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Psychics, Soulmates & Destiny

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The Ancient Greeks believed the gods had split human souls in half and placed them into separate bodies. So mortals were forced to wander through their lives, enduring trials to find their other half. Their Soulmate. There were many kinds: Twin Flames, Soulmates, and Kindred Spirits.
Bronwyn Evans liked the notion of soulmates, but had very little reason to believe in them. Not that she didn’t want to believe. Much like her association with religion, she acknowledged the possibility and desire for its existence, all while holding doubt considering lack of evidence. She supposed love could be in her future, but if high school was any indication, it was hopeless.

It wasn’t like she was unpleasant to look at. She always liked her blue-green eyes. Her aunt often complimented her on them. Soft facial features. Her auburn hair, cherry wood in hue, was something she was content with, barring its tendency to frizz out. The only thing she wished she could have changed, was her pale complexion. No matter how much sunscreen she would use, within half an hour in the sun, she resembled a tomato.

Bronwyn, or Wyn, as she preferred, was empirical. She enjoyed school for the most part and excelled notably. Although, the part she didn’t enjoy was the other students. Obviously it made things challenging. Like many teenagers, her social anxiety made speaking in front of class an unpalatable collection of nausea, sweating, heart racing and lightheadedness. Today, Bronwyn would learn that public attention was not the only trigger for these sensations.


She started her late September day like normal. A month into the fall semester of her Senior Year. Senioritis hadn’t hit her quite as hard as her classmates, but she probably could have stopped trying in class and been fine. When she got her early acceptance letter, she accepted without hesitation. She finished up the last of some homework while her Aunt Stacy busied herself in the kitchen, before finally wolfing down her breakfast and rushed towards the door.

“Ah, Ah, Ah,” Aunt Stacy called out and the teen halted her speed walk. She was hoping to avoid this. “What do we do before we leave this house?”

Her Aunt Stacy was a kind, yet particular woman. In her early forties, her tired eyes indicated her lifelong career as a Nurse. She often worked long hard hours at the hospital, but it was work she had taken to like a duck to water. Having cared for her niece on her own from infancy, she was the prime example of a hard working strong woman. Wyn had always admired that about her. And her aunt was religious. VERY religious. Not the type of woman who judged and looked down on other people, but what Christianity is supposed to be about. Full of humility, love towards others, doing charity work in her spare time, and she had raised Wyn in that life.


The teenager wasn’t a fan of her aunts required morning ritual. Wyn didn’t respond directly she simply gave her aunt what she wanted,

“Dear Heavenly Father, watch over and protect me as I go forth into this sinful and chaotic world. Guide me by your hand, Amen.”

“Hey,” Her aunt sighed gently, “I know you think you’re too old for this. But Wyn,” she stepped forward taking her nieces’ face gently in her hands, “There are evil things in this world. Faith in God is the only defense we have against the Devil,” Wyn resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “l want you to be safe. I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.”

“I know…”

“I love you,” Aunt Stacy grabbed the bag lunch that Wyn had definitely forgotten about, and kissed her cheek, “Have a good day at school.”

“Love you, too,” she smiled softly before heading out the front door.


Wyn pushed open the heavy double doors that led directly into the main hallway, with a huff, making a beeline for her locker. At this point she was sure her day would be filled with the same monotony it had for the past few years at this school. No one ever talked to her. Except for Steve Gillis, the class stoner and that was only when he rolled into History blazed, and he would ask Wyn to fill him in on what his missed. She had been homeschooled by her aunt up until High School. Then, her aunt had decided that she was too introverted, and needed to actually try and make friends. Her first day of school hadn’t been that bad... Then the rumors spread:


Did you seen the new homeschool kid? I heard her aunt is crazy religious and wont let her talk to boys because she’s afraid she’ll be corrupted. - Not True.


I heard the new girl’s actually a Satanist. That she sacrifices animals and does cult ritual stuff. - Not True.


Did you hear her dad’s locked up in the nuthouse? A fire burned down their house and killed her mom. The dad said it was a demon. - Unfortunately, True.


Christmas Eve when Wyn was 6 months old, their house caught fire. Her aunt didn’t like to talk about it, but she knew enough. Her father had managed to get her out of the house, but it was too late for her mother. At first, the fire department thought it started as a Christmas Tree fire, but they had been able to narrow it down to Bronwyn’s nursery. Faulty wiring they said. As soon as her father started raving about how a demon had burned his wife alive pinned on the ceiling, his mental health rapidly declined. By the time Bronwyn was a year old, the state had placed her in the custody of her aunt who lived in Oregon, and her Dad had been institutionalized in the Kansas State Mental Hospital.

So needless to say, Bronwyn’s classmates did what typical teenagers did and shunned those that were different. Freaks. But it didn’t matter to her much. At least they simply ignored her. That could not be said for everyone.


“Hey, Fag!” The official school douche bag, Mike Thompson, had chosen someone just as awkward as Wyn as his personal punching bag. David Walker. She had tried to report the bullying anonymously, then told the teacher she most trusted, then went straight to the principal, but nothing was done.

“Leave me alone Mike,” The young man's voice was shaky and soft. he knew that his words would hardly dissuade the bully.

“You finish that History paper for me?”

With no choice but to overhear, she fumed quietly, closing her eyes. Mike deserved a swift kick in the ass.


Wyn and several other students quickly turned their full attention to the pair. This was the first time David was actually standing up to him. She closed her locker carefully, but didn’t walk away. She had a feeling this was going to escalate fast.

“What did you say?” Mike’s tone suddenly darker.

“I s-said… No. I-I'm not gonna let you walk all over me anymore!”

Mikes face split into a sinister smile, “Oh really?” The sudden sound of a fist colliding with David’s jaw made Wyn cringe in empathy.


All attention shot towards the commanding voice, and Sam Winchester rushed forward putting himself between Mike and David, who held his jaw kneeling on the floor. The change in hallway was instantly felt by everyone. Wyn guessed that if her classmates thought she was a freak, then they certainly thought so of the new guy. He had started just over a week ago. Wyn had a couple classes with him, and more rumors had spread about him than any other student at Eagle Point High.

Mike, taken aback that someone actually had the audacity to step up, looked Sam up and down.

“Leave him alone,” Sam’s voice carried an air that sent shivers down Wyn's body. There was something about this guy that she couldn’t put her finger on.

“What are gonna you do about it… freak ?” Mike pushed himself into Sam’s personal bubble, their faces close. To her surprise Sam didn’t back down at all. In fact, he straightened himself.

“Back off,” the warning evident in his voice.

It all happened in the blink of an eye. Mike pushed Sam with his tough guy bravado, and attempted to swing a punch, but Sam dodged quickly. Then, there was a sickening crunch, and Mike Thompson was on the ground clutching his face, blood pouring from his nose, blubbering like a baby.

“You broke my nose!!! Oh God it hurts!”


The voice of the principal made most of the students feel the sudden urge to get to class as quickly as possible. The tall intimidating man with fire in his eyes, parted the crowd light sharp wind cutting through fog.

“MY OFFICE NOW! Thompson get yourself to the nurse.” With that Mike scurried off. David had finally returned to his feet, clutching his bag to his chest.

“But, but —“ David tried to utter out an explanation as the man rushed towards the small group of students.

“Not now David. Get to class,” the principal grabbed Sam roughly by the arm and started to lead him down the hall.

“He didn’t do anything wrong!”

Those remaining in the hall were just as surprised as Wyn when her voice pierced the tension, and defended Sam. Everyone stared, principal included. The familiar feeling of anxiety started to creep up from her stomach and her chest tightened. She quickly averted her eyes downward. Not knowing how the words came to her she continued,

“Mike was being a dick—umm jerk. Bullying David… Sam was trying to stop it…”

The auburn haired teen was certain her face was the color of tomato, but she stood her ground. The principal looked at David whose eyes were darting back and forth like a frightened animal, then to Wyn who managed to gather the courage to look the man in the eyes, then Sam who was perfectly still his expression giving nothing away. He released Sams arm before demanding all three students to follow him.

Cautiously, the young introvert, let out a shaky breath while holding onto the straps of her bag. When she looked up her gaze was met with Sam Winchester’s hazel stare. Like a shock she became overwhelmed with familiar feeling of sweaty palms, racing heart and lightheadedness with the surprising addition of electrical shiver all over her body.

Those eyes…




The two sat outside the door, while Principal Snyder talked to David inside his office. Wyn mousily fidgeted in the chair closest to the door. Much to her surprise Sam chose to sit with only one chair between them, instead of at the end opposite her. Her knees bounced with nervous energy. Periodically, she could see in her periphery Sams head turning towards her, before lowering his shoulders and casting his gaze to the floor again.

“It’s Bronwyn right?”

The sudden break in silence made the young girl jump. She blinked rapidly, almost as if unsure he was talking to her, “Wyn,” she managed with a soft squeak.

“Wyn,” he smiled as her heart lept up into her throat, “we’re in Bio together right? And History?”

Bronwyn allowed a soft but genuine smile to appear, and nodded.

“Thanks, for, ya know--” Sam gestured to the office, “standing up for me.”

Before she could formulate a reply, the door swung open, and an uncomfortable looking David stepped out with Principal Snyder close behind him.

“Go to the nurse, have your jaw looked at David. Miss Evans,” he looked down at her with his usual level of condescension, “if you please.” Then guestured inside. She stood to follow him, but stole a quick moment to glance at Sam. An unusual element of courage flourished within her at the hazel eyed gaze directed at her.

“So,” he took his seat behind the desk while she took her place in front of his desk, “you saw what happened?”

“Yes, sir…”

“Would you like to share?” Her heart began to race again, having nothing to do with the very attractive tall boy outside.

“I was at my locker and Mike came up to David asking about his History paper. David said he didn’t do it for him, and Mike punched him.” He simply nodded. “So, Sam stood up for him. Told him to leave David alone. Then Mike took a swing at Sam, so Sam hit him.”

“And how long has this been going on?”

She wasn’t sure what he was asking, “You mean the bullying?”

He nodded in affirmative.

“Since freshman year, at least. Not sure if it started earlier.”

“I find it odd no one said anything before.”

“I did,” she said rekindling the courage she had felt with Sam, “I reported it anonymously, and even came to you two years ago and you didn’t do anything then, because David was too scared to say anything. You can ask anyone. Mike is an asshole that has everyone in this school scared to say anything against him.”

The principal kept silent for a moment before smiling, which made Wyn even more uncomfortable. He never smiled, “Thank you for your honesty. Seems your story matches up with Davids… you’re free to go.” He pulled out a pad and jotted down a note with his signature, “Straight to class with you.”

Upon stepping outside, she managed to give Sam a confident smile and nodded before her nerves got the better of her, and she flitted down the hall.




The cafeteria was filled with its usual bustle and noise, but today everyone was talking about the fight. Upon entering the large room, Wyn was surprised when almost everyone stopped and looked at her. She felt momentarily frozen before the students returned to their gossip. From the not-so-subtle looks she was receiving, Wyn quickly realized she was in part the subject of said gossip.

Without any further hesitation, she took her place at her usual table. A small four seat table at the far end of the cafeteria, that no else ever came near. Typically, no one paid any attention to her, but of course today was different. She felt the stares and heard the whispers. But it seemed she wasn’t the sole subject of gossip, because before long Sam walked through the cafeteria doors. People seemed to cover their intrigued looks and gossip a little better than when Wyn had first appeared. However, Sam didn’t even seem to notice anyone else when he spotted her across the room. Before she realized what was happening, Sam was standing in front of her.

“Mind if sit here?”

“Yeah, I mean, No - No it’s -- umm, have a seat…” She cursed internally. Why did she have to be so damn awkward?

“But, uh… You should know you’re sitting with the school freak,” she released a gentle sigh.

“I know what it’s like to feel like a freak.”


He laughed, and Wyn felt her heart start to race again. Seriously, did she have arrhythmia or...

“So I take it Snyder didn’t expel you?”

“Nope. Just detention after school. I think Mike’s gonna get suspended.”

Wyn scoffed, “Don’t hold your breath…”

Sam’s brow furrowed and he tilted his head confused, “What do you mean?”

“Mike Thompson is the schools golden boy. Captain of Varsity Lacrosse. His Dad’s some hot shot lawyer, and buys the school something new every time Mike messes up. They’ve been looking the other way for years now.”

Sam face was just like hers when she realized that no good deed got rewarded at this school, “That sucks.” And then shrugged.

“I just can’t wait to graduate, go to college, and never come back here,” she said with the despondent tone not withheld. Sam’s face shifted, but he quickly resumed his smile. The spark didn’t reach his eyes like it had before. Wyn already missed the feeling.

“Yeah, you have that to look forward to! Where’d you get accepted?”


Wyn never actually got to have real connection with someone. It was an odd sensation. The sudden addition of Sam fucking Winchester to her small little world was startling, but in the same way it was like suddenly everything was sharper, clearer. Just close proximity to him made her feel comfortable in her own skin, which was new. She allowed a small smile to stretch the corners of her mouth,

“I did early admissions. I’m going to University of Washington. They’ve got a phenomenal Neuroscience program!”
“Neuroscience?” Sam’s eyes lit up with curiosity, “Wow! That’s-wow, I never would've guessed that!”
She furrowed her brow, “Why not?” Suddenly feeling self conscious.

Sam’s eyes widen realizing his mistake, “No, not like that! I just mean every other senior is majoring in psychology or communications or whatever. It’s great you’re studying something so... I dunno... cool,” he finished with a smile, dimples slaying her ability to form a coherent sentence. A warm bubble of pride expanded in her chest, and her cheeks flushed. She took a long sip from her soda. Trying to move through the uncomfortable feeling of being complimented.

“What about you? Any college plans?”

“Oh...” Sam looked down unrolling the brown paper bag that held his unimpressive lunch, “I was accepted to Stanford... they offered me a full ride.”
“Holy Crap!” She couldn’t hide her astonishment. He got into an Ivy League? No one else in their class had gotten into an Ivy League. It seemed getting to know Sam Winchester was like peeling back an onions layers. “That’s amazing! You pick a major?”
It was Sam’s turn to try and hide his embarrassment, “I haven’t actually accepted yet,” he exhaled sharply through his nose, “I actually haven’t told anyone either. I can’t tell my dad, he’d freak.”
Her head reeled back in shock. Sam was obviously smart if he got into Stanford. Any normal parent would be over the moon at their kid getting in, let alone on a full academic scholarship. Wyn suddenly felt guilty for asking, emphatically able to read his physical cues. She had unintentionally touched a nerve, and felt an overwhelming need to make it right,

“Sorry... if it’s a touchy subject, we can-“
“Nah, it’s fine. I brought it up,” he shifted, before taking a quick bite of his turkey sandwich. His face softened, looked up and their eyes met again. “My family’s a little weird. My dad he, uh,” Sam scratched the back of his head nervously, “he wants me to follow the family business.”
“And it’s not for you,” she finished for him, understanding.
“I just want something different, something normal,” then he released everything like a tap turning on.

Sam started opening up, which Wyn could tell he wasn’t able to do a lot, if ever. Her life sounded far less dramatic when she heard how he had been to so many different schools that he stopped counting, how they never stayed in one place too long until one day his dad would be the one waiting with a packed car and no warning, how if he were able to go to Stanford he had thought about going into Pre-Law, how his older brother, Dean, was the only reason he could deal with his dad while at the same time being driven absolutely crazy by said brother, and on top of it all he had missed out on so much.

Apparently, his dad had promised they could stay put for a while since Dean was old enough to watch over Sam alone. So it looked like Sam might be able to actually finish his senior year here. Wyn couldn’t keep down the excitement itching its way out.
“Great!” She burst out, then immediately regretted the decision. Her eyes bulged and her cheeks burned, “Sorry, Hah...” She saw a blush creep onto his face too, but he couldn’t hide the smile that broke across his face.
“So you pick a partner for that AP Bio project yet?” Sam asked running his hands through the hair dangling in front of his eyes and pushed it back.
Damn he’s cute!



Following lunch there were two more classes for the day. Wyn was delighted that now she could actually have someone she knew in class. Of course, she had seen Sam everyday for the past week, but she never allowed herself to stare too long. Afraid that someone would catch on.

But now, she found Sam was the one who kept staring. When she would glance to the desk next to her she was met with a dimpled smile and stunning eyes. To be honest, it was a feeling she could get use to. She couldn’t imagine why he would be staring. Maybe he was thankful to have someone on his side. Just from their initial conversation and the wild rumors, Sam really did seem to be in the same boat as her.

In AP Bio, David approached Sam before the class started and sheepishly thanked him for sticking up for him, then quickly made his way to his seat before Sam could say anything in response.

“He’s shy…” Wyn explained simply.

Their teacher, Ms. Teller, entered the room and promptly took attendance while asking each student if they had chosen their project partner for the semester. When Wyns name was called, she exchanged a smile with Sam, and informed her that she and Sam had agreed to be partners. All in all, each student had been paired up with the exception of David and a girl named Claire McCall. So they were paired up by default. It was a pretty good match. As the two of them hardly spoke to other students, but Wyn had noted they were both kind enough that they should be comfortable with each other.

By the time the bell rang, Wyn almost felt at home sitting next to Sam. And for the first time, Wyn was disappointed when the school day was over.




Principal Snyder stepped out into the twilight evening. The school parking lot empty with the exception of a couple cars, his included. His cold gaze scanned the grounds before landing on the old janitor leaving the side doors, and started toward him.


“Good evening Greg!”

“You too, sir! Working late?”

“Oh, yeah. Principals work is never done! You all done for the night?”

“Yes sir, just about walk home.”

“Let me give you a ride. It’s on the way.”

The janitor seemed surprised at the offer, “Well, uh, sure! Thank you sir, very kind of you.”

Within a minute, the two were driving off down the road. A soft rock song played through the radio. Greg sang along softly, tapping his knee in time with the music. Snyder kept his eyes straight ahead. Silent. After a mile, the principal turned off the main road onto a dirt path. The janitor peered at him curiously.

“Where we going? My place is a little further down.”

“I need to make a call,” he placed the car in park and reached under his seat. Before the janitor could ask another question, in the blink of an eye, he clutched his throat as blood poured out. Snyder wiped his knife on the  pants of his victim, lifted the retrieved item, and held it against the fresh warm blood.

Greg shook and twitched, then the light in his eyes was gone. Withdrawing the sinister looking bowl, paying no more attention to the corpse in his passenger seat, Snyder whispered the magical incantation, his black eyes gleaming.

“Sir… you told me to alert you to any changes. Samuel Winchester and Bronwyn Evans have… had an encounter.”


“Not yet. There was an incident. The Winchester boy got involved, and she stepped in. Shall I--”


“Understood. I will continue to watch them closely.”


“No, Father. I won’t interfere… until you give the order.”




Chapter Text

Weeks passed. Sam and Wyn had fallen into a comfortable cycle. They’d greet each other in the morning, then join up at lunch. After, they’d have the final two classes of the day together. In that time, Wyn started to come out of her shell. But only around Sam.

The gossip about the two school freaks teaming up died down after a little while. People were distracted, talking about any other bit of teenage drama they could sink their teeth into. Most notably the disappearance of the older school janitor and the wild animal attacks the month before. Two Eagle High Alumni were killed. Wyn didn’t know the former students that were killed, though she knew there was at least one younger sibling that still attending.

She did, however, know the missing janitor. Greg Mills. On a particularly rough day freshman year, Wyn was crying in the hall sitting in front of her locker, when the kindly man introduced himself. Basically, he told her not to let any of the “spoiled rotten punkass brats” bother her. That she had a bright future, and she shouldn’t waste a second on them.

After that, they didn’t speak much, but Wyn always smiled and waved when they passed each other in the halls. He always wished her well when the holiday breaks came. Kids always called him “Old Greg” as a joke. He seemed content with the nickname. Sadly, most students didn’t take the news of his disappearance too hard. Everyone too focused on what trouble they were going to get into for Halloween.


One particularly brisk Friday in October, Wyn sat reading a book in the cafeteria at what was now their table. Sam joined her, “Whatcha reading?”

The girl showed him the front cover of her thick hardback book.

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire ?”

“Have you read them?”

He shook his head.

“You have to! You’d love ‘em, it’s right up your alley. This is the fourth one. I’m re-reading them since the first movie comes out next month! It’s gonna be epic, I can’t wait!”

Sam chuckled, “I love it when you let your geek out.”

Wyn blushed, but smiled back at him, “I’ll let you borrow my copy if you promise to take good care of it.”

Sam raised his left hand and made a cross over his heart with his right. She marked her place then placed the book down. The ease at which she had been able to open up to Sam and him to her was surprising. After only a short while they had become almost dependent on one another.

“So,” Sam started with a nervous tone, “I was wondering. Maybe after school, we could… I don’t know - hang out?”

“OH!” Her mind whirled with the realization that he actually wanted to spend time with her. Outside of school. Alone . The past weeks had been filled with cautious optimism about their new friendship. But Wyn couldn’t deny that she felt strongly about Sam already. Now her cautious optimism was shifting into full on hope that Sam might possibly feel the same…

“I mean-- we don't have to-- if you’ve… got plans already,” He lowered his gaze.

“No! I don’t! Well, actually, I do… I’m babysitting. My neighbors work late sometimes during the week, so I watch their little girl until they get home.”

“Oh. Okay. Sure, no that’s cool,” Sam nodded quickly.

“You could come over though! I can check with my aunt, I’m sure she’d be cool with it.”

“Yeah?” his eyes sparkled brightly.

“As long as you don’t mind hanging out with an 8-year-old.”




The final bell rung and students swarmed out the front doors. Joyous at the weekend ahead of them with endless possibilities. Sam stepped outside holding the door for Wyn. A simple gesture, but it didn’t go unnoticed by the young teen.

Sam smiled radiantly, “To your place?”


The pair made their way away from the school into the small town. Wyn had taken to walking to and from school each day. Between her and her aunt they couldn’t afford a second car. She had a bike once, but she left one day freshman year, only to discover her chain lock had been cut and her bike was gone. Originally, Wyn had tried saving up her babysitting money to get a new one, but it ended up being spent on groceries on months when money was tight.

If Sam noticed their meager route, he didn’t say anything. For which, she was grateful. It wasn’t like she was completely destitute. After the fire a sizeable life insurance fund had been granted to Wyn. Her father, though still alive, was in no condition to care for their finances or the land that their family owned, so official ownership passed to her. An executor was managing the money and the property until she was able to claim responsibility. Wyn would become quite well off, but it wasn’t something she was in a hurry for. They got along fine. Her aunt had been insistent on not using any of her money for the house.

“That’s for your college fund! It’s important for your future.”

Before long, Wyn and Sam walked up the driveway to enter the side entrance that led to the kitchen. She glanced at Sam who was admiring the house with subtle appreciation. The thought occurred to her: Sam hadn’t had a true home in his whole life. Or at least that was the impression she got.

“So my aunt says it’s fine to have you over on one condition… you have to stay for dinner.” Wyn dropped her backpack on the kitchen table, and Sam followed suit.

“No complaints here. I could use a meal that wasn’t previously frozen.”

Wyn chose to allow the comment to linger without any further notice. Through their many conversations up to this point, she quickly realized Sam was very insecure about his homelife. Sam idolized his big brother Dean, though he’d never put it quite like that, and… butted heads with his Dad to say the least. If he wasn’t going to pry too much into the more painful parts of her past, then she wasn’t going to pry into something that made him uncomfortable.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” She asked, changing the subject.

“What do ya got?”

“Ummm,” She opened the door and peered in, “water, lemonade, and orange soda.”

Sam crinkled his face in displeasure, “Lemonade, definitely!”

Wyn gave an exaggerated gasp, “You don’t like orange soda?”

He shook his head with a smile, his hair swishing slightly, as he took the cool drink from her hand.

“Sam, Sam, Sam,” she shook her head, “here I thought you were perfect,” she pulled back the tab on the can, and shut the door.


Their eyes locked. Sam's eyes full of curiosity. Wyn opened her mouth to reply, but nothing came out. The sudden sound of the doorbell made them both jump slightly.

Saved by the bell .

Without a word, Wyn rushed out of the kitchen, through the living room, and opened the front door to reveal a smiling 8-year-old.

“Hi Wyn!”

“Hey, Molly. Come on in.”

Molly Jefferson was short for her age. She had dark skin, round cheeks that dimpled when she smiled, and black curly hair tied into two poofy pigtails on either side. Molly entered heading straight for the living room where she normally sat to do her homework, her Powerpuff Girls backpack bouncing lightly as she walked. She stopped short when she saw Sam standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

Sam gave a small wave with a gentle smile, “Hi. I’m Sam.”

“Ooooo you have a boy over!” Molly drew out the words calling Wyn out on her scandalous actions. She knew enough to know that boys weren’t allowed to be in the house when no adults were home.

“Yeah, I know. I see him too!” Wyn stuck her tongue out playfully, and Molly giggled.

The little girl placed her bag on the couch, and peered at Sam discerningly.

“I’m Molly, and I’m gonna be a ballerina for Halloween!”

Sam glanced at Wyn with a knowing smile, “Well, Molly, you’re gonna be the prettiest ballerina ever!”

Molly nodded in agreement, her approval cemented.

“Alright you. Homework. Now.”

“But it’s Friday, and I wanna snack.”

“And I’ll get you one. But first, how much homework do you have?”


All three managed to find a comfy spot to sit, enjoy their snacks, and focus on their individual work. Both Sam and Wyn ever the overachievers always did their work early, a habit Wyn was trying to instill in Molly. Luckily, Molly only protested slightly. The young girl began working on a creative writing assignment, and Sam was working on the outline for their next project.

Wyn, however, had reread the same sentence a dozen times, before closing her book abandoning her efforts to focus. Her words to Sam were buzzing in her mind.

The look on his face… she could feel the one good thing in her life begin to unravel. There was no way Sam had feelings for her. He was alone, just like her, and all he wanted was a friend. If he wanted a girlfriend, he wouldn’t have that much of a challenge. He may have been labeled a “freak”, but teenage girls were predictable. Dark and mysterious guys were always attractive.

