Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Lincoln, 1998

“Come with me.”

Sam’s eyes shot up to meet Amy’s terrified blue gaze. But she continued, “We don’t have to be alone. We can be freaks together, Sam.”

“I can’t,” Sam said, eyes drawn away from her to his feet. How could he deal with this? Amy had finally made him feel like a real person. Like the weird not-quite-fitting-in-his-own-skin thing was normal. And then she turned out to be a kitsune. But then she killed he own mother for him. What was he supposed to do?  “I’m sorry.”

“Please, Sam,” she asked again, “I don’t know where else to go or what to do. I-” Her eyes locked onto the cooling corpse of her mother.

Later, Sam would admit that it was a split-second decision, one without much thought behind it. It definitely wasn’t given the consideration that an only-barely-fifteen-year-old should give to the thought of running away from home, but for just a moment she’d made him feel like he, Sam, was good enough just the way he was.

“Okay.” As he said it, his world shifted into something sharper. A mindset he'd been trained to sink into his entire life. What would a hunter do if they stumbled into a Kitsune’s house and saw this? What would they see and what would they know?  Sam moved to the kitchen and ignored the mason jar with a brain floating in it to look for anything flammable, “You grab the cash, any food you have, and anything you want to keep. Anything we can’t carry with us we’re going to have to burn. We can’t leave signs that anyone besides your mom ever lived here for a hunter to find.”  

After a week with Amy, Sam was afraid he’d made the wrong decision.

It’s not that Amy had done anything wrong. Living with Amy was actually one of the best parts of the entire mess.

But the decision to run was not well planned. Throughout his entire childhood, Sam had dreamed of being able to run away and live a normal life in a normal house, with a dog, and with Dean.

He didn't get any of that.

Amy’s mother had left a surprising amount of cash tucked away in the house for Amy to pilfer, but Sam supposed, if one was a supernatural creature who might have to go to ground at the drop of a hat, being prepared definitely had its bonuses. Amy thought there might be more supplies in a few train station lockers scattered throughout the country, but she couldn't be sure what, if anything would be found.

He and Amy were warm, and had plenty to eat, but even if they did get their hands on more cash, it wouldn’t last forever.

Sam wondered if Amy was having doubts as well, and immediately felt guilty for his train of thought. It’s not like Amy could take anything back if she wanted to. Amy had killed her own kind, her only family, to protect Sam.

He knew he was a mess- a veritable rollercoaster of conflicting emotions. But the benefits and negatives of his newfound situation were both so strong, it was hard to do anything besides boomerang between elation and terror.

On the one hand…..Freedom was as wonderful as it was frightening. Whereas travel with his father had always seemed such a chore, a week of near constant movement with Amy wasn’t nearly so bad when he got to keep a consistent friend and had a say in what was happening and where they would go. Amy wasn’t too picky about where they went or what they did as long as they were safe. And Amy had spent enough of her childhood traveling that it wasn’t new or strange for her.

For the first time in his entire life, Sam felt like he was in control of his life and his future.

And yes, there was still travelling, he hadn’t escaped that part of his life, but there was no more hunting. He could be his own person instead of being defined by his family.

But the negatives… Sam might've been in control of the future, but that didn't make it any more certain. An uncertain future just made him think about Dean. Dean who had been the only constant he had. Dean who he had left behind.

Leaving Dean was the hardest part. Sam couldn’t help but shy away from thoughts of his brother to avoid the uncomfortable weight that would otherwise form in the pit of his stomach.

This was the best way to become his own person. Not John Winchester’s kid. Not a hunter-kid. Just Sam.

Sam shook his introspective thoughts away. He needed to ignore the negatives, because despite his doubts, he would not go back. Amy needed him. She alternated between the pleasant enigmatic girl that Sam had met at the library and someone who was silent and pained nearly often as Sam’s own polarized moods shifted. She couldn’t take back her decision like Sam could, and he wouldn’t leave her after committing to this path.

He needed to bury that part of himself; it wouldn’t help him or Amy. And he needed to focus for her. The singular brain her mother had brought home the night they fled hadn't lasted very long, and human food could only do so much for a kitsune. They would have to find a way to feed her soon.

After two days of observation they made their move. Small-town funeral parlors aren’t well known for their security, and it was easy for Sam to ensure they found one without any cameras. Leaving no trace of who had been there was the only way to assure their safety.

Shortly after 5pm, Sam and Amy watched an employee leave Brown & Sons Mortuary and Crematorium and lock the door behind them. It was earlier than they’d locked up the previous two days, and Sam insisted they wait a few additional hours to make sure no one was coming back before they attempted to enter.

It was surprisingly easy to get inside. Even without a lock-pick set, Sam didn’t need more than a few of Amy’s hairpins to open the back-door. He entered before Amy, performing a quick sweep to verify they were alone and that no additional security would detect them before he moved to the back of the building.

Sam made short work of the final lock between the parlor itself and a large door marked Employee’s Only, allowing Amy first entry.

Sam had expected it to be industrial. Sterile. Maybe stainless-steel coated racks of refrigerators built into the walls. A room resembling a morgue from crime-shows.

It was nothing like that.

The room was large, with wooden floors. The back side of the room had built-in wooden cabinets and a plastic-topped counter with an odd pump next to a small sink. Two large white tables stood in the middle of the room, clean and bare. Three coffins were pressed against the walls of the room, lids closed. A single refrigerator was wedged between two of the coffins. For all that the refrigerator looked 8 feet deep, the height and width didn’t appear too different from an average kitchen fridge.

Sam slipped the backpack he’d been wearing from his shoulder while Amy moved to open the coffins. Sam had packed a backpack for them of thermoses and mason jars so that Amy could store what she could. Brains wouldn’t last too long outside of a human skull- especially ones that were already being harvested from less-than-fresh humans, but they would make do with what they had.

Sam laid the containers out on one of the white tables and looked to Amy, who had extended her kitsune claws but had not yet begun harvesting from the bodies.

“It doesn’t smell very appealing,” and she wrinkled her nose at the corpse of the elderly gentleman in the casket.

“Have you ever, uh-” Sam mimed a jabbing motion as if he had claws of his own, and Amy shook her head.

“No, but I think I’ve got this,” she hesitated a moment, “Do you want to leave? The room, at least, I mean. I’m not sure how clean this will be.”

Sam bit the inside of his cheek. He very much wanted to leave the room, but that didn’t seem like the move a supportive friend should make, “It’s fine.”

Sam did avert his eyes as she cracked the man’s skull behind the earlobe. Just like an icepick, Sam thought deliriously. Okay, maybe the situation was getting to him a bit. This is fine. Freak out later. Amy needs food.

Amy pulled a chunk of the man’s brain out through the newly made hole and brought it to her nose. “Sam, there’s something really wrong,” she inhaled deeply, “It doesn’t smell like food. It smells like- like kitchen cleaner and bad pickles.”

Sam swallowed. He could do this, “Um. Probably formaldehyde. The embalming process actually makes it impossible to collect Dead Man’s blood too. Dean told me-uh…. Doesn’t matter," He was rambling, "Anyways. Check the fridge.”

Amy closed the coffin lid and made her way over to the refrigerator. Two bodies waited inside. “Those-uh. Those bodies are probably for cremation. They’ll still be normal. Probably.”

Sam tried not to pay too much attention when Amy began harvesting the corpses in earnest. His assessment on the state of the refrigerated bodies must have been correct, as she began sorting out pieces of brain and placing them into containers.

“I thought kitsune only ate the pituitary glands,” Sam commented. Apparently he was not good at this whole not paying attention thing.

Amy nodded, and continued sorting the pieces, “Yeah, the pituitary is definitely the best part, but the entire brain stem will feed us. I don’t think I’m really going to have the luxury of picky eating anymore,” she looked up at him sheepishly, claws dark with bits of pink and grayish material still speared to them.

Sam nodded and swallowed again, not trusting his voice to speak. Instead he moved forward to the table and began putting lids on jars and placing finished containers back into their backpack.

They quickly cleaned up the room as best as possible, and Amy washed off once-again-clawless hands in the sink.

“Thank you, Sam,” she said when they were finished.

“You’re welcome. It was no problem,” and here, as they stepped outside of the room with the corpses that felt more like the truth.

But Amy laughed lightly, “No, it was! You were obviously kinda freaking out during the whole brain part. But you stayed. And you helped me.”

Sam smiled at Amy’s laugh. He hadn’t gotten to hear it very often since they’d left Lincoln, but it was a nice laugh. When it happened her eyes smiled, crinkled up in the corners, and her whole face lit up. Bright blue-eyes, and sweet blonde hair. And Dean and Dad would’ve killed her if they’d ever found her in that house.

“It’s what friends do; you’ve gotta eat. I’ll get more used to it as we go,” a corner of his mouth quirked upwards, “I mean this is kinda part of the package I signed up for. Freaks together, right?”

