s head snapped to the left and he went sprawling to the floor as two orderlies walked up on the scene. The doctor was shouting at them. Y/N shook her hand, wincing. Dean touched his face with his fingers, pulling them away to see blood from his nose, then looked up at Y/N in surprise.

“Get out. You’re not seeing Sam,” Y/N said lowly before turning and walking into the room. The orderlies helped Dean to stand, but he shrugged them off, glared at the room, then stormed out of the hospital. They didn’t want him there. Fine. He’d take off. Let her handle it.

But something in the back of his head, the part that used to remember how to be Sammy’s big brother, told him he was missing something. Something big was happening here, and he missed it. Dean climbed into the Impala and waited.

It was two and a half hours later he saw Y/N walk out. She had a hand full of paperwork and a small bag of what looked like to be prescriptions in her hand. He watched as she walked over to her midnight blue Shelby, looking over the paperwork in her hand. As she approached the car, he watched as she let her tough exterior crack for a moment.

She had to think she was alone because there was no way she’d have let either of the brothers see this otherwise. Y/N leaned against the door to her car and just… wilted. Her entire body looked like it caved in on itself with the weight of the entire world on her shoulders. Her usual confident expression melted away to vulnerability and exhaustion that he rarely saw on Y/N. 

Then she did something he had only seen her do three times his entire life: she started to cry. Dean felt his heart pick up in his chest. What the hell is going on?

Just then, his cell phone started ringing. He glanced at the caller ID before answering it. 

Sam.

“Sam…” Dean answered his eyes back on Y/N. 

“Hey, Dean. I know they called you from the hospital,” Sam said, his voice showing his dejection. Dean smirked viciously.

“Yeah well, your wife refused to let me in,” he sneered. Sam sighed. 

“So, you know about that…” he said carefully. Dean watched as Y/N took a deep breath, wiped her eyes, and straightened. 

“Is there more that I don’t know?” Dean asked defensively. 

“Yeah. We need to talk, Dean. I know you want to go spend the weekend away from me, but…” Sam said, and that’s when Dean heard it. The hesitancy, the underlying sadness, the wariness. Sam’s acting as if he already knows Dean will say no. He looked back at Y/N and saw she was unlocking her car and getting in.

“Give me a couple of hours, Sam. I’ll meet you at the motel,” Dean said distractedly.

“Really?” Sam asked, surprise coloring his tone. Dean watched as Y/N drove her car around, pulled up to the front doors of the emergency room, and parked. She got out of her car and opened the passenger door. 

“Yeah, see you soon,” he said, hanging up. He then watched as a nurse pushed a wheelchair out with Sam in it to Y/N’s car. Sam, with his arm in a sling, went to stand up but Y/N seemed to stop him. Sam looked at her with fond exasperation and waited as she did something in her car first, then stepped back out and nodded. Moving gingerly, Sam pushed himself into a standing position and shook the hand of the nurse before moving into Y/N’s car. Once he was settled, Y/N shut the door and turned to the nurse. The two spoke for a few moments before the nurse held out a pamphlet of some kind to her. Y/N took it with a slow nod. She looked at the pamphlet while walking back to the driver’s side and getting in. 

Dean felt like he was intruding on an intimate moment between his brother and his wife as he watched the two interact after she got into the car. Y/N sat in the car for a few moments, just staring at the steering wheel before looking over at Sam with a small smile. Sam took her hand and pressed his lips to her knuckles, changing the smile on Y/N’s face to something much more tender and loving. Y/N then leaned her head down onto their intertwined hands for a moment, causing Sam to lean over and kiss her on the top of her head. 

Yeah, they did need to talk. 

Dean knocked on the door to the new room Sam had texted him about a few hours later. It had given him some time to calm down and get his head on straight. He wasn’t sure what he was walking into or what he was about to learn but he knew he had to do better than he had.

When the door opened, he came face to face with Y/N.

“What do you want?” she snapped at him. Before he could even open his mouth, Sam answered for him. 

“I asked him to come,” Sam said. Y/N turned around and looked at the man lying on the bed. Dean looked at him as well, really looked at him. He looked pale. And thin. Dean could tell he was in some pain by the slight squint of his eyes, and there was a slight tremor in his hand. 

