WAYWARD SOLDIER.

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〔 thread ii, sam & dean, chapter ii. 〕
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when allʼs said and done, it had been their way of dealing with hardships of any category. attempt to push down whatever pain there was like the biggest of knots pressuring your throat, every taunting thought, and convert them into fuel. even when they seemed to be louder than everything else around you. despite convincing himself the differing, sam knew somewhere within he was never going to get that shot at a full ride. he was never going to become some lawyer or get hitched. dean was right; he was one of them, a hunter, meant to live a life on the move. the apple pie one he wanted to badly? it wasnʼt reserved for him, hadnʼt been on the cards. but the one that was, wasnʼt without its perks. he had his brother, the one heʼd had every confidence in. for two whole years, dean hadnʼt asked him for a single favor, even when he probably needed it and should have. sam owed him this, if not more. there were times where he wanted to press that button and call him — to hear how he was doing.

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but he couldnʼt. because the way they left things, the rumination, kept making up hundreds of excuses. ❛ iʼm sorry. ❜ it wasnʼt too late, was it? the syllables sounded strained. it would be far-fetched to say they were easy to vocalize. however, after at last doing so, the weight had dimmed. or it appeared that way. jittery sentiments kept him up for a few miles more; the fire, the smoke, jessica. the halloween party, their conversation, would not stop playing from the beginning to the end. crash and burn. her words were still unabating, the restive guilt pounding like a drum. he should have given her a heads up, told her at least something about who he really was. yet he left her unprotected, brought that upon her. brushing aside the self-condemnation and regret was not going to be a walkover, but he would have to get a grip now when it was crucial for him to get his head in the game. for jess and for mary. it wasnʼt until sleep took hold that the battering stopped, bringing temporary ease. heavy eyelids shut, right arm serving as a pillow under his head against the window while the other found comfort atop his stomach. it felt like only a handful of moments had passed when this lightning like sensation shot through him. an air horn, seriously? his eardrums still throbbed, rushing breaths being the reflection of the rising annoyance spuming inside him. ❛ very funny, jerk. ❜ a glare, enough to pierce. ❛ man, weʼre not kids anymore! ❜ last he checked, the prank wars of theirs always escalated. but, if dean wanted another one, he would get it. admittedly, a little laughterʼd be good for him right now. ❛ yʼsure you want to start that crap up again? ❜ instinctively wiping his chin, sam challenged. the sun was shining behind gray clouds, the road outstretching below tires. at this point, his former home had been hours away. so was she. what was awaiting in colorado was yet to be disclosed.

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〔 thread i, sam & sarah, chapter i. 〕
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the next warning in line came without delay, the same one causing the younger hunter to jump in and take a seat. ❛ we appreciate the concern, maʼam. but we need this job. we can handle it. ❜ a reassuring smile, in order to give her peace of mind. as if that was doable around these parts. nevertheless, after offering them something to drink and hesitantly accepting the answer of his, sheʼd started telling them what she knew about the tragedies — about the voorhees family. to top it off, she had mentioned jason returning to get back at crystal lake for what was done to him, asserted she had caught a glimpse of him herself but got away before he could spot her. posterior to that, the entrance of a local attracted her attention, leading her to excusing herself and welcoming the guest. thereafter, sam had glanced at his co-counselor, a quirk of his brow introducing the imminent query. ❛ we thinkinʼ the same thing? ❜ the required gaps were filled in, werenʼt they? a bit of rock salt to slow him down, burn his remains, the vengeful spirit drill.