Amy moved forward slowly eyes locked on Sam's mouth. His mind froze as she pressed her lips to his. Sam had a brief flash of relief that Amy hadn’t actually yet eaten any of the brains they’d just harvested before he was able to press back gently against her mouth and rest a hand on her arm.

He was there, and Amy was there, and they would be okay.

Chapter Text

Grantsburg,  1998  (Three Months Post-Lincoln)  

Sam huffed and bit the inside of his cheek as he looked at the pathetically small mathematics section of the Grantsburg library. 

In the months after leaving Lincoln, Sam had signed himself up for homeschool. It wasn’t anything fancy: a boxed curriculum of magazines, textbooks, and workbooks were delivered to a PO box he’d set up for himself in Minneapolis. But it was sufficient. With all of the extracurricular hunting research he’d done for his dad and brother over the years, English and History were practically a cakewalk. Without a teacher, however, trigonometry was proving more difficult. 

He’d just have to pick a larger city with a decent sized library after Grantsburg. 

It had been Amy’s turn to pick where they went after another trip to Minneapolis, and she’d wanted somewhere small and quiet. Somewhere with plenty of trees and hiking trails. Traveling north-east to the tiny towns scattering rural Wisconsin made sense. 

And the Grantsburg Motel had on-premises laundry. Priorities. 

It was a nice, quiet town though, nearby towns speckled with small mortuaries. He and Amy could probably stretch out staying in the area for a few weeks before they’d be forced to move on. 

Amy’s soft, delighted laughter broke through Sam’s thoughts, and he turned away from the shelves to see what had caused it. 

Two other teens stood with Amy, one a petite girl who appeared around Sam and Amy’s age with a pixie-cut of straw-colored curls, the other was a boy pushing his upper teens. Amy let go of both of the other girl’s hands to touch the young man’s shoulder. 

Sam studied the guy more closely. He was definitely older than Sam and Amy-late teens, maybe even pushing his early twenties. Sam had gained another inch in the last few months, but this guy was a full head taller than Amy. He had dark hair, a lean frame, and he flashed a very white glint of teeth when he smiled at Amy. 

Sam felt small stirrings of jealously in the pit of his stomach and promptly shoved them away. He was being ridiculous. 

Amy looked over her shoulder in Sam’s direction and threw a bright smile at him. She turned back to the two teens, speaking in a voice too quiet for Sam to hear. The blonde girl squealed in delight before digging through her purse and pulling out a small notebook. She scribbled something on a piece of paper before tearing it out and handing it to Amy. With a wave, Blonde-Girl drug Tall Teen out of the library.  

Well that was…different . 

He was baffled. Sam knew that Amy’s mother had never allowed her to have friends. It was part of the reason that she’d rebelled so hard against her former life. But like himself, Amy had been pretty socially awkward and until this point had never made a move to add anyone else to her social circle besides Sam. The quick friendship with two strangers in a library seemed a little out of character.  But maybe that was a good thing? Something like healing for Amy. 

“So, made some new friends, huh?” Sam asked as he approached. Amy quickly slid her hand into his. 

“Yeah,” she grinned excitedly, “Bess and Charlie! They-uh,” she looked around. An older librarian was looking at the two of them, his lips set into a disapproving line, “Actually, are you done here? Are you ready to go?” 

Sam looked at her strangely, “Yeah, couldn’t find what I was looking for here.” 

She smiled and nodded her head towards the exit, pulling his hand gently as she made to leave. 

As Sam had been with Amy and they’d grown more comfortable with their new circumstances, he’d begun to understand her small gestures and could predict some of what she was thinking. 

This was completely unreadable. 

The second they were out the doors of the library, Amy broke out in an excited but low voice, “Bess and Charlie are both werewolves! Uh-lycanthropes!” 

Sam felt as if someone had dumped ice water over his head, “What?”  

Amy didn’t seem to notice his distress in her excitement, “Yeah! They’ve lived here for generations! Bess’s grandfather used to be the leader of the pack, but her dad is taking over now that he’s sick. He’s also the reverend at one of the churches in town. They don’t get many other non-humans in a town this small and invited us over for cookies and lemonade in a couple of hours!” 

Her grin slowly dropped as she studied his face, “Sam, what’s wrong?” 

He blinked at her. “Werewolves…  eat human hearts,” he said slowly, “I-I just,” he blinked again, unsure how to process the thought of Amy having werewolves for friends. 

“Oh, no! No. They’re like me. No humans harmed in the making of their dinner,” her smile was back, smaller this time. 

Sam let out a shaky breath. “Okay. Okay. Vegetarian kitsune exist, why not vegetarian werewolves,” he squeezed her hand. 

“Lycanthropes,” she corrected, “They made it very clear that their family preferred the term.” 

He nodded. Okay. Sure. Lycanthropes. “Wait- generations ? There can be born werewolves? Does it affect their physiology? Their transformed psychology? Does that change their ability to transmit the infection?” 

She grinned at him fondly, “You’re such a nerd.” 

They walked up to a brightly lit church with walls full of giant windows. 

“Is this the place?” 

Amy looked to the torn page in her hand, “Yeah, looks like. I thought we’d be going to their house, but Bess did say that her dad was a pastor.” 

Opening the heavy church door brought them face to face with not only Bess, but a dozen or so other individuals peaking curiously at them. 

“You made it!” A voice squealed before Amy was pelted by a blurred blonde mass, “I’m so glad you could come. Sorry about everyone showing up, but they were all so curious! And you must be Sam!” The petite girl from the library extended a hand at him, “I’m Bess! I’m so excited to meet you! Thank you both for coming. I hope it’s okay that the whole pack was here, but they really wouldn’t take it from me that you might not welcome so many of us meeting you at once. I tried to get some of them to stay home!” 

The girl barely seemed to breathe between sentences. Sam extended a hand to meet hers and put on his most charming smile, “No worries. I’m happy to meet any friend of Amy’s. And your family.” 

During the exchange, Tall Teen from the library had approached them. “I’m Charlie. Nice to meet you Sam,” he nodded with a wry grin, “Nice to see you again, Amy. I’d like to say the pack isn’t normally this nosy, but that’d be a lie. Last time Cousin Jobah brought a wraith over to visit there was more warning and the welcome wagon was even worse.” 

Sam and Amy were introduced to all the congregation who were able to come. In the whirlwind of introductions, Sam logged away as many names as possible.  

After the initial pleasantries were completed, Bess led them to sit in a small dining room. Amy and Sam took seats next to each other at the table with Bess, Charlie, Bess’s father, and a couple of cousins. The rest of the pack mingling about the room, their curious eyes studying Sam and Amy as much as possible while trying to remain polite. 

“I’m sorry if we come across as a little overbearing,” Bess’s father, Jim, apologized, “It’s always exciting to have new people in town who we can be ourselves around.” 

Jim’s eyes were warm and kind. Sam decided he liked the man instantly, lycanthrope or no. Before he could form a response to the pack leader, however, Jim’s wife, Joy, hefted a platter of chocolate-chip cookies and a pitcher of lemonade into the room.  

“I hope you guys are able to eat cookies and lemonade!” she smiled, setting the refreshments on the table, “Having a couple of kitsune over is a new experience for us, and I’m afraid I’m not the most familiar with you all’s dietary restrictions.” 

Sam felt himself grow tense at Joys words and shared a look with an equally rigid Amy. Understanding passed through them. Amy assumed at the library that the others knew he was human and she hadn’t told them outright.  

“Kitsune need to supplement their diet, but we’re able to enjoy standard human food as well,” Amy sidestepped the misunderstanding, leaving Sam to decide whether or not to tell the pack his species. 

Amy said this pack didn’t hurt humans. Would they be as accepting of a human who knew what they were? Living with another type of non-human had to count for something, right?  

Sam cleared his throat, “And uh- I’m a run-of-the-mill human, so no worries there.” 

Sam kept his facial expression as nonchalant as possible while he watched the pack members’ reactions. While some of the members had frozen at the admission, it didn’t appear as if anyone had hostile intentions. 

Reverend Jim didn’t seem phased in the slightest, “I’m glad you’ll both be able to enjoy them, then! Joy makes some of the best cookies in the county.” 

An older member, Pauline, maybe?  Sam noted, stood up abruptly and left. 

Jim nodded his head at the door the lycanthrope had fled through, “Sorry about that. Some of the congregation is a little stuck in the old ways. But it doesn’t matter what you are here- it’s who you are.” 

Sam allowed himself to relax more fully at the pack leader’s reassurance and to reach for a cookie. They were still warm, and oh so soft. Jim wasn’t just boasting when he said his wife could make a good cookie. 

Small talk was pleasant for a time, but it wasn’t long before Sam and Amy were asked questions they hadn’t prepared an answer for. 

