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Y/N swung her Machete and the last vampire’s head rolled to the floor. With oozing blood splattered across the room and on the side of her face, Y/N wiped her face on her sleeve and grimaced at the mess it left. That stain wasn’t going to come out in a cold wash. Sighing to herself, Y/N wiped down her weapon and cracked a few kinks that had built up in her neck. Still riding on the hunter’s high, Y/N jumped when the ringing and vibrating of her phone came from behind her. With her fists tightly wound, ready for a fight, she laughed to herself as she realized the source of the noise was her own phone and not a predator.
She reached into her back pocket, pulling out her phone, and looking at the caller ID. She smiled and flipped the phone open.
“You have impeccable timing.” She greeted as she walked out the door of the abandoned building. “Just finished beheading a bunch of suckers.”
“I heard you were up at Colorado, how’d it go?” Bobby’s gruff voice crackled through the other end of the phone.
“Pretty well actually. In and out case. Might head on over to Austin, didn’t you say there was a nest over there?” Y/N walked over to her car parked around the side of the building, opening the boot and chucking in the machete before slamming it shut.
“Don’t bother, Sam took care of it.” Bobby should have sounded relieved or at least slightly happy at the news of another nest of Vamps rid from the world. But oddly enough, he sounded worried.
“How does that boy keep beating me to all these hunts? Doesn’t he stop to sleep? Or eat? Or breathe?” She asked, walking around to the driving side of the car and settling in the seat.
“I”m worried about him, Y/N. Since Dean… he’s been obsessed.”
“Well have you spoken to him?”
“He won’t answer the phone.”
“Well do you know where he’s staying? You could drop in on him.”
“Well, I was thinking…” Bobby didn’t finish his sentence, his voice trailing off to silence.
“Bobby…”
“He needs help Y/N.” Y/N thought for a moment before sighing audibly.
“My bike needs a new engine.” She informed him of his payment and turned on the car engine ready to drive.
Sam walked towards his motel door, and around step number five, he could see something wasn't quite right. The door was slightly cracked open and a small light glowing from within. It wasn’t the maid cleaning up. He’d just seen her leave a room on the floor below, and his ‘DO NOT DISTURB’ sign was still hanging from the doorknob. Someone had broken into his room. He stood and listened by the door, waiting for any noise to erupt. The noise was gentle, barely audible but unmistakable to a hunter's trained ear. He heard a page turn of a book and the small thud of a mug being place on a table. Someone was making themselves at home clearly. Sam pushed open the door in a quick motion, hoping to shock the intruder with his sudden presence. He turned on the main light of the room and scanned the interior. Sitting cross-legged on a wooden chair, turning pages of a book, and sipping a hot drink from the matching table was Y/N. She didn’t look up at him.
“Finally.” She said flatly, still not looking up at Sam. “I've been reading in the dark for almost an hour.”
“Y/N? How’d you get in here?” Y/N looked up with a raised eyebrow painted on her face. A stupid question really. “Why are you here?” Sam asked. She still didn’t reply, just settled deeper in her chair and picked up her mug. Sam rolled his eyes and shut the door behind him. “Bobby called you.”
“Oh thank god. For a second there I was worried you were losing your brain as well as your looks.” Y/N watched as Sam walked around her, throwing his bag onto the bed and heading to hang his jacket up on a hook. But before he pulled his arm out of the other sleeve he stopped, thought better of it, and replaced the other hand into the sleeve. “I don’t think so.” Y/N murmured with an annoyed expression on her face. Like hell was he going to hide something from her, let alone a wound he knew full well she could help patch up.
She stood from her seat and stopped right in front of Sam. She moved her hand to push the fabric of his coat aside but he grabbed her wrist and stopped her. Looking up at him, she saw his challenging eyes attempting to intimidate her into surrender. She stared back at his with the same look and tilted head. “Really? We’re going to play that game?” Sam held his stare for a few more seconds before relenting and releasing Y/N’s hand. “Thank you.” She said sarcastically. Y/N pulled the jacket out of the way and saw the blood-stained t-shirt. She looked closer and could see the small burned hole through the fabric. “For your sake, I hope you haven't been as stupid as I think you’ve been!” She let the fabric loose, shoving his shoulder harshly.