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〔 thread i, sam & sarah, chapter i. 〕
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in the last few weeks, there was nothing but new cases multiplying on the agenda, cropping up all across the country and out of it. new jerseyʼs crystal lake being one of the worst amid them. its camp, to be more specific. according to the research he had done on the place, there had been two unsolved murders back in 1958, then a killing spree in 1979 which left behind exactly seven bodies. the one responsible for the massacre, pamela voorhees, was later killed herself. but it hadnʼt ended there. thus, the spree thatʼd eventuated five years later with an even larger number of gruesome deaths — over thirty. it continued afterwards as well, newcomers just dropping like flies. his initial guess? her son, jason. there was a certain article casting some light on that speculation. he had drowned, which explained his motherʼs hatred towards the ones that would stay at the camp, along with his own. revenge, it was the connection tying the two together, specially since another tourist had been found in the woods recently with multiple stab wounds. machete stab wounds. yet the police themselves seemed to be walking away from it. that was where sam and sarah came in; as camp counselors. there really was a first time for everything. notwithstanding, it would help them blend in fast. pulling in, the sign read ‘crystal hideoutʼ. their first stop, a bar not far from the destination. the timbered facade of it had a few cracks upon it. those, and a couple of warnings written in red. were it anyone else, not much thinking would be done before car keys would put in the ignition. but it was safe to say that theyʼd had their fair share of the unsual by now. ❛ yeah, should be interesting. ❜ an intent look trod on his visage, the onrush of the phrasing enmeshed in an identical tone. although the message was very clear-cut and it was hard not to get the memo, setting the town in the rear-view mirror was not their m.o., not before people were one hundred percent out of harmʼs reach. consequently, a quick intrigued peek at his sister ere entering the rather quiet bar. an out-and-out uncanny one, that was. it took no genius to see it; but the more sarah had said, the more the ownerʼs featuresʼd sunk, any color left in them barely detectable.

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〔 christmas thread, sam & dean, chapter i. 〕
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growing up the way they did, the holidays hadnʼt exactly been the paradigm of hallmark memories. the traditional big, decorated trees and jolly family dinners had been replaced by fast food in motel rooms and stolen wreaths made out of empty beer cans. in spite of that being far from idyllic, dean had always tried to make the best out of it, for both of them. it was one of the reasons why he deserved a christmas as close to normal as possible, a day without burdens weighing him down. with a plate of warm cherry pie seated in his palms, sam had approached the table, knowing the door would open in about five minutes. the room itself donned the festive spirit as well, lights gleaming on the small tree and illumining the car fresheners hanging from its branches. the finishing touch? eggnog, two cups already prepared, containing an extra kick. ❛ dude, right on time! merry christmas. ❜ the greeting had collided with heartened features, gaze determined to stay upon his counterpart as he took the surprise in. priceless.

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〔 christmas thread, sam & sarah, chapter i. 〕
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he couldnʼt recall the last time sarah had been as enthusiastic as she was now and truth was, sam could proudly admit he felt the same way. they were going christmas shopping, grabbed the badly needed intermission. with the wheel under his grip, hazel irises exuberantly glanced at the snowflakes racing in the december wind. dean had stayed in the bunker, unaware of their intentions. as far as he knew, they were out making a casual supply run. ❛ i canʼt believe weʼre gonna have an actual christmas this year. thanks to you. ❜ hadnʼt it been for their sister, everything holiday related would have remained at the back of his head, squeezed beneath lore and scores of gigs. ❛ so where do we go first? it was your idea, you call the shots. ❜ sharing a normal conversation even, had been out of the common. which is why he would cling to it while it lasted.

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〔 christmas thread, sam & rose, chapter i. 〕
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as the fresh snow covered the ground and christmas had flitted in the air, things were for once looking up and somehow, his hunch had been telling him nothing would go sideways anytime soon. specifically because rose was back in the picture and next to him. ❛ you think deanʼs gonna burn down the kitchen while weʼre gone? ❜ with an arm interlaced with hers and a jovial snicker converging with the hiemal zephyr, the stroll was enlivened. the parks, the shops, nothing was left out of the holidayʼs reach to complement the mood. it was surreal. but despite the bright, most wonderful time of year ambiance, his attention couldnʼt part from the brunette. it felt so staggeringly right, the thought of them staying this way. footsteps had slowed down and eventually halted when a stray golden star had come into sight. hence, sam finding himself picking it up. ❛ look, — it probably fell during the storm. ❜ solely to hand it to her. ❛ for you. ❜ were his brother close, he would have compared it to a chick flick. natheless, once their hues had assembled, everything else just became blur. then in a flash, their lips had bonded, a serene wave washing over his system and pulling him under. all cogitations had melted under the tender touch. one he wished didnʼt have to end. finding the right time always was a problem, but now, now seemed perfect.