“Where are your parents?” Joy asked, pouring more lemonade into Amy’s glass, “They would’ve been welcome to join us as well, of course.” 

A questioning look from Amy, What should we tell them?   

Was met with an answering shrug from Sam, I don’t think it matters.   

What were a pack of lycanthropes going to do? Call CPS? Amy and Sam were better off together than anywhere else and the government couldn’t provide for Amy’s needs. 

“I’m afraid my mother passed away,” Amy answered aloud, “It’s just us.” 

“Oh, no!” Bess broke in, throwing a sympathetic glance to Amy, “What about you, Sam?” 

He shook his head.  Best to avoid that one if possible . 

“Was it hunters?” Bess questioned, looking between the two of them with wide eyes. 

Sam felt his mouth go dry. Shit. How were they supposed to explain that? 

“Bess!” Her father hissed, his warm face pulled into a stern expression, “You can’t ask questions like that.” 

But Bess continued on, “It’s okay. You’re in like company. My mom was killed by a hunter when I was a baby,” she threw a sympathetic look at Sam and he would have sworn his heart had stopped if his pulse weren’t thundering in his ears, “They don’t always get what they’re aiming for and a lot of innocents can get caught in the crossfire. You don’t have to talk about it.” 

Bess’s voice sounded like it was coming from underwater. Sam’s pulse thudded hard in his veins, and a cold sweat broke out on his skin. 

Here they were, this pack who didn’t want to kill humans. This girl his age who lost a mother to people like Sam and his family. How many innocents had his research helped kill? How many people thought of hunters- of the Winchesters  in the same way that the Winchesters thought of the thing that killed his mom?  

These were people, good  people, regardless of their species who had suffered a loss because hunters like Sam and his family killed anything supernatural without bothering to figure out if it was evil. Bess’s mother. Jim’s first wife. Dead at the hands of people like Sam. 

Sam was dimly aware of Amy sliding her hand into his. His eyes searched for hers, and yet Amy looked even more lost than Sam. 

Hunters were  coming for Amy and her mother, but  Amy  killed her instead . Sam realized Amy might be struggling with thoughts of her own and swallowed back his own panicked realizations. Only one of them can freak out at a time. And Amy’s the one whose mother died,  he thought, as he tried to shove his own emotions to the back of his mind. 

“It’s complicated,” Sam breathed out. 

Amy squeezed his hand in gratitude. As if he was going to air Amy’s dirty laundry in front of them . 

He’d known that his family would kill Amy if they knew she existed. Yet because she was alive and standing next to him, because he didn’t have tangible proof  of hunters killing the innocent it hadn’t seemed real. It had been abstract. It should not have felt like such a surprise that it had happened, and yet it was. 

Sam could keep his mouth shut. The pack assumed his family were innocents caught in the crossfire. If he didn’t say anything he would be safe. He didn’t need  to say anything; they thought he didn’t want to talk about the traumatic death of his family. 

And yet. He’d done people just like this a great disservice by helping his dad and his brother. 

Keeping his mouth shut wouldn’t help him make things right, and it wouldn’t bring him atonement.  

He took a deep breath and tried to think though the consequences of doing the right thing. No matter how badly they took the truth, they wouldn’t hurt Amy, he was sure.

Reverend Jim attempted to fill the silence, “I’m very sorry about that. My daughter-” 

“My family were the hunters,” Sam interrupted. He squeezed Amy’s hand and made himself meet Bess’s eyes, “My family were the hunters, and I couldn’t do it anymore so me and Amy ran away.” Amy’s grip tightened to the point where it was almost painful. 

Several emotions passed over Bess’s face: shock, pain, sadness. And then finally, “That is so…  romantic!  Households with an ancient grudge-enemies by birth- and you found each other! It’s just like Romeo and Juliet!” 

Sam blinked at her in shock. That was… not what he had expected at all. But Bess was more optimistic and bubbly than anyone had a right to be. He forced himself to look at Reverend Jim. 

The lycanthrope’s eyes were closed, his face twisted in pain. Sam took courage from the set of the Reverend’s shoulders which screamed ‘injured’ and not ‘aggressive’.  

Bess was still talking, but Sam couldn’t absorb anything she said. He held his breath and waited for the pack leader to open his eyes. 

I’m sorry, he thought at the man. I’m so sorry .  

Jim opened watery eyes and met Sam’s. His nod and smile were almost warm, “Here it’s who you are that counts,” he reiterated, his eyes swept the room, meeting the rest of his pack members’ eyes, “And it doesn’t sound like Sam’s much of a hunter to me.” 

Months ago, Sam would’ve thought of that as an insult. John’s son, but not hunter enough, not strong enough, not  Dean  enough. Now the statement filled him with relief. 

He gave a grateful smile to Jim. 

Restarting the conversation was tense, but things were almost back to normal when it was time to leave. 

After goodbyes to Bess, Charlie, and the pack, the Reverend pulled Amy and Sam aside. “You’re  both so young to be out on your own. I’d like to offer you both a place here with the pack. Joy and I have the space to take you both in. You’d be safe, you could go to school here or continue your homeschooling, whichever you prefer. You could have a stable home.” 

Sam wanted to say yes. God he wanted to say yes. But there was only one answer he could give. 

“Thank you for your offer. It’s very generous of you, but I can’t. Too many hunters know me, and if any of them ever passed though, taking me in would put a huge target on your back. It’s not safe.” 

“And I go where Sam goes,” Amy pressed a shoulder to his side to punctuate the statement. 

“At least think about it,” The Reverend smiled at them, “You’re both trying to do the right thing and be good people. You shouldn’t be punished for that.” 

Sam felt a rush of gratitude to the man. “We’ll think about it,” Sam lied. No one could pay him enough to stay with this man and put his family at risk of further harm. 

“And if you’re still in town on Sunday, come over for the morning service! We’ll have more cookies after.” 

Sam and Amy smiled and nodded. Now that  was something he could agree to.

Back in the hotel, after mulling it over for a few hours, Sam looked to Amy, “You know, you could stay here and be safe with the Lycanthropes.” 

Her head whipped over from the opposite bed, “No. I’m going where you go.” 

“No one in the hunting community knows you,” Sam continued, “You wouldn’t be bringing any extra danger to the pack and they could help keep  you  safe as well.” 

“Are you trying  to get rid of me? Do you not want me with you anymore?” 

“I just want to see you safe. You could have a life here. There’s already a community of non-humans in place. Bess would love having you live with her and her parents. And Charlie- well it seems like he really likes you. You could have more with him than you ever could with me,” Sam forced his features into a gentle smile. 

“I can’t believe  you!” Amy snarled at him, “You can’t just pawn me off to the first convenient group we meet! Are you- are you  jealous  of Charlie? Or- If you don’t want to be with me, you don’t have to pretend, but you can’t just-” she cut off, unable to continue, clawed fist punching into her bed. 

“That’s not what I meant!” Sam assured, “I love travelling with you- I love being with you! But. My family history makes it impossible to settle anywhere. And you heard what hunters do to good people like the Myers Pack. They can never catch you with me. There’s already a group of people here who are  better  for you than me. They’re better equipped to  help  you than I am. I don’t want to- I can come visit, if you still want me to, I mean. I can come still see you, but I can make sure you have the support you need. I’m just a human, but these people-” 

“Sam Winchester,” she interrupted, moving to sit beside him, “When we first met, you were so worried about being a freak. Are you telling me that right now you’re worried you aren’t enough  of a freak for me?” She looked at him incredulously. 

He felt a blush warm his cheeks, “Well, when you put it like that it sounds- I'm just worried that my past will keep following us, and I think you could get more from life here.” 

“Maybe that’s true,” she allowed, and Sam felt his heart sink before she continued, “But so what?” 

Sam blinked at her in confusion. 

“So we’ve got to run from the past a little, and so there’s a lot to be gained from life here. I still want to be with  you . I go where you go,” she eyed him suspiciously, “As long as you aren’t trying to actually get rid of me?” 

“No, no!” He assured quickly, shaking his head. 

“Then stop with this. We’re in this together, you hear me?” 

Sam let out a shaky breath and smiled, “Yeah. Together.” 

Chapter Text

Tallahassee 2000  

They’d been so good. Or maybe they had just been lucky. Nearly 2 years of credit card scams, breaking and entering into funeral parlors, and stealing cars and the thing that got them caught was an underage bar curfew.  

Amy had gone to the bar to watch Sam hustle, but she hadn’t even tried to drink any alcohol. Even though she was older than Sam, no one ever questioned Sam’s age anymore. Height, it seemed, made everyone assume you were older than you actually were. 

Amy caught Sam's eyes from across the room as she was escorted from the bar, and shook her head at his widening gaze.

She'd be fine.

