Chapter Text
Sam reaches Lawrence just a little past noon, he drives directly to Missouri's home. The psychic is already waiting for him outside when he parks. He gets out of the car and tries not to squirm as she looks him up and down.
Missouri looks up at his face and her face softens so much it makes Sam nauseous.
"Oh honey," she comes forward and cradles his face between her hands. "I'm so sorry, Sam."
She pulls him down to envelop him in a hug. He has to swallow back tears as he brings his arms around her. If she was a little taller he'd be hiding his face into her shoulder, instead she keeps him there for what feels like hours. He sniffles once and composes himself before she finally lets go.
She smiles sadly up at him and puts a hand on his back.
"Come on, let's go inside and you can tell me all about it."
She guides him inside and sits him on the couch.
"You make yourself comfortable here, boy. I'll put on some tea, and we can chat."
Sam sits back on the couch and sighs. He wishes Missouri could see everything that happened, it'd be easier if he didn't talk about it. He sits there thinking about how he's going to ask her to help him with his powers. He barely even registers when she comes back with two steaming mugs.
She places one in front of him and sits across the table. She's still smiling softly, it makes Sam feel a little better. If the psychic had stopped he'd start freaking.
"Alright, son. I'm sorry I'm making you talk about this, but you have to. Usually I'd have no problem seeing what you've seen, but this time…it seems I can't. The moment you entered Broward County, it's like something blocked me."
Missouri takes a sip of her tea and seems to think for a second. Good because he's confused.
"Consider it like, entering a room, and you can feel that something is in there but the lights are off, so you can't see. I can sense the energy of your memory…your grief too. I just can't quite make out what happened."
Sam sighs again, he really didn't feel like explaining Tuesday to her. He smiles weakly up at her and picks up his mug. He needs something in his hands.
"It's fine Missouri, I already told Bobby anyways."
He takes a breath and tells her the story from the beginning. He tells her that he and Dean had arrived late at night and booked a motel room. Tells her about going to the diner the next morning.
He tells her about investigating the mystery spot that night. Tells her about Dean getting shot. He tells her about Sam cradling his brother in his arms and feeling his pulse fade. If he has to pause every few seconds, that's nobodies business but his. Then he tells her about waking up the next day, but also the same day.
"So you came back to the same day? And Dean was alive?"
He tells her about him going through the same motions he did the day before, going to the diner. He tells her about deciding to investigate during the day. Then he tells her about Dean getting run over and dying again.
"Oh Sam, that must have been horrible."
She does look like she feels bad, she doesn't know the half of it. Dean won't remember but he sure will. He takes another sip of his tea and continues.
"I wake up that same morning, again."
Her eyebrows shoot up, maybe time loops aren't that common. He huffs a laugh when he realizes people wouldn't know about it anyway.
"I convince Dean to go during the day and when we come back out, he gets crushed by some desk falling on him. I wake up, he chokes on sausage. I wake up, he slips in the shower. I wake up, tacos kill him. I wake up, he gets electrified. I wake up, I forget all the rules of hatchet safety."
He doesn't think he's ever going to get that image out of his head. By the look on Missouri's face, he's projecting and she isn't going to forget it either.
"I wake up and the waitress shoots Dean with an arrow. I wake up and Dean falls off a staircase. I wake up and a dog mauls him. I wake up and he trips and breaks his neck. I wake up and a spider kills him. Which doesn't even make sense! The spiders in Florida aren't deadly!"
He throws his hands up in exasperation. Loki got a little too creative killing Dean, the fucker is lucky he's helping Sam. If it wasn't Lilith, Sam would be going after him instead.
Missouri places her mug down and extends her arms, she takes Sam's hand into hers and squeezes.
"You calm yourself down son, you don't help nobody by working yourself up."
Sam looks away, he knows she's right, but it's Dean.
"I wake up again, except this time I didn't wake up in the motel."
He makes eye contact with her and tells her about the Trickster appearing and offering him a deal. He hasn't told her what the deal is before she's staring at him with wide eyes.
"And you accepted? Boy are you out of your god damn mind?! Tricksters are nasty, they usually don't do deals because they don't need it. And if they do, they will find a way to double cross you."
Sam swallows and nods, he knows, of course he knows. They're tricksters for god's sake.
"I know, Bobby said the same thing." He closes his eyes and shakes his head. " I didn't have a choice anyway, it was this or more Tuesday's. I don't know how long I could've done that for."