Sam should be with someone like… well anyone besides her. Wyn felt her heart clench tightly at the mental image of Sam smiling then leaning into kiss the beautiful faceless girl of her nightmarish fantasy. Which only increased her wallowing in self-pity.

“You okay?”

“Huh?” Wyn shook her head out of her mental fog.

“You, uh, look… you seem upset,” his voice laced with surprising concern.

“Oh, nothing. Just zoned out ya know?” Wyn cast her gaze down and retreated inside herself. She knew it was only a matter of time before something happened, and she lost her only friend. Blinking away tears, Wyn began cleaning up the remains from Molly’s snack and her abandoned homework. In her desperate attempt to pretend like everything was fine, she never noticed Sams concerned gaze following her around the room.

Time ticked on and Molly was watching cartoons, having finished her homework, when the doorbell rang.


The girl ran to the door, flung open the door, and leaped into the arms of the tall dark skinned man filling up most of the doorway.

“Hey there Princess,” Mr. Jefferson squeezed Molly tight, “you been a good girl?”

“Yes, sir, just ask Winnie!”

“She has indeed. Finished her homework and everything!”

The man's gaze turned to Sam. To many, Mr. Jefferson might seem like an intimidating man. Tall, broad muscled shoulders, and big hands tough from calluses. But they might not have been intimidated when they saw how much he got into tea parties with his daughter.

“And who is this fine young man?” He spoke in a deep rumbling voice.

“Sam. Sam Winchester, sir,” he offered his hand.

“Winchester, right,” realization washing over the mans face, “Your brother just started workin’ for me down at the garage! Corey Jefferson. Nice to meet you, Sam.”

“You too! Dean’s told me all about you. Says you’re a wiz with classic cars.”

“Well I prefer the term ‘master’, but yes I am!”

“Daddy’s gonna be a ballerina too! We’re going trick or treating!”

Sam and Wyn stifled their chuckles, but exchanged amused looks.

“Don’t judge, man!” he pointed to Sam, “Just wait till you’re grown, and got a little princess all your own. You gonna be wrapped around her little finger, trust me!”

Sam shrugged acquiescing. Wyn handed off Molly’s bag to her Dad, then duo stepped out to cross to the other side of the cul-de-sac, before heading into their two story craftsman home.

Wyn shut the door, and turned to Sam, “So, how are you in the kitchen?”


Wyn ushered Sam into the kitchen and gave him tasks in order to start prepping for a spaghetti and meat sauce dinner. Water was set on the stove to boil, and all ingredients set out on the counter. She began chopping onions and garlic, while Sam browned ground beef in a skillet. Wyn was thankful that Sam seemed to be focused on the task she had given him. He hadn’t pushed any further about her odd behavior.

Their movements around the kitchen were minimal. But they seemed to move within the same bubble. Keeping close proximity to each other, though neither seemed to be aware of it. One would look at the other, then quickly avert their eyes when their eyes met. By the time the homemade sauce was simmering and the pasta was in the boiling pot, her Aunt walked through the door.

“Welcome home, Aunt Stacy!” The older woman still wore her scrubs from the hospital, and walked straight to Wyn and gave her a kiss on the forehead. Then she turned to a suddenly nervous looking Sam.

“You must be the famous Sam I’ve heard so much about.”

Sam stuck out his hand, “Sam Winchester. Nice to meet you, Ms. Evans.”

“Bronwyn you’re right, he is cute.”
Sams mouth dropped, before quickly shutting again. He let out a nervous chuckle. Wyn stared at her aunt in horror.

“What? No I didn’t say-- not that you aren’t- I just that…” She trailed off helplessly. Her face was burning and she could feel tears start to prickle her eyes once more. “I’llberightbackhereSamcanyouputthisonthetableokaythanks,” she managed in a single breath before leaving the room.
Wyn made a beeline for her aunts room, knowing she would be close behind, and flung herself onto the quilted duvet, and sobbed out once in distress. Her aunt entered the room and closed the door quickly.

“You alright there kiddo?” Stacy went to her walk-in closet and began changing out of her hospital attire. She had grown accustomed to her nieces dramatics. A result of Wyn dealing with anxiety since she was a child.

“Why did you say that?” the sound muffled facedown, before flopping on her back and throwing her arm over her face, “He doesn’t know I like him!”
“Wyn honey, I was just teasing,” her aunts calming voice came from the closet, “Calm down… besides,” She popped her out with a smirk, “I might just be helping you out.”
“He doesn’t--” Wyns breath shuddered and her lip trembled, “like me, not like that. We’re just friends.”
“Right…” her aunt, now dressed in her house clothes, crossed her arms, the skepticism rolling off her.
“Would you just please be cool just this once? He’s the only friend I have and I really…” She almost didn’t want to form the words.

“You really what sweetie?” She sat next to Wyn and put her arm around her gently. Wyn allowed her head the drop sideways to rest on her aunts shoulder.

“I really don’t want to be alone again…”

“All right sweetheart. Don’t worry, I’ll manage some damage control. But I don’t think you need to be too afraid about this one.”

Before Wyn could even question her, her aunt rose and left them room. She stood shakily, looking at her reflection on the vanity next to the closet. Just breathe… it’ll all be okay. It’s just Sam. Nothing to be scared of.


Dinner went smoothly, much to Wyn’s surprise. Aunt Stacy had led them in grace, before engaging in light conversation with Sam. Asking him questions about school, his interests, and his family. Wyn had the forethought to tell her aunt that Sam’s mother had died when he was a baby, just like her. It was something they had shared, and understood that it wasn’t something that either of them wanted to discuss in depth. Wyn certainly didn’t want to discuss the gruesome details, or the horrific impact it had on her father. Thankfully, Aunt Stacy had the wherewithal to not discuss family tragedy at the dinner table.

“Wyn tells me you have an older brother?”

“Yeah, my brother Dean. He works at Jefferson Auto in town.” the hint of pride in Sam's voice evident.

“Oh yes, Corey Jefferson is our neighbor, just across the street!”
“Yeah, I met him when he came to pick up Molly earlier.”

“And what does your father do? Will I get to meet him soon?”

There was a slight awkwardness in the air. Sam’s disposition shifted from comfortably pleasant to sheepish.

“My Dad travels a lot. Sales work,” he shrugged.

“That must be hard. Not getting to see him everyday,” empathy and understanding laced her voice.

Sam looked unsure. Like he didn’t know how to answer. He nodded, “Yeah. But I’m used to it I guess.”

“What brought your family to Oregon?”

“I really wanted to be able to stay in one place to finish up High School, so that’s why Dad got us a place here.”

“It’s just you and Dean at home?”

“Yeah most days.”

“And how old is he?”


Aunt Stacy paused a moment then nodded.

“I see. Well, if you boys ever need a good home cooked meal you are more than welcome in our home. I was praying for a good person to come into Bronwyn’s life, and now that God answered my prayer, I’m more than happy to leave the light on for you or your brother.”

Sams expression flipped. He appeared taken aback by the middle aged woman's warm words, as if he wasn’t expecting such a response. His face reflective of inhibited gratitude as he looked between the two women, “Thank you, that’s very kind of you.”


They finished dinner with full bellies and hearty smiles. Sam and Wyn cleared the table, Wyn washed while Sam dried. She apologized for her aunts overt religious talk, but he dismissed her concerns. Sam had mentioned that while he wasn’t exactly big on church, he did try to pray everyday. That had surprised Wyn, but at the same time gave her an odd sense of comfort.

Then, a knock at the door announced Deans arrival to pick up Sam. Her aunt was the first to the door to greet him. Their voices carried into the kitchen so the teens quickly wrapped up their cleaning. When they entered the living room, Wyn almost stopped short when her eyes fell on Dean Winchester. She wasn’t sure what she had pictured when Sam described his tough, sarcastic, mechanic of a brother… but, Wyn’s mind was suddenly filled with the image of a Dean in coveralls hanging at the waist, bare chest smothered in grease, wielding a long phallic tool spread out on the hood of car like something out of playgirl. Beautiful genes must run in the Winchester Family.

Dean playfully flirted with Aunt Stacy, making her giggle like a school-girl. Wyn figured that the only way he managed to calm nervous parents of his dates, was with his very effective charm.

“OH! I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere!” Aunt Stacy said, as if just remembering something.

“I’ll count the seconds.” Dean winked playfully, as the older woman began giggling under her voice. “And who might you be?” Dean now directed the full amount of his charm at Wyn.

She chuckled with Sam, “My name is Bronwyn, but please call me Wyn.”

“It certainly was a win for my brother meeting you--” Sam coughed over his brothers words. “You ready to go Sammy?”

The glare on Sams face was peculiar. She was just about to ask what he meant, when her aunt returned, holding a large container holding the contents of their dinner.

“Here you go boys! As a welcome gift. And my offer stands: anytime you boys needs a warm meal, just let us know.”

”Thanks!” Dean took the offered leftovers, “I might just take you up on that. Let’s hit the road, Sam.”




They went to leave, and Sam turned back to look over his shoulder his hair dangling in front of his eyes and waved. He opened the passenger door to the Impala, sat down, and Dean shot a shit eating grin at his brother.

“Just friends, huh?”

“Shut up Dean!”

“Aww come on why don’t you ask her out? She’s obviously got the hots for ya.”

“You’re crazy dude, besides I can’t just ask her out point blank.”

“Why not? Works for me.”

“Dude, just… No. Wyn’s… different. Besides she hasn’t even kissed a guy before. Doubt she wants me to be her first.”

“Sammy, allow me to impart some brotherly wisdom to you. When a girl introduces you to her family,” he held up one finger, “she doesn’t flirt with me - the obviously more attractive one,” a second finger raised and Sam rolled his eyes, “AND she can tolerate your nerdy freak ass - she wants you.” The third finger raised, followed by quickly tussling his little brothers floppy hair.

Sam smacked his hand away, but furrowed his brow in thoughtful consideration. The remainder of their ride was uneventful with only the sounds of classic rock playing along with Dean singing along softly. Sam sat silently until they pulled up to their townhouse apartment. Deans words played over in his head as he analyzed the evening moment by moment. Scrounging up some courage, he pulled out his phone, pulled up Wyn’s number, and started texting.


S: What are you doing tomorrow?

He held his breath watching the screen.

W: Nothing…

He exhaled quickly, and closed his eyes. He could do this.

W: Why? He saw her second message come through, then carefully worded his response.

S: I wanted to spend the day with you. Maybe we could go to the mall?

W: Yeah, of course :-D I’d love that!


By the time Sam’s head hit the pillow, he didn’t feel any closer to a conclusion about how Wyn might feel about him, but he was smiling at the thought of the next day.




“What are you gonna be for Halloween?” Wyn asked as they walked around the upper level of the simple shopping mall. People were bustling around, children screaming or laughing in the play area on the lower level, and fall decorations adorned all over. But you could see that they were already starting to set up ‘Santa’s Winter Wonderland’.

“I’m not big on Halloween.”

“Why? You too cool?”

“Nah, I just think it’s kinda lame.”

“You’re like the Ebeneezer Scrooge of Halloween, you know that?” She nudged Sam's arm with her own.

“You think three ghosts will haunt me?” Sam joked dryly.

“So you never went trick or treating? Never stayed up late watching scary movies?”

Sam scoffed, “Not really the apple pie upbringing.”

“Well, I will be lame and staying at home. I… I was kinda hoping we could hang out. Ya know, watch some scary movies since I promised Aunt Stacy I’d pass out candy to Trick-or-Treaters. I know it’s on a school night, but I know other people are gonna be staying out late too. I’d be surprised if any seniors make it in the next day!”

“Well, we could do that. I wouldn’t mind hanging out at your place. Popcorn and lame monsters movies could be kinda fun,” Sam shrugged awkwardly and Wyn could swear she saw a nervous look to his eye when his bangs flipped to the side.

“Cool,” Wyns grin was so wide she could feel the pinch in her cheeks, “Hope you don’t mind if I dress up! I told Molly she could stop by our place first so she would get to see me dressed as Hermione.”

“Lemme guess - a Harry Potter thing?”


She had managed to bring the first book with her to let him borrow. Currently, it was sitting in the backseat of his brothers car. The auburn haired teen couldn’t hold in the excitement of being able to ride the beautiful classic car. Dean had given Sam very stern warnings about what he would do to him if anything happened to the Impala.

“You’re not one much for parties are you?” Sam asked. Some of their classmates walked by them, then promptly began whispering. Neither of them payed them heed.

“Not so much. Me in social situations usually leads to awkwardness and tears. No good for anyone involved. Besides, senior class tradition is to go camping out at Crater Lake on Halloween night. And I definitely wouldn’t want to be out there this year.”

Sam looked perplexed, “Why?”

“You heard about the animal attacks, right?”

Sam shook his head, but his interest was piqued.

“Two people were killed last month. It’s kinda sad, they graduated from Eagle Point two years ago I think? Anyway, they were camping out by Crater Lake, and were attacked. I read that Park Rangers think it was a wolf attack, but they keep track of all resident packs. So now they’re worried it might be a lone rabid wolf, since they’ve been able to track its attacks from Washington. Another body was found just a couple weeks ago.”

Sam's face shifted seriously. Wyn could practically hear the wheels turning in his head, but she had no idea what could possibly be going through his head.

“When did they find the first two?”

Wyn sifted mentally through the information she had read. She remembered that the attacks seemed to line up with the lunar cycle, but she couldn’t see how that was relevant, “I think right about the same time you started school here. Beginning of September maybe?”

“Yeah, you definitely shouldn’t go camping,” he spoke oddly, an almost 180 degree flip from his earlier playful attitude.

“Well, thank you for your support of my antisocial behavior,” Wyn joked.

“Oh well,” Sam switched gears, “purely selfish intent. Wanna keep you all to myself.” He smiled casually. Wyn couldn’t hold back the extreme heat creeping up her face and neck, but this time combined with a warm bubbling sensation in her core… that she didn’t mind.




“So what do ya think?” Sam sat across from Dean in their humble apartment, “Werewolf?” Old newspapers and printed copies of lunar charts from the library spread out on the cheap table in the kitchen. They had managed to snag a copy of the coroner's report confirming their fears. The hearts of the victims had been ripped out.

“Lunar cycle lines up,” Dean replied, “Each body was found on or day after a full moon. I can call Dad to be sure, but ya know if it looks like a duck, and rips out people's hearts like a duck...” Dean huffed out in exhaustion. After Sam had gotten back from his date - “It’s not a date, Dean!” - he had told him all about the information he got from Wyn. They had been up all night, going through the research they had managed to gather before the library closed.

“Look. You still have a couple days. You’ll be able to track it down,” Sam spoke before picking up another old article from four months prior.

“I’ll be able to track down? I think you mean ‘we’.”

“Dean, I can’t I have school!”

“You’re kidding me right?”

The look on Sam’s face told him that, no, he wasn’t.

“Sammy don’t ya think this a bit more important?”

“Please, Dean, can’t you do this on your own?”

Deans gaze pierced straight through him, “This is about that chick isn’t it?”

“No! It’s—it’s more than just Bronwyn okay? I finally have a chance to stay in one spot, and I really don’t want the whole school to find out I’m even weirder than they think.”

“Sam, no one is going to find out. We’re professionals okay? We go to the hunting grounds at sunup, find the bastard, pop him full of silver, you’ll be back in ‘Nerd Girls’ arms by lunch. Easy as pie!” Dean smirked confidently.

Sams jaw tightened at his brother’s words. Nothing in their life was ever easy. Hunting made things very very complicated, that’s why he wanted out so bad.

“Fine. One day. We have to take care of this before Wednesday.”

“Duh, dude. Full moon is Wednesday. Generally we try to kill the bloodthirsty monster before they get the chance to hulk out. Why? You got other plans?”

Sam averted his eyes, and coughed.




Monday came too soon. Students were distracted. Far too eager with their plans of mayhem for Halloween. Add in the fact that it was actually a full moon on Halloween night, just fed into people’s excitement. Wyn sat in first period distracted with worry. Sam hadn’t shown up for school. She tried texting him, but he hadn’t responded. Of course, he was probably just sick, but that didn’t stop a foreboding feeling in her gut.

The class sat working on a pop quiz the teacher had so kindly decided to spring on them first thing on a Monday morning, when the tone from the PA Intercom sounded.

Bronwyn Evans, please report to the principal’s office. Bronwyn Evans to the principal’s office.

The class let out a conspiratory “ooo” obviously assuming she was in trouble. But Wyn was simply perplexed. What the principal possibly want to see her about, she hadn’t the foggiest. She gathered her things and the teacher told her she could come by after school to finish the quiz. Then, she made her way down the quiet halls towards the front office, while apprehension and confusion filled her up. By the time she turned the handle to the principal’s door she was shaking. She found herself wishing that Sam was there.

“Miss Evans, please have a seat.”

The teen sat, her bag in her lap, and immediately started chewing her nails. Her unfortunate nervous habit. The principal peered at her, his face indiscernible. She averted her eyes staring at the name placard on his desk.

“So,” the principal smiled at her, “how are you doing?”


“It’s my duty as principal to make sure my students are succeeding. I just wanted to check on you, and see how you’ve been lately?”

“Why?” She was officially confused. He had never taken an interest in her before. No one had before Sam.

“I know you’ve been a bit of a longer during your time here at Eagle Point High. But I’ve been hearing you’ve been spending deal of time with Sam Winchester, is that true?”

Wyn furrowed her brow, “Yeah, I guess I have… he’s my friend.”

“So you’d say you two are,” he paused, “close?”

The question made her uneasy, “Well, he’s my only friend, and I’m the only one he talks to so... yes?”

“Good, good, that’s wonderful. We always want to encourage our students to,” he searched for the word, “have a support system of sorts. Have someone you know you can count on.”


“I just think you would do each other good. No one wants to be alone after all.”

The two stared at each other. An uncomfortable eerie feeling settled over Wyn.

“Can I go now?”

“Yes, of course Miss Evans. That’ll be all.”

Wyn jumped to her feet at the dismissal. Her bag slipped from her hands and spilled over onto the floor. Flustered she dropped to her knees gathering her belongings as quickly as possible.
“Crap,” she muttered.

“Hurry along now Miss Evans!”

She held her tongue and rolled her eyes. Angry frustration burned her cheeks, then her eyes caught something reflective under the principal’s desk. She reached out, her fingers touched the cool metal round object. When she held it in her hand she recognized it. It was a gold pocket watch.

“This is Mr. Mills’ watch!”

Greg Mills, the janitor, had been very proud of the watch. It was a gift from the school board as a thank you marking his work at the school for thirty years. She popped open the watch, and recognized the engraving with his name he had shown off to her one day.


“Greg Mills?” She stood staring appalled at the principal, “you know the missing janitor that’s worked here for over thirty years?”

“Oh my yes!” He shook his head as if just remembering the man existed, “he must have dropped it when he was in here cleaning last. Best turn it into lost and found on your way back to class.”

Wyn felt her stomach drop. It was as if he couldn’t care less about a missing member of his staff. Hurriedly, she gathered the remainder of her things and left the office, pocket watch still clenched in her hand. The bell hadn’t rung yet, so she made her way to her locker. Knowing that things tended to get stolen from lost and found, she wanted to keep the watch safe. At least until Old Greg was found. He didn’t have any family, so she knew she was probably the only one who gave a crap.

Gently, she placed the pocket watch into one of her knit gloves, and placed it in the back for safe keeping. Then she closed her eyes briefly, offering up a silent prayer for his safe return. She closed the locker and latched her lock, when a sudden chill filled the air.

“Geez, you think the school could afford better heating,” she shivered, her breathe visibly hanging in the air. The cheap fluorescent lights flickered over head, then a figure caught her attention in the periphery of her vision. She turned her head quickly, peering down the hall curiously. If she didn’t know any better, she would have sworn someone had just been standing at the end of the hall then vanished.

The flickering stopped. The cold air soon warmed. Wyn shook herself of the odd feeling that someone was watching her, when the bell tolled signalling lunch. Without thinking on her experience, she made her way to the cafeteria knowing that unfortunately today she would be eating alone.

Chapter Text




“Hey Bronwyn!”

Wyn jumped, shutting her locker with more force than she intended, and turned startled at the voice next to her. Instantly, she relaxed.

“Wendy! Hi, didn’t see you there.”

Next to her stood Wendy Brook Hill. Looking at Wendy Brook Hill was like looking into the sun, in that she was painfully, and unbelievably gorgeous. Long flowy blonde hair, intense green eyes, golden tanned skin, and smile revealing sparkling whites. One couldn’t even argue that looks weren’t everything, because Wendy was also Class President, President of the National Honor Society, Head of Volunteer Projects, and was on track to be Valedictorian. Oh, and that summer she had been crowned Miss Oregon. However, as much Wyn wanted to hate the popular girl, she couldn’t really find fault with her. She would at least acknowledge Wyn in the halls.

“So this Friday after school, NHS is having a meeting for the canned food drive. You gonna co-chair again with me this year?”

“Yeah, sure. As long as you don’t mind.”

“Of course, I don’t mind! You’re way more organized than half the people on the board,” she playfully rolled her eyes. There was a reason she was the most popular girl in school, she was nice to everyone she spoke with.

“Thanks. Yeah, I’ll be there.”

“Excellent!” Wendy smiled in response. Wyn thought that would be the end of their interaction, but the blonde remained in front of her, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet.

“Anything else?” Wyn asked with a nervous smile.

“I’m so glad you asked! Yes! You know a bunch of the seniors are going camping at Crater Lake tonight, and I wanted to see if you and Sam were gonna be there?”

Wyn was surprised, and if she was honest a little bit flattered.

“Oh! I didn’t think we -- um, I can’t actually. My aunts working the late shift at the ER, and I told her I’d pass out candy at home.”

“Ah, man that sucks.” To her credit, Wendy’s slight disappointment did seem genuine. “So… is Sam gonna be with you or…?”

Suddenly, she didn’t like where this conversation was headed. Despite her normal gentle nature, Wyn felt the foreign feeling of jealousy rear its ugly head inside her.

“Uh, well…. I don’t know. We had made plans, yeah… but I’ll let Sam know he’s still welcome.”

“Definitely!” Wendy smiled brightly again, “So are you and Sam…” she trailed off the inflection obviously implied, but Wyn fought to feign ignorance.

“Are we what?” her voice barely above a whisper.

“Ya know, together? I mean, you guys are practically joined at the hip. I was just wondering if you guys were dating.”

“I--” Wyns heart began to beat rapidly, “I don’t know?” She felt utterly lost.

“So… he’s like, single?”

No no no no no…

“Uh--” Wyn struggled, articulating became impossible. Wendy’s gaze was hopeful. Before she was forced to answer, the bell rang signaling for students to make their way to first period.

“Gotta run. Mr. Nelson will flip if I’m late, but you’ll tell Sam? About tonight?”

Wyn nodded silently acquiescing, and Wendy smiled brightly again with a quick thanks before scurrying down the hall.

Sound seemed to vanish. The faceless girl she had imagined kissing Sam took the image of Wendy, and she felt sick. Her vision blurred, her balance wobbled.The idea that Sam might prefer Wendy dominated her thoughts. After all, he hadn’t been at school that week, and his texts had been brief and evasive, citing some family business he had to take care of. Maybe he was getting tired of hanging out with her. But, he had texted her that morning saying he hadn’t forgotten about their plans.

Wyn battled with what to do. Begrudgingly, she pulled out her phone to text Sam, while walking down the hall. It wasn’t fair for her to keep Sam to herself. He needed to know if he had better options, regardless if it was killing her.


W: hey u comin 2 school 2day?

S: no im really sorry. this fam thing is taking longer than I thought

W: :( bummer. hey u kno wendy brooke hill?

S: the beauty queen that does morning announcements?

The Auburned hair girl winced at that. Of course he knew who Wendy was. Every boy at Eagle Point did.

W: yeah. she asked if we were goin 2 the lake w/ class 2nite. i told i couldn't but she asked about you…

S: me? why?

She took a deep breath and plunged forward. He warranted the truth from her and nothing less.

W: think she wanted 2 c u there

S: oh. well tell her ive already got plans :)

An unabashed squeal escaped her, hope and excitement replacing the nauseating anxiety.

W: so we’re still on for 2nite at my place?

S: definitely as soon as dean and i finish this

Wyn smiled as she looked at the screen, shaking her head in mild disbelief. Maybe Sam didn’t care if the Wendy Brooke Hill had a crush on him. The warm feeling of hope that blossomed within her, while still new, was starting to become more familiar, thanks to Sam Winchester.




The living room at the Evans house was colorfully decked out in fall decor. A collection of imperfectly carved jack-o-lanterns sat spread out over the front porch. Wyn had fluffed the pillows on the sofa five times, and changed out the movies she had chosen for the evening at least twice. Everything had to be perfect.

Aunt Stacy barreled into the living room, scrambling for her keys, already running late.

“Alright, I’ll be home late. I want you in bed by the time I get home. Tell Sam he is welcome to stay the night, but on the sofa! No funny business young lady!”

“Oh my God, stop!”

“He may be a gentleman, but make sure he knows that ‘No’ means ‘No’”

Wyn’s face burned white hot with embarrassment, “You should go you’re gonna be late!”

“Okay, Okay, Okay, there’s a twenty on the fridge for pizza, and Wyn honey,” Stacy swung her bag over her shoulder and held her nieces face, “Have fun.” With a kiss to the young girls forehead, she crossed herself, and offered a silent prayer she was gone.

A deep sigh released from the teen as she purveyed the room. Looking for anything further she needed to prepare. She figured she would order the pizza in a few minutes, after changing. So she sprinted up the steps, knowing that Sam could be there any minute.

Laid out on her bed was her costume she had worked so hard in putting together. Quickly she stripped her clothes from the day, went to grab the skirt, but stopped briefly.

Slowly, Wyn turned to her full length mirror next to her desk. Her reflection looked back at her. She lowered her gaze examining her body. Her plain blue cotton panties and simple white underwire bra her only cover. Running her hands down her side, she poked at the little bit of a pooch on her belly. Her hips had a little bit of softness as well, but it all seemed to accent the hourglass shape. She peered down at her chest. Not quite Victoria’s Secret model, but she figured C-cup was nothing to complain about. Taking in the whole picture once more, she couldn’t help but wonder… what would Sam think?