At first, the police were patient with her.  Just tell us the names of your parents,  they’d insisted.  They need to know what you’ve been up to, but you didn’t drink anything. You won’t be in any trouble if you cooperate with us. They can come pick you up . When Amy wouldn’t share the names of her parents with them, they ran her ID.

When the name on it came up fake, they began to worry that Amy was a runaway. 

Amy was 18 years old! If they found out who she actually was, no one could try and send her back anywhere.

Sam, however, was still only 17, and if they found out there was any link between the two of them? Well. Best case scenario, Sam would be taken by CPS. Worst case scenario, they’d get ahold of the Winchesters, and a pack of hunters would descend upon them. 

But they couldn't keep an officer with her forever, and nowhere could keep Amy anywhere for long. She'd been living with a Winchester for two years, after all, and he'd made sure she knew how to survive.

It didn't hurt that she could elongate and harden her fingernails into some pretty good lockpicks.

Sam paced the motel floor and watched the minutes tick by on the clock as he waited for Amy. She couldn't have been at the station for more than an hour or two, but if it took too long, he would find a way to get her out on his own. He was sure that there was a good way to get her out. Maybe if he-

There was a knock on the motel door, and Sam peeped through the door's spyhole to make sure that it wasn't the cops. Amy stood on the other side, bouncing in place, anxiously. Sam flung the door open, and she fell into his arms. He pulled her in tight and let the door close behind them.

"Any problems getting out?" Sam asked into her hairline.

She shook her head, "No, but I can't be seen in this town by the cops again. We should probably pack up and head out."

Sam placed a kiss to her forehead and grabbed two already packed duffles, "Done, and done."

Three towns over, after switching cars once, Amy turned the music down on the stolen car's radio, "Hey, Sam?"

"Hmm?" Sam asked, peeking at Amy from the corner of his eye.

"Do you think- do you think when you're 18 we can settle down some place permanent?"

Sam smiled, and they began to plan.

Sam at 17, just didn't look like he had when he'd just turned 15. After gaining about a foot and a half of height and losing the baby fat in his face, Sam was pretty confident that no one in the hunting community except for maybe his family themselves would recognize him anymore. As soon as he turned 18, they could find somewhere semi-permanent until they had solid plans in place.

Amy hadn’t been as diligent about homeschooling as Sam, but they’d be finishing about the same time. 

In May, only a half a year away, Sam would be eighteen and he and Amy would both be done with high school. Sam knew he wanted to go to college. He thought he might like to be a lawyer, or a CPA. Both sounded like pretty good jobs to Sam. Amy thought she might want to go to college too. She liked the idea of being a mortician.

Sam thought it was a lovely plan. He could get a nice, safe job to provide a stable life for himself and Amy. Amy could get a job that gave her the most access to the food she needed. Sam knew his life would never be normal, but he’d given up on that idea a long time ago. Normalish will be good enough. More than that, it’d be perfect. He loved Amy, and he knew that any life they built together was the only kind of life that he wanted.

Davenport June 2001  

Sam had been accepted to Stanford, Harvard, and Brown. Amy had been accepted to Mount Ida, near Harvard. Stanford would’ve been Sam's fist choice, but Amy’s nearest option for a college that had a program for her would've been in San Francisco, and the amount of daily travel would been difficult for them both.

Stanford had quickly and readily offered Sam a full-ride, and Sam hoped that Harvard would offer him some help as well.

Sam was nervous about putting any debt in his own name.

He doubted that his dad and Dean thought that he was alive after all this time, and he knew they wouldn’t be combing University attendance lists for his name, but if he took out loans, all they’d have to do is run his credit info to find out about school.

What if they were still looking for him? Sam and Amy hadn’t made it this far by being dumb.

He missed Dean. But he needed to protect Amy.

Sam was 18 now, and no one could make him go back, but it wasn't about him anymore. 

He really needed a scholarship. 

Boston September 2001  

It wasn’t quite Cambridge. Or Newton. In fact, it was a pretty grungy, cramped apartment, technically still in South end Boston.  

But Sam was in heaven.

This. Finally.

A little over 3 years and he finally had what he was dreaming of when he ran away with Amy. 

Her program would allow her to eat without risk of being caught, even before she graduated. No need to move, no need to worry about leaving a trail or being found by hunters. 

The apartment was crappy, but it was home in the way that Sam had only ever had in the backseat of a car. They could stay there for 4 years, or 7 years to complete his JD at Harvard, or they could stay forever. Or they could leave as soon as he finished his undergrad, and he could get the JD at Stanford after all.

He could make more friends, join some clubs, hold a respectable job. Nomalish. More importantly, safe. Perfect. 

Boston June 2005  

He’d done it. He smiled as he climbed the stage to accept his diploma.

Sam had gradated in the top 10% of his class. He’d taken his LSATs his Junior year, and been accepted to Stanford Law to start upon completion of his Bachelor’s. Amy was applying to move her embalming license to California and was looking to apprentice under a mortician just outside of Palo Alto.

He wished that Dean could be there to see it. That he could tell Dean about everything he'd found since he left. He wished he could know that Dean and his dad were okay. Sam still thought about his brother often, and was a lot easier than it used to be.

Sam loved his family, even if he couldn't see them. Sam wished he could tell them he was sorry. Such things were silly dreams. Contact, as it had always been, was too risky. Besides, they would've moved on by now, it was all for the best. Everyone was happy, and life was good. The only part missing was his brother, but Sam knew that Dean could never accept Amy.

He smiled as he took his diploma and turned to exit the stage. He heard his name being cheered from his right.

Amy sat in the front of the guest seating. Bess, Jim, and Joy Myers sat beside her. Sam felt his grin widen. He hadn't known that they were going to come up for his graduation.

Amy must have invited them up as a surprise. He hoped they'd be staying the entire weekend. 

With any luck, they'd be celebrating two occasions.

Sam was planning on proposing to Amy the following night, the diner reservations had made, the ring sat heavy in his pocket, and the future was wide. 

Two Nights Later

Sam dreamed.

It was disjointed and confusing. He only got flashes of crying, and laughter, and yellow eyes.

He woke with a start, and felt Amy murmur a complaint from beside him.

It doesn’t matter. 

It was just a dream.

Sam smiled and curled around the sleeping form beside him.

It was just a dream, and Amy had said yes. 

Chapter Text

Palo Alto July 3rd 2005  

A new home in an apartment cleaner and nicer than the one left behind in Boston. It didn't feel like home yet, but it did feel like progress.  

Sam opened a large box, labeled KITCHEN in Sharpie, and began sorting. 

Sam wanted to get as much unpacking and setup done as he could while Amy was at work. Life was definitely looking up. Sam was excited for school to start in the fall. A beautiful apartment, a beautiful life spent with a beautiful fiancée. Sam was getting it all.  

Sam didn’t think life could be any better. He and Amy had carved out a pretty good place for themselves. Sam grinned and tucked a frying pan away under the stove.  

Sam and Amy would be married as soon as the marriage license went through. When Sam had proposed, he thought that they might plan for a year. Maybe they’d have a small wedding in Wisconsin, in Reverend Jim’s church. 

Amy had said she didn’t want to wait that long. She didn’t need a big ceremony or a fancy dress, all she wanted was to be with Sam.  

That was more than alright with him. 

He liked the idea of a courthouse wedding.  

He and Amy had been dating since he was 15, there was nothing hasty or reckless about wanting to marry her.  He was sure that she was the only woman for him. But the idea of a courthouse wedding had all of the connotations of impulsive, rash decisions. 

It reminded Sam of where their journey started. One barely considered choice, one impulsive decision, and Sam’s life had been completely changed for the better. 

Sam ripped another box open and began to sort. 

He and Amy would be married in a few days. A week, tops. Life was so good. So close to perfect. 

Nearly  perfect. If only the nightmares would stop. 

Sam had them almost every night.  

None of them ever lasted long enough to make sense, and they never seemed to have anything to do with him. The only thing consistent about them were the flashes of yellow eyes.  

Were the dreams his mind’s way of expressing his nerves? Was it from fear that everything would fall apart? That things were  too  good to be true? How could getting what you wanted make anyone so stressed?  

Sam didn’t even know what he was nervous  of.  Amy had been with him for seven years. She wasn’t going to leave him. He  knew  that. Hunters hadn’t found them in the three years that they were breaking into funeral parlors and while Sam still looked like the kid who had run away from his family. They had been safe the entire four years they stayed in one place and attended university out East. Nothing was going to hurt them. Amy was safe. 

No matter how hard he tried to rationalize the feeling away, Sam was nervous. 

But it was fine. Sam just needed to accept that life was good. 

He shouldn’t focus on his nervousness so hard. He was just going to make his dreams worse. 

With a smile and a shake of his head, he went back to unpacking.

Palo Alto July 15th 2005

Sam heard keys jangling at the door, and turned his head with a smile.

"Hey, Babe!" Sam called as the door opened, "How was work?"

