Why would Sammy lock the door? He knew I was coming back.
After a minute of searching, Dean triumphantly pulled his key out of his pocket, a few loose receipts floating to the ground with the action.
He was on the other side of the door, setting down his prize and drink in the next moment, ears perking as he heard a strained groan float through the darkness.
Dean wasted no time in re-locking the door before flicking on the light, “Sammy? Everything okay?”
The blonde blinked his eyes as the room flooded with light, brows furrowing as he didn’t find his brother.
Where…? His question cut off as he saw the closed bathroom door. He shook his head and took off his jacket, barely getting it onto the hanger before hearing another groan.
Dean wasted no time in making his way over to the bathroom door. He didn’t even need to press his ear to it to hear more pained moaning.
The shot rang out through the empty room a moment later, Sam’s chest heaving with anger. He blinked at the bullet hole that was now adorning the right wall of his bedroom. He turned in a small circle, relief slumping into his shoulders at the devil being nowhere in sight.
Sam nodded to himself before taking a seat on his bed, running his free hand through his hair, finally. He closed his eyes and revelled in the short-lived moment of silence, barely registering the heavy footsteps that were pounding up the stairs.
A breathless Gabriel was sliding into the doorway in the next instant, wild eyes searching the room, “Sammich?”
He walked a few steps into the room, confusion furrowing his brows as he saw it was empty, “Are you alright? I thought I heard…”
The ex-hunter opened his eyes as his boyfriend’s voice trailed off. He was staring at the gun in his hand.
Sam swallowed guiltily before placing it down on the mattress beside him, “I-I know. But I kept it just for emergencies! We-” Sam’s explanation died on his lips as he saw the look on his lover’s face. He hung his head, “I had to.”
“Why?”
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Important: This is the last story of 2024! I’ll be taking the last half of December and first half of January off from posting. I’ll be back January 17th, 2025 with the first story of the new year!
Written: 23.12.23
Words: 726
Wee!Chesters, 2024’s 2nd Christmas story
“Uh, Sammy?” Dean’s brows furrowed together as he carefully took a mason jar out of the motel freezer. He turned around, bringing his eyes up to the bed, “What’s this?”
Sammy’s eyes went wide and he shot off the bed, running toward his brother with his arms outstretched, “Be careful with that!”
“Whoa,” Dean stopped the little tornado with a soft hand to his chest. He raised an eyebrow as he held the jar above his head, “You wanna fill me in?”
Sammy huffed at that, as he shot the eldest a pointed look, “It’s Terry.”
“Terry?” The blonde’s face scrunched, “Who the heck is-” He cut himself off as he remembered the name, “Your snowman?” At the nod, he couldn’t help but look between his brother and the jar, “Okaaay… and why did you put him in the freezer?”
“They were plowing the parking lot!”
“Oh, yeah, of course. How stupid of me.”
Sammy huffed at his brother’s sarcastic tone and rolled his eyes again, making a grab for the jar, “I couldn’t let them kill him!”
Dean couldn’t stop himself from chuckling at that, “What?”
“They would’ve completely destroyed him.” Sammy shook his head and lowered his eyes to the ground, “I couldn’t let that happen.”
At the sudden serious shift, Dean raised an eyebrow, “You do know he’s just a snowman, right? He’s not real?”
“I know!” He stomped his foot in agitation and brought his eyes back to his brother’s face. After a moment of searching, he sighed, “Just forget it.” He turned around, heading back over to the bed, “It doesn’t matter.”
“Whoa, hey,” Dean took a couple steps after him, “You just… don’t care anymore?”
At the sullen shrug, Dean sighed, why does he have to be such a…child about things? He scrubbed his free hand down his face as he stared at the jar, what’s the point of saving a bunch of frozen water? It’s not like he could’ve thought it’d last long. Dad’s gonna be back tonight and then-
The blonde cut off his train of thought as the idea hit him like a lightening bolt. His head whipped up to stare at his now-depressed brother, who was hunched over on their shared bed, no… Dean swallowed thickly, no. There’s no way…
He forced himself to take in a deep breath before making his way over to the bed. He cleared his throat and tried to swallow down the lump as he saw what his brother was holding, “W-whatcha reading, there?”