Without any further distraction she shook herself from her thoughts, and proceeded to dress quickly. An uncommon smile of self confidence graced her lips. Then she took a look at the final product and smiled wide. She managed to pull off Hermione Granger pretty well. Her hair wasn’t quite as frizzy, but good enough. A few minutes later pizza was ordered, and she popped in Night of the Living Dead . Even if Sam didn’t like horror movies, she figured a classic was a safe bet.

The teen sat on the couch, pulled out her cell and found Sam’s number.


W to S 7:32 pm : hey im excited for 2 nite, when u getting here?

Nothing to do now, but wait. She settled in. Getting up after a brief moment to answer the call of the first trick or treaters of the night.

W to S 7:45 pm : i never understood how ppl got caught by the slow zombies lol


More time passed. Sam was probably just running late. Dean would drop him off soon. The doorbell rang again, and Molly stood beaming, with her father… also dressed as a ballerina. Apparently the young girl had insisted, but he said he drew the line at tights. Wyn chuckled, complimenting Molly on her tutu and ballet shoes.

“You look just like Hermione!” Molly smiled brightly at her upon examining her costume closely. Wyn was sure to give her extra candy. When the two left to continue on their candy mission, the teen waived wishing them a fun night, closed the door and returned to her seat on the couch.

W to S 8:15 pm : molly came by with her dad, check it out lol *pic attached*

The credits started to roll on the black and white film. Wyn ejected the movie, and decided the next one would be a favorite of hers. Hocus Pocus . Virgin jokes, talking cats, and Bette Midler made for a wonderful combination. The three sisters were just being hung from the tree when the doorbell rang. Instead of trick or treaters, the pizza delivery boy stood on her doorstep looking unamused to be working on Halloween. Wyn took pity on the poor guy, and told him to keep the rest of the twenty as tip.

The delivery car drove away, and more costumed children approached with their candy bags already bulging. She smiled brightly, sure to give each child equal portions, then waved them off with a “Happy Halloween”. Before she closed the door, she peered up at the bright full moon shining down from the clear sky. Perfect for a night like this. Turning back inside, she placed the pizza on the coffee table, plopped down, and took a big bite from the pepperoni half.

Sam still hadn’t arrived. Her face fell when she saw he hadn’t responded either. She texted him once again.  


W to S 8:31 pm : pizza is here come and feast


More and more kids came and went with smiles, but progressingly sleepy eyes.


W to S 8:54 pm : hey popcorn & pizzas gettin cold where r u?


Wyn continued to wait… there was a long break when no kids came, then she got one final straggler dressed as Batman. She gave him extra candy for good measure.


W to S 9:33 pm : think i just had the last of the trick or treaters… u still coming?


Maybe something had happened.


W to S 10:15 pm : please text me when u get this


Wyn was panicking. Various scenarios ran through her anxious mind.

W to S 11:11 pm : im really worried, r u okay?

W to S 11:41 pm : ???


The night had long fallen quiet. The anxiety ridden teen had utilized all the movie distractions she could muster. Deep disappointment washed over her. She had wanted to badly for tonight to happen. Life wasn’t quite as overwhelming, her future seemed less intimidating, all thanks to Sam. Even if he only wanted friendship…

Finally, Wyn conceded that Sam wasn’t coming. Hopefully, she would see him tomorrow, and find out what happened. She released a long sigh, before picking up her phone once again. The battery was close to dying, and she was quite tired. She thought of Wendy’s kind offer earlier, and texted her.


W to WBH 12:56 am : hey wendy hope u had a good nite, mine suckd should have took u up on ur offer.


A forlorn smile curved her lips, but stopped at Wendy’s next message.


WBH to W 12:57 am : wont go into deets but sam can fill u in, good thing he showed up


A black hole opened inside the young girls chest, and she had the crippling feeling of her heart tearing to tiny shreds. Hot tears welled in her eyes, she clenched them furiously. She sent one final text to Sam.


W to S 12:58 am : fine jerk hope u had fun w/ wendy


Her battery died as soon as the text was sent. Wyn threw the phone down on the sofa in anger, then grabbed the nearest pillow and shoved her face into it. Tears soaked the fabric, her heartbroken sobs muffled. Her body shook from the force of her cries. The room suddenly felt much more empty, the safe space now tainted with hurt of betrayal. The young orphan was unsure of how long she layed crying until she had nothing left, unmoving in the dark, when her aunt finally returned home.

“Wyn? Sweetheart why are you still up?”

Stacy flipped on the light to the living room, Wyn’s eyes shut quickly at the sudden change.

“Have you been crying?” her aunt instantly at her side wrapping her arms around her distraught niece.

“Sam stood me up…” her voice monotone, utterly defeated.

“What? No, maybe there was an emergency--”

“He went to that party at Crater Lake… he never wanted to be my friend.”

“Winnie, honey--”

“I mean why would he?” fresh tears of self-hate glistening, “The little homeschooled freak of an orphan. No one cared about me past three years, don’t know why I thought he was different.”

Stacy stopped quiet, gently rubbing the teens arms, “That doesn’t make sense though. Sam wouldn’t have--”

“JUST STOP!” Wyn rose to her feet, and all her negative thoughts started pouring out, “You keep telling me that things will get better. Well, guess what? They aren’t! And they aren’t going to. I’m worthless. Nothing. No one cares, and no one ever will. So don’t keep preaching that bullshit about the ‘right guy’ or the ‘good people’ out there, cause they don’t exist! I’m right back the way I deserve to be - alone!”

Before the older woman had a chance to respond, Wyn raced upstairs and slammed her bedroom door behind her, locking it for good measure. She stripped herself of her costume furiously, grabbed one of her aunts old band tees that was just too big for her, and retreated beneath her covers. Warm tears falling again, staining her pillow with a dark wet mark.

There was a gentle knock on the door.

“Go AWAY!” she cried out, not bothering to hide her anguish.

“Wyn, honey, I know you’re hurting right now… I promise tomorrow this won’t seem so bad. Try praying on it tonight.”

The teenager hiccoughed, sobs now wracking her body once more.

“I got your phone from downstairs. I’m gonna charge it in my room okay?”

Wyn didn’t respond. Choosing instead to continue wallowing in her own personal hell. Eventually, she heard her aunt's footsteps retreat down the hall followed by the soft click of her door.

People always used the expression ‘broken heart’, but Wyn had never endured how literal the pain felt. There was a gaping hole that was pulsing with white hot agony. She prayed for sleep to take her, so she didn’t have to feel. But just a few hours later the sun rose, soft light peeking through her curtains seemingly not caring about the sleepless night she had just suffered through.




The cold halls didn’t feel as friendly as they had just the day before. As predicted many students skipped school due the revelries from the night before. Surprisingly, there were more seniors than Bronwyn had expected.

Not everyone had gone on the camping trip, but it seemed like everyone was talking about it. The fair-skinned teen blocked the overheard conversations from her mind. Judging from the animated and energetic expressions, it had been quite the night.

Numbly, Wyn tried to focus on the day ahead. She placed books into her locker before retrieving her materials for first period. She double checked to make sure Mr. Mill’s pocket watch was still safe, and shut the door and latched the lock. From the corner of her eye she saw a familiar tall, shaggy haired form walking towards her. Promptly turning, she sped the other way.

“Wyn! Wait up!!”

She kept walking, until a hand grabbed her arm. With more bellicosity than she actually had in her, she flung the hand off and turned sharply, “What?!”

Sam pulled his hand back startled by her aggression. His expression resembled that of a sad little puppy that had Wyn faltering.

“Look, I am so so sorry about last night... Dean and I had car trouble on the way back, and my phone got smashed. I wasn’t able to call, I’m really sorry.”

The girl wiped her eyes angrily, forcing away the moisture pooling up against her will. Her voice came out low and shaky, “Ya know Sam? At least all the other assholes in this school were mean to my face or just ignored me. No one else had gone so far as to pretend to be my friend so props on originality.”

Confusion washed over his face, so genuine looking that Wyn almost believed it.


“I get that Wendy Brooke Hill,” she spat out the worse with venom, “is every guys wet dream, but you didn’t have to lie to me,” she struggled to hold back the wobbling in her voice. She silently cursed her unchecked reaction.

“Wyn, what are you talking about? I don’t—“

“I know you went to the Lake last night. Wendy was real glad you were there. Of course, I was surprised when she told me that, since we had plans…”

Sam’s eyes searched hers, before realization dawned on him, “It’s not what you think.”

“Save it.”

She was overwhelmed. Embarrassed, angry, and heartbroken. She turned away again, wanting to get as far away as she could.

“Wait, no! Wyn, I—“

“Leave. Me. Alone.”

Sam looked almost scared. To be honest, she scared herself a little bit, never having stood up for herself. Before the tall boy could say another word, Wyn ran down the hall through the front doors of the school, the sound of thunder overpowering the heavy door slamming shut. Sam was left alone in the hallway, staring after her.


Wyn managed to get a block away from the school, when the sky opened up. Water poured down, as if mocking her. Closed eyes raised up, she uttered out “Fuck me.” Briefly, she considered returning to school, knowing her umbrella was still in her locker, but her pride won out. She continued her walk in the storm, heading back home, her soaking auburn hair sticking to her skin. The tears tracking down her fair skin, blended with the rain.

It didn’t take a minute for her to regret her decision. November in Oregon and torrential rain were not a good combination. Just a couple minutes later, she was shivering so intensely everything hurt. But still she moved forward, refusing to give Sam the satisfaction.


The teen turned to the voice coming from a car that had pulled up alongside her, instantly recognizing the young man in the driver’s seat.

“H-hi, D-d-dean.”

“Jeez, you’re gonna freeze to death, what are you doin’ out here?”

“Maintaining my pride.”


“Nothing,” she forced out through chattering teeth, “I felt s-sick, so I’mm j-just going home.”

Dean appraised her with skepticism, “Uh-huh… Well, hop in I’ll give ya a ride.”

“No, it’s f-fine really--”

“Don’t be a dumbass, you’re too smart for that. Get in.”

She stood deliberating. It was still over a mile to home, and she didn’t fancy the idea of another fifteen minutes of freezing water soaking her to the core. On the other hand, Dean was Sam’s brother. And right now she wanted nothing to do with the name Winchester. She knew that the young man wouldn’t wait forever, so she needed to make a decision. They looked at each other, Dean waiting expectantly.

Wordlessly, she walked around to the passenger side, opened the door and sat without looking at her savior. Immediately, she sighed in relief at the warmth of the Impala’s interior. If Dean noticed her resignation he didn’t comment on it. Then, he pulled away from the curb and continued down the road.

The trip started silent. Wyn sat on the passenger side dripping like a drowned rat as warmth quickly penetrated her, color returning to her cheeks. Dean stole a glance at the young girl. When he looked away, Wyn carefully peered at him taking note of the brother. A strong jawline, freckles dusting across the bridge of his nose and cheeks, and damn those green eyes. The brothers shared the trait of beautifully entrancing eyes. She turned her head forward, and stared down at the floor. The only sound the rattling noise from the heater. She was fairly certain something must have gotten stuck in there.

After what felt like an eternity, although it was just a few minutes, Dean pulled the classic car into the driveway, and placed the car in park. Wyn didn’t move to get out. She clutched her bag to her chest, knowing she should say something.

“Thanks… for picking me up, Dean. You didn’t have to.”

A trying sigh broke Dean’s stoic demeanor.

“I’m guessing, you decided you’d take your chances of pneumonia or worse instead of dealing with a problem. Would that problem be Sammy?”


“No, ya know what? Lemme talk. Cause I think you need to hear this,” he turned his body towards her and looked at her with confident determination, “I get that you’re pissed. I don’t really blame ya, but Sam? He’s not the one you should be mad at.”

Wyn froze. Still listening to his words. The young man before her full of honest empathy.

“Sam, he… he hasn’t exactly had it easy. And I don’t wanna sound like a Lifetime movie, but he has been so much friggin happier in the past two months, than I’ve seen since he was six months old. I know you’re both brainiacs, or whatever, but you’re both dumb as hell when it comes to,” he gestured vaguely in front of Wyn, “this. All I’m saying is, give the kid a chance to explain. And if you still wanna kick him in the jewels, more power to ya.”

Wyn stifled a sob mixed with a chuckle, nodding fervently. She broke eye contact to blink away the stupid endless tears she seemed to possess. A conceding breath filled her lungs, and she slowly exhaled, trying to prevent another emotional break down. With a beholden smile, she returned her gaze to the man sitting next to her.

“Thanks again for the ride, Dean.”

He nodded, with a casual two finger salute, and she quickly jumped out and raced to the front door. Wyn was sure to be as quiet as possible, since she knew her aunt was still asleep. Often, when Aunt Stacy worked the late late shift, she would sleep until just before noon.

Thoughts swirling in her mind, she made her way to her room, to change into dry clothes. She opted for comfy yoga pants and a sweater, since she figured she wasn’t going back outside anytime soon. She wasn’t too worried about her aunt getting mad about her skipping school. She had never done it before, and after last night…well.

About ten minutes later, when the young girl had returned to the living room, she heard frantic knocking at the front door. She lept up hurriedly to answer before the noise woke her aunt. When she opened the door, she was surprised, but at the same time hopeful at the sight.

“Sam?! What are you doing here?”

“I need to say something,” he looked as if he had gone swimming in his clothes, he was so soused in rain.

“Did you walk all the way here?” emphatic guilt washed over her, despite that she had been prepared to do that very thing herself.

“Ran, actually. Before you slam the door in my face, I have to tell you something.”

She looked at him eyes wide in wonder, hardly believing that he was there. He had literally chased after her. She stood, allowing her hand to lower from the door handle and crossed her arms around her waist, the chill from outside creeping in.

“Wyn, I did not go to Crater Lake to be with Wendy, or anyone else. Yes, I was there, but I swear I didn’t plan on it. I can’t… I can’t explain everything, but it did have to do with my whole family business thing. I know, you have no reason to trust, but please, Wyn you have to believe me. Here, proof,” he extended his hand and in it was a slightly crumpled folded paper. She reached out and almost jumped when her fingers brushed his hand, it was that devine addicting sensation she was now beginning to associate with Sam.

She took the paper, and examined it, surprised to see it was folded tightly on itself to about the size of her palm. It looked like it had been taken from one of his notebooks. Carefully, she untucked the folds, and opened it to see a doodle of a little black cat sitting on top of a jack o’lantern. A teary smile broke her face, and saw below the doodle, Sam’s handwriting saying, “Thank You for a Magical Halloween!” then what fell out upon the opening of the last fold into her hand, made her jaw drop.

It was a pair for movie tickets, and on the stub she read the title “Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone”. Her eyes shot back to Sam’s face, her silent question lingered. He looked up from under wet hair dangling in his face, hands shoved sheepishly in his pockets. A curtain of rain continued to fall behind him, framing his totally vulnerable puppy dog look.  

“I was going to give you that last night… I went and bought the tickets couple days ago. I knew you really wanted to go, and I thought...I thought maybe I could take you,” He inhaled shaking, “as a date.”

Indescribable feelings filled Wyn. She forgot how to breathe temporarily, and her head shook slightly trying to comprehend the new information. Staring into Sam’s eyes she knew he wasn’t lying. She wasn’t sure how, but she could feel it with everything she had that Sams feelings were true. Her heart was pounding, she was certain Sam could’ve heard it were it not for the rain.

An overjoyed smile graced her lips, “You… wanna take me on a date ?”

“If you’ll still have me.”

“I can’t even -- yeah, I would love that!”

Overcome, she instantly wrapped her arms around the taller boys shaking frame, the note and tickets still held firmly held in hand. Sams long arms snaked around her figure and held her tight. Not caring that her dry clothes were now getting wet again, she held the hug as long as she could. Then it occurred to her, and pulled back.

“Oh God, Sam you must be freezing!”

“Just a little bit,” he said with light humor in his voice.

“Come inside, please, I can get you a change of clothes.”




Sam and Wyn sat cross legged on the sofa, holding mugs of hot chocolate, and a crackling fire going in the fireplace. Wyn had given Sam a spare t-shirt, one of her aunts from the AC/DC Let There Be Rock 1977 Tour. Apparently, before her aunt settled into the heavy Lutheranism after Nursing School, she was quite the little rebel. Stacy often bragged about her summers of following bands around the country. Wyn had also managed to find a pair of sweatpants that she thought could fit Sam. The waist was drawstring, and it had always been a little big on Wyn. However, the pant legs stopped a couple inches above his ankles.

Both had blankets wrapped around them. The storm continued to rage outside, but inside the two young lovers hardly noticed, finding the smallest excuses to touch each other. Knees touched, occasionally their fingers would brush against the other. They both could hardly believe that their feelings for each other were shared.

Sam had told her the basics of what he was doing on Halloween. As she understood it, it had something to do with the recent animal attacks, and he and Dean had reason to believe the students that went camping might have been in danger. So they had gone to the park rangers and volunteered to help them since they had experience hunting. There were definitely missing pieces and odd details that didn’t quite seem right, but Wyn couldn’t really fault him on having to keep part of his life hidden.

Wyn hadn’t told Sam all about her past. All he knew was that her Mom died when she was a baby, and that her Dad was in Kansas. But he didn’t know her father was currently in the intensive care ward of the Kansas State Mental Hospital. Her Aunt had taken her to visit him at least once a year since she was little, but last year they hadn’t been able to afford the trip. She wasn’t ready for Sam to know about that part of her life… not yet.

The teens were exchanging twin smiles as they talked about their plans, when Aunt Stacy sleepily stumbled into the living room. She wore a blue fluffy robe, over flannel pajamas. The nurse examined the pair with discernment.

“So you skipping school?” Stacy said through a yawn.

“Yes,” they said together.

“You guys make up?”

“Yes,” they parroted again.

The older woman nodded, pursing her lips as if in deep thought, “You guys want pancakes?”

They exchanged bright eyed looks, “Yes!”

Chapter Text

Bronwyn’s room was covered in discarded clothes that weren’t exactly right. Despite her Aunt’s assurances that Sam wouldn’t care what she was wearing, the teen was in a positively manic mode. Eventually, she had managed to narrow her choice down to a blue v-neck sweater, with dark grey jeans, and her brown leather knee high boots. She grabbed her nicer navy trench coat, and a cream colored pashmina scarf to top everything off.

It wasn’t often that she wore full faced makeup, usually she stuck with some eyeliner and mascara for every day. A purely lazy decision on her part. But tonight of course was special. A lightweight foundation with translucent powder on top. Sneakily, she had swiped her aunts blush, and was embarrassed to see the name of the blush color was “orgasm”. She finished off her look with a moisturizing lip color with a similar consistency to lip balm, avoiding sticky gloss. If anyone asked, she would say it was because of the cold weather, and most certainly not because she hadn’t been able to stop thinking about Sam's lips for the past week and a half.

The final product reflected back at her in her full length mirror. Not bad , she thought, making a face that said as much. Happy with the gentle waves of hair framing her face, she turned to see Aunt Stacy leaning against her door frame, smiling warmly. She had been absent mindedly humming “Blackbird” a song Stacy use to always sing to Wyn as a lullaby. Even when she got a few years older, Wyn would always insist they sing it before bedtime.

“They grow up so fast!” Aunt Stacy wiped away an imaginary tear.

“Stop it, how do I look?”

“You look beautiful as always.”

The teenager groaned in annoyance, her aunt assured her again, “You look great, sweetie. Really. You and Sam are going to have a great time.”

The doorbell rang and Wyn’s eyes widened, her heart began to race with nervous excitement.

“Come on then,” Stacy nodded her head towards the stairs, “tall, not-so-dark and handsome is waiting for you!”

Sam had managed to convince Dean, once again, to let him borrow the Impala, but only after he dropped Dean off at a bar/pool hall that a bunch of the guys from the garage frequented. The look on Sam's face when Wyn opened the door, was both a relief and nerve racking. She knew that Sam wasn’t exactly a Casanova or serial dater like his brother, but he definitely had more experience than Wyn. Both dating/relationship wise, as well as… other things.

By the time, they reached the movie theater, Wyn’s anxiety was waning and excitement replacing it. Her eagerness for the movie and being able to share it with Sam, overshadowed first date jitters. Sam was sure to stop by the concessions and let her know she could get whatever she wanted.

Wyn wanted to save room for dinner after, so she just requested a Coke, small popcorn and some Junior Mints for them to share. They both shared a joking sigh of relief that neither of them was a Pepsi person. When they took their seats Wyn was practically bouncing with elated joy. When the title appeared onscreen she was completely enthralled. The only thing that broke her focus was the feeling of Sams warm hand slipping into hers, when the glass disappeared at the snake enclosure. She squeezed his hand lightly, gracing a smile his way before completely settling in to enjoy the film to completion.

When they left the theater and Wyn was smiling ear to ear. Her cheeks had started to hurt. Sam's hand was warm and firm in hers. They were met with the harsh cold, upon exiting the lobby.  

“So what’d ya think?”

“It was great! They didn’t keep everything from the books, which I guess is to be expected, but I just don’t know why they cut Peeves from the movie. He was one of my favorite parts.”

“Not all poltergeists are as tame as Peeves,” he said rather knowingly. He had managed to read the first two books in preparation for that night.

“I take it you're the expert on poltergeists?” Wyn let out a laugh at the silly notion. All of her nervousness had melted away. She only felt that comfortable at home feeling she always got in Sam’s presence. Now there was the added benefit of knowing he felt the same way about her.

“I love your laugh,” he said suddenly. Wyn stopped and looked to Sam. His eyes warmly penetrating. “I wanted to tell you that for a while, but I was scared,” Sam pulled them aside and put his free hand along her jaw cupping her neck gently. “I never understood why you’re always down on yourself. From the moment we met… you made me feel like, I don’t know like I finally had someone who got me. Hell you stood up to Snyder for me,” he let out a humored scoff, that she echoed. “You weren’t afraid of me, didn’t look down on me. You’re something special ya know that?”

Wyn released a soft breathy sigh. How did she get so lucky? Hazel crystals peered back at her, and she was lost in Sam. The voices of moviegoers around them seemed to fade away. It was only the two of them. Almost as if it was meant to be that way. Her eyes flickered to his lips, while biting her lower lip. Looking up she saw Sam mimic her. She moved her hand up slowly up to chest on his chest, feeling the frantic beating of his heart.

Thankfully, Sam took the initiative to close the distance between them, holding her body close against him, lowered his head to join their lips together. Electricity shot through them both, filling them with a divine pleasure. Uncertain where her confidence came from, Wyn eagerly countered, moving in response to the kiss. She couldn’t get enough, lips parting and dancing together. The lingering taste of peppermint chocolate present, from the candy. Finally, the pair broke the kiss, both gasping for air.

“Wow…” Wyn uttered out, at a loss for anything else to say.

The grin that showed on Sam’s expression, sent an unfamiliar but blissful sensation straight to pool in her groin. Those dimples were going to be the death of her, she was sure of it. He kissed her lips quickly once more, and took a step back.

“Come on, you wanna grab something to eat?”

All Wyn could do was nod. A bashful smile and pink dusting her cheeks, and not just from the cold weather. She was still unsure of what was expected, so she was glad Sam had some idea of how a date worked. He put his arm around her smaller frame, shielding her partly from the cold wind, and they returned to the car.

Sam immediately started the heater, trying to warm the interior as quickly as possible. It was only a few minutes until they reached the local late night diner. Missy’s

The owner “Missy” was a boisterous woman who ran a tight ship, but she also cared a great deal for her staff. One time, when Wyn and her aunt had been having lunch, a tourist couple had stopped there while on the road. The man started acting belligerent, and it progressed into him verbally abusing the waiter. Missy had stormed out of the kitchen waving a giant wooden spoon, telling the couple to get out of her restaurant, and that they don’t serve people who behave like trash.

“I hope this is okay,” Sam’s voice was soft and meek. Wyn looked between the diner and Sam.

“I love this place. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“I wanted to take you someplace nicer, but I couldn’t really afford…” he trailed off, shoulders slumped in embarrassment.

With a gracious smile, Wyn leaned over and kissed him, “Sam I am so ridiculously happy to be on a date with you. We could go to McDonalds, and I’d be fine.”

Sam breathed out in subtle relief.

“Besides,” she grabbed her purse from the floor, “I’m paying for dinner.”

“What? No, you’re not!”

“Yes. I am. You paid for the movie, popcorn and candy. I got this!” She flashed a proud grin, and got out of the car. Sam shook his head lightly, and followed her into the diner.

They managed to snag a booth towards the back for privacy. One of the long time waitresses, Lucy, came to take their order. She was a middle aged woman with bright orange curls tied back in a ponytail. Sam lit up when he saw the diner served breakfast all hours, and ordered an egg white omelette with peppers, wheat toast, and a side of turkey bacon. After ribbing him for his healthy food choice, Wyn ordered a bowl of the ground turkey chili and a side of sweet potato fries.

Lucy cheerfully told them that their order would be right out. When she walked away she turned behind Sam, and gave Wyn a thumbs up mouthing, So cute! Wyn giggled.

“What are you laughing at?”

“Nothing,” she relaxed into the cushion booth seat and took a sip of her water.

“So you liked the movie?”

“Oh yeah! It was just like I imagined it. A little cheesy yeah, but that’s kinda the whole point isn’t it. Magic, fantasy, all that feel good stuff… it’s all about escaping to a better place. Where the good guy always wins, and there’s always happy ending.”

“Yeah, I guess so. I don’t really get to go to movies a lot.”

“I can imagine. What with all the traveling your family does...” Wyn observed Sam mannerism when she mentioned his family. He wasn’t nearly as secretive as he had been, but it still seemed like there was a lot of unresolved tension among the Winchester men.

“Can I ask you something?” He asked changing the subject, but she didn’t point it out.

“Of course.”

“So, I know you haven’t really done a lot, physically I mean, and I know you were raised super religious… what, um,” Sam’s face couldn’t get any redder, “what’s your comfort level? I guess that’s the right question.” He scrunched his face still unsure.

Wyn felt her felt warm, and that increasingly familiar sense of which had to be arousal shot through her.