Missouri bites her lip and thinks for a second before nodding to herself.
"Okay, you're a smart boy Sam, if you think it was better, you made your choice. What was the deal?"
And so he tells her that the Trickster will keep Dean safe for a year, in a coma where nothing can touch him. He tells her about learning that Lilith holds Dean's deal, and about the apocalypse.
"I still need to investigate, but if he's right, I can save Dean by killing her too."
Missouri squints and tilts her head.
"I might not be able to tell what, but don't think I don't know you're hiding something. What is it?"
Sam finishes his tea and twirls the mug in his hand. He doesn't know what she'll think of him asking for help. His powers are demonic, and they're useful but it can't be pleasant to a natural-born one.
"Loki may have mentioned-" Missouri chokes on her tea at the name. Sam startles and goes around the table with a napkin and helps her stop coughing.
"Loki?!" She's looking at Sam strangely, like she's seeing him in a new light. "That's what I feel on you. You reek of old magic, I just couldn't place it. Sam, what did he give you?"
Sam hesitates, what does it even mean that he smells like old magic? Is it a bad thing? He hadn't even mentioned it to Bobby, something telling him not to. It had been instinct, to hide it, an unconscious decision that he was realizing only now. Was that part of the magic or just him?
Still now something was screaming at him not to show Missouri, but if anybody was going to tell him what it was it was her. He kisses his teeth, and still kneeling next to her, pulls up the sleeve of his flannel.
Missouri gasps and clutches his wrist, he resists the instincts to yank his arm out of her hold. By the glare she throws his way, she knows what he wants to do.
She loosens her grip and focuses her attention back to the pattern on his wrist. It's beautiful, he thinks.
She turns his arm a couple times before letting go. She leans back in her seat and hums in thought. He pulls his sleeve down and immediately feels better. Weird.
"Is it bad?", he asks. He doesn't think it is, it doesn't feel like it.
Missouri sighs.
"Hmm, I don't think it's evil, it just seems like it's extremely rooted in you. I can't tell you if it's a bad thing, but it doesn't want to hurt you." She extends her hand towards his forehead. "Can I try something?"
Sam leans forward in permission. She places her palm on his head and closes her eyes. He feels something in his chest flutter, and he fights the urge to sink in relief.
Did Missouri do something to make him feel safe? He feels a little less tense than he did seconds ago.
"Oh."
Sam opens his eyes, which he hadn't realized he closed. Missouri is staring at him with a look that's both soft, confused and contemplative.
"What?" He asks.
The corners of her mouth tick upwards almost unnoticeably, she shakes her head.
"Next time you see that Trickster you ask him more questions about it. I can tell you this, it's protection Sam. A lot of things are not going to want to touch you."
Well, at least Loki had told the truth about the mark. He slips his fingers under his sleeve and thumbs at the pattern. There was clearly a piece of the puzzle he was missing, he didn't care much. He had felt that it was safe and now he knew it was.
"Never mind that," he looks back up at the psychic. "I interrupted you, you were telling me about something he mentioned."
Sam has to rethink for a moment before he remembers. Right, his powers. He swallows past the anxiety and avoids her gaze.
Maybe he shouldn't even be here. He could be out there looking for The Colt instead of in here wasting time on something he didn't want to use again.
"Loki mentioned that I should try to… well." He hesitates again, he hasn't had a vision since before he…since before Cold Oak.
"Boy if you don't spill right now, so help me. I'm not going to lock you up."
He looks up at her, she's being sincere. He has no clue why he's so nervous about this, she knows he wasn't normal.
Maybe part of him had been relieved the past few months. He hadn't had to deal with being some freak with visions. He had fought hard to keep everything locked away in a corner of his mind.
He didn't need the reminder that he's the one who got Dean in his current predicament.
"He mentioned I should re-awaken my powers. They haven't shown their face since Azazel died, I thought they were gone but apparently not. He said I should kill Lilith with them."
Missouri frowns.
"How did this happen, Sam? Your powers should still be there. Was it what happened with the other kids?"
Sam winces and chews on his lip nervously.
"I'm not sure what caused it. I thought they were gone. And they have been. I thought that was it, but the Trickster said they were still here."
Sam wrings his hands as he thinks on how to say the rest, he doesn't want to accidentally offend her or something.