“You did,” Y/N said, deadpanned. Sam just looked at Y/N and she sighed heavily, stepping back to let Dean in the room. He walked in and shoved his hands into his pockets. 

“Why did you switch rooms?” Dean asked. 

“Because he never should have been on the second floor in the first place,” Y/N growled under her breath. Dean threw a sharp look her way, but again, Sam said something before he could. 

“He didn’t know, Y/N,” he said calmly. 

“And whose fault is that?” Y/N snapped at him. Sam simply frowned at her. The two brothers watched as Y/N ran her fingers through her hair in a fidgety way. She refused to look at either of them. 

“Y/N/N,” Sam whispered, causing her to shake her head slightly. Dean once again felt like he was intruding on an intimate moment between the two of them. He watched as Y/N’s eyes filled slightly, her lower lip trembled just barely, and her arms crossed again to hold herself together. Finally, she shifted her eyes to look at Sam. 

“Do you want to talk to him alone?” she asked quietly, sniffling. Sam nodded slightly. 

“Are you okay with that?” he questioned; his voice just as quiet. She stared at him for a long moment, then released another heavy sigh. 

“Yeah, okay,” she whispered. Dean remained standing where he was and watched as Y/N moved to get Sam a bottle of water and one of the three bottles of medication that sat atop the dresser. She reached inside the mini fridge and pulled out a red apple and carried the items over to the nightstand near Sam. She sat down on the bed next to him.

“You need to eat this,” she said quietly, holding the apple out to him. Sam took it silently. “Your next dose is in two hours. If you are still talking and I’m not here. Two pills, Sam. The entire bottle of water. I set the alarm on your phone already.”

“I know, Y/N,” Sam said softly. She stared at the man she called her husband with no expression on her face. Sam tried again. “I know.” 

“Yeah,” she said, setting the items on the nightstand. She stood and made to move away but Sam caught her wrist, stopping her. Y/N closed her eyes against the emotion there and sat back down. 

“I love you. You know that, right?” Sam said quietly. Y/N stared at Sam for a good 15 seconds before nodding her head. She leaned over and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips and stood up to walk away again. She walked over to where her bag was, pulled out her cell phone and her cigarettes, then turned to the boys. 

“I’ll be at the park across the street. Call me if you need anything,” she said. She turned her expressionless eyes to Dean. “You have two hours before I come back and check on him unless I hear from you that y’all are okay. You cause him any more pain, I swear to God, I will fuck you up, Dean.” 

“Is that a threat?” Dean asked, turning his body to face her, his hands on his hips. 

“It’s a God damn promise,” she swore. Dean’s eyes narrowed. 

“I don’t think you remember who you’re talking to,” Dean practically growled out. 

“Fucking try me,” she bit out. Silence filled the room, Y/N’s threat hanging in the air. Dean studied her and he realized he believed her. He didn’t know what was going on, but if he did something stupid again… yeah, she would tear him apart. He watched as she leaned over and grabbed Sam’s hoodie before turning toward the door. 

“Two hours,” she reminded them, before closing the door behind her. Dean watched her walk out the door and turned to his brother with a frown. 

“I thought she quit smoking,” he asked. Sam shook his head. 

“Yeah, well, you might want to pick up a vice or two again after I fill you in on everything yourself. You uh… want to sit down?” Sam said quietly. Dean watched him carefully and then made his way over to the side of the bed. 

“How are you feeling?” Dean asked distantly. Sam looked at his brother, trying to read if he meant the question or not. When his brother cocked an eyebrow at him impatiently, Sam sighed and shrugged. 

“I’m fine, Dean,” he replied dejectedly. “I just had a small incident that got a little out of hand.” 

“Uh-huh. A small incident includes a broken arm?” Sam mumbled something that Dean didn’t catch, his eyes on the piece of fruit in his hand. “Want to try that again a little louder?” Sam sighed. 

“I said it’s just a fracture from trying to catch myself on the stairs when I fell,” he muttered. Dean blinked in surprise. 

“Okay, Sam. I’m gonna need you to explain a few things. I get a call from a hospital and am told I need to come to get you, only to get there and get told by your wife that I’m not allowed to see you. Since when is Y/N your wife? And why were you in the hospital to begin with? Actually, yeah, let’s start with that. What the fuck is actually going on here,” Dean said firmly. Sam nodded. 

