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Psychics, Soulmates & Destiny

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The Ancient Greeks believed the gods had split human souls in half and placed them into separate bodies. So mortals were forced to wander through their lives, enduring trials to find their other half. Their Soulmate. There were many kinds: Twin Flames, Soulmates, and Kindred Spirits.
Bronwyn Evans liked the notion of soulmates, but had very little reason to believe in them. Not that she didn’t want to believe. Much like her association with religion, she acknowledged the possibility and desire for its existence, all while holding doubt considering lack of evidence. She supposed love could be in her future, but if high school was any indication, it was hopeless.

It wasn’t like she was unpleasant to look at. She always liked her blue-green eyes. Her aunt often complimented her on them. Soft facial features. Her auburn hair, cherry wood in hue, was something she was content with, barring its tendency to frizz out. The only thing she wished she could have changed, was her pale complexion. No matter how much sunscreen she would use, within half an hour in the sun, she resembled a tomato.

Bronwyn, or Wyn, as she preferred, was empirical. She enjoyed school for the most part and excelled notably. Although, the part she didn’t enjoy was the other students. Obviously it made things challenging. Like many teenagers, her social anxiety made speaking in front of class an unpalatable collection of nausea, sweating, heart racing and lightheadedness. Today, Bronwyn would learn that public attention was not the only trigger for these sensations.

 

She started her late September day like normal. A month into the fall semester of her Senior Year. Senioritis hadn’t hit her quite as hard as her classmates, but she probably could have stopped trying in class and been fine. When she got her early acceptance letter, she accepted without hesitation. She finished up the last of some homework while her Aunt Stacy busied herself in the kitchen, before finally wolfing down her breakfast and rushed towards the door.

“Ah, Ah, Ah,” Aunt Stacy called out and the teen halted her speed walk. She was hoping to avoid this. “What do we do before we leave this house?”

Her Aunt Stacy was a kind, yet particular woman. In her early forties, her tired eyes indicated her lifelong career as a Nurse. She often worked long hard hours at the hospital, but it was work she had taken to like a duck to water. Having cared for her niece on her own from infancy, she was the prime example of a hard working strong woman. Wyn had always admired that about her. And her aunt was religious. VERY religious. Not the type of woman who judged and looked down on other people, but what Christianity is supposed to be about. Full of humility, love towards others, doing charity work in her spare time, and she had raised Wyn in that life.

 

The teenager wasn’t a fan of her aunts required morning ritual. Wyn didn’t respond directly she simply gave her aunt what she wanted,

“Dear Heavenly Father, watch over and protect me as I go forth into this sinful and chaotic world. Guide me by your hand, Amen.”

“Hey,” Her aunt sighed gently, “I know you think you’re too old for this. But Wyn,” she stepped forward taking her nieces’ face gently in her hands, “There are evil things in this world. Faith in God is the only defense we have against the Devil,” Wyn resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “l want you to be safe. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.”

“I know…”

“I love you,” Aunt Stacy grabbed the bag lunch that Wyn had definitely forgotten about, and kissed her cheek, “Have a good day at school.”

“Love you, too,” she smiled softly before heading out the front door.

 

Wyn pushed open the heavy double doors that led directly into the main hallway, with a huff, making a beeline for her locker. At this point she was sure her day would be filled with the same monotony it had for the past few years at this school. No one ever talked to her. Except for Steve Gillis, the class stoner and that was only when he rolled into History blazed, and he would ask Wyn to fill him in on what his missed. She had been homeschooled by her aunt up until High School. Then, her aunt had decided that she was too introverted, and needed to actually try and make friends. Her first day of school hadn’t been that bad... Then the rumors spread:

 

Did you seen the new homeschool kid? I heard her aunt is crazy religious and wont let her talk to boys because she’s afraid she’ll be corrupted. - Not True.

 

I heard the new girl’s actually a Satanist. That she sacrifices animals and does cult ritual stuff. - Not True.

 

Did you hear her dad’s locked up in the nuthouse? A fire burned down their house and killed her mom. The dad said it was a demon. - Unfortunately, True.

 

Christmas Eve when Wyn was 6 months old, their house caught fire. Her aunt didn’t like to talk about it, but she knew enough. Her father had managed to get her out of the house, but it was too late for her mother. At first, the fire department thought it started as a Christmas Tree fire, but they had been able to narrow it down to Bronwyn’s nursery. Faulty wiring they said. As soon as her father started raving about how a demon had burned his wife alive pinned on the ceiling, his mental health rapidly declined. By the time Bronwyn was a year old, the state had placed her in the custody of her aunt who lived in Oregon, and her Dad had been institutionalized in the Kansas State Mental Hospital.

So needless to say, Bronwyn’s classmates did what typical teenagers did and shunned those that were different. Freaks. But it didn’t matter to her much. At least they simply ignored her. That could not be said for everyone.

 

“Hey, Fag!” The official school douche bag, Mike Thompson, had chosen someone just as awkward as Wyn as his personal punching bag. David Walker. She had tried to report the bullying anonymously, then told the teacher she most trusted, then went straight to the principal, but nothing was done.

“Leave me alone Mike,” The young man's voice was shaky and soft. he knew that his words would hardly dissuade the bully.

“You finish that History paper for me?”

With no choice but to overhear, she fumed quietly, closing her eyes. Mike deserved a swift kick in the ass.

“...No.”

Wyn and several other students quickly turned their full attention to the pair. This was the first time David was actually standing up to him. She closed her locker carefully, but didn’t walk away. She had a feeling this was going to escalate fast.

“What did you say?” Mike’s tone suddenly darker.

“I s-said… No. I-I'm not gonna let you walk all over me anymore!”

Mikes face split into a sinister smile, “Oh really?” The sudden sound of a fist colliding with David’s jaw made Wyn cringe in empathy.

“HEY ASSHOLE!”

All attention shot towards the commanding voice, and Sam Winchester rushed forward putting himself between Mike and David, who held his jaw kneeling on the floor. The change in hallway was instantly felt by everyone. Wyn guessed that if her classmates thought she was a freak, then they certainly thought so of the new guy. He had started just over a week ago. Wyn had a couple classes with him, and more rumors had spread about him than any other student at Eagle Point High.

Mike, taken aback that someone actually had the audacity to step up, looked Sam up and down.

“Leave him alone,” Sam’s voice carried an air that sent shivers down Wyn's body. There was something about this guy that she couldn’t put her finger on.

“What are gonna you do about it… freak ?” Mike pushed himself into Sam’s personal bubble, their faces close. To her surprise Sam didn’t back down at all. In fact, he straightened himself.

“Back off,” the warning evident in his voice.

It all happened in the blink of an eye. Mike pushed Sam with his tough guy bravado, and attempted to swing a punch, but Sam dodged quickly. Then, there was a sickening crunch, and Mike Thompson was on the ground clutching his face, blood pouring from his nose, blubbering like a baby.

“You broke my nose!!! Oh God it hurts!”

“WINCHESTER!”

The voice of the principal made most of the students feel the sudden urge to get to class as quickly as possible. The tall intimidating man with fire in his eyes, parted the crowd light sharp wind cutting through fog.

“MY OFFICE NOW! Thompson get yourself to the nurse.” With that Mike scurried off. David had finally returned to his feet, clutching his bag to his chest.

“But, but —“ David tried to utter out an explanation as the man rushed towards the small group of students.

“Not now David. Get to class,” the principal grabbed Sam roughly by the arm and started to lead him down the hall.

“He didn’t do anything wrong!”

Those remaining in the hall were just as surprised as Wyn when her voice pierced the tension, and defended Sam. Everyone stared, principal included. The familiar feeling of anxiety started to creep up from her stomach and her chest tightened. She quickly averted her eyes downward. Not knowing how the words came to her she continued,

“Mike was being a dick—umm jerk. Bullying David… Sam was trying to stop it…”

The auburn haired teen was certain her face was the color of tomato, but she stood her ground. The principal looked at David whose eyes were darting back and forth like a frightened animal, then to Wyn who managed to gather the courage to look the man in the eyes, then Sam who was perfectly still his expression giving nothing away. He released Sams arm before demanding all three students to follow him.

Cautiously, the young introvert, let out a shaky breath while holding onto the straps of her bag. When she looked up her gaze was met with Sam Winchester’s hazel stare. Like a shock she became overwhelmed with familiar feeling of sweaty palms, racing heart and lightheadedness with the surprising addition of electrical shiver all over her body.

Those eyes…

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The two sat outside the door, while Principal Snyder talked to David inside his office. Wyn mousily fidgeted in the chair closest to the door. Much to her surprise Sam chose to sit with only one chair between them, instead of at the end opposite her. Her knees bounced with nervous energy. Periodically, she could see in her periphery Sams head turning towards her, before lowering his shoulders and casting his gaze to the floor again.

“It’s Bronwyn right?”

The sudden break in silence made the young girl jump. She blinked rapidly, almost as if unsure he was talking to her, “Wyn,” she managed with a soft squeak.

“Wyn,” he smiled as her heart lept up into her throat, “we’re in Bio together right? And History?”

Bronwyn allowed a soft but genuine smile to appear, and nodded.

“Thanks, for, ya know--” Sam gestured to the office, “standing up for me.”

Before she could formulate a reply, the door swung open, and an uncomfortable looking David stepped out with Principal Snyder close behind him.

“Go to the nurse, have your jaw looked at David. Miss Evans,” he looked down at her with his usual level of condescension, “if you please.” Then guestured inside. She stood to follow him, but stole a quick moment to glance at Sam. An unusual element of courage flourished within her at the hazel eyed gaze directed at her.

“So,” he took his seat behind the desk while she took her place in front of his desk, “you saw what happened?”

“Yes, sir…”

“Would you like to share?” Her heart began to race again, having nothing to do with the very attractive tall boy outside.

“I was at my locker and Mike came up to David asking about his History paper. David said he didn’t do it for him, and Mike punched him.” He simply nodded. “So, Sam stood up for him. Told him to leave David alone. Then Mike took a swing at Sam, so Sam hit him.”

“And how long has this been going on?”

She wasn’t sure what he was asking, “You mean the bullying?”

He nodded in affirmative.

“Since freshman year, at least. Not sure if it started earlier.”

“I find it odd no one said anything before.”

“I did,” she said rekindling the courage she had felt with Sam, “I reported it anonymously, and even came to you two years ago and you didn’t do anything then, because David was too scared to say anything. You can ask anyone. Mike is an asshole that has everyone in this school scared to say anything against him.”

The principal kept silent for a moment before smiling, which made Wyn even more uncomfortable. He never smiled, “Thank you for your honesty. Seems your story matches up with Davids… you’re free to go.” He pulled out a pad and jotted down a note with his signature, “Straight to class with you.”

Upon stepping outside, she managed to give Sam a confident smile and nodded before her nerves got the better of her, and she flitted down the hall.

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The cafeteria was filled with its usual bustle and noise, but today everyone was talking about the fight. Upon entering the large room, Wyn was surprised when almost everyone stopped and looked at her. She felt momentarily frozen before the students returned to their gossip. From the not-so-subtle looks she was receiving, Wyn quickly realized she was in part the subject of said gossip.

Without any further hesitation, she took her place at her usual table. A small four seat table at the far end of the cafeteria, that no else ever came near. Typically, no one paid any attention to her, but of course today was different. She felt the stares and heard the whispers. But it seemed she wasn’t the sole subject of gossip, because before long Sam walked through the cafeteria doors. People seemed to cover their intrigued looks and gossip a little better than when Wyn had first appeared. However, Sam didn’t even seem to notice anyone else when he spotted her across the room. Before she realized what was happening, Sam was standing in front of her.

“Mind if sit here?”

“Yeah, I mean, No - No it’s -- umm, have a seat…” She cursed internally. Why did she have to be so damn awkward?

“But, uh… You should know you’re sitting with the school freak,” she released a gentle sigh.

“I know what it’s like to feel like a freak.”

“Really?”

He laughed, and Wyn felt her heart start to race again. Seriously, did she have arrhythmia or...

“So I take it Snyder didn’t expel you?”

“Nope. Just detention after school. I think Mike’s gonna get suspended.”

Wyn scoffed, “Don’t hold your breath…”

Sam’s brow furrowed and he tilted his head confused, “What do you mean?”

“Mike Thompson is the schools golden boy. Captain of Varsity Lacrosse. His Dad’s some hot shot lawyer, and buys the school something new every time Mike messes up. They’ve been looking the other way for years now.”

Sam face was just like hers when she realized that no good deed got rewarded at this school, “That sucks.” And then shrugged.

“I just can’t wait to graduate, go to college, and never come back here,” she said with the despondent tone not withheld. Sam’s face shifted, but he quickly resumed his smile. The spark didn’t reach his eyes like it had before. Wyn already missed the feeling.

“Yeah, you have that to look forward to! Where’d you get accepted?”

 

Wyn never actually got to have real connection with someone. It was an odd sensation. The sudden addition of Sam fucking Winchester to her small little world was startling, but in the same way it was like suddenly everything was sharper, clearer. Just close proximity to him made her feel comfortable in her own skin, which was new. She allowed a small smile to stretch the corners of her mouth,

“I did early admissions. I’m going to University of Washington. They’ve got a phenomenal Neuroscience program!”
“Neuroscience?” Sam’s eyes lit up with curiosity, “Wow! That’s-wow, I never would've guessed that!”
She furrowed her brow, “Why not?” Suddenly feeling self conscious.

Sam’s eyes widen realizing his mistake, “No, not like that! I just mean every other senior is majoring in psychology or communications or whatever. It’s great you’re studying something so... I dunno... cool,” he finished with a smile, dimples slaying her ability to form a coherent sentence. A warm bubble of pride expanded in her chest, and her cheeks flushed. She took a long sip from her soda. Trying to move through the uncomfortable feeling of being complimented.

“What about you? Any college plans?”

“Oh...” Sam looked down unrolling the brown paper bag that held his unimpressive lunch, “I was accepted to Stanford... they offered me a full ride.”
“Holy Crap!” She couldn’t hide her astonishment. He got into an Ivy League? No one else in their class had gotten into an Ivy League. It seemed getting to know Sam Winchester was like peeling back an onions layers. “That’s amazing! You pick a major?”
It was Sam’s turn to try and hide his embarrassment, “I haven’t actually accepted yet,” he exhaled sharply through his nose, “I actually haven’t told anyone either. I can’t tell my dad, he’d freak.”
Her head reeled back in shock. Sam was obviously smart if he got into Stanford. Any normal parent would be over the moon at their kid getting in, let alone on a full academic scholarship. Wyn suddenly felt guilty for asking, emphatically able to read his physical cues. She had unintentionally touched a nerve, and felt an overwhelming need to make it right,

“Sorry... if it’s a touchy subject, we can-“
“Nah, it’s fine. I brought it up,” he shifted, before taking a quick bite of his turkey sandwich. His face softened, looked up and their eyes met again. “My family’s a little weird. My dad he, uh,” Sam scratched the back of his head nervously, “he wants me to follow the family business.”
“And it’s not for you,” she finished for him, understanding.
“I just want something different, something normal,” then he released everything like a tap turning on.

Sam started opening up, which Wyn could tell he wasn’t able to do a lot, if ever. Her life sounded far less dramatic when she heard how he had been to so many different schools that he stopped counting, how they never stayed in one place too long until one day his dad would be the one waiting with a packed car and no warning, how if he were able to go to Stanford he had thought about going into Pre-Law, how his older brother, Dean, was the only reason he could deal with his dad while at the same time being driven absolutely crazy by said brother, and on top of it all he had missed out on so much.

Apparently, his dad had promised they could stay put for a while since Dean was old enough to watch over Sam alone. So it looked like Sam might be able to actually finish his senior year here. Wyn couldn’t keep down the excitement itching its way out.
“Great!” She burst out, then immediately regretted the decision. Her eyes bulged and her cheeks burned, “Sorry, Hah...” She saw a blush creep onto his face too, but he couldn’t hide the smile that broke across his face.
“So you pick a partner for that AP Bio project yet?” Sam asked running his hands through the hair dangling in front of his eyes and pushed it back.
Damn he’s cute!
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Following lunch there were two more classes for the day. Wyn was delighted that now she could actually have someone she knew in class. Of course, she had seen Sam everyday for the past week, but she never allowed herself to stare too long. Afraid that someone would catch on.

But now, she found Sam was the one who kept staring. When she would glance to the desk next to her she was met with a dimpled smile and stunning eyes. To be honest, it was a feeling she could get use to. She couldn’t imagine why he would be staring. Maybe he was thankful to have someone on his side. Just from their initial conversation and the wild rumors, Sam really did seem to be in the same boat as her.

In AP Bio, David approached Sam before the class started and sheepishly thanked him for sticking up for him, then quickly made his way to his seat before Sam could say anything in response.

“He’s shy…” Wyn explained simply.

Their teacher, Ms. Teller, entered the room and promptly took attendance while asking each student if they had chosen their project partner for the semester. When Wyns name was called, she exchanged a smile with Sam, and informed her that she and Sam had agreed to be partners. All in all, each student had been paired up with the exception of David and a girl named Claire McCall. So they were paired up by default. It was a pretty good match. As the two of them hardly spoke to other students, but Wyn had noted they were both kind enough that they should be comfortable with each other.

By the time the bell rang, Wyn almost felt at home sitting next to Sam. And for the first time, Wyn was disappointed when the school day was over.

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Principal Snyder stepped out into the twilight evening. The school parking lot empty with the exception of a couple cars, his included. His cold gaze scanned the grounds before landing on the old janitor leaving the side doors, and started toward him.

Perfect.

“Good evening Greg!”

“You too, sir! Working late?”

“Oh, yeah. Principals work is never done! You all done for the night?”

“Yes sir, just about walk home.”

“Let me give you a ride. It’s on the way.”

The janitor seemed surprised at the offer, “Well, uh, sure! Thank you sir, very kind of you.”

Within a minute, the two were driving off down the road. A soft rock song played through the radio. Greg sang along softly, tapping his knee in time with the music. Snyder kept his eyes straight ahead. Silent. After a mile, the principal turned off the main road onto a dirt path. The janitor peered at him curiously.

“Where we going? My place is a little further down.”

“I need to make a call,” he placed the car in park and reached under his seat. Before the janitor could ask another question, in the blink of an eye, he clutched his throat as blood poured out. Snyder wiped his knife on the  pants of his victim, lifted the retrieved item, and held it against the fresh warm blood.

Greg shook and twitched, then the light in his eyes was gone. Withdrawing the sinister looking bowl, paying no more attention to the corpse in his passenger seat, Snyder whispered the magical incantation, his black eyes gleaming.

“Sir… you told me to alert you to any changes. Samuel Winchester and Bronwyn Evans have… had an encounter.”

“...”

“Not yet. There was an incident. The Winchester boy got involved, and she stepped in. Shall I--”

“...”

“Understood. I will continue to watch them closely.”

“...”

“No, Father. I won’t interfere… until you give the order.”

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Chapter Text

Weeks passed. Sam and Wyn had fallen into a comfortable cycle. They’d greet each other in the morning, then join up at lunch. After, they’d have the final two classes of the day together. In that time, Wyn started to come out of her shell. But only around Sam.

The gossip about the two school freaks teaming up died down after a little while. People were distracted, talking about any other bit of teenage drama they could sink their teeth into. Most notably the disappearance of the older school janitor and the wild animal attacks the month before. Two Eagle High Alumni were killed. Wyn didn’t know the former students that were killed, though she knew there was at least one younger sibling that still attending.

She did, however, know the missing janitor. Greg Mills. On a particularly rough day freshman year, Wyn was crying in the hall sitting in front of her locker, when the kindly man introduced himself. Basically, he told her not to let any of the “spoiled rotten punkass brats” bother her. That she had a bright future, and she shouldn’t waste a second on them.

After that, they didn’t speak much, but Wyn always smiled and waved when they passed each other in the halls. He always wished her well when the holiday breaks came. Kids always called him “Old Greg” as a joke. He seemed content with the nickname. Sadly, most students didn’t take the news of his disappearance too hard. Everyone too focused on what trouble they were going to get into for Halloween.

 

One particularly brisk Friday in October, Wyn sat reading a book in the cafeteria at what was now their table. Sam joined her, “Whatcha reading?”

The girl showed him the front cover of her thick hardback book.

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire ?”

“Have you read them?”

He shook his head.

“You have to! You’d love ‘em, it’s right up your alley. This is the fourth one. I’m re-reading them since the first movie comes out next month! It’s gonna be epic, I can’t wait!”

Sam chuckled, “I love it when you let your geek out.”

Wyn blushed, but smiled back at him, “I’ll let you borrow my copy if you promise to take good care of it.”

Sam raised his left hand and made a cross over his heart with his right. She marked her place then placed the book down. The ease at which she had been able to open up to Sam and him to her was surprising. After only a short while they had become almost dependent on one another.

“So,” Sam started with a nervous tone, “I was wondering. Maybe after school, we could… I don’t know - hang out?”

“OH!” Her mind whirled with the realization that he actually wanted to spend time with her. Outside of school. Alone . The past weeks had been filled with cautious optimism about their new friendship. But Wyn couldn’t deny that she felt strongly about Sam already. Now her cautious optimism was shifting into full on hope that Sam might possibly feel the same…

“I mean-- we don't have to-- if you’ve… got plans already,” He lowered his gaze.

“No! I don’t! Well, actually, I do… I’m babysitting. My neighbors work late sometimes during the week, so I watch their little girl until they get home.”

“Oh. Okay. Sure, no that’s cool,” Sam nodded quickly.

“You could come over though! I can check with my aunt, I’m sure she’d be cool with it.”

“Yeah?” his eyes sparkled brightly.

“As long as you don’t mind hanging out with an 8-year-old.”

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The final bell rung and students swarmed out the front doors. Joyous at the weekend ahead of them with endless possibilities. Sam stepped outside holding the door for Wyn. A simple gesture, but it didn’t go unnoticed by the young teen.

Sam smiled radiantly, “To your place?”

 

The pair made their way away from the school into the small town. Wyn had taken to walking to and from school each day. Between her and her aunt they couldn’t afford a second car. She had a bike once, but she left one day freshman year, only to discover her chain lock had been cut and her bike was gone. Originally, Wyn had tried saving up her babysitting money to get a new one, but it ended up being spent on groceries on months when money was tight.

If Sam noticed their meager route, he didn’t say anything. For which, she was grateful. It wasn’t like she was completely destitute. After the fire a sizeable life insurance fund had been granted to Wyn. Her father, though still alive, was in no condition to care for their finances or the land that their family owned, so official ownership passed to her. An executor was managing the money and the property until she was able to claim responsibility. Wyn would become quite well off, but it wasn’t something she was in a hurry for. They got along fine. Her aunt had been insistent on not using any of her money for the house.

“That’s for your college fund! It’s important for your future.”

Before long, Wyn and Sam walked up the driveway to enter the side entrance that led to the kitchen. She glanced at Sam who was admiring the house with subtle appreciation. The thought occurred to her: Sam hadn’t had a true home in his whole life. Or at least that was the impression she got.

“So my aunt says it’s fine to have you over on one condition… you have to stay for dinner.” Wyn dropped her backpack on the kitchen table, and Sam followed suit.

“No complaints here. I could use a meal that wasn’t previously frozen.”

Wyn chose to allow the comment to linger without any further notice. Through their many conversations up to this point, she quickly realized Sam was very insecure about his homelife. Sam idolized his big brother Dean, though he’d never put it quite like that, and… butted heads with his Dad to say the least. If he wasn’t going to pry too much into the more painful parts of her past, then she wasn’t going to pry into something that made him uncomfortable.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” She asked, changing the subject.

“What do ya got?”

“Ummm,” She opened the door and peered in, “water, lemonade, and orange soda.”

Sam crinkled his face in displeasure, “Lemonade, definitely!”

Wyn gave an exaggerated gasp, “You don’t like orange soda?”

He shook his head with a smile, his hair swishing slightly, as he took the cool drink from her hand.

“Sam, Sam, Sam,” she shook her head, “here I thought you were perfect,” she pulled back the tab on the can, and shut the door.

“Perfect?”

Their eyes locked. Sam's eyes full of curiosity. Wyn opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. The sudden sound of the doorbell made them both jump slightly.

Saved by the bell .

Without a word, Wyn rushed out of the kitchen, through the living room, and opened the front door to reveal a smiling 8-year-old.

“Hi Wyn!”

“Hey, Molly. Come on in.”

Molly Jefferson was short for her age. She had dark skin, round cheeks that dimpled when she smiled, and black curly hair tied into two poofy pigtails on either side. Molly entered heading straight for the living room where she normally sat to do her homework, her Powerpuff Girls backpack bouncing lightly as she walked. She stopped short when she saw Sam standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

Sam gave a small wave with a gentle smile, “Hi. I’m Sam.”

“Ooooo you have a boy over!” Molly drew out the words calling Wyn out on her scandalous actions. She knew enough to know that boys weren’t allowed to be in the house when no adults were home.

“Yeah, I know. I see him too!” Wyn stuck her tongue out playfully, and Molly giggled.

The little girl placed her bag on the couch, and peered at Sam discerningly.

“I’m Molly, and I’m gonna be a ballerina for Halloween!”

Sam glanced at Wyn with a knowing smile, “Well, Molly, you’re gonna be the prettiest ballerina ever!”

Molly nodded in agreement, her approval cemented.

“Alright you. Homework. Now.”

“But it’s Friday, and I wanna snack.”

“And I’ll get you one. But first, how much homework do you have?”

 

All three managed to find a comfy spot to sit, enjoy their snacks, and focus on their individual work. Both Sam and Wyn ever the overachievers always did their work early, a habit Wyn was trying to instill in Molly. Luckily, Molly only protested slightly. The young girl began working on a creative writing assignment, and Sam was working on the outline for their next project.

Wyn, however, had reread the same sentence a dozen times, before closing her book abandoning her efforts to focus. Her words to Sam were buzzing in her mind.

The look on his face… she could feel the one good thing in her life begin to unravel. There was no way Sam had feelings for her. He was alone, just like her, and all he wanted was a friend. If he wanted a girlfriend, he wouldn’t have that much of a challenge. He may have been labeled a “freak”, but teenage girls were predictable. Dark and mysterious guys were always attractive.

Sam should be with someone like… well anyone besides her. Wyn felt her heart clench tightly at the mental image of Sam smiling then leaning into kiss the beautiful faceless girl of her nightmarish fantasy. Which only increased her wallowing in self-pity.

“You okay?”

“Huh?” Wyn shook her head out of her mental fog.

“You, uh, look… you seem upset,” his voice laced with surprising concern.

“Oh, nothing. Just zoned out ya know?” Wyn cast her gaze down and retreated inside herself. She knew it was only a matter of time before something happened, and she lost her only friend. Blinking away tears, Wyn began cleaning up the remains from Molly’s snack and her abandoned homework. In her desperate attempt to pretend like everything was fine, she never noticed Sams concerned gaze following her around the room.

Time ticked on and Molly was watching cartoons, having finished her homework, when the doorbell rang.

“DADDY!”

The girl ran to the door, flung open the door, and leaped into the arms of the tall dark skinned man filling up most of the doorway.

“Hey there Princess,” Mr. Jefferson squeezed Molly tight, “you been a good girl?”

“Yes, sir, just ask Winnie!”

“She has indeed. Finished her homework and everything!”

The man's gaze turned to Sam. To many, Mr. Jefferson might seem like an intimidating man. Tall, broad muscled shoulders, and big hands tough from calluses. But they might not have been intimidated when they saw how much he got into tea parties with his daughter.

“And who is this fine young man?” He spoke in a deep rumbling voice.

“Sam. Sam Winchester, sir,” he offered his hand.

“Winchester, right,” realization washing over the mans face, “Your brother just started workin’ for me down at the garage! Corey Jefferson. Nice to meet you, Sam.”

“You too! Dean’s told me all about you. Says you’re a wiz with classic cars.”

“Well I prefer the term ‘master’, but yes I am!”

“Daddy’s gonna be a ballerina too! We’re going trick or treating!”

Sam and Wyn stifled their chuckles, but exchanged amused looks.

“Don’t judge, man!” he pointed to Sam, “Just wait till you’re grown, and got a little princess all your own. You gonna be wrapped around her little finger, trust me!”

Sam shrugged acquiescing. Wyn handed off Molly’s bag to her Dad, then duo stepped out to cross to the other side of the cul-de-sac, before heading into their two story craftsman home.

Wyn shut the door, and turned to Sam, “So, how are you in the kitchen?”

 

Wyn ushered Sam into the kitchen and gave him tasks in order to start prepping for a spaghetti and meat sauce dinner. Water was set on the stove to boil, and all ingredients set out on the counter. She began chopping onions and garlic, while Sam browned ground beef in a skillet. Wyn was thankful that Sam seemed to be focused on the task she had given him. He hadn’t pushed any further about her odd behavior.

Their movements around the kitchen were minimal. But they seemed to move within the same bubble. Keeping close proximity to each other, though neither seemed to be aware of it. One would look at the other, then quickly avert their eyes when their eyes met. By the time the homemade sauce was simmering and the pasta was in the boiling pot, her Aunt walked through the door.

“Welcome home, Aunt Stacy!” The older woman still wore her scrubs from the hospital, and walked straight to Wyn and gave her a kiss on the forehead. Then she turned to a suddenly nervous looking Sam.

“You must be the famous Sam I’ve heard so much about.”

Sam stuck out his hand, “Sam Winchester. Nice to meet you, Ms. Evans.”

“Bronwyn you’re right, he is cute.”
Sams mouth dropped, before quickly shutting again. He let out a nervous chuckle. Wyn stared at her aunt in horror.

“What? No I didn’t say-- not that you aren’t- I just that…” She trailed off helplessly. Her face was burning and she could feel tears start to prickle her eyes once more. “I’llberightbackhereSamcanyouputthisonthetableokaythanks,” she managed in a single breath before leaving the room.
Wyn made a beeline for her aunts room, knowing she would be close behind, and flung herself onto the quilted duvet, and sobbed out once in distress. Her aunt entered the room and closed the door quickly.

“You alright there kiddo?” Stacy went to her walk-in closet and began changing out of her hospital attire. She had grown accustomed to her nieces dramatics. A result of Wyn dealing with anxiety since she was a child.

“Why did you say that?” the sound muffled facedown, before flopping on her back and throwing her arm over her face, “He doesn’t know I like him!”
“Wyn honey, I was just teasing,” her aunts calming voice came from the closet, “Calm down… besides,” She popped her out with a smirk, “I might just be helping you out.”
“He doesn’t--” Wyns breath shuddered and her lip trembled, “like me, not like that. We’re just friends.”
“Right…” her aunt, now dressed in her house clothes, crossed her arms, the skepticism rolling off her.
“Would you just please be cool just this once? He’s the only friend I have and I really…” She almost didn’t want to form the words.

“You really what sweetie?” She sat next to Wyn and put her arm around her gently. Wyn allowed her head the drop sideways to rest on her aunts shoulder.

“I really don’t want to be alone again…”

“All right sweetheart. Don’t worry, I’ll manage some damage control. But I don’t think you need to be too afraid about this one.”

Before Wyn could even question her, her aunt rose and left them room. She stood shakily, looking at her reflection on the vanity next to the closet. Just breathe… it’ll all be okay. It’s just Sam. Nothing to be scared of.

 

Dinner went smoothly, much to Wyn’s surprise. Aunt Stacy had led them in grace, before engaging in light conversation with Sam. Asking him questions about school, his interests, and his family. Wyn had the forethought to tell her aunt that Sam’s mother had died when he was a baby, just like her. It was something they had shared, and understood that it wasn’t something that either of them wanted to discuss in depth. Wyn certainly didn’t want to discuss the gruesome details, or the horrific impact it had on her father. Thankfully, Aunt Stacy had the wherewithal to not discuss family tragedy at the dinner table.

“Wyn tells me you have an older brother?”

“Yeah, my brother Dean. He works at Jefferson Auto in town.” the hint of pride in Sam's voice evident.

“Oh yes, Corey Jefferson is our neighbor, just across the street!”
“Yeah, I met him when he came to pick up Molly earlier.”

“And what does your father do? Will I get to meet him soon?”

There was a slight awkwardness in the air. Sam’s disposition shifted from comfortably pleasant to sheepish.

“My Dad travels a lot. Sales work,” he shrugged.

“That must be hard. Not getting to see him everyday,” empathy and understanding laced her voice.

Sam looked unsure. Like he didn’t know how to answer. He nodded, “Yeah. But I’m used to it I guess.”

“What brought your family to Oregon?”

“I really wanted to be able to stay in one place to finish up High School, so that’s why Dad got us a place here.”

“It’s just you and Dean at home?”

“Yeah most days.”

“And how old is he?”

“22.”

Aunt Stacy paused a moment then nodded.

“I see. Well, if you boys ever need a good home cooked meal you are more than welcome in our home. I was praying for a good person to come into Bronwyn’s life, and now that God answered my prayer, I’m more than happy to leave the light on for you or your brother.”

Sams expression flipped. He appeared taken aback by the middle aged woman's warm words, as if he wasn’t expecting such a response. His face reflective of inhibited gratitude as he looked between the two women, “Thank you, that’s very kind of you.”

 

They finished dinner with full bellies and hearty smiles. Sam and Wyn cleared the table, Wyn washed while Sam dried. She apologized for her aunts overt religious talk, but he dismissed her concerns. Sam had mentioned that while he wasn’t exactly big on church, he did try to pray everyday. That had surprised Wyn, but at the same time gave her an odd sense of comfort.

Then, a knock at the door announced Deans arrival to pick up Sam. Her aunt was the first to the door to greet him. Their voices carried into the kitchen so the teens quickly wrapped up their cleaning. When they entered the living room, Wyn almost stopped short when her eyes fell on Dean Winchester. She wasn’t sure what she had pictured when Sam described his tough, sarcastic, mechanic of a brother… but, Wyn’s mind was suddenly filled with the image of a Dean in coveralls hanging at the waist, bare chest smothered in grease, wielding a long phallic tool spread out on the hood of car like something out of playgirl. Beautiful genes must run in the Winchester Family.

Dean playfully flirted with Aunt Stacy, making her giggle like a school-girl. Wyn figured that the only way he managed to calm nervous parents of his dates, was with his very effective charm.

“OH! I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere!” Aunt Stacy said, as if just remembering something.

“I’ll count the seconds.” Dean winked playfully, as the older woman began giggling under her voice. “And who might you be?” Dean now directed the full amount of his charm at Wyn.

She chuckled with Sam, “My name is Bronwyn, but please call me Wyn.”

“It certainly was a win for my brother meeting you--” Sam coughed over his brothers words. “You ready to go Sammy?”

The glare on Sams face was peculiar. She was just about to ask what he meant, when her aunt returned, holding a large container holding the contents of their dinner.

“Here you go boys! As a welcome gift. And my offer stands: anytime you boys needs a warm meal, just let us know.”

”Thanks!” Dean took the offered leftovers, “I might just take you up on that. Let’s hit the road, Sam.”

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.

They went to leave, and Sam turned back to look over his shoulder his hair dangling in front of his eyes and waved. He opened the passenger door to the Impala, sat down, and Dean shot a shit eating grin at his brother.

“Just friends, huh?”

“Shut up Dean!”

“Aww come on why don’t you ask her out? She’s obviously got the hots for ya.”

“You’re crazy dude, besides I can’t just ask her out point blank.”

“Why not? Works for me.”

“Dude, just… No. Wyn’s… different. Besides she hasn’t even kissed a guy before. Doubt she wants me to be her first.”

“Sammy, allow me to impart some brotherly wisdom to you. When a girl introduces you to her family,” he held up one finger, “she doesn’t flirt with me - the obviously more attractive one,” a second finger raised and Sam rolled his eyes, “AND she can tolerate your nerdy freak ass - she wants you.” The third finger raised, followed by quickly tussling his little brothers floppy hair.

Sam smacked his hand away, but furrowed his brow in thoughtful consideration. The remainder of their ride was uneventful with only the sounds of classic rock playing along with Dean singing along softly. Sam sat silently until they pulled up to their townhouse apartment. Deans words played over in his head as he analyzed the evening moment by moment. Scrounging up some courage, he pulled out his phone, pulled up Wyn’s number, and started texting.

 

S: What are you doing tomorrow?

He held his breath watching the screen.

W: Nothing…

He exhaled quickly, and closed his eyes. He could do this.

W: Why? He saw her second message come through, then carefully worded his response.

S: I wanted to spend the day with you. Maybe we could go to the mall?

W: Yeah, of course :-D I’d love that!

 

By the time Sam’s head hit the pillow, he didn’t feel any closer to a conclusion about how Wyn might feel about him, but he was smiling at the thought of the next day.

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“What are you gonna be for Halloween?” Wyn asked as they walked around the upper level of the simple shopping mall. People were bustling around, children screaming or laughing in the play area on the lower level, and fall decorations adorned all over. But you could see that they were already starting to set up ‘Santa’s Winter Wonderland’.

“I’m not big on Halloween.”

“Why? You too cool?”

“Nah, I just think it’s kinda lame.”

“You’re like the Ebeneezer Scrooge of Halloween, you know that?” She nudged Sam's arm with her own.

“You think three ghosts will haunt me?” Sam joked dryly.

“So you never went trick or treating? Never stayed up late watching scary movies?”

Sam scoffed, “Not really the apple pie upbringing.”

“Well, I will be lame and staying at home. I… I was kinda hoping we could hang out. Ya know, watch some scary movies since I promised Aunt Stacy I’d pass out candy to Trick-or-Treaters. I know it’s on a school night, but I know other people are gonna be staying out late too. I’d be surprised if any seniors make it in the next day!”

“Well, we could do that. I wouldn’t mind hanging out at your place. Popcorn and lame monsters movies could be kinda fun,” Sam shrugged awkwardly and Wyn could swear she saw a nervous look to his eye when his bangs flipped to the side.

“Cool,” Wyns grin was so wide she could feel the pinch in her cheeks, “Hope you don’t mind if I dress up! I told Molly she could stop by our place first so she would get to see me dressed as Hermione.”

“Lemme guess - a Harry Potter thing?”

“Yup!”

She had managed to bring the first book with her to let him borrow. Currently, it was sitting in the backseat of his brothers car. The auburn haired teen couldn’t hold in the excitement of being able to ride the beautiful classic car. Dean had given Sam very stern warnings about what he would do to him if anything happened to the Impala.

“You’re not one much for parties are you?” Sam asked. Some of their classmates walked by them, then promptly began whispering. Neither of them payed them heed.

“Not so much. Me in social situations usually leads to awkwardness and tears. No good for anyone involved. Besides, senior class tradition is to go camping out at Crater Lake on Halloween night. And I definitely wouldn’t want to be out there this year.”

Sam looked perplexed, “Why?”

“You heard about the animal attacks, right?”

Sam shook his head, but his interest was piqued.

“Two people were killed last month. It’s kinda sad, they graduated from Eagle Point two years ago I think? Anyway, they were camping out by Crater Lake, and were attacked. I read that Park Rangers think it was a wolf attack, but they keep track of all resident packs. So now they’re worried it might be a lone rabid wolf, since they’ve been able to track its attacks from Washington. Another body was found just a couple weeks ago.”

Sam's face shifted seriously. Wyn could practically hear the wheels turning in his head, but she had no idea what could possibly be going through his head.

“When did they find the first two?”

Wyn sifted mentally through the information she had read. She remembered that the attacks seemed to line up with the lunar cycle, but she couldn’t see how that was relevant, “I think right about the same time you started school here. Beginning of September maybe?”

“Yeah, you definitely shouldn’t go camping,” he spoke oddly, an almost 180 degree flip from his earlier playful attitude.

“Well, thank you for your support of my antisocial behavior,” Wyn joked.

“Oh well,” Sam switched gears, “purely selfish intent. Wanna keep you all to myself.” He smiled casually. Wyn couldn’t hold back the extreme heat creeping up her face and neck, but this time combined with a warm bubbling sensation in her core… that she didn’t mind.

.

.

.

“So what do ya think?” Sam sat across from Dean in their humble apartment, “Werewolf?” Old newspapers and printed copies of lunar charts from the library spread out on the cheap table in the kitchen. They had managed to snag a copy of the coroner's report confirming their fears. The hearts of the victims had been ripped out.

“Lunar cycle lines up,” Dean replied, “Each body was found on or day after a full moon. I can call Dad to be sure, but ya know if it looks like a duck, and rips out people's hearts like a duck...” Dean huffed out in exhaustion. After Sam had gotten back from his date - “It’s not a date, Dean!” - he had told him all about the information he got from Wyn. They had been up all night, going through the research they had managed to gather before the library closed.

“Look. You still have a couple days. You’ll be able to track it down,” Sam spoke before picking up another old article from four months prior.

“I’ll be able to track down? I think you mean ‘we’.”

“Dean, I can’t I have school!”

“You’re kidding me right?”

The look on Sam’s face told him that, no, he wasn’t.

“Sammy don’t ya think this a bit more important?”

“Please, Dean, can’t you do this on your own?”

Deans gaze pierced straight through him, “This is about that chick isn’t it?”

“No! It’s—it’s more than just Bronwyn okay? I finally have a chance to stay in one spot, and I really don’t want the whole school to find out I’m even weirder than they think.”

“Sam, no one is going to find out. We’re professionals okay? We go to the hunting grounds at sunup, find the bastard, pop him full of silver, you’ll be back in ‘Nerd Girls’ arms by lunch. Easy as pie!” Dean smirked confidently.

Sams jaw tightened at his brother’s words. Nothing in their life was ever easy. Hunting made things very very complicated, that’s why he wanted out so bad.

“Fine. One day. We have to take care of this before Wednesday.”

“Duh, dude. Full moon is Wednesday. Generally we try to kill the bloodthirsty monster before they get the chance to hulk out. Why? You got other plans?”

Sam averted his eyes, and coughed.

.

.

.

Monday came too soon. Students were distracted. Far too eager with their plans of mayhem for Halloween. Add in the fact that it was actually a full moon on Halloween night, just fed into people’s excitement. Wyn sat in first period distracted with worry. Sam hadn’t shown up for school. She tried texting him, but he hadn’t responded. Of course, he was probably just sick, but that didn’t stop a foreboding feeling in her gut.

The class sat working on a pop quiz the teacher had so kindly decided to spring on them first thing on a Monday morning, when the tone from the PA Intercom sounded.

Bronwyn Evans, please report to the principal’s office. Bronwyn Evans to the principal’s office.

The class let out a conspiratory “ooo” obviously assuming she was in trouble. But Wyn was simply perplexed. What the principal possibly want to see her about, she hadn’t the foggiest. She gathered her things and the teacher told her she could come by after school to finish the quiz. Then, she made her way down the quiet halls towards the front office, while apprehension and confusion filled her up. By the time she turned the handle to the principal’s door she was shaking. She found herself wishing that Sam was there.

“Miss Evans, please have a seat.”

The teen sat, her bag in her lap, and immediately started chewing her nails. Her unfortunate nervous habit. The principal peered at her, his face indiscernible. She averted her eyes staring at the name placard on his desk.

“So,” the principal smiled at her, “how are you doing?”

“...sir?”

“It’s my duty as principal to make sure my students are succeeding. I just wanted to check on you, and see how you’ve been lately?”

“Why?” She was officially confused. He had never taken an interest in her before. No one had before Sam.

“I know you’ve been a bit of a longer during your time here at Eagle Point High. But I’ve been hearing you’ve been spending deal of time with Sam Winchester, is that true?”

Wyn furrowed her brow, “Yeah, I guess I have… he’s my friend.”

“So you’d say you two are,” he paused, “close?”

The question made her uneasy, “Well, he’s my only friend, and I’m the only one he talks to so... yes?”

“Good, good, that’s wonderful. We always want to encourage our students to,” he searched for the word, “have a support system of sorts. Have someone you know you can count on.”

“Okay…”

“I just think you would do each other good. No one wants to be alone after all.”

The two stared at each other. An uncomfortable eerie feeling settled over Wyn.

“Can I go now?”

“Yes, of course Miss Evans. That’ll be all.”

Wyn jumped to her feet at the dismissal. Her bag slipped from her hands and spilled over onto the floor. Flustered she dropped to her knees gathering her belongings as quickly as possible.
“Crap,” she muttered.

“Hurry along now Miss Evans!”

She held her tongue and rolled her eyes. Angry frustration burned her cheeks, then her eyes caught something reflective under the principal’s desk. She reached out, her fingers touched the cool metal round object. When she held it in her hand she recognized it. It was a gold pocket watch.

“This is Mr. Mills’ watch!”

Greg Mills, the janitor, had been very proud of the watch. It was a gift from the school board as a thank you marking his work at the school for thirty years. She popped open the watch, and recognized the engraving with his name he had shown off to her one day.

“Who?”

“Greg Mills?” She stood staring appalled at the principal, “you know the missing janitor that’s worked here for over thirty years?”

“Oh my yes!” He shook his head as if just remembering the man existed, “he must have dropped it when he was in here cleaning last. Best turn it into lost and found on your way back to class.”

Wyn felt her stomach drop. It was as if he couldn’t care less about a missing member of his staff. Hurriedly, she gathered the remainder of her things and left the office, pocket watch still clenched in her hand. The bell hadn’t rung yet, so she made her way to her locker. Knowing that things tended to get stolen from lost and found, she wanted to keep the watch safe. At least until Old Greg was found. He didn’t have any family, so she knew she was probably the only one who gave a crap.

Gently, she placed the pocket watch into one of her knit gloves, and placed it in the back for safe keeping. Then she closed her eyes briefly, offering up a silent prayer for his safe return. She closed the locker and latched her lock, when a sudden chill filled the air.

“Geez, you think the school could afford better heating,” she shivered, her breathe visibly hanging in the air. The cheap fluorescent lights flickered over head, then a figure caught her attention in the periphery of her vision. She turned her head quickly, peering down the hall curiously. If she didn’t know any better, she would have sworn someone had just been standing at the end of the hall then vanished.

The flickering stopped. The cold air soon warmed. Wyn shook herself of the odd feeling that someone was watching her, when the bell tolled signalling lunch. Without thinking on her experience, she made her way to the cafeteria knowing that unfortunately today she would be eating alone.

Chapter Text

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.

.

“Hey Bronwyn!”

Wyn jumped, shutting her locker with more force than she intended, and turned startled at the voice next to her. Instantly, she relaxed.

“Wendy! Hi, didn’t see you there.”

Next to her stood Wendy Brook Hill. Looking at Wendy Brook Hill was like looking into the sun, in that she was painfully, and unbelievably gorgeous. Long flowy blonde hair, intense green eyes, golden tanned skin, and smile revealing sparkling whites. One couldn’t even argue that looks weren’t everything, because Wendy was also Class President, President of the National Honor Society, Head of Volunteer Projects, and was on track to be Valedictorian. Oh, and that summer she had been crowned Miss Oregon. However, as much Wyn wanted to hate the popular girl, she couldn’t really find fault with her. She would at least acknowledge Wyn in the halls.

“So this Friday after school, NHS is having a meeting for the canned food drive. You gonna co-chair again with me this year?”

“Yeah, sure. As long as you don’t mind.”

“Of course, I don’t mind! You’re way more organized than half the people on the board,” she playfully rolled her eyes. There was a reason she was the most popular girl in school, she was nice to everyone she spoke with.

“Thanks. Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“Excellent!” Wendy smiled in response. Wyn thought that would be the end of their interaction, but the blonde remained in front of her, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet.

“Anything else?” Wyn asked with a nervous smile.

“I’m so glad you asked! Yes! You know a bunch of the seniors are going camping at Crater Lake tonight, and I wanted to see if you and Sam were gonna be there?”

Wyn was surprised, and if she was honest a little bit flattered.

“Oh! I didn’t think we -- um, I can’t actually. My aunts working the late shift at the ER, and I told her I’d pass out candy at home.”

“Ah, man that sucks.” To her credit, Wendy’s slight disappointment did seem genuine. “So… is Sam gonna be with you or…?”

Suddenly, she didn’t like where this conversation was headed. Despite her normal gentle nature, Wyn felt the foreign feeling of jealousy rear its ugly head inside her.

“Uh, well…. I don’t know. We had made plans, yeah… but I’ll let Sam know he’s still welcome.”

“Definitely!” Wendy smiled brightly again, “So are you and Sam…” she trailed off the inflection obviously implied, but Wyn fought to feign ignorance.

“Are we what?” her voice barely above a whisper.

“Ya know, together? I mean, you guys are practically joined at the hip. I was just wondering if you guys were dating.”

“I--” Wyns heart began to beat rapidly, “I don’t know?” She felt utterly lost.

“So… he’s like, single?”

No no no no no…

“Uh--” Wyn struggled, articulating became impossible. Wendy’s gaze was hopeful. Before she was forced to answer, the bell rang signaling for students to make their way to first period.

“Gotta run. Mr. Nelson will flip if I’m late, but you’ll tell Sam? About tonight?”