The youngest sighed at that – the kind of sigh one let’s out when they realize they’re out of options – and slowly turned to face his brother, revealing the book that was sitting open on his lap.
Dean felt his blood run cold as he saw it was their Dad’s journal. He quickly snatched it out of his lap, “Where did you get this?”
“It was under our pillow.”
Dean closed his eyes, feeling like a knife stabbed his heart as he heard his brother’s monotone voice, no. Not yet… he’s too small. “Y-you shouldn’t have this.”
“I’m not stupid, Dean.” At the nearly snapping of the blonde’s neck at the sentence as he turned back around, Sammy shrugged, “Dad comes in covered in blood all the time…”
“B-but-”
“I figured out a while ago he was killing things,” Sammy shook his head, eyes drifting to the jar that was still in the eldest’s hand, “I just wanted to save something for once.”
Dean open and closed his mouth a few times, searching for the right words. But what could he say? His brother could never un-know what he’d learned… maybe it was selfish of him to want to keep it from him – he’d never gotten a chance to be a child, so he’d wanted Sammy to have that chance.
Dean stared down at the jar in his hands, boring holes into the two lumps of coal that were packed against the side. It only took him a moment longer of staring before he finally made his way back over to the freezer. He gently placed the jar back in it and nodded to himself, good.
He felt his brother’s questioning look before he even turned away from the freezer. Once their eyes connected, he plastered a smirk onto his face, “What? I like Terry.”
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I hope you all have a great holiday season if you celebrate, and if you don’t, I hope you still find time to relax and reset before diving into 2025.
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Dean paused, hand resting on the knob of the motel door. He hung his head and let out a sigh, “I know.”
“But then… why?”
The confusion in the question got him to turn back around. He hadn’t quite steeled himself against the huge puppy dog eyes his younger brother was beaming at him. He forced himself to take in a breath and walked the few steps back toward the bed, “I don’t want you to get in trouble.”
“But Dad’s gonna be so mad.” Sammy couldn’t help but twist his fist into the blanket he was clutching to his chest at the thought, his giant eyes not leaving his brother’s face, “If you take the blame…”
“It’ll be okay, Sammy.” Dean forced the corner of his mouth to turn up into a smile as he reached out, ruffling his brother’s hair, “I can take it. Besides, Dad’ll be so tired from work, he probably won’t even notice.”
“But I-” The younger brother cut himself off as the motel door opened.
Dean didn’t miss the way he tried to back himself up, despite already being pressed against the headboard, and stood from the bed, turning his attention to their father.
John took a few shuffled steps into the room – just far enough for the door to swing closed behind him – before he pitched forward, looking ready to collapse into the carpet.
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Sam forced himself to turn his gaze to the floor, off his brother’s face. He knew he wouldn’t understand, that he was sick of dealing with this – hell, Sam was sick of seeing him – but not talking about his hallucination wasn’t working anymore. He had to tell someone he trusted.
And there was no one he trusted more than his brother.
He couldn’t keep pretending everything was fine. He had been standing on the precipice of going off the deep end for months, and he just… couldn’t do it anymore. Not alone.
So yes, even though he knew it hurt, he had to say something.
But he wasn’t prepared for the look on his brother’s face.
It was a look he’d become all too familiar with. The same look he gave him when he left for Stanford, the same one he got when he chose Ruby… that heartbreaking mix of shock, sadness and utter disappointment.
The ‘I don’t even know who you are anymore’ look.
No matter how old he got, or how much shit they’d gone through, that look always managed to whither the giant. It was like he was suddenly five years old again, getting caught stealing the last cookie.
“I…”
Sam closed his eyes, not daring to look up from the floor. The trailed off sigh hit him right in the heart, “D-don’t…” Sam took in a shuddering breath and held up one of his hands, “you don’t need to say anything. I just thought you should know.”