“Okay. Well… After you and Cas disappeared, we still had to blow up the building… and I guess we didn’t do everything correctly or something,” Sam explained. He was quiet for a long moment before his face scrunched up in confusion, shaking his head slowly. “I still don’t really remember this part, actually.” 

“What do you mean you don’t remember?” Dean asked. Sam opened his mouth to say something but hesitated and filled the time by taking a bite of the sweet fruit he promised Y/N he’d eat. Once he swallowed the bite, he answered quietly. 

“I remember setting the fuse for the explosion… and then waking up in the hospital and seeing Y/N sleeping. I hadn’t known what had happened or how long I had been out. When I tried to speak to her, I… I couldn’t,” Sam explained. He lifted his wounded eyes to his brother. Loss and sadness were so deeply etched there, Dean found himself swallowing back his own emotions. “It was like I forgot how to. She had to explain to me what happened… That when the building exploded, we were thrown away. Somehow she cleared the area and made it out with just a busted ankle and a slight concussion. Me? I landed on top of the Impala. My head landed on the roof, but my body landed on the windshield and it snapped my head back. They thought I had broken two or three of the vertebrae and was paralyzed because I wasn’t reacting to any stimuli in my limbs.”

Dean stared at his brother in shock, his eyes wide. “Fuck, Sammy…” 

Tears suddenly sprang to Sam’s eyes at the sound of that name coming from his big brother’s mouth, not realizing how much he missed it. He kept his eyes down so Dean wouldn’t see how hearing the age-old nickname made him feel. Clearing his throat of the tears that clogged it, he continued. 

“I landed on the car so hard, I uh… I cracked my skull. Caused a brain bleed. They had to put a tube into my skull to drain the fluid when my brain swelled too much,” Sam said quietly. Dean gaped at his brother at a loss for what to say. Sam took another bite of the apple, keeping his sad eyes averted. After he swallowed, a self-deprecating smirk played on his lips. 

“You can still feel the scar on the back of my head,” he said, grabbing Dean’s hand. He pressed his brother’s fingers to the back of his head and moved them around until they found the raised flesh. Dean’s expression changed to one of panic as his fingers traced the line that showed where the doctors had his baby brother’s head open. 

“Oh, my God…” 

“I was in a coma for months as the bone healed, I guess. Y/N said I was out for at least 6 months. It took me a while to relearn how to speak again, even longer to stand and walk again. But it was a few days after I woke up that the second scare happened and I had my first seizure,” Sam explained. 

“Wait… a seizure? You had a seizure?” Dean asked in surprise. Sam shook his head, taking a deep breath. Pulling on all the strength he could, he looked up and right into Dean’s eyes.  

“Have. I have seizures,” he said softly. “I just had my first one then. Dean stared at his brother blankly for almost a full minute before he shook his head. 

“I don’t understand.”

“Thanks to the swelling in my brain and the damage that happened when my skull cracked, something happened. I got some kind of brain damage or something and now… now I have seizures,” Sam explained, looking down at the apple in his hand. “It took a long time for us to figure out how to get them under control with medication and diet and lifestyle changes and whatever but…”   

Sam shrugged and tried to smile. It failed and when he lifted his eyes to see Dean, his hazel eyes were filled with sadness and pain. Dean stared back, stricken, and horrified. 

“The blow to my head did a lot of damage, and now it’s something I have to live with.” 

The brothers fell into silence, both lost in thought. Sam started to eat the apple again as he let Dean think about what he said. It was a long time before anyone spoke again.

“That’s why you married Y/N,” Dean said. Sammy nodded slowly. 

“I was planning on marrying her anyway, you know that,” he said with a smile. “This just moved up the timeframe. I needed someone who could make medical decisions for me and we thought you were dead and in heaven…” 

“Wait. You thought I was dead?”

“Well… yeah. Dean, she couldn’t find you, had no leads on where you were. When I was in the coma, Y/N spent half her time trying to figure out what happened to you and the other half of her time waiting on me to wake up. She tried to talk to everyone, even tracked down Crowley,” Sam explained.  

“Crowley? Why would she go to him?” Dean asked. 