“It’s fine.” He grunted.
“It’s a bullet wound!” Y/N countered. “Is the bullet still in there?” Sam nodded. “Right, sit.” Sam didn’t move. “Now Sam!” Rolling his eyes like a perpetual child Sam finished pulling off his jacket and sat down on the bed. Y/N went to her bag and pulled out her first aid kit, she never went anywhere without it. She pulled out the hydrogen peroxide, scissors, tweezers, a needle, and surgical thread, and several swabs to clean the wound.
Y/N knelt down on the ground at Sam’s feet, straightening her back to give her some height and easy access to the bullet hole. She took the scissors and cut upwards to expose the wound and blood. “So, groundhog day? What was it like?” When Dead had been shot, Bobby called Y/N to give her the sad news. She was devastated. She’d loved Dean like a brother and could never have imagined his death would have been so pedestrian. But her heart ached more for Sam. She’d expected him to react like this if she was being honest. She knew it was only a matter of time before she got the call from Bobby. He’d told her about Sam getting stuck in a loop, every day reliving itself and watching Dean die. Until the day he realized the Trickster had been behind it and tackled him down. But since hunters are rarely that lucky, he pushed them to the next day when Dean met his end, only this time Sam didn’t wake up and start again. “For crying out loud, Sam. Talk to me.” She grumbled, reaching for the bottle.
“I watched my brother die again and again and couldn’t do anything about it. Wha do you think it was like? You think talking about it is going to make me feel better?” He scoffed bitterly.
“No, but you’re gonna want to talk about something to keep you distracted when I do…” she took the peroxide and poured onto the wound. Sam hissed and fisted the bedsheets in his hand. “that.” She completed. Sam looked at her with angry eyes that only burnt wilder when he saw her smug smile. He glared at her as she turned to pick up the tweezers and leaned closer into his body. “This is going to hurt even more.” She told him, poking the end of the tweezers into his skin. He grunted and his body jerked away from her, but Y/N quickly pulled him back with her other hand. “Stay.” She ordered.
Sam felt the tweezers rummaging around in his flesh until finally Y/N managed to take hold of the bullet and pulled it out with an accomplished smile on her face. “Got ya! Wanna keep it?” She offered, pointing the bullet into his face. Sam knocked it away, not being able to fight the smirk on his face at Y/N’s enthusiasm. Y/N chuckled along as she prepped the needle and thread. Sam braced himself again as Y/N slowly started stitching the wound shut. “Doesn’t this bring back memories?” She whispered quietly as she worked on sewing Sam up. Sam looked down with a scrunched face.
“What memories?”
“The werewolf in Oregon?” Y/N offered, prompting Sam’s memory. He smiled and nodded remembering the exciting events of that trip. “Remember? That Werewolf scratched your shoulder up so deeply me and Dean thought you were gonna die from blood loss.”
“He wasn’t so concerned. He hooked up with some blonde at a bar whilst you stitched me up.” He laughed gently to himself, for a moment forgetting his brother was dead and not just out picking up food and drink.
“If I remember rightly, you were happy he went out that night.” Sam looked down to see Y/N smirking evilly to herself, going over the events of that night. He returned her flirtatious smirk when she looked up through her eyelashes.
“you were too.”
“I never denied that.” Y/N smiled wickedly before turning back to the task at hand. As her hands resting on Sam’s bare stomach, he reminisced about the last time her hands were on him like this. Only it was a lot less painful and a lot more pleasurable. They’d never really spoken about the night they’d spent together since. They didn’t tell Dean or Bobby. Silently they agreed it was a one-time thing and didn’t need announcing to the world. Yet they still flirted and joked about that night often.
