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“Rowena?” Sam questioned his ringing phone.
For the past few months, since they connected over their pasts with Lucifer, he and the Witch had a shared understanding. In exchange for the book of the damned, Rowena provided magical assistance whenever they needed, as well as began teaching Sam some of the fundamentals of witch-craft. Quick study he was though, Rowena took it upon herself to expand his tutelage and take him in as her protégé. And while they got along well and have come to care for each other deeply, spending time together just for the sake of one another’s company, a phone call out of the blue like this could not be a good sign.
“You okay?” He asked after picking up her call.
“Why wouldn’t I be, Samuel?” She spoke with her usual bravado, but her voice was weak and shaky.
“You’re a better liar than that.” Sam shook his head with a half smile on his face, but one that was wavering with concern.
“Was I really that unconvincing?” Rowena asked in a fake-hurt tone.
“I just know you, Ro.”
Silence.
“You’re the one who called, just talk to me, okay?” Sam pleaded, forcing himself to be patient with her. Like himself, like everyone in his life, Rowena was absolutely horrible at asking others for help. But she did make the call, so that had to count for something.
“I’m sick…” she finally admitted.
“Wait- what? I thought you couldn’t get sick? You’re over three hundred years old and using magic to keep you alive, shouldn’t that take care of little things like influenza?”
“Oh Samuel,” Rowena laughed before it turned into a hacking cough.
“Ro,” Sam breathed involuntarily.
“It’s- it’s not natural. It’s magic, that backstabbing bitch-“
”Save your energy, Rowena.” Sam interrupted, before continuing more softly. “You should rest. I’m coming over, we’ll talk then, okay?”
“Alright then, Samuel.” She paused. “Thank you.”
“Yeah…” Sam didn’t quite know how to respond to her. “I’ll be there soon. Not quite at teleportation yet.”
Rowena chuckled. “You’ll get there sooner than you think.”
Sam hung up the phone before grabbing his bag and heading for the garage. Though there wasn’t any case at the moment, Sam knew that Dean would kill him if he dared touch Baby, so he opted for one of the many older cars the Men of Letters had left behind. It was only after he got behind the wheel that he realized he had no idea what Rowena was even facing.
It had to be bad, for her to even reach out at all. She sounded weak and was coughing, and it was caused by magic. But that was the extent of what he knew. He didn’t know what else she was feeling, how long she’s been sick, what her prognosis was. But his imagination filled that out easily, concocting hundreds of images of a deteriorating Rowena as he rushed over. Maybe he shouldn’t have cut her off so quickly.
Finally arriving after multiple close calls on the freeway and almost completely out of gas, Sam punched in Rowena’s call code at the door, tapping his foot faster with each long second.
The familiar buzz sounded and Sam ran inside, taking the stairs two at a time. He overshot her apartment and had to take a deep breath to calm his nerves and racing heart, thumping rapidly more from anxiety than his burst of movement after hours behind the wheel. He fiddled for his key and fumbled to get it in the lock, his hands shaking slightly. He took a shaky breath to try steadying himself before it finally clicked into place.
He opened the door slowly and made his way inside.
“It’s Sam,” he called out. Not that it could be anyone else. Without the proper incantation - which changes regularly, for additional security - anyone else would already be suffering a gruesome slow death unless they stepped back outside. Only he and Rowena could enter freely.
He knocked on her ajar bedroom door before peering inside. Rowena lay in her bed without any of her normal makeup, bright red hair uncharacteristically disheveled. She was a tad paler than usual, but otherwise looked okay - at least compared to what he had feared. Actually, she still looked rather beautiful. Sam sighed in relief. A tissue box and a near-empty glass of water sat on the stand next to her, and an overflowing trash basket was at its feet. It felt so oddly human.
Rowena blinked at him and smiled weakly. “Samuel, you came.”
“Of course I did,” he replied, smiling back at her. “Is it uh-” Sam glanced around without stepping closer.
“It’s magic, Dearie, I’m not contagious.” She spoke slower than normal, but still smirked in her pillow. Sam rolled his eyes as he came closer, still nervous.
“What happened? Are- are you gonna be okay?” He didn’t really care what had happened, if he was being honest. Not until he knew whether Rowena would be alright. She meant too much, even if he couldn’t quite describe everything she was to him. Ally, mentor, friend, but there was something more. Dean would occasionally tease him for having a crush on her and he did wonder too, but he quickly ruled out any sort of romantic attraction. He knew what that felt like, this was different. But still, he had a soft spot for her, more than anyone else since Jess.
Rowena nodded, and Sam let out a sharp breath.