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〔 thread i, sam & rose, chapter v. 〕
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the bomb had been dropped, the elephant in the room moved out of the way and dealt with after what felt like forever. the inventory of possible responses had been a poignant one, but none had made it into reality, affirming he shouldnʼt have jumped to suppositions. not when it was her in the narrative. the interminable walk he had taken on pins and needles turned out to be senseless. she had never stabbed him in the back, nor thrown condemnation in his face. what he had tackled; it wasnʼt something one could bypass without judgement, ire, or hatred tossed into the jumble. he had crossed that line, the unwritten rule. hunters didnʼt look for allies in monsters, they skipped engaging in something so speculative. but rose, despite hearing what she had and being brought up to date on the salient characteristics of the issue, trusted his convictions albeit not knowing what they could do in the long run.

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ephemeral shock drowned his lineaments next, headed for his bloodstream. not the perturbing variety, rather the one that reshaped the stout stones inside his heart into dust and permitted relief. she had palpably made her place in all this clear, as had he his. truthfully, it must have been the steadiest heʼd been in a while. choosing to lay hold of a few more peace immersed moments before theyʼd do a bunk had hardly provided sam with more preparation, but the hush did lend a piece of its effect and rinsed a bit of the unease away. ❛ hey, rose, — you donʼt have to do this... but youʼre still here. so thank you. ❜ a subtle shrug, held by a nod of the same department. the tired, gentle gaze affixed on his friend had supported the weak smile still ploughing on upon his lips. the two cordial words encased not only her resolution to hop on the crazy ride, but the unwavering trust she continued to have in him, too. with an exhale, the topic was rerouted from the short heart-to-heart. ❛ she just wants to be on the winning side, yʼknow? itʼs workinʼ out for both of us. thatʼs all there is to it. when this ends, weʼre done. ❜ instead of dwelling on it for longer than he had to, a question was empowered to steal the limelight. ❛ i shouldʼve asked right off, but howʼve you been? ❜ the inquiry hadnʼt been famous for being simple or light, especially not around him and his kin. still, in defiance of the baggage it bore, he would do his damnedest to offer her what she had offered him were it needed — easement.

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〔 thread i, sam & jo, chapter iii. 〕
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❛ sulfur? ❜ scrunching his nose, a mumble had materialized. with flashlight in hand, feet had paced further, deeper into the hideout. alertness had heightened, ears expecting to register something, anything. and they did, not that it was comforting. chains. using the rattling as his guide would prove to be a miscalculation minutes later. in the middle of the warehouse was an empty chair, one he gathered dean had been tied to. the drops of crimson upon it had only represented confirmation. ❛ jo... ❜ fore he could turn to face her, immense pressure had environed his neck, the lack of oxygen overtaking quickly. whilst a hand seized the tightening chains, the other one reached down to grab the flask filled with holy water from his pocket. with a hurried motion, it had been splashed on to the face of the demonʼs. once the grip had loosened and his attacker had been shoved off, locutions rang out. ❛ jo, behind you! ❜ not long after had he been slammed into a brick wall, unable to move, a transparent force lifting him up. ❛ run! ❜ adrenaline was pumping through him like mad, yet he had no control whatsoever, forced to watch the nightmare unravel.

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〔 thread i, sam & jo, chapter iii. 〕
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despite the concernʼs amplification at the cogitation of their next step, he would be lying through his teeth had he said he didnʼt understand her. both were regarded as breakable; as kids, when they were never that. they belonged out in the minefield. it had coursed through their veins, the trade. their choices had no role in it. it was the greater good that mattered. i know what i signed up for. that, right there, had rewound time for the hunter. took him back to one of his and his brotherʼs het up wrangles. john had taken dean with him, to work a case. sam was forced to stay back, spend the whole day cooped up in another gloom adorned motel. they hadnʼt told him where they were going, for his own safety. funny, the word had a habit of popping up oftentimes, but it was more of a semblance than a sturdy dome. when one was born a combatant, it had been an empty promise because there would always be something awaiting to pounce. unbeknownst to them, one of the nestʼs inhabitants had found him during their absence. luckily, he was quick to react and ended it there and then. once they were back, the colloquy well-nigh tore the walls down. some of it had been blocked out, but it had all swirled around the same thing. him, needing protection. he might have been young, but he wasnʼt a child. bottom line, sam had been where jo was standing, time after time. thatʼs why he quit pushing; insisting on leaving her out of it. they would hold out together, not alone. ❛ right, letʼs go. but before we do, uh, — thanks... and sorry, for stealinʼ your case. ❜ the latter part of the statement carried a rather frolicsome tone, in comparison to the first. there was even a curve of a grin atop his lips, not one that lasted long. she wasnʼt doing it exclusively for him, but it still meant a ton. as they were nearing the main event, keeping the series of onslaughts his thoughts had caused became a bit harder to board up. gearing up meant literally gearing up, for they grabbed everything they had in store for the unidentified enemy. ❛ yeah, it is. ❜ gaining on the warehouse, he had opined. it was quiet, way too quiet. which, usually, wasnʼt the sign to look forward to. inside, tenebrosity had reigned, covered each inch of the place, akin to quicksand. the smell looming in the air, however, was painfully familiar. with it, the enigma had been solved. some of it, at least.