"I don't want to use them again, I had enough visions in the year before we killed him to last me a lifetime. If I can, I'm going to get the colt and kill Lilith with it." He sighs and scrubs a hand down his face, god, he's tired. "I guess I just wanted to check first, are they really still there? I mean obviously Azazel dying didn't remove the demon blood from me. I just didn't know I could still use them."
He watches her and Missouri's face is carefully blank, she wants him to talk before she reacts. He never talked to her about his powers being demonic, always assumed she knew. His dad had known, so she probably did too, then what was she so afraid of?
"Why don't you want to use your powers? You're a very strong boy, you can get the demon with it, what's stopping you?"
Dean telling he wasn't evil wasn't enough to convince him, still, he wanted his brother here. Fuck, how he was going to make it a year without him, he didn't know. It's been three days and he's going insane.
"My powers are demonic, Missouri. Azazel fed me his blood and I became some freak. I can do things demons can, sometimes I used to feel like one." Sam hides his face in his hands and takes a shuddering breath. "I just wanted to be normal."
"But you weren't born normal, Sam."
His head snaps up, Sam doesn't know what he expected to see in Missouri's face, it definitely wasn't sympathy.
"You were always like this."
What?
"Don't misunderstand boy, just listen." He nods his agreement. "Azazel didn't give you your powers. You were born a psychic."
He was what?
"The blood of the yellow-eyed demon changed you, that's true. However your powers are yours. Psychics tend to be, let's say experts in one certain area. I'm a sort of empath, much like your friend Andy was, we are connected to people. The girl, Lily, was extremely connected to death, poor kid. You and Ava happen to be prophetic, you are connected to the flow of time."
Sam is kind of gaping at her. He was born with them?
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you Sam, I thought you knew. A drop of demon blood can't change you that much. If it was a steady stream and you grew up drinking it, maybe it would've given you powers. The truth is Azazel fed his blood to kids that had psychic abilities already, if you were normal, the blood would've killed you."
"Wait but, he said…" He gets choked up, but Missouri takes pity on him.
"I know, Sam. He didn't tell you the truth though. The demon blood opened up a lot of opportunities for you. It makes you stronger and weaker at the same time. Your powers are more extensive than they would have been. Unfortunately it made him have control of them, it's the reason they didn't develop until he wanted them too, and why you couldn't really develop them."
His hands are shaking, he was being controlled. So what now? Why has nothing happened since the demon died?
"Honey, he's dead now. I'm not going to lie to you, the demon blood is still there." Of course it is, he doesn't feel any cleaner now than he did 8 months ago. "But he's gone, that means his influence is gone. Those powers? They're yours now, Sam. Like they always should've been."
That's nice to hear, it really is, but that's not the part that's tripping him. The powers are his, he was born with them. That means that Azazel went after him because he had them. He found a psychic kid and fed him his blood. It just means Sam was the reason his mother died.
"Don't you dare think like that, don't be stupid boy. How could it be your fault?"
"But if I didn't have them, he wouldn't have come after me. Or if I was never born, then my mom wouldn't have been killed! She walked in on him feeding me his blood, if I just didn't exist, she'd still be alive."
Dean wouldn't have had to grow up without his mom. His dad would've never went on his quest for revenge. The three of them could have lived a happy and normal life. Dean wouldn't have had to raise a kid and give up his childhood. His dad wouldn't have been disappointed. His mom wouldn't have burned on the ceiling much too young.
"My family suffered all of that because I was born, because I'm psychic or whatever. My powers aren't demonic, they're a fucking curse!"
Sam's eyes are watering and his chest feels heavy. He knew, he'd always known he wasn't supposed to be here. He knows why now. Dean should've let him stay dead back in May. Everything is his own god damn fault.
He squeezes his eyes shut to avoid crying and it just works to spill more tears. He just wants his brother back. He wants his dad back. He wants the mom he never knew back. He kind of wants to have never existed.
"So make it right."
Sam raises his head.
"What?"
Missouri's expression is serious, she holds his gaze and doesn't even blink. He can't seem to break eye contact.
"Fix it Sam. I'm firm on the fact that nothing that has happened is your fault. If Azazel hadn't gone after you, he would have gone after another kid. Maybe something else would've gotten your family. It's never been and never will be your fault child. You were a baby, you didn't ask for anything. Your mother loved you, your dad loved you. Your brother loves you as well."
Sam sniffles, he knows that. He knows he was loved, that's kind of the entire problem.