“To find answers. Y/N said she had run out of ideas and when she talked to Crowley, he had no ideas either. The thought of purgatory never even entered our minds. She said you had to have died and your body incinerated. It was the only explanation for us not being able to find you,” Sam said. “We know now that wasn’t true, but you have to look at it from her point of view. She had me laid up in the hospital in a coma, you and Cas were gone, and she was alone and devastated. You need to cut her some slack.” Dean shook his head, thinking about what Y/N must have gone through. It certainly explained her current hostility.

He clearly read the situation wrong. 

The two continued their conversation until Sam’s phone alarm went off. He stopped it, sent a text to Y/N, took his meds, and finished the bottle of water. The brothers then continued to talk about everything that happened in the year that Dean was missing. The older Winchester learned a lot about what had happened while he was gone, giving him a new perspective. 

He kept that in mind when he made his way to the park to speak to Y/N.

Y/N had her headphones on, with the music turned up loud enough to block out everything around her. She sat comfortably in one of the reclined Adirondack chairs surrounding the fountain, eyes trained on the water being thrown into the air and falling back down into the cement pond. Her hands were stuffed into the pockets of the hoodie she stole from Sam, legs crossed in front of her, cigarettes long gone. 

When she got the text from the boys saying they were still talking, she started a new playlist and forced herself to remain calm. Sam needed this, she reminded herself. He needs time with his brother, to reconcile and hopefully find some peace between them.

A surge of guilt rushed through her, heavy and familiar as it stole her breath. She tried for so long to find Dean and Castiel while Sam lay unconscious in a hospital bed. She drove back and forth between the hospital and countless leads trying to determine what happened only to turn up empty-handed each time. It was after three months that she finally had to accept Dean and Cas were gone and she needed to focus her energy on the one living Winchester she had left. 

She snorted wetly, lifting a hand to wipe at the moisture filling her eyes with a sleeve. Living. If you could have called what Sam was doing living. The doctors weren’t very optimistic and were trying to convince her to say her final goodbye when she finally lost it on them. The emotional meltdown she had was something Sam didn’t know about, but it included sedation and a couple of sessions with a shrink from the psych ward. 

When the doctor asked about stress, Y/N explained to the good doctor how the accident Sam was in had already taken his brother and his best friend. She wouldn’t be giving up on the man she loved if she could help it. They talked about the sleepless nights, the skipped meals, the loneliness, the guilt. The guilt was the hardest part. She mourned the loss of Cas and Dean, the wound their loss created never really healing because she knew once Sam woke up she had to explain that they were gone to him. 

It took a while, but the good doctor finally got Y/N to admit a little help wouldn’t hurt. She had just finished her first month on the antidepressants when Sam opened his eyes. She keeps the antidepressants hidden in her box of tampons, away from Sam’s prying eyes. He has enough to worry about. She calls the good doctor every month to check in and to give the location of the nearest pharmacy so she can get her refill. 

Feeling eyes on her, Y/N turned her head to the right and saw Dean slowly walking toward her with two paper cups in his hands. She watched him move slowly toward him, studying his face. Gone was the underlying fury that was permanently etched there and in replacement, she found… sadness. Guilt. Understanding. Dare she say it, pride. 

Confusion colored her expression before she could school her features as she reached up and pulled her earbuds from her ears, stuffing them into her pocket. Dean walked up to her and sat down in the chair next to her, offering one of the paper cups over. She accepted it, taking a careful sip. Y/N looked over at him with a raised brow. 

“A year in purgatory and you remembered my coffee order?” she asked quietly. Dean shrugged, settling back into the reclined wooden chair. The two turned their eyes to the fountain and got lost in the sound of moving water. Y/N snuggled down into the chair, holding her coffee with both hands. The warmth from the cup felt good against her cooled skin. Dean sipped his drink from one hand, the other one tapping out a staccato on the armrest of the chair. 

“I owe you either an epic apology or a major thank you. Probably both,” Dean said after a long period of silence. Y/N thought about that for a moment, then shrugged. 

“Or neither,” she muttered emotionlessly. Dean shook his head and looked over at her. 

“No. You took care of Sammy that whole time. You’re taking care of Sammy now. Something I’ve failed to do as of late. I didn’t even realize there was a problem, let alone give him a chance to tell me about one,” Dean said. Y/N nodded slowly. 

“Yeah, you’ve been kind of a dick since you’ve gotten back,” Y/N admitted, taking a sip of her coffee. Dean side-eyed her venomously, causing Y/N to look back at him with a raised brow. “Tell me I’m wrong.” The two fell silent once again. Y/N looked over at Dean and watched him as he looked down at the paper cup in his hand with a frown. An olive branch, then, she thought. 