"It was really good!" Amy smiled, stepping out of her shoes and heading into the living room to flop down beside Sam on the couch.

Amy proceeded to tell Sam about her day, and her coworkers, but Sam couldn't help but focus on her face more than her words. Her eyes sparkled, hands gestures punctuating her story throughout its entirety. Sam loved seeing her so happy. They were so lucky. Life was so good.

Amy poked him in the chest and eyed him suspiciously, "Are you listening to me?"

"Of course!" Sam half-lied.

"Sure you were," Amy snorted a laugh, "What were you thinking about?"

Sam smiled, "My beautiful wife, and how lucky I am to have her in my life."

She pressed a quick kiss to his lips, "And don't you forget it!"

"I'm sorry for spacing out on you," Sam apologized, "What were you saying?"

"I was just saying that Mimi just found out that she was pregnant," Amy trailed off and looked at Sam expectantly.

It was clear that Amy wanted Sam to say something, but he wasn't sure what it was. Normally he was so good at picking up on what she was implying, "Oh, that's interesting."

But Amy was still looking at him. Was Amy. . . trying to bring up the topic of children of their own? They'd talked about having kids one day before, of course, but they'd never really discussed when or talked about it with any real seriousness. Maybe now that they were officially married, she wanted an actual plan.

"Children are good," Sam  continued, "Is she excited?"

"Yeah," she smiled at him, "She's really excited, and I was thinking. You know, we're married now, and I know you're going to have a lot on your plate with school for the next few years, but- I mean, I really lucked out with this job. Pay and benefits are great, and I know everything's still so new, but we're finally in a good position! We're finally at the point where- I mean, we could give a kid the kind of stability that we never had growing up! And-"

Was Amy suggesting they start trying to have a child now? Sam wanted to build a family. He loved the idea of being a dad, But was it a good time? His first year of law school was supposed to be the hardest. Everyone said so. It was bound to be crazy! Maybe the best time would be as soon as he graduated. But then again, depending on where he ended up working, trying for a baby right after starting a new job might be even worse timing.

Amy was looking at him expectantly, hopeful smile on her face. Sam really wanted to be a dad. He wanted to build the best life possible with Amy. Life was already so good! But it would be even better if they were able to start a family.

If they started trying for a baby, even if they were successful early on, it would be another nine months before a baby was due. His first year of school would be over by the time a baby was actually born. Amy's job was a good find, and they were in a much more stable position than they'd ever been in before. Maybe it did make sense to start trying now.

And Sam did want it, he realized. Even if it would be a little hard balancing school with a kid at home, Sam wanted a child.

Assuming that trying right away was what Amy was getting at.

"We are at a good point to start planning for a baby," Sam admitted, smiling at his wife.

Amy grinned and tucked herself into Sam's side, discussion beginning in earnest.

Palo Alto August 1st 2005

A man with dark hair and dark eyes sat on the floor of his bedroom, starting wide-eyed at his hands. Static electricity crackled between his fingers.

Flash. Ugly yellow eyes.

"Sam."

A different man with light brown hair sat curled in on himself sobbing in a garage, bruising obvious on his legs, one arm protectively against his chest as if it too were injured. 

Flash. Yellow eyes.

"Sam."

A blonde woman with green eyes, giggling in bed, wrapped around a smaller girl with a black pixie cut and sparkling eyes. 

Flash. Yellow.

"Sam."

A soldier with dark skin and eyes stood in a sea of sand, feet spread wide, a look of determination on his face.

Flash.

"Sam."

Sam jerked awake, breathing shallow and heavy, and sat up.

Amy grumbled sleepily from beside him and muttered something unintelligible.

Sam looked at the alarm clock on the bedside table. 6:50. He had almost made it all the way through the night, and there was no point in going back to bed now. The alarm would be going off in ten minutes anyways.

Breeep. Breeep. Breeep.

Amy slapped a hand out to shut the alarm off and turned around in bed to feel for her husband.

No Sam.

She sat up with a sigh. The bed felt warm, so hopefully he hadn't been awake and up for too long. She knew that he hadn't been sleeping will since they had moved. She was pretty sure that his poor sleep habits had started back in Boston, but Sam was too uncomplaining to talk about it, even when Amy asked.

She slipped out of bed and got dressed for the day before heading out to find Sam.

She followed the smell of freshly brewed coffee and found him hunched over a book at the kitchen table. What to Expect When You're Expecting, clutched in his hands as he turned the page.

A warm, fuzzy feeling burned in her chest. Her goof-ball husband. She was so lucky to have him, "Hey, Sam. Whatcha reading?"

Sam grinned up at her guiltily, dimples showing, but he didn't bother to hide the book, "Just doing some research."

Amy laughed, "I'm not pregnant yet!"  She'd only been off of her birth control a week-and-a-half. It would probably be months before they were pregnant. And Sam had already managed to find and begin reading books on the topic. He was such a nerd. But he was her nerd.

Sam shrugged, "You know me, I like to be prepared. I started coffee and toast should be ready-" The toaster let out a ding, "about now," Sam finished with a smile.

She pulled a piece out of the appliance and bit into it, "Thanks, Hun. I'm going to head in early today, but I should be home at a normal time. Don't forget! I'm having Sandy from across the hall over for dinner tonight."

Amy was happy to start socializing with some of the neighbors better. She and Sam had made some friends in Massachusetts, of course, but this was different. Even after Sam finished school, they planned to stay in California. This is where there jobs would be, where there lives would be, where everything would be. It was so nice to be able to start putting down permanent roots at last.

Sandy had said her husband would be working late, so he wouldn't be able to make it, but Amy hoped that when he and Sam eventually met, he might be a friend for her husband. Sam was charismatic, charming, and likeable, but he rarely tried to make close connections with anyone. Outside of herself and the Myers lycanthropes, Amy wasn't sure there was anyone Sam had truly let his guard down around.

Amy knew that Sam had a hard time connecting with others. She knew that it came from feeling like he couldn't share some parts of himself, or his childhood, with other people. And she understood that. Hell, she couldn't tell any of her friends what her species was. But she hoped that with the knowledge that they they were settling down for good, Sam might be able to relax enough to let others in.

Sam nodded and smiled, "I remember. Have a good day at work, Babe."

She grinned and leaned in to kiss him, "You look tired, you should try and get a nap in before I get home!"

"I'll try," he promised.

With a smile and a wave, Amy left for the day, taking a thermos of coffee with her.

Life was so good. She just hoped that Sam would start sleeping better soon.

Amy had a totally and completely unremarkable day.

Work was good, but nothing out of the ordinary happened. Her coworkers were fine, and she was fine.

The day passed uneventfully, her shift ended, and she ordered food to take home. Sandy had mentioned that a place down the street from their apartment block had excellent Thai food, and it was easier to pick up food after a day at work than to try and make something at home.

Before she knew it, Amy was sitting down at the table with Sandy and Sam making small-talk.

"Book lists should be out soon," Sam said with a smile, "And I'm excited to get started studying."

Sandy nodded, "That's so interesting! Do you have any idea what type of law you're interested in?"

"I'm really interested in litigation and criminal justice," Sam shrugged, "I think I might like to do something with criminal prosecution, but I've got some time before I have to decide for sure."

"And how about you, Amy?" Sandy asked, "How are you liking the job?"

"It's great," Amy gushed, "My coworkers are so friendly, and I'm getting more and more comfortable." And the constant source of food was a nice bonus, "I'm really enjoying the area! Sam and I were thinking about going to the beach this weekend, and I think that will be nice."

"Frank and I never get out to the beach enough, but this is a great area to live if you love the ocean," Sandy agreed.

"What about you?" Sam asked, looking to Sandy, "Do you have any big plans for the weekend? You and your husband would be welcome to join us if you can make it."

She let out a sigh before leveling a glance between Sam and Amy, "We've got an exterminator coming Saturday, and while they said that someone would be over in the morning, you can never trust that people will actually be on time, you know what I mean?"

Amy looked over to Sam. Sandy lived in the same building as them, just across the hall. Amy hadn't seen anything in the apartment since they moved in, and she was pretty sure that the landlord hired an exterminator to come monthly to keep everything pest free. But when Sam met her eyes, he looked equally confused. Maybe Sandy just didn't want to come with them after all.

"We keep the apartment very clean," Sandy assured, misreading the look that had passed between Amy and Sam, "There aren't any bugs or anything. We just have a mouse! We tried setting traps, but we can't ever seem to find it. It just scratches in the walls all night."

Amy let herself relax. She supposed that Sandy was probably telling the truth. It didn't sound like she was making up anything to avoid them, anyways.

Sam, on the other hand, appeared to grow more tense, "You haven't seen any sign of it at all? It hasn't gotten into any food or into the trash? It's just scratching in the walls?"