Wyn nodded silently acquiescing, and Wendy smiled brightly again with a quick thanks before scurrying down the hall.

Sound seemed to vanish. The faceless girl she had imagined kissing Sam took the image of Wendy, and she felt sick. Her vision blurred, her balance wobbled.The idea that Sam might prefer Wendy dominated her thoughts. After all, he hadn’t been at school that week, and his texts had been brief and evasive, citing some family business he had to take care of. Maybe he was getting tired of hanging out with her. But, he had texted her that morning saying he hadn’t forgotten about their plans.

Wyn battled with what to do. Begrudgingly, she pulled out her phone to text Sam, while walking down the hall. It wasn’t fair for her to keep Sam to herself. He needed to know if he had better options, regardless if it was killing her.

 

W: hey u comin 2 school 2day?

S: no im really sorry. this fam thing is taking longer than I thought

W: :( bummer. hey u kno wendy brooke hill?

S: the beauty queen that does morning announcements?

The Auburned hair girl winced at that. Of course he knew who Wendy was. Every boy at Eagle Point did.

W: yeah. she asked if we were goin 2 the lake w/ class 2nite. i told i couldn't but she asked about you…

S: me? why?

She took a deep breath and plunged forward. He warranted the truth from her and nothing less.

W: think she wanted 2 c u there

S: oh. well tell her ive already got plans :)

An unabashed squeal escaped her, hope and excitement replacing the nauseating anxiety.

W: so we’re still on for 2nite at my place?

S: definitely as soon as dean and i finish this

Wyn smiled as she looked at the screen, shaking her head in mild disbelief. Maybe Sam didn’t care if the Wendy Brooke Hill had a crush on him. The warm feeling of hope that blossomed within her, while still new, was starting to become more familiar, thanks to Sam Winchester.

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.

.

The living room at the Evans house was colorfully decked out in fall decor. A collection of imperfectly carved jack-o-lanterns sat spread out over the front porch. Wyn had fluffed the pillows on the sofa five times, and changed out the movies she had chosen for the evening at least twice. Everything had to be perfect.

Aunt Stacy barreled into the living room, scrambling for her keys, already running late.

“Alright, I’ll be home late. I want you in bed by the time I get home. Tell Sam he is welcome to stay the night, but on the sofa! No funny business young lady!”

“Oh my God, stop!”

“He may be a gentleman, but make sure he knows that ‘No’ means ‘No’”

Wyn’s face burned white hot with embarrassment, “You should go you’re gonna be late!”

“Okay, Okay, Okay, there’s a twenty on the fridge for pizza, and Wyn honey,” Stacy swung her bag over her shoulder and held her nieces face, “Have fun.” With a kiss to the young girls forehead, she crossed herself, and offered a silent prayer she was gone.

A deep sigh released from the teen as she purveyed the room. Looking for anything further she needed to prepare. She figured she would order the pizza in a few minutes, after changing. So she sprinted up the steps, knowing that Sam could be there any minute.

Laid out on her bed was her costume she had worked so hard in putting together. Quickly she stripped her clothes from the day, went to grab the skirt, but stopped briefly.

Slowly, Wyn turned to her full length mirror next to her desk. Her reflection looked back at her. She lowered her gaze examining her body. Her plain blue cotton panties and simple white underwire bra her only cover. Running her hands down her side, she poked at the little bit of a pooch on her belly. Her hips had a little bit of softness as well, but it all seemed to accent the hourglass shape. She peered down at her chest. Not quite Victoria’s Secret model, but she figured C-cup was nothing to complain about. Taking in the whole picture once more, she couldn’t help but wonder… what would Sam think?

Without any further distraction she shook herself from her thoughts, and proceeded to dress quickly. An uncommon smile of self confidence graced her lips. Then she took a look at the final product and smiled wide. She managed to pull off Hermione Granger pretty well. Her hair wasn’t quite as frizzy, but good enough. A few minutes later pizza was ordered, and she popped in Night of the Living Dead . Even if Sam didn’t like horror movies, she figured a classic was a safe bet.

The teen sat on the couch, pulled out her cell and found Sam’s number.

 

W to S 7:32 pm : hey im excited for 2 nite, when u getting here?

Nothing to do now, but wait. She settled in. Getting up after a brief moment to answer the call of the first trick or treaters of the night.

W to S 7:45 pm : i never understood how ppl got caught by the slow zombies lol

 

More time passed. Sam was probably just running late. Dean would drop him off soon. The doorbell rang again, and Molly stood beaming, with her father… also dressed as a ballerina. Apparently the young girl had insisted, but he said he drew the line at tights. Wyn chuckled, complimenting Molly on her tutu and ballet shoes.

“You look just like Hermione!” Molly smiled brightly at her upon examining her costume closely. Wyn was sure to give her extra candy. When the two left to continue on their candy mission, the teen waived wishing them a fun night, closed the door and returned to her seat on the couch.

W to S 8:15 pm : molly came by with her dad, check it out lol *pic attached*

The credits started to roll on the black and white film. Wyn ejected the movie, and decided the next one would be a favorite of hers. Hocus Pocus . Virgin jokes, talking cats, and Bette Midler made for a wonderful combination. The three sisters were just being hung from the tree when the doorbell rang. Instead of trick or treaters, the pizza delivery boy stood on her doorstep looking unamused to be working on Halloween. Wyn took pity on the poor guy, and told him to keep the rest of the twenty as tip.

The delivery car drove away, and more costumed children approached with their candy bags already bulging. She smiled brightly, sure to give each child equal portions, then waved them off with a “Happy Halloween”. Before she closed the door, she peered up at the bright full moon shining down from the clear sky. Perfect for a night like this. Turning back inside, she placed the pizza on the coffee table, plopped down, and took a big bite from the pepperoni half.

Sam still hadn’t arrived. Her face fell when she saw he hadn’t responded either. She texted him once again.  

 

W to S 8:31 pm : pizza is here come and feast

 

More and more kids came and went with smiles, but progressingly sleepy eyes.

 

W to S 8:54 pm : hey popcorn & pizzas gettin cold where r u?

 

Wyn continued to wait… there was a long break when no kids came, then she got one final straggler dressed as Batman. She gave him extra candy for good measure.

 

W to S 9:33 pm : think i just had the last of the trick or treaters… u still coming?

 

Maybe something had happened.

 

W to S 10:15 pm : please text me when u get this

 

Wyn was panicking. Various scenarios ran through her anxious mind.

W to S 11:11 pm : im really worried, r u okay?

W to S 11:41 pm : ???

 

The night had long fallen quiet. The anxiety ridden teen had utilized all the movie distractions she could muster. Deep disappointment washed over her. She had wanted to badly for tonight to happen. Life wasn’t quite as overwhelming, her future seemed less intimidating, all thanks to Sam. Even if he only wanted friendship…

Finally, Wyn conceded that Sam wasn’t coming. Hopefully, she would see him tomorrow, and find out what happened. She released a long sigh, before picking up her phone once again. The battery was close to dying, and she was quite tired. She thought of Wendy’s kind offer earlier, and texted her.

 

W to WBH 12:56 am : hey wendy hope u had a good nite, mine suckd should have took u up on ur offer.

WBH to W 12:57 am : OMG GURRRL IT WAS CRAZY LIKE INSANE

A forlorn smile curved her lips, but stopped at Wendy’s next message.

 

WBH to W 12:57 am : wont go into deets but sam can fill u in, good thing he showed up

 

A black hole opened inside the young girls chest, and she had the crippling feeling of her heart tearing to tiny shreds. Hot tears welled in her eyes, she clenched them furiously. She sent one final text to Sam.

 

W to S 12:58 am : fine jerk hope u had fun w/ wendy

 

Her battery died as soon as the text was sent. Wyn threw the phone down on the sofa in anger, then grabbed the nearest pillow and shoved her face into it. Tears soaked the fabric, her heartbroken sobs muffled. Her body shook from the force of her cries. The room suddenly felt much more empty, the safe space now tainted with hurt of betrayal. The young orphan was unsure of how long she layed crying until she had nothing left, unmoving in the dark, when her aunt finally returned home.

“Wyn? Sweetheart why are you still up?”

Stacy flipped on the light to the living room, Wyn’s eyes shut quickly at the sudden change.

“Have you been crying?” her aunt instantly at her side wrapping her arms around her distraught niece.

“Sam stood me up…” her voice monotone, utterly defeated.

“What? No, maybe there was an emergency--”

“He went to that party at Crater Lake… he never wanted to be my friend.”

“Winnie, honey--”

“I mean why would he?” fresh tears of self-hate glistening, “The little homeschooled freak of an orphan. No one cared about me past three years, don’t know why I thought he was different.”

Stacy stopped quiet, gently rubbing the teens arms, “That doesn’t make sense though. Sam wouldn’t have--”

“JUST STOP!” Wyn rose to her feet, and all her negative thoughts started pouring out, “You keep telling me that things will get better. Well, guess what? They aren’t! And they aren’t going to. I’m worthless. Nothing. No one cares, and no one ever will. So don’t keep preaching that bullshit about the ‘right guy’ or the ‘good people’ out there, cause they don’t exist! I’m right back the way I deserve to be - alone!”

Before the older woman had a chance to respond, Wyn raced upstairs and slammed her bedroom door behind her, locking it for good measure. She stripped herself of her costume furiously, grabbed one of her aunts old band tees that was just too big for her, and retreated beneath her covers. Warm tears falling again, staining her pillow with a dark wet mark.

There was a gentle knock on the door.

“Go AWAY!” she cried out, not bothering to hide her anguish.

“Wyn, honey, I know you’re hurting right now… I promise tomorrow this won’t seem so bad. Try praying on it tonight.”

The teenager hiccoughed, sobs now wracking her body once more.

“I got your phone from downstairs. I’m gonna charge it in my room okay?”

Wyn didn’t respond. Choosing instead to continue wallowing in her own personal hell. Eventually, she heard her aunt's footsteps retreat down the hall followed by the soft click of her door.

People always used the expression ‘broken heart’, but Wyn had never endured how literal the pain felt. There was a gaping hole that was pulsing with white hot agony. She prayed for sleep to take her, so she didn’t have to feel. But just a few hours later the sun rose, soft light peeking through her curtains seemingly not caring about the sleepless night she had just suffered through.

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.

.

The cold halls didn’t feel as friendly as they had just the day before. As predicted many students skipped school due the revelries from the night before. Surprisingly, there were more seniors than Bronwyn had expected.

Not everyone had gone on the camping trip, but it seemed like everyone was talking about it. The fair-skinned teen blocked the overheard conversations from her mind. Judging from the animated and energetic expressions, it had been quite the night.

Numbly, Wyn tried to focus on the day ahead. She placed books into her locker before retrieving her materials for first period. She double checked to make sure Mr. Mill’s pocket watch was still safe, and shut the door and latched the lock. From the corner of her eye she saw a familiar tall, shaggy haired form walking towards her. Promptly turning, she sped the other way.

“Wyn! Wait up!!”

She kept walking, until a hand grabbed her arm. With more bellicosity than she actually had in her, she flung the hand off and turned sharply, “What?!”

Sam pulled his hand back startled by her aggression. His expression resembled that of a sad little puppy that had Wyn faltering.

“Look, I am so so sorry about last night... Dean and I had car trouble on the way back, and my phone got smashed. I wasn’t able to call, I’m really sorry.”

The girl wiped her eyes angrily, forcing away the moisture pooling up against her will. Her voice came out low and shaky, “Ya know Sam? At least all the other assholes in this school were mean to my face or just ignored me. No one else had gone so far as to pretend to be my friend so props on originality.”

Confusion washed over his face, so genuine looking that Wyn almost believed it.

“Wh-what?”

“I get that Wendy Brooke Hill,” she spat out the worse with venom, “is every guys wet dream, but you didn’t have to lie to me,” she struggled to hold back the wobbling in her voice. She silently cursed her unchecked reaction.

“Wyn, what are you talking about? I don’t—“

“I know you went to the Lake last night. Wendy was real glad you were there. Of course, I was surprised when she told me that, since we had plans…”

Sam’s eyes searched hers, before realization dawned on him, “It’s not what you think.”

“Save it.”

She was overwhelmed. Embarrassed, angry, and heartbroken. She turned away again, wanting to get as far away as she could.

“Wait, no! Wyn, I—“

“Leave. Me. Alone.”

Sam looked almost scared. To be honest, she scared herself a little bit, never having stood up for herself. Before the tall boy could say another word, Wyn ran down the hall through the front doors of the school, the sound of thunder overpowering the heavy door slamming shut. Sam was left alone in the hallway, staring after her.

 

Wyn managed to get a block away from the school, when the sky opened up. Water poured down, as if mocking her. Closed eyes raised up, she uttered out “Fuck me.” Briefly, she considered returning to school, knowing her umbrella was still in her locker, but her pride won out. She continued her walk in the storm, heading back home, her soaking auburn hair sticking to her skin. The tears tracking down her fair skin, blended with the rain.

It didn’t take a minute for her to regret her decision. November in Oregon and torrential rain were not a good combination. Just a couple minutes later, she was shivering so intensely everything hurt. But still she moved forward, refusing to give Sam the satisfaction.

“Bronwyn?”

The teen turned to the voice coming from a car that had pulled up alongside her, instantly recognizing the young man in the driver’s seat.

“H-hi, D-d-dean.”

“Jeez, you’re gonna freeze to death, what are you doin’ out here?”

“Maintaining my pride.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing,” she forced out through chattering teeth, “I felt s-sick, so I’mm j-just going home.”

Dean appraised her with skepticism, “Uh-huh… Well, hop in I’ll give ya a ride.”

“No, it’s f-fine really--”

“Don’t be a dumbass, you’re too smart for that. Get in.”

She stood deliberating. It was still over a mile to home, and she didn’t fancy the idea of another fifteen minutes of freezing water soaking her to the core. On the other hand, Dean was Sam’s brother. And right now she wanted nothing to do with the name Winchester. She knew that the young man wouldn’t wait forever, so she needed to make a decision. They looked at each other, Dean waiting expectantly.

Wordlessly, she walked around to the passenger side, opened the door and sat without looking at her savior. Immediately, she sighed in relief at the warmth of the Impala’s interior. If Dean noticed her resignation he didn’t comment on it. Then, he pulled away from the curb and continued down the road.

The trip started silent. Wyn sat on the passenger side dripping like a drowned rat as warmth quickly penetrated her, color returning to her cheeks. Dean stole a glance at the young girl. When he looked away, Wyn carefully peered at him taking note of the brother. A strong jawline, freckles dusting across the bridge of his nose and cheeks, and damn those green eyes. The brothers shared the trait of beautifully entrancing eyes. She turned her head forward, and stared down at the floor. The only sound the rattling noise from the heater. She was fairly certain something must have gotten stuck in there.

After what felt like an eternity, although it was just a few minutes, Dean pulled the classic car into the driveway, and placed the car in park. Wyn didn’t move to get out. She clutched her bag to her chest, knowing she should say something.

“Thanks… for picking me up, Dean. You didn’t have to.”

A trying sigh broke Dean’s stoic demeanor.

“I’m guessing, you decided you’d take your chances of pneumonia or worse instead of dealing with a problem. Would that problem be Sammy?”

“Dean--”

“No, ya know what? Lemme talk. Cause I think you need to hear this,” he turned his body towards her and looked at her with confident determination, “I get that you’re pissed. I don’t really blame ya, but Sam? He’s not the one you should be mad at.”

Wyn froze. Still listening to his words. The young man before her full of honest empathy.

“Sam, he… he hasn’t exactly had it easy. And I don’t wanna sound like a Lifetime movie, but he has been so much friggin happier in the past two months, than I’ve seen since he was six months old. I know you’re both brainiacs, or whatever, but you’re both dumb as hell when it comes to,” he gestured vaguely in front of Wyn, “this. All I’m saying is, give the kid a chance to explain. And if you still wanna kick him in the jewels, more power to ya.”

Wyn stifled a sob mixed with a chuckle, nodding fervently. She broke eye contact to blink away the stupid endless tears she seemed to possess. A conceding breath filled her lungs, and she slowly exhaled, trying to prevent another emotional break down. With a beholden smile, she returned her gaze to the man sitting next to her.

“Thanks again for the ride, Dean.”

He nodded, with a casual two finger salute, and she quickly jumped out and raced to the front door. Wyn was sure to be as quiet as possible, since she knew her aunt was still asleep. Often, when Aunt Stacy worked the late late shift, she would sleep until just before noon.

Thoughts swirling in her mind, she made her way to her room, to change into dry clothes. She opted for comfy yoga pants and a sweater, since she figured she wasn’t going back outside anytime soon. She wasn’t too worried about her aunt getting mad about her skipping school. She had never done it before, and after last night…well.

About ten minutes later, when the young girl had returned to the living room, she heard frantic knocking at the front door. She lept up hurriedly to answer before the noise woke her aunt. When she opened the door, she was surprised, but at the same time hopeful at the sight.

“Sam?! What are you doing here?”

“I need to say something,” he looked as if he had gone swimming in his clothes, he was so soused in rain.

“Did you walk all the way here?” emphatic guilt washed over her, despite that she had been prepared to do that very thing herself.

“Ran, actually. Before you slam the door in my face, I have to tell you something.”

She looked at him eyes wide in wonder, hardly believing that he was there. He had literally chased after her. She stood, allowing her hand to lower from the door handle and crossed her arms around her waist, the chill from outside creeping in.

“Wyn, I did not go to Crater Lake to be with Wendy, or anyone else. Yes, I was there, but I swear I didn’t plan on it. I can’t… I can’t explain everything, but it did have to do with my whole family business thing. I know, you have no reason to trust, but please, Wyn you have to believe me. Here, proof,” he extended his hand and in it was a slightly crumpled folded paper. She reached out and almost jumped when her fingers brushed his hand, it was that devine addicting sensation she was now beginning to associate with Sam.

She took the paper, and examined it, surprised to see it was folded tightly on itself to about the size of her palm. It looked like it had been taken from one of his notebooks. Carefully, she untucked the folds, and opened it to see a doodle of a little black cat sitting on top of a jack o’lantern. A teary smile broke her face, and saw below the doodle, Sam’s handwriting saying, “Thank You for a Magical Halloween!” then what fell out upon the opening of the last fold into her hand, made her jaw drop.

It was a pair for movie tickets, and on the stub she read the title “Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone”. Her eyes shot back to Sam’s face, her silent question lingered. He looked up from under wet hair dangling in his face, hands shoved sheepishly in his pockets. A curtain of rain continued to fall behind him, framing his totally vulnerable puppy dog look.  

“I was going to give you that last night… I went and bought the tickets couple days ago. I knew you really wanted to go, and I thought...I thought maybe I could take you,” He inhaled shaking, “as a date.”

Indescribable feelings filled Wyn. She forgot how to breathe temporarily, and her head shook slightly trying to comprehend the new information. Staring into Sam’s eyes she knew he wasn’t lying. She wasn’t sure how, but she could feel it with everything she had that Sams feelings were true. Her heart was pounding, she was certain Sam could’ve heard it were it not for the rain.

An overjoyed smile graced her lips, “You… wanna take me on a date ?”

“If you’ll still have me.”

“I can’t even -- yeah, I would love that!”

Overcome, she instantly wrapped her arms around the taller boys shaking frame, the note and tickets still held firmly held in hand. Sams long arms snaked around her figure and held her tight. Not caring that her dry clothes were now getting wet again, she held the hug as long as she could. Then it occurred to her, and pulled back.

“Oh God, Sam you must be freezing!”

“Just a little bit,” he said with light humor in his voice.

“Come inside, please, I can get you a change of clothes.”

.

.

.

Sam and Wyn sat cross legged on the sofa, holding mugs of hot chocolate, and a crackling fire going in the fireplace. Wyn had given Sam a spare t-shirt, one of her aunts from the AC/DC Let There Be Rock 1977 Tour. Apparently, before her aunt settled into the heavy Lutheranism after Nursing School, she was quite the little rebel. Stacy often bragged about her summers of following bands around the country. Wyn had also managed to find a pair of sweatpants that she thought could fit Sam. The waist was drawstring, and it had always been a little big on Wyn. However, the pant legs stopped a couple inches above his ankles.

Both had blankets wrapped around them. The storm continued to rage outside, but inside the two young lovers hardly noticed, finding the smallest excuses to touch each other. Knees touched, occasionally their fingers would brush against the other. They both could hardly believe that their feelings for each other were shared.

Sam had told her the basics of what he was doing on Halloween. As she understood it, it had something to do with the recent animal attacks, and he and Dean had reason to believe the students that went camping might have been in danger. So they had gone to the park rangers and volunteered to help them since they had experience hunting. There were definitely missing pieces and odd details that didn’t quite seem right, but Wyn couldn’t really fault him on having to keep part of his life hidden.

Wyn hadn’t told Sam all about her past. All he knew was that her Mom died when she was a baby, and that her Dad was in Kansas. But he didn’t know her father was currently in the intensive care ward of the Kansas State Mental Hospital. Her Aunt had taken her to visit him at least once a year since she was little, but last year they hadn’t been able to afford the trip. She wasn’t ready for Sam to know about that part of her life… not yet.

The teens were exchanging twin smiles as they talked about their plans, when Aunt Stacy sleepily stumbled into the living room. She wore a blue fluffy robe, over flannel pajamas. The nurse examined the pair with discernment.

“So you skipping school?” Stacy said through a yawn.

“Yes,” they said together.

“You guys make up?”

“Yes,” they parroted again.

The older woman nodded, pursing her lips as if in deep thought, “You guys want pancakes?”

They exchanged bright eyed looks, “Yes!”

Chapter Text

Bronwyn’s room was covered in discarded clothes that weren’t exactly right. Despite her Aunt’s assurances that Sam wouldn’t care what she was wearing, the teen was in a positively manic mode. Eventually, she had managed to narrow her choice down to a blue v-neck sweater, with dark grey jeans, and her brown leather knee high boots. She grabbed her nicer navy trench coat, and a cream colored pashmina scarf to top everything off.

It wasn’t often that she wore full faced makeup, usually she stuck with some eyeliner and mascara for every day. A purely lazy decision on her part. But tonight of course was special. A lightweight foundation with translucent powder on top. Sneakily, she had swiped her aunts blush, and was embarrassed to see the name of the blush color was “orgasm”. She finished off her look with a moisturizing lip color with a similar consistency to lip balm, avoiding sticky gloss. If anyone asked, she would say it was because of the cold weather, and most certainly not because she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Sam's lips for the past week and a half.

The final product reflected back at her in her full length mirror. Not bad , she thought, making a face that said as much. Happy with the gentle waves of hair framing her face, she turned to see Aunt Stacy leaning against her door frame, smiling warmly. She had been absent mindedly humming “Blackbird” a song Stacy use to always sing to Wyn as a lullaby. Even when she got a few years older, Wyn would always insist they sing it before bedtime.

“They grow up so fast!” Aunt Stacy wiped away an imaginary tear.

“Stop it, how do I look?”

“You look beautiful as always.”

The teenager groaned in annoyance, her aunt assured her again, “You look great, sweetie. Really. You and Sam are going to have a great time.”

The doorbell rang and Wyn’s eyes widened, her heart began to race with nervous excitement.

“Come on then,” Stacy nodded her head towards the stairs, “tall, not-so-dark and handsome is waiting for you!”



Sam had managed to convince Dean, once again, to let him borrow the Impala, but only after he dropped Dean off at a bar/pool hall that a bunch of the guys from the garage frequented. The look on Sam's face when Wyn opened the door, was both a relief and nerve racking. She knew that Sam wasn’t exactly a Casanova or serial dater like his brother, but he definitely had more experience than Wyn. Both dating/relationship wise, as well as… other things.

By the time, they reached the movie theater, Wyn’s anxiety was waning and excitement replacing it. Her eagerness for the movie and being able to share it with Sam, overshadowed first date jitters. Sam was sure to stop by the concessions and let her know she could get whatever she wanted.

Wyn wanted to save room for dinner after, so she just requested a Coke, small popcorn and some Junior Mints for them to share. They both shared a joking sigh of relief that neither of them was a Pepsi person. When they took their seats Wyn was practically bouncing with elated joy. When the title appeared onscreen she was completely enthralled. The only thing that broke her focus was the feeling of Sams warm hand slipping into hers, when the glass disappeared at the snake enclosure. She squeezed his hand lightly, gracing a smile his way before completely settling in to enjoy the film to completion.



When they left the theater and Wyn was smiling ear to ear. Her cheeks had started to hurt. Sam's hand was warm and firm in hers. They were met with the harsh cold, upon exiting the lobby.  

“So what’d ya think?”

“It was great! They didn’t keep everything from the books, which I guess is to be expected, but I just don’t know why they cut Peeves from the movie. He was one of my favorite parts.”

“Not all poltergeists are as tame as Peeves,” he said rather knowingly. He had managed to read the first two books in preparation for that night.

“I take it you're the expert on poltergeists?” Wyn let out a laugh at the silly notion. All of her nervousness had melted away. She only felt that comfortable at home feeling she always got in Sam’s presence. Now there was the added benefit of knowing he felt the same way about her.

“I love your laugh,” he said suddenly. Wyn stopped and looked to Sam. His eyes warmly penetrating. “I wanted to tell you that for a while, but I was scared,” Sam pulled them aside and put his free hand along her jaw cupping her neck gently. “I never understood why you’re always down on yourself. From the moment we met… you made me feel like, I don’t know like I finally had someone who got me. Hell you stood up to Snyder for me,” he let out a humored scoff, that she echoed. “You weren’t afraid of me, didn’t look down on me. You’re something special ya know that?”

Wyn released a soft breathy sigh. How did she get so lucky? Hazel crystals peered back at her, and she was lost in Sam. The voices of moviegoers around them seemed to fade away. It was only the two of them. Almost as if it was meant to be that way. Her eyes flickered to his lips, while biting her lower lip. Looking up she saw Sam mimic her. She moved her hand up slowly up to chest on his chest, feeling the frantic beating of his heart.

Thankfully, Sam took the initiative to close the distance between them, holding her body close against him, lowered his head to join their lips together. Electricity shot through them both, filling them with a divine pleasure. Uncertain where her confidence came from, Wyn eagerly countered, moving in response to the kiss. She couldn’t get enough, lips parting and dancing together. The lingering taste of peppermint chocolate present, from the candy. Finally, the pair broke the kiss, both gasping for air.

“Wow…” Wyn uttered out, at a loss for anything else to say.

The grin that showed on Sam’s expression, sent an unfamiliar but blissful sensation straight to pool in her groin. Those dimples were going to be the death of her, she was sure of it. He kissed her lips quickly once more, and took a step back.

“Come on, you wanna grab something to eat?”

All Wyn could do was nod. A bashful smile and pink dusting her cheeks, and not just from the cold weather. She was still unsure of what was expected, so she was glad Sam had some idea of how a date worked. He put his arm around her smaller frame, shielding her partly from the cold wind, and they returned to the car.

Sam immediately started the heater, trying to warm the interior as quickly as possible. It was only a few minutes until they reached the local late night diner. Missy’s

The owner “Missy” was a boisterous woman who ran a tight ship, but she also cared a great deal for her staff. One time, when Wyn and her aunt had been having lunch, a tourist couple had stopped there while on the road. The man started acting belligerent, and it progressed into him verbally abusing the waiter. Missy had stormed out of the kitchen waving a giant wooden spoon, telling the couple to get out of her restaurant, and that they don’t serve people who behave like trash.

“I hope this is okay,” Sam’s voice was soft and meek. Wyn looked between the diner and Sam.

“I love this place. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I wanted to take you someplace nicer, but I couldn’t really afford…” he trailed off, shoulders slumped in embarrassment.

With a gracious smile, Wyn leaned over and kissed him, “Sam I am so ridiculously happy to be on a date with you. We could go to McDonalds, and I’d be fine.”

Sam breathed out in subtle relief.

“Besides,” she grabbed her purse from the floor, “I’m paying for dinner.”

“What? No, you’re not!”

“Yes. I am. You paid for the movie, popcorn and candy. I got this!” She flashed a proud grin, and got out of the car. Sam shook his head lightly, and followed her into the diner.

They managed to snag a booth towards the back for privacy. One of the long time waitresses, Lucy, came to take their order. She was a middle aged woman with bright orange curls tied back in a ponytail. Sam lit up when he saw the diner served breakfast all hours, and ordered an egg white omelette with peppers, wheat toast, and a side of turkey bacon. After ribbing him for his healthy food choice, Wyn ordered a bowl of the ground turkey chili and a side of sweet potato fries.

Lucy cheerfully told them that their order would be right out. When she walked away she turned behind Sam, and gave Wyn a thumbs up mouthing, So cute! Wyn giggled.

“What are you laughing at?”

“Nothing,” she relaxed into the cushion booth seat and took a sip of her water.

“So you liked the movie?”

“Oh yeah! It was just like I imagined it. A little cheesy yeah, but that’s kinda the whole point isn’t it. Magic, fantasy, all that feel good stuff… it’s all about escaping to a better place. Where the good guy always wins, and there’s always happy ending.”

“Yeah, I guess so. I don’t really get to go to movies a lot.”

“I can imagine. What with all the traveling your family does...” Wyn observed Sam mannerism when she mentioned his family. He wasn’t nearly as secretive as he had been, but it still seemed like there was a lot of unresolved tension among the Winchester men.

“Can I ask you something?” He asked changing the subject, but she didn’t point it out.

“Of course.”

“So, I know you haven’t really done a lot, physically I mean, and I know you were raised super religious… what, um,” Sam’s face couldn’t get any redder, “what’s your comfort level? I guess that’s the right question.” He scrunched his face still unsure.

Wyn felt her felt warm, and that increasingly familiar sense of which had to be arousal shot through her.

“I’m not really sure. I mean, my lack of experience, isn’t exactly by choice, more of a lack of opportunity. I’m not opposed to ‘new’ experiences, though. I really, really liked kissing you. Obviously, I don’t want to go too fast--”

“Me neither, and I don’t want to pressure you at all,” Sam cut in hurriedly.

“I know,” she nodded, pushing through her own bashful inhibitions, “can I ask, what exactly have you… done?”

It felt beyond awkward to talk about, but she knew it was important, and she knew Sam wouldn’t make her feel silly for asking.

“I had a couple girlfriends, but really short term since we didn’t stay in one place too long. We made out, did some over the clothes touching. I’ve gotten hand jobs a few times, blow jobs a couple… nothing past that.”

“And… to the girls? What all have you done to someone?” She squirmed in her seat.

“I, uh…” a coy grin crossed Sam’s face, “I’ve fingered girls. And I ate out the last girl I was with.”

“Oh. Okay… and is that something you… would do again? Maybe?”

“With you? Definitely.”

Wyn didn’t bother hiding her smile, Sams expression matching hers.

“I’d be okay with that. I know my aunt wants me to wait until marriage for sex, but,” she rolled her eyes, “I’m not gonna hold back if it feels right, and I’m in love. That’s what most people want anyway right? Their first time to be with someone they love?”

The diner felt much warmer after their discussion. Both removed their outer layers, before continue their conversation. It took a much more light hearted tone. A few more minutes passed before their food came out.

“Alright!” Lucy’s voice drew their attention away from each other, “we got the omelette with nothing good on it, wheat toast, and imitation bacon. And for my girl we got house chili and hippie fries. Anything else I can get ya?”

“We’re great, thanks Lucy!” Wyn responded brightly. The waitress gave her a subtle wink, before checking her other customers.

The two dove into their dinner, offering each other a taste of their own meals. Not for the first time, Wyn was surprised by how at ease she felt with Sam. She had never been a people person. Her own inhibitions halting any attempts at friendship with others. But it was like she had finally found her place. Her true home.

Sam was her home.

When Lucy returned to ask if they were up for dessert they both declined. Citing full stomachs. Wyn laid enough cash on the table to include a generous tip. The staff waved them off with friendly smiles, and they stepped outside.

They stopped just outside the car, not wanting to part. Sam wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in for another blissful kiss.  

“I don’t really wanna say ‘Good Night’ yet,” he whispered.

Sam was so adorable it almost hurt.

“Well, my curfew isn’t until midnight, we still have couple hours…” she left her insinuation up to his imagination.

“Dean’ll be out all night. You wanna go to my place?”

Her heart raced with elated anticipation, being alone with Sam with no interruptions or prying eyes. She didn’t need to say anything, Sam able to read her expression.

.

.

.

The young lovers lips parted, and both breathed heavily trying to regain control of themselves, foreheads resting against each other in agitated arousal. As soon as they had entered the Winchester abode, and were certain it was empty they had fallen into each other’s arms with the hunger of a wild animal.

It was as if they hadn’t just gone on their first date, but had been together for a lifetime. Their matching desires felt natural and not at all rushed. Wyn straddling Sam’s lap on the sofa, his hands gently rubbing up and down her legs lightly scratching the fabric of the denim, with her hands clutched behind his neck.

“I’m sorry,” Sam breathed out, “I didn’t mean to-- I don’t wanna push--”

“No, no, it’s,” Wyn sighed out heavily, “it’s okay. I’m trying to hold myself back, too.”

Sam's eyes closed, and smiled.

“Is it supposed to feel like this? Like this intense?”

The young man shook his head, “I don’t know. Don’t think so… I mean, it’s never felt,” he let out a soft laugh, “like this.”

“You’re just that good huh?” She felt daring, and allowed her hips to roll against his. Gasping when she felt, stiffness between his legs pressed against her.

“Do you wanna stop?” Sam’s voice barely a whisper. She shook her head. Not wasting time, they continued their motions, feverish hunger driving them further. Wyn moaned softly into the kiss, and felt his hands move up to her waist. In the blink of an eye, Sam had flipped her to lie flat on the couch, his body still pressed between her legs.

Their eyes locked again. Wordlessly checking in. Not wanting to push too far.

The subtle roll of Sam’s hips had Wyn mewling in delight. The intoxicating feeling of arousal overwhelmed her. A feeling she wanted to embrace.

Lust.

He continued rolling his hips, their groins flush together. Desperately, Wyn pulled his lips to crash against hers again, matching his skilled movements perfectly. Each thrust escalated, the friction of their jeans teasing. A tell tale growth pressed between her legs sending her to the stars.

It was…

Absolute heaven.

Their heavy pants sounded in the empty dark room. Growing more frantic, Wyn parted her lips, tongue shoving its way past. Sam let out a pleased groan and responded by sucking her tongue hard. She gasped, and he sucked her bottom lip rolling it between his teeth. Their bodies pressed together with deep yearning.

With one arm resting on the sofa, protecting her from the brunt of his weight, Sam trailed his other hand to the soft waves of her hair and clenched slightly. Enough to make the young girl cry out in agreement. She felt him bury his face in the crook of her neck.

Wyn’s arms curled beneath his and grabbed his back. Holding on for dear life when she felt his lips touch her neck.

“Oh God… Sam,” she gasped.

Spurred on by her moans, Sam kissed, sucked, licked and grazed his teeth along the sensitive flesh of her neck. Sam’s thrusts were increasing in speed. His breath growing more labored and frantic. She clutched him tight. Chasing the peak of pleasure. They were both so close.

Neither heard the front door open. In fact, they were both oblivious that they were no longer alone until the lights flipped on. They jumped apart startled by the intrusion. Sam quirked his head to the side, staring at the strange man now leaning against the doorframe to the living room, arms crossed an amused smirk on his face.

“Dad?!”

“Heya Sam. Who’s your friend?”

Wyn’s eyes widened in surprise. She took in the man before her. White speckled into his beard. A gruff, but still charming demeanor. Turns out she was right. Good looks definitely ran in the Winchester family.

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Chapter Text

John waited in the Impala, as Sam escorted his girlfriend to her door.John could see a light on in the living room of the quaint two story house, concluding it was the girl’s aunt that she had mentioned. The Winchester patriarch shook his head with a grin. Dean had always been the one he walked in on with a girl. This was a first for Sam.

Luckily, the poor girl, despite blushing deep crimson, managed to muster up a formal introduction. Bronwyn Evans. The name stirred up something of the past. He wasn’t sure why. The two knew each other from school, as they apparently had some classes together. John knew that Sam had a couple girlfriends in the past, but it never seemed to last long. Then with guilt, he recalled that those relationships didn’t last, because he had always finished up a hunt, then left town with his boys.

Not for the first time, he wondered if his methods were worth it. Dean was grown and Sam was already becoming a man, as well. He had poured everything he had into safeguarding them, in his extensive search for the thing that killed their mother. In the blink of an eye, Mary’s children didn’t need him anymore. But he had to prepare them for the evil in the world. John was starting to realize their family’s tragedy may run deeper than he originally thought. He looked up to see Sam returning to the car. There was one thing he could do as a father still.

Sam quickly got in the car, shutting the door, and avoided eye contact. John let out a good natured chuckle, and they drove away.

“Pretty girl Sam. How long’s this been going on?”

There was a brief pause. “Tonight was our first date, sir.”

“I’m impressed, that’s some big action to get on the first date.” Sam released a strangled noise that sounded somewhere between agreement, and a plea to disappear. “Look, Sam… I’m not giving you a hard time. Hell, when your mother and I first started dating, we could barely keep our hands off each other.”

“Dad!”

“No need to get all in a huff. Just seems that you like this girl, and I know Dean’s approach to dating is… different. Wanted to give you some advice.”

“I do like her. Every since we met, I… I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I never thought she would go out with someone like me.” John couldn’t remember the last time he saw Sam smile like that.

“Bronwyn seems like a sweet girl Sam. She could be good for ya,” John peered sideways at Sam, “This is the time in your life that determines what kind of a man you’ll be. You need to do things right.”

“Sir?”

John looked over to his youngest as he spoke, wanting his words to land. “When it comes to making love to woman, there are three things you need to know. One: always wear a rubber. Two: Respect her. If you think part of her might not want it, don’t do it. And three: you don’t finish before she does. You got that?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Atta boy,” he reached over, and gave a mortified Sam a fatherly pat on the shoulder, “Now tell me more about this pretty lady of yours.”

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After the embarrassing moment with Sam’s father, the two had been significantly more cautious when engaging in feverish make-out sessions. Taking advantage of the occasional empty classroom during their free period, the hidden corner in the library, and the like. Always making sure no one else was in sight, or that there was minimal chance of them being disturbed.

Recently, Aunt Stacy had a serious talk with Wyn about her new relationship. Telling her young niece that sex was a big responsibility, and that Stacy felt Wyn was still too young for sex. The nurse in her still told her to make Sam use a condom, if the occasion arose. Wyn was mortified. Spouting off that while a first love can be exciting, a lot of mistakes can be made. Specifically, moving too fast physically.

After all Wyn was a virgin in every sense of the word. Aside from the intense arousal she felt with Sam after their first date, those feelings were brand new to the young girl. Everytime their lips met, Wyn could feel herself falling deeper under Sams spell. The zealous way her body would press against his. It was like she couldn’t get enough, and it was rather unsettling. A part of her was desperately wanting for any intimate contact, while another part was wary of just how eager she was.

Her own inhibitions rattled around in her mind. She shouldn’t be this needy. She shouldn’t have kissed Sam so quickly. She shouldn’t be so slutty in her late night thoughts of Sam. After all, good little Christian girls didn’t behave like that.

Wyn hadn’t expressed these feelings to Sam, yet. He seemed quite content with their relationship as it was, for the moment. But that could be attributed to lack of opportunity. When they weren’t at school, Sam was helping Dean work odd jobs to help ends meet, Wyn was volunteering at her church, or the both of them would be in the presence of either her Aunt Stacy or Sam’s dad. Both Sam and Dean were surprised, albeit grateful, at their father’s, now, frequent trips home. John still traveled a lot for work, but he would check in on the boys regularly. Stacy had even invited the Winchester clan to join them for Thanksgiving dinner.

From what Wyn could tell, it was a significant change to how things had been for them the past several years. It broke her heart a little to think of a young Dean caring for his little brother, when he was still a child himself.

 

Finals were just a couple weeks away. Sam and Wyn were able to mitigate each others stress, hammering out plentiful study time for AP Biology and AP European History. Wyn, unfortunately, had been struggling with History. She had loved AP US History, but Euro was currently kicking her ass. Which she complained about on a regular basis.

“Well, there’s a few more centuries of history in Europe than here,” Sam had reminded her gently, as they sat on her bed. She had grumbled in response, muttering something along the lines of how ancient history was much more interesting, before returning to her term paper on the long-term societal and economic impact of the War of Roses on Western Europe. Yawn. It was a rare Saturday for them to be completely alone. Stacy having picked up extra shifts at the hospital, resulted in her working close to 20 hour shifts.

“I can’t do it,” Wyn slammed notebook shut releasing a cry of frustration. “If I have to read again about how some syphilis-ridden monarch created their own rules, so they could get laid more, I’m gonna lose my mind.”

Sam’s lips curved into an amused smile, “Not a fan of King Henry VIII, huh?”

Wyn rolled her eyes, discarding her history notebook, to reach for the textbook for her Honors Latin IV class. Sam quickly reached over to stop her hand.

“Maybe we should take a break. You hungry?”

Wyn’s face reflected the relief and gratitude at his suggestion of lunch. The two made their way downstairs to figure out what exactly their teenage metabolisms were craving. Considering their brains were mush from the excess studying, Wyn suggested ordering take out. Sam spied a chinese menu on the fridge with interest. By the time, they had decided upon their selections and Wyn called in the order, Sam had settled into the living room. He knew they needed to channel surfed until something peaked their interest that didn’t require the weary students to think too much. Christmas specials had been playing non-stop since the day after Thanksgiving. Wyn quickly vetoed those. Sam vetoed any Reality TV. They settled on That 70’s Show .

“I don’t understand how the parents haven’t figured out the kids are getting high in the basement,” Sam pointed out.

“Denial maybe?” Wyn suggested, “Maybe they just didn’t want to believe it so bad, they kind of ignored it.”

“Nah. Red’s too much a hard ass. He’s a war vet. Runs that house with an iron fist.”

Wyn couldn’t ignore the tone in his voice, “Did your dad ever catch you doing something bad? I mean besides…” She trailed off, letting the implied reference linger.

“Probably. Can’t remember anything in particular. Dad actually yelled at Dean, way more than he yelled at me. Up until a few years ago anyway. That’s when Dad and I really started to butt heads,” Sam spoke unreservedly. He had grown much more accustomed to discussing his past with Wyn. Guilt weighed on her, since she had revealed bare minimum information about her own. Even though they both lost their mother, Sam still had his father and a brother. She wasn’t even sure her father knew who she was when they visited. All she had was an aunt that was hardly around.

“Things getting any better?”

“I can’t tell,” his answer honest.

The doorbell rang, and Sam jumped up to answer while Wyn retrieved the food money left by Stacy in the kitchen. The two hungry teens dug into their high sodium meal with great vigor, finishing in record time. Begrudgingly, the two returned upstairs.

“Back to the torture,” Wyn sighed, flinging herself back onto the bed.

Sam shut the door behind them, and moved quickly to prop himself over her, “Maybe you need a little more play time,” he grinned mischief coming off him in waves. He pecked her lips teasingly.

“Sam Winchester, are you trying to seduce me?”

“Maybe. Is it working?” He kissed her again, letting the kiss linger.

“You tell me.” Wyn pulled him close, their bodies flush, and kissed him deeply. She allowed her tongue to push past to tease his lower lip, sucking it, and rolling it between her teeth. A low groan rumbled in Sam throat. Confidence surged through her. She lowered her hand, tentatively, then gently palmed between his legs.

Sam took a shuddering breath, “Fuck…”

Wyn sharply retracted her hand, afraid she had gone too far. “I’m sorry -- I didn’t…” Her cheeks turned crimson. Tears stung her eyes, completely mortified.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Sam shifted to lay by her side, and wrapped his arms around her. He stroked her hair soothing her, “What are you sorry for?”

“I shouldn’t… be so pushy. It’s too soon.”

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Sam tilted her head to look into her eyes, “you know I feel the same way. You should never feel guilty of how you feel with me.”

Wyn clung to Sam, burying her face to his neck. “I just… it’s so easy for me to get carried away with you. And we’re not supposed to… we shouldn’t go so fast.”

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“That’s the problem.” She peered into his eyes. “I do want to. Is that bad?”

“Of course not. It’s you and me. Screw everyone else, we do what feels right to us.” Sam kissed her again. Wyn shivered, arousal pooling in her lower belly. She had butterflies. “So what do you want?” Sam’s voice was just above a whisper.

Wyn closed her eyes. Mulling over the question. When she opened her eyes and saw the passion in Sam’s hazel orbs, her decision was made.

“I want to make you feel good.” Their lips pressed together, eager. She could feel the response of his body against her. Again, she lowered her hand, gently cupping him. He moaned, a desperate sound of lust into her mouth. His cock swelled and hardened, he pushed harder into her hand. Her heart was racing.

The books from studying now lay completely forgotten on her bedroom floor. Wyn straddled Sam’s lap, and it was quickly becoming her favorite position. Sam sat up, holding her upright. Somehow in the midst of their ministration, Sam’s shirt had come off. She nearly wept at the beautiful sight. Her blue-green eyes sparkled brightly.

“Oh wow! You are, freakin - wow!” Sam grinned bashfully at her appraisal, pulling her close to him again, pressing his chest to hers. He planted quick kisses along her sternum, and his hands moved under the back of her shirt fumbling with the hooks on her bra. She aided in removing the bra, without taking off her shirt.

Sam face looked mildly impressed. Then they resumed their make out session and she could feel her skin growing hot. Rubbing her hands all over Sam’s exposed skin gave her such deep satisfaction. She could sense his own desire growing beyond control.

Their lips sucked and nipped at then other, in their base need to be as close as possible. She rolled her hips, frustrated at the layers still separating them. Instinctively, she lowered hers hands. Deftly unbuttoning and unzipping her own pants, before doing the same to his. He inhaled sharply, and took her hands in his. Their foreheads resting against each other. His form was shaking. He removed one hand from hers, then slid it beneath her shirt once again. He massaged one breast, rolling it and teasing the nipple with his thumb.

“Do you wanna keep going?”

She could hear the utmost restraint in his voice. It was intoxicating.

“Please.”

Needing no further encouragement, Sam lifted her from his lap, layed her back, and pushed his jeans down. He kicked them off onto the floor, before slowly urging hers off as well. Sam was left only in his boxer briefs, Wyn in her shirt and panties. He kissed his way up her body from her thigh, to her stomach, her chest, then peppered kisses along her jaw. Wyn moaned breathily, her self-doubt ebbing away.

Before she lost her nerve, she placed her hands on Sam’s hips pushing him to the side, to lie flat on his back. Their forms jostled on the bed, arranging themselves to a comfortable position. Wyn rose to her knees, and stared at his body. Her fingers traced the lines defining the lean muscle. Following the light trail of hair, leading down to the elastic band of his underwear.

“Will you tell me what to do?” Wyn’s voice was meek, but sure. He simply nodded. She pulled on the waistband, and lowered the garment from his hips, his cock springing forth to rest against his abdomen. The breath left her lungs at the sight of him. Thicker than she imagined, and longer. Seemed Sam was fairly well endowed. Trepidation filled her.

“Woah.” Sam blushed pink. Wyn reached out and took the length in her hand, wrapping her small hand around. Her fingers didn’t wrap all the way around, a small space between her thumb and forefinger.

“Oh God.” Sam cried out.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No definitely not. Just don’t grip too hard. Um, start off slow.” She nodded, and experimentally moved her hand down to the base, slowly back to the tip. She thumbed the head, precum pearling out the slit. Sam’s breath grew quicker. Wyn spread the small amount of liquid over the head. Her head was swimming. Warm slickness felt in her panties.Then, she resumed her movement, wrist twisting. His eyes fluttered shut. She took that as a good sign.

Her confidence was growing. Sensing what he needed, adjusted her technique instinctively. After a few pumps, “D-d-do you,” he gasped, “have lotion?” Quickly, she retrieved the bottle she kept on her bedside, and pumped a small amount in her hand. Warming the cream, before gripping him again.

“God, yes.”

Wyn smiled. She became caught up in the pleasure she was giving him. Ultimate control. She pumped his cock a little faster, firming up her grip slightly. His hips began to thrust, matching her motions. “Like this?” Sam nodded fervently, words escaping him. She quickened her pace. Feeling brave, she seized his balls with her free hand. Rolled the heavy orbs gently in tandem with the pumping. He moaned out. She could sense he was nearing his peak.

His hips continued to thrust up into her grip, clutching the sheets. Eyes clenched, mouth ajar in unabashed pleasure. “I’m-- I’m close--Ngh, Wyn!” She helped push him over the edge, and he came shooting onto his muscled stomach. Her eyes widened, proud and craving to touch his release. To taste. But held back.  

Sam’s breath came in deep gasps, as he settled from the high of his orgasm. While Wyn was still flying high on the thrill of seeing him come apart in her hands. She made him feel like that. It felt astounding. She laid gently next to him, her hand placed over his heart.