“Should pass eventually,” she muttered.
“Okay, that- that’s good.”
“You weren’t that worried about me, were you?” She teased softly. He was, and he couldn’t even deny it.
“Can you blame me? Entire time I’ve known you, you've never even had the sniffles.”
“I am gifted that way.”
Sam didn’t say anything for a moment. The sight of a woman normally so invulnerable, though he knew better than to think her as totally lacking of any weakness or vulnerability, barely managing to lift her head up? It wrecked him.
“How are you feeling?” He asked.
“Horrible, thanks for asking…” But she still smiled.
“You’ve been coughing, anything else? Nausea, headaches, runny nose, aches, fatigue, chills-“
”No nausea…” She managed before trailing off. Sam didn’t need her to finish the sentence. Yes everything else.
“I’m gonna get you some acetaminophen, okay? Should help with the pains and if you have a fever. I’ll grab some crackers too. May I…?” He held out a hand towards her, close but not quite touching. Rowena nodded.
He placed the back of his hand against her forehead and he could feel the heat radiating into it, but he had definitely felt worse from Dean with an infected injury. He sighed, wiping some of the strands of hair that clung to the light sweat on her face.
”Mild fever, nothing too bad.” He managed a reassuring smile - or at least, what he hoped passed for reassuring - before heading out of the room.
Apparently, witches keep stockpiles of everything except first aid and over the counter medications, but luckily he had a first aid kit stashed in every vehicle just in case of emergencies. He went out to grab it, and snagged some saltines that were in her kitchen - Rowena tended to like salty snacks.
He came back inside to find her grimacing as she tried to sit up.
“Hey, hey, hey, let me help you, okay?” He rushed over, placing everything on the floor unceremoniously to catch the weight of her body.
“I’m fine-” She tried to say before her head lolled forward, resting on his shoulder. Readjusting his position to have one free arm, he reached past her to prop up some pillows, stroking her hair with his thumb. Rowena had grabbed onto his arm, lazily stroking his bicep. He rolled his eyes fondly at her blatant attraction.
“Alright, let’s get you upright.” Sam shifted her so she was propped against the pillows. As he stood upright, he dragged his hand down her arm, stopping at the wrist.
“I can take care of myself, Samuel.” Sam raised an eyebrow at her, holding her gaze. Rowena just sighed.
“When was the last time you were sick, Ro. Let me take care of you,” he pleaded, taking her hand in his. “Please,” he whispered.
“I hate this,” she whispered back.
“I know, I know. Being sick can be awful.”
“No, I hate feeling… helpless.”
Sam squeezed her hand.
“Can you not do any magic right now?”
Rowena shook her head slowly. “Could, but…”
“Too tired.”
She nodded, her eyes beginning to well. Sam hated seeing her hurt. But a part of him loved being able to see her this vulnerable, to have her open up to him. To see a side of her that no one else was allowed.
“Tylenol?” he offered.
“Thanks, Samuel,” she whispered with a smile. His heart swelled and he couldn’t help but smile back.
He popped open the bottle of medication and placed two pills in her trembling hand. She placed them in her mouth and reached over for the glass of water, but it was just a bit too far. Sam handed it to her, and she took it graciously in both hands, downing the pill with a grimace.
“Sore throat too, huh?” He asked while taking back the water, making sure to place it within her reach. She nodded before shivering slightly. Sam instinctively placed his hand over her forehead once more. She felt the same as before.
“How about I get you a cold rag? I’ll make you some tea as well, should help with the sore throat. You should eat some of these in the meantime.” He handed over the saltines.
‘Thank you,’ she mouthed, offering him a shaky smile.
Sam decided to make use of his rudimentary witch-craft to boil the water faster. He found an expensive-looking assortment of teas and selected a bag of peppermint; he remembered that it was one of the best flavors for when you’re sick, and even if it didn’t help her, it certainly wouldn’t hurt, right? He prepared it with honey, dampened a hand-towel from the bathroom, then came back into Rowena’s room.
“Hope peppermint is okay, it needs to steep- are you okay?” He interrupted himself at the sight of Rowena with her eyes closed, tears silently streaming down her cheeks.
“Oh, I’m fine, Dearie,” she lied, wiping her tears unceremoniously with her sleeves.
“Ro…”
Sam didn’t press further. Not yet. Instead, he placed the tea next to her water and slowly draped the towel over her forehead, relaxing as she sighed at its touch.
“That feel better?”
She flitted her eyes open, her hazel-green eyes searching until they met his. Even through his worry, she still elicited a soft smile from him.
“It helps a little,” she replied, offering a weak smile of her own before it faltered. Sam felt a heaviness in his chest.