"Dean loves you. He is currently lying asleep because he loved you so much, he couldn't live without you. If he went back in time and could make the choice of not asking for you," Dean did what? "I guarantee he wouldn't take it. Your dad and your mom would make the same choice to have you, even if they knew what was coming."
He just keeps staring at her.
"If Dean could go back to May, he would make the same deal every time. He chose to save you, because he loves you. You shouldn't insult that choice."
Sam's breath hitches. " I wasn't-"
"You are. Sam you're so loved. Everything that has happened to you and your family has been Azazel's fault only. Never yours. Dean sold his soul for you. So you take that guilt, shove it in a box, and save your brother. You take ownership of those powers, you make them yours and yours only, and you turn them into something good."
Sam has to fight hard not to break into sobs, can he really?
"Of course you can, Sam. You know why? Because you're not a curse, you're a blessing. You were your mother's baby boy, she was just as happy to have you as she was with Dean. Your dad was so proud of you, and I'm sorry John never told you, but he was. He was so proud of you, as much as he hated you talking back, he admired that stubbornness. He told me you got a full ride at Stanford with a smile on his face, you were so smart and he loved you."
He wants to talk to his dad, hug him and say sorry. He wishes they had the chance to have a conversation, more than one.
"And Dean? Christ if that boy doesn't adore you. He asked for you and he loved you before you were born. That boy was so excited to have a little brother. He chose your name, you know? He suggested that it should be after grandpa like he was named after grandma. When you were born, you latched into his hand the first time you saw him and didn't let go. The first time you smiled was because he laughed at something, you just stared at him with the biggest smile you could make back then."
He didn't know any of this, how could he not know?
"You used to love being held by him," He still does. "used to put you right to sleep, when you weren't watching him with the biggest watery eyes. He carried you out that fire and tried to comfort you. After your mom died, neither of you fell asleep unless you were in the same place. He'd crawl into your crib and curl around you like that would keep you safe."
He did know that Dean used to crawl into his crib, because he didn't stop after he started sleeping in a bed. They only started sleeping separately when Dean grew a little too big to be sharing one. They still did sometimes, they could do it. So used to having each other in the same space that it wasn't much of a problem. They could make it work but they got too tall.
"Your first word was Dean, well, Dee." He gives a wet chuckle at this, he's pretty sure he started with Bee, and called him Bean for a long time before he finally called him Dee or Dean.
"You were a little over a year old and your father was worried that you could stand but not walk. He'd call you and you'd babble but not walk over. Then one time Dean sat down next to him on the floor. You let go of the table and walked three steps towards him before falling on your face. You got yourself up on your own, walked the last two steps and cried in his arms. Your dad was proud too."
He is not going to survive the year without his brother. Fuck Loki for asking him to let go, he'll always love his brother.
"You may have been a bit of a whiny child, but he loved taking care of you. He liked to feed you, because he knew he was keeping you alive. He loved making you giggle, it made him so happy. John mentioned it was long time before he smiled at anything but you. Dean was so proud at everything you achieved in school and outside it."
God, Dean should've been happy from the start.
"After Mary died, Dean didn't talk at all. You wouldn't sleep through the night either and would just cry. One day, your dad couldn't get you to stop, you were crying so hard he was afraid you'd stop breathing. Dean came over and took you in his arms. He talked for the first time in months, and you stopped crying too."
He didn't know that either, and yet he knows exactly what Dean said. He would have said It's okay Sammy, I'm here. Like he's said before time and time again. Sam has always felt safer with his brother and that would've worked like a charm.
"Your brother didn't deserve the responsibility of raising you, yes. But it was never a burden to him. He would've loved you just as fiercely if you were raised normal. You're his little brother, and he loves you. He would've never traded you for a happy life. You're part of what makes his life happy."
He can't be, but he does know that the same goes for him. Sam wakes everyday, and he wants to save people, he wants to learn and sometimes he wants to settle down and have a dog. Yet he knows he would never want any of those things if he didn't have Dean.
Maybe Loki was right and they were codependent.
He doesn't care as much as he should. He wants his brother next to him. He wants him to cry at his wedding. He wants him holding and spoiling his kids. He wants him to live next to him and have dinner with him. He wants Dean to have his own family. Most of all he just wants Dean happy and alive. If Sam has to be alive, and he has to be happy as well for that to happen, then he'll do it. He just needs Dean here too.
"So do me a favor, accept that he couldn't let you go, and that it's not your fault. We're going to reawaken those powers of yours. You're going to go out there, kill that stupid demon and save the world. Then you're going to get your brother back. You can do it Sam."