A blissful grin crossed Sam’s face, and turned locking their eyes together. She wasn’t sure what he saw when he looked her, but dark arousal crossed his features again. All she knew is that Sam wasn’t done with her, yet. His gaze filled with lust, as she felt his hand gently traced her side up to her face.

“Can I make you feel good, too?”

His request was so simple, but she felt trepidation. What if it wasn’t good? What if she was a freak and didn’t like what he did?... what if it hurt?

He must have sensed her hesitation, “Hey, don’t worry. Nothing you don’t want okay?” She could see the earnest look in his eyes, which calmed her nerves but not her racing heart.

She nodded. “I...what if…”

As if reading her mind, “If there’s anything you don’t like or it hurts, just tell me and I’ll stop. Trust me,” he kissed her intimately, allowing the vulnerability of the moment to melt away, leaving only intimacy, “I’m gonna make it good for you.”

What could only be described as a whimper escapes her lips. “Okay,” she smiled softly, giving him a look of loving trust.

He brought their lips together again, reigniting their passionate dance. Her mouth moved in perfect tandem with his. After such a short time they were already learning to anticipate the others actions and intentions. Perhaps that’s why she had been able to figure out what Sam needed so easily.

They both allowed the heat to build between them, and she could feel the wetness between her legs still making itself known. Her hips rolled closer to his, as they laid on their sides.

“Lay back,” he whispered. She obeyed eagerly and he sat up. His fingers went to the sides of her panties, and she quickly grabbed his hands. She felt her cheeks burn, embarrassment flooded her.

“Can we keep them on?” Her voice timid, and she inhaled shakily.

“Hey it’s okay,” he immediately used one arm to hold himself above her, cupping her face with the other, “You don’t need to be shy, but yeah whatever you need, Wyn.”

She smiled thankfully, “I’m sorry, I’m just not very… you know.”

“You’re not what?”

“I know, that physically, I’m not--”

“Actually, I’m gonna stop you right there,” Sam cut in, halting the self deprecating thought, “You are gorgeous !” She huffed. “You are,” he insisted, “Wyn what you do to me, I just - I can’t even begin to tell you what looking at you does to me,” he allowed his hands to trail down her side, slipping under her shirt and moving up. She peered into his eyes with ultimate trust. Then when he gently cupped her breast in his large hand, her eyes fluttered shut at the welcome feeling.

“Your eyes, your hair, your body . Every part,” Sam skilfully pushed her shirt above her breasts, not removing the garment to make sure she had a shield in case she got nervous. While one hand gently massaged her breast, he covered the other in fevered kisses. Then he captured her nipple in his lips, and his tongue flicked out teasing the hardening nub.

“Oh God, Sam…”

“I won’t do anything you aren’t ready for,” he whispered earnestly. His father's words echoing in his mind. Anything they did together, Sam didn’t want her to have any regrets.

Sam showered her body with loving attention. He was going to take his time to eliminate any reservations Wyn had about her body. He wanted her squirming and begging for his touch.

“I want to,” she managed, “Touch me!”

 

Sam propped himself up with one arm, allowing his other to trace a teasing line down her abdomen. A shiver spread through her extremities, leaving a warm desire between her folds. His long fingers found their way under the panty line, over the smooth outer lips, and gently pressed his middle finger down on her clit.

A desperate moan escaped her lips when he started slowly rubbing the sensitive nub. His skilled movements had her purring with pleasure.

“Ooh, oh my…”

She heard him let out a short laugh, “Is that a good sound?” He was obviously taking joy in his slow teasing.

“Yes. Good. All the good...ohh,” her babbling trailed off no longer able to string together coherent thoughts. She parted her legs, opening herself to his will. Sam's expression turned slightly predatory, and she liked it. She was a delectable meal just ready for him to devour. While he let his thumb continue to rub her clit, his two middle fingers traced her slick entrance. Between the soft breathy moans and whispers of Sam's name, a please broke through. He was all too willing to give her what she wanted. To distract her, Sam brought their lips together and shoved his tongue inside, and softly pushed his middle finger inside her.

Wyn gasped at the intrusion, and Sam soothed her gently, “Just breathe, okay? Am I hurting you?” She shook her head. “I’m gonna move a little bit,” he began pushing his finger deeper into her, until he felt his palm press against her clit. Then, just as slowly, he began pulling it out. Her left hand shot up to clutch his bicep, to grip, without halting his motion.

The slow drag, and new feeling almost sent her flying off into outer space. She didn’t know if it was because it was her first time, or if it was because it was with Sam, but what she felt was freaking incredible... Blessedly, Sam continued his slow gentle movement, gradually feeling her relax and begin to thrust with his hand.

Sam gazed at the beautiful site before him. Her auburn hair splayed messily on the pillow below her head, her T-shirt still on bunched above her breasts, her right hand playing with an exposed nipple, and Wyn a quivering mess with his hand down her cotton panties, now quite wet with her arousal.

“I think you’re ready for another,” His voice was low and animalistic. Sam staved off his own desire and simply pressed his now erect-again cock against her warm thigh. It was still slick from earlier. He couldn’t imagine how he would keep it together when they went all the way.

He had to clench his eyes and push down the vision the thought brought to mind. Maybe she would ride him, he thought. She had looked concerned about his size, this way she could take her time. Take inch by inch of his cock, slide down slow, tease him. Shaking his head he refocused on the pleasure needy girl next to him.

When his second finger slid in next to the other, she cried out throwing her head back against the pillow. He couldn’t help himself, when he saw the way her back arched, pelvis pressed to his hand and neck stretched back in submission, he dove forward teeth latching possessively on the skin, sucking a dark mark against the pale canvas.

Wyn panted, feeling like she was being pulled in and stretched out at the same time. His long digits pumped into her, coating them in her slick lubricant. Then, Sam curled his two fingers, as if he was beckoning the orgasm out of her, and she saw stars. The duel stimulation of the spot inside of her, and the intense play her clit was experiencing, made her feel like falling apart.

It was slightly terrifying.

Saaam…” the name drew out of her like a prayer. Asking. Pleading. Such sweet begging. “Please —ah, oh- SAM!” Her vaginal walls clenched and trembled as her orgasm hit her. She was completely unprepared for the waves of ecstasy that fell over her. Her hips bucked erratically, her back arched and toes curled tightly. Without thinking she pulled Sam face to hers, smashing their lips together a bit roughly. Their lips fought for dominance, while Sam helped her ride through her climax. It seemed he was close to completion again too. His hips thrust desperately against her hips. Then after a couple hard jerks, he grunted out, cum landing on her lower stomach.

Finally, they both collapsed back onto the mattress exhaustion catching up with them both. Teenage endurance only going so far.

Wyn shaking let out a satisfied and slightly sex delirious chuckle.

“Did you like that?” Sam grinned laying on his side resting his arm over her waist.

“That was… h-h-holy crap,” she let out on a disbelieving laugh, “orgasms are fun.”

He chuckled, nuzzling her jaw leaving a trail of kisses.

“If this is how you react to fingering, I can’t wait to see how you react to getting eaten out.”

The young girl looked at him, “So you meant it when you said you… you know?”

He quirked his head oddly, “Of course,” he kissed her lips, “I want to do anything that makes you feel good.”

“And would you want me to,” her eyes flickered to the still impressively sized length no longer pressed to her side, “do that to you?”

“You mean give me a blow job?”

She blushed, but nodded affirmatively. She wasn’t ashamed of her lack of experience just regretful at the chance of not making it the most pleasurable for Sam.

“Only if you want to. Just because I do something for you doesn’t mean you have to do the same. Whatever you feel comfortable with. And I’ll just put this out there too. I noticed you shaved down there. Now you do whatever you want, it doesn’t matter to me, but if you don’t wanna be completely bare down there, doesn’t make a difference.”

Wyn nodded, blushing slightly. She had been ‘preparing’ for more physical experiences. It was good to know that Sam didn’t seem to have a preference about her grooming habits. She realized she should feel odd about someone explaining all the subtle nuances and things that most people already knew going into sex, but Sam… Sam made all her questions seem okay. Natural even.

“Would you tell me what to do? Like you did just then?”

She looked at him with complete trust. The sight took his breath away. Sam smiled genuinely, “I’d do anything for you.”

He brought their lips together once more and kissed her deep. Pouring every ounce of passion her had into the kiss. Then he grabbed a tissue from her bedside table and wiped up the now cool ejaculate on her tummy, cleaned himself, then tossed the tissue in the can next to the bed. He found his boxers on the floor.

Once he had that single layer back on, he snuggled up beside her and turned her facing away from him. Their legs slotted together and his arms held her pressed to his chest. Carefully their fingers wove together, and Wyn let out a sigh of contented happiness.

Remembering quickly, she reached over to set her alarm on the bedside table clock. Her aunt wouldn’t be home till extremely late, but she didn’t want to risk them oversleeping. Then she allowed herself to melt into the arms of her lover. Joyful warmth spread through her at the thought of that word. Lover.She could feel Sam gently tucking her hair out of the way so it didn’t touch the back of her neck nor his face, then she listened to the gentle sound of his breath. Before long, her eyes fell shut, knowing she was the happiest she ever remembered being.

Chapter Text

 

Winter break was at hand. Exams were done, much to the delectation of each student. Wyn waved farewell to David and Claire as they left the Biology room for the last time. Snow had started to fall, and was proceeding to cover the ground in a soft white blanket. She kissed Sam goodbye, him promising to call her later that night. Waving as Sam drove away in the Impala with his father, who was about to leave town again. Just in time, too. Weather stations had been predicting a terrible snow storm about to hit the area.

The young girl turned down the street headed toward the hospital just a mile up the road. By the time she reached the hospital, the wind had picked up. Cutting through her winter coat. She signed in on the visitor list, and headed back to Aunt Stacy’s area.

“Hey Melissa!”

A warm and slightly lined face, framed by long dark curls, peered up at her from the nurses’ desk chair. Melissa Hale was in her early forties and had started at the hospital just a few years before. Aunt Stacy had taken her under wing as the head ER nurse.

“Bronwyn! Good to see you. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, Sorry, this semester's been pretty distracting. How goes the saving of lives?”

“Bloody and smelly. How about you? I heard about your new gentleman friend,” the woman stood and met her on the other side, both leaning on the high counter. “Is he hot?”

“So hot!” Wyn pulled out her phone to show a picture on the tiny screen.

“Oh good lord those dimples! You could go swimming in ‘em.”

Wyn let out a laugh, staring fondly at the picture. “Yeah, and he’s so sweet and crazy smart! I can’t believe he fell for me of all people.”

“Stop it! You are a beautiful strong young lady blossoming into a stunning woman. Trust me. I’m a pretty good source on attractive women.”

“Will there be a future Mrs. Hale any time soon?”

“Oh you know, no one wants to settle down with an old maid like me.”

“Maybe you just haven’t found the right woman yet. Or maybe the right woman is just around the corner.”

“Bronwyn Sweetie!” Aunt Stacy came bounding around the corner and the two straightened. From the corner of her eye Wyn could see Melissa straighten her scrubs. “You ready to go?” She asked the young teen.

“Yup!”

“Great. Lemme just do one last thing and we’re out of here. You alright Mel?”

“Me? Yeah, yup. Great. All good here. You ladies have a good night. See you tomorrow, Stace!” And the nurse smiled brightly.

 

Within a few minutes, Wyn was pushing a cart down the aisles of a particularly crowded grocery store. Aunt Stacy in front of her, parting the crowd like a salmon going upstream. She was glad her Aunt was there with her. The matriarchal figure was fearless. She might have been a Christian, but she’d be damned if that little old lady thought she could steal the last two gallons of milk and bags of bread from their cart.

“People are animals! Good Lord!” Aunt Stacy let out a grunt when a young mother holding two crying children in her arms shoved by and one child’s shoe collided with her ribs.

“You alright?” Wyn cringed sympathetically.

“Fantastic. Come on. We need to grab a couple more things. Can you get TP then meet me up front?”

Wyns anxiety ticked up another notch, already high from entering the store. Alright sack up Wyn. The teen nodded, and turned the cart towards the aisle needed. She grabbed the brand with the little bears that Aunt Stacy always bought, and when she turned around she saw a middle aged man grabbing one of the packs of bottled water from under her cart.

“HEY!” The man quickly tucked it under his arm and ran down the aisle. “Fine asshole! Karma’s a bitch!” She shouted after the man making several judgemental glances turn her way.

Frustrated tears stung her eyes. Quickly, she took a deep breath and blew out through pursed lips. She shook her head. It didn’t matter, no need to get upset. The water bottles were just for backup, and they had plenty.

Deciding to push it aside, Wyn made her way to the front of the store, where lines were the longest she’d ever seen.

“WYN!”

She turned her head to see her aunt squeeze herself between two rather overweight gentlemen, and stumbled toward her. The older woman straightened, a proud look of victory on her face, and thrust her arms forward showing off the trophies in each hand. One hand a carton of eggnog and a bottle of Malibu Rum in the other. “The essentials!” The nurse declared proudly.

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“Ya finish that research for me?” John asked without taking his eyes off the increasingly snowy roads.

Sam pulled the folder he had prepared for his father's latest hunt out of his bag. He had to give his father credit. John was trying. Since he had started dating Bronwyn, his Dad seemed to have resisted arguing with him. There were times when Sam was sure they were about to have another blow up argument, but to his surprise John would back off and change the subject.

“Should have everything you need,” Sam explained. “Has about four different historical lore origins, but they’re all pretty similar. How to Kill is pretty standard. I also included all updated Death reports I could find.”

“Good. Now, I’m gonna drop you off at the garage. I’m leaving the Impala with you guys. My truck does better in the snow anyway. I should be back in time for Christmas.”

Sam rolled his eyes. It would be the first one in a long time he managed to show up for. But he didn’t feel like pointing that out. Pre-hunt John Winchester was not to be fucked with. Hell, a pre- coffee John Winchester shouldn’t be trifled with, but more so when he was prepped for a hunt. “Where was Bronwyn headed, by the way? I would driven her home.”

The question gave Sam a moment of whiplash at the sudden change of subject. “Oh, no, she was heading to the hospital to meet up with her Aunt. It’s just a half mile up the road. She insisted on walking. Wyn loves the snow. She said it’s like magic that makes everything clean and bright, and it’s like everyone has a second chance.” Sam laughed thinking of how giddy she had been when the white flakes started falling outside the window during their AP Bio Final.

“Sam,” John’s voice was slightly tight and Sam recognized that tone, “I actually wanted to talk to you about that.”

“About Bronwyn?”

“I know you two are getting... close. And I know that I caved, and agreed to let you finish school in one place, but-“

“But what?” Sam clenched his jaw staring straight ahead.

“You need to… be prepared for the inevitable. When the school year’s up, and she goes off to college… I know you may not want to hear this, but I don’t want you to get too attached. This life,” John gestured to nothing in particular, “she doesn’t need to be pulled into this. Maybe it’s better if you end things before—“

“Before what Dad!?” Sam turned his gaze sharply, “Before she gets hurt? Before you change your mind and pull me out of school? Before I fall in love with her?”

“I’m not trying to pick a fight...”

“You’re such a hypocrite! You raised us like we can’t let anyone else in. You’ve burned about every bridge you ever had, and this life? The whole reason you pulled me and Dean into this was because of Mom. And you loved her!”

“Sammy, that was different. Mary and I were married and happy, then she…” John’s voiced trailed slightly. Sam knew he was using memory of his mother to appeal to the last little bit of normalcy John clung to. It still made him sad to see his Dad look so broken. Even after 18 years. “What happened to you mother… I will never forgive myself. I wasn’t able to keep her safe. I wasn’t able to keep my family safe,” John’s voice adopted his drill sergeant tone, “And you want to bring someone you care about into this? Son, she has a chance at a normal life.” Sam felt his heart sink at his father’s words and their implication. John didn’t see Sam ever having a normal life. “It’s not fair to take that away from her. The job is important, and we can’t afford distractions.”

Sam held his tongue, knowing that anything he would say would just result in more arguing. The rest of the ride to Dean’s garage was filled with tense silence. Both the Winchesters knew this argument was far from over.

 

When they finally arrived, Sam practically jumped from the Impala, as soon as it was parked, and stormed off into the garage where he knew Dean would be. He took a seat on his normal stool at his brothers work space, waiting for John to hand the keys off the Dean. His brother peaked up from under the hood of a BMW he was working on.

“Where’s Dad?”

“Office, I think. Talking to Mr. Jefferson.”

Dean perceived his little brother with a curious look. When Sam entered the garage, Dean instantly knew something was wrong. Then, when his Dad went full on drill sergeant giving him orders for while he was out of town, Dean took the intuitive leap that they had been fighting...again. After seeing his father off, and the taillights of the pick-up were out of sight, he returned inside. He saw Sam still on his stool, his expression uneasy and pensive.

The older brother rolled his eyes and grabbed his wrench from the tool box on the ground, then he slid under the car on the rolling side plank.

“Alright, out with it.”

“Out with what?” Sam turned to his brother, brow furrowed.

“Come on man. you got bitch face. Somethin’s buggin ya.”

“I’m gonna tell Bronwyn.”

“Yeah? Tell her what?” Dean grunted as the bolt he had been working on finally loosened.

“About us. The life. Everything.”

Silence. Dean slowly appeared from under the car. Sam fixed him with a determined gaze. He wasn’t going to let his big brother steamroll him.  “Sam—“

“I can’t keep lying to her.”

Dean shot to his feat, his anger echoing in the empty garage, “Sam, if you tell her, what do you thinks gonna happen, huh? She’s gonna think you’re nuts. And then I’m gonna have to deal with your mopey loser ass.”

“You don’t know that. Not for sure.”

“I don’t care how much of a hard on you got for her--”

“That’s not what this is about!”

“IT’S NOT JUST YOUR SECRET!” Dean threw his tool down aggressively on the workbench close to him, “Me and Dad - the family secret! You know the rule, we do what we do and we shut up about it.”

“I love her, Dean.” Sam’s voice was pleading, slight fear laced the comment. Dean sighed heavily, broad shoulders heaving.

“Damnit, Sam… no. You can’t tell her.”

“Why not? She’ll believe me!”

“Okay, then, she believes you! Then what? She’ll want nothing to do with you, and run screaming in the other direction.”

Sam’s face fell. Dean had picked up on his biggest fear. Regular people when they found out either went into full denial or thanked them for saving their lives then went about their lives keeping out of the darkness in whatever way they could. No one willing ran towards that darkness. Evil. Chaos. Wyn was the warm light in a sea of monsters and nightmares.

“Sammy,” Deans sympathetic big brother tone surfaced, “Look, I’m sorry, man, but that’s the way it’s gotta be. Besides, it’s safer if she stays out of the life.”

Sam clenched his jaw and tore his eyes away from Dean. Knowing he had won the argument, even if it was with a low blow. He didn’t want to lose the one good thing in his life. He couldn’t lose her.  

.

.

.

Wyn sat on the sofa, fire roaring, in her pajamas. She unfolded one of the many fleece blankets the two ladies kept stuffed into every spare storage space in the house, wrapping it around her form. Aunt Stacy entered the living room holding two steaming mugs. “What’d I miss?”

“Nothing. Haven’t hit play yet. I was waiting for you!” Wyn grinned reaching for the caramel popcorn on the coffee table. They were having their annual watching of It’s a Wonderful Life . The TV mounted on the wall, surrounded by tinsel and garland that Aunt Stacy had insisted upon.

“Here,” The nurse sat cross legged on the seat next to her, holding out a mug. Then pulled it back slightly, catching her nieces eye. “Since you’re 18, and this is a special occasion, I put some rum in your eggnog!” Wyn’s eyes widened. This was only the second occasion she had been allowed alcohol. On her birthday, Stacy had let her drink a glass of a sweet moscato wine. Of course, with a mini-lecture on how alcohol abuse can destroy your body, but she wanted Wyn to be familiar with the feeling.

“Thanks!” Wyn quickly grabbed the cup, and took a sip, “Oh wow! That’s yummy!”

“And that’s why you only get one. It’s harder to gauge how much you’re drinking with the sweet stuff. It covers the strong taste.”

Wyn took another sip, and shook her head quickly, “Woo! Wow, yeah, I see why delinquency is tempting,” And reached for the remote to play the movie. Aunt Stacy reached out gently to halt her reach.

“Just a sec. I wanted to talk to you about something.”

The young girl gave her Aunt a funny look, not sure what it could be, “Okay…” She turned herself to cross her legs and face the older woman, “What’s up?”

Suddenly, Wyn saw her Aunt differently. The older woman sat before her, looking into her eyes with a melancholy smile. A messy bun on her head, her laugh lines visible in the firelight. “You’re growing up so fast… you’re smart, driven, kind…” Stacy reached out and tucked a loose hair behind Wyn’s ear. “You have such an amazing future ahead of you.”

“What’s this about?” She was starting to get concerned at her Aunt's sudden sentimentality.

“You and Sam have been getting close. Now, I don’t know how serious it is, but I need to know… Are you two having sex?”

“What?!” Wyn choked out in surprise.

“If you are, it’s okay, I just wanna know you’re being safe.”

“I--” the young girl wrestled in her mind what all she could tell her Aunt. This was brand new territory for the both of them. She finally spoke, her voice just above a whisper, “No… we haven’t had sex.”

Aunt Stacy took a deep breath and nodded, “I’m not gonna tell you to wait until you’re married… that would be hypocritical. But I do want you to wait until you’re really ready. I know how it feels, to get swept up in the feeling of being with someone else. Had my fair share of boyfriends… girlfriends, too.” The nurse winked disarmingly, and Wyn couldn’t hold back a small grin. “Sex is something you should share with someone you love. Someone that cares deeply about you. It’s vulnerable and intimate, it should be with someone who loves you for you.” Wyn couldn’t help, but smile at her Aunt’s words, thinking of how well they matched Sam. “But you have to be smart. Use a condom every time, and I would recommend getting on birth control. I don’t want you to be in a position where you have to sacrifice your future. And… when you do decide to be active, you can talk to me. You can talk to me about anything…”

“I know.”

“I’m so happy for you. Sam is a good guy. You deserve happiness.” Aunt Stacy leaned in holding Wyn close, and kissed her forehead. “I love you Snickerdoodle…”

“I love you, too.” Wyn smiled and felt warmth surround her. Life at that moment was perfect. Wyn reached for the remote once again and pressed play. Then the duo sat back, Wyn passing Stacy the popcorn, and snuggled up for their favorite movie night of the year.

.

.

.

The storm was one for the ages. At least that what the weatherman was saying. Storm of the century, apparently. Wyn peered out the window to see the snow, had now completely covered the ground and was already a few inches deep, with no sign of slowing down.

When she woke up, Wyn could already hear the wind howling. Her visibility didn’t go past the mailbox. Now her concern of losing power seemed more and more likely. Suddenly, she was very glad they stocked up on supplies the couple days before. If the power went out they would be okay. Their stove ran on natural gas, so they would be able to cook they’d just need to use matches to light the flame. Their water heater tank didn’t rely on electricity, so they’d have hot water. The central heat would die, but there was a fireplace in the living room and one in the master bedroom. Worse case scenario they would survive.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. And smiled seeing it was Sam.

“Hey! It’s really starting to get bad out there. How’s it there?”

“The entire building just lost power.” His voice was tight. “A bunch of our neighbors are already leaving to go stay with relatives that have generators before things get worse.”

Concern festered in her gut. The storm was just getting started. It was definitely going to get worse. Much worse. “Where’s Dean?”

“He’s helping his boss lock down the garage. He’s storing the Impala there during the storm. Mr. Jefferson said he’d give him a ride back since his truck has snow tires. Dean’s gonna be pissed when he finds out everything’s dead.”

“Does the building not have a generator? They’re supposed to, especially if everything is electric.”

“No,” the frustration in Sam’s voice was evident, “landlord said he’d been meaning to replace it, but didn’t get around to it before this storm hit. Of course, now all the stores are sold out.”

“You and Dean can stay here!”

“... really?” He sounded mildly surprised.

“Of course! It sounds like this storm could last for a while. Might be without power for a few days. I’ll call Aunt Stacy to let her know.”

“That… that would be amazing. Honestly, Wyn thank you!”

She blushed. “What? You think I’d let you guys freeze to death? I’m a pretty big fan of the non-icicle boyfriend that I have currently, thank you!”

She heard a soft chuckle on the other end. “Yeah, I guess not. Alright, I’ll call Deans cell, get some stuff together. And I guess, Corey can just take us to your house, since he’s right across the street!”

“Comin’ up roses! Text me when you’re on your way.”

.

.

.

“Man - Fuck Oregon!” Dean pushed past the open door, nearly knocking Wyn over in his hurry to get inside the warmth of the house.

“Dean!” Sam scolded, before reaching out for Wyn, “What he means is, Thank you for welcoming us into your lovely home!” Wyn laughed, and he gave her a quick peck.

“What he said,” Dean said shivering violently, sitting in front of the fireplace holding his hands and feet close to the warmth. His gloves and dripping boots laying next to the hearth.

“Come in, quick, gotta keep the warmth in while we still have central heat.” Sam hurried in, kicking off his shoes next to the entrance, and hanging his jacket on the hook on the wall. She turned smiling, then locked the door behind her. Sam shivered once, twice, then joined Dean in front of the fire.

“Seriously, though, Wyn,” Dean’s green eyes lit by the orange glow of the fire looked at her, expressing genuine emotion, “Thanks! We were screwed. I mean we’ve gone camping and it’s been cold, but never like this!”

“Mi casa es su casa!”

As of now, the power was still on in their neighborhood. Wyn had checked all their supplies, they had two cases of bottled water just in case the water heater failed and the pipes froze, tons of canned food, three loaves of bread, all the sandwich fixins, and plenty of stovetop options. Wyn even bought marshmallows. The buzzing of Wyn’s phone on the coffee table caught all their attention.

“Stacy?” Sam guessed.

“Yeah. I wasn’t able to get a hold of her earlier. Hospital must be slammed.” She flipped open her phone, “Hey Aunt Stacy, you get my message?”

“I did. And tell those boys to make themselves at home!”

Wyn smiled, “She says make yourselves at home.”

“On it,” Dean called rising to his feet heading for the kitchen. Apparently, the call of food was stronger than his need for a hot fire at the moment. At least the house was holding the heat well.

“It’s a circus here. Are you guys alright?” Wyn could hear the hectic sounds of the emergency room in the background.

“Yeah, Mr. Jefferson actually drove Dean and Sam over. Wind is picking up though. Do you think you’ll be able to make it home?”

“...I don’t think so sweetie. I heard they’re going to shut down the roads.”

“Shut down the roads? But how will you--”

“I’ll be fine sweetheart, don’t worry. The hospital has two back up generators, the cafeteria is stocked with plenty of food to keep everyone fed. Now, if there’s an emergency, I want you to go over to the Jeffersons. I want you to conserve your phone battery. Turn it on at noon each day for an hour, that way if we need to communicate we’ll know when to send texts. There should be plenty of wood out in the shed in case you lose power.”

“Actually, we might be alright.” There was click, the lights went black, and the sound of air flowing through the vents stopped. “Strike that - just lost power.”

“You checked the batteries in the flashlights?”

“Yup. Guess we’ll just have to hunker down and ride it out… do you--” Wyn checked the room and saw Sam had joined his brother in the kitchen. “Do you think you’ll be home for Christmas? I don’t know if I can…”

“... I know, sweetheart. I’ll be home as soon as I can. Call if you need, I’ll keep my phone charged. Those roll out cots are in the upstairs closet. Figured they might be more comfortable with the fireplace, instead of the guest room. But I want you sleeping in your own bed, you hear me?”

“Yes, Ma’am I hear you. Stay safe!”

“I love you sweet girl.”

“I love you, too.”

A soft click and the line disconnected. Wyn checked her battery life. 80%. Not bad. She turned off the phone to be safe, and entered the kitchen. Dean had made himself a sandwich that looked like something Shaggy and Scooby would eat. Sam was evaluating the pantry.

“Glad to see you made yourself comfortable,” she chuckled at Dean’s puffed out cheeks when he took a large bite.

“Hey! You schead thah--”

“I’m teasing Dean!” Sam chuckled, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter. “Well, boys. Pantry is fully stocked. I put all the perishables in the freezer, and there’s another freezer in the garage. As long as we don’t open them a lot it should insulate the cold. Shed’s got plenty of wood, but we’ll have to cut the spare logs. Should be good for a while though, I brought in enough wood to keep us going for the next day or so.”

“You brought in all that wood?” Sam asked.

Wyn held up her palms showing a few bandages on her fingers, “Got the splinters to prove it. So… anyone up for Monopoly?”

 

The rest of the evening was spent in comfort and conversation. Dean and Bronwyn engaged in a lively debate over whether or not Billy Joel was indeed considered rock. Which led to Dean perusing the record collection from Aunt Stacy’s college days.

“Dude! Your Aunt has the original “White Album”?! Holy Hell, Led Zeppelin 1-4! I am officially in love with Stacy Evans!” He declared proudly to the room. Wyn and Sam smiled affectionately at his child-like excitement. They made tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches on the stove top for dinner. Dean had taken it upon himself to brave the elements and cut some more wood, before dark.  

When they all began yawning in tandem, Sam helped Wyn bring down the cots for the Winchester boys to use, along with a huge stack of blankets. She tucked extra pillows on top of the stack, and carefully maneuvered down the stairs.

“You ain’t joining us?” Dean questioned, noting just two cots.

“No, I told Aunt Stacy I’d sleep in my own room,” Wyn explained, exchanging a knowing look with Sam.

“And you’re actually going to?” Wyn nodded smiling. “Aww, look at you Good Lil’ Christian girl!” Dean teased playfully, she just rolled her eyes. “Good Night Dean!” She turned toward the stairs, and Sam accompanied her.

“You’re sure you don’t wanna stay down here?” Sam’s eyes did that puppy dog look he always used when he was trying to get his way. “We can use each other for warmth.” His smile suggestive.

“Aunt Stacy trusts me. If she wants us in separate beds, then so be it… for now.”

“Okay,” he pouted, over exaggerating his lower lip. “Good night.”

“Good night, Sam,” Wyn leaned in, pressing their lips together. The tall boy pulled her body close, arms wrapped around her waist. Their lips moved sweetly with each other. Sam tongue lapped over her bottom lip, teasing his way in her mouth. She grinned into the kiss, before tearing herself away.

Sam gave her a final pleading look, she shook her head, and turned up the stairs. In her room, she fixed the bedding with the quilt Stacy had made for her when she was little. Her eyes flickered to her vanity, her gaze locked onto the gold pocket watch she had been keeping in her locker. She had brought it home for the break. A sad feeling washed over her, before shaking it off, not wanting the day to be tainted.

She snuggled under her covers, wrapping up in her cocoon of blankets. Within minutes, her eyes felt heavy and she fell into a peaceful sleep… at least it was peaceful to start.

.

.

.

Bronwyn’s scream pierced the night, and Sam bolted upright. Deans motion matched his own, his gun already cocked and ready. Sam grabbed the iron poker from the side of the fireplace, and they both raced upstairs. Sam got to the door of her bedroom, grabbed the knob and found it was stuck, and refused to budge. Wyn’s cries still coming from inside. The younger Winchester kicked the door open with a shot of adrenaline. His eyes immediately shot between a terrified Bronwyn and the male figure standing at the foot of her bed, arm extended out towards the young girl. The figure flickered.

“Sam it’s a ghost!” Dean hollered from behind him, then Sams reflexes swung into action, bringing the fire poker over his head and swinging it down hard slashing through the spirit. Then the figure disintegrated into blackish grey smoke.

“Wyn?” Sam looked at her, and she was shaking. In an instant he was at her side, holding her, “It’s okay, you’re safe. You’re safe, I got you.”

“Sam, get her downstairs!” Dean ordered, already picking up the iron weapon from the foot of the bed, and carefully examined the room prepared for any more apparitions.

“Wyn, I need to you to follow me,” Sam stood holding her, her eyes frozen with fear still locked at the empty space the ghostly figure had been occupying. “Come on, let’s get out of here,” he whispered encouragingly. His words finally stirred her to action. Wyn managed to grab her warm robe before Sam rushed her out the door and down the stairs. He made a beeline for the sofa, the fire starting to die down.

Taking action, Sam sat his love down, and quickly wrapped a spare blanket over her shoulders, before adding two logs to the fire.

“Wyn, Look at me,” he took her head in his hands, gently brushing her face out of her face, “are you okay?”

The young girls eyes full of questioning horror, “It was… was that--”

“A ghost,” Sam confirmed.

She shook her head fervently, “No, that’s not-- it’s not possible.”

Deans heavy steps sounded down the steps, entered the room the iron poker still in hand down by his side, “Looks like it’s gone for now, but it’ll be back.”

Wyn looked between the brothers in fearful disbelief, tears rising up, “What’s going on?”

“Well, Sam, you get what ya wanted, ghosts are real, hun.”

“No…” she shook her head in weak denial.

“Yup, and ghouls, and werewolves, and a whole bunch of other things that go bump in the night.”

Wyn turned her gaze back to Sam, the only rock in a sea of utter terror.

“He’s telling the truth. Dean, me and our Dad… we hunt them. That’s the ‘family business’ I don’t like to talk about.”

“You hunt them? Like the freakin’ Ghostbusters?”

Dean smirked at his brother proud of the analogy, and Sam chuckled, “Sorta, only less crossing the streams.”

“So that… he was ghost?”

“Yeah, he was,” Dean said lowering himself to one knee in front of the duo, “but ghosts usually only haunt the place they lived or died. Did anyone die in this house that you know of?”

“I… I don’t know. I don’t think so…”

“But if he died here, then why just show up now?” Sam reasoned, “Can you remember what he looked like? Any details?”

“I know him, -- knew him at least.”

“Who was he?” Sam asked gently, still attempting to soothe and comfort her.

“His name was Greg Mills,” her voice laced with sadness. Up till now she had been in denial, still hoping for the best.

“Wait, that janitor that went missing?” Sam’s face was perplexed, “Why would he be haunting you?”

“I don’t know… it was like he was trying to say something, and he was reaching out to me, I don’t think he wanted to hurt me… he was always really nice to me. Sometimes we’d talk when I stayed late in the library.”

“You were friends with the janitor?” Dean asked, not trying to mask his judgement.

“Okay, yes, I’m a loser. That’s been established. Why would he want to haunt me?”

“No clue,” Dean pondered, “but the way to get rid of a restless spirit is to salt and burn the remains.”

“But they never found his body,” Wyn said shaking her head, “he’s been missing for months, and police have no idea what happened to him. I thought… I was hoping he was still alive. I wanted to give him his watch back…” she lowered her gaze and stared at her hands.

Sam and Dean exchanged surprised looks and turned to the young girl expectantly, “His watch?” Dean inquired rather impatiently.

“Yeah,” she continued giving them both odd looks, “his gold pocket watch. I found it at school a couple months ago, and… I don’t know-- I was holding onto it for him. He doesn’t have any family.”

“Wyn, is that watch still at school?”

“No. I was worried about it getting stolen over break so I brought it home for safe keeping.”

“Where is it?” Sam pushed.

“In my room. On my vanity.”

“You think?” Sam looked to Dean.
“That’d be my guess,” Dean stood upright and charged upstairs, presumably to get the watch.

“We have to destroy the watch,” Sam stood as well, going straight for the kitchen.

“What? Why?” She tailed him trying to play catch up to the brothers.

“Sometimes,” Sam spoke as he searched through the cabinets, “a spirit can attach itself to an object. Usually, it’s something that was important or personal to them when they were alive. Got it!” He pulled out the large container of salt. “His spirit must have attached itself to the watch, and when you brought it home, he came too.” Sam rushed back to the living room, with Wyn right on his heels. Dean was already standing before the fire with the watch in hand.

“Let’s light it up!”

“Look out!” Wyn cried seeing the figure of Greg Mills behind Dean. Suddenly, Dean was flung back knocking the sofa over on its back. The watch clattered to the floor.

“DEAN!” Sam charged, and he too was thrown, and pinned against the far wall. In the blink of an eye, the ghostly figure wrapped his hands around Sams neck. Sam clutched at his arms trying to pry them off his windpipe.

Wyn was panicking, but then she saw the watch laying in front of the fireplace. Her eyes darted to the salt container on the floor. She grabbed the salt and ran to the fire place. Thinking quickly she threw the watch to the fire, poured salt into the palm of her hand and tossed it into the fire. Turning around she saw the look of shock on the ghostly form of Greg Mills, he dropped Sam, and reached his arm out to Wyn. Just like he had upstairs. His mouth formed like he was trying to speak, then a horrible screech erupted from his throat and he went up in flames.

Then there was nothing.

Wyn could hardly believe what had just happened. Sam stood hand to his throat coughing, rubbing the skin of his neck. Dean groaned rousing back into consciousness, and rose to his feet.

“A-are you guys alright?”

“Aces,” Sam scoffed out.

“Golden,” the older Winchester rubbed his head, having knocked it pretty hard, “Wyn, where’s your aunt keep the good stuff?”

 

Dean had poured two fingers of bourbon into three glasses, and passed the two extras to Sam. Wyn retrieved the first aid it from under the kitchen sink, and Dean’s minor cut on his head, had been tended, too. Sam peered at Wyn with trepidation. She sat on the now upright sofa, staring into the fire. The melted remains of the pocket watch charring. Sam took a seat next to her, wordlessly offering her the glass.

Wyn, peered at the drink, debating. Then took it and downed the glass, she grimaced. Then, handed the glass back to him.
“So you hunt monsters?” She turned her body to face Sam, and he mirrored her movement. Dean must have sensed their energy, as he made himself scarce, retreating upstairs under the guise of making sure everything was clear.

Sam nodded, lowering his gaze. As if he was afraid to look at her. “Yeah… I’m sorry I never told you.” Wyn just continued to gaze at him, like she was trying to figure something out. “And hey, I get it if...you know, if this is too much.”

“What are you talking about?”

“If you don’t want anything to do with this. With me.”

“Are you crazy?” Sam tilted his head resembling a confused puppy. Wyn shook her head, “Why would I not want anything to do with you? Yeah, this is… a lot . But I’m not walking away from you.”

The smile that broke across his face was heartbreaking. She pulled his face to hers, and kissed him deeply. “In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m crazy about you, Sam Winchester!” She smiled brightly, and his eyes glassy returned the emotion. “I do have a couple questions, though…”

“Anything!” Eager puppy rising back to the surface.

“Does this have anything to do with Halloween?”

“Ah, yeah,” Sam nodded his head, remembering the drama. “Dean and I were hunting a werewolf. We figured out it’s trail, and it was right where the students were camping. Luckily, only Wendy and Mike saw it. It knocked Mike out and almost got Wendy. We got there just in time.”

Wyn’s eyes widened. Synapses in her brain fired away as the memory pieces fell into place. Everything made much more sense.

“Have you always known about this stuff?”

“Not always… found out when I was about eight.”

“Eight?!”

“Dean was four… It was… our Mom was killed by something. My Dad found her. He still doesn’t like to talk about it. All we know, is that whatever it was set fire to my nursery. I don’t even remember, I was still a baby.”

A chill settled over Wyn. It had nothing to do with the storm still raging outside. “Fire?”

“Yeah,” Sam’s brow furrowed at the unnerved look on her face, “you okay?”

“I don’t believe it. He was right…” Tears stung the young girls eyes, her lip wobbled.

“Wyn, you’re scaring me.” Sam took her hand between his, rubbing slightly. She held his gaze apprehensively.

“You’ve heard what people say about me at school, right?” Sam’s jaw tightened, face going neutral telling her all she needed to know. She figured he had tried to ignore the rumors, but it was high school. Gossip was unavoidable. “That my Mom died, and my Dad… went crazy?” He didn’t say anything just nodded curtly. “The night I turned six months old, Christmas Eve.” Tomorrow, 18 years ago. “A fire broke out in my nursery, too. Dad, apparently ran in, but it was too late. But what he saw… he said that Mom was pinned to the ceiling - burning. He grabbed me, but he saw it, the thing that… claimed he saw what started the fire. He told the police it was a monster…”

Sam’s eyes were wide, shaky breath passed through parted lips. His form shaking. Wyn sensed the gravity. It was as if the universe had been preparing for this very revelation. Something much bigger was at work in their lives.

“A monster?” Sam asked, his voice shaky.

“I never knew why he thought that, that maybe he just blamed himself. Everyone thought he was just crazy with grief. Then… I don’t know. He really did start to lose it. The state took me away from him. I got put in the foster system for a couple months. They institutionalized him. Aunt Stacy had to fight for custody. By then, Dad was completely gone psychologically. We visit him usually at least once a year, but… I’m not even sure he knows we’re there... Or who I am.” Tears stung her eyes and she took a shuddering breath.

Sam swallowed visibly, his adam’s apple bobbed. “Oh my God…”

“And now… it looks like my Father was right all along, and you tell me something similar happened to your mom—“

“Not just similar, the same.”

“What?” Wyn felt her gut fill with lead.

“Exactly the same. The fire, ceiling, the nursery... Wyn, I think the same thing killed our mothers.”

“Sam, what the hell is going on?” They were both shaking.

“I don’t know…”

Not knowing what else to do, she dove close to him wrapping her arms around his waist, and buried her face in his shoulder, “Sam, I’m scared.” Sam just held her. No words of comfort, to not be scared, because she could feel it. He was scared, too.

“I gotta tell Dean.”

Wyn tensed. The thought of more people knowing. The looks she always got. Things would never be the same again. She had found such relief through Sam, and by extension Dean. They treated her like she was normal. Not some pathetic little orphan freak.

“I can do the talking,” he whispered into her soft auburn hair.

“Do we have to?” Her question full of meekness.

Sam took a long breath, choosing his words carefully. “Wyn, this is big. And in a way it kinda involves him to.” He had a point. “Besides, we can ask Dad for help. He’s been hunting this thing, and searching for answers my whole life. If the same thing killed our mothers, then maybe…” The silence lingered.

She could almost hear the hopeful words trapped within his heart. Find it, and kill it. Nodding, she pulled away to look into his hazel eyes. A plethora of emotion reflected back at her, as well as questions. What did this mean? Was it just a coincidence… Or something deeper?

“How do you do this?”

“What do you mean?” He titled his head in confusion.

“I mean this life. Monsters. Ghosts. Demons. It’s all, so... does it make you happy?”

“I,” Sam stopped. “When we save people, it feels good. Great, even. I mean, knowing that we save lives, kill evil things… it’s important, but I’ve wanted something else for a long time.”

“You want to go to school. To go to Stanford.” She finished his thought, knowing the desire for more he carried with him.

“And maybe , if we can find this thing… maybe it’ll be over. Maybe I can have a life. A life where I’m not constantly searching through coroners reports and monster lore, a real apple pie life.” His eyes locked on to hers. “A life with you.”

Wyn let out a soft laugh, and tearfully beheld him. “I trust you.” And she did. Wholeheartedly.

Sam clenched his eyes shut, hand darting to the back of her head, and tangled in her hair. He pulled to press their foreheads together. “Wyn… Wyn, I —“

“So Bronwyn, You crazy kids talk it out?” The teens turned surprised at the older Winchester’s sudden entrance. Dean’s gaze darted between the two. “What’s wrong?”

“You should sit down, Dean.”

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Chapter Text

Dean sat in awe of the earth shattering revelation. Before him sat the two scared teenagers, dimly lit by the fireplace. They meekly stared at him waiting for his response. Honestly, he couldn’t land on either dismissing it all as a coincidence or freaking the fuck out. And really, who was he kidding? With their luck, it wasn’t just a coincidence. His thoughts raced, one hand rubbing his face halting over his mouth, a tense breath escaping.

“Wow… okay, um…” Dean shook his head, leaned forward and rested his head in his hands. How the hell was he supposed to process this? His whole life, Sam’s whole life, his job had been to protect his little brother. Look after your brother, Dean! It had been drilled into him, since that fateful night. He had to protect Sam. And now… Bronwyn. He didn’t need to be told to look after her. The strong desire to keep her safe should have surprised him, but, just seeing the effect she had on Sam’s life was enough to dissuade any doubts. But how? How was he supposed to protect them from this?  

Sam exchanged a nervous glance with Bronwyn his arm wrapped around her. “We have to tell Dad,” Dean spoke finally able to articulate, “obviously this isn’t something I can explain over the phone, but I’ll tell him to finish up his hunt as quick as he can. When he gets back we’ll all talk together,” His green eyes fell on Wyn, her knees bouncing, fingers clenching into the fabric of her cotton pajama pants. Sam reached around and placed his hands on hers. Dean’s lips curled up on one side. At least they didn’t have to face this alone.

“Wyn, did your Aunt ever talk to you about what happened?”

“Just what she knew, and that wasn’t a lot. When my mom was killed, Aunt Stacy was finishing her nursing certification. She wasn’t even able to make it to the funeral. By the time she was able to come back to Kansas, Child Protective Services had already taken me away from my dad, and he was just saying exactly what I told you. That something had killed Mom, something not human.”

Dean exhaled, eyelids closed. He and Sam were actually lucky in that regard. Things could have gone completely different for them. All it would have taken, a simple phone call, and they could have been taken away from their father. He had heard horror stories of siblings being separated not able to find each other until years later. The thought made him nauseous. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it,” he reassured her sensing the fear rolling off her in waves. “Is there anything we can do for you?”

Bronwyn sat quietly, clinging to Sam thinking. Her eyes meekly met Dean’s, “There’s one thing.”

“Name it.”

“I want you guys to teach me about all of this. This monster stuff. I want to be prepared if I encounter something else.”

“Wyn,” Dean spoke with gentle warning, “it’s not just what you know… You saw me and Sam. We nearly got our asses handed to us, and that was just an angry spirit. You could get hurt.”

“Then teach me to fight!”

Dean exchanged an amused glance with his little brother. Yeah, Dean liked this girl.

 

Wyn slept in the living room with them the rest of the night, deciding her aunts request didn’t apply post-ghost attack. She curled up on the cot next to Sam. Dean heard their quiet whispers just above the crackling of the fire, then eventually, the steady breaths and gentle snores that came from them. When morning came, the eerie silence of snow still surrounded the home, though it seemed the storm had passed. While the older Winchester prepped omelets for everyone, Sam and Wyn had retreated upstairs, not being at all subtle at their desire for privacy. He took as long as possible to give them as much time as they needed.

After much previous pestering, he managed to pull from Sam that they hadn’t slept together... yet. But judging from the way they couldn’t keep their hands off each other, Dean knew it was just a matter of time. Brotherly pride swelled within him at the thought of Sammy finally gettin’ some. But more than that… he was happy Sam found someone he could depend on. Sam needed to have more than just Dean in his life. When the two teens descended the stairs, having changed and showered (he noted he only heard the shower turn on and off once), Dean excused himself to bathe as well, after Wyn told him where the towels and extra toiletries were.

The welcome sensation of hot water raining against his shoulders was a relief. Significantly better water pressure than in the townhouse apartment they were currently calling home. He allowed himself the brief respite, letting his mind wander. Though he had managed to keep it together fairly well in front of the two, his mind hadn’t settled from the startling revelation of the night before. He didn’t know how was even going to begin explaining this to Dad. Knowing John Winchester tended to react poorly when it came to danger to his family. Something deeper in Dean, like a pit in his stomach, he knew, just knew, that this was bigger than just some monster wreaking havoc. This was evil, and it wanted something...

Once he had towel dried his hair, and he heard the calm voices from downstairs he retrieved his phone from the bathroom counter. He pressed the call button after selecting the number from recently dialed. Unsurprisingly, his dad didn’t answer. Then the voicemail tone beeped.

“Dad. It’s Dean. Um…” he drew his hand down his face, “we’re all good here. Powers still out, all safe. But Uh, well… something happened last night. No biggie just a restless spirit, but it appeared in Wyn’s bedroom. So she kinda knows… everything. She and Sam talked and… as it turns out, there might be a connection between the thing that killed Mom, and Bronwyn’s mother. Not sure what it means, but I wanted to give you a heads up. Her Aunt is still in the dark. Wyn isn’t gonna say anything… just get back as soon as you can.” He flipped the phone shut, with a snick, ending the call. Then he let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding.

When Dean returned to the living room, hair still slightly damp, he saw the two young lovebirds sitting in front of the fireplace their omelettes next to them with playing cards in hand. Apparently, Sam was teaching Wyn the rules of Texas Hold ‘Em. Holding back the comment that Sam didn’t exactly have the best poker face, he quickly grabbed his own breakfast and joined them. Bronwyn was actually not terrible at poker, for a newbie anyway. She managed to win a decent number of hands, before Dean busted her out, followed shortly by Sam. Though, he had to commend her poker face, and her uncanny ability to tell when he was bluffing.

A knock at the door drew their attention. Wyn answered it, smiling upon seeing Corey Jefferson, and what Dean assumed was his daughter. Molly, if he remembered correctly. Mr. Jefferson asked if Sam and Wyn could watch her while he went to go check on the shop.

“I’ll come with,” Dean announced already lacing up his boots.

“Thanks, man. Alright Princess, you be a good girl. I’ll be home soon, and remember Mommy’s resting so don’t bother her okay?”