“I’m not really sure. I mean, my lack of experience, isn’t exactly by choice, more of a lack of opportunity. I’m not opposed to ‘new’ experiences, though. I really, really liked kissing you. Obviously, I don’t want to go too fast--”

“Me neither, and I don’t want to pressure you at all,” Sam cut in hurriedly.

“I know,” she nodded, pushing through her own bashful inhibitions, “can I ask, what exactly have you… done?”

It felt beyond awkward to talk about, but she knew it was important, and she knew Sam wouldn’t make her feel silly for asking.

“I had a couple girlfriends, but really short term since we didn’t stay in one place too long. We made out, did some over the clothes touching. I’ve gotten hand jobs a few times, blow jobs a couple… nothing past that.”

“And… to the girls? What all have you done to someone?” She squirmed in her seat.

“I, uh…” a coy grin crossed Sam’s face, “I’ve fingered girls. And I ate out the last girl I was with.”

“Oh. Okay… and is that something you… would do again? Maybe?”

“With you? Definitely.”

Wyn didn’t bother hiding her smile, Sams expression matching hers.

“I’d be okay with that. I know my aunt wants me to wait until marriage for sex, but,” she rolled her eyes, “I’m not gonna hold back if it feels right, and I’m in love. That’s what most people want anyway right? Their first time to be with someone they love?”

The diner felt much warmer after their discussion. Both removed their outer layers, before continue their conversation. It took a much more light hearted tone. A few more minutes passed before their food came out.

“Alright!” Lucy’s voice drew their attention away from each other, “we got the omelette with nothing good on it, wheat toast, and imitation bacon. And for my girl we got house chili and hippie fries. Anything else I can get ya?”

“We’re great, thanks Lucy!” Wyn responded brightly. The waitress gave her a subtle wink, before checking her other customers.

The two dove into their dinner, offering each other a taste of their own meals. Not for the first time, Wyn was surprised by how at ease she felt with Sam. She had never been a people person. Her own inhibitions halting any attempts at friendship with others. But it was like she had finally found her place. Her true home.

Sam was her home.

When Lucy returned to ask if they were up for dessert they both declined. Citing full stomachs. Wyn laid enough cash on the table to include a generous tip. The staff waved them off with friendly smiles, and they stepped outside.

They stopped just outside the car, not wanting to part. Sam wrapped his arms around her, pulling her in for another blissful kiss.  

“I don’t really wanna say ‘Good Night’ yet,” he whispered.

Sam was so adorable it almost hurt.

“Well, my curfew isn’t until midnight, we still have couple hours…” she left her insinuation up to his imagination.

“Dean’ll be out all night. You wanna go to my place?”

Her heart raced with elated anticipation, being alone with Sam with no interruptions or prying eyes. She didn’t need to say anything, Sam able to read her expression.




The young lovers lips parted, and both breathed heavily trying to regain control of themselves, foreheads resting against each other in agitated arousal. As soon as they had entered the Winchester abode, and were certain it was empty they had fallen into each other’s arms with the hunger of a wild animal.

It was as if they hadn’t just gone on their first date, but had been together for a lifetime. Their matching desires felt natural and not at all rushed. Wyn straddling Sam’s lap on the sofa, his hands gently rubbing up and down her legs lightly scratching the fabric of the denim, with her hands clutched behind his neck.

“I’m sorry,” Sam breathed out, “I didn’t mean to-- I don’t wanna push--”

“No, no, it’s,” Wyn sighed out heavily, “it’s okay. I’m trying to hold myself back, too.”

Sam's eyes closed, and smiled.

“Is it supposed to feel like this? Like this intense?”

The young man shook his head, “I don’t know. Don’t think so… I mean, it’s never felt,” he let out a soft laugh, “like this.”

“You’re just that good huh?” She felt daring, and allowed her hips to roll against his. Gasping when she felt, stiffness between his legs pressed against her.

“Do you wanna stop?” Sam’s voice barely a whisper. She shook her head. Not wasting time, they continued their motions, feverish hunger driving them further. Wyn moaned softly into the kiss, and felt his hands move up to her waist. In the blink of an eye, Sam had flipped her to lie flat on the couch, his body still pressed between her legs.

Their eyes locked again. Wordlessly checking in. Not wanting to push too far.

The subtle roll of Sam’s hips had Wyn mewling in delight. The intoxicating feeling of arousal overwhelmed her. A feeling she wanted to embrace.


He continued rolling his hips, their groins flush together. Desperately, Wyn pulled his lips to crash against hers again, matching his skilled movements perfectly. Each thrust escalated, the friction of their jeans teasing. A tell tale growth pressed between her legs sending her to the stars.

It was…

Absolute heaven.

Their heavy pants sounded in the empty dark room. Growing more frantic, Wyn parted her lips, tongue shoving its way past. Sam let out a pleased groan and responded by sucking her tongue hard. She gasped, and he sucked her bottom lip rolling it between his teeth. Their bodies pressed together with deep yearning.

With one arm resting on the sofa, protecting her from the brunt of his weight, Sam trailed his other hand to the soft waves of her hair and clenched slightly. Enough to make the young girl cry out in agreement. She felt him bury his face in the crook of her neck.

Wyn’s arms curled beneath his and grabbed his back. Holding on for dear life when she felt his lips touch her neck.

“Oh God… Sam,” she gasped.

Spurred on by her moans, Sam kissed, sucked, licked and grazed his teeth along the sensitive flesh of her neck. Sam’s thrusts were increasing in speed. His breath growing more labored and frantic. She clutched him tight. Chasing the peak of pleasure. They were both so close.

Neither heard the front door open. In fact, they were both oblivious that they were no longer alone until the lights flipped on. They jumped apart startled by the intrusion. Sam quirked his head to the side, staring at the strange man now leaning against the doorframe to the living room, arms crossed an amused smirk on his face.


“Heya Sam. Who’s your friend?”

Wyn’s eyes widened in surprise. She took in the man before her. White speckled into his beard. A gruff, but still charming demeanor. Turns out she was right. Good looks definitely ran in the Winchester family.




Chapter Text

John waited in the Impala, as Sam escorted his girlfriend to her door.John could see a light on in the living room of the quaint two story house, concluding it was the girl’s aunt that she had mentioned. The Winchester patriarch shook his head with a grin. Dean had always been the one he walked in on with a girl. This was a first for Sam.

Luckily, the poor girl, despite blushing deep crimson, managed to muster up a formal introduction. Bronwyn Evans. The name stirred up something of the past. He wasn’t sure why. The two knew each other from school, as they apparently had some classes together. John knew that Sam had a couple girlfriends in the past, but it never seemed to last long. Then with guilt, he recalled that those relationships didn’t last, because he had always finished up a hunt, then left town with his boys.

Not for the first time, he wondered if his methods were worth it. Dean was grown and Sam was already becoming a man, as well. He had poured everything he had into safeguarding them, in his extensive search for the thing that killed their mother. In the blink of an eye, Mary’s children didn’t need him anymore. But he had to prepare them for the evil in the world. John was starting to realize their family’s tragedy may run deeper than he originally thought. He looked up to see Sam returning to the car. There was one thing he could do as a father still.

Sam quickly got in the car, shutting the door, and avoided eye contact. John let out a good natured chuckle, and they drove away.

“Pretty girl Sam. How long’s this been going on?”

There was a brief pause. “Tonight was our first date, sir.”

“I’m impressed, that’s some big action to get on the first date.” Sam released a strangled noise that sounded somewhere between agreement, and a plea to disappear. “Look, Sam… I’m not giving you a hard time. Hell, when your mother and I first started dating, we could barely keep our hands off each other.”


“No need to get all in a huff. Just seems that you like this girl, and I know Dean’s approach to dating is… different. Wanted to give you some advice.”

“I do like her. Every since we met, I… I couldn’t stop thinking about her. I never thought she would go out with someone like me.” John couldn’t remember the last time he saw Sam smile like that.

“Bronwyn seems like a sweet girl Sam. She could be good for ya,” John peered sideways at Sam, “This is the time in your life that determines what kind of a man you’ll be. You need to do things right.”


John looked over to his youngest as he spoke, wanting his words to land. “When it comes to making love to woman, there are three things you need to know. One: always wear a rubber. Two: Respect her. If you think part of her might not want it, don’t do it. And three: you don’t finish before she does. You got that?”

“Yes, sir!”

“Atta boy,” he reached over, and gave a mortified Sam a fatherly pat on the shoulder, “Now tell me more about this pretty lady of yours.”




After the embarrassing moment with Sam’s father, the two had been significantly more cautious when engaging in feverish make-out sessions. Taking advantage of the occasional empty classroom during their free period, the hidden corner in the library, and the like. Always making sure no one else was in sight, or that there was minimal chance of them being disturbed.

Recently, Aunt Stacy had a serious talk with Wyn about her new relationship. Telling her young niece that sex was a big responsibility, and that Stacy felt Wyn was still too young for sex. The nurse in her still told her to make Sam use a condom, if the occasion arose. Wyn was mortified. Spouting off that while a first love can be exciting, a lot of mistakes can be made. Specifically, moving too fast physically.

After all Wyn was a virgin in every sense of the word. Aside from the intense arousal she felt with Sam after their first date, those feelings were brand new to the young girl. Everytime their lips met, Wyn could feel herself falling deeper under Sams spell. The zealous way her body would press against his. It was like she couldn’t get enough, and it was rather unsettling. A part of her was desperately wanting for any intimate contact, while another part was wary of just how eager she was.

Her own inhibitions rattled around in her mind. She shouldn’t be this needy. She shouldn’t have kissed Sam so quickly. She shouldn’t be so slutty in her late night thoughts of Sam. After all, good little Christian girls didn’t behave like that.

Wyn hadn’t expressed these feelings to Sam, yet. He seemed quite content with their relationship as it was, for the moment. But that could be attributed to lack of opportunity. When they weren’t at school, Sam was helping Dean work odd jobs to help ends meet, Wyn was volunteering at her church, or the both of them would be in the presence of either her Aunt Stacy or Sam’s dad. Both Sam and Dean were surprised, albeit grateful, at their father’s, now, frequent trips home. John still traveled a lot for work, but he would check in on the boys regularly. Stacy had even invited the Winchester clan to join them for Thanksgiving dinner.

From what Wyn could tell, it was a significant change to how things had been for them the past several years. It broke her heart a little to think of a young Dean caring for his little brother, when he was still a child himself.


Finals were just a couple weeks away. Sam and Wyn were able to mitigate each others stress, hammering out plentiful study time for AP Biology and AP European History. Wyn, unfortunately, had been struggling with History. She had loved AP US History, but Euro was currently kicking her ass. Which she complained about on a regular basis.

“Well, there’s a few more centuries of history in Europe than here,” Sam had reminded her gently, as they sat on her bed. She had grumbled in response, muttering something along the lines of how ancient history was much more interesting, before returning to her term paper on the long-term societal and economic impact of the War of Roses on Western Europe. Yawn. It was a rare Saturday for them to be completely alone. Stacy having picked up extra shifts at the hospital, resulted in her working close to 20 hour shifts.

“I can’t do it,” Wyn slammed notebook shut releasing a cry of frustration. “If I have to read again about how some syphilis-ridden monarch created their own rules, so they could get laid more, I’m gonna lose my mind.”

Sam’s lips curved into an amused smile, “Not a fan of King Henry VIII, huh?”

Wyn rolled her eyes, discarding her history notebook, to reach for the textbook for her Honors Latin IV class. Sam quickly reached over to stop her hand.

“Maybe we should take a break. You hungry?”

Wyn’s face reflected the relief and gratitude at his suggestion of lunch. The two made their way downstairs to figure out what exactly their teenage metabolisms were craving. Considering their brains were mush from the excess studying, Wyn suggested ordering take out. Sam spied a chinese menu on the fridge with interest. By the time, they had decided upon their selections and Wyn called in the order, Sam had settled into the living room. He knew they needed to channel surfed until something peaked their interest that didn’t require the weary students to think too much. Christmas specials had been playing non-stop since the day after Thanksgiving. Wyn quickly vetoed those. Sam vetoed any Reality TV. They settled on That 70’s Show .

“I don’t understand how the parents haven’t figured out the kids are getting high in the basement,” Sam pointed out.

“Denial maybe?” Wyn suggested, “Maybe they just didn’t want to believe it so bad, they kind of ignored it.”

“Nah. Red’s too much a hard ass. He’s a war vet. Runs that house with an iron fist.”

Wyn couldn’t ignore the tone in his voice, “Did your dad ever catch you doing something bad? I mean besides…” She trailed off, letting the implied reference linger.

“Probably. Can’t remember anything in particular. Dad actually yelled at Dean, way more than he yelled at me. Up until a few years ago anyway. That’s when Dad and I really started to butt heads,” Sam spoke unreservedly. He had grown much more accustomed to discussing his past with Wyn. Guilt weighed on her, since she had revealed bare minimum information about her own. Even though they both lost their mother, Sam still had his father and a brother. She wasn’t even sure her father knew who she was when they visited. All she had was an aunt that was hardly around.

“Things getting any better?”

“I can’t tell,” his answer honest.

The doorbell rang, and Sam jumped up to answer while Wyn retrieved the food money left by Stacy in the kitchen. The two hungry teens dug into their high sodium meal with great vigor, finishing in record time. Begrudgingly, the two returned upstairs.

“Back to the torture,” Wyn sighed, flinging herself back onto the bed.

Sam shut the door behind them, and moved quickly to prop himself over her, “Maybe you need a little more play time,” he grinned mischief coming off him in waves. He pecked her lips teasingly.

“Sam Winchester, are you trying to seduce me?”

“Maybe. Is it working?” He kissed her again, letting the kiss linger.

“You tell me.” Wyn pulled him close, their bodies flush, and kissed him deeply. She allowed her tongue to push past to tease his lower lip, sucking it, and rolling it between her teeth. A low groan rumbled in Sam throat. Confidence surged through her. She lowered her hand, tentatively, then gently palmed between his legs.

Sam took a shuddering breath, “Fuck…”

Wyn sharply retracted her hand, afraid she had gone too far. “I’m sorry -- I didn’t…” Her cheeks turned crimson. Tears stung her eyes, completely mortified.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Sam shifted to lay by her side, and wrapped his arms around her. He stroked her hair soothing her, “What are you sorry for?”

“I shouldn’t… be so pushy. It’s too soon.”

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Sam tilted her head to look into her eyes, “you know I feel the same way. You should never feel guilty of how you feel with me.”

Wyn clung to Sam, burying her face to his neck. “I just… it’s so easy for me to get carried away with you. And we’re not supposed to… we shouldn’t go so fast.”

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“That’s the problem.” She peered into his eyes. “I do want to. Is that bad?”

“Of course not. It’s you and me. Screw everyone else, we do what feels right to us.” Sam kissed her again. Wyn shivered, arousal pooling in her lower belly. She had butterflies. “So what do you want?” Sam’s voice was just above a whisper.

Wyn closed her eyes. Mulling over the question. When she opened her eyes and saw the passion in Sam’s hazel orbs, her decision was made.

“I want to make you feel good.” Their lips pressed together, eager. She could feel the response of his body against her. Again, she lowered her hand, gently cupping him. He moaned, a desperate sound of lust into her mouth. His cock swelled and hardened, he pushed harder into her hand. Her heart was racing.

The books from studying now lay completely forgotten on her bedroom floor. Wyn straddled Sam’s lap, and it was quickly becoming her favorite position. Sam sat up, holding her upright. Somehow in the midst of their ministration, Sam’s shirt had come off. She nearly wept at the beautiful sight. Her blue-green eyes sparkled brightly.

“Oh wow! You are, freakin - wow!” Sam grinned bashfully at her appraisal, pulling her close to him again, pressing his chest to hers. He planted quick kisses along her sternum, and his hands moved under the back of her shirt fumbling with the hooks on her bra. She aided in removing the bra, without taking off her shirt.

Sam face looked mildly impressed. Then they resumed their make out session and she could feel her skin growing hot. Rubbing her hands all over Sam’s exposed skin gave her such deep satisfaction. She could sense his own desire growing beyond control.

Their lips sucked and nipped at then other, in their base need to be as close as possible. She rolled her hips, frustrated at the layers still separating them. Instinctively, she lowered hers hands. Deftly unbuttoning and unzipping her own pants, before doing the same to his. He inhaled sharply, and took her hands in his. Their foreheads resting against each other. His form was shaking. He removed one hand from hers, then slid it beneath her shirt once again. He massaged one breast, rolling it and teasing the nipple with his thumb.

“Do you wanna keep going?”

She could hear the utmost restraint in his voice. It was intoxicating.


Needing no further encouragement, Sam lifted her from his lap, layed her back, and pushed his jeans down. He kicked them off onto the floor, before slowly urging hers off as well. Sam was left only in his boxer briefs, Wyn in her shirt and panties. He kissed his way up her body from her thigh, to her stomach, her chest, then peppered kisses along her jaw. Wyn moaned breathily, her self-doubt ebbing away.

Before she lost her nerve, she placed her hands on Sam’s hips pushing him to the side, to lie flat on his back. Their forms jostled on the bed, arranging themselves to a comfortable position. Wyn rose to her knees, and stared at his body. Her fingers traced the lines defining the lean muscle. Following the light trail of hair, leading down to the elastic band of his underwear.

“Will you tell me what to do?” Wyn’s voice was meek, but sure. He simply nodded. She pulled on the waistband, and lowered the garment from his hips, his cock springing forth to rest against his abdomen. The breath left her lungs at the sight of him. Thicker than she imagined, and longer. Seemed Sam was fairly well endowed. Trepidation filled her.

“Woah.” Sam blushed pink. Wyn reached out and took the length in her hand, wrapping her small hand around. Her fingers didn’t wrap all the way around, a small space between her thumb and forefinger.

“Oh God.” Sam cried out.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No definitely not. Just don’t grip too hard. Um, start off slow.” She nodded, and experimentally moved her hand down to the base, slowly back to the tip. She thumbed the head, precum pearling out the slit. Sam’s breath grew quicker. Wyn spread the small amount of liquid over the head. Her head was swimming. Warm slickness felt in her panties.Then, she resumed her movement, wrist twisting. His eyes fluttered shut. She took that as a good sign.

Her confidence was growing. Sensing what he needed, adjusted her technique instinctively. After a few pumps, “D-d-do you,” he gasped, “have lotion?” Quickly, she retrieved the bottle she kept on her bedside, and pumped a small amount in her hand. Warming the cream, before gripping him again.

“God, yes.”

Wyn smiled. She became caught up in the pleasure she was giving him. Ultimate control. She pumped his cock a little faster, firming up her grip slightly. His hips began to thrust, matching her motions. “Like this?” Sam nodded fervently, words escaping him. She quickened her pace. Feeling brave, she seized his balls with her free hand. Rolled the heavy orbs gently in tandem with the pumping. He moaned out. She could sense he was nearing his peak.

His hips continued to thrust up into her grip, clutching the sheets. Eyes clenched, mouth ajar in unabashed pleasure. “I’m-- I’m close--Ngh, Wyn!” She helped push him over the edge, and he came shooting onto his muscled stomach. Her eyes widened, proud and craving to touch his release. To taste. But held back.  

Sam’s breath came in deep gasps, as he settled from the high of his orgasm. While Wyn was still flying high on the thrill of seeing him come apart in her hands. She made him feel like that. It felt astounding. She laid gently next to him, her hand placed over his heart.

A blissful grin crossed Sam’s face, and turned locking their eyes together. She wasn’t sure what he saw when he looked her, but dark arousal crossed his features again. All she knew is that Sam wasn’t done with her, yet. His gaze filled with lust, as she felt his hand gently traced her side up to her face.

“Can I make you feel good, too?”

His request was so simple, but she felt trepidation. What if it wasn’t good? What if she was a freak and didn’t like what he did?... what if it hurt?

He must have sensed her hesitation, “Hey, don’t worry. Nothing you don’t want okay?” She could see the earnest look in his eyes, which calmed her nerves but not her racing heart.

She nodded. “I...what if…”

As if reading her mind, “If there’s anything you don’t like or it hurts, just tell me and I’ll stop. Trust me,” he kissed her intimately, allowing the vulnerability of the moment to melt away, leaving only intimacy, “I’m gonna make it good for you.”

What could only be described as a whimper escapes her lips. “Okay,” she smiled softly, giving him a look of loving trust.

He brought their lips together again, reigniting their passionate dance. Her mouth moved in perfect tandem with his. After such a short time they were already learning to anticipate the others actions and intentions. Perhaps that’s why she had been able to figure out what Sam needed so easily.

They both allowed the heat to build between them, and she could feel the wetness between her legs still making itself known. Her hips rolled closer to his, as they laid on their sides.

“Lay back,” he whispered. She obeyed eagerly and he sat up. His fingers went to the sides of her panties, and she quickly grabbed his hands. She felt her cheeks burn, embarrassment flooded her.

“Can we keep them on?” Her voice timid, and she inhaled shakily.

“Hey it’s okay,” he immediately used one arm to hold himself above her, cupping her face with the other, “You don’t need to be shy, but yeah whatever you need, Wyn.”

She smiled thankfully, “I’m sorry, I’m just not very… you know.”

“You’re not what?”

“I know, that physically, I’m not--”

“Actually, I’m gonna stop you right there,” Sam cut in, halting the self deprecating thought, “You are gorgeous !” She huffed. “You are,” he insisted, “Wyn what you do to me, I just - I can’t even begin to tell you what looking at you does to me,” he allowed his hands to trail down her side, slipping under her shirt and moving up. She peered into his eyes with ultimate trust. Then when he gently cupped her breast in his large hand, her eyes fluttered shut at the welcome feeling.

“Your eyes, your hair, your body . Every part,” Sam skilfully pushed her shirt above her breasts, not removing the garment to make sure she had a shield in case she got nervous. While one hand gently massaged her breast, he covered the other in fevered kisses. Then he captured her nipple in his lips, and his tongue flicked out teasing the hardening nub.

“Oh God, Sam…”

“I won’t do anything you aren’t ready for,” he whispered earnestly. His father's words echoing in his mind. Anything they did together, Sam didn’t want her to have any regrets.

Sam showered her body with loving attention. He was going to take his time to eliminate any reservations Wyn had about her body. He wanted her squirming and begging for his touch.

“I want to,” she managed, “Touch me!”


Sam propped himself up with one arm, allowing his other to trace a teasing line down her abdomen. A shiver spread through her extremities, leaving a warm desire between her folds. His long fingers found their way under the panty line, over the smooth outer lips, and gently pressed his middle finger down on her clit.

A desperate moan escaped her lips when he started slowly rubbing the sensitive nub. His skilled movements had her purring with pleasure.

“Ooh, oh my…”

She heard him let out a short laugh, “Is that a good sound?” He was obviously taking joy in his slow teasing.

“Yes. Good. All the good...ohh,” her babbling trailed off no longer able to string together coherent thoughts. She parted her legs, opening herself to his will. Sam's expression turned slightly predatory, and she liked it. She was a delectable meal just ready for him to devour. While he let his thumb continue to rub her clit, his two middle fingers traced her slick entrance. Between the soft breathy moans and whispers of Sam's name, a please broke through. He was all too willing to give her what she wanted. To distract her, Sam brought their lips together and shoved his tongue inside, and softly pushed his middle finger inside her.

Wyn gasped at the intrusion, and Sam soothed her gently, “Just breathe, okay? Am I hurting you?” She shook her head. “I’m gonna move a little bit,” he began pushing his finger deeper into her, until he felt his palm press against her clit. Then, just as slowly, he began pulling it out. Her left hand shot up to clutch his bicep, to grip, without halting his motion.

The slow drag, and new feeling almost sent her flying off into outer space. She didn’t know if it was because it was her first time, or if it was because it was with Sam, but what she felt was freaking incredible... Blessedly, Sam continued his slow gentle movement, gradually feeling her relax and begin to thrust with his hand.

Sam gazed at the beautiful site before him. Her auburn hair splayed messily on the pillow below her head, her T-shirt still on bunched above her breasts, her right hand playing with an exposed nipple, and Wyn a quivering mess with his hand down her cotton panties, now quite wet with her arousal.

“I think you’re ready for another,” His voice was low and animalistic. Sam staved off his own desire and simply pressed his now erect-again cock against her warm thigh. It was still slick from earlier. He couldn’t imagine how he would keep it together when they went all the way.

He had to clench his eyes and push down the vision the thought brought to mind. Maybe she would ride him, he thought. She had looked concerned about his size, this way she could take her time. Take inch by inch of his cock, slide down slow, tease him. Shaking his head he refocused on the pleasure needy girl next to him.

When his second finger slid in next to the other, she cried out throwing her head back against the pillow. He couldn’t help himself, when he saw the way her back arched, pelvis pressed to his hand and neck stretched back in submission, he dove forward teeth latching possessively on the skin, sucking a dark mark against the pale canvas.

Wyn panted, feeling like she was being pulled in and stretched out at the same time. His long digits pumped into her, coating them in her slick lubricant. Then, Sam curled his two fingers, as if he was beckoning the orgasm out of her, and she saw stars. The duel stimulation of the spot inside of her, and the intense play her clit was experiencing, made her feel like falling apart.

It was slightly terrifying.

Saaam…” the name drew out of her like a prayer. Asking. Pleading. Such sweet begging. “Please —ah, oh- SAM!” Her vaginal walls clenched and trembled as her orgasm hit her. She was completely unprepared for the waves of ecstasy that fell over her. Her hips bucked erratically, her back arched and toes curled tightly. Without thinking she pulled Sam face to hers, smashing their lips together a bit roughly. Their lips fought for dominance, while Sam helped her ride through her climax. It seemed he was close to completion again too. His hips thrust desperately against her hips. Then after a couple hard jerks, he grunted out, cum landing on her lower stomach.

Finally, they both collapsed back onto the mattress exhaustion catching up with them both. Teenage endurance only going so far.

Wyn shaking let out a satisfied and slightly sex delirious chuckle.

“Did you like that?” Sam grinned laying on his side resting his arm over her waist.

“That was… h-h-holy crap,” she let out on a disbelieving laugh, “orgasms are fun.”

He chuckled, nuzzling her jaw leaving a trail of kisses.

“If this is how you react to fingering, I can’t wait to see how you react to getting eaten out.”