He does want to, he wants to hug Dean and never let go. They never say it, but he wants to. Dean needs to know Sam loves him too.
"Because you're good. You're such a good person. You're selfless and smart, and you save people and you put others first. You care so much and you don't stop until everyone is safe. You're empathic, even when it's hard. You advocate for innocents and you care just as much for the living as you do the dead. You're not a curse Sam. You're good and so are your powers. Because they're a part of you."
He drops his face and doesn't bother wiping the tears away. He'll do it, of course he'll do it. He wants his brother back. He's going to accept that he was born this way if it makes using them easier. It doesn't make him sob any less.
Missouri rounds the table and sits next to him. She rubs his back and lowers her voice.
"It'll be alright Sam. You're going to get stronger and kill Lilith. Your brother is not going to hell, he's in good hands."
Sam shudders and he's finally starting to catch his breath. He'll do it, if it's the last thing he does.
Missouri sighs, no doubt disapproving of what he just thought. He doesn't really care, she doesn't say anything anyway.
He takes a few minutes for the waterworks so stop before talking again. Missouri is smiling at him patiently.
"How do I start?"
~~~
Sam is lying on his back on the same couch a while later. Him and Missouri moved the table away, she's now sitting on a low stool next to him.
"Okay Sam. Your powers didn't stop working because Azazel died, although him not pushing them anymore didn't help. You see, even if you're not an empath, being psychic is all about emotions. I'm sure you've noticed they flare up with strong emotions or stressful moments."
It's true, like when he had the vision of Max Miller shooting Dean, and he'd moved the dresser.
"Well, much like emotions, sometimes, when someone doesn't want to think about it, they get repressed. It's kind of like your mind protecting you by making you forget bad memories or not feeling emotions. In your case, you were so affected by it, your powers fell asleep."
It kind of makes sense, he remembers where having those powers got him. He remembers the pain of the visions and his nose bleeding. He also remembers everything that happened in Cold Oak, and the rest of Azazel's so-called soldiers. It hadn't been a conscious decision but he would've liked to stop using them regardless.
"So it's kind of like a blockage. Instead of working through your emotions, we're going to help you wake them up. Although if you did stop associating them with bad memories, it'd help you use them a lot easier."
"So it's like we're skipping therapy and going straight into exposure?"
She shrugs. "Kind of, I'm just giving them a little shove so they get active again. The more you get a handle on them, the easier they'll be on your body. And by the way, the headaches were because Azazel was rushing you to use them after keeping them locked for 22 years. You shouldn't get them anymore, I wouldn't recommend pushing yourself anyway."
That's a relief, those headaches felt like his head getting split open.
"So you lay back and close your eyes." He obeys. She places one hand on each leg. "Focus on how it used to make you feel. The buzzing under your skin after a vision. The build up of the tension inside you. Remember the way you pushed it out of you.
He feels kind of ridiculous but he does it. He remembers the anger or the stress when he used them. He remembers the way it used to feel like something was lighting up inside him, heating him from the inside and burning everything in it's path. He remembers the rushing feeling when he finally let it go. How it'd leave a trail of ecstasy from his hand to his head. How good he felt afterwards.
He smiles at the imaginary voice that sounds suspiciously like Dean that says it sounds like taking a shit after a long time.
He focuses back on the feeling. How he felt empty but not in a bad way. It felt like releasing a tension in his soul. Like feeling the stress bleed out of your muscles in hot water. How it felt better when he used them often. Like when a muscle goes unused and then the more you use it, the easier it is.
"Yes exactly, focus on that feeling right there. It's nothing more than a muscle, just something you need to practice using. Like learning to walk or ride a bike, until it becomes automatic."
He's kind of spaced out, trying to recreate it when he feels something. It's cool and quiet, and he knows it's not his. What he's feeling is Missouri, his powers are burning and loud. She reaches into him, through his ankle. He feels her energy travel through his body like blood on his veins.
It works its way up to his chest before stopping. He can't feel what's blocking it but he can feel her pushing through it. So he focuses on keeping calm and remembering the few times he moved an object. She pushes and pushes against it, he only knows because he can feel her energy. She shatters the wall and he feels her power circle in his chest before retreating.
She moves the hand on that leg to his hand and he feels her energy on the other leg. It travels up before reaching his chest once more. This time it works faster, he knows what to feel to make it easier. She breaks through whatever is blocking her way and retreats again.