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〔 thread i, sam & rebekah, chapter ii. 〕
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denial? that was a first. they were usually proud of their handiwork. klaus being at the top of that scale. the new lifestyle, the whole turning innocent act, it didnʼt really have mikaelson written all over it. accordingly, downright confusion inching to the surface. with head slanted to the side marginally, auricles had begun to decrypt every expression that had come from her. his guard hadnʼt slackened, as even a nanosecond of inattention had a possibility of leading to a ruinous end. the more he had heard, the more had the verbalization fazed. sam wasnʼt one to judge or shoot first and ask questions later, but this was different. a family with that kind of background all of a sudden changing their tune? she couldnʼt blame him for being chary. ❛ weird, thought this was your town. ❜ a feigned impassive shrug, yet within there was all but repose.

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❛ but looks like your little minions are running the show now. pathetic, if yʼask me. ❜ the sneer was levelled at rebekah, a counterstroke for the hardly believable confidence she had trained on him. he still had the upper hand, even if sheʼd claimed the antithetical. driving the stake through her heart would be no problem, but letting her off that easy wouldnʼt give him answers. she knew the town and everyone in it like the back of her hand. therefore, he was swift to exchange the distance for propinquity, the weapon pressed to her sternum whilst her back had been adhered to the wall. ❛ you can pretend all you want, rebekah, but youʼre scared. you also want this to be over as much as i do. thatʼs why iʼm gonna give you a chance, — help me find whoever did it and you and your family get to live. we both get what we want. deal? ❜ enemies or not, it was a fair bargain and it was clear that when push came to shove, family always won. they had stuck their necks out for one another, as had he and dean on countless occasions and would until their final breath. that was the one thing he frankly respected, despite the stained record of the originalsʼ. they put family above all else, hadnʼt given it a second thought. thus, his word wouldnʼt be shattered either. if they stayed off the murder wagon, of course. the choice was hers.

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〔 thread i, sam & dean, chapter ii. 〕
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though low, lying sure seemed like the best recourse, delaying the truth did. because it gave dean less time to try to sign another dotted line and slide right back into the pit. however, it appeared that no matter what had been said, the point still wasnʼt getting to its purpose. instead, it maintained to linger somewhere in the middle, as if hitting a palisade. there was no turning his choice around, or thinking it over. he needed him to see that for what it was, not be bailed out of it. his brother was grasping at invisible straws when he, out of all people, should have known it was fatuous, sinking in his mind and casting about for solutions that were just not there. deanʼs whole existence had narrowed down to aiding others, saving him, the duties that barely ever left him space to breathe. sam was the one that had to endure it, watch him store all the feelings away and bite his tongue as if none of it was worth voicing. nevertheless, he remained undeterred, kept grinding. it was what the younger winchester had been looking up to all these years; his indefatigable strength in the face of anything that came his way, supernatural or not.