“I WANNA BUILD A SNOWMAN!” the volume of the tiny girl surprised Dean slightly, as was the energy she seemed to be buzzing with. But he shrugged it off with a chuckle, zipped up his jacket and followed his boss to the truck. Chains still on the tires, much to his relief. Before they’d even pulled away he saw Sam showing Molly how to build the strong base of the snowman. He couldn’t stop the warmth spreading through him at the sight, remembering he taught Sam the exact same technique. Granted he hadn’t learned it from their father. Of course not. John Winchester wasn’t a man that had time for things like playing in the snow with his kids.

The older mechanic let out a soft chuckle, “I’m afraid Molly’s gonna make Sam build a whole family of snow people!”

“Ah, Sam won’t mind. He learned from the best,” sticking his chest out proudly.

“So there is a little bit a of childhood there, huh Dean?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Dean’s green eyes scanned the main road ahead, freshly plowed, “My Uncle Bobby managed to squeeze some happy memories in there.” He suddenly remembered his 10th birthday. John had been off on a hunt, and once again hoisted Dean and Sam off at Bobby Singer’s home. Dean had tried to not let it show that he was disappointed his dad didn’t call to wish him a happy birthday. So the crotchy man had thrown a couple oversized coats on the boys, and took them out to play in the snow… he had even bought a pie knowing Dean’s preference. “You said Shawna’s resting? She not feelin so hot?”

“Ah, well, I guess I fill you in, Shawna’s pregnant!”

“No kiddin? Congrats man!”

“Thanks, brother. Bit of a surprise, we weren’t exactly trying, but,” he shrugged his shoulders not taking his hands off the wheel, “God has a funny way to springin things on ya when ya least expect em.”

Dean let out a short puff of cold air through his nose. Probably best he kept his opinions to himself. “Know if it’s a boy or girl yet?”

“Nah, dang kid had their legs crossed during the ultrasound. The tech couldn’t tell.”

The young man laughed, “Modesty’s a good trait, I hear.”

Before long they pulled up to the garage, parking the truck on the street where the snow wasn’t as plentiful. They took time examining the outside of the building, looking for damage for the storm or any signs of break-in. Then once inside, Mr. Jefferson grabbed two big snow shovels and huge bags of road salt, handing one of each of them to Dean.

“Let’s get workin’ Winchester. Wanna be able to open first thing day after tomorrow.”

“What if it snows more?”

“It’s not expected to anymore. Plus, with the salt that’ll prevent the driveway here from freezing over in the night.”

The work went quick enough with just the two of them working. A couple hours later they made their way back. Dean saw a few more people out and about, mostly folks with vehicles equipped properly for snow and ice, but occasionally they passed by someone stuck in the snow. They didn’t have to stop and help as all the ones they passed were already receiving aid from a neighbor. He really didn’t know how people handled this weather. He wasn’t exactly picky, he could handle cold, but this intense? Wasn’t his first choice by any means. Give him a hot sunny day to work during with the garage door open and he’s happy.

When they pulled into the cul-de-sac, they saw two pretty sturdy snowmen and what looked like a wonky…

“Is that a ballerina?” Dean quirked his head.

“I can’t believe they managed that!” Corey shook his head impressed. After stomping the snow and ice from their boots, Dean opened the door. He peeked in and saw Sam and Wyn sitting opposite end of the couch with Molly sprawled out over Sam’s lap asleep. A barely touched game board of chutes and ladders on the coffee table. The exhausted looking father did a silent fist pump at the sight of his child passed out from playing. “Yes, naptime for Daddy.” He quietly crept over maneuvering to pick up the little girl, with help from Sam so as not to jostle her awake. “Thanks guys!” He whispered, “I owe you big. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas!” They echoed quietly. Dean locked the door behind them. Once again the home was quiet. Wyn rose to her feet offering to make some stovetop hot chocolate for everyone, which of course Dean and Sam happily said yes! And for the rest of the day, Dean enjoyed the time with his brother and the newest addition to his family. Cause, honestly, if Wyn had found out all their dirty little secrets and hadn’t hightailed it on the next bus out of town… we’ll, she was family as far as he was concerned.

They all managed to agree upon self serve sandwiches for lunch and all cups ran over with hot chocolate or eggnog. Despite all their concerns, it was almost like a normal Christmas Eve. Dean couldn’t remember the last time he had seen Sam genuinely happy this time of year…

The rest of the evening was spent in content quiet. Almost as if they weren’t harboring some earth shattering secret. But they were, and if Dean could keep Wyn and Sam distracted enough to enjoy themselves, then all the better. Because at the end of the day, Family was everything. At least to. Winchester.

Christmas morning heralded them with the return of power. Lights flicked on in the living room, and a woosh sound signaled the central heating kicking on as well. Wyn was snuggled up soundly next to Sam. Both the brothers blinking awake slowly. Dean looked to the corner and admired the tree. First one they had that was more than a foot tall… and a real tree at that.

When Dean rose to his feet, stretching and rolling out the kinks, Wyn stirred.

“Mmm,” she rubbed her eyes, “Merry Christmas guys… the powers back on!”

“Yeah we noticed,” Dean said with a smirk. She gave him a look… Damn her bitch face could rival Sammy’s.

Sam laughed warmly. Then Wyn’s eyes got big. “We have to make gingerbread cookies!” She leapt to her feet, and beelined to the kitchen, “Aunt Stacy always makes them on Christmas morning. And we can’t open presents until the cider is ready! And then we need to--” her voice continued from the kitchen leaving Dean and Sam to exchanges confused, albeit amused, looks.

For someone who had such a horrible tragedy on Christmas, Wyn and her Aunt seemed to have a lot of traditions. Sam was already in the kitchen asking what ingredients they needed. Wyn started talking a mile a minute, gestured grandly, eyes sparkling brighter than the twinkling lights on the tree. While they were both distracted, Dean managed to sneak out some meagerly wrapped items and placed them conspicuously under the tree, before joining them in the kitchen.

 

After a thorough mess had been made, gingerbread men were baking in the oven and cider simmering on the stovetop. The blissful aroma filled the household. Wyn had turned on the TV and selected the channel with what she deemed the best Christmas movie marathon. Just when Dean was going to propose they open some presents, the sound of the front door being unlocked alerted them all. The door opened to reveal Stacy, holding a bag, “MERRY CHRISTMAS!”

“AUNT STACY!!” Wyn jumped and practically ran to the nurse, wrapping her arms around her tightly, “I can’t believe you made it home!”

“Well you can thank my Christmas Angel for that…”

Before any of them could ask, another figure stepped into entryway. John Winchester knocked the snow from his boots and grinned, “Heya boys!”

Dean couldn’t believe it. Dad was actually there -- on Christmas! There was a shuffle as the two took off their heavy coats and shoes covered in ice and snow. Then, once everyone was seated in the living room, Stacy explained, “The roads were starting to clear a bit, but my car wouldn’t have made it. Lucky for me, John here, called saying he had gotten back to town early this morning. So he picked me up from the hospital and now we get to have a big family Christmas!”

Warmth blossomed in Dean’s chest as the woman’s words. Family… The Nurse stood, asking his Dad what his poison was.

“Whiskey straight, would really hit the spot,” the Winchester patriarch grinned, dimples showing through the scruff on is face. Stacy nodded with a matching smile, and went to the bar table in the corner preparing the drink, while Wyn talked her ear off. About how they got through the storm, the day before building snowmen, that she learned to play poker and the news about their neighbors pregnancy. All mentions of ghosts, monsters, or childhood conspiracies carefully omitted.

Deans gaze met with his fathers, who signaled they needed to speak in private. He stood, heading for the entryway. Close enough to see the action in the living, but away from listening ears.

John crossed his arms, regarding his eldest with a serious look then asked him “Care to clarify your cryptic message?”

“It's complicated. But we should talk about here,” his eyes flickered to the corner where Stacy stood with her niece. “So Bronwyn knows, but not her Aunt.”

“Right.”

“Well, I gotta talk to her.”

“No -- Not yet, please…” he looked over to Wyn, who had returned to her spot next to Sam. They sat close to each other snuggled on the sofa. “Let ‘em just enjoy the day, huh?”

John nodded with a soft expression, “Alright, I hear ya. Later. After all, it’s Christmas!” He clapped Dean on the shoulder, “Let’s celebrate proper this year, huh?”

Dean breathed in relief, nodding his consent. They re-joined the group, as Stacy placed a plate of hot gingerbread cookies on the coffee table, then extended a glass filled halfway with amber liquid to her guest. John thanked her.

“Sooo presents?” Wyn asked practically bouncing with joy.

“Excellent idea Bronwyn,” John responded much to Sam and Dean’s surprise. Then their surprise grew, when John pulled out two envelopes and handed them to both of them. “Open ‘em.”

Sam exchanged an almost disbelieving look with Dean, who just shrugged, and opened the gift. “Sweet - Hockey tickets!”

“Yup,” John beamed proudly, “Taking you boys next month. Rink side, up real close and personal! And here, Wyn, I got something for you, too,” He passed the young girl a box wrapped nice enough that Dean could only assume a store clerk must have wrapped it. She pulled back the paper, and smiled brightly.

“Wow,” her fingers drifted down the leather bound book, “this is gorgeous!”

“Sam told me you’re a bit of a reader, but I figured everyone needs a place to keep important memories. I keep a journal myself. Saw that and thought of you.”

“Thank you!”

“Yeah, thanks Dad!” Sam rose to thank him properly, when John pulled him for a tight hug. Dean saw the surprise in his brothers face, then the happy resignation when he returned the embrace firmly. They weren’t exactly the hugging kind of family, so Sams surprise was well founded.

“Thank you, sir,” Dean’s voice was low. John pulled away from Sam, and placed his hand on Dean’s shoulder once more. He looked down at his son with pride and affection. What the hell happened on that hunt? He couldn’t stop the cynical thought, but immediately pushed it down.

“Also,” John turned to their kind host, “I wanna thank you for giving my boys a safe place to crash!”

“Of course! Our door is always open to the Winchester clan,” the Nurse smiled throwing a wink in Wyn’s direction.

“What can I give you to help cover the cost? I know that a teenage boy metabolism is hard to keep up with,” he spoke pulling his wallet from his back pocket.

“No. Don’t you dare,” The woman gave John a pointed look, “I don’t accept money for doing the right thing. If you try, we’re gonna have a problem.”

John’s face shifted to the ‘if you say so’ concession, his arms raised in surrender after placing his wallet back in its place.

 

The unassuming group continued to exchange gifts. Sam unwrapped his present from Dean, revealing a gorgeous money clip with his initials engraved. Dean was just a little bit pleased with himself at Wyn’s surprise when opening her gift from him. He knew the girl was obsessed with those books about magic and wizards and stuff. So, he managed to find two books that were supposedly connected to the story she loved. Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them and Quidditch Through the Ages .

Wyn explained giddily to everyone, that one of the books was purportedly a textbook at the magic school and the other was supposedly a book on a sport involving flying on broomsticks. Dean didn’t really follow the details, but he was glad to see the young girls joy.

Sam had gone the romantic route and gotten Wyn a leather corded necklace with a pearl in the middle, with a silver charm with an engraved symbol. Dean recognized it as a symbol for love and protection. Wyn gave Sam a rather nice watch, engraved on the back. The older brother didn’t ask what it said, but he assumed something mushy. The two lovers kissed, prompting Dean to make a gagging noise in mock disgust at the sappy situation. The two gave him unamused looks. Matching bitch faces , his mind supplied.

The last gift given was from Stacy to Wyn. Wyn started crying when she opened the small white box. “It belonged to her mother,” her aunt explained lifting a silver charm bracelet from the box and maneuvered the bar and loop latch around Wyn’s shaking wrist. It had only a few charms: a cross, a crescent moon, and a small crown. “After everything, I saved that. Most stuff went to goodwill, but that’s special. Your Mom wore it all the time.”

“Thank you,” Wyn said tearily, and threw her arms around the woman. Dean kept silent, but exchanged a knowing glance with Sam. The painful memory of her mother was probably raw at the moment. Much to Dean’s relief, the nurse rose to her feet and the moment passed.  

“Alright… music! We need music,” Stacy declared. Near the front wide window, was a side table holding a record player. To the left in a bookcase, was a collection of records that Dean had taken the liberty of skimming through their first night there. The first edition vinyls from some of the best bands in history. It was enough to make a man cry. John objected to her first selection, but they settled something they could both agree on.

Stacy pulled the record from the sleeve, and placed the needle carefully starting The Beatles’ White Album. Soothed by the music, the day was about as perfect as possible. The adults continued to partake in bottles of Christmas cheer. After a while John flipped the record to side two, as Stacy shared stories from the chaos at the hospital over the past couple days. Then, a certain song started making Wyn and Stacy to exclaim in unison, “OUR SONG!”

The older woman sang along, “ Blackbird singin’ in the dead of night ,” she spun Wyn around, “ Take these broken wings and learn to fly,” the two continued singing in unison.

Dean observed the rare sight before him. The fireplace going strong, while lights twinkled on the tree. Sam and their Dad laughing, Wyn dancing with her aunt and singing along to their song. A perfect image he was afraid might shatter if he looked too closely. Thinking back, this was the first truly happy Christmas, the first he could remember feeling so surrounded by family. It was… Home.

Hmm, Dean thought with a bittersweet smile, there’s a first time for everything...

Chapter Text

The day after Christmas, John managed to get Sam and Wyn alone long enough for them to explain the past few days in great detail. While she had been extremely anxious to share everything with John, Sam and Dean insisted that he would know what to do. While she went on about her family’s tragedy, the hunter kept a stoic expression. Listening intently, committing every piece of information to memory. After unloading everything, Wyn had to admit she did feel a little better.

Finally, after a long line of questions filling in the blanks, John asked. “Your father. His name is Thomas Evans?” She nodded in confirmation. “Huh… I’m just realizin’ something. What was your Mom’s maiden name?” John asked.

“Walsh. Liddy Walsh.”

“Of course.” John shook his head, “Since you two met, I’ve been scratchin’ my head trying to remember why your name sounded familiar. Liddy and Mary were friends back in the day.”

“What?!” Sam and Wyn blurted out.

“Yeah,” John nodded sadly, “But they fell out of touch just after Mary’s parents passed. We stayed in Lawrence, you’re parents left Haleyville and moved to that farm outside Topeka. Didn’t hear from ‘em after that. It’s been such a long time, and I honestly hadn’t thought about them in years.”

The pair blinked. Then looked at each other, unsure how to react to the news. It seemed their history was significantly more intertwined than they thought.

“Hey. I don’t want you two worryin over this, alright? I’ve been hunting this thing for years. Got some contacts I can reach out to… this is all just pieces of the puzzle. The more we know about what happened back then the closer we got to ganking the damn thing.”

“Do you have any idea what it was?” Wyn asked hopefully. It didn’t matter really, she knew that. But for so long, she had thought her father lost his mind, just because of grief. She wondered though… what would things have been like if Dad hadn’t talked to the wrong people, if she hadn’t been taken away. What if he had become a hunter like John?

“Coupla theories.”

“What theories?” Sam practically demanded.

“I’m gettin there. When I know something, you’ll know,” John gave them a soft reassuring smile. “Just keep your head low, focus on school, and Sam here,” he nodded proudly at Sam, “he’ll watch out for ya.”

Wyn looked into the eyes of the young man she had grown to depend on. His eyes soft, searching for any sign of fear or doubt in her eyes.

“I know he will.”

For now, they would have to wait. Sam told her he was going to keep her safe. And she was gonna fight to keep him safe, too. Whether it meant getting him out of the life of hunting, or jumping into the deep end with him. She would follow him to the ends of the Earth. It was almost as if she and Sam were meant for each other… and, boy, did that scare her.

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Sam tilted his head curiously. “Is everything alright?”

Wyn’s head turned startled to him, “Huh? Yeah, why?” He peered oddly at her from across the table they had claimed in the library.

Starting with their new semester, they managed to get their free period at the same time. Along with AP Latin and Honors Anatomy & Physiology. The free period was at the end of the day. Most students with that final free period would just call it an early day and go home. Sam and Wyn however enjoyed the quiet of the library. It was a time for them to work on their current assignments, or just pleasure read while enjoying each other’s company. Weeks into the new year, they managed to spend a great deal of time around one another. Despite her fear of her own emotions, she felt pulled to Sam like gravity.

The result of spending all their time together, Wyn thought about little else besides her tall, hazel-eyed lover. His eyes. His lips. The way she felt when he ran his hands all over her body. And oh good Lord , the dreams … they were growing more and more intense. Every morning that week alone, she had woken with fresh arousal dampening her panties. That very morning, her hand was shoved down them, in between the folds and legs clenched tightly. Each time, Sam’s name lingered on her lips.

“You just seem distracted,” Sam spoke concernedly, then chuckled, “You haven’t turned a page for, like, 15 minutes.”

That’s because she was distracted. An inner battle going on between her head and her heart. She looked down, and blinking slowly at the page of her Anatomy textbook. “Right. Sorry, just… thinking about after school. Got some errands I need to take care of.” Wyn flipped the book closed, conceding she wasn’t going to retain any of the information anyway.

“But we’re still on for tonight right?” His grin wide and beaming.

Our 3 month anniversary. It was the Friday after Valentine’s Day. And it had been three months since their first date. The day before, Sam had surprised her with a small bouquet of daisy’s. And told her to make sure she was free Friday evening for a nice dinner. He was taking her to the nicer Italian restaurant in town, Vitello’s . Well, technically, she would be picking him up. They had worked out that she would use the car, he would pay for dinner, and she would pick up a movie rental to watch back at his place.

“Yeah,” she returned his smile, “we’re definitely still on. I just need to go pick up the car from the hospital, get some things from the store, then I’ll head home and get ready.”

“Good,” Sam said with mirth in his eyes, “prepare to be romanced.”

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Wyn stood in the aisle of the drugstore that always made her nervous. She stared at the boxes with various labels. Ultra Thin, Ribbed, Lubricated, Magnum… fidgeting, her eyes scanned down the aisle making sure no one she recognized could see her. She had, honestly, thought about grabbing free ones from the hospital, but there was too much of a chance someone would pass that information on to Aunt Stacy… Even though she had told Wyn, she could talk to her about anything, including this, it just wasn’t a conversation she was ready to have.

Compelling herself to move, she snatched the box she eventually deemed best off the shelf, and held it close to her left side. She turned her head to look back at the end of the aisle as she scurried away, only to run into someone.

“I’m sorry I--” her eyes grew wide, “Principal Snyder!” Subtly, she tried to move her left hand more behind her, out of view.

“Miss Evans,” his eyes scanned her up and down, darting to her left hand. “How are you doing? Not feeling ill I hope?”

“Me? No. No, no not all I, um… just needed to pick up some,” she reached out blindly with her right and grabbed a box of, “laxatives…” she read the label her face burned hot with embarrassment, “Heh… ya know. Digestion troubles, ha-ha, well I uh, should get going,” she managed to squeeze past the school principal, and walked quickly to check out. Leaving the laxatives on the side of check-out when no one was looking.

The nervous teen paid for her supplies then rushed outside, feeling like she was being watched. Once she buckled her seat belt, and the box of condoms was safely in her purse, she breathed in relief. Her head lolled back against the headrest, and gripped the steering wheel trying to calm herself. Now she just needed to stop by the movie rental store, then get home get dressed. “I can do this.”

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Wyn knocked at the door of the Winchester abode. Winter snow was melting, and only lingered mostly in the shadiest spots. She pulled her overcoat tighter, and adjusted her purse, patting it lightly.

“Sam?” She called out, only to see the door open, to reveal a very dashing looking Sam. She saw under his coat he wore a tie and black button down shirt, with dark jeans.  “Wow, check you out!”

“You look amazing,” he smiled, pulling her in for a kiss. Then he shut the door behind them. Sam was going all out. She giggled when he bowed deeply, and holding out his hand for her to take. “Shall we?” he held out his arm for her to take.

“My, my, such a gentleman!”

“I told you. You are going to romance tonight. Dinner by candlelight, dancing, music. Only the best for my girl.”

Wyn’s heart skipped and cheeks warmed at the affectionate term. Sam then insisted on driving, since he wanted everything to be officially date night. From there, it was only about 10 minutes away. The ride there, their hands clasped whenever Sam could get away with only one hand on the wheel. Eventually, they pulled into the parking lot and saw it was quite full. It being a Friday night, it was no surprise.

Thankfully, it didn’t take long to find an empty space. Once they were parked, Wyn moved to get out.

“Wait! Stay put for a sec…” Sam quickly got out and hurried around to the opposite side of the car, opened the door, and held out his hand, “Milady.”

“Oh thank you kind sir!” Smiling, she took his hand and got out of the passenger's seat. He was certainly going all out. Sam shut the door behind her, and locked the car. The restaurant’s outside featured a tuscan villa inspired design. Upon entering the restaurant, they saw a collection of vintage wines behind the host stand, a man wearing a nice suit waiting to greet them.

“Good evening,” the man standing behind the pedestal. “Do you have a reservation?”

“Yes,” Sam straightened his coat in an official manner, “reservation for two under the name Winchester, my fine fellow.” He winked sideways at Wyn, she had to suppress her laughter. The host rolled his eyes slightly, but didn’t seemed too annoyed, “This way please, I’ll show you to your table.”

The lighting was soft and subtle. The room was wide and open. Round tables scattered around with booths lining the walls and corners of the space. By the front, there was a small group of stringed instruments with a few couples slow dancing in a space next to them. Normally, musicians weren’t a staple at Vitello’s , but they had been hired on for Valentine’s weekend. In all honesty, Wyn was relieved he had chosen this restaurant. It was a nice place, without being insanely expensive. The last thing she wanted Sam to do was spend money he didn’t really have to spend.  

When the host, led them to their table, they both removed their coats, and draped them on the back of the chair. Wyn turned to see Sam staring at her. His eyes slowly looked her form up and down, “Wow.” She grinned proudly, smoothing the wrinkles from sitting in the car. She wore a long sleeve black dress down to her knees, paired with dark brown leather boots. After taking as much time as she did getting ready, she had to admit the look on his face was worth it.

Sam pulled out Wyn’s chair acting the gentlemanly role, and helped her scoot in. Very awkwardly though. To the point the two were laughing by the time he sat, and they had been left alone with their menus. Candles decorated each table. Looking around Wyn could see other couples surrounding them. Soft smiles, gentle touches, loving gazes on each faces. She peered across the warm dimly lit table at her closest friend. There wasn’t any place she’d rather be.

Their waitress was a lovely middle aged woman, who took their orders, after filling their glasses with water. Sam ordered the ‘grilled shrimp with angel hair pasta, in a garlic and white wine reduction’, whereas Wyn ordered the ‘tuscan tomato bread soup with steamed mussels’. Waiting for their food, they enjoyed each other’s company, and easy conversation between them.

The evening was perfect. Their dinner arrived in record time, and they both admitted it was delicious. Jovially they savoured their food, offering each other bites. Followed by light debate about whose was better. At the end there wasn’t a scrap left on either plate. When their waitress returned inquiring if they were interested in dessert, Wyn almost said no, not wanting to add onto their bill. But Sam requested a slice of Tiramisu. The waitress nodded, clearing their plates and returned to the kitchen.

Sam stood, suddenly, and held out his hand once more, “Might I have this dance?” His dimples popping madly.

“Really?”

He nodded. Man, Sam wasn’t kidding when he told her she was going to be romanced. Wyn breathed out shaking her head lightly at his antics, but took his hand all the same. Slowly, he led her to the spot by the musicians where others were dancing with their partners. He turned their bodies to face each other, took her right hand in his left, and wrapped right arm around her waist. Their bodies pressed lightly together, she was able to comfortably reach up and hook her hand on his shoulder, despite the significant height difference.

The music was soft and gentle, and they began swaying side to side. Wyn gazed longingly into those hazel eyes she had loved from the beginning. He was regarding her with a look that was hard to interpret, but it was filled with care and adoration. For a couple minutes, they were content simply to hold each other close, eyes locked gazing into the soul.  

“Tonight has been amazing, Sam. Really, just perfect,” she uttered for only him to hear as they continued to slow dance.

His lips turned up coyly, “It’s not over yet.” Then he leaned down brought their lips together, kissing her passionately. She moved her lips in tandem with his, her heart pounded rapidly. When they parted, the kiss left them both breathless.

“You are a rare breed Sam Winchester.”

Sam released short puff of air on a laugh, “Come on. I think our dessert is ready.”

The two returned to their table, and shared the slice of moist coffee flavored cake. They let out twin moans as the spectacular flavor melted in their mouths. Within minutes, the cake was gone, Sam paid their bill, and they put their coats back on to leave.

Sam pulled her close once more, and pecked her lips, “Are you ready to head back to my place?” Nodding wordlessly, she followed him out. Now came the part she had been preparing for. The moment that all the build up and anxiety was leading to. But she wanted it more than anything…

 

“So… how long do we have the place to ourselves?” Wyn stood in the living room of Sam and Dean’s apartment, as Sam locked the door.

Sam gave a crooked grin and blushed, “Uh, Dean is actually with Dad on a hunt. Some poltergeist thing in Montana. They won’t be back till Monday.”

“Oh, okay. Good.” They exchanged bashful, but knowing looks. Sam went to lay their coats over the chair by the window, and grabbed a blanket he had pulled out just for the occasion. While she excused herself briefly for the restroom, then returned shortly. Earlier that day, when Wyn stopped at the movie rental place, she initially just picked one. But then realized she should probably consider ‘boy’ movie interests. Even though watching a romantic movie on their anniversary made a lot more sense. But in any case, she chose two movies. First, she held up the one she was really excited about, Moulin Rouge.

“Does it have singing?” Sam asked, scanning the brightly colored cover, looking none too pleased at the prospect..

“Yes… But it’s kinda like a jukebox musical.”

“Jukebox musical?”

“Yeah,” she explained, “They use mostly popular music, and tie it into the plot… I heard it’s good…” Sam looked at the cover skeptically again. Wyn conceded, “If you really don’t want to watch it I got another movie. Something about potheads losing their car.”

Sam let out a laugh, and looked at her fondly. “Tonight, is about romance. Yes, we can watch the chick flick.”

“Yay!” She clapped her hands with joy, and popped open the DVD player. Before joining Sam on the couch, she removed her knee high socks stuffing them into her boots by the door. Then made herself comfortable in his arms, and pulled a blanket over them as the movie started.

 

“Wow… that’s a super depressing ending.” Sam commented. “But I liked it more than I thought I would.” Wyn, her head resting on his chest, sniffled. “Wyn are you crying?”

“They were finally together!!!” The young girl sat up wiping her eyes and choking on a half sob. “They were so in love, and they were so close. They were gonna be together forever! Now he’s all alone...”

“Aww, baby,” Sam held her close, loving how adorable she was reacting over the sad ending. She had cried at sad movies before, but this seemed different. “It’s okay. It’s just a movie…”

“I know. It’s just… I don’t know. Makes me think about—” she stopped.

“Think about what?” Sam straightened with sudden concern.

Wyn took a shaky breath, “The future. About after we graduate,” she lifted her gaze, “I’ll be in Washington and you’ll be who knows where… and I’ve never had something like this before. I’m not ready for this to end.”

Sam didn’t say anything at first. It was something that had come up a lot lately. They still had a few months, but their future was looming. And Sam knew deep down, at some point he would have to make a decision. Stanford had extended the acceptance deadline for him. When he talked to the admissions worker, they said he had until beginning of May to confirm, otherwise they would offer his scholarship to another student.

“I know…” his voice soft, “I still have a lot to figure out. Talking to my Dad being the toughest. But you should know,” he beheld her with a sincere look, “Whenever I think about my future? You’re always in it.”

Wyn’s heart swelled. “Me too.” Her fingers fiddled with the fabric of his shirt, mulling, trying to choose the right words. “I just… it seems like you’ve let your Dad control every aspect of your life. No one else can tell you what to do with your future but you. What do you want? Sam, you deserve happiness.”

“You make me happy,” Sam cupped the side of her face and stared lonely into her eyes. Pouring every ounce of sincerity he had in him, “Wyn,” he swallowed and licked his lips nervously, “I love you.”

Everything in the air changed. Suddenly, Wyns vision tunneled, anchored in the bright hazel sanctuary of Sam’s eyes. The North Star in a sea of fear and uncertainty. She realized in the back of her mind she wasn’t breathing, and the sound of blood pumping and rushing in her ears drowned out the music still playing from the tv.

The implications of those three sweet, beautiful, perfect, exquisite words were overwhelming. Their future was so uncertain. Neither of them knew what to expect beyond the next few months. She was terrified of the day that they might be forced to choose between one's happiness for the other. To allow such a vulnerability, to open ones heart to pain… But a voice in her subconscious whispered, you don’t really care if you get hurt, do you? All that matters… is Sam.

When her eyes began to water after the long silence, Sam’s brow creased in concern and fear, “Wyn, please… say something?” He looked as if his heart might shatter at any moment.

“You love me?” A single tear fell from the brim of her eyes, the rest of her vision blurring.

Sam nodded meekly, “Can you... I don’t know say something else? I’m starting to get really nervous here.”

Wyn jumped to her feet heart racing. Her mind raced and it was taking all her focus to regroup herself in the moment. She was still reeling from the emotional impact of their conversation.

“You don’t feel the same way...” Sam looked down sadly.

“This is absolutely crazy.” Wyn, in her own little world of freak out, was having trouble articulating what she was feeling. Obviously, it wasn’t helping calm Sam down either. The two began talking over each other.

“I knew it was stupid--” Sam muttered.

“There’s so much that we can’t plan for--”

“-- With all that’s happened to us lately--”

“Even if you get out of hunting there’s no guarantee we’ll be together--”

“--- You knowing about hunting was one thing, but with all this conspiracy with our families—”

“I mean I’ve looked into transferring, it wouldn’t be that hard…”

“It’s no wonder you’re scared of me.”

“I'm just scared,” she stopped pacing, “because, of course I love you!”

Sam's head shot up staring at her, his now watery eyes hopeful again. “What?”

“I love you. I do.” They stares at one another, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Sam said concern alleviated. His gaze filled with slight amusement at her near hysterics, now that his initial pain of rejection was passed...

“Isn’t that crazy?” Wyn started pacing back and forth again. “I mean, we’ve only been together for three months, and we just met a month before that! Then there’s the thing with our Mom’s which is still freaking me the fuck out. Plus, we got physical real fast, and I had never even kissed a boy before you. I haven’t regretted anything we’ve done, obviously, that’s been amazing. But how? How is that we already love each other? We’re only 18, I mean, how can we possibly know this is the real thing?”

“Because I know you, Wyn. I know you inside and out. And you know me.”

“...We don’t know everything about each other.” She wasn’t even convinced with her own argument.

“I know you only eat chopped salads, cause you hate seeing the individual vegetables. Same with salsa, smooth not chunky. I know that, even though you’re obsessed with Harry Potter , The Hobbit is your favorite book. Because your Aunt told you your Dad read it to you when your Mom was pregnant, and after you were born, even though you would never remember it. I know that you love the sound of a violin, even though you’ve never played. I know that you are an amazing person,” he took her hand, and cupped the back of her head gently, “You are generous and kind. You always want to help other people before yourself. And I know that, even when you’re terrified, you’d stand up to defend someone even if you would never defend yourself.”

“Sam…” Words failed her.

“Don’t be scared. Whatever we have to do, I’m going to fight to be with you no matter what. Don’t be afraid of us.”

“I’m not afraid of us. Never. I… when I’m with you I feel like I could take on the whole world.”

“I know what you mean. I can’t explain it. It’s like… do you believe in fate?”

“...Yes.” Unequivocally, she knew. Fate brought her Sam.

“You and I? I feel it Wyn. This is real. This,” he moved her hand to his chest, “is the way it’s supposed to be.”

Wyn raised herself up on her tiptoes, and pulled him down for a deep kiss. Their mouths moved in desperate fervor. Tongues pushed their way into each other’s mouths, teeth biting just a little harder than normal. Fluttering and heat filled her core. She knew it was destiny. She felt it.

“Sam, I—“ her own moan cut off as Sam held her body flush against his own, licking  and teeth scraping lightly on her milky neck. “I want you. I want you to… make love to me.”

His movements stilled, with the exception of his heaving chest. Sam raised his head from the crook of her neck. “Are you sure?” Eyes searching, his resolve close to crumbling. Behind it, she could feel the animalistic desire.

“Please, Sam.”

Wyn brought their lips together once more with uninhibited assurance. Giving every last iota of ‘yes, yes, yes’ she had, pouring into their kiss, knowing it couldn’t possibly be enough. She could already feel Sam hardening. The knowledge that she was the reason, the one who made Sam vulnerable and wanting, made her giddily drunk. A short squeak sounded from her lips when she felt Sam lift her into the air. Instinctively, she locked her legs around his waist, desperately grinding against him. Sam started blindly down the hallway, carrying her, refusing to separate from her until absolutely necessary. He paused only briefly pressing her back against his bedroom door. Thrusting his narrow hips up, pressing their groins, a fire building rapidly in her lower belly.

He managed to open the door and lock it behind them, before heading straight for his bed, kneeled and laid her down a bit hastily. She laughed, feeling beyond euphoric. Sam grinned, “Sorry,” he managed to say as he positioned himself above her, kissing her more gently.

The young girls breath was coming in short breaths. Eager with anticipation. Her skin felt electric at the feeling of his hands roaming her body. Heart pounded against her ribcage. Then, she felt long fingers move under the hem of her dress, and lifted her arms and upper body instinctively. Sam lifted the garment over her head and dropped it to the floor.

Wyn, nerves flying out the window, followed suit doing the same to him and pulled of his collared shirt and undershirt. Like every time before, she released a small sound of appreciation at his form. Lean muscle, fine lines defining his stomach and traced each one delicately with her fingers. She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and gazed up into Sam hazel eyes. The sight of lust and dark wide blown pupils drove her further, she parted her legs and felt his hips settle between them.

Sam rolled his hips, the friction from the fabric releasing a groan from them both. Base, raw desire took over, as he dove back to resume his early actions, sucking a deep mark of possession just above her collar bone. Her arms wrapped up and around digging into the sinew muscle, rubbing with earnest. She brought one hand to tangle in his hair, lightly scratching the scalp and locked her lips on his ear. Rolling the earlobe between her teeth, tongue teasing and lips sucking.

“Oh, God!” Sam cried, and Wyn grinned. She had figured out it was one of his sensitive spots. Their groins continued to grind and drive, wanting, needing more.

Reaching between them, she worked at undoing his belt frantically, “Off!” She pulled the belt from the loops and undid the button and zipper on his pants. He aided her, removing his pants with swift movements, then with great care peppered soft kisses from her neck, down to the pearl and protection charm on her necklace resting in the small divot at the base of her neck. Then, trailed down her middle. She lifted her back again, and he slipped his hands beneath her. Eagerly, he unclasped her bra from its place and discarded it, a lusty look painted his features. He resumed his kisses, taking time to worship each breast with equal adoration. Then lingered on her stomach, until she calmed her motions, and peered up at her wordlessly checking in. Finally, Sam removed her panties.

She nearly became antsy once more, feeling the heat of his palms against the skin of her thighs. But the look in his eyes brought her confidence to the surface. Taking his sweet time, he explored. Lips dancing over the surface of her milky legs, gradually making his way towards her entrance. The young girl twitched, eager for what was coming. Sam nipped gently at her thigh, and grinned mischievously when she let out a little yelp.

“Tease,” She grinned at him. Then, Wyn felt his long fingers drag softly over her outer lips, causing her to arch her back. She gasped, and pressed her hips lower, letting him know how ready she was. He halted momentarily to admire the vision before him.

“So beautiful…”

Her cheeks flushed further at the compliment. Her arms place out, bent at the elbow, she reveled in the exposure. Never could she remember ever having felt so desirable, so bewitching, so… erotic .

“Please, Sam, I want— touch me!” There she lay, unclothed and vulnerable. She followed his eyes soaking every curve, taking in the full picture of her naked form.

“So fucking beautiful…” Sam leaned over to kiss just above her pubic bone, then at long last he began pleasuring her. His fingers rubbing her most sensitive spot, starting off soft and slow. Her fire building up inside. Once he could feel her readiness, he lowered his head between her legs. When she felt his tongue brush against her entrance for the first time, she cried out, “Fuck!”

Sam paused, “You good?”

“Do that again!” Her command drummed up the baser side of Sam Winchester. He saw her and wanted nothing more than to make her scream in pleasure. Resuming his motions with vigor, he ran his tongue around her clit, his fingers pumping in and out.

Wyn panting, reached her hand down, slotting Sams hair between her fingers. She clutched desperately without pulling too hard. God bless that long hair. His soft locks tickled the inside of her thigh, while Sam performed magic, making her experience new levels of ecstasy. When he added a third finger, she keened loudly.  

There were sounds in the air mixing with her moans of pleasure. Suddenly, she realized the sounds were coming from Sam, greedily licking and sucking her clit. Grunts and breathless sighs escaped his lips. He was getting off on eating her out. That astounding revelation, combined with the sudden stimulation on the spot inside her with curled fingers, released her orgasm like river bursting through a dam. Stars crackled in her vision. Her walls clenched tightly, pulsing around Sam’s long digits. It took massive restraint to prevent her thighs from squeezing too tightly, while Sam continued too languidly taste her juices. Meanwhile her toes curling into the sheets.

“SAM!” her heart pounded, every muscle in her body quivered in delight. Sam hadn’t let up, coaxing her through her climax. Wyns cries and moans of ecstasy were music to his ears. Eventually, he could sense when the overstimulation kicked in and pulled back.

The auburn haired teen peered at him, panting wantonly, “Come here…” Wyn managed to grab him at the shoulders and pulled him up to face her. His lips glistened with the evidence of her pleasure, and a fresh heady sense arousal overcame her as she kissed his lips fiercely. A groan rumbled in her chest at the taste of herself in his mouth. “You are so amazing!”

Sam grinned happily at the praise. Then, their eyes locked and the energy shifted. Wyn recovering from her own high, pressed Sam by his hips to lay on his back. “Your turn.”

It was Sam’s turn to quiver in desire. Wyn kissed along his clavicle and down the center of his chest, taking a moment to tease each nipple lightly with her tongue. By the time her lips had trailed to the hairline, Sam was shaking.

Wyn began by taking his length in her hand. Knowing what she needed to do. She moved her palm slowly up and down the shaft, squeezing ever so slightly. Her eyes peered up, and she saw his flushed cheeks and glazed eyes. Then, tentatively, licked the head of his cock. Sam hummed in appreciation, his breath coming in short puffs through his nostrils.

Feeling encouraged, her lips opened and she took the whole tip in her mouth. Her tongue traced the outside before teasing the slit. All the while her hand moved up and down the thick member. Suddenly, instinct took over. She took more of his length into her mouth and sucked greedily, bobbing her head up and down. Like he was nectar from above. She worked her hand even though her fingertips didn’t quite reach all the way around, while sucking as much of his length that she could take. Her mind jumped to later when he’d be inside her in another way, but refocused on the current task.

Sam moaned out, “Yes, baby just like that!” His chest heaved, while his hands held her cherry brown hair back gripping tight. Gradually, his hips began to raise slightly in time with her movements. She could feel it in the back of her throat and she instinctively relaxed her muscles and took him further down.

“Fuck, fuck — Wyn!”

With great enjoyment, she moved her tongue along the underside of his cocked, while he fucked her throat. Then she hummed, the vibrations stimulating his sensitive head.

“Woah, oh God, hold on…”

Her lips wetly popped off the head, and a feline grin painted her face. Her eyes watered from exertion, but she licked her lips happily.

“Up here,” He beckoned. Wyn maneuvered to his side, and snuggled against him, face tucked into his neck. Almost a little embarrassed at her performance. So slutty and desperate. “Jesus Christ,” he gasped, “that was amazing.” He praised her in awe.

“Yeah?” Her heart piqued, self consciousness eased. Honestly, she had listened to her own instincts and how Sam’s body reacted. Actually she’d been worried she had gone overboard.

“Seriously,” he place a hand beneath her chin, and raised her face to meet his gaze, “fucking phenomenal.” He kissed her with all the love he could muster, “I just didn’t wanna come so soon…” He grinned, “I nearly--” then his eyes grew wide. “Shit!”

“What?” her face shifted.

“I,” his shoulders fell in shame, “I don’t have anything. Any protection. I checked earlier and Dean ran out of condoms, and— not that I was expecting anything, I mean I’d hoped that—” Sam sighed disappointed, “I’m sorry.”

Wyn bit her lower lip blushing, and averted her eyes, “I, um, came prepared.” He titled his head, curiously, in pure Sam Winchester fashion. She nodded towards the bedside table. He furrowed his brow, questioning, but reached over to pull open the drawer. Clearly visible was a collection of condoms that she had stashed there earlier, during a detour from the bathroom.

“Wha-how did— did you buy a variety pack?”

“I wanted to be prepared,” she replied meekly.

He kissed her fiercely, immensely happy she had more forethought than him. Then Sam retrieved one condom from the drawer. He sat back on his heels and opened the foil wrapper carefully with his teeth, and held the latex in his hand. Checked to be sure it was in the right position, then rolled it down his length halting at the base.

Then he returned his attention to the positively gorgeous vision before him. He leaned forward between her legs, and pressed their chests together. With one hand he braced himself and the other he reach to intertwine his fingers with hers.

“Hey,” he whispered, “Are you okay?” He nuzzled his nose against hers. Blue-green eyes fluttered shut, as she shook slightly.

“Y-yeah, I want to, just a little nervous,” Wyn chuckled anxiously, “I mean, you’re definitely bigger than average, not too much, but you know what I mean. Just… sorry babbling. Just go slow okay?”

“I got you. Just talk to me. If you want to stop or if I’m hurting you, just say…”

She placed a hand to his cheek and raised her head and brought their lips together for a sweet kiss. “I trust you.”

“I love you, Wyn.”

“And I love you!”

Sam brushed the hair from her face, kissing her deeper. Then with their lips still pressed together, he moved and entered her slowly. The head of his cock barely penetrating. Her sharp inhale halted him.

“I love you so Goddamn much,” Sam spoke softly, and soothed her through her pain. His core shaking, he refrained from thrusting madly into her warm entrance. Her face contorted and she pressed her thighs against his sides.

“I’m so sorry, love, I’m sorry it hurts…”

“I’m — I’m good. Just stings a little. Keep going.” Thankfully she was still well lubricated from Sam’s earlier activities. Wyn groaned in discomfort again, and he stopped once more, allowing her to grow accustomed to his size. As hard as it was to restrain himself, he didn’t care how long it took. He wanted her to feel as much pleasure as possible. “Just keep your eyes on me okay?”

Their eyes locked, in an existential connection. Immeasurable. Spiritual. He took his time repeating his movements. Thrusting gently and only about halfway. After a few moments, Wyn began to feel her body begin to accept his huge size, and little sparks of pleasure began building within her core once again. All the while their lips hovered close brushing against each other, air passing through in gasps.

“Mnf,” She released softly as all she could feel now was the pleasure of Sam moving within her. Stretching her wide in blissful rapture, tears sprang to her eyes at the profound intimacy. Ready for more, her hips rolled to meet his gentle thrusts. Moving slightly quicker, signaling her encouragement.

“Ohh, you feel so good baby,” Sam's voice low, barely above a whisper. Breathy moans echoed each other. “You wanna try something?”

Wyn nodded, biting her lip. Sam pulled out, and maneuvered them onto their sides before he laid back. Then he guided her to straddle him. From where he was propped up against the pillows, looking up at her red flushed cheeks, kiss swollen lips, and cherry brown hair falling messy waves around her. She was intoxicating.

“This way you can control everything.”

She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth before setting herself to task. She propped herself up bracing her arms against his pectoral muscles, and lifted her hips up. Sam grabbed his length and guided it once again to her entrance. Feeling the tip slick up and down over her, she slid down enveloping him. A cry sounded from her throat. The new angle provided stimulation to the spot above inside her, and she couldn’t get enough. Eagerly, she began to rock her hips in the rhythm that made her heart race. From this position Sam could thrust his hips up into her without penetrating too deep, since she had control. His hands switching between caressing her soft breasts and holding on her beautifully curvy hips grinding her hips against his own.

Wyn lowered herself as much as she could, then leaned forward to rest her upper body against his chest, while supporting most of her weight with her arms pressing into the pillows. Then, as Sam continued to thrust his hips growing more frantic, she hooked her ankles over his shins, her own legs splayed out pressed into the mattress. From this position, she could feel him deeper than she had before, but also prevented him from thrusting his full length too hard. She wanted to feel him let go.

Louder she praised him, and begged for more. Sam all too happy to oblige moved his hands from her hips to wrap around her waist locking her in place. He tucked his head into her neck, and let go. Fucking madly into her.

Wyn screamed his name as his hips pistoned away, pleasuring her in a new mind altering level. Suddenly her walls clenched down tight, and she was slammed with the beginning waves of her second orgasm. Heat spreading to all her extremities. Tingling coiling deep inside her core. Then she tilted her hips down toward his, and ground her clit against the base of his cock. Her slick making the sounds of his thrusts all the more delicious.

That final motion cracked open the climax. Ecstasy pulsing through her violently. Her entire body shook. She clung to Sam for dear life, doing all she could to not fly off into space. “Sam, please, fuck-ohh, please,” not certain even what she was begging for. But Sam knew, bringing their lips together, for a kiss bone achingly deep. Not letting their lips part as she enjoyed the full extent of her orgasm.

Soon she was nothing more than a whimpering, rather pleased, mess, still holding tight onto her paramour. Sam, slowed then halted his movements, then held her close with his left arm, and rolled them over so she was on her right side. He on his left. Then he hooked his right arm under her left knee, spreading her hips wide and plunged once again inside her, resuming his powerful movements.

“So good, so good…” Wyn uttered her lips brushing against his lips. “You make me feel so good. Can’t get enough of you. The way you feel inside me.” That seemed to trigger a new wave of raw passion, as Sam snarled and pounded mercilessly into her tight wet pussy. “Yes, oh God, Yes please — come for me Sam! Please oooh God!” The sound slick skin slapping together, rang out.

Sams jaw tightened, muscles strained, and eyes shut. Wyn saw a line of sweat drip down his temple. She slotted her fingers into his hair, and brought their foreheads together. Feeling Sam chase his pleasure. Then his hips thrust sporadically, and he moaned out in pure unabashed pleasure. The feeling of climax after so much build up and holding back, hit him so hard when he opened his eyes to look at her, his vision blackened. Only feeling as he continued to ride his orgasm, shaking uncontrollably and he held her tight. Rope after rope of come filling the latex reservoir.

Hips stuttered after several moments, the peak of pleasure having passed. Carefully, Sam pulled out, both shuddered at the sudden loss. He then lowered her leg, then turned to remove and discard of the condom properly. After he retrieved a clean hand towel from the top of a stack of laundry, he gently wiped the juices of their coupling from between Wyn’s thighs. Relieved to see no blood after, he then used the other end to wiped himself off.

Impatiently, she reached up pulling Sam down to be with her. Both sported blissful smiles found only with those who have found their… love. Their true, soul-binding, for-all-eternity, love. Wyn felt overwhelmed and bit back happy tears.

“I love you, Sam Winchester.”

“I love you, Bronwyn Evans... with everything I am.” He replied.

All that was left in the wake of of their first time, lay the two young souls. Knowing, in a way no normal person can know for certain, that they belonged to each other. That something, whether is was God or fate, they didn’t know or care, made them for the other. They were oblivious, however to how this would mark the start of many trials they would be forced to endure.

.

.

.

Principal Snyder, or rather the thing wearing his meat suit, parked several blocks away from the local park. He wanted to remain inconspicuous, but he knew he needed to inform his master of what he had seen. The Winchester boy and Evans girl were moving much faster than expected… Azazel was not going to be happy.

There wasn’t much that angered his father more than someone messing up his carefully laid plans. Snyder walked casually through the night, melting snow crunching under his feet on the sidewalk. When the dim lights at the entrance of the park came into view, he grinned with malicious intent. Near the tree line he could see a vagrant seeking shelter from the wind, bundled against the harsh cold.

The demon sauntered over, after glancing around and saw there wasn’t another soul around. When he was within a stone's throw the homeless man peered up. Holding out a cup.

“Spare some change, mister? Wanna get a bowl a’ chili from Missy’s .”

He crouched and stared curiously at the filthy man, disgust rising within him. “You humans are so pathetic. It’s astounding really.”

The filthy creature stared confused as they all did, then his eyes bulged wide and clutched his throat. Desperate to stay alive. The demon filled the gauntlet letting the now limp corpse fall to the side, and tucked his bloody blade back into his jacket. He uttered the dark spell to summon his master.

“Sir, I think it maybe time to move up our timetable. Things are progressing quickly. Sam Winchester and Bronwyn Evans are… intensely enamoured with one another.”

“...”

“I can’t say for sure, but based on my observations I imagine it’s likely.”  