The young girl looked at him, “So you meant it when you said you… you know?”

He quirked his head oddly, “Of course,” he kissed her lips, “I want to do anything that makes you feel good.”

“And would you want me to,” her eyes flickered to the still impressively sized length no longer pressed to her side, “do that to you?”

“You mean give me a blow job?”

She blushed, but nodded affirmatively. She wasn’t ashamed of her lack of experience just regretful at the chance of not making it the most pleasurable for Sam.

“Only if you want to. Just because I do something for you doesn’t mean you have to do the same. Whatever you feel comfortable with. And I’ll just put this out there too. I noticed you shaved down there. Now you do whatever you want, it doesn’t matter to me, but if you don’t wanna be completely bare down there, doesn’t make a difference.”

Wyn nodded, blushing slightly. She had been ‘preparing’ for more physical experiences. It was good to know that Sam didn’t seem to have a preference about her grooming habits. She realized she should feel odd about someone explaining all the subtle nuances and things that most people already knew going into sex, but Sam… Sam made all her questions seem okay. Natural even.

“Would you tell me what to do? Like you did just then?”

She looked at him with complete trust. The sight took his breath away. Sam smiled genuinely, “I’d do anything for you.”

He brought their lips together once more and kissed her deep. Pouring every ounce of passion her had into the kiss. Then he grabbed a tissue from her bedside table and wiped up the now cool ejaculate on her tummy, cleaned himself, then tossed the tissue in the can next to the bed. He found his boxers on the floor.

Once he had that single layer back on, he snuggled up beside her and turned her facing away from him. Their legs slotted together and his arms held her pressed to his chest. Carefully their fingers wove together, and Wyn let out a sigh of contented happiness.

Remembering quickly, she reached over to set her alarm on the bedside table clock. Her aunt wouldn’t be home till extremely late, but she didn’t want to risk them oversleeping. Then she allowed herself to melt into the arms of her lover. Joyful warmth spread through her at the thought of that word. Lover.She could feel Sam gently tucking her hair out of the way so it didn’t touch the back of her neck nor his face, then she listened to the gentle sound of his breath. Before long, her eyes fell shut, knowing she was the happiest she ever remembered being.

Chapter Text


Winter break was at hand. Exams were done, much to the delectation of each student. Wyn waved farewell to David and Claire as they left the Biology room for the last time. Snow had started to fall, and was proceeding to cover the ground in a soft white blanket. She kissed Sam goodbye, him promising to call her later that night. Waving as Sam drove away in the Impala with his father, who was about to leave town again. Just in time, too. Weather stations had been predicting a terrible snow storm about to hit the area.

The young girl turned down the street headed toward the hospital just a mile up the road. By the time she reached the hospital, the wind had picked up. Cutting through her winter coat. She signed in on the visitor list, and headed back to Aunt Stacy’s area.

“Hey Melissa!”

A warm and slightly lined face, framed by long dark curls, peered up at her from the nurses’ desk chair. Melissa Hale was in her early forties and had started at the hospital just a few years before. Aunt Stacy had taken her under wing as the head ER nurse.

“Bronwyn! Good to see you. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, Sorry, this semester's been pretty distracting. How goes the saving of lives?”

“Bloody and smelly. How about you? I heard about your new gentleman friend,” the woman stood and met her on the other side, both leaning on the high counter. “Is he hot?”

“So hot!” Wyn pulled out her phone to show a picture on the tiny screen.

“Oh good lord those dimples! You could go swimming in ‘em.”

Wyn let out a laugh, staring fondly at the picture. “Yeah, and he’s so sweet and crazy smart! I can’t believe he fell for me of all people.”

“Stop it! You are a beautiful strong young lady blossoming into a stunning woman. Trust me. I’m a pretty good source on attractive women.”

“Will there be a future Mrs. Hale any time soon?”

“Oh you know, no one wants to settle down with an old maid like me.”

“Maybe you just haven’t found the right woman yet. Or maybe the right woman is just around the corner.”

“Bronwyn Sweetie!” Aunt Stacy came bounding around the corner and the two straightened. From the corner of her eye Wyn could see Melissa straighten her scrubs. “You ready to go?” She asked the young teen.


“Great. Lemme just do one last thing and we’re out of here. You alright Mel?”

“Me? Yeah, yup. Great. All good here. You ladies have a good night. See you tomorrow, Stace!” And the nurse smiled brightly.


Within a few minutes, Wyn was pushing a cart down the aisles of a particularly crowded grocery store. Aunt Stacy in front of her, parting the crowd like a salmon going upstream. She was glad her Aunt was there with her. The matriarchal figure was fearless. She might have been a Christian, but she’d be damned if that little old lady thought she could steal the last two gallons of milk and bags of bread from their cart.

“People are animals! Good Lord!” Aunt Stacy let out a grunt when a young mother holding two crying children in her arms shoved by and one child’s shoe collided with her ribs.

“You alright?” Wyn cringed sympathetically.

“Fantastic. Come on. We need to grab a couple more things. Can you get TP then meet me up front?”

Wyns anxiety ticked up another notch, already high from entering the store. Alright sack up Wyn. The teen nodded, and turned the cart towards the aisle needed. She grabbed the brand with the little bears that Aunt Stacy always bought, and when she turned around she saw a middle aged man grabbing one of the packs of bottled water from under her cart.

“HEY!” The man quickly tucked it under his arm and ran down the aisle. “Fine asshole! Karma’s a bitch!” She shouted after the man making several judgemental glances turn her way.

Frustrated tears stung her eyes. Quickly, she took a deep breath and blew out through pursed lips. She shook her head. It didn’t matter, no need to get upset. The water bottles were just for backup, and they had plenty.

Deciding to push it aside, Wyn made her way to the front of the store, where lines were the longest she’d ever seen.


She turned her head to see her aunt squeeze herself between two rather overweight gentlemen, and stumbled toward her. The older woman straightened, a proud look of victory on her face, and thrust her arms forward showing off the trophies in each hand. One hand a carton of eggnog and a bottle of Malibu Rum in the other. “The essentials!” The nurse declared proudly.




“Ya finish that research for me?” John asked without taking his eyes off the increasingly snowy roads.

Sam pulled the folder he had prepared for his father's latest hunt out of his bag. He had to give his father credit. John was trying. Since he had started dating Bronwyn, his Dad seemed to have resisted arguing with him. There were times when Sam was sure they were about to have another blow up argument, but to his surprise John would back off and change the subject.

“Should have everything you need,” Sam explained. “Has about four different historical lore origins, but they’re all pretty similar. How to Kill is pretty standard. I also included all updated Death reports I could find.”

“Good. Now, I’m gonna drop you off at the garage. I’m leaving the Impala with you guys. My truck does better in the snow anyway. I should be back in time for Christmas.”

Sam rolled his eyes. It would be the first one in a long time he managed to show up for. But he didn’t feel like pointing that out. Pre-hunt John Winchester was not to be fucked with. Hell, a pre- coffee John Winchester shouldn’t be trifled with, but more so when he was prepped for a hunt. “Where was Bronwyn headed, by the way? I would driven her home.”

The question gave Sam a moment of whiplash at the sudden change of subject. “Oh, no, she was heading to the hospital to meet up with her Aunt. It’s just a half mile up the road. She insisted on walking. Wyn loves the snow. She said it’s like magic that makes everything clean and bright, and it’s like everyone has a second chance.” Sam laughed thinking of how giddy she had been when the white flakes started falling outside the window during their AP Bio Final.

“Sam,” John’s voice was slightly tight and Sam recognized that tone, “I actually wanted to talk to you about that.”

“About Bronwyn?”

“I know you two are getting... close. And I know that I caved, and agreed to let you finish school in one place, but-“

“But what?” Sam clenched his jaw staring straight ahead.

“You need to… be prepared for the inevitable. When the school year’s up, and she goes off to college… I know you may not want to hear this, but I don’t want you to get too attached. This life,” John gestured to nothing in particular, “she doesn’t need to be pulled into this. Maybe it’s better if you end things before—“

“Before what Dad!?” Sam turned his gaze sharply, “Before she gets hurt? Before you change your mind and pull me out of school? Before I fall in love with her?”

“I’m not trying to pick a fight...”

“You’re such a hypocrite! You raised us like we can’t let anyone else in. You’ve burned about every bridge you ever had, and this life? The whole reason you pulled me and Dean into this was because of Mom. And you loved her!”

“Sammy, that was different. Mary and I were married and happy, then she…” John’s voiced trailed slightly. Sam knew he was using memory of his mother to appeal to the last little bit of normalcy John clung to. It still made him sad to see his Dad look so broken. Even after 18 years. “What happened to you mother… I will never forgive myself. I wasn’t able to keep her safe. I wasn’t able to keep my family safe,” John’s voice adopted his drill sergeant tone, “And you want to bring someone you care about into this? Son, she has a chance at a normal life.” Sam felt his heart sink at his father’s words and their implication. John didn’t see Sam ever having a normal life. “It’s not fair to take that away from her. The job is important, and we can’t afford distractions.”

Sam held his tongue, knowing that anything he would say would just result in more arguing. The rest of the ride to Dean’s garage was filled with tense silence. Both the Winchesters knew this argument was far from over.


When they finally arrived, Sam practically jumped from the Impala, as soon as it was parked, and stormed off into the garage where he knew Dean would be. He took a seat on his normal stool at his brothers work space, waiting for John to hand the keys off the Dean. His brother peaked up from under the hood of a BMW he was working on.

“Where’s Dad?”

“Office, I think. Talking to Mr. Jefferson.”

Dean perceived his little brother with a curious look. When Sam entered the garage, Dean instantly knew something was wrong. Then, when his Dad went full on drill sergeant giving him orders for while he was out of town, Dean took the intuitive leap that they had been fighting...again. After seeing his father off, and the taillights of the pick-up were out of sight, he returned inside. He saw Sam still on his stool, his expression uneasy and pensive.

The older brother rolled his eyes and grabbed his wrench from the tool box on the ground, then he slid under the car on the rolling side plank.

“Alright, out with it.”

“Out with what?” Sam turned to his brother, brow furrowed.

“Come on man. you got bitch face. Somethin’s buggin ya.”

“I’m gonna tell Bronwyn.”

“Yeah? Tell her what?” Dean grunted as the bolt he had been working on finally loosened.

“About us. The life. Everything.”

Silence. Dean slowly appeared from under the car. Sam fixed him with a determined gaze. He wasn’t going to let his big brother steamroll him.  “Sam—“

“I can’t keep lying to her.”

Dean shot to his feat, his anger echoing in the empty garage, “Sam, if you tell her, what do you thinks gonna happen, huh? She’s gonna think you’re nuts. And then I’m gonna have to deal with your mopey loser ass.”

“You don’t know that. Not for sure.”

“I don’t care how much of a hard on you got for her--”

“That’s not what this is about!”

“IT’S NOT JUST YOUR SECRET!” Dean threw his tool down aggressively on the workbench close to him, “Me and Dad - the family secret! You know the rule, we do what we do and we shut up about it.”

“I love her, Dean.” Sam’s voice was pleading, slight fear laced the comment. Dean sighed heavily, broad shoulders heaving.

“Damnit, Sam… no. You can’t tell her.”

“Why not? She’ll believe me!”

“Okay, then, she believes you! Then what? She’ll want nothing to do with you, and run screaming in the other direction.”

Sam’s face fell. Dean had picked up on his biggest fear. Regular people when they found out either went into full denial or thanked them for saving their lives then went about their lives keeping out of the darkness in whatever way they could. No one willing ran towards that darkness. Evil. Chaos. Wyn was the warm light in a sea of monsters and nightmares.

“Sammy,” Deans sympathetic big brother tone surfaced, “Look, I’m sorry, man, but that’s the way it’s gotta be. Besides, it’s safer if she stays out of the life.”

Sam clenched his jaw and tore his eyes away from Dean. Knowing he had won the argument, even if it was with a low blow. He didn’t want to lose the one good thing in his life. He couldn’t lose her.  




Wyn sat on the sofa, fire roaring, in her pajamas. She unfolded one of the many fleece blankets the two ladies kept stuffed into every spare storage space in the house, wrapping it around her form. Aunt Stacy entered the living room holding two steaming mugs. “What’d I miss?”

“Nothing. Haven’t hit play yet. I was waiting for you!” Wyn grinned reaching for the caramel popcorn on the coffee table. They were having their annual watching of It’s a Wonderful Life . The TV mounted on the wall, surrounded by tinsel and garland that Aunt Stacy had insisted upon.

“Here,” The nurse sat cross legged on the seat next to her, holding out a mug. Then pulled it back slightly, catching her nieces eye. “Since you’re 18, and this is a special occasion, I put some rum in your eggnog!” Wyn’s eyes widened. This was only the second occasion she had been allowed alcohol. On her birthday, Stacy had let her drink a glass of a sweet moscato wine. Of course, with a mini-lecture on how alcohol abuse can destroy your body, but she wanted Wyn to be familiar with the feeling.

“Thanks!” Wyn quickly grabbed the cup, and took a sip, “Oh wow! That’s yummy!”

“And that’s why you only get one. It’s harder to gauge how much you’re drinking with the sweet stuff. It covers the strong taste.”

Wyn took another sip, and shook her head quickly, “Woo! Wow, yeah, I see why delinquency is tempting,” And reached for the remote to play the movie. Aunt Stacy reached out gently to halt her reach.

“Just a sec. I wanted to talk to you about something.”

The young girl gave her Aunt a funny look, not sure what it could be, “Okay…” She turned herself to cross her legs and face the older woman, “What’s up?”

Suddenly, Wyn saw her Aunt differently. The older woman sat before her, looking into her eyes with a melancholy smile. A messy bun on her head, her laugh lines visible in the firelight. “You’re growing up so fast… you’re smart, driven, kind…” Stacy reached out and tucked a loose hair behind Wyn’s ear. “You have such an amazing future ahead of you.”

“What’s this about?” She was starting to get concerned at her Aunt's sudden sentimentality.

“You and Sam have been getting close. Now, I don’t know how serious it is, but I need to know… Are you two having sex?”

“What?!” Wyn choked out in surprise.

“If you are, it’s okay, I just wanna know you’re being safe.”

“I--” the young girl wrestled in her mind what all she could tell her Aunt. This was brand new territory for the both of them. She finally spoke, her voice just above a whisper, “No… we haven’t had sex.”

Aunt Stacy took a deep breath and nodded, “I’m not gonna tell you to wait until you’re married… that would be hypocritical. But I do want you to wait until you’re really ready. I know how it feels, to get swept up in the feeling of being with someone else. Had my fair share of boyfriends… girlfriends, too.” The nurse winked disarmingly, and Wyn couldn’t hold back a small grin. “Sex is something you should share with someone you love. Someone that cares deeply about you. It’s vulnerable and intimate, it should be with someone who loves you for you.” Wyn couldn’t help, but smile at her Aunt’s words, thinking of how well they matched Sam. “But you have to be smart. Use a condom every time, and I would recommend getting on birth control. I don’t want you to be in a position where you have to sacrifice your future. And… when you do decide to be active, you can talk to me. You can talk to me about anything…”

“I know.”

“I’m so happy for you. Sam is a good guy. You deserve happiness.” Aunt Stacy leaned in holding Wyn close, and kissed her forehead. “I love you Snickerdoodle…”

“I love you, too.” Wyn smiled and felt warmth surround her. Life at that moment was perfect. Wyn reached for the remote once again and pressed play. Then the duo sat back, Wyn passing Stacy the popcorn, and snuggled up for their favorite movie night of the year.




The storm was one for the ages. At least that what the weatherman was saying. Storm of the century, apparently. Wyn peered out the window to see the snow, had now completely covered the ground and was already a few inches deep, with no sign of slowing down.

When she woke up, Wyn could already hear the wind howling. Her visibility didn’t go past the mailbox. Now her concern of losing power seemed more and more likely. Suddenly, she was very glad they stocked up on supplies the couple days before. If the power went out they would be okay. Their stove ran on natural gas, so they would be able to cook they’d just need to use matches to light the flame. Their water heater tank didn’t rely on electricity, so they’d have hot water. The central heat would die, but there was a fireplace in the living room and one in the master bedroom. Worse case scenario they would survive.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. And smiled seeing it was Sam.

“Hey! It’s really starting to get bad out there. How’s it there?”

“The entire building just lost power.” His voice was tight. “A bunch of our neighbors are already leaving to go stay with relatives that have generators before things get worse.”

Concern festered in her gut. The storm was just getting started. It was definitely going to get worse. Much worse. “Where’s Dean?”

“He’s helping his boss lock down the garage. He’s storing the Impala there during the storm. Mr. Jefferson said he’d give him a ride back since his truck has snow tires. Dean’s gonna be pissed when he finds out everything’s dead.”

“Does the building not have a generator? They’re supposed to, especially if everything is electric.”

“No,” the frustration in Sam’s voice was evident, “landlord said he’d been meaning to replace it, but didn’t get around to it before this storm hit. Of course, now all the stores are sold out.”

“You and Dean can stay here!”

“... really?” He sounded mildly surprised.

“Of course! It sounds like this storm could last for a while. Might be without power for a few days. I’ll call Aunt Stacy to let her know.”

“That… that would be amazing. Honestly, Wyn thank you!”

She blushed. “What? You think I’d let you guys freeze to death? I’m a pretty big fan of the non-icicle boyfriend that I have currently, thank you!”

She heard a soft chuckle on the other end. “Yeah, I guess not. Alright, I’ll call Deans cell, get some stuff together. And I guess, Corey can just take us to your house, since he’s right across the street!”

“Comin’ up roses! Text me when you’re on your way.”




“Man - Fuck Oregon!” Dean pushed past the open door, nearly knocking Wyn over in his hurry to get inside the warmth of the house.

“Dean!” Sam scolded, before reaching out for Wyn, “What he means is, Thank you for welcoming us into your lovely home!” Wyn laughed, and he gave her a quick peck.

“What he said,” Dean said shivering violently, sitting in front of the fireplace holding his hands and feet close to the warmth. His gloves and dripping boots laying next to the hearth.

“Come in, quick, gotta keep the warmth in while we still have central heat.” Sam hurried in, kicking off his shoes next to the entrance, and hanging his jacket on the hook on the wall. She turned smiling, then locked the door behind her. Sam shivered once, twice, then joined Dean in front of the fire.

“Seriously, though, Wyn,” Dean’s green eyes lit by the orange glow of the fire looked at her, expressing genuine emotion, “Thanks! We were screwed. I mean we’ve gone camping and it’s been cold, but never like this!”

“Mi casa es su casa!”

As of now, the power was still on in their neighborhood. Wyn had checked all their supplies, they had two cases of bottled water just in case the water heater failed and the pipes froze, tons of canned food, three loaves of bread, all the sandwich fixins, and plenty of stovetop options. Wyn even bought marshmallows. The buzzing of Wyn’s phone on the coffee table caught all their attention.

“Stacy?” Sam guessed.

“Yeah. I wasn’t able to get a hold of her earlier. Hospital must be slammed.” She flipped open her phone, “Hey Aunt Stacy, you get my message?”

“I did. And tell those boys to make themselves at home!”

Wyn smiled, “She says make yourselves at home.”

“On it,” Dean called rising to his feet heading for the kitchen. Apparently, the call of food was stronger than his need for a hot fire at the moment. At least the house was holding the heat well.

“It’s a circus here. Are you guys alright?” Wyn could hear the hectic sounds of the emergency room in the background.

“Yeah, Mr. Jefferson actually drove Dean and Sam over. Wind is picking up though. Do you think you’ll be able to make it home?”

“...I don’t think so sweetie. I heard they’re going to shut down the roads.”

“Shut down the roads? But how will you--”

“I’ll be fine sweetheart, don’t worry. The hospital has two back up generators, the cafeteria is stocked with plenty of food to keep everyone fed. Now, if there’s an emergency, I want you to go over to the Jeffersons. I want you to conserve your phone battery. Turn it on at noon each day for an hour, that way if we need to communicate we’ll know when to send texts. There should be plenty of wood out in the shed in case you lose power.”

“Actually, we might be alright.” There was click, the lights went black, and the sound of air flowing through the vents stopped. “Strike that - just lost power.”

“You checked the batteries in the flashlights?”

“Yup. Guess we’ll just have to hunker down and ride it out… do you--” Wyn checked the room and saw Sam had joined his brother in the kitchen. “Do you think you’ll be home for Christmas? I don’t know if I can…”

“... I know, sweetheart. I’ll be home as soon as I can. Call if you need, I’ll keep my phone charged. Those roll out cots are in the upstairs closet. Figured they might be more comfortable with the fireplace, instead of the guest room. But I want you sleeping in your own bed, you hear me?”

“Yes, Ma’am I hear you. Stay safe!”

“I love you sweet girl.”

“I love you, too.”

A soft click and the line disconnected. Wyn checked her battery life. 80%. Not bad. She turned off the phone to be safe, and entered the kitchen. Dean had made himself a sandwich that looked like something Shaggy and Scooby would eat. Sam was evaluating the pantry.

“Glad to see you made yourself comfortable,” she chuckled at Dean’s puffed out cheeks when he took a large bite.

“Hey! You schead thah--”

“I’m teasing Dean!” Sam chuckled, grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl on the counter. “Well, boys. Pantry is fully stocked. I put all the perishables in the freezer, and there’s another freezer in the garage. As long as we don’t open them a lot it should insulate the cold. Shed’s got plenty of wood, but we’ll have to cut the spare logs. Should be good for a while though, I brought in enough wood to keep us going for the next day or so.”

“You brought in all that wood?” Sam asked.

Wyn held up her palms showing a few bandages on her fingers, “Got the splinters to prove it. So… anyone up for Monopoly?”


The rest of the evening was spent in comfort and conversation. Dean and Bronwyn engaged in a lively debate over whether or not Billy Joel was indeed considered rock. Which led to Dean perusing the record collection from Aunt Stacy’s college days.

“Dude! Your Aunt has the original “White Album”?! Holy Hell, Led Zeppelin 1-4! I am officially in love with Stacy Evans!” He declared proudly to the room. Wyn and Sam smiled affectionately at his child-like excitement. They made tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches on the stove top for dinner. Dean had taken it upon himself to brave the elements and cut some more wood, before dark.  

When they all began yawning in tandem, Sam helped Wyn bring down the cots for the Winchester boys to use, along with a huge stack of blankets. She tucked extra pillows on top of the stack, and carefully maneuvered down the stairs.

“You ain’t joining us?” Dean questioned, noting just two cots.

“No, I told Aunt Stacy I’d sleep in my own room,” Wyn explained, exchanging a knowing look with Sam.

“And you’re actually going to?” Wyn nodded smiling. “Aww, look at you Good Lil’ Christian girl!” Dean teased playfully, she just rolled her eyes. “Good Night Dean!” She turned toward the stairs, and Sam accompanied her.

“You’re sure you don’t wanna stay down here?” Sam’s eyes did that puppy dog look he always used when he was trying to get his way. “We can use each other for warmth.” His smile suggestive.

“Aunt Stacy trusts me. If she wants us in separate beds, then so be it… for now.”

“Okay,” he pouted, over exaggerating his lower lip. “Good night.”

“Good night, Sam,” Wyn leaned in, pressing their lips together. The tall boy pulled her body close, arms wrapped around her waist. Their lips moved sweetly with each other. Sam tongue lapped over her bottom lip, teasing his way in her mouth. She grinned into the kiss, before tearing herself away.

Sam gave her a final pleading look, she shook her head, and turned up the stairs. In her room, she fixed the bedding with the quilt Stacy had made for her when she was little. Her eyes flickered to her vanity, her gaze locked onto the gold pocket watch she had been keeping in her locker. She had brought it home for the break. A sad feeling washed over her, before shaking it off, not wanting the day to be tainted.

She snuggled under her covers, wrapping up in her cocoon of blankets. Within minutes, her eyes felt heavy and she fell into a peaceful sleep… at least it was peaceful to start.




Bronwyn’s scream pierced the night, and Sam bolted upright. Deans motion matched his own, his gun already cocked and ready. Sam grabbed the iron poker from the side of the fireplace, and they both raced upstairs. Sam got to the door of her bedroom, grabbed the knob and found it was stuck, and refused to budge. Wyn’s cries still coming from inside. The younger Winchester kicked the door open with a shot of adrenaline. His eyes immediately shot between a terrified Bronwyn and the male figure standing at the foot of her bed, arm extended out towards the young girl. The figure flickered.

“Sam it’s a ghost!” Dean hollered from behind him, then Sams reflexes swung into action, bringing the fire poker over his head and swinging it down hard slashing through the spirit. Then the figure disintegrated into blackish grey smoke.

“Wyn?” Sam looked at her, and she was shaking. In an instant he was at her side, holding her, “It’s okay, you’re safe. You’re safe, I got you.”

“Sam, get her downstairs!” Dean ordered, already picking up the iron weapon from the foot of the bed, and carefully examined the room prepared for any more apparitions.

“Wyn, I need to you to follow me,” Sam stood holding her, her eyes frozen with fear still locked at the empty space the ghostly figure had been occupying. “Come on, let’s get out of here,” he whispered encouragingly. His words finally stirred her to action. Wyn managed to grab her warm robe before Sam rushed her out the door and down the stairs. He made a beeline for the sofa, the fire starting to die down.

Taking action, Sam sat his love down, and quickly wrapped a spare blanket over her shoulders, before adding two logs to the fire.

“Wyn, Look at me,” he took her head in his hands, gently brushing her face out of her face, “are you okay?”

The young girls eyes full of questioning horror, “It was… was that--”

“A ghost,” Sam confirmed.

She shook her head fervently, “No, that’s not-- it’s not possible.”

Deans heavy steps sounded down the steps, entered the room the iron poker still in hand down by his side, “Looks like it’s gone for now, but it’ll be back.”

Wyn looked between the brothers in fearful disbelief, tears rising up, “What’s going on?”

“Well, Sam, you get what ya wanted, ghosts are real, hun.”

“No…” she shook her head in weak denial.

“Yup, and ghouls, and werewolves, and a whole bunch of other things that go bump in the night.”