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he wasnʼt merely a soldier that had to bow down to every single directive john had set in front of him. he was samʼs anchor, since he was four and only mastering the business. seeing him tattered, the ache was indescribable, harrowing. but dean could get through it, get to that light at the end of the tunnel, even if right now the world seemed to be triturating the idea. being even? deeper than that. it was about keeping family walking and talking and so far, it had been working. he had saved his big brotherʼs life, so the travail wasnʼt for nothing. it was a win. when the heart-rending hug had been brought to an end, the discussion had continued unbothered, like a broken cassette tape. there he went again with his job, his duty, the keenness to retain the same role he had been hefting on his shoulders for too long. ❛ no, dean, ❜ the attempt to calm himself had fizzled out, gone straight into nihility. ❛ you wonʼt! you canʼt! please, stop... listen to me. you got a chance to live, leave hunting behind. youʼve done more than enough for me. for dad, too. you deserve a break, man. it hurts, i know it does, but you gotta let this go. ❜ let me go, he was meaning to say, but was pushed back once more by the newly sculpted drops and tethered gorge. there wasnʼt a side of him sam hadnʼt been familiar with. be it his habit of hiding pain under bad jokes or his unwillingness to give up when it had been the hardest. still, that undying determination would have to wane for his sake, as difficult as it would be.

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〔 thread ii, sam & dean, chapter i. 〕
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one second, he was free from the cursed life of his kinʼs. the next? past came knocking, or rather, breaking into his new one. truthfully, he had been happy for a while. genuinely happy on that thin ice, for what it was worth. there was nothing but the whole college package, one heʼd had his heart set on and finally got to live. but there was always a catch, especially if you were a winchester. a taste of ordinary was something that couldnʼt be spared. instead, melting silver into bullets was what their saturday afternoons consisted of. whole weeksʼ, for that matter. the search for the thing that killed their mother, for payback, hadnʼt stopped. john was driven, beyond the point of turning back. so he had made soldiers out of them, weapons. that kind of brand was sealed inside skin, unable to get out. no white picket fence would ever erase it. part of him was aware of the gelid truth, but that didnʼt mean accepting it was any easier.

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forbye, their father was in the wind as well and dean claimed he needed help finding him, hence the sudden arrival. sam was smart enough to predict how that would end and he was right. the fatal strike? jessica. history had repeated itself right before his eyes. she was gone, the future he had been building had crumbled down like paper. perchance thatʼs all it was in the first place. ❛ dean, i actually had a life here. i was even going to... ❜ propose to her. it simmered underneath sound, for saying it aloud would only add more salt to the open wound. watered oculars stared out the window of the impala, reminiscing. it was as if it hadnʼt even existed. a dream, nothing more and nothing less. the smell of leather caused an outflow of recollections. dean, himself and john calling the road home. spending hours, days, in those seats. now it was back to that. gaze had returned to his brother shortly after, pleading. the sight of the building alone singed. ❛ you wonʼt have to do it alone. letʼs go. we got work to do. ❜ in sooth, the sooner theyʼd drive off, the sooner stanford and everything attached to it would be buried. that was the best solution, wasnʼt it? suppress, sweep it under the rug, focus on revenge and the only family he had left. the only way heʼd be able to go on.

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〔 thread i, sam & jo, chapter ii. 〕
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in lieu of lengthening the safety lecture, sam had conceded with no further additions. hunters were born cursed; doomed to lose their own life or the lives of those closest to them in the endless crossfire. as self-willed as jo was, he knew she could put herself in his shoes. it was why she had stayed, wasnʼt it? they had both experienced it, the desolation. she with her father and he with his family. morbid, with no doubt skulking around the facet. the void john left, that he had learned to live with. but dean? he was always at his side, picking him up whenever he had crashed to the ground. pitching all that into consideration, it hadnʼt been only anent the case and her steadfast desire to be involved in it. it was personal. this started whirling around them the minute dean had gone missing. whatever they were up against, it was smarter than they had given it credit for. the symbol deluging the entire town, for example, was the primary factor. ❛ so maybe itʼs — ❜ afore the clarification could take flight, the ringing of his phone had chimed in. ascertaining whether to pick up or decline was no problem, as the caller id had answered that question.