“...”

“Yes. Sir, I know just the demon. Driven, unwavering loyalty to our cause, penchant for malice.” The demon wearing Snyder smiled sickly. It was time to move forward with the next stage of their plans. After centuries of waiting, it would finally be a new age for demons. This world would be theirs.

.

.

.

“Do you need a ride?”

Stacy fastened her coat, as she left the nurses area. Melissa walking alongside her down the hall, keys in hand. “Nah, I’m alright Mel. The bus ride is only about 10 minutes or so.”

“Wyn have the car tonight?” her friend asked, tightening her own coat and pulled her hat down over her curly hair.

“Yeah,” Stacy smiled fondly, “Big date. It’s her and Sam’s 3 month anniversary!”

“Aww, that’s so sweet. I’m glad she found someone. Sweet, lovely girl like that, she deserves to be happy. Surprised she went this long without being in a relationship.”

Stacy beheld her fellow nurse with subtle admiration, “I could say the same thing about you.”

Melissa faltered, “Oh, ha, well… I don’t know about—“

“You’re off next Friday night, right?”

“Uh, Yeah!” the other woman blinked.

“We should grab a drink.” Stacy grinned. Her friend stood still, almost as if unsure she had heard correctly. “Just the two of us.” Her voiced lowered to her chest.

“Oh, okay, yeah. Yes, that sounds great!”

“It’s a date!” Stacy winked, and gave her a little wave. When she made it to the bus stop she turned, and saw Melissa get in her car and finally drove away. It had been a while since she dated, but with Mel’s adorable failed attempts at flirting, she figured it was time to jump back into the dating pool. 

Suddenly, she heard what sounded like a screaming freight train. Looking toward the direction of the sound she saw a thick black cloud of smoke barreling toward her from the horizon.

“What the—“

Before the beloved aunt could utter another word, the black smoke was upon her, forcing itself down her throat. She fought against the invasive attack, fought with everything she had trying to expel the dark entity, eyes shut tight. Then, when her eyes opened, they weren't the caramel brown that Bronwyn had grown up finding love and comfort in. They were black.

Chapter Text

 

“Did I hurt you?”

Sam had wrapped his arms around Wyn, after they stirred from their brief slumber. She shook her head in a light sleepy daze, “No. I mean a little bit at the beginning, but,” she smiled stroking his hair, “It was perfect. How we were, it felt amazing. Was it… for you? I mean I know we had to be careful, with those positions was it still good for you?”

“Amazing,” Sam kissed her quickly, “it was amazing. Really.” They snuggled together closer. “God,” he hugged her tight, “I can’t wait till we can wake up like this everyday...”

Her smile was soft, then she froze, “Wait… what time is it?”

“Ummm,” Sam reached over to his pants on the floor fishing his cell out of his pocket, “1:30.”

“CRAP! It’s past my curfew.” She leapt from the bed scrambling to pick up her undergarments. Sam immediately joined her and helped her gather her things as quickly as possible, while managing to throw on a pair of sweatpants. The panic rose quickly in her heart as she stumbled into the living room. While Wyn shimmied her boots on, Sam retrieved her bag.

“Let me go with you,” he pleaded holding the purse for her, “I’ll say the time just got away from us, that it was my fault.”

“No,” Wyn shook her head, and pulled her hair back into a messy bun, “stay here. Might make things worse if you’re there too. God, I hope Aunt Stacy isn’t too pissed.” She moved to leave.

“Wait a minute,” Sam pulled her in for a desperate final kiss, making it last as long as he could. “Text me when you’re home?”
“I will. I love you.”

“I love you,” He grinned at her. Saying it felt extremely good she had to agree.

 

The young lover made it back to her place in record time. She may or may not have taken a few stops signs as suggestions, instead of the law. The car pulled into the driveway, and she turned off the ignition, manually locking the doors. Carefully, the teen unlocked the front door, and closed it quietly behind her. When the lamp by the lounge chair in the living room clicked on and she saw the look on her Aunt’s face, Wyn realized she had really messed up.

Aunt Stacy stood from the chair and crossed her arms, “What time did I tell you to be home?” Her tone even and cold.

“I know, I’m so sorry. I --”

“What. Time. Did I tell you?”

“...Midnight.”

“And what time is it now?”

“Almost 2… Aunt Stacy, I’m sorry.”

“I’m sure you are,” the angry sarcasm sounded foreign, “I trusted you to be responsible, and you pull something like this? What’s gotten into you?” Wyn couldn’t formulate a reply, tears welling in her eyes. Shame. Guilt . The nurse stepped closer, “You’re grounded for a month.”

“Wh- a month?!”

“Yes, young lady. A month. You may be 18, but you are my responsibility. It’s my job to keep you safe. And while you are under my roof, living off my hard work, you are going to obey my rules. You can’t be out all hours of the night, doing who knows what with that boy! Is that understood?”

“Look, I-I’m sorry, is everything okay?”

“I SAID IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?!”

The words reverberated off the walls of the entryway. Wyn shook, an unfamiliar sense of fear of her trusted guardian building in her heart. “...Yes.”

“Good. You will wait at school everyday for me to pick you up. And on days I’m working late, you are to come straight to the hospital. Sam is not allowed to come over anymore when I am not here. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Go to bed. And make sure you cover that up before school on Monday,” she gestured the the blue mark on Wyn’s neck, “Don’t want everyone thinking you’re a slut.”

Wyn felt her gut sink. The harsh words painful to hear coming from the woman that raised her. She blinked, and tears finally fell from her eyes, “I’m sorry…” she forced out tightly, barely audible. Then went upstairs to her room, solemnly. The night had been so perfect. And now, all she could feel was guilt and shame that she had let Aunt Stacy down. When she entered her room, it felt surreal. As if everything in her small little world was forever altered.

Angry-sad-embarrassed tears continued to stream tracks down her cheeks, as she removed her clothes for the second time that night and prepared for bed. She caught her reflection in the mirror and saw black mascara running. Quickly, she grabbed a makeup removing wipe from the container she kept on her vanity and wiped her face.Then, exhausted and drained she collapsed on her bed. She heard her phone buzz and rumbled in her purse on the floor for her phone.

When she saw the screen, there was a text from Sam.

 

S: was she mad?

Wyn scoffed, full of hurt and shame.

W: putting it lightly. im grounded for a month

S: Yikes!

W: shes never grounded me before I feel so guilty

S: its my fault. shouldve set an alarm or somethin

W: not just urs, mine too

S: i can still come over tomorrow? Maybe smooth things over.

W: we should let the dust settle first. She was furious.

S: are u okay?

A soft smile returned at his concern.

W: ill be ok. call me tomorrow?

S: definitely. I love you.

The light began to return to her heart. After all, past few minutes aside, tonight really had been perfect. She breathed deep, feeling the swell of his love.

W: I love you, too xoxo goodnight

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.

.

Time heals all wounds, but apparently, time couldn’t fix the broken trust that Wyn had with her Aunt. Even after a week, it was as if their entire relationship had changed. Stacy used to be the person she could turn to about anything. The nurse was always able to help her, guide her, and teach her. But now Wyn wasn’t sure where she stood. The thing that worried Wyn the most: Aunt Stacy had stopped going to church. She didn’t even insist on the daily prayer before leaving the house each morning… Wyn still prayed everyday.

Over the month that she was grounded things changed drastically in their household. Stacy had implemented a strict curfew policy. On the days that she wasn’t able to pick Wyn up from school or if the nurse was working the late night shift, Wyn was to complete a long list of chores as soon as her homework was finished. She and Sam still managed to find time together. When Stacy worked the graveyard shift, they revelled in every moment they had. Sam would text her to make sure the coast was clear, before sneaking into her room. They spent those sweet nights giving themselves to each other.

 

“Things still weird with your Aunt?” Sam laid back propped up by the pillows, his arm around Wyn. Her against his side, her head resting on his chest. Their naked forms pressed close together, recovering from their most recent coupling.

“Yeah. I just don’t know what I did wrong. At first, yeah, she was mad cause I broke curfew that night. I knew she’d been letting things slide more recently. I’ve never exactly been a problem kid. Worst thing I ever did was not clean my room. I guess, I should’ve figured at one point it would be too much.”

“That sucks,” Sam winced sympathetically, “but hey, it’s still Stacy. Try and talk to her. Maybe she’s got a lot on her plate, and she’s just stressed out.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Wyn tracing invisible lines on his chest, “she did say, they’ve been having this huge system change at the hospital, and it’s messed up a bunch of their files. Plus, I know she and Melissa went on a date a few weeks ago. Aunt Stacy didn’t talk about it, but based on what Mel said, it didn’t go very well.”

“That’s too bad.”

“And the way she talks to me…”

“What do you mean? How does she talk to you?” His tone now had the edge of protection. Wyn hadn’t shared with him the details, just that things weren’t really going well at home. Hesitantly, she peered up at him, and he trailed his fingers gently up and down her arm.

“Little comments about my appearance, what I’m wearing, not picking up enough slack around the house, even though she’s got me doing all the chores. I’m starting to feel like Cinderella. She never used to treat me like this, but lately she’s just so… mean.” Tears welled up in her eyes. Self-confidence was just becoming something she was familiar with. But the backhanded comments and the annoyed looks were unbearable. “She just makes me feel awful. All the time. Like I’m the worst thing in her life.”

“Wyn…” his tone full of sympathy. He sighed deeply, peering back at her conveying comfort, “It sounds like there is something going on with her. Maybe it’s just something she feels like she can’t talk about. Talk to her straight. Ask her what’s wrong.”

“Ah, but in the Evan’s house we’re fans of ignoring the problem till it goes away,” she responded softly. Wyn kissed his skin, “Thanks for listening to me complain.”

“Hey, you don’t need to thank me. I wanna help you in anyway I can,” he lifted her chin and brought their lips together sweetly. “I wanted to tell you something…”

Wyn’s brow furrowed full of curiosity, “What is it?”

“I, uh,” He stumbled nervously, “I called the admissions office at Stanford…” he licked his bottom lip, “I accepted. I’m going to Stanford in the fall!”

“OH my-- Sam that’s--that’s wonderful!” Wyn brought their lips together and kissed him proudly. And again and again. She kissed him repeatedly until Sam started to laugh. “How are you feeling? Are you happy?” She asked. After all that was the whole point.

Sam sighed out, “I’m scared to tell my Dad… to tell Dean, but - yeah, I’m deliriously happy.”

“I’m so proud of you!” And she was. Sam had made a choice, and it was for himself. She beamed at him, “I have news too… my admissions counselor at UW looked into it for me. And it looks like I could transfer all my credits to UC-Berkeley for the spring semester. It’s only about an hour and a half from Palo Alto, but it’s still better than four years in different states…”

“We could be together,” Sam completed her thought, his eyes lighting up in hopeful elation, “We can get a place together… if you’d want to.”

Wyn smiled, “Then you should know, I’m a horrible decorator.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

Sam took a moment to gaze at her with a look that Wyn couldn’t quite pin down. It was an intense look of prophetic awe. As if he could see their entire future before them. “I’ve thought about this a lot…” His voice little and reserved.

“Tell me...I transfer to Berkeley in the spring, we move in together, then what’s next?” She encouraged him propping her head up to rest on her hand, elbow rested on the pillow.

“Well, we’ll both finish school. With honors of course,” Sam tucked a loose wave behind her ear, “I’ll get into law school, you’ll get your masters or doctorate degree. Of course we’ll get married before grad school.”

“Hmm. Dr. Bronwyn Winchester,” she grinned so hard her face hurt.

“You’d take my name?” Sam asked almost surprised.

“It’s a good name. Plus I want our family to have the same last name. Then what?”

“Then you’ll become a world renowned Neurologist. I’ll be the head of the best firm in the country. We’ll have three kids, and—”

“Three?” She let out a bell like laugh.

“Yeah, three. A boy, then a girl, then another boy. And then… I dunno live happily ever after, apple pie, house, the whole shebang.”

“I like that future,” Wyn pressed her lips against his. High off the idealistic daydream they had just created.

“I should leave before too long,” he whispered, his lips brushing against hers as he spoke, his tone clear he wasn’t a fan of the idea. Not to mention the stiffening member she felt under the sheets.

Wyn whined, “I don’t want you to leave yet…” She hooked her leg over his waist, and shifted herself to lay on his chest fully. “Don’t go.”

“You think we’ve got time for round two?” His voice low and husky, his hands shifted to her hips.

Wyn rose up carefully, her eyes lidded and inviting. Sam was instantly sitting up holding her body close to his. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and seized his hair smashing their lips together.

Sam gasped when Wyn wrapped her hand around him, pumping a rhythm that was rapidly hardening his erection. Her smirk was practically wicked. More and more when she was with Sam the part of her that took what she wanted, the part of her that knew she had the power to make him weak with ecstasy, was growing stronger.

“I love making you feel good,” she uttered before conquering his lips again, her tongue kneading against his. He began to respond by moving his hips up and down in time with her movements, though limited in his range of motion. Taking further privilege, Wyn maneuvered her way off his lap, and drew her mouth down his front. Licking, biting, sucking. Leaving a trail of red marks on his skin. When her lips found their way to the patch of coarse hair at his base, she took him in her mouth and engulfed him.

Sam’s sounds echoed in her ears like divine music from Heaven itself. There was nothing quite like having him in her mouth. The taste, the feel, the absolute fulfillment. She sucked eagerly, moving her head up and down, while working the lower half with her hand. The lubricant of her saliva dripping down to ease the pumping of her small hand. Hungrily, she performed her task with no sign of weariness.

After a minute or an hour, neither could tell, Sam was growing desperate. Wyn would bring him to the edge of orgasm, then pull back massaging his balls, to stretch out his enjoyment for as long as she wanted.

“God, I could do this forever,” she said pulling her mouth off for a moment, then returning immediately, and moved her tongue along the underside of his manhood. She continued sucking and working her lips in a massage like fashion with complete dedication. As if she was drawing life from her penitent act of love.

“Don’t take too long,” he smirked. His cheeks ruddy and flushed, “I’ve got some other things planned for you.”

“Oh?” Her eyebrow quirked and pulled herself back up to look him in the eye. She positioned herself then began sliding her increasingly wet entrance along the soft velvet skin of his length. His cock dark red and tip leaking. “And what might that be?”

Sam's eyes rolled back and he groaned, “I wanna,” his hips thrust slightly, feeling the slick now covering the underside of his cock.

“What do you want Sam?” Wyn pressed down harder, then lifted up slightly and teased the head of his thickness with her bare opening. The danger sparking between them. “You can have anything.”

There was something unspoken deep in him. She could feel he was holding back. And she thought back, realizing their few times together were intimate, passionate, and loving… Maybe he wanted to try something different, but was afraid to say.

“I mean it Sam…” Wyn continued her ministrations. “I wanna be with you in whatever way you want. Soft and sweet, hard and rough,” she felt his cock twitch at the suggestion. Then like lightbulb going off, “Anything between us is good.” Sam’s breath was strained and quick, she felt he wanted to let go. Unleash his restraints, completely unabashedly.

“I… don’t… wanna hurt you.”

“You won’t my love,” she kissed him sweetly.

And then, “ Fuck me.”

The sound that came from Sam was one of a hungry animal finally given sustenance. In a blur of motion, Sam flipped Wyn onto her back using his body to hold her down on the bed. With fervor, he devoured her lips. Frantically, Sam reached over to where they left the box of condoms, and tore one off the strip. Then sat back on his heels carefully removed the condom from the wrapper, and slid it on.

“Do it, Sam -- please!” Wyn moaned out at the sudden sensation of Sam filling her deep and stretching. She wasn’t feeling tender from their previous copulation thankfully, but her nerve endings were still raw. Sam held himself over her, his hips thrusting into her with hard deliberate thrusts. The intense stimulation made her quiver. “Oh God!”

Sam suddenly stricken, “Are you okay?”

“Don’t stop!” Her hand reached to grab his ass to hold him flush against her, encouraging his intense pounding. Moans, and sharp cries of pleasure punched out of her as Sam, feeling confident, let himself go. After a few thrusts, he reached back to grab her ankles and lifted them up to rest on his shoulders before returning to his punishing pace.

The new position made Wyn bite her lip. Sam’s eyes locked with hers, and she could see his pupils so large only a small hazel rings surrounded the blackness. He leaned down against her legs, bending her in half. She was feeling him in a novel way. Intense, raw, enflamed. It was a supreme gift of vulnerability and trust she had given him. Letting him take whatever he wanted from her. While she wasn’t experiencing pain, she was subdued to the incredible sensation of coming apart at the seams, as Sam chased his peak. All the while sending her deeper into a frenzied pleasure, over and over.

Wyn’s fingers released their grip on his ass, and tried to pull Sam’s face to hers. She stretched her head forward to bring their lips into a biting desperate kiss. He pulled his hips back slightly to close the distance, delighting in her happy and sex delirious noises. Then, she had an idea. She pressed her hands against his chest lightly, to signal for him to move. Taking the space to sit up and turn over, she then propped herself up with her forearms resting against the mattress, her ass up and hips swaying enticingly.

Sam took a moment to pause. His hands gently caressed and stroked the soft orbs of her ass. He then took hold of his length, and teased her clit rubbing himself against the juices moistening her entrance.

“Fucking perfect,” Sam voice was wrecked. The grate and gravel made her body sing with desire. Then, he speared into her again and stilled himself deep inside her. Wyn cried out. From his position behind her, she could feel all of him. He pressed his hips behind her, and leaned over his chest leaning on her back. She turned her head to the right, panting wantonly.

“Sam,” she gasped out. He rested his chin over her shoulder and gripped her hair, and kissed her desperately.

“You feel so amazing,” he uttered barely above a whisper. Then began rolling his hips, grinding against her clit and g-spot simultaneously. She keened loud and high pitched, reveling in his attention. “That feel good baby?”

“So good,” she moaned, then Sam resumed his pace and focus, “Yes, yes yes yes,” the words flowing out of her in time with his thrusts. “So good. Fuck, yes. Yes, Aaah!”

Closer and closer her orgasm approached. She could feel the snap building in her core again. Her clit stimulated each time Sam slammed into her and she forced her hips back to meet each thrust. Unable to articulate any further, she clung tightly to the sheets, the side of her face and shoulders pressed into the bed. Wyn could only pant, moan, beg, plead, and then finally scream out. The peak of pleasure exploded shooting tendrils of sparks to her extremities. The pulsing of her vaginal walls hugging and milking Sams cock.

Sam continued to thrust frantically. Madly. Each movement keeping her orgasm rolling. Her body quivered at the torridity that just wouldn’t let up. “Wyn-- fuck, Ohh!” Sam grunted out, his skin now slick with the sweat of exertion. Then, his movements stuttered erratically. He pounded into her, feeling her climax still thrumming. Her slick smoothness divinely giving him all he wanted. All the muscles in his body tightened, his vision blacked, and finally the first wave of climax hit him. It hit him hard. His form shook almost flailing, one arm wrapped around her waist, the other holding him above her. He rested his forehead between her shoulder blades and completely lost control of his motions.

Wave after wave, came and kept coming. In the back of both their minds, as their orgasms continued assaulting their systems, they wondered if one could actually die from sex. At long last, Sam felt the last bit of his release empty into the condom, then pulled out and fell hard next to Wyn on the bed. The two panting, covered in sweat, lay recovering next to one another.

Satisfied and exhausted they smiled at one another. Then, slowly they kissed. Languid and blissful. “Holy… I can’t believe… every time it’s so--” Sam tiredly searched for the words.

“I know,” Wyn smiled, “I know what you mean. That was...” An astounded chuckle escaped her, “I didn’t think it could get any better, but you keep surprising me.”

Sam blushed, “I think it’s, because it’s you and me. I feel so amazing with you I can’t imagine anyone else having what we do.”

“And we have this to look forward to for the rest of our lives? I’ll take it,” Wyn grinned, and kissed him again. Once their heart rates returned to a semblance of normalcy, Sam sat up to remove the condom.

“I need a shower,” he said with a grimace. “Join me before I have to leave?”

“Try and stop me,” she teased, and stood up out of the bed. Then yelped when Sam gave her ass a smack, wiggling his eyebrows.

.

.

.

Days passed before Wyn finally mustered the courage to confront her Aunt about her odd behavior that past several weeks. She stood before Stacy sitting at the kitchen table reading the newspaper, not paying her any mind. It was a rare Saturday they were together. Her conversation with Sam still playing in her mind. The young girl steeled herself, and sat down at the table without looking at her Aunt.

“Aunt Stacy?” Her voice much meeker than she intended, “Can I… can I talk to you about something?”

The woman’s gaze lifted up. Her face shifted to parental concern that Wyn hadn't seen all that much over the past few weeks. “Of course sweetheart. What’s on your mind?”

“I’m—- I’m worried about you.”

“Worried about me?” Stacy reached over to place her hand gently on her niece’s arm, “Snickerdoodle, what for?”

Wyn swallowed. She had gone over the conversation in her mind a hundred times. Each word carefully calculated, “I’ve noticed you have been pretty withdrawn lately. It seems like things upset you more than they use to… you’ve stopped going to church, and everyone’s been asking about you. They’re worried, too. And it feels like you’ve been angry with me - a lot. I know I missed my curfew that night, and I understand that some sort of punishment was definitely warranted… but it’s been over a month and... it feels like I’m still being punished. You mentioned work has been extremely stressful, so I get that a lot of that weight falls on your shoulders. But is there something else going on? I’ve done some reading and I’m worried you might be depressed or something. Reverend Terry said he would love to get coffee with you and talk if that’s what you need.” Stacy sat calmly listening intently to what she said. “I love you. So much, but… you’re scaring me Aunt Stacy.”

Stacy smiled softly, as if the notion of the young girl showing concern was adorable, “I guess I’ve been a bit of a hard ass lately, huh?”

Wyn didn’t respond, she merely stared at the nurse, afraid to say anymore.

“I’m hard on you, because I believe you have a spectacular future ahead of you. You are going to be an amazing woman. Sam is a nice boy, but I don’t want you to throw away that future by making impulsive decisions so early in life. There’s still time for so many other things to happen.”

Wyn held back the strong reaction to her Aunt’s talk about Sam. “But you just seem so… unhappy. What’s going on?”

“You’re not wrong. I’ve been seeing things differently lately.” Stacy folded the paper, and reached for her hot mug of coffee, “Do you know what those people at that church see when they look at me?” Wyn didn’t respond. “A sinner. An unclean soul that they ‘love’ in spite of my imperfections . Because I can’t help who I have feelings for, who I choose to be with. Who I love…”

“Not everyone feels that way... You know that Reverend Terry’s progressive. Yeah, there’s probably plenty of people who are clinging onto old beliefs, but people can change,” Wyn tried. It was the very argument Stacy had been behind for years. That you couldn’t change minds from the outside. People only changed through experience and understanding.

“I refuse to be a part of a religious institution that dehumanizes those who are different. When they’re all just as broken and dark on the inside. It’s despicable, and I’ve decided to wash my hands of it.”

Wyn peered at her Aunt oddly. She could certainly understand where she was coming from. After all, society wouldn’t look down on her for her relationship with Sam. Aunt Stacy had been dealing with people harassing her over her bisexuality as long as Wyn could remember. She just always saw her Aunt as this strong woman that wasn’t fazed by anything. But everyone has their breaking point. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what it must feel like.”

Aunt Stacy let show a sad sort of smile, “Now as far as the rules around here… I’ve got a compromise.”

.

.

.

While the tone in the Evans house was somewhat lightened, things didn’t exactly go back to the way they used to be. Wyn doubted now that things would ever be the same. But with her household chore responsibility being lessened, and being allowed more unsupervised time after school made things a bit easier with Sam. They didn’t need to sneak around as much, which was a huge relief to them both.

 

One day at lunch, Steve Gillis, the class stoner plopped down at their table with a playful air about him, “What up my dudes?” Wyn gave him a surprised, but friendly grin.

“Hey Steve! How’s last semester of high school treating ya?”

“Not too bad, mon amie. Taking Art, Shakespeare Lit, and   Le Francais just for the hell of it. But I’m really diggin’ my philosophy course at the community college.”

“Huh,” Sam noted, “you do seem like the philosophical type.” Made sense seeing how he was blazed almost everyday.

“We’re all students of life man.”

Sam and Wyn exchanged amused looks. Steve then, peered around and leaned in all secretive, “Personal question, are you two crazy kids intending to go to Prom?”

They both let out nearly identical scoffs, then Sam replied, “Nah, not really our scene.”  

“Yeah,” Wyn added, “me, formalwear, and crowds are a recipe for disaster. Plus it’s way too expensive. We figured we would do something like chill at home, go the movies, bowling, something like that.”

The stoner boys eyes lit up mischievously, “I’m very happy to hear you say that,” he unzipped his bag and slid a white piece of paper to the center of the table.

“What the hell is ‘Morp’?” Sam asked laughing upon reading the large print at the top of the page.

“Morp my fine fellow, is the anti-prom!”

“Prom spelled backwards,” Wyn read the flyer for more details, “clever.”

“I’m throwing a hang out sesh at my place that night. For all the freaks and geeks like us that would rather be around people we actually like on prom night! Plus, like you said, lots of people can’t afford it.”

Wyns eyed widen excitedly. “That’s awesome Steve!”

“I know I am. So keep it on the DL. We don’t want Snyder busting up the party.”

“Who all have you asked so far?” She inquired.

“Drama Club, Mathletes, Debate Team to name a few. Oh plus, everyone in GSA.”

“GSA?” Sam queried.

“Gay-Straight Alliance. I got the idea to do this actually, cause the school told David Walker he couldn’t bring his boyfriend from Claremont High. Poor dude was heartbroken.”

“That sucks!” Sam blurted indignantly.

“Exactly!” Steve nodded, “So I say screw the establishment, fight the power, and party on! Oh, and no need to bring anything, I’ve got it covered.”

“Really? Cause that sounds like a ton of people. You sure we can’t help?” If the idea was to not go broke, she certainly didn’t want Steve to bear the brunt of the cost.

“No biggie,” he shrugged, like the notion of paying for food and alcohol for close to 100 seniors was nothing to him, “My parents' house has the space, and all refreshments will be easy to take care of. Oh, but if you're interested in swimming, I’ve got a pool and hot tub, so suit up.”

Suddenly Wyn, for the first time, was looking forward to a social event. Crowds made her nervous, but being surrounded by people who, like her, had been outcasts most of their time in school eased her worry. Although, she and Sam would have to play their cards right, if she was going to be let out of the house late. Maybe since she had already told Aunt Stacy she had no intention of going to prom, they’d have some wiggle room.

Steve stood to leave, and swung his backpack over one shoulder, “Oh, and Evans, thanks for your help in History. Your notes were great. I got a 97 on the final!” Then he walked away to another table of some other Eagle Point High rejects. Sam smiled, but when he saw Wyn pouting indignantly, his expression shifted to concern, “What wrong?”

“He got a 97 on the final!”

“Yeah, And?”

“I got a 94! And he used MY notes to study! How the heck does that happen?!”

Sam burst out laughing. Wyn couldn’t help but grin. After all, things didn’t seem so bad now. With any luck, it would stay that way.

Chapter Text

Think Positive . That’s the mantra Wyn repeated over and over in her mind. Absolute dread filled her at the simple thought of asking permission to go to the “Freaks and Geeks” Party. It had been weeks since Stacy last flipped out on her. So far they had continued the delicate truce between them. The teen just hoped it was enough to gain her aunt’s favor.

Upon entering the kitchen, she saw Stacy seated at her normal spot at the table with an array of bills in front of her. Not a good sign .

“Morning Aunt Stacy,” she opened one of the cupboards and pulled down her favorite coffee mug with ‘So many books, so little time’ painted on the side. Stacy replied absentmindedly searching through the pile of papers in search of a specific item. After filling her own cup of black coffee, she grabbed the pot along with her mug and went to the table.

“Need a fill up?”

“Yes, thank you,” Stacy held out her mug without looking up. Wyn smiled softly and filled the ceramic just below the edge with the black liquid. Then returned the pot to the burner.

“So I wanted to talk to you about something,” Wyn sat his hands wrapped around the mug in front of her.

“Oh yeah?” Stacy’s eyes still scanning the bills in front of her.

“As you know, Prom night is coming up--”

Her eyes shot up with a piercing stare, “You said you weren’t going.”

“I’m not! We-- Sam and I aren’t going to Prom,” she explained quickly, “A friend of ours is having people over that night. People who either can’t afford Prom or don’t wanna go. So I was thinking that we could--”

“No.”

“... No? But… I don’t understand - why not?”

“Because I said so.”

Wyn blinked, mouth agape. It made no sense. What could she have possibly done to deserve this intense level of distrust? She felt the crushing weight of disappointment in her chest. Angry tears stung her eyes and she blinked them back. Absolutely, refusing to cry.

“I think you’re being unfair. I mean I graduate in just a few weeks. What? Do you plan on treating me like a child until I move out?”

“Only if you keep acting like one.”

“What does it take to make you happy?! I’ve done everything you’ve asked, and I’ve worked hard. I deserve to celebrate with my friends!”

“Since when do you have friends?”

Wyn tried to ignore the twist in her gut, but the pain was white hot. “Please, Aunt Stacy!” She begged.

“Absolutely not!”

The young girl clenched her jaw, filled with hurt and fury. Despite her will power, she raised her voice, and her frustration poured out, “Fine! In a few weeks I’m out of here. You won’t be able to control my life then. And maybe, just maybe, you can actually be my Aunt again instead of my prison guard!”

Wyn stormed out of the kitchen, up stairs and made a concerted effort to slam her bedroom door as hard as she could. Certainly out of character, but she was at the end of her rope.

 

At the kitchen table, the woman’s eyes flicked black and rose to her feet. Wyn hadn’t noticed the shopping bags from the local hardware store in the corner behind her aunt. Bags filled with rope, locks, and chains. “We’ll see about that little missy…”

.

.

.

Wyn waited a half hour after Stacy left for her late shift at the hospital, before throwing the covers off and jumped out of bed fully clothed. She and Sam had worked it all out. She would sneak out and meet up down the street, and he would drive them to Steve’s party. The Impala’s loan came with Dean’s standard threat of bodily harm should anything happen to his Baby.

She had prepared for the night with her bathing suit under her clothes, and change of underwear in her purse. After evaluating her appearance, she nodded with a satisfied smirk, and went to leave… only to discover her bedroom door locked.

“What the…” She tried the knob again. It was locked from the outside. Her heart rate increased. Never did she think it would come to her Aunt putting her on actual lock down. Fine, she thought angrily. She turned on her heel, and crossed to her window for Escape Plan B. Fingering the latch at the top to open, the window didn’t budge when she tried to lift it. Upon closer inspection she saw an external lock had been installed on the window as well.

“Unbelievable,” Wyn was exasperated. Thankfully, her phone vibrated from her pocket and she answered the call immediately seeing it was Sam.

 

“Hey. I’m around the corner in the Impala.”

“My Aunt locked me in!” she felt like sobbing.

“What?!”

“She puts locks outside my window and bedroom door! I can’t get out!!” Wyn ran her hand through her hair, anxiety keyed up intensely.

“Is she there?” His voice had a dangerous edge.

“No, she was on call. At the hospital now. She’s--”

“I’ll be right there!”

 

Wyn wasn’t left to wonder long, because she could hear the front door open just a minute later. Followed by the clicking and scratching noise of the lock pick working it’s way into her door lock. Then the knob turned, and Sam opened the door. Wyn couldn’t stop the image of a knight rescuing the damsel from her locked tower. Her mind, then, overwhelmed her with guilt. She hated feeling helpless.

“You alright?” Sam stepped closer looking at her with concern. It was then her vision blurred through teary eyes.

“I don’t know what to do!” She wrapped her arms around her love. Seeking the assurity that Sam always provided. “She’s getting worse! I never imagined she was capable of—”

The tall boy held her close, soothing her gently, “We’re gonna figure this out. I promise. I’m not gonna let her treat you like this anymore. But for now,” he leaned back slightly to look down at her, “why don’t we go have some fun?”

.

.

.

“Holy Crap…” Sam’s mouth gaped open like a fish.

“Steve’s rich... Like really really rich,” Wyn spoke in amazement, staring at the mansion before them. Warm lights glowed from the front facing windows of the three story home. Sounds of laughter and music sounded from behind the house. They could see a wrought-iron fence with hedges providing privacy to the back yard. The duo approached the enormous house, then knocked, but realized the door was slightly ajar. Taking the invite, they entered the party.

An open entryway with a wide staircase  The energy wasn’t crazy, but at the same time bustling. People who had never spoken to each other were scattered in the main entryway, talking and laughing together.

“Amigos!” Steve’s voice carried to their ears and then turned to see the teenager approaching them from the room to their right.

“Dude,” Sam greeted him, “Your house is amazing!”

“I told ya not to worry about it!” Steve said with a wink. They both could see their host’s eyes already bloodshot, holding a blunt in one hand, “Welcome, bienvenue, w illkommen and all that jazz. Glad you guys could make it!”

“Yeah,” Wyn smiled broadly, “took a little rebellious mischief, but we made it!”

“Whelp,” Steve pointed around, “Food and drinks are in the kitchen. Pool and hot tub are out back. And I got a smoking circle around the firepit. Do you two partake?”

They exchanged quick looks followed by awkward noises. Steve waved his hands, “No worries! Let me know if you change your minds. Got plenty of green for whoever wants it, and enjoy yourselves, ya crazy kids!” With that he shooed them away to go mingle with the rest of the party.

Surprisingly, Wyn recognized almost everyone there. While she might not remember their names, she could remember what classes she had with who, along with those she’d just seen passing in the halls over the past four years.

“Bronwyn! Sam!” They turned to see David Walker was weaving through the crowd holding the hand of a young man, Wyn could only assume was his boyfriend.

The stranger had jet black hair spiked up into a faux hawk. He sported a silver stud in his nose contrasting nicely with his olive tanned skin, and had black eyeliner delicately drawn around his caramel eyes. Pretty much, he was the complete opposite of shy, glasses-wearing, David.

“I’m glad you guys made it!”

Sam and Wyn smiled back genuinely glad to see him. “Hey David,” her bell-like voice cutting clear through the buzzing noise of the party, “who is this handsome fellow?”

David blushes but still grinned proudly, “Yes. This is Nikos. He’s my, uh - we—”

“I’m his boyfriend,” Nikos rolled his eyes, giving David a soft smack on the butt, before speaking to the two of them. “Bronwyn right? Nice to meet you sweetheart. Davey’s told me so much about you.” Wyn blinked in surprise at the thick Greek accent, and at the comment. David had mentioned her?

The handsome young man extended his hand, showing off a detailed sleeve tattoo picturing a feathered wing stretched the length of his bicep and onto his forearm in impressive black shading. She could see its mate on the other arm, currently being clung onto by David.

“Thanks,” Wyn took his hand and shook, “nice to meet you, too! I like your angel wings.”

“Actually, Cupid wings is more what I had in mind. And you must be the famous Sam… I owe you a thank you,” the young man’s charisma radiated as he extended his hand for Sam to take.

Sam raised his brow in slight surprise, “Oh really?”

“It’s because of you, we’re together.”

“Cause of me?”

“Well, sort of…” David explained, “That day that you punched Mike, I… I wasn’t feeling exactly confident. I mean, Nikos even told me I needed to start standing up for myself, and I just got my ass handed to me. But you told me -- do you remember what you said to me in the hall?”

“Yeah, I do,” Sam’s eyes shifted as if seeing the memory in front of him.

“You said it was brave of me to stand up to him. That there were people who wanted to be brave with me, too. And I hadn’t… we hadn’t started dating exactly. People always kinda figured, but I hadn’t come out yet. What you said… made me feel brave enough to kiss him for the first time.” David had turned his gaze to stare lovingly at his boyfriend.

Nikos smiled broadly, “You were so nervous... But I knew you’d fall for me,” and kissed him sweetly.

“Well,” Sam shrugged with a humble blush, “Happy you guys are happy.”

“Have you guys been out back yet?” David instantly turned and wobbled slightly.

“Not yet,” Wyn chimed in, “haven’t gotten a drink yet either, which I need to remedy ASAP.”

“Follow me, I need a refill,” David grabbed her hand and tipsily led her towards the kitchen. The two young men left there standing with amused smiles on their faces.

The black haired shorter boy shook his head on a laugh, “He’s such a lightweight. He’s only had one wine cooler if you can believe it.”

Sam let out a genuine laugh.

“So you and Bronwyn, huh?” He nudged Sam. “She the one?”

Sam blinked at the question. He took a breath, “Yeah… she’s definitely the one.”

“I’ve got a talent when it comes to these things. Seems like you two have something special… something like that comes along - you make sure you hold onto it with everything you got. Cause soulmates, Sam? They don’t always have it easy.”

“Soulmates?” Sam flustered, buzzed his lips, “I don’t know about all of that.”

Nikos looked at him with a curious calculative gaze. Sam shifted under the scrutiny. Then sounding wise beyond his years, the young man asked, “When she looked into your eyes for the first time… that first true look, what did you feel?”

“... I felt… it was like being struck by lightning, without the pain. Like a moment of clarity.”

His new friend nodded, “And how long until you realized you were in love with her?”

Sam blew out a string of air, “I don’t really know,” he shrugged. Feeling slightly unnerved at the frank observations.

“Yes, you do.”

He’s right. “The day I almost lost her. The day I finally asked her out.”

“Since I owe you, I’m gonna do you a solid and give you a bit of truth. Sam,” he reached to put his hand on Sam’s shoulder, “You and Bronwyn? There’s no power greater than the soulmate bond that you share. Love like that - is eternal.”

A million thoughts raced through his head. Questions trying to scramble to the surface. Sam didn’t laugh it off, or call him crazy. Nor did he turn the other direction and walk away. Simply uttered, “You’re sure?” Not even certain he had spoken aloud.

Nikos removed his hand, and slipped back into his playful attitude, “Like I said, kinda got a sixth sense when it comes to these things.”

 

David and Wyn rejoined them, and they each sported an extra drink for their significant other. Sam relaxed. As if he hadn’t just had an existential conversation with his classmates boyfriend.

“We should go mingle,” David spoke, “I wanted to find Claire. We’ll see you guys later!”

“We’ll talk more, don’t miss us too much!” Nikos winked at the pair, then allowed himself to be led by the hand once again through the crowd.

“He seems nice,” Wyn commented pleasantly.

“Yeah.”

 

It was surprising to both of them how easy the whole evening felt. There was a rare sense of comradery felt amongst the outcasts. And there wasn’t a doubt in Wyn’s mind she had made the right choice to come here. That was what she had grown into - The unexpected confidence to make her own decisions. To decide what was best for her.

After about 15 minutes of wandering through the party, engaging with classmates and even people from other schools, Sam and Wyn found themselves in the back yard. String lights hung above their heads connecting trees, wood poles and the tall fencing. There were a few people playing chicken in the pool, others circled around a rather impressive fire pit - the smoke in the air not just from the large flames - then they spied the hot tub and recognized a couple of the faces.

Throwing caution to the wind the pair made their way across the patio. “Hey guys!” Wyn waves happily to James and Jessie. Twins they had worked endless hours of AP Euro presentations with.

“Hey Winnie!” Jessie had fair skin, with tightly oriented freckles, and a LOT of curly fiery ginger hair. Her brother, sitting not to far from her in the water, had a matching skin tone, but his hair carried more of a burnt hue.

“Join us! Water’s fine,” James said reaching for his drink he had placed on the side of the tub. Sam and Wyn happily obliged, stripping down to their suits and placed their close safely aside. Wyn held back the urge to bite her lip at the sight of Sam’s bare chest, and distracted herself by quickly submerging her body in the water. They both relaxed and sighed at the bubbly sensations.

“I know right?” James grinned at the blissful look on Sam’s face. The tall boy just nodded. They all exchanged relief that high school was finally over, with stories of crazy teachers to make them all laugh.

 

It wasn’t long until their host joined them in the hot tub. Steve, shimmied in between Jessie and Wyn, all the while carefully holding his bowl pipe above the water, and lighter in the other. Once he was seated he took a long drag from the bowl.

“Anyone want a hit?” His voice tight from holding his breath, followed by masterful smoke rings.

“You know what?” Wyn exchanged a look with Sam, “why not? How do I do this?”

“Alright Evans! It’s a party now. You too, Winchester?”

Sam grinned, “Sure, but just a little I gotta drive us back tonight.”

Steve handed Wyn the pipe, and instantly she felt like the nube she was having no idea how to smoke it. The stoner boy laughed at her confused expression, “Hold it in your left hand, and place your thumb over this little side hole,” she did, “Now, I’ll light it for you. Inhale when I say and keep going till your lungs are full,” he flicked the lighter and held the flame over the dark green plant, “Breathe in, in, in, in,” the plant burned orange, “hold it for a sec, and—“ Wyn couldn’t hold it and started coughing out all the smoke, almost dropping the pipe into the hot tub. Laughter broke out, even Sam couldn’t hold back.

“That’s alright, you got a good hit! Miss One and Done!” Steve gave her a supportive slap on the back, which of course didn’t help her coughing fit. She was still struggling when Sam somehow managed to take a similar hit, with minimal coughing.

By the time, Wyn caught her breath, and she made sure Sam was okay… she was feeling good .

“There it is!” Steve praised the now bloodshot eyes of the two lovers.

“Hehe,” Wyn leaned in to snuggle Sam, “this is niiice .” He immediately returned her amorous behavior, pulling her to sit on his lap. A feeling of weightlessness filled her. Her head swam in a delightful way. The sensation of the water jets and the feel of Sam’s skin was practically orgasmic.

“Woah guys, keep it PG!” Jessie called out, when Sam had managed to shove his tongue down Wyn’s throat, obviously feeling pretty good himself. They managed to compose themselves now suddenly intrigued with the bubbles.

 

Hours passed, and the large gathering manage to dwindle down. It was after midnight when only a handful remained. Left sitting around the fire pit: Sam and Wyn - now dry and clothed coming down from their high, the twins, David and Nikos, Steve, and a buddy of Steve’s that Wyn couldn’t remember the name of, but she knew she had Pre-Calc with.

“Steve, man, we gotta know,” James, quite drunk at this point, spoke up taking a long sip from his drink, “how are you loaded?!”

Jessie, gave him a swift smack on the back of the head, “Don’t be rude!”

Steve laughed good naturedly, “My parents were the founders of a tech startup company that helps design software security systems. They were recently bought out by Apple. They’re in St. Bart’s for the weekend.”

The small circle of seniors just stared at the unsuspecting young man. Nikos let out a low whistle. Sam spoke, “Well thanks a million for hosting. I feel like we all really needed this.” There was much agreement around the circle.

“Whelp,” Steve stood holding what Wyn was positive was the biggest joint in Oregon, and raised it high, “Here’s to the class of 2002! To our future!”

“To our future!” The group all raised their respective drinks and paraphernalia. No one noticed, the meaningful gaze Wyn and Sam exchanged.

Sadly as the night was coming to a close, the remaining party go-ers parted ways. Out front Wyn hugged David and Jessie, before thanking Steve profusely. Sam could hear her say she regretted not spending more time trying to get to know him. Nikos turned to shake Sam’s hand again, “Remember what we talked about, yeah?”

He nodded, clasped the hand and pulling him in patting the shorter boys back quickly.

“Don’t think I can forget.”

The rest of their companions, stuffed into cars of designated drivers, began driving off in the night. Sam placed his arm around Wyn, and pulled her close with her back pressed to his front.

“I don’t want to go home yet.” He whispered, the despairing news his father shared with him earlier ringing in his mind. “Lemme take you somewhere.”

Though he couldn’t see it, Wyn smiled, “Let’s go.”

.

.

.

It was the perfect night. Warm and breezy. The two young lovers lay stretched out over the hood of the impala. Sam had found an empty field off the main road heading back to their part of town. The sky was black with clouds on the horizon, but just above they could see an open patch of sky. Stars blinking back at them in the comfortable silence.

Wyn felt Sam’s hand warm in her own, and couldn’t hold back the content grin from crossing her face. “Ya know, I’m gonna miss everyone - well, at least everyone at Steve’s, but I honestly can’t wait to get out of this place.”

Sam was quiet. A pensive look on his face. He stared up into the sky, as if he was looking beyond the stars.

“You okay?”

“My Dad wants us to move on.”

“What?” She sat up in shocked disbelief.

“Me and Dean and him. He wants to leave first thing in the morning. I’m telling him about Stanford tonight.”

Wyn’s heart began to race. “He— you can't! W-we still have time. Graduation’s in two weeks, why—”

“Run away with me.”

“..Sam?”

“Run away with me. I mean it,” Sam sat up and turned towards her taking her hands firmly in his larger ones, “I don’t know what Dad’ll say when I tell him, but… it’ll be bad. We get on a bus, and just go.”

“Wh-... how will we—”

“We’ll figure it out. I’ve got a little money saved… Wyn. I want out,” his misty eyes locked with her own, “Of hunting, of the whole life. It’s ugly, and horrifying. I want to be with you.”

Wyn was shaking. Not from fear. Not quite excitement. Something new and altogether wonderful. With a hopeful smile, her lips parted in response, but raindrops started to fall. She looked up briefly, and then the sky opened up. They should have seen it coming, really. Thunder rolls and lightning flashes had been getting closer and more frequent the distance for almost half an hour.

Swiftly, Sam slid off the hood of the Impala, and Wyn followed suit. In a matter of seconds the rain had intensified, coming down in thick sheets of water. Their clothes now soaked through, they scrambled to the side of the car. Sam opened the back door, “Quick get in!” He hollered over the sound of the storm.

Once inside, she moved to the far side making room for Sam. Staring at him with cool certainty. There was a small beat of silence between them, with only the rain pounding on the steel frame of the classic car. Lightning flashed, followed a moment later by a deep thunder roll.  

“You’re serious?” her voice a bare whisper.

Sam looked to her, his hair dripping wet in front of his eyes, “Yes,” his voice shook with anticipation. “I don’t want that life for you, for us. Come with me…”

A lone tear, fell from her eye, “Yes…” She reached for him, wrapping her arms around his neck, “Take me away from here, Sam!”

    When their lips joined, they knew something had shifted. Something resounding, powerful. For that moment, only the two of them existed. There was no time, no world outside their secret paradise. With easy movements, the two unleashed the deep unabating love they felt. No frenzied tangle of limbs. Just two forms moving together, in perfect sync. Slowly, as they kissed and touched, clothes were peeled off. The sound thunder increased in tambor and intensity, bright flashes illuminated the curtain of water surrounding them, but they only had eyes for each other.

    Eventually, Wyn was on her back only in her bras and jeans. Sam’s shirt lay somewhere on the front seat. With slow, deliberate action Sam unbuttoned her jeans and slid them off. His hands stroked her creamy thighs and discarded the denim. He leaned forward, and while looking into her eyes, planting worshipful kisses on her belly and down to her black silky panties.

    As he teased the elastic with his teeth, Wyn rose her hips to aid their removal. Now, she lay exposed before him. When she felt the shock of his mouth against her sex, she moaned out. Sweetly, he licked, sucked, and penetrated her with his hot tongue. The pleasure built up in her core like the rising tide. Gradually, filling her every cell, she spread her legs as wide as she could, her right leg propped on the back of the rear seat. With her head thrown back, she reached and gently carded her fingers through his thick hair. Their heavy breathing, had fogged up the windows by the time she felt the snap approaching.

    Gently, she pushed him back. He tilted his head slightly. “I want to come together... I want to feel you.”

    Sam simply pulled back, bringing her upright with him. With surprisingly gentle strength, he lifted her thighs and situated her on his lap. Their skin slick from the heat of the cars interior and rain, they breathed as one. In and out they could sense every moment, every beat of their heart, they were closer to becoming one.

    Wyn placed her hands on his shoulders, and gently pressed down to help lift herself up. Sam shaking, positioned himself, and in one true moment of love and passion, he entered her. Her hips began gyrating, and Wyn moaned at the purely sensational feeling. Together they moved, and gasped, and clung to the string tying them to this world.

    Sexes thrust together, stretching the young girl to the brink. This - this was more than a simple fuck, more than soulmates making love, this… was worship . Each breathy sigh into the mouth of their lover, each point of skin on skin contact, the power they felt. All of it was to show their utter dedication, and it was chasing something. Neither knew quite what it was they were seeking, only knowing they would find it together.

    “Wyn,” Sam gasped, “Oh God, Wyn --- I love you so much,” his read reeled back resting on the back of the seat.

    His beautiful paramour riding him with a look of other worldly pleasure on her face. Wyn reached behind her, spreading her arms out beside her along the back of the front seat. She arched her back and screamed out at the stimulation. Sam gripped her waist with his large hands, lifted her and thrust in time with the roll of her hips. The young lovers stared into each other's soul, reaching out desperate to be joined… to be re -joined. At the moment lightning struck on the other side of the field, SamWyn cried out in union. Their bodies snapped together.

Their shared moment of ecstasy, shook awake something deep inside them. An old eternal sensation. Something that blinked open, binding their essence together saying, There you are… I’ve missed you.