Sandy shot Sam an odd look, "No, I suppose not. It's just the scratching. We've been very careful about leaving anything out."

Sam smiled, and Amy instantly was set on edge. That was one of Sam's fake smiles. One of Sam's 'meant-to-disarm' smiles. This was the charming grin Sam gave before he hustled every dollar out of a drunk man's wallet, and then stole his car.

The next thing out of Sam's mouth would be a lie. Amy knew it like she knew that the sky was blue.

"Well, that's good then," Sam said.

. . .How was that a lie? What was going on? What had Amy missed?

Sandy relaxed, smiled and nodded, "Maybe next time you guys go out we could join you? Sort of a double-date!"

Amy forced a smile and a nod of her own, "That'd be great."

Small talk resumed, and Amy was almost able to fully relax. Almost.

The evening passed, and before too long, it was time for Sandy to go.

Amy and Sam waved goodbye at her as she left their apartment, promises to get together again soon exchanged between them, and then the door was shut tight.

"What in the heck was that about?" Amy asked, turning to look at her husband.

Sam looked at her with a sheepish expression, "Maybe it's nothing. Maybe it's just old instincts acting up, but don't go over to Sandy's place, okay? Only invite her out or over to our place?"

Amy furrowed her brows and looked at Sam in confusion, "Why? What's going on?"

"Like I said, maybe it's nothing," Sam hesitated, "But scratching in the walls is one of the strongest indicators of a malignant spirit. She didn't mention any weird smells, cold spots, electrical issues, so it really is probably nothing but my nerves. But please? For me? Don't go over there."

Amy considered him for a moment. It's not like she had made any plans to go over there already. And she cared a lot about keeping Sam from any more anxiety. He was already sleeping poorly enough the way things were.

"I promise," she placed a quick kiss on his lips, "I won't go over there unless the exterminator takes care of the problem and you give the green light."

"Thank you," Sam wrapped her in his arms and pulled her close, "I'm probably being overly cautious. I'm sure I'm being overly cautious, but it'll make me feel better."

Amy smiled and squeezed Sam tightly back. God she loved him.

"Hey Sam? You know something else that might us both feel better?" She asked, smiling up at him and waggling her eyebrows.

He burst into laughter, "You're horrible at that!" He wiggled his own eyebrows, "You gotta do it like this!"

Amy rolled her eyes fondly, but she was glad that she had managed to lighten the mood, "Less making fun of your wife, more coming with me to the bedroom!"

"Yes, ma'am!" Sam agreed, picking her up and carrying her to their room

Amy shrieked and squirmed and giggled at Sam's antics.

Life was good.

Palo Alto August 4th 2005

A man with dark hair and dark eyes sat on the floor of his bedroom, starting wide-eyed at his hands. Static electricity crackled between his fingers.

Flash. Ugly yellow eyes.

"Sam."

A different man with light brown hair sat curled in on himself sobbing in a garage, bruising obvious on his legs, one arm protectively against his chest as if it too were injured. 

Flash. Yellow  eyes.

"Sam."

Sam sat up and looked around. He was in his own bedroom, but Amy was no where to be found.

"Sam! It took you long enough to hear my call!" A voice complained from across the bedroom, "I've been trying to get ahold of you for months now!"

Sam's eyes snapped over to the sound. A man stood in the corner of the bedroom, yellow eyes and smile glinting, despite the darkness.

"I'm- I'm dreaming." Sam looked at his own hands and then back at the man, "Who are you? What is this?"

The man grinned wide, "I'm Azazel, and I have a bone to pick with you, Sammy Boy!"

A grimace found its way onto Sam's face at the horrible nickname, "What do you want?"

"I want what I've always wanted," the man's grin was too wide to be anything besides mocking, "And I need you to get back to hunting."

Sam scoffed, "Look, I don't know what's wrong with me, or why I'm having these dreams, but you're a figment of my imagination. I'm just going to lay back down, and you're going to disappear."

"You used to be my favorite," Azazel crooned, "But look at you! Look at this place," his eyes swept the room, "You've become. . . domesticated. You've gotten rusty! No, no, it can't be allowed to continue. We need to sharpen you back up!"

"I'm not going to start hunting again," Sam stated firmly, "Nothing can make me start hunting again."

"Not even your wife's continued safety? You wouldn't want Amy to come to the same ending as dear ol' Mommy Dearest, would you?" The monster raised his hand, and a ball of flame appeared in his palm, "I'm a big fan of fire, Sammy Boy. But you'd know that first hand, wouldn't you?"

Sam startled and took a step back. This dream was so much worse than his other dreams.

"You're not real."

"I am," Azazel smiled and stepped forward, "And if you want to keep your new little family in one piece, you're going to start hunting again. I've brought a hunt right to you! I basically walked it right through your front door. All you have to do is one little thing. Work. The. Hunt."

Sam shook his head. This was a seriously messed up dream. It wasn't real. He just had to wake up. Wake up.

Wake up.

"Wake up! Sam, wake up!"

Sam sat up with a gasp, eyes scanning the room. No one there. No one but him and Amy.

"Sam, are you okay?" Amy placed a hand on either side of Sam's face, "I know you haven't been sleeping well, but that seemed so much worse than normal."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you up," Sam rasped and took in a deep breath, trying to slow his heart rate.

Amy shook her head, "I'm not worried about that. I'm worried about you! You were thrashing like crazy. You looked like you were in pain!"

Sam did have a pounding headache. It felt like his skull was being split in half.

"I'm fine," he assured, "It was just a bad dream, but I'm okay."

"Do you need anything?"

Amy's eyes were wide with concern in the dark of their bedroom. Sam hated worrying her. He hated these nightmares. Life was so good, why did his dreams have to ruin it? Sam shook his head, "I'm fine."

She looked at him for a moment before stretching and sliding out of bed, "I'm making you tea."

He smiled fondly at her as she left the room. Maybe tea would help settle his nerves. He looked over at the alarm clock. 4:47. Yeah, they definitely needed a bit more sleep before waking up for the day.

Sam would drink a cup of tea, he would take some ibuprofen, and he'd go back to bed.

Everything was fine. His dreams were getting worse, but everything was fine.

He just needed to relax, and everything would be fine.

Palo Alto August 5th 2005

Sam had day bags packed, he had towels, sunblock, sunglasses, and a frisbee. He found a cooler, and it was clean and ready to be packed the next morning. He was looking forward to a day trip with Amy. They'd only lived in California for a little over a month, but living out on the west coast was about enjoying the west coast.

It was going to be a great day.

It was nearly time for Amy to get in from work. He'd doublecheck with her that there wasn't anything she thought they needed to add, and they'd be all set to go in the morning.

Sam heard the door open and smiled. Speak of the devil.

"Amy?" Sam called, "In here!"

"Sam!" Amy sounded anxious, and it instantly put Sam on edge.

"What's wrong?" he asked without preamble.

Amy flew into the room and clutched her hands tightly in front of herself, "What did you say are other signs of a malignant spirit? Besides scratching in the walls?"

That was not what Sam had been expecting. He looked at her cautiously, "Cold spots, weird smells, issues with electricity. And then there are more obvious signs: people getting hurt, things moving on their own, sometimes people can even see the spirit," he trailed off and examined her face closely, "Why?"

"I was talking to Sandy. She wanted to know if we were having any problems with our electricity! I guess she's thinking she's going to have to call an electrician or an HVAC guy along with the exterminator. Her lights keep flickering, and she said she was having issues with her air conditioner. But she didn't say anything about funny smells. Is it- could it just be a coincidence?" Amy looked at Sam hopefully.

Sam's heart sank. A flash of his most recent nightmare flashed through his mind. I've brought a hunt right to you! I basically walked it right through your front door. Sam shivered. Thinking that his nightmare had come true was silly. But it did sound like their neighbor was dealing with a ghost problem.

Sam sighed and shook his head, "I mean, it could be a coincidence, but that's pretty unlikely. My guess is that the place is haunted."

Amy shook her head, "But Sandy said she and Frank have lived here for three years! Why would a ghost start bothering them now? How does it work? What do we- do we do something?"

Sam didn't want to do anything. He hadn't done anything for a hunt since he was fifteen years old. He had got out of the life. He had left the life. He was about the furthest thing from a hunter that a person could be. He wasn't a hunter. He was just Sam.

"Like you said, they've been living there for three years. I'm sure they're safe. It's probably nothing to worry about. At the same time. . . definitely don't go over there, okay?" He looked to his wife, pleadingly.

She let out a shaky sigh and nodded, "Yeah, okay. I guess there's not much we could do if we didn't know for sure that it was haunted."

Sam felt bad for not investigating further, but it was fine. Everything would be fine. Sandy was fine.

"So," Sam began, gesturing to a large beach-bag, "Beach trip, tomorrow."

Palo Alto August 6th 2005

"Sam," A voice called.