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❛ dean, you okay? talk to me. ❜ the signal was weak, background noise muffled. even so, he could make out a word; funkytown. their code word. it became as plain as a pikestaff in a matter of seconds. ❛ where are you? ❜ fingertips dug into the sides of the device in his hand, nearly breaking it in half. all the previous thoughts had been tuned out, heed positioned on his voice. their conversation had ended apace, but before the connection was severed, another lead had been unveiled. globes had then zipped to the other, a blend of fret and relief inside them. ❛ good news is, heʼs alive and i know where they are. bad news? weʼll be walking right into a trap. ❜ wouldnʼt be the first time. when was killing things that go bump in the night ever easy? mercifully, they always seemed to be one step ahead. ❛ hold on... ❜ quickly finding his way back to the computer, he had noted what heʼd been looking for with a few words typed into the search engine. an old, abandoned warehouse hiding a bit farther from their current location. ❛ this is the place. ❜ they still had no clue what it was that they were tailing, so they had to gear up. ❛ yʼready to hit the road and gank the son of a bitch? ❜ determination had hopped off the utterance ever so effortlessly, only to align with his face. the how was still on hold, but they would cross that bridge as well.

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〔 thread i, sam & hope, chapter i. 〕
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not everything was black and white, mystic falls was the attestation of that. the town had it all underneath the picturesque layer; witches, vampires, werewolves. creatures he and dean seldom didnʼt have on their hunting schedule. but not everyone fit the monster profile. some deserved a second chance, to clean the slate. caroline forbes being one of them. when she had told him about the school, sam knew they did the right thing by looking the other way. the notion of those kids having somewhere to be now had been more than enough for him. they didnʼt have to be lost or do bad. they had a roof over their heads, a place of their own. they had protection within those walls. regardless, after the news, they had lost touch and since there was nothing on the radar for a while, it was safe to assume nothing had gone south.

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that was, until the call had woken him up in the middle of the night months later. two students were missing, none other than josie and lizzie. last seen around hope mikaelson herself. the blame hadnʼt fallen upon her, though. there was more to the whole disarray, more dots laying around that hadnʼt been connected, sifted. deciding not to bother dean, heʼd headed there on his own. cogitations had stirred tirelessly all the while, attempted to come up with an explanation or a beginning of one. alaric didnʼt fail to add that hope wouldnʼt say much ere hanging up, which was the priority. ergo, him trying to get to the bottom of it with her. emphasis on trying. ❛ hope, iʼm here to help. but in order to do that, iʼm gonna need you to tell me what happened, what you saw. details are kind of the key here. you can trust me. ❜ spheres had rounded off the intonation with commiseration right off, an encouraging nod tagging along. this was an all hands on deck situation and without her, their odds were a bit slim.

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〔 thread i, sam & dean, chapter i. 〕
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it might have been reckless, unforgivable even. but there were no regrets, because if it meant his brother would escape hellfire, he cared about nothing else. let alone himself. dean had always put him first, sacrificed himself too many times to count. said it was his job. so what was samʼs job, then? stand back and do nothing while he suffered; took his last breath? no, that wasnʼt how it was going to play out, not in his book. from the get-go, this was bound to betide. the painful memory had transpierced innards whenever it had passed through, reminding him of what he was responsible for. scarpering from it had only been wishful thinking. starting fresh was. he couldnʼt walk over losing him. as selfish and incautious as that had been. ❛ would it have made a difference if i told you sooner? thereʼs no way out, i donʼt want one. i had to do it... you — ❜ it was the knot inside throat that had interrupted, cut him off.

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the culpability never retracted. he had died, come back and dean paid for it with his life. how was that fair and this wasnʼt? it was justice from his viewpoint. ❛ you sold your soul for me, too! you went to hell for me! i shouldʼve stayed dead, dean. this is how itʼs supposed to be. you gotta promise me you wonʼt look back after iʼm gone, that youʼll give normal a shot. ❜ asking that of him was a lot, too much. but they couldnʼt keep going in circles, could they? the line had to be drawn. ❛ promise me! ❜ tears had scalded despite the efforts to hold the stoic attitude of his up. hands gripped the older hunterʼs shoulders, fore he was pulled into a tight hug that had said what he hadnʼt had the gallantry to. it was secure, always the same. the following moments had been accompanied by quietness. sentiments, on the other hand, werenʼt stock-still. sam had thought about their childhood, the way they had been brought up and where it led them. dean taught him what he knew, made sure he was protected, under his wing. he was his pillar. since then, nothing had remoulded. wasnʼt this the least he could do?

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