“I didn’t know how to tell him you were gone when he woke up,” she said so quietly, Dean was almost certain she didn’t say it at all. He turned and looked at her to find Y/N staring at him with eyes that held so much pain. “He was unconscious for so long, and the first thing he always does when he wakes up hurt or sick is look for you. And this time I had to tell him you weren’t there. You were gone, missing. I couldn’t find you anywhere. And I looked everywhere.” 

Dean watched Y/N as she swallowed emotions she didn’t want to be expressing down with a gulp of bitter coffee. She cleared her throat and sniffled, turning her eyes back to the fountain. 

“I called in chits, summoned demons, even tracked down a few assholes from a few lives ago,” she explained with a shake of her head. “No one had any ideas. Thought you had died or something then. It was the only option, y’know? We both figured that’s what happened. He mourned you and was devastated. Inconsolable. I had to keep reminding him you were in heaven and happy.” 

Y/N shook her head, sniffling again. She wiped the tears out of her eyes with the sleeve of her sweatshirt and laughed bitterly. 

“Imagine my surprise and guilt when Sam called me, said you showed up alive and well. Told me it was Purgatory and nothing I looked into would have put me in that direction.” 

“You felt guilty?” Dean asked cautiously. Y/N shot him a dark look. 

“I told Sam you were dead and gone, then months later you come waltzing back into his life without a scratch on you, a chip on your shoulder and a bad attitude… when I’m gone, no less… and I’m not supposed to feel guilty?” Y/N asked condescendingly.  

“Where were you anyway?” Dean asked. Y/N shook her head. 

“Got a call about a hunt a state away. Ghost attached to a journal someone had kept as a keepsake. Wasn’t going to take it for obvious reasons, but Sam insisted I go and take care of it since we were closest,” Y/N explained. She frowned, her eyes dropping. “Three people had already died. Was a quick and easy job.” 

“Did you get it?” Dean asked. Y/N gave him another look. Dean raised his hand in surrender. 

“When Sam told me you were back, I told him he had to explain the epilepsy to you. He needed to do it right away,” she continued. She shook her head with an angry smile on her lips. “Of course, he said it wasn’t the right time, you were angry, and he couldn’t bother you with his issues. His focus shouldn’t have been on your needs, but we both know that’s not how Sam operates.”

“Y/N, if I had known about everything before…” Dean started. 

“That’s the thing, Dean. You didn’t. You didn’t because you had a wild hair up your ass about Sam not looking for you. Didn’t matter why he didn’t look for you, just that he didn’t. And Sam wasn’t going to fight you on it,” Y/N bit out. Dean fell silent again. Y/N sat up and turned to face Dean, her eyes wet with tears and furious.

“And you know what? He isn’t even the one you should be fucking pissed at. If anything, I’m the one who said you were dead and gone. I’m the one who fucked up and couldn’t find you. He was in a God-damned coma. If anything, you should be pissed at me.”

Dean stared at Y/N’s face and felt her fury and pain. Now that he knew what really happened, he understood why she reacted the way she did at the hospital… both when she didn’t know he was watching and when he showed up late and furious. Y/N shook her head and leaned back into the chair and sniffled. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Dean muttered. 

“Sam wore your tie at our courthouse wedding. And your socks,” she said quietly. Dean watched as Y/N pulled out her phone and scrolled through it. She found what she was looking for and handed her phone over to him. The photo was of the two of them in front of a judge. Sam was dressed in his FBI suit, wearing Dean’s red tie. It was clearly too short for him, but the sentiment meant more to him than anything else. Y/N was beautiful in a lovely white sundress, her hair down over her shoulders. 

“He asked me if it would be okay if he wore your ring as his wedding band,” she explained, causing Dean to look up at her in surprise. “The silver one you used to wear all the time. At least that’s what he said. If you scroll through the photos, you’ll see it.” 

Dean scrolled through the photos and spotted the photo she was talking about. The two of them were kissing and their hands were close to the camera. Y/N was wearing a thin silver band on her finger and there – on Sam’s finger – was Dean’s ring. He stared at the photo with tears filling his eyes. 

“I wish I could have been there,” he whispered.