Eyes of the young lovers locked on like clinging to their bond. Holding on for dear life, they revelled in the divine love felt between them. They saw reflected that spark, the air that God breathed into dust at The Beginning… the spark of life. It felt so surreal. Sam eyes glistened at the overwhelming sensation, holding Wyn’s form, shaking.
    Wyn… ” The name tumbled from his lips like a prayer. Like it held an all encompassing meaning. Lover. Other. Soulmate . Her mind supplied.

A soft unbelieving laugh bubbled up, pure happiness felt all the way to her fingertips and toes. Sam was hers. And she was his. Forever.

“I love you,” her voice quivered on the laugh, “You’re the One, Sam…”

Sam’s eyes fluttered shut, he exhaled, and rested his forehead against hers as silent twin tear tracks ran down his face.

“Take me away,” her voice unwavering, “you promised.”

“I will. I am,” he rubbed his hands up and down her back. He kissed her gently. They relaxed their forms and they separated. Promptly cleaning the evidence of their romp in the backseat of Baby. Wyn’s heart piqued when she remembered. She turned just as Sam pulled on the second sleeve of his overshirt.

“I almost forgot, Sam,” he looked at her, “tell Dean… ask him to come with us.”

Sam was speechless. Knowing that nothing more needed to be said, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. Overjoyed that she understood him so completely. He didn’t know whose side Dean would take. He hoped… he’d just have to ask him and find out.

.

.

.

Wyn, her damp hair just starting to dry, dashed around her room, eyes searching for anything she may have missed. Her charger, wallet, and stash of babysitting money were in the front pocket of her duffel bag. A decent conglomerate of clothes were hastily stuffed into the main part.

“Divide and conquer” that was the plan. She had only a few minutes to gather her belongings before she had to meet Sam at the bus station. Remembering, her eyes darted to the book shelf. She grabbed on the top shelf her photo album and at eye level, The Hobbit . She took it in her other hand, and briefly clutched them both to her chest.

After stuffing them on either side of the clothes she zipped the bag shut. On her vanity she had placed a note as with a vaguely written note. Bitterly, she had thought her Aunt didn’t deserve an explanation, but her guilt got the better of her.

Wyn gave a final look across her room. It was a mess with drawers hanging half open, and discarded items on the floor. She fingered the necklace Sam gave her and her silver charm bracelet jingled. Hoisting the duffle bag strap on her shoulder, the young girl turned to leave.

    “Where do you think you’re going?”

The teen froze. Stacy stood at the top of the stairs, and Wyn’s heart raced.

“I-I’m leaving. Sam and I. We’re leaving Eagle Point.”

Fire erupted in Stacy’s eyes. In the distance, Wyn heard the front door slam shut on its own. In the blink of an eye, Wyn was pinned to the wall. The duffle bag dropped to the floor. Her feet dangled just above the ground, with her aunts hand gripping her throat holding her in place.

“You’re not going anywhere young lady,” her voice was eerily calm. Wyn gasped clutching at her throat, trying to pry the fingers away. She stared into her aunts eyes, pleading for release… then her heart dropped when she saw Stacy’s eyes turn black. Wyn was thrown to the ground hard. Air filled her lungs, and she coughed violently. Pain emanating from her throat.

“You-- you’re not my Aunt. What did you do to her?!” instinctively the girl began backing away, shuffling her body across the floor.

“Gold star little one. I’m just taking your whore aunt for a ride.”

“Let her go!”

“Hmmm… no. Don’t think I will.”

Wyn scrambled to her feet and raced downstairs to the front door. But Not-Stacy was faster. It grabbed her by the hair as she reached the bottom step, and dragged her towards the kitchen. Wyn kicked and screamed, trying to free herself from the monsters grasp. Trying desperately to escape. She had to get to Sam. He would know how to help Stacy.

Her captor threw open a door in the kitchen. The door opened to the top of the steps leading down to the basement.

“In ya go!” It grabbed her by the arm, dragging her to the top step, released its grip and then pushed. Wyn tumbled down the stairs hard. Blindly, she reached out to grab hold on anything. Upon grasping a wooden post of the railing, she felt a pop in her shoulder. Instantly the pain made her release and she fell straight back. White hot pain erupting from the back of her skull, and her vision blurred. The last thing she saw was the thing using her poor Aunts body, sauntering down the stairs. She tried to sit up, but her vision tunneled and then darkened.

 

Wyn came to an unknown amount of time later, and instantly wished she hadn’t. The evil creature stood above her, with a wicked gaze pointed at her. When she tried to sit up, her vision swam and nausea crept up from her gut. Groaning, she reached back to the painful injury on her head. It was then she realized her hands and feet were bound, as she lay crumpled on a cot on the cold ground. Seemed her prison was now the shabby corner of the basement.

“What are you going to do to Stacy?” she demanded.

“Oh Honey, she isn’t the one you should worry about.”

“... You’re a monster. You won’t get away with this.”

“Oh, I am so much more than a monster,” it’s eyes went black once again, “I’m a demon. And I’m worse than anything you could fathom.” The evil thing crossed its arms grinning, “No, Stacy really isn’t the one you should be worrying about... You should know she’s awake in here.” Wyn felt her heart drop, “and it’s because of you. You and Sam just couldn’t stick to the plan, ya had to get ahead of schedule.” The demon shook its head, “Oh well, that’s what the boss sent me for, I guess.”

“What are you going to do?” She was petrified. But she would be damned if she would let this thing know that.

The Demon slapped its hand against the concrete wall next to her head, and articulated in a gluttonous tone, “Whatever the hell I want.”

“... Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because it had to be you,” It touched her cheek, cupping with almost gentle care. “Don’t worry. As soon as you break, things will be so much easier. You have no idea what’s in your future. Such great and terrible things. I’m here to guide you. Sweet Bronwyn…”

Wyn turned her head toward the offending hand, and bit down hard, drawing blood. The demon reeled back with a yell - fire burning in those usually gentle eyes. Then, the smack of the palm against the young girls cheek stung fiercely. She knew it would bruise. But she didn’t care. Wyn glared at her captor. Anger and the promise of vengeance reflected in her blue eyes.

“Now you stay here like a good little girl and keep quiet. I’ve gotta go break your boyfriend's heart.” It pulled out a thick roll of fabric and shoved it into Wyn’s mouth, gagging her, and tied a thick strip tightly to keep her silent. Her muffled cries diminished as she fought against the ropes binding her hands and feet. Then with a sinister smile taunting her, Wyn saw a fist flying towards her face, and everything went black once more.

.

.

.

“Sam.” The demon's voice was cold and detached. It had waited on the porch for the boy to come. It knew he would, having gathered from all the texts on the girls phone, that if she didn’t meet him that something was wrong.

The warm air hung thickly in the summer night, when Sam turned the corner onto the street, and stormed up the driveway, glaring at what he thought was Stacy Evans. Alone. That was a relief that there wasn’t another Winchester with him. That meant the boy was heading in the right direction.

“Where’s Wyn?”

Demon-Stacy smirked internally. The Boy King was shaking with anger. Good. He would need that anger if the Master’s plan was to work.

“She left.”

“Why I don’t believe you?” His voice dripping sass.

It pointed to the empty driveway, “She took off in my car an hour ago. Crying. Said she couldn’t take it anymore.”

Sam pushed passed her/it, and threw the front door open calling for Wyn. He raced upstairs to the girls room. The demon followed, playing its part well. When it caught up to Sam, the boy was standing near Wyn’s bed. Staring around the room with a look of pained disbelief. Drawers still half open, with a majority of the contents missing. The vanity in disarray. When the demon saw Sam’s eye locked on her bookshelf, it knew it won. A very specific book missing from it’s space like a gaping wound. The book the girls aunt had given her as a present for her sixth birthday. The Hobbit.

“I don’t… why would she—”
    “I was hoping you could answer that for me. She ran away to get away from you . She was terrified.” Sam stared dumbfounded. It could feel the boys pain and fear. It was so delicious. “Did you honestly think she would be with someone like you the rest of her life? She actually has a future. You want her to throw that all away for you?”

“No… she wouldn’t…”

“She would. She has. I don’t know what you said to her, but she said, ‘ Tell him, I’m sorry.’ Sam,” the demon stepped close, feigning a sympathetic look, “It’s over.”

“No.”

“She’s gone. Gone to live a better life than what you could give her... If you really love her, you need to let her go.”

 

Sam was frozen. All hope had been sucked out of him. Past the point of heartbreak, he felt a gaping black hole where his heart should be. He didn’t remember leaving the Evans home. Nor could clearly picture giving the teller at the bus station money, to catch the last bus out of Eagle Point… all he could see was her face.

They had been so happy how did things get so… he was alone. John had been livid. Dean looked betrayed, and that hurt worse than John’s anger, but less than Wyn leaving him. Honestly, he should have expected it. He thought loving her with everything he had in him was enough to shield her from that dark part of his life, but he was wrong. And Wyn knew. She knew that darkness and horror was a part of him. Once a freak, always a freak.

Sam was alone. The last thought on his mind as he looked at the sunrise, Wyn...

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Weeks passed leading into months. Each day the demon would bring down food for Wyn. Obviously the demon didn’t want to kill her, or it would have already. It had said it would break her. Taking pure delight in saying things to remind her she was all alone. No one was looking for her. That she would never get out of there.

But she’s knew she would get free. She’s would find Sam and she would explain everything. The Demon had taken great pleasure in tormenting her with the story of his heartbreak upon realizing she had abandoned him.

The thought that this thing wanted to keep her away from Sam, spurred her desire to escape… but Wyn had no clue how she would manage that. The day following the start of her incarceration, her captor had drilled shackles attached to chains on the wall. Shackles had then been locked onto her ankles and wrists. She was able to take small solace in that there was a half bath in the basement. She wouldn’t be forced the indignity of soiling herself as the demon had been “courteous” enough to allow the length of her bindings to reach the small room, from her bed. Wyn’s bed remained one of the cots, she remembered Dean and Sam using over Christmas… the thought always made her heart hurt.

Even if she was able to pick the lock on her chains, there was no way she’d be able to get through the door at the top of the stairs. The demon had installed a steel lock on the outside, so it could only be opened from the kitchen. While she was given basic sustenance each day, It seemed the plan was to keep her locked up for a long time.

There were a couple small windows in the middle of the wall near the ceiling. One day after about a month, Wyn had been brave enough to stretch the length of her chain to stack a couple boxes and climbed up, only to be filled with dismay seeing those windows locked from the outside as well. Plus, even though she wasn’t large by any means, there was no way she would be able to escape that way.

   

    From her quiet isolation, Wyn saw time pass from her dark prison. Every day she whispered a private prayer. She prayed that Sam was safe. And with constant hope, she prayed for the opportunity for her freedom. Then, every night, she escaped to her perfect paradise in her mind, where she and Sam were happy and far far from there.

    Sometime later, just before the leaves were changing, Wyn was starting to worry she was getting sick. It hadn’t gotten cold quite yet, it was only mid-September, if her tally marks were accurate. But she’d been getting increasingly fatigued, and seemed to be throwing up most of her meals. She’d even felt a weird popcorn feeling in her belly. Idly, she wondered what the demon would do if it were to come home and find her dead one day. But she forced the thought from her mind. Even if Sam left, they could still be together once she got out of there!

It wasn’t until a couple weeks after that, when her nausea was lessening, that she noticed the bloating in her belly wasn’t going away. Wyn was sitting upright, her head pressed against the cool concrete wall when she a sudden movement in her lower abdomen struck icy fear in her heart.

“Oh no! No no no no please.. .”

Wyn’s hands shot to her stomach, and there it was again. She had been in denial. She chalked all the symptoms up to the stress and trauma of being held prisoner. The fatigue, nausea, backaches, even her missed periods. But as she felt the strong distinctive kicks she knew without a doubt, she was pregnant. Suddenly, it was no longer just about her escaping, but keeping her baby alive. Her and Sam’s child. Woefully, evil is clever, and you can’t keep a secret from a demon forever.

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Chapter Text

Wyn was alone. 

Completely and utterly alone. Time passed, and the theoretical escape she continued to envision seemed further and further away. No one came looking for her. But, while she was no closer to her master escape, she had become quiet educated on how to best survive the demonic captivity mostly intact.

At the beginning, Wyn was petrified everytime she heard the locks at the top of the stairs, certain that unspeakable torture was coming. But it never did. The Demon seemed to continue Stacy’s daily routine. It had to keep up appearances after all, so no one would get suspicious. It wanted to break her. Seemingly uninterested in doing so physically, It excelled in emotional and psychological abuse. That was the first thing she learned: to isolate her mind, when the demon would start saying the sort of things that would break a young girls heart. 

The second thing was how to hide her growing belly, without making it look like she was hiding it. Using the knowledge from pregnant girls hiding it at school or even movies. Usually, feigning up a couple whimpers, cowering against the wall, looking away seemed to amuse the Demon. Though occasionally, this technique would prompt the evil creature to linger and continue tormenting her. Eventually, though, It would get bored and leave. 

 

For now things were quiet…

 

“Easy there little one,” Wyn exhaled slowly, and pressed at the painful kicks to her diaphragm back down. She smiled brightly, they were becoming more and more frequent. He, or she, was strong. “You’re gonna have your Dad’s long legs aren’t you?” Idly, she wondered if the baby would have her eyes or his. Hopefully, the baby would inherit those killer dimples. 

“You’ll like him,” Wyn continued stroking her belly affectionately, while she spoke. She tried to take as much time to talk to the baby when Demon-Stacy wasn’t in the house. Hoping to lessen the stress the baby was undoubtedly feeling. “He’s really smart. Like me, but not gonna lie, your Dad’s smarter. He’s gonna be a lawyer… and if everything works out, you’ll get to see Dean too. If he was mad about Sam leaving, I’m sure they’ll make amends with you in the picture,” she chuckled, “Your Uncle Dean… he’s wonderful. He took care of your Dad practically his whole life. Cooked for him, taught him to read, to ride a bike…” 

Her voice cut out, as a wave of emotion overcame her. As she had been prone to lately. Blinking away tears, Wyn attempted to compose herself, “Friggin mood swings… When enough time as passed, I’m totally gonna lay into Sam not being there for the pregnancy stuff, cause kid I gotta tell you, this would suck under the best of circumstances. Of course with the pickle we’re in…” Her gaze shifted around the same room she’d been staring at for months. Just a bit defeated. But that feeling would pass too. She wasn’t a little girl anymore. 

Wyn often considered what she would do when she broke free and was able to reunite with Sam. College seemed like such an inconceivable thing with a baby. Of course, she could always try a few online courses to start. That would give her freedom to educate herself in the new things that interested her. 

Things that normal people considered just folklore and ghost stories. The Winchesters had given her a taste of what was out there. But Demons… that was definitely outside her wheelhouse. And afterall, knowledge can be very powerful. 

 

Suddenly, the tell-tale sound of the Demon returning home from the hospital alerted her. She quickly pulled the blanket over her shoulders, and turned to the side. 

“Winniiie. I’m home,” It called out in a singsong voice practically skipping down the stairs. 

“Didja miss me?” Per custom, the Demon grabbed the chair at the foot of the stairs and dragged it across the floor stopped directly in front of Wyn, “How was your day?” It placed a plated sandwich and water before her and sat down. Dinner.

Quite exhausted Wyn shut her eyes and remained silent. Attempting to retreat to her happy place.

“Come on Snickerdoodle ,” It taunted, “I miss our talks. It’s like you’re mad at me or something…” Demon-Stacy paused thoughtfully. Obviously, reaching.

“Poor little orphan Bronwyn. Well - I guess technically not an orphan. Your Daddy’s just cuckoo for Coco Puffs. Might as well be dead.”

Wyn clenched her jaw.

“She never loved you ya know. Stacy.”

“Stop it,” Wyn didn’t look up. Her eyes stubbornly closed, hands stuffed into the front pocket of her oversized hoodie from beneath her blanket.

“I mean, how could she? No one wants to be stuck with some squalling brat while they’re on their own. Ended all chances of her finding love. Bye-bye social life.”

“No.” Just ignore It. It’s lying.

“Always resented you for that. She was happy… until you.”

Wyn glared sharply, taking the demon by surprise, “I know you’re lying.”

“Oh really? How’s that?”

“I can always tell when someone’s bluffing.” The demon’s face shifted. Her voice lowered, “I know what love feels like. My Aunt? She loves me. And someday I’m going to get out of here, and I’ll send you back to Hell, so help me God.”

“God? Hah!” The Demon stood tall, “God’s left the building, sweetheart. You think this world is yours? No. It’s a playground for me and my kind. And soon all of demonkind will walk the Earth. Blood, Fire, and Death will rain down on your pathetic little species. It will be glorious. Maybe…” It kneeled, placing a single finger under her chin and lifted, “Maybe someday, you’ll start to see things our way.”

Wyn jerked her face away, “Never. You evil, pathetic piece of—-.”  

The demon swung a hard punch, and smirked, “Just you wait till the boss gets a hold of you. He’s going to love you...” Running a thumb along the now broken skin on her cheek bone, It laughed. Finally, heading back upstairs. “Oh,” It turned to look back, “I almost forgot. Happy Thanksgiving!”

Wyn relaxed, her fingers instinctively went to her cheek. Then winced. She felt the baby turn and roll around sensing her distress. “It’s alright sweetheart, I’m okay. Just a scratch.”

Despite feeling exhausted she forced herself to eat the sandwich The Demon had supplied and took slow sips from the water. She had to keep up her strength for both their sakes. Something in her gut told her to look out for opportunity. It had been many months, so maybe It would slip up somehow. 

After finishing her meager sustenance, the young woman closed her eyes and laid down. She offered a prayer for Sam’s health and happiness and a prayer for the life of her child.

 

It was barely night when Wyn’s eyes opened again. A strange noise sounded from the backyard. Wyn on instant alert, she rose steadily to her feet. She saw movement in the shadows through the high windows, and was able to pick out voices. Children’s voices. Carefully, she tip-toed across, and climbed up some boxes to peek out.

“Help me find my ball! I know it landed back here somewhere,” a little boy whispered.

“I told you we can’t be here! Missus Evans will be real mad! Daddy can get it tomorrow,” Wyn recognized the urgent whisper.

“Molly!?” The figures turned abruptly to the window. Two young faces then appeared against the glass. Molly Jefferson and a little boy, Wyn now recognized as her cousin. The boy held a flashlight and shined it through the window, illuminating her prison. Her heart pounded with sudden hope. 

“Winnie?! What are you doing in there?! Daddy said you ran away,” Molly crouched down her face close to the glass eyes wide with fear.

“Molly, thank God! I need your help - Run home as fast as you can. Get your Dad, tell him to call the police. Tell them I’ve been locked down here for months.”

“What?!” 

“Please, Molly, I need you to be brave. Go as fast as you can!”

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” An angry voice came from behind her, and Wyn saw the Demon at the top of the stairs. It was furious, and then turned to race to the front door.

“Molly run! GO NOW!”

The confused, terrified children scrambled away. The sound of their running through grass, and around the side of the house carried away. Upstairs, the demon slammed the front door shut. Wyn climbed down and retreated to her corner. When It returned, she knew the kids were safe.

“You little BITCH! You’re going to regret that!” The demon stormed down the steps into the basement. 

Wyn huddled over on her knees against the wall holding the blanket around her, trying as much as possible to shield her stomach. She glared triumphantly. 

“The police are on their way. You won’t be able to smooth talk anyone away now. You lose!”

It stood shaking with rage, wearing scrubs no doubt for an upcoming shift. Then, it relaxed the face it was borrowing, rolled its neck, and sighed, “Yes, an unfortunate bump in the road,” it stepped toward Wyn and withdrew a wicked looking knife from behind its back, “but I’ve got Plans B through Z already prepped and ready to go. It was an honor to have this assignment, and yes, I’ll have to come up with a good story to cover my ass, but I am gonna enjoy this!” It raised the blade high.

Wyn terrified wrapped her arm over her stomach huddled over to protect the life inside her. She heard the sickening sound of a blade cutting through skin and muscle tissue, but felt no pain. She looked up. The knife deep in Stacy’s gut.

“NO!” The young woman cried out and forced herself to her feet. The Demon still clutched the blade embedded in Stacy’s stomach, then twisted hard. “STOP!” Wyn reached out, her chains rattled, but It pulled out and dropped the blade. Then, pinned her arms to her side. The human struggled weakly against the supernatural strength. 

“Check out the girl who just can’t say no.” Wyn saw with dismay the bloody wound pressed against her obviously pregnant belly. “You little whore,” It chuckled with malicious intent.

“Let go of me!” Wyn fought against it’s hold, eyes wide with panic.

The Demons eyes turned obsidian. “Guess I’ll have to clean up this mess, too!”

It moved It’s hand to her stomach. 

“No don’t please!”

Then a white hot pain erupted from her pelvis. Excruciating pain spread through her abdomen, and she screamed in agony. The pain radiated through her core, leaving her shaking. 

The Demon grabbed her by the chin and kissed her on the lips. Wyn nearly vomited from the pain and sheer revulsion. It broke the kiss, lips lingering over hers. 

“Farewell, sweet Bronwyn. I’ve truly enjoyed our time together. But for now this is Good-Bye. My Pale Queen.”

A screeching sound filled the basement as black smoke expelled from Stacy’s body. It smashed against the ceiling before leaving through the now broken window. Then it was quiet. Wyn was barely standing when she locked eyes with her Aunt. Stacy stood disoriented. She was back!

“Aunt Stacy?” Tears in her eyes and hope in her voice, Wyn reached out. 

Shakily, Stacy’s had trailed toward her wound. It looked bad. Then, she staggered.

“No no,” Wyn grabbed her, held her, and lowered them unceremoniously to the ground, “Aunt Stacy?! I got you - talk to me!”

Wyn peered through her watery eyes searching for strength. Cradling her loved one.

“I don’t--I d-didn’t--,” The older woman coughed, blood trickling from her mouth.

“I know, I know,” Wyn held her, tears falling freely, her hand pressed to Aunt’s bloody wound. “You’re gonna be fine. It’s fine. It’s okay,” she repeated trying to convince herself.

“Wyn, h-honey,” the woman struggled weakly, “I’m sorry. For everything,” Stacy reached up, her palm placed gently on her niece’s cheek. Wyn reached up to hold her hand in place. 

“Shh… I know. It wasn’t you. It wasn’t you. Please, hold on. Help’s on the way.”

“Snickerdoodle...” Aunt Stacy’s eyes glazed over, she took a final shuddering breath, “I love you...” and the light in her eyes flickered. It was over. Her lifeless body, being held helplessly by the young woman. Wyn cringed at the sharp pain from her belly, but ignored it for the debilitating pain in her heart. 

“NO!” Wyn screamed. Her cry stretched out until long after she felt the pain in her vocal chords. Her loud sobs echoed in the concrete space. Heartbroken cries hanging in the air. She held her Aunt’s body close, rocking back and forth. 

Then, she felt a song surface in her mind. A shimmering light from their past, and opened her mouth sounding the melancholy dirge, “ Blackbird singing in the dead of night,” her hands shaking reached up and closed the woman’s eyes gently, “ Take these broken wings and learn to fly… ” She was truly alone now. “ All your life, You were only waiting for this moment to arrive…” Distantly, she could hear sirens barreling down the street, “ Blackbird fly... Into the light of the dark black night. ” Banging sounded from the front door. 

“POLICE OPEN UP!”

Blackbird fly …”

The sound of the door being broken open, finally shook Wyn from her private moment. The last moment she would ever with her Aunt in this life. Heavy footsteps thundered into the home, scattering down the halls. A police officer rushed down the stairs into the basement, gun drawn, and stopped when he saw the young woman on the floor, holding the bloody body.

“Please…” Wyn forced through her pain and tears, “please, help me, I’m pregnant… somethings wrong!”

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Wyn sat upright and still in her hospital bed. Silent. Medical staff had long since cleaned up. She held in her arms a baby boy. He was still. No steady rise and fall of his tiny chest. Little fingers, not gripping the hand holding them. 

Trauma

That was the explanation they gave her when they handed her her dead son. 

Melissa Hale stood in the doorway to her room. She had been on the clock, about to go home when Wyn had been brought in, and refused to leave. The part of her that was present was grateful it wasn’t another doctor… or a police officer. Melissa sat next to traumatized young woman, wrapping an arm over her shoulder, just being with her.

“If you’d like, I can take some pictures,” Melissa held up a small digital camera, “I know it might not seem like it now, but you might want them someday.” The nurse’s voice was calming and gentle. 

Wyn simply nodded. And she took a few shots of Wyn holding him, and close ups of him. If you didn’t know he could almost be sleeping.

“Wyn, honey, the police wanted to ask you some questions…I told them to wait until you’re ready.” She nodded again wordlessly. “Do you have any idea why Stacy would do something like this?”

The young woman stared ahead in a trance, her mind muddling through. If she told the truth no one would believe her. Or worse, she would end up like her father. “She wasn’t herself...I don’t know. It was just like she was different. She wasn’t herself…” her eyes teared up and she looked to her aunts dear friend, “They won’t understand, but it wasn’t her fault.”

“Breathe,” The nurse stepped close to calm the rising wave of hysterics, placing her hands on the girls shoulders. “Honey, nobody’s talking to you just yet, okay? You just went through something extremely traumatic. I’m gonna give you as much time alone with him as I can.”

Wyn’s eyes lowered again to the silent still baby in her arms. Her child. Gone. “I didn’t even get the chance to meet him…”
“He’s a beautiful baby boy… I’m so sorry this happened to you.” 

There was a calm pause as they stared at the innocent being.

“Does he have a name?” 

She peered at the small bundle in her arms and fresh tears fell. 

“His name is Thomas. Thomas Winchester.” 

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The hospital kept Wyn under observation for a few days. They wanted to monitor her vitals, to ensure there were no complications from the miscarriage. During that time, Wyn was forced to endure multiple questioning from the police.

Everyone tried to piece together, how Stacy Evans, a pillar of the community, could do something so awful. Luckily, people bought into the “family history of mental illness” story. Since her father, Stacy’s brother, was institutionalized, it wasn’t a far stretch. The hospital Psychiatrist even paid her a visit to explain the symptoms of PTSD and evaluate her mental state.

Then, the financial annoyances came. First, someone from Stacy’s life insurance company informed her she was lucky. Normally, their policy wouldn’t pay out for suicides, but only if the policy was taken out in the past three years. They had tried denying her claim, but since the Evan’s estate lawyer argued Stacy had bought a policy the day she won custody of baby Wyn, so they had to pay out. Though, it would take a long time for them to process it. 

Then, real estate agents swarmed her asking if she was going to put her Aunt’s house on the market. Melissa shooed them away, once she realized what had happened. She reminded Wyn that if that’s the route she wanted to go, that the Sunday School teacher at their church had her license and would take care of it when the time came. 

It took weeks for the whole mess to be cleared up. Stacy left everything to Wyn. The house, all her possessions, everything. The Jeffersons, as well as some of the nurses from the hospital, helped Wyn donate and sell things accordingly from the house. She only kept a few things for herself. All her Aunt’s tour shirts from her “wild summer”, Stacy’s leather jacket she had admired since she was a girl, her jewelry, vinyl records, Bible, and any pictures she could find. Shawna Jefferson and Melissa both tried to convince her to put some furniture in storage, to fill her future home, but Wyn refused. She didn’t even know what her future looked like now. 

During this time, Wyn tried to contact Sam everyday. Each time she tried his number, it was disconnected. He was at Stanford, she knew that much. After some digging, she managed to get a hold of the student directory listing Sam’s dormitory. She had no idea how Sam would react after all this time. Seeing how the Demon convinced him she didn’t love him and had run away… hopefully he would hear her out, and if he did, she hoped he would forgive.

Forgive her for hurting him, for not realizing sooner what was wrong with Stacy… and for little Thomas’ stillbirth.

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Stanford’s campus was beautiful. Wyn couldn’t help, but observe the architecture and layout of the school. Warmth blossomed in her chest at the thought of Sam following his dreams here. Another part of her ached that Sam was alone and heartbroken when he reached the place he dreamed about. 

After asking for directions twice, she was finally headed the right way. It was morning, so there were only a few students out and about. When she approached the right building, she was starting to get nervous. Stomach in knots, she swallowed.
“Well, hello there! You must be new,” a voice spoke. She looked towards a young man, seated on the low wall, just outside the dorm on his laptop. He had blonde hair, styled nicely, and a confident grin on his face.. “You lost?” he asked.

“Actually, I’m looking for someone.”

“Oh? Maybe I can help! Who’s a pretty girl like you looking for?”

“Do you know Sam Winchester?”

Wyn could see he did by the look of recognition. “Yeah, I know Sam. Buddy of mine. We live on the same hall. But he’s gone to class already. He usually doesn’t get back until late.”

“Oh… do you know where?”

He shook his head sympathetically, “Sorry. I don’t know what classes he’s taking. I’m not exactly the best listener,” he laughed in a self-deprecating way. Disappointment washed over her. “If you want, I can tell him you’re looking for him. What’s your name?”
“Bronwyn.”

“Bronwyn, how pretty. The name’s Brady,” he rose to his feet and with his height towered over her. His hand extended. She shook it without a thought.

“Brady, yes, thank you! I would really appreciate it. It’s urgent,” she withdrew a letter she wrote for this exact scenario, “If you could give him this? Tell him… I need to see him. I’m staying at the Park Inn just down the way.” The letter itself was fairly vague. What she endured… it was something she needed to tell Sam to his face. He deserved that.

“Sure thing!” He took the letter, “Was planning on staying in and playing video games all day anyway. I’ll catch him when he gets back.”

“Thank you!” Wyn breathed a sigh of relief, “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this. It’s really important I see him.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll put this in his hands myself,” Brady held the envelope up and smiled.

When the young woman waved and turned to head back to the dingy motel she was staying at, the young man stood still until she was out of sight.

Brady smirked, “Sweet, sweet Bronwyn, I told you before,” the letter ignited in flames in his hand, “you’re getting ahead of schedule.” The remains of the paper crumpled into ash, floating to the ground. Black eyes peering after the young girl.

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Where is he? 

Wyn had tried to keep herself occupied with TV, but it couldn’t keep her attention. She had tried reading, but would get overwhelmed and start crying. Anxiety had worked its way deep into her mind, leaving her exhausted.

It had been hours since she left the message for Sam. When hunger struck she ordered delivery so she wouldn’t miss him. But he still hadn’t come. Worry making her so sick, she had vomited twice. She continued to wait, like a woman condemned. 

Finally, hours after sunset. There was a soft knock at the door to her motel room. Her heart raced. This was it.

“Sam!” She opened the door, and her shoulders fell. “Brady? What are you -- Where’s Sam?”

“Uh, he’s… he’s not coming.”

“...What?”

“He’s not coming.”

Her brain struggled to process the information. Slowly she stepped back, as if distancing herself from the source of such new would make it untrue. Sam wasn’t coming? “He… did he read my letter?”

 Brady sighed, “He did,” the young man stepped inside closing the door behind him, “Read it and tore it up. I’m… I’m sorry,” he struggled, seeming very uncomfortable.

Wyn lowered shakily to the foot of the bed, unable to keep upright. The pain in her heart ready to tear her apart. “I have to see him. He needs to know.” 

She reached for the leather jacket next to her, put it on, and moved to leave.

“Woah, woah, wait. Hold on…” the young man held up his hands softly, “It’s Bronwyn right?”

“Wyn.”

“Wyn… look I don’t know exactly what happened between you two, but it fucking destroyed him. He was a mess. And when he read that letter… he doesn’t want to see you. I think it would be best if you left.”

“No,” she shook her head frantically, “no I have to tell him. He needs to know what happened - that I still love him.”

“If you really love about him, you need to let him go. He’s moved on.” 

“... Moved on?” 

“Yeah. Since the beginning of the semester, actually,” the young man sheepishly stuck his hands in his pockets. “I’m really sorry.”

More than anything Wyn wanted the Earth to open up and swallow her. Her perpetual nightmare kept getting worse. Her mind filled with images of Sam with another girl. Touching, kissing, holding each other. This mystery girl had been the one to pick up the broken pieces. Wyn and Sam were supposed to be forever. She was too late...

“Is he happy?” Her voice trembled. She blinked up at Sam’s friend, through misty eyes.

“... Yeah, he is. I’m pretty sure he’s in love with her. He’s always making those dopey goo-goo eyes when she’s around.”

That was the final blow. Nothing good could possibly come from her shoving her way back into Sam’s life. It would just hurt him even more. All she could offer him was devastation and misery. Sam was better off without her. “He deserves happiness.” All that was left of her was an empty shell. “Will you… tell him for what it’s worth - I’m sorry. And I promise, I won’t bother him ever again.”

He nodded, “I’ll tell him.”

Wyn just nodded in return. 

“Hey… you gonna be okay?”

“Honestly?” Wyn huffed, “Probably not. But… I’ll live.” 

 

Brady stood at the entrance to the parking lot of the Park Inn. Watching as the old beat-up Civic drove into the night taking Bronwyn Evans far away from Sam Winchester. Azazel was going to be very pleased. They needed to be groomed, and plucked at the right time.

“Bye-bye Snickerdoodle!” He laughed out loud at his own joke. 

The possessed college student then made his way to the popular bar near campus, that never carded. He needed to put the next part of his plan into action. Upon entering, his eyes scanned the crowd. Seeking the perfect sacrificial lamb. Then he saw her. Wavy blonde hair, gorgeous smile, and small beauty mark on her face. 

“Jessica! Pretty lady how you doing?” She looked up and rolled her eyes playfully. 

“What do you want Brady?” Jessica was sitting in a booth with two other students from their hall. Emily and Zach were a new couple, perhaps that would make her more inclined to his suggestion. Splendid .   

“You’re still single right?”

“Smooth. Very smooth. You win over all the girls like that?” Jessica laughed, then took a long sip from her bright colored drink and Brady slide in alongside her.

“Not asking for me! I happen to know a charming eligible gentleman who would be perfect for you!”

“Who?” she played along.

“Sam Winchester!”
“Oh my gosh!” Emily exclaimed, “You guys would be so cute together! Zach wouldn’t they be cute together?”

The guy just shrugged, matchmaking not his forte. 

“Sam Winchester, huh?” Jessica pondered, “He’s smart, nice… not to mention incredibly hot.”

“Say no more,” Brady clapped his hands together once and grinned, “I’ll make the arrangements. Trust me you won’t regret it!” The plan was back on track. All the pieces working together. And these pathetic humans had no idea what was coming.

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Wyn felt utterly alone.

 

Broken.

 

The engine roared, as she sped recklessly down the dark lonely highway. She pulled the car over to the side of the dusty road. Tears dangerously blurred her eyes. After opening the car door and slamming it behind her, she screamed into the night. The sound echoed eerily. It was a cry of absolute devastation. She crumpled to the ground, unable to hold herself upright, as all-consuming sobs wracked her form.

The universe had beaten her down. She shivered on the cold road, not particularly caring if a car ran her over. After all what did she have to live for? A father who didn’t even know her, who couldn’t know her anymore? Everyone that held her up, had been ripped away. Stacy, Sam… their baby. 

It was like she could still feel, Thomas, dying inside her. When that thing put It’s hand on her, and -- suddenly, something crept to the forefront of her mind. Her sobs stopped suddenly, and she froze. Something the Demon had said. Not realizing at the time, because she was in such pain. What did It call her?

 

“My Pale Queen.” That’s what It said…

 

Sinister intent hid behind the Demon’s words. The title filled her gut with icy dread. But in that moment she made a promise to herself. Something bigger was going on here. And when something came for her again - Wyn would be more than ready. 

The young woman stood, straightening up tall. Her eyes looked to the horizon. She could see a hint of an orange glow appearing in the Eastern sky. 

Well, Wyn thought, What doesn’t kill you… will regret trying.

Chapter Text


If one were to observe the daily life of Bronwyn Evans, one might be inclined to tell her to take a break. Every day of her college career was filled with seemingly unending classes. And each spare moment Wyn had, was spent studying self defense. After swearing she would do whatever she could to protect herself, should the supernatural try to force its way back in her life. 

Of course, Wyn was in rough shape that first semester. She allowed herself to fall into a cycle of self destruction. Drinking at all hours of the day, barely going to class. But her academic advisor had a ‘Come to Jesus’ meeting with her, as he had called it. The middle aged head of the Neuroscience department, pulled her into his office, and laid everything out for Wyn. That she had to turn things around or she would be kicked out of school, and that she was too smart for that. She had the chance that summer to turn things around. 

In order to catch up with her courses, Wyn took the maximum number of credit hours she could squeeze into a semester. Then stayed on campus over breaks, and took classes for each summer and winter session. Both classes for her degree, and extracurricular interests: Folklore & Mythology, Ancient Greek, and any supernatural related subject she could find. But she was unsuccessful in her search for any references to a “Pale Queen” in demonology that she could find. Granted the available books weren’t particularly plentiful. Maybe, the truth would never be known. 

Classmates, that she eventually befriended, often teased her. Comparing her to Hermione Granger when she used the time turner to take as many classes as possible. After three years of working her ass off, she was on schedule to graduate early that December. 

No one knew, but after exams, when there was a week or so before the next round of classes, Wyn would drive to Kansas. To visit her father. A man who no longer lived in reality, who couldn’t give her love, or her need for family. But he was her Dad, and she loved him. The only person left Wyn could give her love to.


Through all of her experiences, Wyn felt accomplished, yet hardened. The past still would pop in her mind and she had to fight off the inevitable depressive episode. She didn’t smile like she used to. And while she wasn’t the same lonely, anxiety filled girl she was in Eagle Point, her social circle was fairly small. The only people she had daily contact with were her three roommates. 

Wyn met Terrance and Tiffany in Greek History sophomore year. Those two were dating by the end of that semester, which was an interesting sight. Terrance, a pre-med student, wanted to be a Pediatrician. But he didn’t really look the part, with his rebellious bad-boy style of sleeve tattoos, motorcycle and dark shaggy hair. Tiffany, wanted to be a kindergarten teacher, and was pretty much the personification of Beth from Little Women : abundantly kind, caring, and she even played piano. Her light brown hair, fell in soft waves framing her caramel brown eyes.

On the surface, they didn’t mix, but Wyn could tell… those two were made for each other. As a matter of fact, a few weeks into the fall semester, Terrance confided in Wyn. He planned on asking Tiffany to marry him on their anniversary. Wyn, obviously, shoved down her own past hurt, and told him she wanted to help anyway she could. They had become quite close, as close as Wyn would allow herself, over the years. 


Now, their other roommate… Well, that roommate wasn’t the easiest person to get along with. Particularly, in late November just before winter graduation, and the day before Terrance and Tiffany’s anniversary. When Wyn was woken up to blaring music coming from the room next to hers. My Chemical Romance playing at full volume. 

Now, she enjoyed a good emo rock band as much as the next angsty college student, but she had her limits. Wyn blindly reached to the floor next to her bed, fumbled until she managed to snag a lone shoe and threw it against the far wall hard. 

“TURN DOWN THE FRIGGIN MUSIC OR I’LL END YOU!”

The sound of footsteps, the music volume lowering, then the opening sound of her door revealed her rather self-absorbed, puckishly rogue housemate. She stood leaning against the doorframe wearing pajama pants and a sports bra, her blonde pixie hair sticking out at odd ends. Hip popped to the side, arms crossed, and a satisfied smirk saying it was my goal to ruin your morning .

“Goodness me, Princess. Someone’s in a pissy mood,” she flipped the lights on just to put salt in the wound.

Wyn squeezes her eyes shut, and let out an exasperated breath, her lips buzzing on the release. Choosing not to acknowledge the undesirable nickname, “Bite me. My head’s killing me.”

“Again?”

“More like still. It’s like a constant ache with the occasional ice pick stabbing my brain just for fun,” Wyn grabbed the bottle of painkillers from her bedside table and downed three pills with a big gulp of water.

“Maybe you’ve got a brain tumor.”

A perfect bitch face accompanied Wyn’s middle finger, “Shut up Meg.”

The blonde smirked again, and turned on her heel bounding downstairs, where Wyn could hear their roommates up and bustling in the kitchen. 

Meg Masters was… a challenging friend to have. 

Somehow she had managed to cling on to her friendship with Wyn since their freshman year. Not exactly a good influence, but she was loyal. There was an incident the spring they met. Wyn got passed out drunk at a party, wallowing in her own self-pity. Apparently, some frat douche tried something with her, but Meg decorated the sidewalk with his face. Took three guys to pull her off him. 

Despite Meg’s lack of tact, and absolutely no manners to speak of, she had kept an eye on Wyn. Especially, during a time she needed it most. 

That being said Meg was kind of a bitch.

.

“Wyn you’re looking a little green. You alright?” Terrence grimaced, as Wyn entered the kitchen, now dressed and ready for the day. Meg and Tiffany sat at the table in the breakfast nook.

Wyn simply pointed to her head, then took the offered cup of black coffee he held out and leaned against the counter, taking deep slow sips. A contented sigh escaped her lips at the warm sensation in her throat. 

“Rough,” he pulled out another mug and poured himself a drink, “What’s your day look like?”

“I think I’m gonna go to the health center right now. My headaches aren’t getting any better. After, I got class until 1. Chem Lab at 2:30pm. Then I’ll probably study at the library until my Tae Kwon Do class.”

“You sure you’re up for all that?”

“Won’t know until I try,” Wyn chugged the remainder of the hot coffee, burning down her throat.

“Oh, do you still have time to pick up… ya know?” The young man spoke under his breath, trying to be inconspicuous.

“Don’t worry. I’m gonna before Chem. I can meet you after your last class,” Wyn winked at him. He grinned bashfully, and they both peered fondly across to Tiffany doing her best to ignore Meg. Her nose buried deeply in her book. Without the others noticing, he passed her his ID and credit card, so she wouldn’t have any trouble at the jewelry store. “Whelp, I’m out. Bye peeps!”

Tiffany looked up from her book, “Wait, Wyn! We’re having a movie night tonight, you should join us.” 

“Um… maybe. If I’m feeling any better. What movie?”

The Notebook !” 

“Ehh,” Wyn groaned, “I’ll think about it,” and then promptly left leaving the three other students in the kitchen.

“Is Wyn okay? She seems really…” Tiffany searched for the words.

“All work and no play?” Meg supplied.

“That time of the month?” Terrance chuckled in pure guy fashion, and received a sharp smack on the back of the head from his girl into that fall semester “What?! What’d I say?”

Meg rolled her eyes and spoke up, “Nah, Wyn just hates romantic crap.”

“What? How could anyone not like The Notebook ?” Tiffany asked.

Meg lifted her brow. “She never told you about what happened?”

The two shook their heads simultaneously. “You’re the one who’s been her roommate since freshman year,” Terrance said. 

“Yeah, she’s always been really private.”

“That’s ‘cause ‘Perfect Princess’ wasn’t always so perfect. Spring semester freshman year, she had a bit of a drinking problem.”

“No way! Wyn? Bronwyn-Freakin-Gold-Star-Student-Evans?” Terrance asked befuddled.

 “Yup. One night, Wyn got super weepy drunk. Told me some craaazy shit. Long story short... just before she turned nineteen, her Aunt went nuts and locked her in their basement for months.”

The couples jaws dropped appropriately. 

“Yeah! I know, but it gets worse. Seems before her boyfriend blew town, he knocked her up. But she miscarried ‘cause of the trauma or whatever. Princess never really moved on. I think she only had a single one-night stand like two years ago or something. Since then, she’s been totally anti-social and anti-dating.”

“Fuck…” Terrance stood silent, staring at the front door where she had exited just moments before.

“That’s terrible,” Tiffany’s eyes big. “I can’t believe she’s been through so much. Would she be okay with you telling us this? All that personal stuff?”

Meg shrugged, “Secrets, secrets are no fun, unless you share with everyone.”

Tiffany shook her head and stood up in a huff then marched straight for upstairs. Grumbling she needed to get ready for the day. Terrance regarded Meg with a look. 

“Anyone ever tell you you’re kind of a bitch?”

“Everyday,” Meg grinned.

.

.

.

“Miss Evans?” A doctor peeked his head in the door, before entering with a med student by his side. Must’ve been there to observe.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Wyn managed a weak grin sitting on the patient table.

“I’m Dr. Wells, this is Nicole she’ll be shadowing me today. I understand you’re here for some bad headaches, huh?” he extended his hand for her to shake. 

“Hi! Yes, I--” Wyn took the man’s hand about to list off her symptoms, but was instantly hit by a hot stabbing pain behind her eyes. Triggered, her body tensed as she doubled over crying out. All now familiar symptoms of her recent headaches… until her vision changed. Suddenly, the image of the doctor blurred, and a strange scene appeared in her mind and she fell into the vision. 


Dr. Well’s stood next to a young female student. Nicole. They were alone in his office. The girl stood back pressed against a bookcase. He quickly locked the door. Horrified, Wyn saw the doctor slowly begin to lower his hand down the student’s pants, fondling her. The girl tried to push him away, but he just pressed his body hard against hers, and whispered in her ear. “Shhh…” he soothed his victim, “It’s alright. Don’t worry, it’s okay…”


When Wyn’s vision returned to normal, she was confused and filled with a foreign predatory feeling. Above her she saw the ceiling, and she felt the cold tile floor beneath her. Dr. Well’s shined a light into her eyes above her, and saw Nicole looking down at her as well. 

“Bronwyn? Can you hear me?”

The young woman overwhelmed with nausea, tried to sit up, but the pain radiating through her skull made her fall back, “What happened?” 

“At first I thought you might have been having a seizure. You tensed up, screamed, and fell down onto the floor. Are you experiencing double vision?”

“N-No, I don’t… God it hurts,” she brought her hands to shield her eyes from the light. 

Dr. Wells and the med student helped her back onto the patient table. 

“Was this a typical episode for what you've been experiencing?”

“Not.. really,” she stumbled through, still reeling trying to ground herself, “The pain yes definitely. But this time, it was like my sight went away, and I’ve never collapsed like that before.” And I certainly haven’t hallucinated yet.

“Pupil dilation is atypical for typical migraines. I’m going to order a CT scan, to eliminate the possibility of a foreign object or tumor pressing of the optical nerve,” the doctors expression was puzzled, as he turned to the med student assisting him, instructing them on his next move.

Wyn watched their interaction, but was lost in her mind. What the hell just happened?


After the incident at the health care center, the doctor advised her to take the rest of the day off. She had explained her daily schedule, and after not seeing anything odd on her scans, the staff was perplexed as to the reason. A feeling a dread remained in her gut, but she conceded, and emailed her professors that she was unwell. Seeing how she never skipped class anymore, she knew it wouldn’t be an issue.

Good thing, since classes were the last thing on Wyn’s mind. Upon leaving the health center she bumped into a student entering, and she saw flashes of that same student taking an exam, an answer sheet hidden in their lap. Then, in the middle of the main avenue on campus, one of the fraternity brothers she partied with freshman year, picked her up in a massive friendly hug. And the image of him kissing his roommate on a single bed swam before her. 

It continued to happen again and again. By the time she managed to stumble out of the jewelry store after she picked up Terrance’s ring, Wyn was quite certain she was going crazy. There were spots in her field of vision and tears pooled in the corners of her eyes. With shaky hands the young woman pulled her phone from her pocket, and texted the only person she could trust. Meg.


W to M: 911 meet me at that coffee place in the student center. 

M to W: cya in 5

.


“I think I’m losing my mind.” Wyn’s hands shook around her to-go cup of hot tea.

“What’s up?” Meg asked looking concerned, placing her bag on the floor next to her.

“I keep… seeing things.”

“Seeing things?”

“In my head. When I touch people, I don’t know, I--- could swear I can see into their minds. Like, thoughts, or memories or I don’t know, but I can’t control it.”

“Okay, breathe. Maybe you’re just having like weird hallucinations from your headaches. What did the health center say?”

“Nothing helpful. They did a CT scan, but it was normal I saw the scan myself.” Wyn frantically ran her hand through her hair.

“Look, don’t freak out. You’re probably just pushing yourself too hard. It’s the end of the semester, super stressful time. Tell you what,” Meg put her hand on Wyn’s and she was relieved nothing happened, “Tonight, you, me and Tiffany. We have a girls night, have ice cream, do facials, the whole nine yards. Tiff and Terrance’s date isn’t until tomorrow, so it’ll be perfect.”

“I just... can’t shake how real it feels. When I see these visions or whatever, it’s like I’m seeing it through their eyes. I even… I feel what they feel.”

“... Okay, I’m intrigued?”

“Today at the health center, when I shook the doctors hand I saw him… touching a med student. And at the store earlier, when the teller handed me back the credit card, I could see her stealing from the cash register late at night. That’s just two visions. It’s been happening all day…”

Meg beheld her with an odd expression. Unfamiliar to her face. Then, “Yeah, you definitely need a break. I’m gonna head back home, you wanna come with?” 