An incredulous chuckle escaped the blonde then, and he heard the rustling of his sweater fabric as he ran a hand through his hair, “Oh gee, you think? Jesus, Sam…”
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Request #17 (From Holister262 [DA]): Can I have a SamxGabriel? Sad Gabe in need of a big, deep cry and hug, but he doesn’t know he needs it. But Sam does, so he finds him and forces a hug/cry session.
Requested: 15.03.08
Originally Started: 15.03.08
Rewrite Started: 24.02.09
Finished: 24.08.06
Words: 533
Sabriel (Implied), Dark-ish, Request #17
Gabriel watched as the coffee cup slipped out of his hands, almost as if in slow motion. The cup shattered once it touched the ground, shards of glass and boiling hot liquid exploding out across the floor. He could do nothing but watch – almost as if frozen to the spot – as the liquid quickly soaked into his socks.
He let out a defeated sigh before scanning the room for the broom. It was nowhere in sight.
Of course.
He felt tears prick at the edges of his eyes as he bent down to start picking up the broken pieces. He didn’t know what his problem was, but he’d been doing dumb stuff like this for the last couple weeks. Locking his keys in his car, burning dinner because he forgot it was in the oven, accidentally wearing his pants inside out, dropping spoons… if he didn’t know any better, he’d think he had been cursed.
Unfortunately, he did know better – he wasn’t cursed in the traditional sense – he’d been bitten by the love bug, and now seemed he was paying the price.
Being human was hard.
How Sam and Dean managed to not only not kill themselves daily, but also actually manage to fight evil and save people? Seemed like an impossible task for the newly initiated to the Human Club.
Most days Gabriel forgot to breathe.
There’s just too many things to remember about being human. Food, defecating, being too hot, being too cold, sleep… it never ends!
“Hey, Ga-”
The sound of Sam’s cut off greeting made the newly ex-angel look up, not bothering to hide the tears that were tracing their way down his face.
Sam blinked slowly for a moment and took a cautious step forward, concern etching itself across his face, “What happened?”
Gabriel let out a loud sniff and held up the bits of broken glass he had gathered, “I dropped another one!”
The giant nodded his head slowly before leaving the room. He reappeared in the doorway holding the broom and a couple towels. He wasted no time inching his way toward his lover, using the towels as stepping stones so he wouldn’t burn his feet. Gabriel watched in absentminded awe, I never would’ve thought of that.
Sam had reached him in the next minute and gently took the broken glass out of his hands, “Here.” He placed them down onto the counter before stretching over, ripping a few paper towels off and offering them to him. At the confused look he was given, Sam nodded to his hands, “You’re bleeding.”
Gabriel looked down, surprised to see red liquid running down his palms, “Oh.” He pressed the paper towels into the wounds, hissing at the contact, “Ow!” Gabriel felt fresh tears prick his eyes and he shook his head, “Why does everything about being human hurt?”
Sam frowned at that before closing the distance, wrapping his lover up in a giant bear hug. He squished his face into his hair, feeling Gabriel’s body collapse into him and tears start to soak into his shirt. Sam pressed a kiss to the top of his head and squeezed him harder, “It just takes time.”
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Dean’s yell instinctively made the giant duck, which was the right call as a shotgun blast exploded over the space his head just was.
His wild eyes were scanning the room for his brother before the shrapnel finished falling. He spotted the blonde running toward him from the hallway, brows furrowed with concentration and anger as he hastily refilled his gun.
“Aw, see? Told you he’d come.”
Lucifer’s voice brought the giant’s attention to the back wall once again, brain scrambling to make sense of the monster brains that were splattered across the floor.
Sam straightened up cautiously, “I-it was real?”
Lucifer cocked his head to one side and raised an eyebrow, “You thought I’d sick an imaginary monster on you?”
“Hey!”
His brother’s hand clasping his shoulder made him jump, but he didn’t dare let his eyes off the devil.
If it was real, that means that he… Sam swallowed thickly and started shaking his head, “Y-you can’t be-”
“Are you deaf?” The rough tug on his chin finally got his eyes on his older brother, “We need to go, now!”
