#thisisntachickflick

You what? Dee! Are you serious? Do you know how expensive those are? You could've told me! Unlike you, I understand how laundry works, I could've taken care of it.

They had been standing outside for awhile. Sam glanced at the alarm clock on the night stand. Fifteen minutes. Longer than usual. They were out of the motel window's range of vision, and he couldn't hear them either, until he turned the television off and crept towards the door. The sound slowly floated in- Deanna's voice, rising with emotion and a rough, deep voice he didn't recognize that seemed to be plowing through Dee's quick words. Suddenly the volume rose, and Sam didn't need to be standing by the door to hear the argument. As quickly as it increased, his sister's voice dropped out completely, leaving only the male's aggressive tone to pierce the air. 

Sam didn't like where this was going.

He took a deep breath, hesitating with his hand on the doorknob before pulling the door open and stepping outside. Deanna was standing with her hand in her hair, shaking her head. And there was the mystery man himself, a relatively sturdy twenty one year old- a year older than Deanna, although he and Sam were nearly matched in height- wearing a t-shirt, jeans, and a silver cross around his neck. "Dee- are you okay?" Sam asked, glancing at the two of them. 

Deanna didn't look up at Sam, instead waving him away and saying in a set voice, "Sammy, just go inside."

The guy raised his eyebrows, drawling with unmerited condescension, "Who's this? Another addition to your warm, white trash family?"

The words hit him like an iron fist in his gut. Who the hell was this guy? Sam saw Deanna stiffen, but she didn't open her mouth. What was going on? Where was the Dee he knew, who wouldn't hesitate to start hooking at anyone who insulted her family?

Suddenly, he understood. A hot anger began to boil in his stomach. He wasn't just going to stand by and watch. No. He stepped forward, asking, "What did you say?"

The man snickered, looking Sam up and down with obvious contempt. "I said you and your whore sister are white. Trash."

The heat rose to his chest. "Don't you dare talk about her like that," Sam growled, his fists clenching as he stepped in front of Deanna.

"Sam-" Deanna warned, grabbing his shoulder.

"What?" The man asked, cutting her off, "Are you going to set your baby brother on me? Grow up, kiddies, and get back to the trailer park."

"Don't you fucking talk about her like that," Sam said, the heat entering his head as he pulled his clenched fist back and swung. The punch landed squarely, hitting the guy on his cheekbone with a loud smack. He stumbled back, letting out a stream of curses as he felt at his face. Sam moved forward, kneeing him in the stomach and elbowing the other side of his face when he doubled over. "Now leave, asshole," Sam spat as he slowed his breathing. The guy gave him and Dee a filthy look, spitting a small amount of blood by Sam's feet before sulking away.

He was fourteen. It was August, boiling hot and with the air conditioning in the Impala broken tempers were running high. They were pulled over at a gas station, and while John was refueling Sam and Deanna were picking around the convenience store. Dee had pulled two waters out of the fridge, but Sam had spotted the Icee machine and was hitting her arm, pestering her for a slushie. "Sam, no," Deanna snapped, pushing his hand away, "Stop being a brat."

Sam scowled, the taboo words slipping out scornfully. "What are you, on your period?"

Immediately Dee whipped around, pointing her finger in Sam's face. "No, I'm not. And if you ever ask me that again I will skin you and leave your organs to a Wendigo."

Sam didn't glance up from her laptop where she was clicking away, reading the screen intently yet.  She waited about thirty seconds, finishing a paragraph and then giving Deanna a slight smile.  "Hey," she greeted.  "So, since Kevin doesn't seem to have any new stuff on closing the Gates, I think I might've found us a hunt."

...is now following.