“We wanted you there,” Y/N said just as quietly. “He really missed you. He’d sit outside and talk to the stars when we thought you were in Heaven. He prayed to you and Castiel every night.” Dean looked up at her with a broken expression. Y/N stared at him for a long moment, then gave him a small smile.

“There’s a lot of anger between us, but I think we can work that out in time,” she started. “What I need you to realize is how much Sam still needs you. He missed you so much, and he still needs his big brother… I’m not taking him away from you, Dean. If anything, he needs you more now than he ever needed you.”  

It was another hour before Y/N and Dean made their way back to the hotel room. They entered quietly, uncertain if Sam was awake or asleep. Sam was sitting up in the bed, watching some brainless television and waiting on them. 

“Hey,” he said warily, watching them come in. “You two okay?” Y/N smiled as she walked over to him, placing a gentle kiss on his mouth. 

“We will be. How are you? You hungry?” she asked. Sam shrugged, smiling at her. 

“I could eat,” he answered, his hand slipping under the sweatshirt and gripping her waist gently. Y/N nodded, looking over her shoulder at Dean. 

“What about you? Hungry for dinner?” 

“I’m always hungry. What are you thinking? Pizza or Chinese?” Dean asked, pulling out his phone. Y/N turned to look at Sam, who shrugged. 

“Pizza?” he asked. Y/N nodded. 

“Sounds like a plan. You order, I’m gonna grab a shower,” Y/N said. She went to her bag and grabbed her toiletries and a change of clothes before slipping into the shower. A quick 20 minutes later, she walked out of the bathroom with wet hair and in warm pajamas to find Sam and Dean laying on the same bed together, fast asleep. The smile that came to her face was sweet and genuine. 

Moving quickly, she dropped her things in her bag and snagged her phone, snapping a photo of the brothers together. Just then, someone knocked at the door. She moved to answer it with a glance at the boys, who were not moving on the bed. Accepting the pizza, she set it on the table, pulled a slice out, and started to eat it while watching the brother’s nap.  

Well, she thought, maybe we’ll get through this yet.

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“Shut the fuck up, Winchester. Or you won’t make your visit.”

“Quiet it is.” Sam’s grin still on his face. Yeah, it was going to be a good day.

You sat anxiously at the table the guard had guided you to. You glanced around at others in the midst of their visits. A prisoner walked in, a visibly broken nose, a black eye still lingering and the woman at the table closest to you gasped as she stood. From what you heard of their conversation, he’d gotten in a fight with an inmate a week and a half ago. He didn’t want to name the person, but eventually you heard the slightest whisper of ‘Winchester’.

Suddenly you were worried about Sam. Would he come out looking just as beat up? He could hold his own, you knew exactly who he was, you didn’t delude yourself on why he was where he was. He was brutal, cold, a killer. They didn’t even know exactly how many people he killed, really. Or why. But prison was prison, it was unpredictable despite the predictability of the prisoners' days.

Someone new entered, and you glanced over to see him. He loomed over the guard who was uncuffing him, speaking to him though Sam’s eyes were locked on you. He’d just nod in response as you stood up from your seat. He didn’t have a scratch on him. His beautiful face looked completely untouched, and when you glanced over to the other table, you saw how the man glanced back and physically paled at the sight of Sam being brought closer.

You looked to Sam once more, openly staring up at him as he stopped next to the table. He was massive. He towered impossibly tall over you and you were in awe of the sheer size of him. He didn’t speak, didn’t say hi, didn’t greet you in any way, he just motioned to the table and then sat down himself.

“Right, sorry.” you chuckled awkwardly before taking your seat again.

“You seem surprised.”

Your eyes shot to meet his at his words. His voice was smooth as silk and you wanted to hear it again, wanted to hear him whispering all the filthy dirty things his twisted mind could come up with into your ear. “I guess you don’t realize just how big 6’4 really is until it’s towering over you.” you smiled shyly at him. “I’m glad I was able to find out.”

“Oh, I’ve been a very good boy this week.” Sam sat back comfortably, his eyes roaming you, from your hands clutched on the table all the way up to your eyes again.