Sam opened his mouth to rebuttal, or ask a question – something – but no sound came out. Watching his brother start back toward the door was all the incentive the giant needed to follow suit.
It took all the strength he had not to look back over his shoulder.
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Sam rolled his eyes as he handed the steaks off to his brother, “I’m only 5 minutes late, Dean.”
“Yeah, well, it might as well be an hour,” The blonde shook his head, fiddling with the barbeque dial, “You know how old this thing is. It doesn’t hold heat correctly.”
The giant shook his head, grabbing a beer from the cooler, “Why didn’t one of us get him a new one for his wedding, again?”
“Because Bobby wouldn’t use it.” He kicked the side of the grill, holding one hand above the grill to check the temperature, “Not until this one finally dies.”
The youngest leaned in, peering over his brother’s shoulder at the dark grill, “…You sure it’s not already dead?”
“Don’t think so.” The blonde turned the dial again, practically willing the grill to heat up, “Maybe we could just order steaks.”
Sam scoffed, “How are we supposed to do that without Bobby noticing?”
Dean’s eyes flicked up to where his kids and father figure were playing – chasing each other around one of the junk cars a few feet away. He slapped one of the steaks onto the grill, shoulders deflating in disappointment as it made no noise.
He brought his eyes back to his brother, lowering his voice, “Make the call on the front porch. Don’t let anyone see you.”
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“No, Sam.” The blonde held up a hand and shook his head, “This isn’t what I signed up for.”
Sam scoffed and took a step closer, raising an eyebrow, “So you’re gonna leave? You’re just gonna let these people die?”
“It’s not my problem!” Dean brought his hands up in mock surrender, car keys dangling from his fingers, “You can take care of it.”
“Not alone!”
“Yes, Sammy, alone.” The blonde paused as he turned back to the motel door, “You’ve been hunting solo for years now. Since when can the great Sam Winchester not take on a rogue angel?”
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is the point, Sam? Huh?” Dean spun back away from the door, gesturing vaguely, “Why do you need my help so badly on this case?”
Dean chuckled as his twin’s voices floated through the line, “Aw, thanks guys.”
“Are you and Dad having fun?”
“O-oh, yeah.” Dean subconsciously straightened and puffed out his chest, “Tons of fun.”
“Do you miss us?”
“Of course they don’t miss us! They’re celebrating.”
“Oh… Is the bed bouncy?”
Dean chuckled again and nodded, “Oh, it’s bouncy alright. You guys would hit the ceiling if you were here.”
“Aw man!”
“Can we come now?”
“Yeah! We could take the bus, or ask Uncle Sam to-”
The end of Tyler’s sentence got cut off with some rustling, before he heard faint giggling and hurried footsteps, “What are you guys still doing up? Get back to bed!” There was a moment of silence, before a hesitate-sounding Sam picked up the phone, “Hello…?”
“Relax, it’s just me.”
“Oh, thank God.” He could practically see his brother’s relief through the phone, “I swear, I had them in bed on time! I don’t know how I missed them getting up.”
“It’s fine, Sam. Not like they know anyone else’s number.”
“Yeah, I guess. Anyway, sorry man, I’ll let you get back to-”
“Wait!” Dean blinked in surprise at himself as he cut off his brother. He took a moment to compose himself and crossed his arms over his chest, “I-I mean, while you’re here, tell me how the night went. Any other trouble?”
“Nah, they were good. We ate dinner, watched a movie, then bed time. Nothing special.”
“Okay, good, that’s…. good. So,” Dean cleared his throat, “What uh, what’d you make for dinner?”
Sam let out a chuckle, “I know the social worker’s still on your case, but it’s fine, man. I can tell you when you get back. I don’t want to interrupt your anniversary.”
“You’re not! I mean… Cas is in the bath, so I can chat for a bit.”
“… You’re not with him?”
“The tubs here are really small.”
“Dean…”
“Okay, fine. Cas is…. not here.”
“What did you do?”
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