Wyn turned her gaze back to Sam, the only rock in a sea of utter terror.

“He’s telling the truth. Dean, me and our Dad… we hunt them. That’s the ‘family business’ I don’t like to talk about.”

“You hunt them? Like the freakin’ Ghostbusters?”

Dean smirked at his brother proud of the analogy, and Sam chuckled, “Sorta, only less crossing the streams.”

“So that… he was ghost?”

“Yeah, he was,” Dean said lowering himself to one knee in front of the duo, “but ghosts usually only haunt the place they lived or died. Did anyone die in this house that you know of?”

“I… I don’t know. I don’t think so…”

“But if he died here, then why just show up now?” Sam reasoned, “Can you remember what he looked like? Any details?”

“I know him, -- knew him at least.”

“Who was he?” Sam asked gently, still attempting to soothe and comfort her.

“His name was Greg Mills,” her voice laced with sadness. Up till now she had been in denial, still hoping for the best.

“Wait, that janitor that went missing?” Sam’s face was perplexed, “Why would he be haunting you?”

“I don’t know… it was like he was trying to say something, and he was reaching out to me, I don’t think he wanted to hurt me… he was always really nice to me. Sometimes we’d talk when I stayed late in the library.”

“You were friends with the janitor?” Dean asked, not trying to mask his judgement.

“Okay, yes, I’m a loser. That’s been established. Why would he want to haunt me?”

“No clue,” Dean pondered, “but the way to get rid of a restless spirit is to salt and burn the remains.”

“But they never found his body,” Wyn said shaking her head, “he’s been missing for months, and police have no idea what happened to him. I thought… I was hoping he was still alive. I wanted to give him his watch back…” she lowered her gaze and stared at her hands.

Sam and Dean exchanged surprised looks and turned to the young girl expectantly, “His watch?” Dean inquired rather impatiently.

“Yeah,” she continued giving them both odd looks, “his gold pocket watch. I found it at school a couple months ago, and… I don’t know-- I was holding onto it for him. He doesn’t have any family.”

“Wyn, is that watch still at school?”

“No. I was worried about it getting stolen over break so I brought it home for safe keeping.”

“Where is it?” Sam pushed.

“In my room. On my vanity.”

“You think?” Sam looked to Dean.
“That’d be my guess,” Dean stood upright and charged upstairs, presumably to get the watch.

“We have to destroy the watch,” Sam stood as well, going straight for the kitchen.

“What? Why?” She tailed him trying to play catch up to the brothers.

“Sometimes,” Sam spoke as he searched through the cabinets, “a spirit can attach itself to an object. Usually, it’s something that was important or personal to them when they were alive. Got it!” He pulled out the large container of salt. “His spirit must have attached itself to the watch, and when you brought it home, he came too.” Sam rushed back to the living room, with Wyn right on his heels. Dean was already standing before the fire with the watch in hand.

“Let’s light it up!”

“Look out!” Wyn cried seeing the figure of Greg Mills behind Dean. Suddenly, Dean was flung back knocking the sofa over on its back. The watch clattered to the floor.

“DEAN!” Sam charged, and he too was thrown, and pinned against the far wall. In the blink of an eye, the ghostly figure wrapped his hands around Sams neck. Sam clutched at his arms trying to pry them off his windpipe.

Wyn was panicking, but then she saw the watch laying in front of the fireplace. Her eyes darted to the salt container on the floor. She grabbed the salt and ran to the fire place. Thinking quickly she threw the watch to the fire, poured salt into the palm of her hand and tossed it into the fire. Turning around she saw the look of shock on the ghostly form of Greg Mills, he dropped Sam, and reached his arm out to Wyn. Just like he had upstairs. His mouth formed like he was trying to speak, then a horrible screech erupted from his throat and he went up in flames.

Then there was nothing.

Wyn could hardly believe what had just happened. Sam stood hand to his throat coughing, rubbing the skin of his neck. Dean groaned rousing back into consciousness, and rose to his feet.

“A-are you guys alright?”

“Aces,” Sam scoffed out.

“Golden,” the older Winchester rubbed his head, having knocked it pretty hard, “Wyn, where’s your aunt keep the good stuff?”


Dean had poured two fingers of bourbon into three glasses, and passed the two extras to Sam. Wyn retrieved the first aid it from under the kitchen sink, and Dean’s minor cut on his head, had been tended, too. Sam peered at Wyn with trepidation. She sat on the now upright sofa, staring into the fire. The melted remains of the pocket watch charring. Sam took a seat next to her, wordlessly offering her the glass.

Wyn, peered at the drink, debating. Then took it and downed the glass, she grimaced. Then, handed the glass back to him.
“So you hunt monsters?” She turned her body to face Sam, and he mirrored her movement. Dean must have sensed their energy, as he made himself scarce, retreating upstairs under the guise of making sure everything was clear.

Sam nodded, lowering his gaze. As if he was afraid to look at her. “Yeah… I’m sorry I never told you.” Wyn just continued to gaze at him, like she was trying to figure something out. “And hey, I get it know, if this is too much.”

“What are you talking about?”

“If you don’t want anything to do with this. With me.”

“Are you crazy?” Sam tilted his head resembling a confused puppy. Wyn shook her head, “Why would I not want anything to do with you? Yeah, this is… a lot . But I’m not walking away from you.”

The smile that broke across his face was heartbreaking. She pulled his face to hers, and kissed him deeply. “In case you haven’t figured it out yet, I’m crazy about you, Sam Winchester!” She smiled brightly, and his eyes glassy returned the emotion. “I do have a couple questions, though…”

“Anything!” Eager puppy rising back to the surface.

“Does this have anything to do with Halloween?”

“Ah, yeah,” Sam nodded his head, remembering the drama. “Dean and I were hunting a werewolf. We figured out it’s trail, and it was right where the students were camping. Luckily, only Wendy and Mike saw it. It knocked Mike out and almost got Wendy. We got there just in time.”

Wyn’s eyes widened. Synapses in her brain fired away as the memory pieces fell into place. Everything made much more sense.

“Have you always known about this stuff?”

“Not always… found out when I was about eight.”


“Dean was four… It was… our Mom was killed by something. My Dad found her. He still doesn’t like to talk about it. All we know, is that whatever it was set fire to my nursery. I don’t even remember, I was still a baby.”

A chill settled over Wyn. It had nothing to do with the storm still raging outside. “Fire?”

“Yeah,” Sam’s brow furrowed at the unnerved look on her face, “you okay?”

“I don’t believe it. He was right…” Tears stung the young girls eyes, her lip wobbled.

“Wyn, you’re scaring me.” Sam took her hand between his, rubbing slightly. She held his gaze apprehensively.

“You’ve heard what people say about me at school, right?” Sam’s jaw tightened, face going neutral telling her all she needed to know. She figured he had tried to ignore the rumors, but it was high school. Gossip was unavoidable. “That my Mom died, and my Dad… went crazy?” He didn’t say anything just nodded curtly. “The night I turned six months old, Christmas Eve.” Tomorrow, 18 years ago. “A fire broke out in my nursery, too. Dad, apparently ran in, but it was too late. But what he saw… he said that Mom was pinned to the ceiling - burning. He grabbed me, but he saw it, the thing that… claimed he saw what started the fire. He told the police it was a monster…”

Sam’s eyes were wide, shaky breath passed through parted lips. His form shaking. Wyn sensed the gravity. It was as if the universe had been preparing for this very revelation. Something much bigger was at work in their lives.

“A monster?” Sam asked, his voice shaky.

“I never knew why he thought that, that maybe he just blamed himself. Everyone thought he was just crazy with grief. Then… I don’t know. He really did start to lose it. The state took me away from him. I got put in the foster system for a couple months. They institutionalized him. Aunt Stacy had to fight for custody. By then, Dad was completely gone psychologically. We visit him usually at least once a year, but… I’m not even sure he knows we’re there... Or who I am.” Tears stung her eyes and she took a shuddering breath.

Sam swallowed visibly, his adam’s apple bobbed. “Oh my God…”

“And now… it looks like my Father was right all along, and you tell me something similar happened to your mom—“

“Not just similar, the same.”

“What?” Wyn felt her gut fill with lead.

“Exactly the same. The fire, ceiling, the nursery... Wyn, I think the same thing killed our mothers.”

“Sam, what the hell is going on?” They were both shaking.

“I don’t know…”

Not knowing what else to do, she dove close to him wrapping her arms around his waist, and buried her face in his shoulder, “Sam, I’m scared.” Sam just held her. No words of comfort, to not be scared, because she could feel it. He was scared, too.

“I gotta tell Dean.”

Wyn tensed. The thought of more people knowing. The looks she always got. Things would never be the same again. She had found such relief through Sam, and by extension Dean. They treated her like she was normal. Not some pathetic little orphan freak.

“I can do the talking,” he whispered into her soft auburn hair.

“Do we have to?” Her question full of meekness.

Sam took a long breath, choosing his words carefully. “Wyn, this is big. And in a way it kinda involves him to.” He had a point. “Besides, we can ask Dad for help. He’s been hunting this thing, and searching for answers my whole life. If the same thing killed our mothers, then maybe…” The silence lingered.

She could almost hear the hopeful words trapped within his heart. Find it, and kill it. Nodding, she pulled away to look into his hazel eyes. A plethora of emotion reflected back at her, as well as questions. What did this mean? Was it just a coincidence… Or something deeper?

“How do you do this?”

“What do you mean?” He titled his head in confusion.

“I mean this life. Monsters. Ghosts. Demons. It’s all, so... does it make you happy?”

“I,” Sam stopped. “When we save people, it feels good. Great, even. I mean, knowing that we save lives, kill evil things… it’s important, but I’ve wanted something else for a long time.”

“You want to go to school. To go to Stanford.” She finished his thought, knowing the desire for more he carried with him.

“And maybe , if we can find this thing… maybe it’ll be over. Maybe I can have a life. A life where I’m not constantly searching through coroners reports and monster lore, a real apple pie life.” His eyes locked on to hers. “A life with you.”

Wyn let out a soft laugh, and tearfully beheld him. “I trust you.” And she did. Wholeheartedly.

Sam clenched his eyes shut, hand darting to the back of her head, and tangled in her hair. He pulled to press their foreheads together. “Wyn… Wyn, I —“

“So Bronwyn, You crazy kids talk it out?” The teens turned surprised at the older Winchester’s sudden entrance. Dean’s gaze darted between the two. “What’s wrong?”

“You should sit down, Dean.”




Chapter Text

Dean sat in awe of the earth shattering revelation. Before him sat the two scared teenagers, dimly lit by the fireplace. They meekly stared at him waiting for his response. Honestly, he couldn’t land on either dismissing it all as a coincidence or freaking the fuck out. And really, who was he kidding? With their luck, it wasn’t just a coincidence. His thoughts raced, one hand rubbing his face halting over his mouth, a tense breath escaping.

“Wow… okay, um…” Dean shook his head, leaned forward and rested his head in his hands. How the hell was he supposed to process this? His whole life, Sam’s whole life, his job had been to protect his little brother. Look after your brother, Dean! It had been drilled into him, since that fateful night. He had to protect Sam. And now… Bronwyn. He didn’t need to be told to look after her. The strong desire to keep her safe should have surprised him, but, just seeing the effect she had on Sam’s life was enough to dissuade any doubts. But how? How was he supposed to protect them from this?  

Sam exchanged a nervous glance with Bronwyn his arm wrapped around her. “We have to tell Dad,” Dean spoke finally able to articulate, “obviously this isn’t something I can explain over the phone, but I’ll tell him to finish up his hunt as quick as he can. When he gets back we’ll all talk together,” His green eyes fell on Wyn, her knees bouncing, fingers clenching into the fabric of her cotton pajama pants. Sam reached around and placed his hands on hers. Dean’s lips curled up on one side. At least they didn’t have to face this alone.

“Wyn, did your Aunt ever talk to you about what happened?”

“Just what she knew, and that wasn’t a lot. When my mom was killed, Aunt Stacy was finishing her nursing certification. She wasn’t even able to make it to the funeral. By the time she was able to come back to Kansas, Child Protective Services had already taken me away from my dad, and he was just saying exactly what I told you. That something had killed Mom, something not human.”

Dean exhaled, eyelids closed. He and Sam were actually lucky in that regard. Things could have gone completely different for them. All it would have taken, a simple phone call, and they could have been taken away from their father. He had heard horror stories of siblings being separated not able to find each other until years later. The thought made him nauseous. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it,” he reassured her sensing the fear rolling off her in waves. “Is there anything we can do for you?”

Bronwyn sat quietly, clinging to Sam thinking. Her eyes meekly met Dean’s, “There’s one thing.”

“Name it.”

“I want you guys to teach me about all of this. This monster stuff. I want to be prepared if I encounter something else.”

“Wyn,” Dean spoke with gentle warning, “it’s not just what you know… You saw me and Sam. We nearly got our asses handed to us, and that was just an angry spirit. You could get hurt.”

“Then teach me to fight!”

Dean exchanged an amused glance with his little brother. Yeah, Dean liked this girl.


Wyn slept in the living room with them the rest of the night, deciding her aunts request didn’t apply post-ghost attack. She curled up on the cot next to Sam. Dean heard their quiet whispers just above the crackling of the fire, then eventually, the steady breaths and gentle snores that came from them. When morning came, the eerie silence of snow still surrounded the home, though it seemed the storm had passed. While the older Winchester prepped omelets for everyone, Sam and Wyn had retreated upstairs, not being at all subtle at their desire for privacy. He took as long as possible to give them as much time as they needed.

After much previous pestering, he managed to pull from Sam that they hadn’t slept together... yet. But judging from the way they couldn’t keep their hands off each other, Dean knew it was just a matter of time. Brotherly pride swelled within him at the thought of Sammy finally gettin’ some. But more than that… he was happy Sam found someone he could depend on. Sam needed to have more than just Dean in his life. When the two teens descended the stairs, having changed and showered (he noted he only heard the shower turn on and off once), Dean excused himself to bathe as well, after Wyn told him where the towels and extra toiletries were.

The welcome sensation of hot water raining against his shoulders was a relief. Significantly better water pressure than in the townhouse apartment they were currently calling home. He allowed himself the brief respite, letting his mind wander. Though he had managed to keep it together fairly well in front of the two, his mind hadn’t settled from the startling revelation of the night before. He didn’t know how was even going to begin explaining this to Dad. Knowing John Winchester tended to react poorly when it came to danger to his family. Something deeper in Dean, like a pit in his stomach, he knew, just knew, that this was bigger than just some monster wreaking havoc. This was evil, and it wanted something...

Once he had towel dried his hair, and he heard the calm voices from downstairs he retrieved his phone from the bathroom counter. He pressed the call button after selecting the number from recently dialed. Unsurprisingly, his dad didn’t answer. Then the voicemail tone beeped.

“Dad. It’s Dean. Um…” he drew his hand down his face, “we’re all good here. Powers still out, all safe. But Uh, well… something happened last night. No biggie just a restless spirit, but it appeared in Wyn’s bedroom. So she kinda knows… everything. She and Sam talked and… as it turns out, there might be a connection between the thing that killed Mom, and Bronwyn’s mother. Not sure what it means, but I wanted to give you a heads up. Her Aunt is still in the dark. Wyn isn’t gonna say anything… just get back as soon as you can.” He flipped the phone shut, with a snick, ending the call. Then he let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding.

When Dean returned to the living room, hair still slightly damp, he saw the two young lovebirds sitting in front of the fireplace their omelettes next to them with playing cards in hand. Apparently, Sam was teaching Wyn the rules of Texas Hold ‘Em. Holding back the comment that Sam didn’t exactly have the best poker face, he quickly grabbed his own breakfast and joined them. Bronwyn was actually not terrible at poker, for a newbie anyway. She managed to win a decent number of hands, before Dean busted her out, followed shortly by Sam. Though, he had to commend her poker face, and her uncanny ability to tell when he was bluffing.

A knock at the door drew their attention. Wyn answered it, smiling upon seeing Corey Jefferson, and what Dean assumed was his daughter. Molly, if he remembered correctly. Mr. Jefferson asked if Sam and Wyn could watch her while he went to go check on the shop.

“I’ll come with,” Dean announced already lacing up his boots.

“Thanks, man. Alright Princess, you be a good girl. I’ll be home soon, and remember Mommy’s resting so don’t bother her okay?”

“I WANNA BUILD A SNOWMAN!” the volume of the tiny girl surprised Dean slightly, as was the energy she seemed to be buzzing with. But he shrugged it off with a chuckle, zipped up his jacket and followed his boss to the truck. Chains still on the tires, much to his relief. Before they’d even pulled away he saw Sam showing Molly how to build the strong base of the snowman. He couldn’t stop the warmth spreading through him at the sight, remembering he taught Sam the exact same technique. Granted he hadn’t learned it from their father. Of course not. John Winchester wasn’t a man that had time for things like playing in the snow with his kids.

The older mechanic let out a soft chuckle, “I’m afraid Molly’s gonna make Sam build a whole family of snow people!”

“Ah, Sam won’t mind. He learned from the best,” sticking his chest out proudly.

“So there is a little bit a of childhood there, huh Dean?”

“Yeah, I guess,” Dean’s green eyes scanned the main road ahead, freshly plowed, “My Uncle Bobby managed to squeeze some happy memories in there.” He suddenly remembered his 10th birthday. John had been off on a hunt, and once again hoisted Dean and Sam off at Bobby Singer’s home. Dean had tried to not let it show that he was disappointed his dad didn’t call to wish him a happy birthday. So the crotchy man had thrown a couple oversized coats on the boys, and took them out to play in the snow… he had even bought a pie knowing Dean’s preference. “You said Shawna’s resting? She not feelin so hot?”

“Ah, well, I guess I fill you in, Shawna’s pregnant!”

“No kiddin? Congrats man!”

“Thanks, brother. Bit of a surprise, we weren’t exactly trying, but,” he shrugged his shoulders not taking his hands off the wheel, “God has a funny way to springin things on ya when ya least expect em.”

Dean let out a short puff of cold air through his nose. Probably best he kept his opinions to himself. “Know if it’s a boy or girl yet?”

“Nah, dang kid had their legs crossed during the ultrasound. The tech couldn’t tell.”

The young man laughed, “Modesty’s a good trait, I hear.”

Before long they pulled up to the garage, parking the truck on the street where the snow wasn’t as plentiful. They took time examining the outside of the building, looking for damage for the storm or any signs of break-in. Then once inside, Mr. Jefferson grabbed two big snow shovels and huge bags of road salt, handing one of each of them to Dean.

“Let’s get workin’ Winchester. Wanna be able to open first thing day after tomorrow.”

“What if it snows more?”

“It’s not expected to anymore. Plus, with the salt that’ll prevent the driveway here from freezing over in the night.”

The work went quick enough with just the two of them working. A couple hours later they made their way back. Dean saw a few more people out and about, mostly folks with vehicles equipped properly for snow and ice, but occasionally they passed by someone stuck in the snow. They didn’t have to stop and help as all the ones they passed were already receiving aid from a neighbor. He really didn’t know how people handled this weather. He wasn’t exactly picky, he could handle cold, but this intense? Wasn’t his first choice by any means. Give him a hot sunny day to work during with the garage door open and he’s happy.

When they pulled into the cul-de-sac, they saw two pretty sturdy snowmen and what looked like a wonky…

“Is that a ballerina?” Dean quirked his head.

“I can’t believe they managed that!” Corey shook his head impressed. After stomping the snow and ice from their boots, Dean opened the door. He peeked in and saw Sam and Wyn sitting opposite end of the couch with Molly sprawled out over Sam’s lap asleep. A barely touched game board of chutes and ladders on the coffee table. The exhausted looking father did a silent fist pump at the sight of his child passed out from playing. “Yes, naptime for Daddy.” He quietly crept over maneuvering to pick up the little girl, with help from Sam so as not to jostle her awake. “Thanks guys!” He whispered, “I owe you big. Merry Christmas!”

“Merry Christmas!” They echoed quietly. Dean locked the door behind them. Once again the home was quiet. Wyn rose to her feet offering to make some stovetop hot chocolate for everyone, which of course Dean and Sam happily said yes! And for the rest of the day, Dean enjoyed the time with his brother and the newest addition to his family. Cause, honestly, if Wyn had found out all their dirty little secrets and hadn’t hightailed it on the next bus out of town… we’ll, she was family as far as he was concerned.

They all managed to agree upon self serve sandwiches for lunch and all cups ran over with hot chocolate or eggnog. Despite all their concerns, it was almost like a normal Christmas Eve. Dean couldn’t remember the last time he had seen Sam genuinely happy this time of year…

The rest of the evening was spent in content quiet. Almost as if they weren’t harboring some earth shattering secret. But they were, and if Dean could keep Wyn and Sam distracted enough to enjoy themselves, then all the better. Because at the end of the day, Family was everything. At least to. Winchester.

Christmas morning heralded them with the return of power. Lights flicked on in the living room, and a woosh sound signaled the central heating kicking on as well. Wyn was snuggled up soundly next to Sam. Both the brothers blinking awake slowly. Dean looked to the corner and admired the tree. First one they had that was more than a foot tall… and a real tree at that.

When Dean rose to his feet, stretching and rolling out the kinks, Wyn stirred.

“Mmm,” she rubbed her eyes, “Merry Christmas guys… the powers back on!”

“Yeah we noticed,” Dean said with a smirk. She gave him a look… Damn her bitch face could rival Sammy’s.

Sam laughed warmly. Then Wyn’s eyes got big. “We have to make gingerbread cookies!” She leapt to her feet, and beelined to the kitchen, “Aunt Stacy always makes them on Christmas morning. And we can’t open presents until the cider is ready! And then we need to--” her voice continued from the kitchen leaving Dean and Sam to exchanges confused, albeit amused, looks.

For someone who had such a horrible tragedy on Christmas, Wyn and her Aunt seemed to have a lot of traditions. Sam was already in the kitchen asking what ingredients they needed. Wyn started talking a mile a minute, gestured grandly, eyes sparkling brighter than the twinkling lights on the tree. While they were both distracted, Dean managed to sneak out some meagerly wrapped items and placed them conspicuously under the tree, before joining them in the kitchen.


After a thorough mess had been made, gingerbread men were baking in the oven and cider simmering on the stovetop. The blissful aroma filled the household. Wyn had turned on the TV and selected the channel with what she deemed the best Christmas movie marathon. Just when Dean was going to propose they open some presents, the sound of the front door being unlocked alerted them all. The door opened to reveal Stacy, holding a bag, “MERRY CHRISTMAS!”

“AUNT STACY!!” Wyn jumped and practically ran to the nurse, wrapping her arms around her tightly, “I can’t believe you made it home!”

“Well you can thank my Christmas Angel for that…”

Before any of them could ask, another figure stepped into entryway. John Winchester knocked the snow from his boots and grinned, “Heya boys!”

Dean couldn’t believe it. Dad was actually there -- on Christmas! There was a shuffle as the two took off their heavy coats and shoes covered in ice and snow. Then, once everyone was seated in the living room, Stacy explained, “The roads were starting to clear a bit, but my car wouldn’t have made it. Lucky for me, John here, called saying he had gotten back to town early this morning. So he picked me up from the hospital and now we get to have a big family Christmas!”

Warmth blossomed in Dean’s chest as the woman’s words. Family… The Nurse stood, asking his Dad what his poison was.

“Whiskey straight, would really hit the spot,” the Winchester patriarch grinned, dimples showing through the scruff on is face. Stacy nodded with a matching smile, and went to the bar table in the corner preparing the drink, while Wyn talked her ear off. About how they got through the storm, the day before building snowmen, that she learned to play poker and the news about their neighbors pregnancy. All mentions of ghosts, monsters, or childhood conspiracies carefully omitted.

Deans gaze met with his fathers, who signaled they needed to speak in private. He stood, heading for the entryway. Close enough to see the action in the living, but away from listening ears.

John crossed his arms, regarding his eldest with a serious look then asked him “Care to clarify your cryptic message?”

“It's complicated. But we should talk about here,” his eyes flickered to the corner where Stacy stood with her niece. “So Bronwyn knows, but not her Aunt.”


“Well, I gotta talk to her.”

“No -- Not yet, please…” he looked over to Wyn, who had returned to her spot next to Sam. They sat close to each other snuggled on the sofa. “Let ‘em just enjoy the day, huh?”

John nodded with a soft expression, “Alright, I hear ya. Later. After all, it’s Christmas!” He clapped Dean on the shoulder, “Let’s celebrate proper this year, huh?”

Dean breathed in relief, nodding his consent. They re-joined the group, as Stacy placed a plate of hot gingerbread cookies on the coffee table, then extended a glass filled halfway with amber liquid to her guest. John thanked her.

“Sooo presents?” Wyn asked practically bouncing with joy.

“Excellent idea Bronwyn,” John responded much to Sam and Dean’s surprise. Then their surprise grew, when John pulled out two envelopes and handed them to both of them. “Open ‘em.”

Sam exchanged an almost disbelieving look with Dean, who just shrugged, and opened the gift. “Sweet - Hockey tickets!”

“Yup,” John beamed proudly, “Taking you boys next month. Rink side, up real close and personal! And here, Wyn, I got something for you, too,” He passed the young girl a box wrapped nice enough that Dean could only assume a store clerk must have wrapped it. She pulled back the paper, and smiled brightly.

“Wow,” her fingers drifted down the leather bound book, “this is gorgeous!”

“Sam told me you’re a bit of a reader, but I figured everyone needs a place to keep important memories. I keep a journal myself. Saw that and thought of you.”

“Thank you!”

“Yeah, thanks Dad!” Sam rose to thank him properly, when John pulled him for a tight hug. Dean saw the surprise in his brothers face, then the happy resignation when he returned the embrace firmly. They weren’t exactly the hugging kind of family, so Sams surprise was well founded.

“Thank you, sir,” Dean’s voice was low. John pulled away from Sam, and placed his hand on Dean’s shoulder once more. He looked down at his son with pride and affection. What the hell happened on that hunt? He couldn’t stop the cynical thought, but immediately pushed it down.

“Also,” John turned to their kind host, “I wanna thank you for giving my boys a safe place to crash!”