The hand on his leg moves to his other arm and the one in his arm moves to his head. She uses her energy to go through his arm to his chest. This time he feels it, the wall. He tries to relax and make it easier. She pushes and he feels the resistance, he tries to give her a little nudge. She breaks through this one too, and he feels the effects this time. He feels a little different.
She works her way up his other arm this time, maybe it's him but it moves faster than before. This time when she bumps into the wall in his chest, he feels it like he's the wall. He feels the impact against it and tries to soften the blow. He breathes slowly and makes it feel like drywall instead of bricks. She punches through much easier and circles again before leaving.
Finally she moves her hand up to join the other one on his head. He feels her energy more from here, like it's more present than just a whisper of it. When she gets to his chest, he's prepared. She pushes and pushes but this is much stronger of a barrier than the rest. He grits his teeth and reminds himself that he's doing this for Dean. He pictures his brother's face when he said he didn't want to go to hell and he takes a hammer to the wall.
Sam feels it shatter, he feels Missouri's energy rush through, and he feels something else. He gasps quietly, because he can feel his. He can feel his powers again. He's realizing just now that he's been feeling off for months. Like when there's a background sound, and you don't even realize it until it goes quiet.
He doesn't feel so empty anymore. His chest is alight with his energy. It doesn't burn, in fact, it's just warm. Like a blanket after you wake up, it's warm and comfortable and his. He hadn't ever been this attuned to them. His head feels more alive now, there's no muffled sounds, it's all clear.
Missouri retreats her hands and he's so high on the bliss he's sure he loses a few minutes just taking in the feeling. Finally, he sighs and opens his eyes. He looks sideways and Missouri is back in her original chair. The table is in its place and the mugs aren't there anymore. He spaced out that long?
He smiles at her as he sits up and his shoulders sag. "That felt…good."
She nods and smiles wide. "I bet it did, repressing that part of you is as bad as repressing your emotions. It affects you more than you think."
He rubs at his eyes and yawns. Despite the newfound energy, he's spent. The blanket in the morning analogy might not be that far off. He's tired as hell.
Missouri's smile softens knowingly and she shakes her head.
"Of course you're spent, it's normal. Listen, it's pretty late-
"Wait, is it?"
He shrinks sheepishly when she glares for interrupting. He looks at his watch and what the fuck. It's 6 PM. They started at 2:15. Missouri lets out a laugh at his face.
"It took us longer than you think to get through the walls you built. It just didn't feel like it to you. I made dinner while you were getting used to it."
He startles.
"Dinner?! How long was I doped up for?"
She chuckles again and makes a so-so motion with her hand.
"Like an hour, give or take."
His mouth drops often, it just makes him yawn again. Missouri seems to take pity on him and doesn't laugh again, but she clearly wants to.
"It's not that late, so how about you and I eat something. Then you can go upstairs and sleep in the guest bedroom."
Sam shakes his head, he should head to Colorado.
"There's no need Missouri, I can head out and get a motel if I'm really tired."
She purses her lips and gives him a bitch face that could rival his own.
"Don't be stupid boy. I'm offering that room because you clearly need it. It's at least six hours to where you're going and you probably couldn't get to your car without passing out."
She's right, he's sitting down and he feels like he's about to crash right there and then. Either way he doesn't know exactly where Bela is and his contact was going to call him tomorrow anyway. If he leaves tomorrow morning, he'll be in a much better state to raid wherever Bela is, he's on his own and that's dangerous.
He doesn't need to tell Missouri that he agrees, she just smiles at him and offers him a hand. He most definitely needs it to get up. Staying is not a problem, he just doesn't know how he's going to get through dinner without face planting into his food.
Missouri leads him to the table. He's so tired he doesn't really know what he's eating. He picks up the fork and shovels pasta in his mouth. He thinks maybe there was a salad but he couldn't remember even with a gun to his head.
Sam registers going up the stairs to a room. He walks forward and falls face first into the bed. He has enough energy left in him to turn on his side and curl inwards. He clutches at the amulet like he had done at Bobby's and doesn't feel anything until the morning.
~~~
Sam wakes up the next day feeling more rested than he has in a really long time. It's early enough that the sky is just beginning to turn into the soft blue before sunrise.
He won't be able to sleep any more. Even if he did, this time there will be nightmares waiting for him. So he gets up and sends a quiet apology to Missouri for not asking and takes a shower in the attached bathroom.