“I’m glad.” his gaze on you made you avert your eyes again. The attraction to him was strong, you couldn’t deny that. You felt something for him in the letters but having him here, right in front of you.. You hoped he was able to get visitors more often. You wanted to keep coming, keep seeing him. But the way he looked at you, the way those deep hazel eyes bore into you like he could see past everything and into your very soul and he wanted to devour it, it had you feeling meek and submissive. Like all he had to do was think something and you’d figure it out and do it. He was dangerous, no doubt about it.

“You seemed more confident in your letters.” Panic hit at his words. Was he disappointed in you? You looked at him again, afraid that he was, but you couldn’t read him.

“I- I have a drink or two while I write..” you admitted, chewing on your lip. “You know, liquid courage.”

“Yeah?” You nodded. “That all you do?” You saw the knowing smirk hit his face as you looked away embarrassed. “Really?” He groaned, shifting in his seat again. “How about next time, you wipe those fingers of yours on my letter. Let me smell you.”

Sam was licking his lips when you looked up, and you couldn’t do more than nod to him. A silent promise to do as told. Honestly, if he asked you to, you’d put your hand in your pants right now and give him a damn taste. He was getting to you in the worst way, and you could feel your panties dampening further the longer he sat across from you.

Sam suddenly sat forward, elbows on the table as his head tilted a little to the right. “You writing to anyone else? Other than me?”

You licked your lips and swallowed before answering. “I- Yeah. I have a few penpals..” The look in his eyes changed, a flash of something. He didn’t like that answer, you could feel it. “You’re the one I write to most frequently. The only one I keep up with like I do and the only one I’ve visited. I don’t write to anyone like I write to you, I promise.” You needed his approval back. You couldn’t explain it, you just did.

Truth be told, you’d been writing to prisoners for years. There was something about them, about the power and energy they seemed to have that got you off like no one else could. But they all came and went, some not lasting more than a letter or two, others just getting forgotten over time or on release.  But Sam Winchester, he was never getting out. And everyone was afraid of him. You were afraid of him. Afraid of what he could do to you.

“Hm.” he hummed. You caught his arm shifting in your peripheral, and when you glanced towards the movement, you saw something in his hand. Your eyes shot up to meet his in fear as a sinister smile stretched his lips.

Before you could fully register what was happening, he lunged from his seat to the table next to you and the man he’d gotten into a fight with a week and a half ago. A large hand grabbed the man by the forehead and pulled it back, exposing his neck. You flinched when Sam stabbed the shiv through his throat and the woman screamed as blood began to pour when he yanked it back out.

Sam’s eyes were on you the whole time, watching every microscopic reaction you had to what he’d just done as he shoved the body aside. Your breathing had picked up, your thighs pressed tight together. The shiv fell to the floor and his blood soaked hands went up, eyes still on you as guards rushed him, slamming his body against the table making you jump back and out of your seat.

Someone grabbed your upper arm, forcing you to take a step back as more guards rushed in to round up prisoners and rush out the families.

“You write to just me now.” Sam growled as he was hoisted up. “You’re mine. You understand me?” They started leading him off, tugging you away. “You’re fucking mine.” As you watched him be led out, one thing was unmistakable. His prison uniform did nothing to hide just how hard that show of power over you had made him.

Once you were out of the visitors area, the guard who’d ushered you out made sure you were okay. “Yeah.. I’m fine thank you. Just need a cold shower.” you gave the guard a small thankful smile before slowly making your way out on weak knees.

The guard shook his head. “Fucking prison groupies..”

You didn’t write to him, you weren’t sure if he would get the letters after what he’d done. You figured you’d wait for him to write to you and go from there. You dreamed of him though, often. Dreamed of him naked and covered in blood, that look in his eyes when he watched you. Dreamed of him killing people, sometimes even of how he’d kill you, how easily he could do it.

Two weeks later, your phone rang. You were shocked when the automated voice informed you of where the call was coming from. You didn’t even hesitate to say “Accept.”

It was quiet for a moment, but then you heard that silky smooth voice. “Who you writing to, sweetheart?”

“Just you. It’s only you.”

“Good girl.”

“I can’t believe you called me, Sam.”

“Why wouldn’t I want to talk to my favorite girl?”

You melted at that, but also felt a mild pang of jealousy. “Your favorite? Are there others?”

“That depends on your answer. What are you wearing?”

“I can be in nothing in a heartbeat.”

Sam chuckled at that and your eyes fluttered shut at the sound. “My good little girl. I can’t wait to see you again.”

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