“Of course! Our door is always open to the Winchester clan,” the Nurse smiled throwing a wink in Wyn’s direction.

“What can I give you to help cover the cost? I know that a teenage boy metabolism is hard to keep up with,” he spoke pulling his wallet from his back pocket.

“No. Don’t you dare,” The woman gave John a pointed look, “I don’t accept money for doing the right thing. If you try, we’re gonna have a problem.”

John’s face shifted to the ‘if you say so’ concession, his arms raised in surrender after placing his wallet back in its place.


The unassuming group continued to exchange gifts. Sam unwrapped his present from Dean, revealing a gorgeous money clip with his initials engraved. Dean was just a little bit pleased with himself at Wyn’s surprise when opening her gift from him. He knew the girl was obsessed with those books about magic and wizards and stuff. So, he managed to find two books that were supposedly connected to the story she loved. Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them and Quidditch Through the Ages .

Wyn explained giddily to everyone, that one of the books was purportedly a textbook at the magic school and the other was supposedly a book on a sport involving flying on broomsticks. Dean didn’t really follow the details, but he was glad to see the young girls joy.

Sam had gone the romantic route and gotten Wyn a leather corded necklace with a pearl in the middle, with a silver charm with an engraved symbol. Dean recognized it as a symbol for love and protection. Wyn gave Sam a rather nice watch, engraved on the back. The older brother didn’t ask what it said, but he assumed something mushy. The two lovers kissed, prompting Dean to make a gagging noise in mock disgust at the sappy situation. The two gave him unamused looks. Matching bitch faces , his mind supplied.

The last gift given was from Stacy to Wyn. Wyn started crying when she opened the small white box. “It belonged to her mother,” her aunt explained lifting a silver charm bracelet from the box and maneuvered the bar and loop latch around Wyn’s shaking wrist. It had only a few charms: a cross, a crescent moon, and a small crown. “After everything, I saved that. Most stuff went to goodwill, but that’s special. Your Mom wore it all the time.”

“Thank you,” Wyn said tearily, and threw her arms around the woman. Dean kept silent, but exchanged a knowing glance with Sam. The painful memory of her mother was probably raw at the moment. Much to Dean’s relief, the nurse rose to her feet and the moment passed.  

“Alright… music! We need music,” Stacy declared. Near the front wide window, was a side table holding a record player. To the left in a bookcase, was a collection of records that Dean had taken the liberty of skimming through their first night there. The first edition vinyls from some of the best bands in history. It was enough to make a man cry. John objected to her first selection, but they settled something they could both agree on.

Stacy pulled the record from the sleeve, and placed the needle carefully starting The Beatles’ White Album. Soothed by the music, the day was about as perfect as possible. The adults continued to partake in bottles of Christmas cheer. After a while John flipped the record to side two, as Stacy shared stories from the chaos at the hospital over the past couple days. Then, a certain song started making Wyn and Stacy to exclaim in unison, “OUR SONG!”

The older woman sang along, “ Blackbird singin’ in the dead of night ,” she spun Wyn around, “ Take these broken wings and learn to fly,” the two continued singing in unison.

Dean observed the rare sight before him. The fireplace going strong, while lights twinkled on the tree. Sam and their Dad laughing, Wyn dancing with her aunt and singing along to their song. A perfect image he was afraid might shatter if he looked too closely. Thinking back, this was the first truly happy Christmas, the first he could remember feeling so surrounded by family. It was… Home.

Hmm, Dean thought with a bittersweet smile, there’s a first time for everything...

Chapter Text

The day after Christmas, John managed to get Sam and Wyn alone long enough for them to explain the past few days in great detail. While she had been extremely anxious to share everything with John, Sam and Dean insisted that he would know what to do. While she went on about her family’s tragedy, the hunter kept a stoic expression. Listening intently, committing every piece of information to memory. After unloading everything, Wyn had to admit she did feel a little better.

Finally, after a long line of questions filling in the blanks, John asked. “Your father. His name is Thomas Evans?” She nodded in confirmation. “Huh… I’m just realizin’ something. What was your Mom’s maiden name?” John asked.

“Walsh. Liddy Walsh.”

“Of course.” John shook his head, “Since you two met, I’ve been scratchin’ my head trying to remember why your name sounded familiar. Liddy and Mary were friends back in the day.”

“What?!” Sam and Wyn blurted out.

“Yeah,” John nodded sadly, “But they fell out of touch just after Mary’s parents passed. We stayed in Lawrence, you’re parents left Haleyville and moved to that farm outside Topeka. Didn’t hear from ‘em after that. It’s been such a long time, and I honestly hadn’t thought about them in years.”

The pair blinked. Then looked at each other, unsure how to react to the news. It seemed their history was significantly more intertwined than they thought.

“Hey. I don’t want you two worryin over this, alright? I’ve been hunting this thing for years. Got some contacts I can reach out to… this is all just pieces of the puzzle. The more we know about what happened back then the closer we got to ganking the damn thing.”

“Do you have any idea what it was?” Wyn asked hopefully. It didn’t matter really, she knew that. But for so long, she had thought her father lost his mind, just because of grief. She wondered though… what would things have been like if Dad hadn’t talked to the wrong people, if she hadn’t been taken away. What if he had become a hunter like John?

“Coupla theories.”

“What theories?” Sam practically demanded.

“I’m gettin there. When I know something, you’ll know,” John gave them a soft reassuring smile. “Just keep your head low, focus on school, and Sam here,” he nodded proudly at Sam, “he’ll watch out for ya.”

Wyn looked into the eyes of the young man she had grown to depend on. His eyes soft, searching for any sign of fear or doubt in her eyes.

“I know he will.”

For now, they would have to wait. Sam told her he was going to keep her safe. And she was gonna fight to keep him safe, too. Whether it meant getting him out of the life of hunting, or jumping into the deep end with him. She would follow him to the ends of the Earth. It was almost as if she and Sam were meant for each other… and, boy, did that scare her.




Sam tilted his head curiously. “Is everything alright?”

Wyn’s head turned startled to him, “Huh? Yeah, why?” He peered oddly at her from across the table they had claimed in the library.

Starting with their new semester, they managed to get their free period at the same time. Along with AP Latin and Honors Anatomy & Physiology. The free period was at the end of the day. Most students with that final free period would just call it an early day and go home. Sam and Wyn however enjoyed the quiet of the library. It was a time for them to work on their current assignments, or just pleasure read while enjoying each other’s company. Weeks into the new year, they managed to spend a great deal of time around one another. Despite her fear of her own emotions, she felt pulled to Sam like gravity.

The result of spending all their time together, Wyn thought about little else besides her tall, hazel-eyed lover. His eyes. His lips. The way she felt when he ran his hands all over her body. And oh good Lord , the dreams … they were growing more and more intense. Every morning that week alone, she had woken with fresh arousal dampening her panties. That very morning, her hand was shoved down them, in between the folds and legs clenched tightly. Each time, Sam’s name lingered on her lips.

“You just seem distracted,” Sam spoke concernedly, then chuckled, “You haven’t turned a page for, like, 15 minutes.”

That’s because she was distracted. An inner battle going on between her head and her heart. She looked down, and blinking slowly at the page of her Anatomy textbook. “Right. Sorry, just… thinking about after school. Got some errands I need to take care of.” Wyn flipped the book closed, conceding she wasn’t going to retain any of the information anyway.

“But we’re still on for tonight right?” His grin wide and beaming.

Our 3 month anniversary. It was the Friday after Valentine’s Day. And it had been three months since their first date. The day before, Sam had surprised her with a small bouquet of daisy’s. And told her to make sure she was free Friday evening for a nice dinner. He was taking her to the nicer Italian restaurant in town, Vitello’s . Well, technically, she would be picking him up. They had worked out that she would use the car, he would pay for dinner, and she would pick up a movie rental to watch back at his place.

“Yeah,” she returned his smile, “we’re definitely still on. I just need to go pick up the car from the hospital, get some things from the store, then I’ll head home and get ready.”

“Good,” Sam said with mirth in his eyes, “prepare to be romanced.”




Wyn stood in the aisle of the drugstore that always made her nervous. She stared at the boxes with various labels. Ultra Thin, Ribbed, Lubricated, Magnum… fidgeting, her eyes scanned down the aisle making sure no one she recognized could see her. She had, honestly, thought about grabbing free ones from the hospital, but there was too much of a chance someone would pass that information on to Aunt Stacy… Even though she had told Wyn, she could talk to her about anything, including this, it just wasn’t a conversation she was ready to have.

Compelling herself to move, she snatched the box she eventually deemed best off the shelf, and held it close to her left side. She turned her head to look back at the end of the aisle as she scurried away, only to run into someone.

“I’m sorry I--” her eyes grew wide, “Principal Snyder!” Subtly, she tried to move her left hand more behind her, out of view.

“Miss Evans,” his eyes scanned her up and down, darting to her left hand. “How are you doing? Not feeling ill I hope?”

“Me? No. No, no not all I, um… just needed to pick up some,” she reached out blindly with her right and grabbed a box of, “laxatives…” she read the label her face burned hot with embarrassment, “Heh… ya know. Digestion troubles, ha-ha, well I uh, should get going,” she managed to squeeze past the school principal, and walked quickly to check out. Leaving the laxatives on the side of check-out when no one was looking.

The nervous teen paid for her supplies then rushed outside, feeling like she was being watched. Once she buckled her seat belt, and the box of condoms was safely in her purse, she breathed in relief. Her head lolled back against the headrest, and gripped the steering wheel trying to calm herself. Now she just needed to stop by the movie rental store, then get home get dressed. “I can do this.”




Wyn knocked at the door of the Winchester abode. Winter snow was melting, and only lingered mostly in the shadiest spots. She pulled her overcoat tighter, and adjusted her purse, patting it lightly.

“Sam?” She called out, only to see the door open, to reveal a very dashing looking Sam. She saw under his coat he wore a tie and black button down shirt, with dark jeans.  “Wow, check you out!”

“You look amazing,” he smiled, pulling her in for a kiss. Then he shut the door behind them. Sam was going all out. She giggled when he bowed deeply, and holding out his hand for her to take. “Shall we?” he held out his arm for her to take.

“My, my, such a gentleman!”

“I told you. You are going to romance tonight. Dinner by candlelight, dancing, music. Only the best for my girl.”

Wyn’s heart skipped and cheeks warmed at the affectionate term. Sam then insisted on driving, since he wanted everything to be officially date night. From there, it was only about 10 minutes away. The ride there, their hands clasped whenever Sam could get away with only one hand on the wheel. Eventually, they pulled into the parking lot and saw it was quite full. It being a Friday night, it was no surprise.

Thankfully, it didn’t take long to find an empty space. Once they were parked, Wyn moved to get out.

“Wait! Stay put for a sec…” Sam quickly got out and hurried around to the opposite side of the car, opened the door, and held out his hand, “Milady.”

“Oh thank you kind sir!” Smiling, she took his hand and got out of the passenger's seat. He was certainly going all out. Sam shut the door behind her, and locked the car. The restaurant’s outside featured a tuscan villa inspired design. Upon entering the restaurant, they saw a collection of vintage wines behind the host stand, a man wearing a nice suit waiting to greet them.

“Good evening,” the man standing behind the pedestal. “Do you have a reservation?”

“Yes,” Sam straightened his coat in an official manner, “reservation for two under the name Winchester, my fine fellow.” He winked sideways at Wyn, she had to suppress her laughter. The host rolled his eyes slightly, but didn’t seemed too annoyed, “This way please, I’ll show you to your table.”

The lighting was soft and subtle. The room was wide and open. Round tables scattered around with booths lining the walls and corners of the space. By the front, there was a small group of stringed instruments with a few couples slow dancing in a space next to them. Normally, musicians weren’t a staple at Vitello’s , but they had been hired on for Valentine’s weekend. In all honesty, Wyn was relieved he had chosen this restaurant. It was a nice place, without being insanely expensive. The last thing she wanted Sam to do was spend money he didn’t really have to spend.  

When the host, led them to their table, they both removed their coats, and draped them on the back of the chair. Wyn turned to see Sam staring at her. His eyes slowly looked her form up and down, “Wow.” She grinned proudly, smoothing the wrinkles from sitting in the car. She wore a long sleeve black dress down to her knees, paired with dark brown leather boots. After taking as much time as she did getting ready, she had to admit the look on his face was worth it.

Sam pulled out Wyn’s chair acting the gentlemanly role, and helped her scoot in. Very awkwardly though. To the point the two were laughing by the time he sat, and they had been left alone with their menus. Candles decorated each table. Looking around Wyn could see other couples surrounding them. Soft smiles, gentle touches, loving gazes on each faces. She peered across the warm dimly lit table at her closest friend. There wasn’t any place she’d rather be.

Their waitress was a lovely middle aged woman, who took their orders, after filling their glasses with water. Sam ordered the ‘grilled shrimp with angel hair pasta, in a garlic and white wine reduction’, whereas Wyn ordered the ‘tuscan tomato bread soup with steamed mussels’. Waiting for their food, they enjoyed each other’s company, and easy conversation between them.

The evening was perfect. Their dinner arrived in record time, and they both admitted it was delicious. Jovially they savoured their food, offering each other bites. Followed by light debate about whose was better. At the end there wasn’t a scrap left on either plate. When their waitress returned inquiring if they were interested in dessert, Wyn almost said no, not wanting to add onto their bill. But Sam requested a slice of Tiramisu. The waitress nodded, clearing their plates and returned to the kitchen.

Sam stood, suddenly, and held out his hand once more, “Might I have this dance?” His dimples popping madly.


He nodded. Man, Sam wasn’t kidding when he told her she was going to be romanced. Wyn breathed out shaking her head lightly at his antics, but took his hand all the same. Slowly, he led her to the spot by the musicians where others were dancing with their partners. He turned their bodies to face each other, took her right hand in his left, and wrapped right arm around her waist. Their bodies pressed lightly together, she was able to comfortably reach up and hook her hand on his shoulder, despite the significant height difference.

The music was soft and gentle, and they began swaying side to side. Wyn gazed longingly into those hazel eyes she had loved from the beginning. He was regarding her with a look that was hard to interpret, but it was filled with care and adoration. For a couple minutes, they were content simply to hold each other close, eyes locked gazing into the soul.  

“Tonight has been amazing, Sam. Really, just perfect,” she uttered for only him to hear as they continued to slow dance.

His lips turned up coyly, “It’s not over yet.” Then he leaned down brought their lips together, kissing her passionately. She moved her lips in tandem with his, her heart pounded rapidly. When they parted, the kiss left them both breathless.

“You are a rare breed Sam Winchester.”

Sam released short puff of air on a laugh, “Come on. I think our dessert is ready.”

The two returned to their table, and shared the slice of moist coffee flavored cake. They let out twin moans as the spectacular flavor melted in their mouths. Within minutes, the cake was gone, Sam paid their bill, and they put their coats back on to leave.

Sam pulled her close once more, and pecked her lips, “Are you ready to head back to my place?” Nodding wordlessly, she followed him out. Now came the part she had been preparing for. The moment that all the build up and anxiety was leading to. But she wanted it more than anything…


“So… how long do we have the place to ourselves?” Wyn stood in the living room of Sam and Dean’s apartment, as Sam locked the door.

Sam gave a crooked grin and blushed, “Uh, Dean is actually with Dad on a hunt. Some poltergeist thing in Montana. They won’t be back till Monday.”

“Oh, okay. Good.” They exchanged bashful, but knowing looks. Sam went to lay their coats over the chair by the window, and grabbed a blanket he had pulled out just for the occasion. While she excused herself briefly for the restroom, then returned shortly. Earlier that day, when Wyn stopped at the movie rental place, she initially just picked one. But then realized she should probably consider ‘boy’ movie interests. Even though watching a romantic movie on their anniversary made a lot more sense. But in any case, she chose two movies. First, she held up the one she was really excited about, Moulin Rouge.

“Does it have singing?” Sam asked, scanning the brightly colored cover, looking none too pleased at the prospect..

“Yes… But it’s kinda like a jukebox musical.”

“Jukebox musical?”

“Yeah,” she explained, “They use mostly popular music, and tie it into the plot… I heard it’s good…” Sam looked at the cover skeptically again. Wyn conceded, “If you really don’t want to watch it I got another movie. Something about potheads losing their car.”

Sam let out a laugh, and looked at her fondly. “Tonight, is about romance. Yes, we can watch the chick flick.”

“Yay!” She clapped her hands with joy, and popped open the DVD player. Before joining Sam on the couch, she removed her knee high socks stuffing them into her boots by the door. Then made herself comfortable in his arms, and pulled a blanket over them as the movie started.


“Wow… that’s a super depressing ending.” Sam commented. “But I liked it more than I thought I would.” Wyn, her head resting on his chest, sniffled. “Wyn are you crying?”

“They were finally together!!!” The young girl sat up wiping her eyes and choking on a half sob. “They were so in love, and they were so close. They were gonna be together forever! Now he’s all alone...”

“Aww, baby,” Sam held her close, loving how adorable she was reacting over the sad ending. She had cried at sad movies before, but this seemed different. “It’s okay. It’s just a movie…”

“I know. It’s just… I don’t know. Makes me think about—” she stopped.

“Think about what?” Sam straightened with sudden concern.

Wyn took a shaky breath, “The future. About after we graduate,” she lifted her gaze, “I’ll be in Washington and you’ll be who knows where… and I’ve never had something like this before. I’m not ready for this to end.”

Sam didn’t say anything at first. It was something that had come up a lot lately. They still had a few months, but their future was looming. And Sam knew deep down, at some point he would have to make a decision. Stanford had extended the acceptance deadline for him. When he talked to the admissions worker, they said he had until beginning of May to confirm, otherwise they would offer his scholarship to another student.

“I know…” his voice soft, “I still have a lot to figure out. Talking to my Dad being the toughest. But you should know,” he beheld her with a sincere look, “Whenever I think about my future? You’re always in it.”

Wyn’s heart swelled. “Me too.” Her fingers fiddled with the fabric of his shirt, mulling, trying to choose the right words. “I just… it seems like you’ve let your Dad control every aspect of your life. No one else can tell you what to do with your future but you. What do you want? Sam, you deserve happiness.”

“You make me happy,” Sam cupped the side of her face and stared lonely into her eyes. Pouring every ounce of sincerity he had in him, “Wyn,” he swallowed and licked his lips nervously, “I love you.”

Everything in the air changed. Suddenly, Wyns vision tunneled, anchored in the bright hazel sanctuary of Sam’s eyes. The North Star in a sea of fear and uncertainty. She realized in the back of her mind she wasn’t breathing, and the sound of blood pumping and rushing in her ears drowned out the music still playing from the tv.

The implications of those three sweet, beautiful, perfect, exquisite words were overwhelming. Their future was so uncertain. Neither of them knew what to expect beyond the next few months. She was terrified of the day that they might be forced to choose between one's happiness for the other. To allow such a vulnerability, to open ones heart to pain… But a voice in her subconscious whispered, you don’t really care if you get hurt, do you? All that matters… is Sam.

When her eyes began to water after the long silence, Sam’s brow creased in concern and fear, “Wyn, please… say something?” He looked as if his heart might shatter at any moment.

“You love me?” A single tear fell from the brim of her eyes, the rest of her vision blurring.

Sam nodded meekly, “Can you... I don’t know say something else? I’m starting to get really nervous here.”

Wyn jumped to her feet heart racing. Her mind raced and it was taking all her focus to regroup herself in the moment. She was still reeling from the emotional impact of their conversation.

“You don’t feel the same way...” Sam looked down sadly.

“This is absolutely crazy.” Wyn, in her own little world of freak out, was having trouble articulating what she was feeling. Obviously, it wasn’t helping calm Sam down either. The two began talking over each other.

“I knew it was stupid--” Sam muttered.

“There’s so much that we can’t plan for--”

“-- With all that’s happened to us lately--”

“Even if you get out of hunting there’s no guarantee we’ll be together--”

“--- You knowing about hunting was one thing, but with all this conspiracy with our families—”

“I mean I’ve looked into transferring, it wouldn’t be that hard…”

“It’s no wonder you’re scared of me.”

“I'm just scared,” she stopped pacing, “because, of course I love you!”

Sam's head shot up staring at her, his now watery eyes hopeful again. “What?”

“I love you. I do.” They stares at one another, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” Sam said concern alleviated. His gaze filled with slight amusement at her near hysterics, now that his initial pain of rejection was passed...

“Isn’t that crazy?” Wyn started pacing back and forth again. “I mean, we’ve only been together for three months, and we just met a month before that! Then there’s the thing with our Mom’s which is still freaking me the fuck out. Plus, we got physical real fast, and I had never even kissed a boy before you. I haven’t regretted anything we’ve done, obviously, that’s been amazing. But how? How is that we already love each other? We’re only 18, I mean, how can we possibly know this is the real thing?”

“Because I know you, Wyn. I know you inside and out. And you know me.”

“...We don’t know everything about each other.” She wasn’t even convinced with her own argument.

“I know you only eat chopped salads, cause you hate seeing the individual vegetables. Same with salsa, smooth not chunky. I know that, even though you’re obsessed with Harry Potter , The Hobbit is your favorite book. Because your Aunt told you your Dad read it to you when your Mom was pregnant, and after you were born, even though you would never remember it. I know that you love the sound of a violin, even though you’ve never played. I know that you are an amazing person,” he took her hand, and cupped the back of her head gently, “You are generous and kind. You always want to help other people before yourself. And I know that, even when you’re terrified, you’d stand up to defend someone even if you would never defend yourself.”

“Sam…” Words failed her.

“Don’t be scared. Whatever we have to do, I’m going to fight to be with you no matter what. Don’t be afraid of us.”

“I’m not afraid of us. Never. I… when I’m with you I feel like I could take on the whole world.”

“I know what you mean. I can’t explain it. It’s like… do you believe in fate?”

“...Yes.” Unequivocally, she knew. Fate brought her Sam.

“You and I? I feel it Wyn. This is real. This,” he moved her hand to his chest, “is the way it’s supposed to be.”

Wyn raised herself up on her tiptoes, and pulled him down for a deep kiss. Their mouths moved in desperate fervor. Tongues pushed their way into each other’s mouths, teeth biting just a little harder than normal. Fluttering and heat filled her core. She knew it was destiny. She felt it.

“Sam, I—“ her own moan cut off as Sam held her body flush against his own, licking  and teeth scraping lightly on her milky neck. “I want you. I want you to… make love to me.”

His movements stilled, with the exception of his heaving chest. Sam raised his head from the crook of her neck. “Are you sure?” Eyes searching, his resolve close to crumbling. Behind it, she could feel the animalistic desire.

“Please, Sam.”

Wyn brought their lips together once more with uninhibited assurance. Giving every last iota of ‘yes, yes, yes’ she had, pouring into their kiss, knowing it couldn’t possibly be enough. She could already feel Sam hardening. The knowledge that she was the reason, the one who made Sam vulnerable and wanting, made her giddily drunk. A short squeak sounded from her lips when she felt Sam lift her into the air. Instinctively, she locked her legs around his waist, desperately grinding against him. Sam started blindly down the hallway, carrying her, refusing to separate from her until absolutely necessary. He paused only briefly pressing her back against his bedroom door. Thrusting his narrow hips up, pressing their groins, a fire building rapidly in her lower belly.

He managed to open the door and lock it behind them, before heading straight for his bed, kneeled and laid her down a bit hastily. She laughed, feeling beyond euphoric. Sam grinned, “Sorry,” he managed to say as he positioned himself above her, kissing her more gently.

The young girls breath was coming in short breaths. Eager with anticipation. Her skin felt electric at the feeling of his hands roaming her body. Heart pounded against her ribcage. Then, she felt long fingers move under the hem of her dress, and lifted her arms and upper body instinctively. Sam lifted the garment over her head and dropped it to the floor.

Wyn, nerves flying out the window, followed suit doing the same to him and pulled of his collared shirt and undershirt. Like every time before, she released a small sound of appreciation at his form. Lean muscle, fine lines defining his stomach and traced each one delicately with her fingers. She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth and gazed up into Sam hazel eyes. The sight of lust and dark wide blown pupils drove her further, she parted her legs and felt his hips settle between them.

Sam rolled his hips, the friction from the fabric releasing a groan from them both. Base, raw desire took over, as he dove back to resume his early actions, sucking a deep mark of possession just above her collar bone. Her arms wrapped up and around digging into the sinew muscle, rubbing with earnest. She brought one hand to tangle in his hair, lightly scratching the scalp and locked her lips on his ear. Rolling the earlobe between her teeth, tongue teasing and lips sucking.

“Oh, God!” Sam cried, and Wyn grinned. She had figured out it was one of his sensitive spots. Their groins continued to grind and drive, wanting, needing more.

Reaching between them, she worked at undoing his belt frantically, “Off!” She pulled the belt from the loops and undid the button and zipper on his pants. He aided her, removing his pants with swift movements, then with great care peppered soft kisses from her neck, down to the pearl and protection charm on her necklace resting in the small divot at the base of her neck. Then, trailed down her middle. She lifted her back again, and he slipped his hands beneath her. Eagerly, he unclasped her bra from its place and discarded it, a lusty look painted his features. He resumed his kisses, taking time to worship each breast with equal adoration. Then lingered on her stomach, until she calmed her motions, and peered up at her wordlessly checking in. Finally, Sam removed her panties.

She nearly became antsy once more, feeling the heat of his palms against the skin of her thighs. But the look in his eyes brought her confidence to the surface. Taking his sweet time, he explored. Lips dancing over the surface of her milky legs, gradually making his way towards her entrance. The young girl twitched, eager for what was coming. Sam nipped gently at her thigh, and grinned mischievously when she let out a little yelp.

“Tease,” She grinned at him. Then, Wyn felt his long fingers drag softly over her outer lips, causing her to arch her back. She gasped, and pressed her hips lower, letting him know how ready she was. He halted momentarily to admire the vision before him.

“So beautiful…”

Her cheeks flushed further at the compliment. Her arms place out, bent at the elbow, she reveled in the exposure. Never could she remember ever having felt so desirable, so bewitching, so… erotic .

“Please, Sam, I want— touch me!” There she lay, unclothed and vulnerable. She followed his eyes soaking every curve, taking in the full picture of her naked form.