"Sam! You're lucky that I gave you any sort of warning. I'm not going to wait much longer for you, Winchester. Take the hunt!"

Sam snapped awake, arms wrapped around his sleeping wife.

This dream wasn't as detailed as the last one that he'd had, but it was equally off putting. It wasn't real though. It couldn't be real. It just couldn't. Sam was seeing things that weren't there. He was overly concerned over nothing. He had gotten out of the life, and he was seeing hunts where there weren't any problems. He was imagining monsters and dangers. 

Everything was fine. He just needed to relax. Everything was fine.

Sam squeezed Amy closer to him, and noticed blue and red flickering against the wall. Over his shoulder, out the bedroom window, Sam could see the flashing of blue and red lights. What in the-?

Sam carefully untangled himself from his sleeping wife and made his way out of the bedroom and down the stairs. He wanted to see what was going on and make sure that everything was alright.

Sam stepped outside and joined a few of his neighbors just in time to see a figure strapped to a stretcher being loaded onto the back of an ambulance. A sobbing woman climbed in after the paramedics loading up the injured person. Was it just Sam, or did that look a lot like-

"The Strouts," One of the onlookers whispered to the person beside her, "Frank. His wife's Sandy. They say that it was an accident, but I also heard them say something about stab wounds!"

"Is he going to be okay?" Sam asked, stepping into the conversation.

The woman didn't look upset at being overheard at all. She looked almost gleeful, "They don't know!" She confided excitedly, "If you ask me, I'm not so sure they should be taking the wife in the ambulance as well! What if she tries to finish the job?"

What was wrong with this woman? How could anyone be so heartless about one of their neighbors being hurt. Sam nodded, and forced an appreciative smile onto his face, "Yeah, no. I hear you."

He had only met Sandy once, and he knew that humans could be the worst sort of monsters sometimes, but Sam knew that it hadn't been Sandy. He  knew that it wasn't an accident either.

He couldn't pretend anymore. He couldn't avoid what was happening around him anymore.

Things were not fine.

He couldn't hope that the dangers the yellow-eyed monster from his dream whispered about weren't real anymore. Sam had met Sandy. He had liked her. Amy wanted to be friends with her.

He had tried to convince himself that his neighbors were safe, and he'd been proven wrong.

He wouldn't assume that he or Amy were safe anymore.

He couldn't relax.

He had to act.

Amy awoke to an empty bed with a sigh.

It's not that she was surprised.

She would've been more surprised if she'd woken up to find Sam still sleeping beside her. But she had hoped. Maybe the beach trip would help Sam relax. He could use a nap in the sun, the roar of the ocean lulling him to sleep, more than anyone she knew.

She rolled out of bed to search for her husband. She wondered if Sam would be ready to go already. She knew that Sam had gotten most everything ready the night before. Amy thought that she could be quick about getting ready. There were a few things that she'd need to get done, but she didn't want to keep Sam waiting too-

Her thoughts froze as she took in the sight before her.

Sam sat on the kitchen floor, surrounded by half of their spice cabinet. He had a cast-iron skillet on his lap, and a silver hunting knife in his hand.

She hadn't seem Sam hold that knife since the day the decided to run away from it all. She didn't even know he still had that knife.

Amy knew that Sam hadn't been sleeping well, but this was so much worse than she'd thought.

"Sam, honey?"

Sam started, eyes darting to meet hers. He looked wild, and dangerous. Less human than Amy herself.

"Sam, are you okay?"

He blinked and looked around at his spread on the kitchen floor, "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I think we might need to take a rain-check on the beach day though."

Amy was confused, "Why are-?" She trailed off. She didn't even know how to ask what she wanted to know. Why was Sam surrounded by cooking supplies and a hunting knife? Why wasn't a beach day a good idea anymore? Was there anything that she could do to help? Sam kept saying that he was okay, but it was becoming more and more obvious that Sam was not okay.

"Frank is in the hospital," Sam said shortly, "An ambulance carted him and Sandy out a few hours ago."

Amy didn't know what she was expecting Sam to say, but it wasn't that. "Are they okay? What happened?!"

Sam shrugged from his spot on the floor, "I think that Frank was hurt but whatever is haunting their apartment. I should've looked into it sooner, but I didn't want to deal with it. Now Frank's hurt."

"Oh, Sam," Amy knelt on the floor beside her husband, "You didn't know. At least, not for sure. And it's not your job anymore to go chasing after anything that might potentially have anything to do with the supernatural. You don't- you don't have to do this even now! I like our neighbors, but they aren't your responsibility."

Amy didn't care if it was uncaring of her to not encourage Sam to try and protect their neighbors. She didn't even care that she generally liked the couple across the hall.

Sam was already suffering. And she would always put Sam first.

He was already having nightmares, and he was already stressed. He didn't deserve any additional guilt, "You didn't know, and even if you had, you didn't need to do anything about it. You don't need to do anything about it."

Sam shot her a tired smile, "If only it were that easy."

"It can be!" she reached out to cup Sam's cheek, "You don't owe anyone anything. If you don't want to go after the ghost, don't go after the ghost."

"You know I've been having nightmares for a while now. The other day- well the other day I had a really strange one. There was a man- he wasn't human. His eyes! But the man, he said- he told me, that he would be bringing a hunt to me!" Sam's gaze met hers, steady and firm, "And he told me that if I didn't do the job he'd hurt my family. He'd hurt you! And I thought at first that it was just a nightmare. That it was just one more messed up thing and-"

Sam shook his head.

"Well maybe it was," Amy suggested, "maybe it was  just a dream. It could be a coincidence."

"No. I had another dream last night. It was just the man's voice, but it was the same one again. And then Frank got hurt. It's real," Sam took a shuddering breath, "I tried convincing myself that it wasn't, but I just know that it is, and I can't risk losing you. I have to do the hunt. It's just one job."

Amy's pulse quickened as Sam explained his reasoning.

Oh, God. Sam. If he said that he thought a non-human was reaching out to him through dreams, she believed it. This was so much worse than just a few nightmares. And Sam. He was so happy to be done with hunting. So proud to have a life that was just theirs. This situation was messed up. This whole thing felt like a setup to hurt her husband in the worst way possible. There was only one part that she didn't understand, "Why would something supernatural want another human hunting?"

"I don't-" Sam made a confused sound, and let out a laugh just on the edge of hysterical, "He said that I used to be his favorite, but that I'd gotten too rusty. He said he needed to get me sharp again? But Amy, its worse than that! He said he'd hurt you in the same way as my mom. I really think this thing is the same thing that killed my mom! I don't know what he means by me being his favorite. I don't know anything. I don't understand anything."

Amy had no idea what that meant, but she was pretty sure she wouldn't like the answer. She doubted any guess that she made about the thing's plans would be close to correct. Instead she squared he shoulders, looked Sam in the eyes and said the only thing that she could, "Okay. We don't have all of the answers right now, but that's okay. Whatever it is, we'll figure it out and we'll take care of it. We'll get through this together. Just like always."

Sam shot her a grateful smile, and laced his fingers through hers, "Together."

Palo Alto August 8th 2005

Amy anxiously fiddled with the salt-filled Ziploc in her hoodie pocket.

This was so not what Amy had in mind when they had said that they were in this together. A loud thump came from the other end of the apartment, and Amy clapped her hands loudly to try and distract from the commotion, "Well, I think we need to do something to get your mind off of it!"

Why on earth was she on distraction duty again?

Sandy refocused her attention on Amy and away from the sounds coming from the other room, "I'm just not sure. They told me that he's out of danger, and I know that it should make me feel better, but how can I make plans with friends like normal? How can I just-?" Sandy shook her head, "It was horrible that night. And now without him here, I'm just so scared that-" she stopped.

They had done the research together. The apartment complex wasn't very old, and only two other people had lived in Sandy and Frank's apartment before they moved in. Out of the previous tenants, only one had passed away, but it wasn't even inside of the apartment. It had been a open and shut car accident. He had been 27 when he passed, and his family'd had him cremated.

Sam said if there weren't any remains or objects to burn, they'd have to bless the house.

And somehow it had become Amy's job to get them invited into Sandy's apartment and to distract her while Sam placed blessing bags in her vents.

Amy was the one with enhanced strength! Amy was the one who could only be killed if her heart were destroyed.

But Sam had looked at her with his giant puppy-dog eyes and given her a look. And her heart had melted. She was very much regretting having given in.

"Focusing on it is just going to make you feel worse. Be there for Frank as much as you can, but make sure you aren't hurting yourself with worry the rest of the time. Frank wouldn't want that.  He's going to be okay, you don't need to be afraid."

"That's not why I'm scared," Sandy said, but then stopped herself, "That is to say-"

"What do you mean?" Amy interrupted. Did Sandy not feel safe in the house? Was she noticing signs of the ghost?