He wanted to be closer to her, if she’d let him. Even if he was going to be the one to kill her. But he wouldn’t do that. She still let him in, kept letting him in, closer than she’d let anyone else, despite their shared destiny. Maybe she would let him in closer.
“May I?” He asked, looking at the tiny sliver of space next to her in the bed before looking back up to her. Her eyes grew wide, but she nodded. Sam grinned, giddily directing her to scootch over as he climbed onto the bed. He wrapped one arm around her, at which she leaned forward and pulled his arm around her chest before she leaned back against him. The rag fell to the floor, but she made no motion to try to pick it back up. Sam chuckled.
“I hope you’re not laughing at me,” Rowena teased, relaxing into their new position.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He planted a kiss in her hair. “So, you were telling me on the phone what happened?”
“Oh, jealousy. Pettiness. The usual.”
Sam chuckled. “What about ‘that backstabbing bitch’?”
“Oh, you don’t want to hear it,” Rowena laughed sadly, tensing up in his embrace. “Long history, not my best side.”
“Hey, I get you had a dark past, but you've changed since we met. It doesn’t mean you’re the same person now, okay?”
“I cursed her garden last week.”
Sam laughed. If that’s the worst Rowena’s doing these days?
“Is that all? No resurrecting her loved ones just to torture them in front of her?”
“That garden is the only thing she’s ever loved,” Rowena shrugged, but she nuzzled against the crook of his arm. Sam pulled her in even closer than before.
They stayed like this, a comfortable silence falling over them, save for the occasional sniffle. Sam reached over for the box of tissues, leaving them on the bed. Rowena didn’t say anything, but he felt her smile against his forearm. But to his surprise, when she grabbed a tissue she didn’t blow her nose. Instead, she wiped her eyes.
“Rowena?” He pulled back on his embrace, pushing her sideways so he could look at her properly. She wouldn’t meet his gaze, but he could see her eyes were red-rimmed - and not just from being sick.
“Talk to me,” he pleaded softly. She swallowed, grimacing once more.
“Oh- wait, your tea!” He grabbed the mug, still hot but perfectly steeped. She took it with both her hands, blowing it softly before taking a sip with closed eyes. She hummed appreciatively before trying to lean over and place it on the counter herself. Sam placed his hands on the mug, easily stopping her movements, and looked her in the eyes.
“Samuel, I…”
“It’s okay,” he replied. Rowena handed the drink over, their fingers brushing slightly, and he placed it on the stand. He turned back and gave her a soft smile. She tried to smile back, but tears fell with it.
“I hate feeling so useless, I do. I hate needing to be cared for. But, here you are, taking care of me.”
“Because I care for you, Ro.”
“You’d be the first,” she admitted, barely audible and choking up. “I’m not used to it, but it’s nice, in a way. And I know I don’t- I don’t deserve this. Any of it. I don’t deserve kindness, or care. I certainly don’t deserve you.”
Sam pulled back, equally baffled and heart-broken for her. “Yes, you do.”
“No, I don’t.” She scoffed. “I’m not a good person-”
“Who is? Rowena, everyone deserves some care. And I know for a fact you’re trying to do better, and that’s what counts, right?”
She laughed through her tears. “Oh, you Winchesters and your heartfelt motivational speeches.”
“I’m not trying to get you to do anything, Ro, other than accept this. Accept me caring for you.”
“But I’m barely even sick, you said it yourself.” She turned her head away. Sam pulled her back, cupping her cheek.
“And when was the last time you were sick?”
“Sixteen seventy four,” she muttered through a growing smile. Sam raised an eyebrow at her, and she sighed in defeat.
“Oh alright.”
“Good.”
“I shouldn’t keep you here, though. I’m certain you have better things to be doing, better people to save and all that-”
“Rowena. Look at me. I’m here taking care of you because that’s what I want to do. Okay? If there’s one thing you’ve shown me it’s how to look out for what I want. And I want to do this. You hear me?”
Rowena nodded, eyes wide and still watery.
“Good,” Sam whispered, brushing a tear off her cheek. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He pulled her head down to place a tender kiss on her forehead. She chuckled at the gesture, and he absolutely adored the sound of it. He adored her.
“Well, unless you still want me to go, in which case-”
“I can still curse you after I recover, Dearie.”
Sam laughed. “You’re smiling too much for me to feel very threatened.”
Rowena placed her hands over his, pulling them from her cheeks and bringing them to her lips. She placed a slow kiss over his knuckles, still looking up at him. The corners of her eyes crinkled as she smiled.
Just like always, Sam smiled back.