Y/N finished stitching Sam up, cut the thread, and stood up from the floor. “You’re welcome,” she chimed before Sam had a chance to thank her. He laughed at her boldness and nodded.
“I owe you one. Just name it.” He muttered, observing the stitches along his side.
“Okay,” Y/N began. “Sort your shit out, and we’ll call it even.”
“What?” Sam asked, watching how Y/N tidied up her belongings into her bag. He was surprised when he watched her pick up and wrap her jacket around her shoulders. “You’re not staying?” Y/N untucked her hair from the collar of her jacket and shook her head.
“I told Bobby I’d come to kick some sense into you, not spend the night holding your hand. Especially since you don’t need me to.” Sam looked at her with his confused face, waiting for her words to make sense. She smiled and walked towards him, stopping to tower over his sitting form. “You lost your brother and you want to get him back. If you think you can track that Trickster down and make him undo everything, do it. But stop being a dick and answer Bobby’s calls.”
“Y/N it’s not that simp…”
“Yes, it is. I know you think you can do this on your own, but you don’t have to. Pick up the damn phone. Okay?” Sam looked up at her, finding himself obsessing over the natural balance of harshness and softness Y/N had about her. He smiled and nodded.
“Okay.” Y/N smiled back and leaned down, cupping Sam’s face in her hands and briefly pressing her lips to his.
“See you around Winchester.” She smiled and turned to walk away.
You gotta promise me I’ll be back in time!
The music blasted through Sam’s ears and he bolted up to sitting right away.
“What? You gonna sleep all day?” Dean stood with his head pocking out from the bathroom brushing his teeth. Sam’s eyes went wide. He was back. “I know, no Asia. This station sucks.” Dean complained at the music of Huey Lewis and The News, completely unaware of the ordeal his younger brother had just gone through. Sam looked at the clock and saw the day.
“It’s Wednesday.”
“Yeah, which usually follows Tuesday. Turn that thing off.” Dean rinsed his toothbrush under the tap to clean it, and when he turned back his brother tackled him into a tight hug. “Dude, how many Tuesdays did you have?”
“Enough. Wait? What do you remember?” Sam pulled away from his brother to study his response.
“I remember you were pretty whacked out yesterday. Remember catching up with the Trickster, but that’s about it.” Sam nodded, that was good.
“Let’s go.”
“No breakfast?”
“No breakfast.”
“Alright, I’ll go pack the car.”
“You’re not going anywhere alone.” His brother protested.
“It’s the parking lot, Sam!”
“Just trust me.”
.
.
They jumped in the car, ready to drive as far away from the Mystery spot as possible. Before they set off on their journey, Dean felt his phone go off.
“It’s Y/N.” He noted. Sam darted his head to his brother. “Wonder what she wants.”
“Let me answer it.” He reached for the phone, fighting with his confused brother until he relented and gave him the phone.
“Such a freak!” He wined as Sam answered the phone.
“Y/N!”
“Oh hey, Sam. I was expecting Dean. Everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine. Oh Y/N, it's so good to hear your voice.” Dean turned his head to look at his brother. He wasn’t playing it casual at all.
“Really? Wow! thanks. I was just calling to ask if you would mind helping me out on a case. Looks like ghosts. You anywhere near Kansas?”
“Doesn’t matter how far we are. We’ll come help. Listen Y/N. Thank you, for helping me. You know, patching me up the other day.”
“Honey are you drunk?” Y/N laughed. “The last time I patched you up was that Werewolf in Oregon. And if I remember correctly, you thanked me enough then.” Sam laughed at her sly flirtation and remembered what happened. Since Dean had never died, Y/N had never needed to visit and kick his ass back in gear. He just smiled.
“Right, well text us your address and we’ll come to you. Perhaps relive those memories in Oregon.” Sam hung up before Y/N could reply, leaving her staring at her phone in shock, and slightly impressed.