The young woman simply shook her head, explaining she had plans to meet up with Terrance after his final class. Meg bid her farewell, telling her to make sure she hydrated and take it easy until going home. Wyn nodded her head still pounding. 

What the hell was she going to do? The young girl’s brain wracked, trying to find some explanation for what was happening to her. It couldn’t be hallucinations. They changed too dramatically, and she would only see the people she was touching. Maybe… she thought of what the Winchesters had managed to teach her before it all went to Hell. 

There were things in this world that couldn’t be explained. And not just monsters and spirits. John had mentioned some hunters with psychic abilities. Some active, some retired. Wyn looked down at her palms. With her past, it wouldn’t be the craziest idea. She closed her eyes and exhaled through a bought of pain. 

Taking her time, she began walking to the building where Terrance had his final class of the day. She knew he would be nervous as hell, since he’d have the engagement ring in hand. His decision to ask Tiffany to marry him, all the more real. A smile crossed her face at the thought of Terrance all nervous and flustered with Tiff looking at him with curiosity, completely unsuspecting his intentions.

She sat on a bench in front of his building, and waited. Absentmindedly, she fingered the charm on her necklace. The corded leather was worn slightly from over the years, but the pearl and silver charm remained pristine. Wyn had looked up what the symbol meant years ago. It was an old celtic symbol for protection of a loved one. Two lines crossed, with two hands clasping a heart with a crown etched on top. It was actually a merging of two symbols: the Ailm symbol and the Claddagh ring. The origin she traced to a Wicca who made it for the woman he loved, a few centuries prior. 

Wyn didn’t cry about it anymore, but the pain in her heart she knew would never go away. Sam

“Hey Wyn!” Terrance hollered out, and her gaze lifted to see him jogging towards her in the dimly lit night. “Didja get it?”

“Done and done,” she rose to her feet, and pulled out the credit card, ID, and ring box. When he reached to take them from her, his fingers brushed her skin. 

“AHH!” she cried out in pain, her now empty hands clutched her head. Barely aware of the arms of her friend holding her upright, Wyn doubled over, as her sight faded into another vision. 


A frozen pond. White snow fell gently onto the icy surface. Tiffany and Terrance bundled in warm jackets, scarves and hats, stood together on the ice. Tiffany’s expression nervous but focused. Terrance uttering words of encouragement, as he showed her how to position her skates. The young man held her hands and she wobbled. He skated backwards holding her and helping keep balance. 

“You got it, just gently push your feet slightly back and to the side. There you go!”

Tiffany smiled shakily as she moved slowly, then her eyes went wide. Her body fell forward. Terrance moved to keep her standing, but he went down too. He, hit the ice first, and broke Tiffany’s fall. 

“Oh God, I’m so sorry, are you okay?” She asked concerned.

Tiffany scrambled her body around, and leaned over Terrance who was flat on the ice on his back. He just laughed, as she examined him with worried eyes. A warmth blossomed in his chest, and Wyn became overwhelmed by the euphoric emotion she hadn’t felt in years. Love. Adoration. Pure devotion.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” she asked, her gloved hands rubbing at her cheeks.

“You’re so beautiful.”

She blushed, her cheeks growing scarlet in addition to the bite of the cold air. “Stop it,” she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Never,” he grinned broadly, “I love you.”

“I love you, too!” Tiffany’s smile was brighter than the morning sun. The warmth of her love wrapped him up and surrounded him. When she brought her lips to his, their kiss sent him soaring. Her soft sweet lips, against his chapped ones. He had never been so happy. Wyn could feel everything.


“WYN! Hey, can you hear me?!”

Wyn looked up startled, still feeling emphatically raw, but… good. The vision melted away, and she just saw Terrance’s eyes wide and confused.

“What the hell was that? You okay?”

Wyn threw her arms around Terrance and wrapped him in a tight hug, “You’re a wonderful person you know that?” After all the crappy shit she’d been seeing all day, this was like a gift from above. 

“Uhh,” he returned the hug, “Thanks? You- You’re hugging me. You never hug people! Maybe we should--”

“You and Tiffany are going to be so happy.” She said with such assurity, he blinked. He pulled back, and looked into her eyes, searching for any reason for medical emergency that would be causing her to act so out of character. 

“Wyn, I…” his mouth opened and closed. And finally broke into a conceding grin, “Thank you. I’m glad we’re friends.”

“Awww, you like me. You really like me!” she teased, suddenly feeling much better.

“Alright, alright, come on. Let’s get you pumped full of painkillers and in bed,” they turned to start making their way home. The sidewalk leading off campus. 

“No can do. I’m being roped into a girl’s night.” 

“Ah, well I’m sure Tiff would tuck you in bed herself, if you’re feeling bad enough.”

“Yeah, she probably would,” Wyn bumped his shoulder playfully. “You don’t need to be nervous, by the way. She’s gonna say yes.”
“You think?” He tucked the ring box safely in his coat pocket. 

“Hundred bucks says she cries.”

Obviously, Wyn had a lot to consider. If she was psychic, she had no idea what her future would entail. And she would need help. She sighed, knowing what she had to do. It was time to track down John Winchester. But for now, she was going to help someone who deserved happiness.

.

.

.

“Meg, hey!” Tiffany stood in the doorway of Bronwyn’s closet. “Wyn said I could raid her closet for mine and Terr’s date. Which one do you think?” The sweet girl held up two nearly identical dresses with long sleeves and a v-neck. one white, one black.

“The white one definitely.”

“Yeah?” Tiffany laid the black dress down the bed, and stripped down to her underwear. Then, pulled the white dress over her form. She smiled and turned to the mirror, “I think you’re right,” her gaze returned to her housemate. “Thank you, by the way, for insisting tonight be a girl’s night. I feel like we haven’t gotten to spend much quality time together this year. After all,” she put the black dress back in the closet, “we don’t have much time left together.”

“No, I guess we don’t,” Meg tilted her head, and flicked her wrist. 

In an instant, the human girl was pinned to the ceiling. Her eyes filled with bewildered terror, “Meg?!” Then she screamed when an invisible line cut into her abdomen, and blood began to drip into the blonde’s outstretched hands. Meg’s eyes shifted to their natural black, and with a blink ignited the room in a supernatural blaze. The demon chuckled at the suffering of her helpless victim.

Tiffany whimpered in pain, unable to move, fighting for breath. The fire creeping towards her. Meg whispered the incantation she knew so well, eyes looking down into the pool of blood in her hands.

“Father… it’s time. The Pale Queen’s abilities have presented.”

“...”

“It has been my honor.”

“...”

“Already done. I’ll come meet you,” and released the blood cupped in her hands. The demon grinned ear to ear, reveling in the pain above her, and the blistering heat destroying the room around them. The deliciously sick smell of burning flesh filled her nostrils, as she brought her fingers to her lips, and licked the sweet innocent blood from her hands. She stepped close to the window without touching the flames, and could see a crowd already gathered on the street, two familiar faces front and center. From the ceiling, the human girl screamed as her body was destroyed by the fire.

“See you around Princess …”

Then, in the blink of an eye she was gone. 

.

.

.

Terrance and Wyn weren’t worried when they heard sirens. A common occurrence in a college town. But when they saw the blaze from the end of the street. They exchanged looks of nervous dread and picked up the pace. Moving quickly down the street, until their home came into view.

“Oh God…” Terrance uttered. Smoke came through the windows and an intense blaze lit up the room next to the upper corner room. They ran to the front yard, neighbors already crowded in the streets. 

“That’s-- that’s my room…” Wyn’s heart filled with icy fear, accompanied by an eerie deja vu. Then there was a scream from the house.

“TIFFANY!” Terrance screamed out, and they both made a move for the front door, but were held back by onlookers. The desperate boy punched the neighbor restraining him and rushed into the house.

“TERRANCE NO!”

The sound of blood pumping was all that filled her ears. All she could do was watch in horror as her friend raced into danger, unable to do anything to stop it. Her eyes were glued to her window, to the flames where a shadowy figure stood looking out her window. A cold chill shot through her veins despite the intense heat. As she stared back in abject terror, she could swear there was something familiar about the figure. Then it vanished. Leaving behind the remains of the life she had worked so hard to rebuild. 

It’s my fault. All my fault. They’re… gone, because of me. 

A cracking sound broke the silence in her little bubble. Without any further warning, the floor fell out from the upstairs, spreading the fire to the lower level. Wyn screamed out, and collapsed to the ground in shock. Despite her preparing for the worst, making herself strong, it wasn’t enough. Evil still found her. 

Evil would always find her.

.

.

.

The sirens no longer sounded, but red and white lights lit up the perfectly normal street. Steam lifted from the burning ashes of the home. It was a cold night, but Wyn barely felt it as she sat in the back of an ambulance wrapped in a trauma blanket. Firefighters were talking about how weird the fire behaved. That is spread much faster than normal. ‘Possible Arson’ was tossed around, but no one had any answers. 

And they wouldn’t find any. Wyn knew deep down that what caused the fire wasn’t of this world. A preternatural force haunting her that wouldn’t stop until it got what it wanted. She just had no one idea what that was. 

Two black body bags were lifted into the coroner's truck, causing her heart to fall. They had been able to identify Tiffany and Terrance’s bodies. Meg was still missing. She just prayed to God, Meg got distracted on the way home and stopped off at a friends or maybe the store to pick up wine. Hopefully, she was okay.

For the tenth time in half an hour, Wyn’s phone vibrated. The caller id showing a Kansas area code. Just leave a message damnit! She flipped the phone open, and answered in a defeated monotone.

“Look now is really not a good time, so whatever you’re selling--”

Miss Evans it’s Dr. Nora Sahakin from Kansas State Mental Hospital… ” 

Wyn blinked processing the words on the other line. “Doctor… Dr. Sahakin of course, look, can I call you back?”

I’m afraid it’s rather urgent. I’m calling about your father.

“...What about my father?”

Chapter Text

Thomas Evans lay in his hospital bed the stillest Wyn had ever seen her father, without having to be sedated. Previous good visits usually included him mumbling, eyes not focused on the people around him. Bad visits were always short. When he became hysterical screaming at the demons to leave his family alone, staff would have to sedate him and strap him to his bed for his own safety.

“Hey Daddy…” She leaned close to kiss his forehead, but pulled back at the last second. 

From the time Wyn entered the hospital to the second she sat down, she was very careful. Not once did she touch anyone. She was able to pass it off as being sick. Thankfully the headaches were nearly gone, but she still couldn’t control what happened if she touched someone. Despite the urge to reach out for her father, she feared what she might see.

So, there she sat wringing her hands on the side of the bed.

“Sorry it took me so long. It’s been rough past few days.” Tiff and Terrance dead, murdered by the demon, and Meg still missing. The police hadn’t found a single trace of her. A part of her hoped Meg was dead, rather than the alternative of the demon torturing her because of their friendship. But there was a sliver of hope she clung to that she would see her friend again someday.

“The Doctors said they aren’t sure why you’re…” Wyn couldn't finish out loud. Dying. She swallowed, “But they said you aren’t feeling any pain. Though they might just be saying that.” 

Her heart ached. After all the horrible evil that had consumed her loved ones, she honestly wasn’t sure how much more she could take. The universe could cut it out any day now. 

Thomas took a raddled breath. Wyn grieved for all that he would miss. After everything, she wouldn’t have her father there anymore. So lost she was in her thoughts, that she did not see her father’s eyes fly open wide. His urgent gaze searched around, then looked up into her radiant face. He grabbed her hands shocking his daughter. 

“Daddy?” When their eyes locked, Wyn knew that this was the part of her father that hadn’t seen light in years. Then he spoke: as if the very balance of the universe depended on his words, “Bronwyn… Evil cannot corrupt pure love. Your soul… the twin soul is key.” Through the touch with her father, she fell into a vision of what he saw. What he saw that fateful night.

 

It was his final gift to her. She saw it all, and felt. Fire. Heat. The smell. Wyn choked on the stench of burning flesh and sulfur.

Yellow. Yellow eyes looking down into the crib, the room ablaze. A woman screaming for her child, frozen in fear on the ceiling. A father rushing in trying to stop it, as if he had the power to. Thomas froze in the doorway at the image of his innocent beloved wife burning alive, then his eyes widen with recognition seeing the dark figure standing over his daughter’s crib, along with the familiar sulfuric smell. 

“Y-You -- NO! You said no one would get hurt!”

The dark figure smirked with malice before disappearing from the tragic scene. The father grabbed the screaming child, after seeing the evil phantom fade from view. The two fled for their lives. 

“My fault, all my fault…” Thomas uttered through tears, rocking his infant daughter in his arms.

A demon with Yellow Eyes had killed her mother... And her father knew why.  

 

The room felt cold from the contrast of the flames from her vision, as she returned to the physical world. Wyn stared down in shock, to see her father’s body taut like a bowstring. Her grip tightened on his hands in a panic. 

She had to hold him there with her. 

Then, Thomas Evans let out a long breath and stilled once more. Finally, his eyes closing gently in an eternal sleep. The machine next to him sounding out a single long tone.

The young woman gasped out as her father's grip went limp, “Dad?” She shook him by the shoulder, “No! No no Daddy! Open your eyes!” Not now. Not after what she had just seen. She wasn’t ready.

“HELP! SOMEONE HELP!”

.

.

.

Icy grass crunched beneath the thick boot heels on Wyn’s feet. The old family burial plot was one of the only elements left from the Evans Family legacy. The double gravestone marker for her parents stood stark in comparison to the plain cold ground. Fresh upturned earth, from the recent burial of her father’s ashes, stood out like his final words. The words that still haunted her.

Evil cannot corrupt pure love… the twin soul is key.

Next to them, nestled in the ground stood a marker for Stacy‘s urn. Grass had grown back showing the healing of her own loss. Then on the other side of her parents she had buried little Tommy. 

Here they all were. All that remained of the Evan’s name was her. Her and her plot of dead family. Wyn let out a gentle exhale, kneeled and placed her hand to her sons name. 

Thomas Evan Winchester -  November 29, 2002

"Hey there, baby boy."

Whenever thoughts of her son crossed her mind, he was always “Tommy”. She wasn't quite sure why, but it always made her smile. Dean probably would’ve given him the nickname anyway given the opportunity. 

The buzz of her cell phone, signalling a missed call, pulled her from her private moment. That would be the utility worker arriving for their appointment. No time for her to wallow anymore. 

“Wish me luck,” Wyn spoke aloud to the gravestones. She had been avoiding this, but since the paperwork had been filed, it was official. She was the sole owner to the Evans Estate. Which included the farm house, the entire property that stretched over several acres, and the financial heap her mother had inherited. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about money for a while. 

 

After a few tedious meetings with the banker who handled all the affairs of the family since Wyn was born, they had set up a trust to pay for all continuing expenses and taxes until she figured out what to do with it. Probably sell off most of it, and keep a couple acres with the house. She began the short walk back from the graveyard to the homestead. It was the end of a long week of dealing and she wanted very much to sleep for the next month.

When she turned the corner, a portly middle aged man, wearing overalls and a thick work coat stepped out of a clunky pick up truck parked in her gravel driveway. The man waved as she continued toward him, rosy cheeks visibly stood out on his friendly face. 

Wyn greeted him professionally. Thick gloves allowed her to shake the man's hand without repercussion. His name was George. They exchanged pleasantries, then he went off to turn on the main gas line and water pump to the home. The man worked diligently, while Wyn made herself busy going through the moving boxes in the living room. 

It was slim decor for the time being. Minimal furniture left behind from the beginning that had been covered in sheets until that morning, stood starkly in otherwise empty rooms. Boxes that had been delivered earlier that day lined the hallway, and entryways to the kitchen/dining room and living room. 

The plentiful space in the living room delighted Wyn secretly. She already had plans of lining the walls with bookshelves. However, she would need to clean the whole place from top to bottom before making it a home. There was some minor cosmetic work that needed to be done around the house as a result of years of minimal upkeep. After a while, George approached her sifting through boxes in the front hall, informing her his work was complete. 

The man handed her the invoice to look over and sign. As she examined the paper carefully, the worker cleared his throat and asked with a hesitant grin, “So… is it true what they say about this place?”

“Depends. What do they say?” She signed the form and handed it and his pen back.

He scoffed, “Well, that it’s haunted of course!”

Wyn shrugged, eyes rolling subtly, “Couldn’t tell ya. Haven’t lived here in over twenty years. First night since I was a baby.”

“Right. Well, local kids have been known to try and break in. Not looking for trouble mind ya. Ya know how kids are, just stupid dares, trying to see a ghost and all that. But you still might wanna look into a home security system. ‘Specially with you out here by yourself, Miss.”

“That’s not a bad idea, thank you,” she refrained from telling him she could take care of herself. He seemed like a decent enough guy, and probably didn’t mean any offense. She held open the front door and followed him to his truck into the crisp midday air.

“Alright, then Miss Evans. The pump to the well’s turned on. I’ll send one of my team out in the next day or two to make sure the pipes are behavin’ themselves. Best to have em inspected after the first big freeze just to be sure of no cracks and such. Gas tank looks in fine shape. Been maintained pretty good. Here’s my card,” he held out the business card, dirt under his fingernails prominent, “Just give me a holler if there’s any issues.”

“Thank you, I will.”

“Have a nice day, and welcome home!” The nice man tipped the brim of his trucker hat, got into his truck and pulled away. Finally, Wyn turned back to the house. The front windows stared out a her, calling her back to her childhood origins. 

“Welcome Home indeed.”

 

The rest of the day was a dizzying blur of cardboard boxes, bubble wrap, and aggressive cleaning. After a few hours of organizing her new/old home, Wyn’s body was crying for sustenance. There hadn’t been an opportunity to fully stock the fridge. All she had at the moment was some bare necessities in the kitchen cabinets. Happily, she recalled a Chinese take out menu that had been wedged into the side of her mailbox and promptly placed a large order. Hopefully it would keep enough for leftover breakfast in the morning. 

Wyn continued to work until well after it grew dark. After the long week, sleep was calling her, and she gratefully made her way up to her room with her newly set up bed. Silently, she thanked herself for caving and paying the moving guys to set it up for her, and changed into her long drawstring sleep pants with the Gryffindor House crest on the side and and fitted zip-up hoodie. Then, remembering she recovered her recently purchased weapon, she tucked her shotgun filled with salt rounds under the bed.

After all... a gal couldn't be too careful out here. Especially with evil supernatural forces that may or may not be following her. Then, all snuggled up she crawled contentedly under the sheets. Mentally she prepared herself for the following day. Would she really be able to just move on with her life? What the hell was she going to do? These thoughts buzzed in her mind before she drifted into a light sleep.

 

A scream shattered the peaceful dream Wyn was having.

The young woman sat up sharply, and reached for the sawed off shotgun. A woman’s scream had woken her. Now wide awake and alert, she crept towards the door on socked feet and gun raised. Years of research and training kicked in. 

The instant, and noticeable, drop in temperature told her, most likely, there was a spirit. So, she thought she was prepared when she looked into the empty room next to hers. Utter terror filled her, though, when she realized nothing could have prepared her for this. 

A bright blaze made her eyes squint, her hand flying up to block the light. Then she looked past the barrel of the gun, and saw the room was still empty except for a figure pinned to the ceiling, flames spread out without burning.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Wyn knew what she was seeing. After all she had already seen this scene. But she could not stop the complete paralyzing fear that filled her. Her scream was unearthly and tore at her vocal chords. The young woman turned and ran. 

No --- It can’t be!

Wyn bolted down the stairs, her gun landing hard at the bottom. When she reached the door, she flung it open throwing herself out of the home not feeling the bitter cold. Breath coming in deep gasps and strangled cries. She turned making sure the specter hadn’t followed her, and didn’t see the certain someone standing in the front yard. Someone she ran right into. Another frightened yell escaped her as she felt strange hands grab her, but then she recognized the leather-jacket wearing figure. 

“Bronwyn! Are you alright?? What happened?!”

“Mr. Winchester?”

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.

.

Wyn sat across from John Winchester in a booth in a 24 hour diner just down the road. The waitress had given them an odd look the moment they stepped inside. She couldn’t blame her. A man of John’s age looking rough, obviously not having slept in a while, with a young woman with no shoes, messy hair, wearing pajamas and said man’s jacket that was far too large for her frame. John had managed to disarm the waitresses concerns with his patent Winchester charm, requesting two coffees. 

Wyn clutched the jacket around her, and tucked her socked feet underneath her body trying to warm up. She was still shaking from the shock. The last thing she expected was to see any Winchester again, and low and behold, here came John out of nowhere.

“Take a breath and tell me what you saw.”

She nibbled her lower lip thoughtfully. For so long, she hadn’t spoken out loud about this kind of stuff. Actually … it occurred to her, John was the first person she would be able to talk to without fear of repercussion since she was left alone in Eagle Point. 

“It was— I think it was my Mom. I mean it must have been. I woke up ‘cause of the screaming. I grabbed my gun and ran in, and she was just there… burning. I panicked, I couldn’t shoot -- I didn’t know what to do…”

“So you ran.”

She shrugged. “The first thing that popped into my head. I just don’t know why she’s still here. Her spirit, I mean. Aunt Stacy told me there wasn’t even enough left to warrant a casket. I -- wait... What were you doing there? How did you know I needed help?”

“I didn’t. I followed you from the hospital, and kept an eye on the place. Heard you screaming and hauled ass to help.”

“You’ve been following me??”

“Just the past few days,” he clarified as if that would put her concerns to rest, “I’ve been trying to track you down for a couple months now. I managed to find out where you went to school, after asking around Eagle Point.” She didn’t bother to say that she had told Sam and Dean multiple times where she planned to go to school.

“You… went back to Eagle Point?” Wyn swallowed, trying to push down emotions from bubbling up. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I did. I…” John took a long sip of his coffee. Then looked her straight in the eye, “I’m sorry to hear about Stacy. She was a good woman.”

“Yeah, she was,” Wyn looked down blinking rapidly.

“And… I’m sorry, I... sorta ‘stumbled’ across a police report,” he cleared his throat, “about what happened. To you.” Her blue eyes went wide and fearful. Panic began to rise in her chest, and breathed tightly. “I know. About the miscarriage.”

Wyn’s jaw clenched, and lower lip wobbled. Tears made every effort to fall, but she’d be damned if she was going to cry in front of John Winchester. 

“I — I named him Tommy. Thomas Winchester.”

“After your Dad,” John smiled forlornly. She nodded.

“I buried his and Stacy’s ashes in the burial plot at the edge of the property. It’s where… my parents... just felt right to have him with family.” John nodded stoically at her words, letting her continue. “Does Sam know?” her voice barely a whisper. She didn’t trust herself not to break down to inquire more than that.

“No. He doesn’t. And he won’t hear it from me. That’s up to you.”

“...You won’t tell him?”

John shook his head, “I promise.” Tension released from her body, as she sighed in relief.

“He can’t know. Ever. He’d hate me more than he already does.” She knew without a doubt that if Sam were to know the truth it would completely destroy him.

“Bronwyn, darlin’. That’s not -- whatever happened, it’s not your fault, you know that right?” John was obviously uncomfortable and unfamiliar in the act of sharing feelings. Or just out of practice.

Quickly, she changed the subject, “So why are you following me? Just come to kick me while I’m down?”

“I’m here to help. Maybe we can help each other.”

“How?”

“First things first, tell me everything that happened starting with the night Sam took off. Whole story, warts and all.”

And she did. From the moment she and Sam agreed to run away, to being held captive, to losing her friends at school, and finally, what she learned from her father’s memory. She no longer needed to keep her secrets to herself. Now she had someone who knew what they were doing. For the first time in years, she spoke the full truth. Unloading the burden she had carried for so long, a burden she no longer had to carry alone.

.

.

.

Wyn stared up at her family home with trepidation still in her sleep clothes and John’s jacket. She was exhausted. Physically and mentally. John stood at her side which should have made her feel better, but all she could think of was the task at hand. With his expertise, they had created a fairly simple plan of action. 

“Are you sure it has to be me?”

“I think so Bronwyn,” his voice low, “If she’s a death echo like I think she is, only someone with a deep connection can wake her from her loop.”

“But she doesn’t even know me!”

“You’re her daughter. Trust me. There’s no one better than you.” 

It wasn’t like there was any better option at this point. Honestly, she had no idea if she could do this. John escorted her into the house, the upstairs hall light still on. The young woman shook with nervousness and fear. It was almost too soon when they reached the room that held the spectre earlier that night, and she froze the door still closed before her. She peered into John’s strong gaze. He nodded.

With great care Wyn extended her arm and her hand clutched the knob, and instantly felt the metal turn icy cold. Their breath fogged the air. 

“Bronwyn, it’s time.”

Determined, she opened the door. Then in the middle of the room she saw her mother. Wearing the same long sleeve plaid night  clothes from the only family Christmas photo they ever took. Her spirit hazy and glitchy. 

What are you doing in my house?!” Her mother’s spirit looked afraid, seeing something Wyn and John couldn’t before rushing forward, “ Don’t touch my baby--” then she was pinned against the wall. Her death replaying as it happened nearly twenty two years ago. Step by step, Wyn moved toward the center of the room, and peered up at the terrified look on her mother’s face above her. She saw a thick red line bloom up on spirits abdomen, and screams filled the air as the woman burst into flames.

“Mom! Momma it’s me, Bronwyn. I know you’re confused, but I need you to listen to me.” The figure flickered, then slowly the fire began to ebb. The screaming stopped. Wyn stepped closer, and her mother’s spirit softened still glowing bright.

“It’s okay Mom, I’m here.” The fire was gone, and in a blink of an eye, her mother’s spirit reappeared standing in front of her a look of lost confusion painting her expression.

“...Winny?”

“Keep talking its working,” John’s words of encouragement spurred her on. 

“Yes! Mom. It’s me!”

The ghostly figure now a perfect reflection of who she was in life. Wyn’s heart pounded and a sad smile stretched her face. Their eyes locked and she saw what Stacy meant every time she said how beautiful her mom was. Her mother reached out and Wyn felt the cool empty space as ghostly fingers touched her cheek. 

“My girl. My beautiful baby girl… there was… someone -- someone trying to hurt you…” She could see the memories try and surface. Her mom struggled to make sense, “did… did I stop it?”

“You saved me. Daddy got me out of the fire… You sacrificed yourself for me.” Her heart pounded. 

“I saved you... Thomas protected you.”

She couldn’t counter the words, just nodded. “It’s okay Mom, I’m safe. You don’t need to stay here suffering. You need to move on.”

“I can’t leave my little Winny alone…”

Tears poured down her face. The thought of having her mother, even in spirit… “I’ll be alright. I promise. I can take care of myself.” Wyn prayed she sounded more convincing than she felt. 

“I love you, so much baby girl.”

Tears fell from her eyes, despite fighting to hold them back, “I love you. And I miss you so damn much! But I’ll be okay.” 

Liddy Evans smiled brightly. A light emanating from the center of her trapped spirit. Her form faded into pure white light, and ascended gently above them. Once the light was gone, Wyn knew after all this time, her mother was finally at peace. Her body felt suddenly weak. John caught her before she hit the floor.

Wyn shook in silent shock. While John Winchester held her, offering his silent protection for as long as she required. They stayed like that for Wyn didn’t know how long. For the first time in many years, she allowed herself to be comforted by another. despite everything, she knew at that very moment she was safe. Eventually, the soft morning light permeated the room, signalling the end of that very long night.

With the breaking of the dawn Wyn sighed softly with the sudden, inexplicable knowledge that her parents were together at long last in Heaven.

“What do we now?” she asked. 

“Now,” John pulled back to look Wyn in the eyes, “we take care of you. Get dressed in some warmer clothes. I’ve got someone you need to meet.”

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.

.

It was less than an hours drive to their destination. Wyn had a pretty good idea why John had taken her to a psychic’s home, but she couldn’t begin to guess why they had barged in when clearly no one was home. There had been a very vague and coded phone call on the drive over between John and the individual she was intended to meet, but beyond that she was in the dark. He sat in silence waiting for this woman, and all she could do was wait too. 

Then the bell over the shop door rang, and the sound of a woman came from the hallway. 

“That boy, has such powerful abilities. How he couldn't sense his own father, I have no idea.”

Wyn looked surprised to John. The psychic turned the corner giving John Winchester a very un-amused look. 

“You really think Mary’s spirit saved the boys?” 

“I do,” the woman said through pursed lips. Wyn surveyed the psychic, with her tight curly, kinky hair, round face, and warm brown complexion.

“Sam was here? And -- he’s hunting again?” Wyn asked surprised and nervous.

“Yes,” the woman gazed at her with a knowing look. A look that Wyn figured she should get used to. The elder psychic returned her gaze to John to explain further. 

He sighed, “About the same time as the fire at your place in Washington, Sam…” he struggled. Not wanting to say the words. 

“Sam’s girlfriend was killed,” the psychic woman chimed in impatiently, “In a fire. Not unlike the fire that took your friends honey.” 

Wyn’s heart skipped at the news, trying hard not to let her emotions show. “Hello there by the way, Bronwyn... My name’s Missouri,” she took Wyn hand and the young woman was surprised when instead of seeing memories, she felt an invisible wall. 

“Woah, how did you… I didn’t see anything!”

“Comes from years of practice. Don’t worry, we'll cover that in our lessons.”

“Lessons?”

“So you’ll do it?” John asked, “You’ll help her get control of whatever this is?”

“Her abilities. Yes, she’s a gifted girl and I will gladly take her under my wing. And for goodness sake, will you call your children?! I won’t always play your little game. Next time Sam and Dean come through lookin for you, I’m inclined to tell them where you been.”

“Just -- help Bronwyn get her powers in check. Her headaches are almost gone, but still can’t control it when there’s skin to skin contact. You let me handle my boys my way, you hear me?”

 

Wyn stood by silently, as the two older adults discussed her fate. Processing the news. Sam’s girlfriend was dead. She wondered if it was the same girlfriend Sam had moved on so quickly with. It seemed like a lifetime ago that her heart was broken, not just a few years. 

Emphatic grief for Sam overcame her. What frustration and anger she may have held for him, she never wanted him to be in pain. But the fact that he was in pain, because he loved another woman… She shook herself. She couldn’t hold onto that anger that wasn’t deserved in Sam’s case. He had been completely alone in the world, believing that he was betrayed by his love. Of course, he would try to find love with another. More so she was crushed, because he had finally made it out. Sam was supposed to live a happy normal life with that normal girl who wasn't completely poison to everything she touched. 

John snapped for her attention, and Wyn blinked bringing herself back to the moment. From their conversation, it was decided Wyn would work with Missouri in her shop. The psychic would train Wyn to control her abilities, so she wouldn’t accidentally see into the mind of everyone she touched. She had to admit she was relieved. It seemed that there might be a light at the end of her twisted tunnel of pain. 

Missouri seemed nice enough, Wyn just hoped she didn’t curse this woman. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t stay…”

“What do you mean?” John asked, brow furrowed.

“Look, I appreciate you wanting to help,” she peered reservedly at the woman, “Honest I do, but people in my general proximity tend to get hurt. I can’t ask you to put yourself in danger like this.”

“You mean from the demon?”

Wyn and John exchanged glances. “How did you know about that?” he demanded.

“Well, I saw it when I touched her hand. She saw what her Daddy saw that night. Since you been such a tight-lipped fool about this whole mess.”

“... Yes. A demon with yellow eyes. I think it’s the same thing that took Mary.”

“Where are you goin next then?”

“Can’t tell ya. For your own safety.”

Wyn suddenly was filled with concern for the man. Why was he putting himself in such reckless danger? This thought mulled in her mind, and before realizing they were at the exit to the psychics shop, and Missouri was telling her to her over bright early, first thing in the morning. Wyn didn’t know exactly what time that meant, but she was choosing to take it as “whenever you wake up and won’t be grouchy.” Their host managed to fill their bellies twice before sending them off. Already feeling like she found a friend.

 

Near the end of the day, John drove Wyn back to her home. The ride back John was clear to convey the plan to her. That if her headaches continued or got worse, then to call him. And he then told her to open his glove compartment. He had made a copy of his address book. In case she needed anything. The Winchester made note of certain hunters in particular. Including a man, who he may not be on good terms with, by the name of Robert Singer. 

“He’s a good man. Looked after the boys a lot when they were younger. He was like family once. But he’s a good man to turn to. A fount of knowledge in history and lore.”

“I remember Sam mentioning their Uncle Bobby. Thank you, I,” she cleared her throat, “I appreciate your help. I’ve been alone in this whole mess for… well for a long time.”

The truck made the rocky journey up the gravel path to her front yard. It sat idly near the front porch, headlights just clicked into the dusky evening. John then turned and put on his strong marine face. 

“Alright, I left you some books that I want you to read. Gonna test you on it next time I see ya. I gotta make sure you know how to take care of yourself, and the best way to do that his by arming you with the full knowledge of what’s out there. I’ll touch base once in a while to make sure things are alright…”

“Are you— you’re not leaving now though are you?”

“Do you want me to stay?” He quirked a single brow up and smirked bemusedly. 

“I mean, well… it’s late and you haven’t slept in — when is the last time you slept?”

John out a good natured scoff, “Can’t really remember.”

“Well, I don’t have the guest room made up, but there’s the couch. And I’ve got plenty of blankets.”

John Winchester beheld the young woman before him with curiosity, and just a hint of tenderness, “Thanks Bronwyn. That’s really kind of ya.”

.

.

.

Sam felt unsettled. It was a feeling almost like he was forgetting something. Something left behind. But they had taken care of business in Lawrence. Jenny and her kids were fine. Well… as fine as they could be after having gone through what they did. Their old home stirred up alot. To make things even tougher to deal with, seeing his Mom sent his mind into the past. Mulling over past conversations with a particular auburn haired blue eyed girl. His eyes watched the mile markers pass by on the side of the road lost in thought. 

“Dude!”

“Huh?” Sam turned to Dean who was giving him an annoyed look. 

“I said we should give Caleb call and see if he’s heard from Dad at all. What’s up with you?”

“I dunno, just… got a lot on my mind.”

Dean sighed, “Yeah… but man we can’t let it get to us. I mean I’m as shook as you seeing Mom like that. But we still have a job to do. Find Dad and find the thing that destroyed our lives.”

“It just trudged up a lot…” Sam couldn’t tell Dean that he was thinking about Bronwyn. No. That was over and done with. No point in wringing his hands over someone who didn’t want anything to do with him. But… it seemed like his past was catching up with him. Who knows what lay further down the road. At least, and the end of the day, he had Dean. They could handle anything.

Chapter Text

The first thing Missouri had Wyn start working on was Tarot readings. She said it was essential to truly being able to read someone. With time, Missouri told her, she would gain the capability to see someone’s aura by letting her sight see into the next plane. Wyn delighted in learning something new and took to it quite well. 

After everything that had happened in Washington, and apparently what Sam went through in Palo Alto, Wyn wanted to know everything she could. From her time in college she had learned as much as she could about the supernatural. But the university library’s Occult inventory was slightly lacking. Having a direct resource like Missouri helped dramatically.

Between the books that John left her to study and almost daily lessons with her new psychic mentor, Wyn was starting to feel like she could actually have a fighting chance against the forces trying to manipulate her life. 

So far, they knew it was a demon that attacked their loved ones, but they still didn’t know why. At least… Wyn didn’t know. She had a feeling John had more information than he was letting on. He didn’t seem surprised when she shared the revelation of her father’s memories. So, he had to suspect it was a demon before reconnecting with her. 

“It’s interesting…” Missouri spoke, eyes focused on Wyn, her palms placed gently on either temple.

“What is?”
    “You and Sam,” Missouri lowered her hands, signalling the near end of their session, “You have so much in common. Both of your abilities developed at the same time it seems.”

“You mentioned that before… that he’s been seeing things too.”

“Mhm. From what I can tell his abilities are more pregonitive, but he’s able to feel certain energies. Yours are more empathic with a second sight for memories it seems.”

“Why?”

“Why what? Be specific honey,” she smiled playfully. There was a certain air about Missouri, she had a tendency to make anyone feel at ease. 

“Why me? Why us? Why did our abilities surface at the same time?”

“I couldn’t say for certain. But, I know how we can get a couple answers.” Her mentor pulled out a small leather drawstring bag, and opened it for Wyn to see. These are runes, they’re used in scrying to find answers to questions.”

“Any questions?”

“Not so much on questions of the future, but more questions of the now and why we are the way we are.”

Wyn furrowed her brow. She still didn’t fully understand. 

“Here, hold out your hands,” Wyn held out her hands cupped together, and Missouri dumped the rune stones into her possession. A subtle, yet unique, sensation spread through her extremities at the contact.

“Now, clear your mind. Then focus on the questions you want asked.” 

“Where do my powers come from?”

She threw the stones gently onto the cloth before her. Missouri narrowed her eyes in focus, “Hmm, no clear answer. Put them back in the bag and try asking the question again.” Wyn did so. 

“Odd. It’s the same.”

“What do they say?” 

“It’s a duality paradox. This here,” she gestured to one section on the table, “says they were always present, meaning from birth. But here,” she pointed to another area, “it implies an outside source.”

“What does that mean?” Something certainly felt strangely recognizable about the results. A tickle in the back of her mind, trying to surface and discern the true meaning. 

Missouri sighed, “Sometimes we can’t understand the runes meaning until much later. You have to learn to see the world around you in every perspective. You possess such a deep empathy for others' emotions, a side effect of your gift I imagine.”

“I don’t know if I’d call it a gift. Certainly hasn’t done me any good so far.” After all, where were her abilities when Aunt Stacy was possessed. If she had been able to do what she could now, perhaps… things would have ended differently. 

“That’s because it’s not time yet. You gotta hone your abilities before you find out why you have them.”

“But, John just said not to use them just ‘get them under control’?”

“Yes, I know what that stubborn mule of a Winchester said, and he doesn’t know a thing about psychic abilities. So, as far as I’m concerned - we’re doing things my way. And your powers? Use them, don’t use them. What you do with your powers when you have them under control is up to you honey. No one can control your destiny, but you.”

She considered the words. John seemed terrified of what was happening to her. Missouri treated her… well like normal. But Wyn wasn’t sure she was ready to accept this part of who she was.

“You said, that I was born with these powers, but I only started seeing things recently.”

“Like I said you’re more empathic. You’ve probably just been able to read people pretty well your whole life, you just never paid any attention since it wasn’t significant.”

Wyn thought back to Sam and Dean teaching her poker and Dean getting amusingly frustrated at her ability to tell when he was bluffing. Her brow drew together pondering. Every lesson seemed to bring new information for her to consider.

The rest of the lesson that day was spent with meditation. Which Wyn was much more accustomed to, from her brief training in Tai Chi. These sessions were meant to aid in Wyn’s ability to reach within herself and to employ her ability at will.

 

In the beginning, nothing happened. Wyn engaged in the exercise every time, without receiving noticeable benefit. She would finish their session, aided around the shop, and even began helping Missouri with clients.

It wasn’t until a rainy afternoon a number of weeks later that she sat down at the end of her lessons with Missouri across from her, when something sparked. Only a few minutes into the peaceful darkness behind her closed eyes, a surprising tingle started in her center, shooting a fine line to her forehead between her eyes. It was significantly different than past experiences.

Like falling into a warm bath, the young woman felt her arm reach out. And with gentle ease her fingers connected with her mentors temple. A blue light blinked in her vision and suddenly the darkness melted away to reveal a soft warm glow. 

 

A hospital room. 

A woman lay in a hospital bed. She looked exhausted, but she was smiling. Ebony curls framed her glowing face. A man, her husband, sat on the edge of the bed his large hands holding hers smiling proudly. 

Missouri crying tears of joy.

“Oh Tess, James, you both made such a beautiful baby girl! She’s the most perfect grandchild in all creation!” Missouri bounced her body gently holding a blanketed bundle in her arms. A gentle coo-ing, followed by a tiny hand reaching up to her grandmother. 

    “Hello there Patience, I can’t wait to spoil you rotten. And to teach you. I’ve got a good feelin’ about you little one.”

 

    The connection broke, and the surrounding room became clear once more. 

“I did it!” Overcome with the joyous love she felt from her vision, Wyn felt a laugh bubble up inside her.

Missouri was already on her feet, “How did that feel?”

“Good. Great! No pain at all — hey, are you… okay?”

The mentor smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes, “You’re gettin’ stronger,” Missouri cleared her throat, “We’ll have to see how far you can dig. Pulling up a memory that’s pushed deep down can be hard when the person isn’t thinking about it…” 

“Oh,” Wyn inhaled, realizing she must have seen something a little too private, “I-I’m sorry I didn’t—“

“No, no it’s fine. No harm done darling. I think we’re done for the day.” 

With that, the elder psychic went to the front door and switched the sign from closed to open. It was only another minute before Missouri’s smile was back to normal. At nine o’clock sharp the elder psychics regular appointment for Monday mornings alerted them with the tingling of the doorbell. The petite woman came bustling through, convinced once again her man had strayed.

It was business as usual. Except for the concerned gaze of the young pupil. And she couldn’t be certain if it was because of her experience or a result of hard work, but for the first time Wyn allowed her eyes to see beyond. The remainder of the day Wyn observed Missouri’s aura shimmering with a silvery black. 

It was sadness. Loss . A self-blaming grief so deep her very essence reflected it.

All at once, Wyn wished she hadn’t seen anything. 

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.

Sam leaned against the Impala. The night was brisk and quiet, with the exception of the commotion earlier. A small grin lifted the corner of his lips seeing his brother through the window of the house comforting his former flame and her mother. He had never seen Dean like this, especially over an old flame. On top of everything, they had to figure out how to stop a haunted killer truck. 

Originally, livid, Sam recalled using Dean’s own words against him over spilling the beans of the family secret. “We do what we do, and we shut up about it.” But he couldn’t deny the hint of happiness he saw in his big brother. 

Dean never let anyone in. Seeing him with Cassie, it was obvious he had it bad. Hell, she was the only partner he thought actually held her own against Dean's stubbornness. Of course, he couldn’t deny that he wanted this to work out for Dean, and it definitely wasn’t because it reminded him of his own heartbreak of a love running for the hills. And for the first person Dean fell in love with, to cut and run after he told the truth for the first time… well Sam could relate.

“How are they?” Sam asked, as Dean returned.

“Cassie’s taking care of her Mom. She’ll be out in a bit.” Sam didn’t hide his smirk. “Stop it.”

“What? I’m just happy to see you not so jaded.”

“Yeah well, I don’t know if that’s gonna last,” Dean sighed, taking his spot next to Sam and leaned back against the steel frame of his Baby. “This whole life still freaks her out, but at least she doesn’t think I’m nuts anymore.”

“Hell, if she’s ready to try, it’s worth it. At least one of us can be happy.” Sam saw Dean’s gaze turn to him softly. He could almost hear the words ready to spill out of Dean’s mouth. But the sound of Cassie approaching them from the house, icy grass crunching under her feet got both their attention.

Time to get back to work.

 

Hours later, Cassie and her mother were both in the rearview mirror as Sam pulled onto the interstate. The chapter seemed to have closed on Cassie and Dean, but at the very least, they both had been able to achieve closure. No hurtful actions, no words left unsaid. Besides, their next case was already waiting. Only time would tell if they would ever cross paths again.

By the time night fell, they had switched driving shifts with Dean, now, behind the wheel. He drove in silence. Still in deep thought about the first love he left behind. Sam didn’t mention it. When Dean was ready to talk he would. Prying before it was time would only result in sarcasm and snarky comments about how he didn’t need to talk about his feelings. No. Sam knew how to play his big brother like a fiddle at this point.

A deep yawn stretched out of Sam. Reservedly, he nestled against the inside of the car and allowed the steady rhythm of the highway to lull him into some much needed sleep. Into a dream, that later he would only remember vaguely. But a dream that meant more than it seemed.

.

.

.

They lay together on a bed in a windowless room, brick walls on opposite sides of the room and cinder block wall adjacent. Bookcases, a desk and other little touches that showed this was definitely a shared room. It had an art deco style of design for the lights, sink and other utilities. Unfamiliar, yet… Home. 

Wyn felt a hard naked body nestled behind her, pressed firmly against her own nude form. She felt her lover moving inside her. Slow, blissful passion emanating between them. She turned her head and reached her palm to gently brush his cheek. Lines around his eyes, years worn. He was different - older, but still perfectly Sam. 

Stunning hazel eyes locked with hers. Twin gasps and moans lingered in the air. Their breath shared, lips brushing against each other. Sam’s arm reached around to caress her slightly swollen belly. Pregnant. She was pregnant, again.

The knowledge wasn’t surprising, but reassuring. The strong hands of her love, her soulmate, providing assurance he would protect them both… just as she would protect him. 

Their movements that had been slow and easy, soon grew in intensity. At the moment of peak pleasure their lips joined. Absolute adoration shared between them both. It was just as they were coming down, when a tiny, persistent knock sounded on the door.

“Mommy! Daddy! Wake UP! Unca Dean says we hafta open pwesents!”

The two chuckled lightly in tandem. “Only your daughter would wake up this early everyday,” Wyn teased. Turning her body now to face him. Their hands intertwined, and she could see matching silver bands on their left ring fingers. 

“Well, Christmas is the only day Dean would willingly wake up before dawn,” Sam grinned, “I’m sure we have him in part to thank for this morning.”

“Helloooo??”

“In just a minute baby girl,” Sam’s voice called out. Tiny bare feet scurried away down the hall outside their door. They had maybe five minutes, before she returned. Sam chuckled again shaking his head slightly, then returned his gaze to Wyn’s lovin one aimed at him.

“What?” he inquired. “You’ve got a look.”

“I’m happy. I’m just… right now,” she took his hand and placed it once again on her stomach, “I’m so incredibly happy.”  

“Good,” he brushed the hair from her face, “You deserve happiness.” He pressed their lips together in a deep kiss. Mouths moving together, with perfect knowledge of the other’s affection. 

“I love you.”

.

.

.

Wyn jolted awake. Slowly her mind separated from the fantasy and settled back to the reality surrounding her. She looked around to see the familiar look of her new room. The farmhouse renovations had gone well. It was actually starting to look like a home. She rotated her head, and saw the digital clock on the bed stand read 7:15am

Rising from her comforting blankets, the young psychic stretched, and rolled her neck for good measure. Today she was expecting a visit. One she had been expecting for a while. John Winchester was finally returning to check on her progress.

When her feet touched to cool wood floor, she couldn’t help but think what she had just woken from. An odd feeling of prophetic hope filled her, as the images flashed before her mind once more.

    What a dream…

.

.

.

John smirked full of amusement as Wyn animatedly explained the changes she had made to her home, and the lore she dug into to protect from demonic and supernatural entities that may try to make their way onto the property. It had been a couple of months since he left her in Kansas, but he could tell that Wyn was well on her way to being as knowledgeable as his boys, though she would need more practical experience of course. Maybe he could help with that. 

To keep Wyn as safe as he could, John only contacted her briefly over payphones and occasionally by text on one of his many numbers. He didn’t have to worry about her wandering off, and he was able to stay under the boys radar. While he would give his boys instructions for a hunt, he was giving Wyn instructions for research. Research on the demon, and the thing that could take him out. When the hunter heard the rumors of such a weapon resurfacing, it sounded too good to be true.  

Of course, Wyn was confused as to exactly why John had her researching record of an old gun. Eventually, he was forced to let her in on a secret few were privy to. The Colt - He would send her the resources and names of specific books and records he needed. Then she would ship them to a hunter buddy of his, or they would come to her, and get the information to John. He was on the demons trail, so he couldn’t stay in one place long and couldn’t get a hold of the research himself. 

 

Currently, they were taking a break following target practice outside. Wyn definitely had a long way to go as far as shooting was concerned. Turns out, she was NOT a good shot.

“I hired a few different contractors to take care of the renovations. Paid all of them in cash, of course, like you said. Got the windows redone with consecrated iron. Devil’s Traps carved and painted into the underside of the floorboards at each doorway. Hallways are gonna be lined with Himalayan salt slabs next month, had to special order those. Hoodoo blessing bags in the North, South, West, and East corners of the house on all floors. And I had the well blessed by a priest, so holy water runs through all the pipes. Oh, plus,” she pointed to the corner in the upper left side of the living room, “security cameras, for things that get passed all that.”

John smiled at her with a crooked sort of grin. She beamed, hoping for praise of her hard efforts. “I’m impressed Bronwyn! Good job!”

“Thanks, Dad! Uh--” her cheeks burned crimson and her eyes went wide. John’s complexion rosied as well as he looked intently into his glass of whiskey. “I-Um, just mean, thank you! I’ve been doing a bunch of research, and I wanted to get your opinion and everything. Thought you could tell me what I could improve, ya know… Anyway, don’t think anything supernatural’s getting in here anytime soon.” 

“Well, like I said. You did a good job here. You’re shapin up to be a natural hunter!”

Wyn smiled, pride swelling in her chest. For so long, she had managed without any guidance. It felt good to have John’s counsel.

John looked down at the book in her lap and narrowed his eyes, looking at the journal she had been taking notes in. Then something must have occurred to him, “Did I give you this?”