He gets a change of clothes from his bag, which he doesn't remember bringing upstairs. He pats Dean's amulet under his shirt and packs his stuff.
By the time he heads downstairs there's sunlight trickling in through the windows. Missouri is in the kitchen when he gets there.
"I'm sorry if I woke you."
She smiles from where she's making eggs on the stove, without turning to look at him.
"You didn't, our stint yesterday drained me too. I slept early as well." She's serving two plates of eggs as she talks. "And don't think you're leaving without some food in you boy, you can spare 20 minutes."
Sam sighs, he could just go. But something tells him she can and will stop him. She puts plates on the table and gestures to the chair opposite of her.
"Now sit down. You haven't even received the call yet."
He does sit down and digs in. Thankfully she doesn't try to talk to him through it all. Not that he hates her, he just can't handle conversation right now.
Doesn't matter that he can still feel the power swimming inside him. He can and it feels good. Nothing like that matters right now, he needs to go and get the Colt, then he can start looking for Lilith.
When they're done he picks up both plates and scrubs them in the sink. The entire time he's just waiting for his phone buzz.
Missouri meets him by the door when he's heading out. She turns to him with a sad smile and he squirms. He doesn't need that.
She pulls him down for a hug, much like she'd done yesterday. It's much quicker but she gives a firm squeeze before letting him go. He turns to go, but she's not done.
"Sam." She takes a breath. "I hope you get the gun, I do. If you can't, promise me you'll come see me to help you. Your powers aren't just a back up plan, they're a good option."
He's going to find The Colt, he has too. He'll follow Bela to Europe if that's what it takes. A year is long enough to track her down. He's not going to need to see Missouri, and if he does, it'll be a while before he does come back. Even if she knows what he's thinking, he doesn't say that. He nods in agreement instead.
"One more thing." She grabs his hand and puts a folded piece of paper on his palm. "In times like these, the more people you have by your side the better. Ask them if they know your father, and don't turn away from them."
His dad? He opens up the paper and it's an address, in Windom, Minnesota. Did his dad know some hunters there?
"And child?" She's smiling like she's holding back laughter. "You might want to call Singer as well, he's stressed out as hell."
"Shit." He takes his phone as he's walking towards the car, before he opens the door he turns and waves. "Thank you!"
She's laughing so hard he hears her after she closes the door. He dials Bobby and sets his bag in the backseat. He answers the phone in the first ring and Sam has to move the phone away from his ear from how loud he yells at him.
"Sam?! You idjit, where have you been? I'm old, I can't be stressed because I have no idea if you're alive or not!"
He wasn't the only one who was affected by Dean getting taken. He should call more often, it doesn't do either of them a favor to not know if the other is okay.
"I've been calling you for almost an entire day. You couldn't take a second to press a single on your phone, you jackass?
He starts the car and rolls down a few blocks before Bobby finally calms down a little.
"Are you out of your damn mind?! Do you know how wo-" He stops himself because god forbid Bobby cares. "Well? What do you have to say for yourself Sam?"
He really does sound like a mom, if Sam knew how that felt. He tells him as much and all that greets him is a quiet anger from the other side. Guess he really was worried.
Sam sighs and decides to be serious after all.
"I'm sorry, Bobby." He apologizes as he pulls into the I-70.
Sam explains the events from the day and chats a little with Bobby. He complains about a call he got from Rufus about a favor he needed. Sam tells him he feels a lot better in terms of his body.
They stay on the phone for a while after that. Neither of them says it but hearing the other talk helps them. They say goodbye and Sam focuses back on the road.
Unlike the day before, he looks for a station before he finds one with soft rock and sets the volume lower than he ever has it. He doesn't think he can handle getting one of Dean's tapes from under the seat.
So all he does is drive and retreat into his own thoughts. Bela better give up The Colt. If she doesn't, well. He's already going to hunt down one spawn of Hell, what's another one?
~~~
Sam had gotten the call from Shawn to let him know where Bela is just as he was leaving Kansas. She was in Monument.
He makes it to Castle Rock and rents a double in some no-name motel, before heading down to the actual town. He grabs a burger in the McDonald's and looks for the address Shawn gave him.
He waits outside in the car while he eats. It's almost three and he hasn't seen Bela or anybody enter the room. He decides to finally go in, he can't lose this chance.