"Oh, it's nothing. It's crazy," she answered, with a dismissive shake of her head.

"You can tell me," Amy pressed.

Sandy looked at her sheepishly, "The night that Frank got hurt. I was there, and they say that sometimes when you see something traumatic you don't remember it correctly. I know that it's not real, but I thought-"

Sam burst in from the other room and slammed the door behind him, holding it closed, "Bit of a problem! Blessing bags didn't help."

A loud thud raddled the door to the point where Amy wasn't sure it would stay upright. 

Sam grunted with the effort of keeping the door shut, "And another problem. It's not the guy we thought it was."

Sandy was gasping and looking between the two of them in shock when a semi-transparent woman appeared in front of her.

The woman's hair was a stringy blonde perm. Her too colorful outfit and bright legwarmers emphasized the the horrible eerie greyness of her skin.

Without thinking, Amy reached back into her hoodie pocket and grabbed a handful of kitchen salt. She threw it at the ghost and it fizzled out of view.

She looked over at her husband, "Well what do we do now then?"

Sam abandoned the door he'd been holding to stand in front of Sandy, who had lowered herself to her knees, "Sandy, look at me!"

Sandy's eyes, wide in fear, met Sam's. She looked lost, and dazed, and terrified.

"Sandy, listen. Is there anything you bought, anything at all, right before you got the mouse in your walls? A new piece of furniture, an antique dish set, anything from any sort of second-hand store."

She blinked up at him in confusion for a moment before bringing her hand to her throat, "I- Frank got me a new necklace. A vintage locket. It doesn't open, but it was just so pretty and-"

"Give it to me," Sam stuck his hand out.

And was promptly thrown against the nearest wall.

Sandy's furniture began to raise off of the ground as Sam was struck by a couch.

"What do I do?" Amy shouted, ripping the locket from Sandy's neck. She had to keep Sam safe. She had to make things okay. She could throw it out the window? Would that make the invisible force let go of her husband, or would that make things worse?

"Find something to smash the locket open," Sam grunted from his position on the wall, using his arms to cover his face as he was pelted with a table lamp, "Salt and burn whatever's inside!"

Screw finding something. 

Amy elongated her fingernails into claws and struck the side of the locket with all of her strength. The force of the blow dented Sandy's floor, but it did crack the locket. Amy struck the locket again and was rewarded with a hole large enough to see inside. A stringy blonde curl of hair.

Sam dropped from the wall, and the ghost appeared before Amy. She stuffed salt from her pocket into the jewelry as quickly as she could, but there wouldn't be enough time before the ghost got to her.

Sam threw a handful of his own salt at the ghost and chucked a glass bowl to Amy. It appeared as though it had been holding potpourri before the dead woman had decided to trash Sandy's apartment.

Amy put the locket in the bowl and dumped her remaining salt in with. Sam strode forward and poured lighter fluid into the mix.

The dead woman appeared one more time, arms outstretched in an attempt to grab Sam when he dropped a lighter into the bowl.

The ghost lit fire the same time as the locket and burned away with a horrible screech and a billow of ash.

Amy smiled to her husband, and he grinned back at her. They had did it. They were safe, the ghost was defeated, and everything was fine again.

"What the fuck?" Sandy said from her spot on the floor.

The grin wiped itself from Amy's face as she looked down at her own clawed hands, her husband's bruised face, and the burning locket between them.

"Uh?" Sam aimed for a charming grin, but even Amy had to admit, it fell short of his usual attempts, "Surprise?"

The hot spray felt like heaven on Sam's aching back.

He had forgotten how much hunting sucked. He had only been fifteen when he'd left his family, and while he'd hunted with them plenty of times before, he was usually regulated to research. He hadn't been good enough that he could just pick it up after seven years and still be good at it.

The monster from his nightmare was right, he had gotten rusty.

He was lucky that everything had turned out alright. He was lucky that Amy hadn't been hurt. Hell, he was lucky that Amy had been there at all. As much as he'd tried to keep her out of the action, Sam wasn't sure that he'd have been okay without Amy there.

It was done though. He'd done the job that he was threatened into doing, and Sandy and her husband would be safe because of Sam and Amy.

It was a good feeling.

It wasn't so good of a feeling that Sam ever wanted to complete another hunt again, but it was good.

Sam hoped that Sandy would still want to be friends with Amy after everything that had gone down. She hadn't started asking tough questions or demanding answers yet, but Sam was pretty sure she'd still been in shock at the time they had left. Sam wasn't worried that Sandy would say anything to anyone. Unless the first person she told happened to be a hunter, everyone would assume she was crazy if she tried to rat them out.

No, Sam was sure they were safe.

But he didn't like the idea of Amy's friends not being okay with what she was.

He hoped for his wife's sake that Sandy would be able to handle it.

With a sigh, Sam washed the remaining soap from his body and stepped out of the shower. It didn't matter. Whatever tomorrow brought didn't matter, because he had done what the monster in his dream had asked, and now he knew that his family would be safe.

Amy would be safe.

They'd had to hunt, but it was okay. They had come out ahead, and everyone was safe.

They had done it together.

"Saaaaaammy," a voice called, "Sammy-Boy!"

Nonono, these dreams were supposed to stop once he had completed the hunt. He had done his job. He'd completed the task.

Sam sat up with a groan and found that he was in his and Amy's bedroom, colors muted to dark blues and grays. He was definitely asleep, "What?" He asked, looking around for the voice's owner.

"Took you long enough to take out one little ghost, Sam!"

Sam let out a growl as he spotted the yellow-eyed man, "Whatever. The job is done. I did what you asked. Can you leave me alone now?"

The monster tsked, "Sam, that job was a complete disgrace! You nearly got yourself killed. Without your little kitsune to save you, you would've been a wall pancake! What would your dad and brother have to say about a Winchester who was such a useless hunter?"

Anger and fear burned in Sam's gut. Was the monster able to read memories? Or worse, had it been there in Sandy's apartment and Sam hadn't even noticed? "The job was still done! I did what you asked. You can leave us alone now."

Sam wanted out of the dream. He wanted to wake up.

"No can do, Sammy," the monster grinned, "I'm just getting started. You think taking out one little ghost means that you're up to speed? No no no, that was just the first hunt that you're going to complete for me."

Sam shook his head, "No. No way. I did what you wanted, but now it's done!"

"You're forgetting one thing. I still hold all the cards! You don't know what I am, you don't know how to stop me, but I know that if I light a kitsune's heart on fire that it will kill them as surely as if I had stabbed it with a silver knife."

A bolt of fear shot through Sam as he glared at the monster.

"You really should be thanking me, Sammy Boy. I could be making you travel! I could be making you go find your own hunts. Instead I'm sending them right to you! I'm gift wrapping them for you! You get your cushy life, you get your little wife, and with my intervention, you won't be so damned weak!"

Sam thought briefly about trying to fight the monster. But he doubted he could hurt the thing in his dreams. He thought about trying to argue, or to say that he wouldn't obey the monster's orders again.

But he couldn't risk that the thing would hurt Amy.

And if it really did send a hunt to him, could he ignore it again? 

He thought about Frank.

No, Sam didn't think that he could ignore a hunt in his own neighborhood again now that he knew that it was real.

He glowered at the monster.

"That's the spirit!" It said with a grin, "You get to keep your community safe from monsters, and I don't kill your little wife. It's a win-win!"

"Why do you want me to hunt so badly?" Sam asked, remembering Amy's question from when he had first told her about the dreams, "Why would a monster want there to be another hunter in the world?"

It grinned a stained smile, yellow eyes boring into Sam's own, "I don't give a damn about hunters. I care about you. You're special."

Sam didn't like the sound of that. He didn't like the sound of that at all. 

He opened his mouth to ask another question, but found that the room was melting away in front of him.

Sam awoke with a jerk, and looked at the room around him.

He was in his bedroom, and Amy was tucked right by his side.

He buried his face in her hair and inhaled the scent of her shampoo. He loved Amy. He'd do anything to keep his wife safe, even if it meant that he'd have to pick up hunting again.

He'd need to start planning. Salt and a single hunting knife wouldn't get Sam very far if the yellow-eyed monster was going to be sending multiple hunts Sam's way. He'd need to get more supplies.

Sam let one of his hands drape over Amy's stomach, and she mumbled at him in her sleep. They should probably put the baby plans on hold.

He knew the discussion would probably make Amy unhappy, but it would have to happen. It made Sam unhappy too. He had been so excited by the idea that they might have a baby soon.

But while this yellow-eyed thing was obsessed with Sam and willing to hurt his loved ones?

Sam couldn't risk it.

Sam would research. He'd learn whatever the thing was, and he'd learn how to kill it. He'd keep himself and Amy safe. And in the meantime, he'd take on whatever hunts he had to.

He looked at his sleeping wife with a smile.

There was very little that he wouldn't do to keep her safe.