“Oh,” Wyn blushed again, “yeah,” she closed the journal and ran her hand over the leather bound cover, “That Christmas after the big snowstorm remember?”

“I remember,” John’s smile was soft. Full of memories just behind his glassy eyes. Before he could stop himself, Wyn saw his eyes flicker to her necklace. A gift she had received that same Christmas morning from his youngest. But they didn’t talk about the time before…

“That reminds me, I picked ya up something on my last hunt,” the elder Winchester rose to his feet, heading towards his duffle. Then returned and held out a knife holster holding a silver blade. She took his gift in her hand, unsheathing the blade and read the latin inscription etched along the side, Fortis Filiae

“It, uh… means brave daughter or something like that.” His dismissal a defense technique, though she hoped it was chosen for a specific reason.

“Thank you, I love it!” She beamed in response to his thoughtfulness. It wasn’t something she was quite used to, and she could tell he wasn’t used to it either. 

“Any news on Meg?”

A regretful look crossed the hunters face that told Wyn all she needed to know. She nodded. 

“I’m sorry… I’ve put the word out. Got all my hunter contacts on the look out. If she’s alive, we’ll find her. I promise.” 

A sad smile surfaced. She knew it was a long shot. But she couldn’t help but hold out the slightest bit of hope. 

“Well, I should hit the road before long. Caleb said he had a lead I should follow.”

“Hey,” she too rose to her feet. He couldn’t leave yet. He just got here. “I cooked way too much pasta. I was gonna take leftovers to Missouri’s tomorrow. Would you wanna stay for dinner?” John held back a grin at her words. “And I’ve got the guest room set up, so you could stay the night. Get a fresh start in the morning.”

“You know I can’t say ‘no’ to a home cooked meal,” he grinned and removed his cap from his head, and ran his hand through his hair. The two entered the kitchen to share a rare meal together. For a short while the two could forget about the other troubles that waited just on the horizon.

.

.

.

Sam was exhausted. He hadn’t slept in almost two days. They had been working so hard to try and solve this last case. So many questions were rising. The thing that killed Jess and their Mom, they had always suspected it was pure random evil trying to spread chaos wherever it could. But with the recent discovery of people like him, and all he had in common with Max… what if the demon wanted them? 

“Man, we’re lucky we had dad,” Sam’s words made Dean halt, and scoff in mild amusement.

“Never thought I’d hear you say that,” Dean muttered stuffing his gun into his bag, and scanned the motel room once more for anything forgotten.

“Well, it could’ve been worse after Mom died. If Dad drank more instead of digging into the supernatural. We could’ve ended with Max’s childhood, or who knows what else.”

“Yeah…” Dean eyed his brother knowingly. Something obviously on his mind, “We could’ve been taken away from Dad, and locked him in the nuthouse.” Sam’s eyes widen at Deans words. He expected the next words out of Dean’s mouth to be the name he hadn’t heard in years. 

But he didn’t. Dean allowed the words to linger in the air, then continued packing and zipped up the weapons bag. 

“I suppose,” Sam exhaled.

“You know, there’s another major piece of this puzzle we’re not talking about. Been avoiding it for a while now…”

“Dean-”

“Sammy, we gotta talk about her.”

“No. Dean, I can’t I--- She doesn’t… No.” 

Dean sighed. He stared at his little brother with deliberating resolve. “Maybe you’re afraid? Afraid of seeing her again…”

“Dean, please.” The pleading, in perfect combination with the puppy eyes, did him in.

“Okay. Not gonna talk about the elephant in the room? Fine. But we are gonna talk about what’s goin’ on with your premonitions, while we’re on the road little brother.”

“Where we heading?” Sam tried to slow his heart rate back to normal.

“Vegas, Psychic boy!”

Sam blinked, tilted his head, then laughed softly, “You know that’s not exactly how it works,” he tapped the side of his head.

“We deserve a break anyway. Come on, it'll be fun.”

“Sure. Why not? We can make a thing of it. Annual Brother’s trip to Vegas!”

With the weapons bag, hung over his shoulder and his personal bags in either hand, Dean marched towards the door and went outside to the Impala. Sam had a feeling Dean was more freaked out than he let on, but that was in line with Dean’s MO. Making jokes and trying to make Sam feel at ease. But Dean had pretty much nailed it on the head. He was terrified of seeing Wyn again. 

What would she say to him? What would he say to her? What if the same thing that was happening to him, that happened to Max, happened to her? Sam could only hope and pray that when she ran away all those years ago, she ran so far that this nightmare couldn’t find her. 

.

.

.

“Well,” John said squinting and scratched the back of his head, “at least you aren’t a shit shot anymore.” They both examined the target with holes peppering most of page. “You’re just a crap shot now.” 

The sun was beginning to set 

“I’m much better with a shotgun.” She tucked her pistol in its holster. 

“A child would be better with a shotgun,” John teased.

“That’s it, no supper for you!”

“Oh come on now don’t be like that,” John followed her up the steps of the front porch.

“Ah-ah, wipe your feet!” 

 

On his most recent visit, John had brough along and introduced Wyn to pair of hunter friends. A somewhat young couple, whom had worked a case with John before. As it happened they were passing through in need of a place to lay their heads. 

Interestingly, it seemed the Evans home had become a bit of a safehouse for hunters. At first, they were either a friend of John’s or Missouri’s. Then, slowly but surely, a friend of a friend of a hunter she knew would show up, asking for a place to stay. Either trying to lay low after their latest hunt, or just needing a safe place to rest up, before heading out once more. 

Wyn never charged any of the hunters to stay there. The estate funds were being managed, and she wouldn’t need to think about money for several years. Most folks ended up either offering to help with repairs, restocking her kitchen, ammo, or other supernatural defense supplies. Most of this trip, John had been explaining the new resources he wanted Wyn to investigate. Once again, his requests had been as vague as possible. 

The couples’ voices carried from the living room where the two had been in deep discussion over Wyn’s modest library collection. John followed Wyn through the main entrance and into the dining room, with all his papers spread out, and journal open at the end of the table. She saw scribbled in the margin of a page, what looked like a book title. 

Regius Puerum et Reginae Pallidus: Prophetiae ?!” Wyn’s heart leapt, upon translating the title in her head. The Boy King and Pale Queen: Prophecy.

“It’s a book on demon prophecies,” John explained gathering his notes together to clear the table. “I hadn’t been able to trace any copies down. Seems like they were all destroyed. Some secret organization got their hands on the last copy, before they disappeared decades ago.”

“Does it have to do with the demon?”

John stopped, and turned to Wyn, evaluating, “It doesn’t matter. It’s lost. Been searching for it almost as long as The Colt.”

Wyn nodded, not commenting on the dodging of her question. 

The one thing Wyn never shared with John, when the demon possessing Stacy let slip the name “Pale Queen”. She couldn’t say for certain why this one piece of information she kept to herself. Considering, he was looking for a book of prophecy about that name, it filled her with dread. 

If you get secrets John Winchester, then I deserve to keep at least one, she thought. 

“Tamera, Isaac. Tell me you two are hungry!”



Chapter Text

End of May

 

It was a warm night, just weeks before her twenty-third birthday, when Wyn was awoken by urgent knocking on her front door, with multiple rings of the bell. A quick look at the security monitor next to the bed showed John bracing himself on the doorframe. He was hurt!

Injured hunters coming to her home in the middle of the night was nothing new to her by this point. It had already happened twice that month. But tonight, an odd feeling filled her. Something was different.

Tying her robe around her tightly, she raced down the stairs flipping on the light to the living room and entryway. She then opened the door to a shocking sight.

“Fuck - what happened?!”

John Winchester stood bleeding from the forehead and was nursing a deep wound in his chest. He stumbled forward. Thankfully, she was able to brace herself, and held as much of his weight up as she could. He shook his head groggily, trying to avoid placing all his mass upon the significantly shorter woman.

“Shit, let’s get you horizontal come on.”

Together, they shuffled into the living room. Wyn laid John out as gently as she could onto the sofa, and helped him remove his leather jacket and over shirt. Scissors found lying on the coffee table from cutting out news articles earlier that day, were required to remove his undershirt without causing significant pain. Then, taking inventory of his injuries, Wyn held back a cringe. It definitely wasn’t pretty. 

“You wanna explain what did this?”

John lay silently for a moment before explaining, “Deava. Shadow demons.” His head lolled to the side and he passed out. Body going slack into the comfortable fabric on the couch in a desperate need to rest. 

“Uh-huh.” Hadn’t seen the man in weeks, but seemed that was all she was going to get as far as an explanation. At least his breathing was strong and steady, she could allow him to rest for a bit. 

The young psychic touched the skin by his head wound gently to inspect the injury closer. Before she could stop it, the image of a road sign saying “Welcome to Chicago” flashed before her eyes.

Wyn yanked her hand away quickly. 

“The hell?”

Unsettled at her powers misbehaving all of a sudden, she shook herself before returning to the task at hand. With determined focus she made her way into the kitchen, and placed a pot on the stove to boil. Then pulled out the customized hunter first aid kit beneath the sink. 

Over the past few months, as a few folk would stumble through, seeking a safe place to hide or recover after a hunt, she educated herself more thoroughly on how to clean and care for deep wounds. Aunt Stacy had really only covered basic care when she was younger. It was either learn, or let someone bleed out on her hardwood.

After getting all the supplies she needed, Wyn settled next to the sleeping hunter and began to wipe away the dried blood over his bare skin. But even trying to keep her powers in check, she could feel John’s worry pulsing through him. Each time she touched his exposed skin, it took all that she had to not look into his mind, again.

By the time she tended his head wound, she had assessed he had been in Chicago when he, apparently, faced off against a shadow demon. Little flashes of the attack coming to her, despite trying to block them. 

Obviously, it really affected John. Otherwise the fear wouldn’t be so evident. 

Damnit John, did you drive straight here? Stupid man, should’ve gone to a hospital.

“Couldn’t... go to a hospital,” John muttered coming to. Wyn inhaled. She could have sworn she didn’t say that outloud. “Had to be sure… nothing following--”

“Shh, here,” Wyn picked up a glass she had prepared for him, the cool water dripping down the side in the warm night. “Drink. You’re definitely dehydrated. And your blood sugar is probably low,” She then layed out a sterilized needle and thread for the wound on his pectoral. The scratches were deep enough, she couldn’t leave them open. “You can have food after I’m done.”

John looked relieved at the prospect of food. 

“Can you sit up a little,” she asked softly. “This’ll go quicker if you’re at an angle. You’re too tall.” 

A little mirth crept into his tired eyes, as John raised his torso up enough for her to tuck an extra pillow and towel behind him. Then thankfully, he downed the glass of water in a few great swallows.

“Whisky,” his voice gravelly. 

“Iodine is much better for wounds,” She gestured to the bottle she was already applying to his skin. 

John shook his head, exhausted, “Not for that.” 

“Fine,” she rolled her eyes and stood suddenly, throwing down the supplies before storming over to the bar by the door. A small glass, an inch of amber liquid, and put the glass down not quite gently on the table in front of him. 

“There’s your Damn drink, now can I get back to work?”

John looked at her oddly for a moment, almost as if he wasn’t entirely focused on her, then he nodded. 

Wyn continued working, carefully stitching the deep cuts. But John didn’t flinch. Worry and guilt showed through his aura, and didn’t abate when she tapped a clean gauze over top to prevent infection. 

“We’ll need to replace the bandages every few hours and keep the skin moist with this salve,” she handed him a small jar along with a bag of supplies, “it’ll help it heal quicker.”

John mindlessly took the bag nodding briefly, then stared into the now empty glass of whisky. Eyes distant, his mind a million miles away. Leaving him to his thoughts for the moment, she retrieved the fixings for a decent sandwich. Then, reentered to see John’s expression unchanged.

“Eat,” she ordered placing the food in front of him. “And when you’re done - you and I are going to have a serious chat.” Her pointed look giving no room for argument. The hunter took the meager sustenance graciously, and ate in silence. After a few minutes, John had managed to finish the sandwich, as well as a second one she made for him, and finished another two glasses of water. 

Once Wyn was satisfied that he wouldn’t pass out again, and his body had what it needed to start healing, she approached him to take the dirty dishes to the kitchen. John smiled softly in thanks, holding the plate out. She reached out to take it, and their fingers brushed. 

Suddenly, she felt a strong vision hit her. 

 

Sam and Dean, pinned on opposite sides of the room, yelling in pain. Shadows slashing, tearing, hurting his boys. No, not the boys, John thought, as another slash of agonizing pain went across his chest

 

Wyn jumped back, gasping. The empathetic pain and fear she felt still danced in the forefront of her mind.

“Sam and Dean?!” She struggled for air, John’s expression showing it’s own surprise. “You’ve seen them? Are they okay?!”

“How did you know that?” John’s voice hard and angry.

“I--” she swallowed, and took a settling deep breath, “I saw it.”

“You saw it?” The hunters strength returning to him, “I thought you had that under control!”
“I did -- I mean I do, mostly. I haven’t had any trouble recently. Usually, I only see people’s memories if I try, but you’ve been thinking about Chicago so much since you walked in, it’s been hard not to see it, and I saw the Daeva attacking you and the guys…” She finished meekly. 

“Damnit, Bronwyn! You’re not supposed to use your powers - Period!” John groaned in frustration and stood, his hands running through his hair. Briefly, the movement reminded her of Sam.

“I’ve been really careful,” she spoke stepping closer trying to soothe the rising anger, “And I only use it to help people that come to the shop.”

“It doesn’t matter.” He angrily swiped up his flannel, before putting it on.

“Don’t you trust me? I’ve gotten strong and really good at it! Plus, I’ve been studying up on all the lore you’ve sent me. You even said I’m a natural hunter, this could help! Besides, you’re the one took me to Missouri to train me!” 

“To get your abilities under control, not to use them. It’s too dangerous!”

The hunter wouldn’t look her in the eye. He simply huffed and puffed out in scolding anger.

“What are you hiding from me?”

“Excuse me?” His gaze sharp. A challenging fatherly look, meant to put her in her place. But she wasn’t a little girl anymore.

“I’ve sat by and let you lie to me for months, because I believed you knew what you were doing. But you can’t barge into my life and tell me to stop, when all I’ve done is help people. There’s something you’re not telling me. What is it?”

“... I’ve told you all you need to know for now.” 

“Stop treating me like a child! I’m smart enough to protect myself. Obviously, you know that, since you’ve had me researching high and low for that stupid gun!” She stood as tall as her small stature would allow, refusing to cave to the Winchester before her. Every back and forth voices raised louder, with anger bubbling dangerously to a climax.

“That stupid gun happens to be the only thing that can kill the thing that took everything from us: Your Parents, Mary, Stacy, Your Son-”

“Don’t!” Her skin bristled at the words. They never talked about it, not since that first day John arrived at her door, “You have no right to talk about Tommy!”

“He’s Sam’s son - My grandson! I have just as much right—”

“You’re the reason Sam left in the first place!” She screamed out shaking, “If you didn’t try to control people’s lives by pretending you know what’s best for everyone, then Tommy might still be alive!”

John clenched his eyes, breathing sharply through his nostrils, and jaw tight, “You have no idea where those powers came from. You can’t keep going down this path.” 

Why is he so adamant about this?  

“Then tell me, what are you hiding from me? You do nothing, but lie to and manipulate everyone around you. You can’t tell me how to live my life and then keep me in the dark!” 

“You have to listen to me, I know what I’m talking about.”

“YOU’RE NOT MY FATHER!” She saw the wind leave his sails, “I’m a grown woman John, I can make my own decisions.” 

John’s expression hardened. He reached for the first thing to come to his mind that would cause the most pain, “Wow, you and Sam have the same temper. No wonder it didn’t work out!”

A loud smack echoed when her small hand struck his cheek. A sharp act, altering their relationship. Like a mirror fracturing into a thousand pieces. 

The man stared back stunned, and made no move to touch the red mark surfacing on his skin. Wyn was filled with instant regret. She was never one to last out physically, “I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that...” Her voice was low, her eyes downcast. Stepping back, she put distance between them again. Like a safety barrier, to prevent further pain. 

“Bronwyn, you gotta understand…”

“I want you out of my house,” her voice quiet, she looked up at the tall intense man before her, holding back angry tears, “Leave.” Letting it known this was not up for discussion.

The Winchester patriarch remained still momentarily, before grabbing his leather jacket he had discarded on the chair. Wincing from the stitches as he put it on, then grabbed the bag of supplies she had given him. He steadily walked to the front door, like a man condemned. When his hand turned the knob and pulled, he gazed in her direction, as if to say something. Then, without a fight, John Winchester disappeared into the night. 

Wyn stood silent. When the sound of his truck on the gravel driveway finally faded, she reached for the half empty whisky bottle and took a generous swig to try and drown the overwhelming emotion threatening to untangle her very existence.

Unaware this was the last time she would ever see John Winchester.

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.

Missouri opened her door to see a roughed up and ashamed looking John Winchester, hand still raised in a knock. 

“You really stepped in it this time John Winchester.”

The man didn’t say anything, just peered back at her with heavy eyes. Eyes filled with the weight of knowledge. Knowledge he kept secret to protect those he loved. Dean, Sam… and Wyn.

The psychic shook her head in exasperation, “Well, come on in then. But don’t think you’re getting away easy this time. It’s time you and me had a long conservation.”

John stepped over the threshold wearily, “Yeah, I suppose it is.” He eyed the sofa in her front room, knowing it would be a good while before he was able to close his eyes again. But it was time he shared what he knew. 

He needed help.

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.

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Mid July

 

It wasn’t long after the events in Chicago, that John met up with his sons once more. After months of searching, his old friend Daniel Elkins had The Colt all along. Revenge was so close he could almost taste it. They just needed to get it back from those damn vamps.

The dim cabin was scarcely supplied, but they had all they would need with them. Except for an item, he had sent Dean to retrieve.

John stared at Sam pacing back and forth. His little boy. 

Not so little anymore! He thought with a chuckle. His youngest was nervously awaiting Dean’s return from the funeral home with the dead man’s blood. He assured him, Dean was fine.

The Winchester patriarch just hoped that once they could get their hands on The Colt, then maybe… maybe his boys could have a normal life. Maybe they could rebuild the connections that he had severed. Find happiness after long last.

“Hey Sammy?” his spoke looking his son in the eyes tenderly. Sam stopped at the look in his father’s eyes. 

“Yeah?”

“Remember that Christmas I got back from that ghoul hunt? That big snowstorm in Oregon remember?”

Sam nodded. Of course he remembered. 

“That morning, seeing you and Dean so happy and… it meant so much to me. I think about it a lot.” The memories of the past few years had been weighing on him more heavily than it used to. “It was what your Mother wanted for you boys. She loved you both so much and she just wanted you to be happy.” John wiped away the wetness in his eyes at the memory of his lost love. “Believe or not, I didn’t want this life for you…”

“Then why did you get so angry when I left?”

“Because… I was afraid.”

“Afraid?” Sam looked surprised. 

“All I could think about when you left, was that you would be all alone. I wanted to protect you more than anything. If I didn’t keep you close then who would protect you? And because I did that… I lost the relationship I should’ve had with you boys.” 

His boys had grown up so much, he hadn’t even seen it. Regret was something John was quite familiar with at this point, and when lost opportunities were staring at him in the face… It made his mistakes glaringly obvious. “Sam I’m sorry. I never should have tried to control how you lived your life. I thought I was just protecting you, but… I never let you follow your own path. Maybe things would’ve been different with you and Dean. You might’ve finished school, gotten married...” Or had a son.

“I don’t know… after all we’ve been through. I’m not even sure that’s possible anymore. If I even deserve--” 

“Sam, none of this is your fault. Your Mom and Jessica - that was the Demon. An evil hell spawn that only wants to cause pain.”

“Well, turns out you were still right about everything,” his voice quiet, an almost defeated tone that broke John’s heart. “About doing the job, not letting people too close, keeping the people we care about safe… That night I ran away, Wyn left me. And that just—” he sucked in through clenched teeth. 

John didn’t say anything. Just let Sam speak his peace. “But she was the smart one. I mean,” Sam gave a disheartened shrug, “Look what happened to Jessica… as much as it hurt to see that, if it had been Wyn-“ Sam shook his head tearing his gaze away his father. Both ignoring the obvious tears in his eyes. 

The past crept forward in his mind and John contemplated, not for the first time, telling Sam about Bronwyn. About everything that went down in Oregon. The last thing he wanted for Sam to get blindsided if he started digging trying to find her, but he had made a promise. A promise that it was her place to tell Sam about their child. 

And John Winchester, if nothing else, was a man of his word.

.

.

End of July

 

Sam rushed forward when Meg slumped over. His second exorcism was a success, at least not a complete shit show like the one on an airplane. But now the real Meg was fighting for her life. Dean ordered Bobby to grab supplies, and call for help. They both unknotted the ropes restraining her, fingers moving quickly. 

“Th-thank- y-you.”

“Shh,” Sam tried to comfort the girl, “It’ll be alright. Okay, we’re gonna get you help.”

Once freed Dean lifted her up with Sam’s help, and they laid the poor girl down. He could only pray the position made her injuries more bearable. 

“Y-years,” the blonde weakly spoke, “it’s had me -- for --years…”

Sam stroked her hair soothing her once more, “Just take it easy okay?”

“It-...had complete co-control. The thi-ings I…” Her rattly inhale made Sam cringe, realizing her lungs were filling with blood. He looked into her eyes, overcome with deep empathy for this unfortunate soul. She moved her lips struggling, “I have to … tell--”

“Was it telling the truth?” Dean’s voice urgent. “Is our Dad alive?”

“Yes…” Meg nodded peering up at Dean, “but it’s a trap. They-- They want you to come for him. Th-they’ll be ready for you.” Suddenly, Bobby re-entered carrying most of his linen closet with him, trying to bring her any sort of comfort. He handed a glass of water to Dean, and he helped Meg take a gentle sip. While Sam balled up a blanket, placing it as carefully as he could under her head. Deep down, Sam knew it was too late. But maybe… if she could just hold on.

“Where’s the demon we’re looking for?” he asked. 

Weakly, the broken girl shook her head, “Don’t know. Not there. I’ve seen… It’s face is so awful,” her gaze a thousand yard stare.

“Where are they keeping our Dad?” 

“By the river...S-Sunrise Apart-ments…”

Meg’s breathing increased rapidly, struggling even more. Shaking she reached out for Sam. Without a thought, he took her hand clasping it between his own. “You need t-to -- know- B-Br…”

“What is it?” His heart froze. Mind racing he waited. His eyes searched her own, only to feel her go limp. He felt her grip release, now dead eyes staring into nothing. Sadly, he looked to his big brother searching for any explanation for Meg’s last words. What vital piece of information was she trying to tell him? 

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.

.

The Demon stood facing off with John Winchester in the dank basement. Both knew the two lacky demons standing by, were merely there on principal. Quite frankly, this meeting could have taken place mono a mono, but there was some special delight in seeing John squirm. 

John stared stone faced at the Yellow-Eyed Bastard gloating before him. The monster that took Mary from him, almost killed Dean, and hurt Sam and Bronwyn. Thought of Dean connected to tubes and machines in his hospital bed helped John keep his pride in check. 

Yellow Eyes smirked, stepping closer, “You know the truth? About Sammy?”

“Yeah. I’ve known for a while. And I know why...”

“I’m impressed. But I’m guessing you’ve kept that secret from your boys… and Winny too, huh? The daughter you never had?” The Demon stepped closer to him, invading his space. He could feel the creatures foul breath on his face, “Oh, Johnny boy,” It sniffed the air between them and chuckled darkly, “she softened up that angry little heart of yours, real nice didn’t she?” 

John kept his poker face, resisting the obvious bait for a reaction.

“I tell ya, I’ve got high hopes for those two crazy kids!” The Demon laughed wickedly, “After all the power those two have… my master is gonna love them.”

John clenched his jaw and let out an involuntary shudder, but pushed the image of the demon’s plans from his mind. Bronwyn was smart, resourceful, and strong. Much stronger than when he first met her. With Dean alive, he would be able to watch out for Sam, or if the worst should happen… He looked back into those evil yellow eyes.

“Can you cure Dean or not?” 

“Of course. I’ll need to -- shall we say ‘outsource’ the job, but won’t be a problem… But I need more from you than just the gun.”

.

.

.

Beginning of August

 

“Missouri! I’m back!” Wyn announced, entering the older psychic’s home. Hoisting up the bag of her recent acquisitions from her extended road trip, she made her way into the back room. 

“The trip was a big success! And New Orleans? Freakin’ awesome! I got all sorts of amulets, occult objects, hoodoo stuffs, and per your request: Beignet Mix and Dark-Roast Coffee Beans straight from Cafe..du...Monde…” She faltered upon seeing her mentors face. “What? What happened?”

Missouri stepped toward her, “John Winchester. Honey, he’s dead.”

The young woman stilled, her eyes falling shut. She breathed deep once, twice, and again. “H-how? When?”

Taking the bag from her, Missouri, then steered her gently toward the sofa in her office. “Bout a week ago. I had a vision, and I… I can’t be certain, but I’m pretty sure it was the Demon. The one you've been searching for.”

Wyn clenched her fists, and shook her head in anger. The thought of the only father figure she ever knew, losing the fight against the evil thing he’d been hunting for twenty-odd years. The demon that destroyed her family, and took everything from her. Her eyes drifted up, mouth open, hardly believing the tumultuous revelation. Her mind went to Sam and Dean. The mind-boggling pain they must be feeling. She swallowed the lump in her throat. 

“Oh God… poor Sam and Dean.”


That night, Wyn sat alone at a bar in the middle of nowhere, on the road back to her home. Kansas played on the jukebox. Only a couple regulars sat in their own corners of the bar. The young woman lifted her glass, the light gleaming through the amber liquid, “Here’s to you John.” Throwing the drink back, it burned on the way down her throat. Then, she threw some cash down on the dirty wood top, and left. Returning to her empty house alone.

Chapter Text

Dean was freaking out. That much Sam was sure of. He didn’t even need Ellen to tell him Dean had been calling all over asking for him. He had expected as much. All Sam needed was a bit more time. Ash had been working on the program to track down any of the children that fit the pattern of the nursery fires on the night of the kid’s six month birthday. 

The MIT drop out (“ I was kicked out for fighting!) plopped down on the bar stool next to Sam, holding a piece of paper between his fingers. Ash eyed the cold bottle of beer on the counter with longing. He spun around once on the stool, before sharing.

“Five folks fit the profile nationwide. Born in 83’, mother died in a nursery fire, the whole shebang.”

“Five? That’s it?” Sam’s shoulders fell in disappointment.

Ash gave him a look, “Just using the stats you gave me,” and took a long swig from the bottle before listing off, “Sam Winchester - Lawrence, Kansas. Present. Max Miller from Saginaw, Michigan. Deceased. Andrew Gallagher from Guthrie, Oklahoma. Doing just fine apparently. Scott Carey Lafayette, Indiana. Killed last month--”

“Killed? How?” 

“Stabbed. Cops don’t have any leads yet.”

“Thanks, Ash, this is great work. Gives me a good lead to start with.”

“Wait! One more, there’s a Bronwyn Evans. Traced her to some old farmland in Middle a’ Nowhere, Kansas.”

Sam’s heart nearly burst from his chest.

“... You- What?”

Ash gave Sam an unimpressed look, “Girl. Psychic. Kansas…”

Sam ripped the paper out of Ash's hand, much to the mullet-haired genius’ annoyance. 

His mind started to race. After all this time, the moment had come. 

Lover. Soulmate . Wyn...

Ever since he learned the link between the nursery fires, The Demon, and the psychic children, this was inevitable. He thought back to that night when she was pulled into the dark life of the supernatural, and she told him the secret she kept hidden from the world. 

But what the hell was she doing in Kansas? Back where their curse started… And what would she say when he came barging back into her life, bringing evil with him?

“Wait, I know that name,” Ellen spoke, sudden realization in her eyes, “Yeah, The Evans Homestead in Kansas. It’s a safehouse for hunters. Pretty new, but had a few hunters come through over the past year mention it. Folks are always sharing word of another safe haven.”

Wyn was the love of his life. He never admitted it outloud, and felt guilty even thinking it, but more so than Jess. There was a part of him that always knew their shared history meant he would see her again. They always said what they felt was like fate… maybe, it really was.

She won’t want to see me, but I’ve gotta make sure she’s safe .

“Sam, where’re you goin?” Ellen called out before he could leave. 

Sam blinked, considering his next step. Every fiber of his being was screaming to be reunited with Wyn. A fire burning white hot inside, that he had been holding off since they started the hunt for Yellow Eyes almost the full year before. But something bigger was going on. 

“Indiana… to start. I gotta find out what’s happening.” Then Sam bolted out the door. 

Ellen shook her head, picked up the phone, and dialed, “Dean. Yeah he was just here…Poor kid got all flustered ‘bout a girl named Bronwyn Evans that Ash tracked down. Friend of yours?”

“Son. Of. A Bitch!” 

.

.

.

The brothers took a little time to revel in the relief that Gordon Walker would be locked up for the foreseeable future. But it took a great deal of skill to slip away from the cops and make it back to where Dean left the Impala, without being arrested themselves. 

After a light scolding from Dean to never run off on him again, Sam mustered up his courage to say, “We have to go to Kansas. I think… I think it’s time we talk to Bronwyn,” Sam felt his heart flutter upon saying her name, “Ash’s research shows she’s the only one left that fits the pattern. And since all our other leads are gone, I think it might be our only option left.”

“Sammy, I gotta tell ya something,” Dean gripped the steering wheel tighter.

“What?” His brow furrowed in concern.

“Before, when Gordon had me tied up. He wouldn’t shut up about how he found out about you. And he said he knew about ‘the little sweetheart in Kansas’. I didn’t know what he meant, but now…I think you’re right. We gotta bite the bullet.” 

“Do you think Gordon sent someone after her?!” Sam exclaimed. 

Dean winced at the intensity, “Dude, chill! We don’t know what that psycho’s plans were.”

“Dean, she could be in trouble! Gordon had friends, other hunters might go after other psychics!”

“How do we even know she’s like you?” 

“All the children that fit the pattern, have shown psychic abilities! Oh God, what if,” Sam ran his hands through his hair, brain jumping to the worst case scenario, “What if Yellow Eyes has been watching her, too? Like with Andy’s brother Webber or this guy Scott Carey? They both said that ‘the man with the yellow eyes’ had been talking to them in their dreams.”

“I don’t know,” Dean certainly didn’t like the idea of Wyn going darkside, “I can’t tell you what I don’t know. But - What I do know is: We’re gonna find her. And we’re gonna get to the bottom of this I promise. Everything’s gonna be fine.”

“Just drive, Dean.”

It was a ‘Mad Max’ drive to Kansas. Knees bouncing, hands fidgeting the entire way, Sam couldn’t push down his anxiety, what almost felt like excitement. Dean repeatedly reassured his little brother. Eventually, he was able to soothe Sam with the sweet sound of The Beatles , luring Sam into some much needed sleep. 

After a few hours, Dean pulled off to a gas station, just on the other side of St. Louis. He loaded up on caffeine and was on the road again in minutes. 

 

Hundreds of miles later, in the late afternoon, they arrived at the address Ash had supplied. They could see the property was enormous. Small shrubs lined the front of the land adjacent to the road, up against the wrought iron fence surrounding what looked like most of the land. Upon closer inspection, Sam recognized that the shrubs, were actually Rowan saplings. He grinned impressed, knowing that plant was believed to repel evil spirits. 

A large farmhouse at the end of the long gravel driveway stood next to the East side of the fence, with a barn on the West side. They kept their distance, but they could see movement through the front window nook. Sam wanted to go to her, but Dean suggested they hang back. Wanting the element of surprise should any red flags pop up. 

They parked the Impala a little ways down the road, figuring their car would be easily recognized. When they discussed their options, Dean suggested they follow the East side of the property that would give them prime view of the house, inside and any visitors they may arrive.

From what Sam could deduce from observing the quiet house, Wyn looked safe. Happy. The brothers straightened, when they saw a car pull up driveway. A normal looking vehicle, giving no indication of something to worry about. However, Sam couldn’t stop the stabbing pain in his heart when a very handsome young man stepped out of the car. Then, it was like a kick to the jewels when Wyn answered the door smiling brightly, hugged the individual, and they went inside. 

“Breathe Sammy.” 

Sam let out a sound like a wounded animal, when the man left about an hour later. His imagination was running wild. Images of Wyn with someone else. Gathering surveillance from a distance was probably wise. 

A moment passed, then Sam spoke softly, “We gotta talk to her.”

“So - what, Sam? We just go up, knock, ‘Hey long time no see, say you haven’t been having conversations with a Demon have ya? Also, have you killed anyone with your mind lately?” Frantic incredulous tone, doing nothing to hide the annoyance with his little brother. “No, I say we lay low still. At least for now.” 

Dean looked to Sam who nodded, eyes never tearing away from the front door. “Let’s head back up the road a few miles back, regroup, and we’ll check the place out tonight. Up close and personal. Okay? She looks safe, and don’t think she’ll be going anywhere anytime soon.” 

.

.

.

Wyn sat upright in her bed, the late autumn air chilling her skin. Something wasn’t right. The digital clock on the bedside table read 2:00am, then she looked to the security monitor next to it. 

It was blank. Someone had cut power to the security system. This wasn’t just some dumb teenager sneaking into the old haunted farmhouse on a dare. 

With great care, she moved out of the comfort of her warm bed, and shivered feeling the cold hardwood beneath her bare feet. All she wore, a simple pair of wide leg yoga pants and her lucky AC/DC tee from Aunt Stacy. But she didn’t have time for anything more substantial. 

She pulled her sawed off shotgun from beneath her bed, and tiptoed down the hall. At the top of the stairs, she saw a tall male figure silhouetted in darkness, creep across the entryway from the kitchen into the living room. Her stomach dropped.

Crap.

Of course, the intruder would be gigantically tall. She would just have to use his height against him. Slowly, she began moving down the steps. Thankfully, Wyn had learned exactly where to step to avoid any sound, and which steps squeaked no matter what. 

At the bottom, she turned to her left to check in the kitchen for anyone else. Then crept up behind the intruder. With the cocking of her shotgun, the intruder froze. As he slowly raised his hands up, she placed the gun up against his lower back.

“You got ten seconds. What the hell are you doing in my house?”

The individual quickly swung around, grabbed the barrel of the gun knocking it to the floor. On instinct, Wyn quickly elbowed the man in gut. He bent in half on a ‘Oof’, holding his side, and Wyn then took him out by sweep kicking his knees. The tall man fell over. 

Seemed that fight training she did was paying off. But in the dark, she hadn’t noticed a second man. When she felt a powerful pair of arms come from behind and wrap around her. Lifting her away from his partner in crime, she cried out. Arms pinned to her sides, Wyn struggled madly against the grip. 

“Damnit, stop wiggling!” The man that held her grunted out. Then, with all her strength she flung her head back colliding with his forehead and brought her heel up in between his legs. A weak whimper followed, and she was almost instantly released. 

“You idiots broke into the wrong damn house!”

Moving fast she elbowed the second man hard in the solar plexus, and dove across the floor grabbing her gun. The first man had risen to his hands and knees, but Wyn took the butt of the gun knocking him on the side of the head.

Once again on his back, she rolled to straddle the figure with her gun pointed directly at his face. The man groaned in pain, holding the soon-to-be bump on his head. 

And then, their eyes met, and Wyn’s heart skipped.
“Sam?!” 

Sam lay on the floor, breathing heavy from the fight.

“Wyn…” they were both shaking. He swallowed, “Long time no see.” Coupled with a small shrug and hesitant side smile. Wyn was glad she wasn’t standing, it made her knees weak.

God, I missed those dimples.

“Sup Winny?” 

She turned to Dean bracing himself against the doorframe to the living room with one hand. The other hand shielding his groin from further assault. Surprise couldn’t adequately describe how Wyn felt as her gaze shifted between the brothers. 

“Uh, Wyn?” Sam’s voice unsure, “Do you mind pointing that somewhere else?”

“OH!” Wyn realized she was still straddling Sam’s waist, shotgun still aimed and at the ready, and blushed crimson. Scrambling off, she removed the ammo and put the safety on, before placing it on the bookshelf closest to her. 

Still in stunned disbelief, Wyn turned back to see the brothers staring at her. 

“Wh-what are you guys doing here?”

Sam’s face fell slightly, but he quickly masked it, “It’s kind of a long story.”

 

Sam and Dean sat on the sofa in front of the window nook, while Wyn hurried around at a dizzying pace. Supplying the both of them with painkillers and ice packs, as well as full glasses of water. After apologizing, mortified for hurting them. They both dismissed her concerns. After all they were the ones who broke in, plus they’d both endured worse. 

Then, Wyn took her seat in the lounge chair next to them, the three of them facing the coffee table. She had been avoiding their gaze, while getting them what they needed. But when she looked up and her eyes locked with Sam’s once more, it took her breath away. An overwhelming coalescence of feelings, it almost made her weep. In unison, they tore their eyes away.

Dean shook his head, and broke the awkward silence, by beginning to explain what they had been up to for the past year. Looking for their Dad, getting the Colt, losing the Colt… and their Dad, their hunt for the Yellow-Eyed Demon, as well as the other psychic children they believed to be linked. 

That’s when Sam meekly took over, eyes struggling to maintain contact, “That’s sorta what led us here. We found out where you lived, and with that guy getting killed and me attacked, we wanted to… make sure you were okay.”

“And… you figured the best way to do that was to break into my house in the middle of the night?” She didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but surely there was a better way to get her attention, “I figured you would come to my door at some point, but most people knock!”

Sam crestfallen, peered down to his hands clasped together, elbows resting on his knees. 

“We wanted to make sure you weren’t being watched,” Dean interjected, then softened, “And that you weren’t dangerous.”

Wyn blinked in surprise, dejected pain in her heart at the sting. But she supposed, she couldn’t blame them hearing what they had gone through.

“Because… of my abilities. To make sure I wasn’t hurting anyone.”

“Exactly. So, we’ve filled you in on our story. We’d love to hear yours. Starting with who was the guy that was here earlier?” 

Wyn was taken aback, and Sam shot a nasty glare in Dean’s direction. Dean ignored it.

“He-He,” Wyn shook her head refocusing, “he’s a client.”

“Client... Like a client ?”

She blushed deep at the insinuation, and Sam smacked Dean on the arm. Wyn hid a grin. 

“Dude!” Dean gave his brother a “what did I do” look, rolled eyes and adjusted his leather jacket with a huff.

“No, I’ve been working with Missouri Mosely in her shop, doing psychic readings. But I recently started doing private sessions at home, too. I’ve been helping him with memory therapy for a couple weeks.”

Memory therapy ?” Sam asked, his interest piqued, and not at all relieved that there wasn’t anything more going on between her and the handsome stranger.

“Yeah,” she smiled lightly, “I use my abilities to help him recover some lost memories. He was in a car accident two years ago. He couldn’t remember anything before age twenty. Doctors said he wouldn’t ever recover them, because of the brain damage. I’ve been helping reconnect the synapses to rebuild them.”

“So you got that freaky psychic mojo, too, huh?” Dean asked keenly.

“That’s putting it indelicately,” she let out a disheartened laugh.

“What am I thinking right now?” 

“That’s not,” Wyn rolled her eyes, “I’m not a clairvoyant like Missouri. I can’t ‘read’ your thoughts. I’m an Empath Psychic.”

“Empath Psychic?”

“Yeah. I can read auras or see people's memories, and feel what they feel. But that’s only through touch. I can’t hear your thoughts right now, and I can’t see the future.”

“Sam can.” 

“No, I…” Sam sighed in matching exasperation to Wyn’s earlier reaction, “I can’t hear thoughts, but I get these weird feelings and visions sometimes… usually of people about to die.”

She felt sudden sadness fill her, seeing Sam’s face describe what he saw. Her gaze conveying comfort and softness. 

“I know, Missouri told me.”

Dean looked between the two, and coughed, “So, how long you been working with her?”

“About a year. You’re, uh… You’re Dad took me to her actually.”

The twin looks of shock and confusion on their faces, told Wyn that John hadn’t shared with the boys their interactions… or what had happened to her.

“Another long story,” Wyn rose to her feet and turned to the bar in the corner, “Which I will need alcohol for.” 

While she poured some Jameson into three glasses, a good bit more for hers, Dean and Sam exchanged curious looks. Sam couldn’t read minds, but he knew Deans expression of acquiescence was saying, he was intrigued.

Wyn returned, and placed two of the glasses in front of them. “Not too much, cause of the pills.” Sam smiled with a warm feeling at her concern.

“When I left for college,” She began and instantly saw Sam’s form tense, “I didn’t really socialize a lot, but I had a few close friends. Right before I was about to graduate early, there was a fire in our house. It started in my bedroom.” Her throat tightened at the memory, and she could see Sam struggling. Hearing a mirror of what he went through at Stanford. “My friends Terrance and Tiffany died. Our roommate Meg went missing. I just heard that she was found dead a few months ago.”

The brothers gave odd looks, but she decided to leave it alone for now. 

“That fire was about a year ago. Same time as my abilities started. The headaches sucked.” Sam let out a genuine chuckle. “But, that’s when I moved back here. And… because my Dad was dying.”

Knowing she wouldn’t be able to finish if she could see their looks of pity, she lowered her gaze, fiddling with her glass. “When I was with him at the hospital, he was… pretty much gone. I was sitting with him, when he-” she took a long sip from her whisky, before continuing, “but before he w-went, he took my hand. It was like he was lucid for the first time ever, and that’s when I saw a vision. A vision of my Mom’s death, my Dad running in too late to save her… and the weird part was, my Dad knew It. He knew the Yellow-Eyed Demon. I don’t know what it means, but when the vision stopped, that’s when... he was gone,” It was still so hard to say the words of all that she had lost. Few would be able to remain upright after going through the trauma she had.

“That’s when John found me. He kinda help me reorient my life. I started helping him with research on the Demon, and he would come by once in a while, and help train me. Good thing I can handle myself in hand-to-hand pretty,” the guys let out a sound of agreement, “cause apparently, I’m not a good shot.”

“Guess, that makes me pretty lucky,” Sam smiled jokingly.

“Well, anyone can be lethal at point blank range with a shotgun. Don’t need to be a good shot for that.” 

Sam’s face quirked to the side, and Dean snorted, trying to suppress a laugh. 

“Anyway, over the past year, I started helping hunters that had worked cases with John or just some he encountered in passing. Eventually, this place started to get pretty popular for people to rest up between hunts.”

“Our friend, Ellen,” Sam interjected, “She told us. The Evans Homestead.

“Huh, is that what they’re calling it?” Wyn considered, then shrugged deciding it fit. “I also started working with Missouri, but more than that, she became my mentor. That’s why I’ve gotten so good at psychic readings. And then you guys broke into my house, and now here we are.” 

Wyn finished with a small smile, looking at the Winchesters. Startled by a sudden deja vu at the picture before her. Hiding her face once more, she stood and tied her hair in a messy bun on the top of her head to distract herself. And then noticed how cold she was. She shivered, then kneeled down to place another log on the fire.

“That’s new.”

“Huh?” she rose up.

Dean pointed, “The piercings.”

“Oh,” she reached back touching the back of her neck, fingering the four dermal piercings, “Yeah. Got ‘em when I was touring the East Coast. Ended up in New Orleans, and a hoodoo priestess could tell my abilities were growing. So, she helped me pick out some crystals that would help.”

“Crystals? Hah, never took you for a hippie,” Dean teased. 

Wyn saw the playful look on his face, but could also see his aura was tense. A cloudy blue telling her he still felt mistrust, but the bright gold underlay told her he was being open and honest. He was trying to keep the levity in the room, despite the obvious elephant threatening to stomp them to death. 

Sam’s aura was a hazy gray and deep purple. Gloom, sadness and mystery. 

“Ha-ha,” Wyn flipped the older Winchester the bird, “It helped.”

“What do they mean?” Sam asked. She turned to look at him. 

There was a still discomfort in the air, Sam and Wyn having their own private moment, before Dean coughed once again shaking them back into reality, “Um, the uh--” she tore her eyes away from the hazel eyes exuding a pained forlorn vibe, “the black one, Obsidian, is for protection from anger, anxiety, and fear. The longer I trained with Missouri, the more empathic I got. The emotions I would feel from touching people or seeing their memories was kind of overwhelming.”

“So you can feel their feelings, while you’re strollin’ down their memory lane?” Dean clarified.

“Yeah. But I can shake it after a few seconds usually. The blue one is Lapis Lazuli. For focus. It’s great if someone is trying to push down a memory they don’t want me to see. Iolite, the purple one’s my favorite. It inspires calm and peace. And Crystal Quartz is known for strengthening psychic abilities.” The brother’s eyebrows rose in tandem. “Since I got it, my abilities significantly improved. I found out, on top of experiencing people’s memories, but I could alter or remove them. It’s exhausting, though. I’ve only done that twice before. Takes some time to recover fully.”

“Holy fuck, you can wipe someone's brain? Why would you do that?”

“I don’t-it’s not like I wipe their minds completely,” she rushed urgently to explain, “The first time it was someone who had been going to therapy, but she couldn’t get over a traumatic incident from her childhood. Her entire life, and she couldn’t let it go. I… helped her move on. I took out the specifics of the memory,” Wyn shuddered at the dark image that flashed in her mind, “She remembers that something happened, but now she doesn’t have nightmares.”

“Huh…” Dean made a face like he was considering her story. Obviously, the psychic thing freaked him out. Maybe he was trying to find a reason to not be freaked. 

“Okay I gotta ask, what was the second time?”

Sam looked to Dean, then back to Wyn. She took a deep breath, “It’s weird. Some rogue hunter came to Missouri’s place. Had real problem with psychics. Luckily, Missouri had a vision the day before. Apparently, I’m on someone’s hit list. This guy found me. 

“He and his buddy got some info from a demon they were exorcising. About me. About us I guess,” her eyes flicked to Sam, then quickly bad to Dean, “He wanted to kill me. I didn’t know there were others they were after. I just removed my face and name from his memory, and gave him the memory that he had some very important business in Saskatchewan. He won’t be back anytime soon.”

Dean and Sam wore similar unhappy knowing faces, then the older asked “When was this?” 

“End of last week. I’m barely back to full strength.”

“What was the guy’s name?”

“Michael, or Mason… something like that. I think his partner’s name was Gordon. I’ve been waiting, figured he’d be coming to finish the job. Honestly, I thought that’s who had broken in...”

“Son of a Bitch!” Dean bit out, “I was right, I can’t believe that bastard.”

“Friend of yours?” she inquired confused.

“Not exactly. At least you don’t have to worry about him anymore. Sammy got the poor sap arrested.”

Wyn not knowing how to respond, looked to Sam again, then shrugged sheepishly, “Well that’s good, I guess.”

“It’s actually the other reason we came here,” Dean added, “wanted to keep an eye out for you.”

“Oh… so,” she looked between the brothers feeling slightly disappointed, “You only came because you thought someone was going to kill me, or that I might...?” She looked down in shame.

“I - we,” Sam swallowed nervously, “Didn’t want to bother you.” 

“Right,” she exhaled, nodding her head, but not sure why. 

“Oh! Before I forget, here,” She went to the bookcase pulled a thick manila folder from the locked box on the shelf, returned and handed it to Dean. “It’s all the research I put together for your Dad. Demonic patterns, history, powers. Including all the people he knew had contact with the yellow-eyed demon in the past 30 years. Everything. From before we were born, to last year in Salvation, Iowa. I kept researching… even after we had a falling out.”

"Sounds like him."

“Any idea why the Demon did all this?” Dean asked starting to flip through the pages. 

Wyn shook her head, “No idea. I have a feeling your Dad knew, but he wasn’t exactly loose-lipped about it. I told him all about my vision of Dad’s memory, but it wasn’t super clear.”

“Anything else we can use?”

“I know John talked to a professor in St. Louis, she was an expert in Zoroastrianism. Professor… Lily Matthison, I think?” 

Sam reached over to John’s journal on the coffee table, and flipped through the pages. “Got a phone number and address.”

“Let’s go!” Dean went to stand, but Wyn stopped him.

“Dean! It’s dawn!” She pointed out the window, “You guys have been up all past how many nights? You need to rest.”

“There’s a motel, we passed a ways back,” Sam suggested reservedly.

Wyn thought. Is this really a good idea? Before standing herself, “You guys will stay here.” 

They both looked surprised. Obviously, not expecting an invitation to stay after breaking in and getting their asses kicked.  

“Really, it’s not a problem, we don’t want to put you out at all.”

“Sam. It’s fine. Plus the Professor’s office hours won’t be until Monday. I don’t have any clients for the next few days, cause of the holiday, so you guys are welcome to stay.”

Sam blinked. “Holiday?”

“Yeah, it’s Thanksgiving this week,” she looked between the two of them, “seriously, you guys need a break. You can even have your own rooms, if you like.”

Dean took a moment, and thought, "How's your water pressure?"