Sam tucks his Taurus under his jacket and walks towards the room. He really hopes Bela isn't in there, he can take her, but it would've been much easier with two people. He crouches to pick the lock and spends the entire time anxiously looking over his shoulder, which usually Dean would cover.
He takes his gun out in front of him and opens the door. He closes the door behind him and sweeps the room with his eyes for any sign of Bela, it doesn't really look like she's here at all.
He walks around just to make sure before he finally starts looking for The Colt.
He checks under the bed, in the safe, in every drawer, in the closet, on top and under furniture. It's not here. And judging by the wigs in the dresser this is Bela's room. So she must have taken it with her. Well that's just going to make this harder.
A headache is beginning to form behind his eyes. Her stuff is here, did she leave leave or just went out? Should he just come back later?
"Damn it!" He stomps his foot and the light in the ceiling shatters.
Oh. Sam needs to be more careful from now on.
He curses Bela for being sensible and not leaving the gun. He'll just wait her out, it's fine. She might come back for her stuff. If she doesn't, someone will have seen her leave.
He's interrupted by the ringing of the phone on the bed. He looks outside but there's nobody there. Weird. Maybe he can get some info on whoever is calling her.
He walks over and picks up the phone with two fingers, he'll wipe it later. The last thing he needs is to be wanted for breaking and entering.
The accent that answers from the other side just makes it even worse. He pinches the bridge of his nose and holds back a snort.
"Dean? Sweetie, you there?"
Of course, she knew. Not everything apparently, but Sam's not about to tell her that Dean's not exactly available at the moment.
"Bela."
"Oh, Sammy! Nice to hear your voice as well. Is Dean there? I like to banter with him, you're boring."
This was a fucking set up. Well, too bad for her. Dean was somewhere nobody could find him, and this wasn't going to go the way she planned.
"Where are you?"
"Two states away by now. You and your brother didn't think I'd stick around to greet you, right?"
That's fine, he can find her again.
"I want The Colt back, Bela."
"Did someone piss in your coffee this morning, Sam? You're not always this bitchy with me. Anyway, can't give you your little pistol back. Finders keepers."
That bitch, she fucking stole it. They had it, and she knew they needed it, she still took it.
"Bela, you can't give it away. Please, I need it."
He pleads with her through gritted teeth, he doesn't have a lot of cards to play here.
"For what? To save Dean from his deal? You guys are not the only people in the world Sam. You need to start remembering that."
She can't be talking, she's going to sell it. For money, just like she killed her parents for money.
"I'm trying to save a life here. That gun in the wrong hands is extremely dangerous, people will die! Bela, you're doing this for some cash, don't talk to me about self-centered."
It's quiet for a second, before her voice comes out strained and angry.
"You don't know anything about me or what I want."
That clearly hit a nerve, guess there's a little extra something to her story. Not like he cares, noble intentions or not he needs it to save Dean.
"I'm going to get it back, one way or the other."
"Sure honey, if you can find me that is."
He chuckles, of course he can find her. There's an entire network of hunters that would rat her out for a cold beer.
"I will. And don't you worry, because Bela? I got nothing if not time. Running away is much harder than chasing."
She's the one laughing this time.
"Well, Sam. You say you have nothing but time, but we all know your brother expires in May." Not exactly, but he's not going to correct her. He's patient, if he needs to he'll wait her out. People get sloppy when they think they're safe. "Oh and, you won't have that much free time anyway, you're about to be quite occupied."
He's about to ask what she means before the door is kicked inwards. Four police officers run in with guns pointed at him.
"Hands in the air!"
"Down on your knees!"
Fuck.
"Don't move!"
He raises both hands in the air and curses. This is the last thing he needed.
"On the ground. Now!"
Two officers push him down on his knees while the other two sweep the rest of the room.
"Dean Winchester has escaped, he's not here." They report towards the door.
"Sam Winchester, you have the right to remain silent." From where his face is being pushed into the carpet, he can just make out a pair of boots entering the room. "Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."
The boots stop right in front of him, so he stretches his neck to try and look at the guy.
"You have the right to an attorney and have one present during questioning." The cuffs bite into his wrists and the knee in his lower back will definitely leave a bruise. "If you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be appointed to you at government expense."
His gaze settles on the man towering over him, it's Victor Henriksen. With his stupid smirk, chewing stupid gum and his stupid FBI jacket.
"Hi Sam." Oh that smug motherfucker. "It's been a while."
He lets his face fall back to the floor in exasperation.
Double fuck.