“So fucking beautiful…” Sam leaned over to kiss just above her pubic bone, then at long last he began pleasuring her. His fingers rubbing her most sensitive spot, starting off soft and slow. Her fire building up inside. Once he could feel her readiness, he lowered his head between her legs. When she felt his tongue brush against her entrance for the first time, she cried out, “Fuck!”

Sam paused, “You good?”

“Do that again!” Her command drummed up the baser side of Sam Winchester. He saw her and wanted nothing more than to make her scream in pleasure. Resuming his motions with vigor, he ran his tongue around her clit, his fingers pumping in and out.

Wyn panting, reached her hand down, slotting Sams hair between her fingers. She clutched desperately without pulling too hard. God bless that long hair. His soft locks tickled the inside of her thigh, while Sam performed magic, making her experience new levels of ecstasy. When he added a third finger, she keened loudly.  

There were sounds in the air mixing with her moans of pleasure. Suddenly, she realized the sounds were coming from Sam, greedily licking and sucking her clit. Grunts and breathless sighs escaped his lips. He was getting off on eating her out. That astounding revelation, combined with the sudden stimulation on the spot inside her with curled fingers, released her orgasm like river bursting through a dam. Stars crackled in her vision. Her walls clenched tightly, pulsing around Sam’s long digits. It took massive restraint to prevent her thighs from squeezing too tightly, while Sam continued too languidly taste her juices. Meanwhile her toes curling into the sheets.

“SAM!” her heart pounded, every muscle in her body quivered in delight. Sam hadn’t let up, coaxing her through her climax. Wyns cries and moans of ecstasy were music to his ears. Eventually, he could sense when the overstimulation kicked in and pulled back.

The auburn haired teen peered at him, panting wantonly, “Come here…” Wyn managed to grab him at the shoulders and pulled him up to face her. His lips glistened with the evidence of her pleasure, and a fresh heady sense arousal overcame her as she kissed his lips fiercely. A groan rumbled in her chest at the taste of herself in his mouth. “You are so amazing!”

Sam grinned happily at the praise. Then, their eyes locked and the energy shifted. Wyn recovering from her own high, pressed Sam by his hips to lay on his back. “Your turn.”

It was Sam’s turn to quiver in desire. Wyn kissed along his clavicle and down the center of his chest, taking a moment to tease each nipple lightly with her tongue. By the time her lips had trailed to the hairline, Sam was shaking.

Wyn began by taking his length in her hand. Knowing what she needed to do. She moved her palm slowly up and down the shaft, squeezing ever so slightly. Her eyes peered up, and she saw his flushed cheeks and glazed eyes. Then, tentatively, licked the head of his cock. Sam hummed in appreciation, his breath coming in short puffs through his nostrils.

Feeling encouraged, her lips opened and she took the whole tip in her mouth. Her tongue traced the outside before teasing the slit. All the while her hand moved up and down the thick member. Suddenly, instinct took over. She took more of his length into her mouth and sucked greedily, bobbing her head up and down. Like he was nectar from above. She worked her hand even though her fingertips didn’t quite reach all the way around, while sucking as much of his length that she could take. Her mind jumped to later when he’d be inside her in another way, but refocused on the current task.

Sam moaned out, “Yes, baby just like that!” His chest heaved, while his hands held her cherry brown hair back gripping tight. Gradually, his hips began to raise slightly in time with her movements. She could feel it in the back of her throat and she instinctively relaxed her muscles and took him further down.

“Fuck, fuck — Wyn!”

With great enjoyment, she moved her tongue along the underside of his cocked, while he fucked her throat. Then she hummed, the vibrations stimulating his sensitive head.

“Woah, oh God, hold on…”

Her lips wetly popped off the head, and a feline grin painted her face. Her eyes watered from exertion, but she licked her lips happily.

“Up here,” He beckoned. Wyn maneuvered to his side, and snuggled against him, face tucked into his neck. Almost a little embarrassed at her performance. So slutty and desperate. “Jesus Christ,” he gasped, “that was amazing.” He praised her in awe.

“Yeah?” Her heart piqued, self consciousness eased. Honestly, she had listened to her own instincts and how Sam’s body reacted. Actually she’d been worried she had gone overboard.

“Seriously,” he place a hand beneath her chin, and raised her face to meet his gaze, “fucking phenomenal.” He kissed her with all the love he could muster, “I just didn’t wanna come so soon…” He grinned, “I nearly--” then his eyes grew wide. “Shit!”

“What?” her face shifted.

“I,” his shoulders fell in shame, “I don’t have anything. Any protection. I checked earlier and Dean ran out of condoms, and— not that I was expecting anything, I mean I’d hoped that—” Sam sighed disappointed, “I’m sorry.”

Wyn bit her lower lip blushing, and averted her eyes, “I, um, came prepared.” He titled his head, curiously, in pure Sam Winchester fashion. She nodded towards the bedside table. He furrowed his brow, questioning, but reached over to pull open the drawer. Clearly visible was a collection of condoms that she had stashed there earlier, during a detour from the bathroom.

“Wha-how did— did you buy a variety pack?”

“I wanted to be prepared,” she replied meekly.

He kissed her fiercely, immensely happy she had more forethought than him. Then Sam retrieved one condom from the drawer. He sat back on his heels and opened the foil wrapper carefully with his teeth, and held the latex in his hand. Checked to be sure it was in the right position, then rolled it down his length halting at the base.

Then he returned his attention to the positively gorgeous vision before him. He leaned forward between her legs, and pressed their chests together. With one hand he braced himself and the other he reach to intertwine his fingers with hers.

“Hey,” he whispered, “Are you okay?” He nuzzled his nose against hers. Blue-green eyes fluttered shut, as she shook slightly.

“Y-yeah, I want to, just a little nervous,” Wyn chuckled anxiously, “I mean, you’re definitely bigger than average, not too much, but you know what I mean. Just… sorry babbling. Just go slow okay?”

“I got you. Just talk to me. If you want to stop or if I’m hurting you, just say…”

She placed a hand to his cheek and raised her head and brought their lips together for a sweet kiss. “I trust you.”

“I love you, Wyn.”

“And I love you!”

Sam brushed the hair from her face, kissing her deeper. Then with their lips still pressed together, he moved and entered her slowly. The head of his cock barely penetrating. Her sharp inhale halted him.

“I love you so Goddamn much,” Sam spoke softly, and soothed her through her pain. His core shaking, he refrained from thrusting madly into her warm entrance. Her face contorted and she pressed her thighs against his sides.

“I’m so sorry, love, I’m sorry it hurts…”

“I’m — I’m good. Just stings a little. Keep going.” Thankfully she was still well lubricated from Sam’s earlier activities. Wyn groaned in discomfort again, and he stopped once more, allowing her to grow accustomed to his size. As hard as it was to restrain himself, he didn’t care how long it took. He wanted her to feel as much pleasure as possible. “Just keep your eyes on me okay?”

Their eyes locked, in an existential connection. Immeasurable. Spiritual. He took his time repeating his movements. Thrusting gently and only about halfway. After a few moments, Wyn began to feel her body begin to accept his huge size, and little sparks of pleasure began building within her core once again. All the while their lips hovered close brushing against each other, air passing through in gasps.

“Mnf,” She released softly as all she could feel now was the pleasure of Sam moving within her. Stretching her wide in blissful rapture, tears sprang to her eyes at the profound intimacy. Ready for more, her hips rolled to meet his gentle thrusts. Moving slightly quicker, signaling her encouragement.

“Ohh, you feel so good baby,” Sam's voice low, barely above a whisper. Breathy moans echoed each other. “You wanna try something?”

Wyn nodded, biting her lip. Sam pulled out, and maneuvered them onto their sides before he laid back. Then he guided her to straddle him. From where he was propped up against the pillows, looking up at her red flushed cheeks, kiss swollen lips, and cherry brown hair falling messy waves around her. She was intoxicating.

“This way you can control everything.”

She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth before setting herself to task. She propped herself up bracing her arms against his pectoral muscles, and lifted her hips up. Sam grabbed his length and guided it once again to her entrance. Feeling the tip slick up and down over her, she slid down enveloping him. A cry sounded from her throat. The new angle provided stimulation to the spot above inside her, and she couldn’t get enough. Eagerly, she began to rock her hips in the rhythm that made her heart race. From this position Sam could thrust his hips up into her without penetrating too deep, since she had control. His hands switching between caressing her soft breasts and holding on her beautifully curvy hips grinding her hips against his own.

Wyn lowered herself as much as she could, then leaned forward to rest her upper body against his chest, while supporting most of her weight with her arms pressing into the pillows. Then, as Sam continued to thrust his hips growing more frantic, she hooked her ankles over his shins, her own legs splayed out pressed into the mattress. From this position, she could feel him deeper than she had before, but also prevented him from thrusting his full length too hard. She wanted to feel him let go.

Louder she praised him, and begged for more. Sam all too happy to oblige moved his hands from her hips to wrap around her waist locking her in place. He tucked his head into her neck, and let go. Fucking madly into her.

Wyn screamed his name as his hips pistoned away, pleasuring her in a new mind altering level. Suddenly her walls clenched down tight, and she was slammed with the beginning waves of her second orgasm. Heat spreading to all her extremities. Tingling coiling deep inside her core. Then she tilted her hips down toward his, and ground her clit against the base of his cock. Her slick making the sounds of his thrusts all the more delicious.

That final motion cracked open the climax. Ecstasy pulsing through her violently. Her entire body shook. She clung to Sam for dear life, doing all she could to not fly off into space. “Sam, please, fuck-ohh, please,” not certain even what she was begging for. But Sam knew, bringing their lips together, for a kiss bone achingly deep. Not letting their lips part as she enjoyed the full extent of her orgasm.

Soon she was nothing more than a whimpering, rather pleased, mess, still holding tight onto her paramour. Sam, slowed then halted his movements, then held her close with his left arm, and rolled them over so she was on her right side. He on his left. Then he hooked his right arm under her left knee, spreading her hips wide and plunged once again inside her, resuming his powerful movements.

“So good, so good…” Wyn uttered her lips brushing against his lips. “You make me feel so good. Can’t get enough of you. The way you feel inside me.” That seemed to trigger a new wave of raw passion, as Sam snarled and pounded mercilessly into her tight wet pussy. “Yes, oh God, Yes please — come for me Sam! Please oooh God!” The sound slick skin slapping together, rang out.

Sams jaw tightened, muscles strained, and eyes shut. Wyn saw a line of sweat drip down his temple. She slotted her fingers into his hair, and brought their foreheads together. Feeling Sam chase his pleasure. Then his hips thrust sporadically, and he moaned out in pure unabashed pleasure. The feeling of climax after so much build up and holding back, hit him so hard when he opened his eyes to look at her, his vision blackened. Only feeling as he continued to ride his orgasm, shaking uncontrollably and he held her tight. Rope after rope of come filling the latex reservoir.

Hips stuttered after several moments, the peak of pleasure having passed. Carefully, Sam pulled out, both shuddered at the sudden loss. He then lowered her leg, then turned to remove and discard of the condom properly. After he retrieved a clean hand towel from the top of a stack of laundry, he gently wiped the juices of their coupling from between Wyn’s thighs. Relieved to see no blood after, he then used the other end to wiped himself off.

Impatiently, she reached up pulling Sam down to be with her. Both sported blissful smiles found only with those who have found their… love. Their true, soul-binding, for-all-eternity, love. Wyn felt overwhelmed and bit back happy tears.

“I love you, Sam Winchester.”

“I love you, Bronwyn Evans... with everything I am.” He replied.

All that was left in the wake of of their first time, lay the two young souls. Knowing, in a way no normal person can know for certain, that they belonged to each other. That something, whether is was God or fate, they didn’t know or care, made them for the other. They were oblivious, however to how this would mark the start of many trials they would be forced to endure.




Principal Snyder, or rather the thing wearing his meat suit, parked several blocks away from the local park. He wanted to remain inconspicuous, but he knew he needed to inform his master of what he had seen. The Winchester boy and Evans girl were moving much faster than expected… Azazel was not going to be happy.

There wasn’t much that angered his father more than someone messing up his carefully laid plans. Snyder walked casually through the night, melting snow crunching under his feet on the sidewalk. When the dim lights at the entrance of the park came into view, he grinned with malicious intent. Near the tree line he could see a vagrant seeking shelter from the wind, bundled against the harsh cold.

The demon sauntered over, after glancing around and saw there wasn’t another soul around. When he was within a stone's throw the homeless man peered up. Holding out a cup.

“Spare some change, mister? Wanna get a bowl a’ chili from Missy’s .”

He crouched and stared curiously at the filthy man, disgust rising within him. “You humans are so pathetic. It’s astounding really.”

The filthy creature stared confused as they all did, then his eyes bulged wide and clutched his throat. Desperate to stay alive. The demon filled the gauntlet letting the now limp corpse fall to the side, and tucked his bloody blade back into his jacket. He uttered the dark spell to summon his master.

“Sir, I think it maybe time to move up our timetable. Things are progressing quickly. Sam Winchester and Bronwyn Evans are… intensely enamoured with one another.”


“I can’t say for sure, but based on my observations I imagine it’s likely.”  


“Yes. Sir, I know just the demon. Driven, unwavering loyalty to our cause, penchant for malice.” The demon wearing Snyder smiled sickly. It was time to move forward with the next stage of their plans. After centuries of waiting, it would finally be a new age for demons. This world would be theirs.




“Do you need a ride?”

Stacy fastened her coat, as she left the nurses area. Melissa walking alongside her down the hall, keys in hand. “Nah, I’m alright Mel. The bus ride is only about 10 minutes or so.”

“Wyn have the car tonight?” her friend asked, tightening her own coat and pulled her hat down over her curly hair.

“Yeah,” Stacy smiled fondly, “Big date. It’s her and Sam’s 3 month anniversary!”

“Aww, that’s so sweet. I’m glad she found someone. Sweet, lovely girl like that, she deserves to be happy. Surprised she went this long without being in a relationship.”

Stacy beheld her fellow nurse with subtle admiration, “I could say the same thing about you.”

Melissa faltered, “Oh, ha, well… I don’t know about—“

“You’re off next Friday night, right?”

“Uh, Yeah!” the other woman blinked.

“We should grab a drink.” Stacy grinned. Her friend stood still, almost as if unsure she had heard correctly. “Just the two of us.” Her voiced lowered to her chest.

“Oh, okay, yeah. Yes, that sounds great!”

“It’s a date!” Stacy winked, and gave her a little wave. When she made it to the bus stop she turned, and saw Melissa get in her car and finally drove away. It had been a while since she dated, but with Mel’s adorable failed attempts at flirting, she figured it was time to jump back into the dating pool. 

Suddenly, she heard what sounded like a screaming freight train. Looking toward the direction of the sound she saw a thick black cloud of smoke barreling toward her from the horizon.

“What the—“

Before the beloved aunt could utter another word, the black smoke was upon her, forcing itself down her throat. She fought against the invasive attack, fought with everything she had trying to expel the dark entity, eyes shut tight. Then, when her eyes opened, they weren't the caramel brown that Bronwyn had grown up finding love and comfort in. They were black.

Chapter Text


“Did I hurt you?”

Sam had wrapped his arms around Wyn, after they stirred from their brief slumber. She shook her head in a light sleepy daze, “No. I mean a little bit at the beginning, but,” she smiled stroking his hair, “It was perfect. How we were, it felt amazing. Was it… for you? I mean I know we had to be careful, with those positions was it still good for you?”

“Amazing,” Sam kissed her quickly, “it was amazing. Really.” They snuggled together closer. “God,” he hugged her tight, “I can’t wait till we can wake up like this everyday...”

Her smile was soft, then she froze, “Wait… what time is it?”

“Ummm,” Sam reached over to his pants on the floor fishing his cell out of his pocket, “1:30.”

“CRAP! It’s past my curfew.” She leapt from the bed scrambling to pick up her undergarments. Sam immediately joined her and helped her gather her things as quickly as possible, while managing to throw on a pair of sweatpants. The panic rose quickly in her heart as she stumbled into the living room. While Wyn shimmied her boots on, Sam retrieved her bag.

“Let me go with you,” he pleaded holding the purse for her, “I’ll say the time just got away from us, that it was my fault.”

“No,” Wyn shook her head, and pulled her hair back into a messy bun, “stay here. Might make things worse if you’re there too. God, I hope Aunt Stacy isn’t too pissed.” She moved to leave.

“Wait a minute,” Sam pulled her in for a desperate final kiss, making it last as long as he could. “Text me when you’re home?”
“I will. I love you.”

“I love you,” He grinned at her. Saying it felt extremely good she had to agree.


The young lover made it back to her place in record time. She may or may not have taken a few stops signs as suggestions, instead of the law. The car pulled into the driveway, and she turned off the ignition, manually locking the doors. Carefully, the teen unlocked the front door, and closed it quietly behind her. When the lamp by the lounge chair in the living room clicked on and she saw the look on her Aunt’s face, Wyn realized she had really messed up.

Aunt Stacy stood from the chair and crossed her arms, “What time did I tell you to be home?” Her tone even and cold.

“I know, I’m so sorry. I --”

“What. Time. Did I tell you?”


“And what time is it now?”

“Almost 2… Aunt Stacy, I’m sorry.”

“I’m sure you are,” the angry sarcasm sounded foreign, “I trusted you to be responsible, and you pull something like this? What’s gotten into you?” Wyn couldn’t formulate a reply, tears welling in her eyes. Shame. Guilt . The nurse stepped closer, “You’re grounded for a month.”

“Wh- a month?!”

“Yes, young lady. A month. You may be 18, but you are my responsibility. It’s my job to keep you safe. And while you are under my roof, living off my hard work, you are going to obey my rules. You can’t be out all hours of the night, doing who knows what with that boy! Is that understood?”

“Look, I-I’m sorry, is everything okay?”


The words reverberated off the walls of the entryway. Wyn shook, an unfamiliar sense of fear of her trusted guardian building in her heart. “...Yes.”

“Good. You will wait at school everyday for me to pick you up. And on days I’m working late, you are to come straight to the hospital. Sam is not allowed to come over anymore when I am not here. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Go to bed. And make sure you cover that up before school on Monday,” she gestured the the blue mark on Wyn’s neck, “Don’t want everyone thinking you’re a slut.”

Wyn felt her gut sink. The harsh words painful to hear coming from the woman that raised her. She blinked, and tears finally fell from her eyes, “I’m sorry…” she forced out tightly, barely audible. Then went upstairs to her room, solemnly. The night had been so perfect. And now, all she could feel was guilt and shame that she had let Aunt Stacy down. When she entered her room, it felt surreal. As if everything in her small little world was forever altered.

Angry-sad-embarrassed tears continued to stream tracks down her cheeks, as she removed her clothes for the second time that night and prepared for bed. She caught her reflection in the mirror and saw black mascara running. Quickly, she grabbed a makeup removing wipe from the container she kept on her vanity and wiped her face.Then, exhausted and drained she collapsed on her bed. She heard her phone buzz and rumbled in her purse on the floor for her phone.

When she saw the screen, there was a text from Sam.


S: was she mad?

Wyn scoffed, full of hurt and shame.

W: putting it lightly. im grounded for a month

S: Yikes!

W: shes never grounded me before I feel so guilty

S: its my fault. shouldve set an alarm or somethin

W: not just urs, mine too

S: i can still come over tomorrow? Maybe smooth things over.

W: we should let the dust settle first. She was furious.

S: are u okay?

A soft smile returned at his concern.

W: ill be ok. call me tomorrow?

S: definitely. I love you.

The light began to return to her heart. After all, past few minutes aside, tonight really had been perfect. She breathed deep, feeling the swell of his love.

W: I love you, too xoxo goodnight




Time heals all wounds, but apparently, time couldn’t fix the broken trust that Wyn had with her Aunt. Even after a week, it was as if their entire relationship had changed. Stacy used to be the person she could turn to about anything. The nurse was always able to help her, guide her, and teach her. But now Wyn wasn’t sure where she stood. The thing that worried Wyn the most: Aunt Stacy had stopped going to church. She didn’t even insist on the daily prayer before leaving the house each morning… Wyn still prayed everyday.

Over the month that she was grounded things changed drastically in their household. Stacy had implemented a strict curfew policy. On the days that she wasn’t able to pick Wyn up from school or if the nurse was working the late night shift, Wyn was to complete a long list of chores as soon as her homework was finished. She and Sam still managed to find time together. When Stacy worked the graveyard shift, they revelled in every moment they had. Sam would text her to make sure the coast was clear, before sneaking into her room. They spent those sweet nights giving themselves to each other.


“Things still weird with your Aunt?” Sam laid back propped up by the pillows, his arm around Wyn. Her against his side, her head resting on his chest. Their naked forms pressed close together, recovering from their most recent coupling.

“Yeah. I just don’t know what I did wrong. At first, yeah, she was mad cause I broke curfew that night. I knew she’d been letting things slide more recently. I’ve never exactly been a problem kid. Worst thing I ever did was not clean my room. I guess, I should’ve figured at one point it would be too much.”

“That sucks,” Sam winced sympathetically, “but hey, it’s still Stacy. Try and talk to her. Maybe she’s got a lot on her plate, and she’s just stressed out.”

“Yeah, maybe,” Wyn tracing invisible lines on his chest, “she did say, they’ve been having this huge system change at the hospital, and it’s messed up a bunch of their files. Plus, I know she and Melissa went on a date a few weeks ago. Aunt Stacy didn’t talk about it, but based on what Mel said, it didn’t go very well.”

“That’s too bad.”

“And the way she talks to me…”

“What do you mean? How does she talk to you?” His tone now had the edge of protection. Wyn hadn’t shared with him the details, just that things weren’t really going well at home. Hesitantly, she peered up at him, and he trailed his fingers gently up and down her arm.

“Little comments about my appearance, what I’m wearing, not picking up enough slack around the house, even though she’s got me doing all the chores. I’m starting to feel like Cinderella. She never used to treat me like this, but lately she’s just so… mean.” Tears welled up in her eyes. Self-confidence was just becoming something she was familiar with. But the backhanded comments and the annoyed looks were unbearable. “She just makes me feel awful. All the time. Like I’m the worst thing in her life.”

“Wyn…” his tone full of sympathy. He sighed deeply, peering back at her conveying comfort, “It sounds like there is something going on with her. Maybe it’s just something she feels like she can’t talk about. Talk to her straight. Ask her what’s wrong.”

“Ah, but in the Evan’s house we’re fans of ignoring the problem till it goes away,” she responded softly. Wyn kissed his skin, “Thanks for listening to me complain.”

“Hey, you don’t need to thank me. I wanna help you in anyway I can,” he lifted her chin and brought their lips together sweetly. “I wanted to tell you something…”

Wyn’s brow furrowed full of curiosity, “What is it?”

“I, uh,” He stumbled nervously, “I called the admissions office at Stanford…” he licked his bottom lip, “I accepted. I’m going to Stanford in the fall!”

“OH my-- Sam that’s--that’s wonderful!” Wyn brought their lips together and kissed him proudly. And again and again. She kissed him repeatedly until Sam started to laugh. “How are you feeling? Are you happy?” She asked. After all that was the whole point.

Sam sighed out, “I’m scared to tell my Dad… to tell Dean, but - yeah, I’m deliriously happy.”

“I’m so proud of you!” And she was. Sam had made a choice, and it was for himself. She beamed at him, “I have news too… my admissions counselor at UW looked into it for me. And it looks like I could transfer all my credits to UC-Berkeley for the spring semester. It’s only about an hour and a half from Palo Alto, but it’s still better than four years in different states…”

“We could be together,” Sam completed her thought, his eyes lighting up in hopeful elation, “We can get a place together… if you’d want to.”

Wyn smiled, “Then you should know, I’m a horrible decorator.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

Sam took a moment to gaze at her with a look that Wyn couldn’t quite pin down. It was an intense look of prophetic awe. As if he could see their entire future before them. “I’ve thought about this a lot…” His voice little and reserved.

“Tell me...I transfer to Berkeley in the spring, we move in together, then what’s next?” She encouraged him propping her head up to rest on her hand, elbow rested on the pillow.

“Well, we’ll both finish school. With honors of course,” Sam tucked a loose wave behind her ear, “I’ll get into law school, you’ll get your masters or doctorate degree. Of course we’ll get married before grad school.”

“Hmm. Dr. Bronwyn Winchester,” she grinned so hard her face hurt.

“You’d take my name?” Sam asked almost surprised.

“It’s a good name. Plus I want our family to have the same last name. Then what?”

“Then you’ll become a world renowned Neurologist. I’ll be the head of the best firm in the country. We’ll have three kids, and—”

“Three?” She let out a bell like laugh.

“Yeah, three. A boy, then a girl, then another boy. And then… I dunno live happily ever after, apple pie, house, the whole shebang.”

“I like that future,” Wyn pressed her lips against his. High off the idealistic daydream they had just created.

“I should leave before too long,” he whispered, his lips brushing against hers as he spoke, his tone clear he wasn’t a fan of the idea. Not to mention the stiffening member she felt under the sheets.

Wyn whined, “I don’t want you to leave yet…” She hooked her leg over his waist, and shifted herself to lay on his chest fully. “Don’t go.”

“You think we’ve got time for round two?” His voice low and husky, his hands shifted to her hips.

Wyn rose up carefully, her eyes lidded and inviting. Sam was instantly sitting up holding her body close to his. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and seized his hair smashing their lips together.

Sam gasped when Wyn wrapped her hand around him, pumping a rhythm that was rapidly hardening his erection. Her smirk was practically wicked. More and more when she was with Sam the part of her that took what she wanted, the part of her that knew she had the power to make him weak with ecstasy, was growing stronger.

“I love making you feel good,” she uttered before conquering his lips again, her tongue kneading against his. He began to respond by moving his hips up and down in time with her movements, though limited in his range of motion. Taking further privilege, Wyn maneuvered her way off his lap, and drew her mouth down his front. Licking, biting, sucking. Leaving a trail of red marks on his skin. When her lips found their way to the patch of coarse hair at his base, she took him in her mouth and engulfed him.

Sam’s sounds echoed in her ears like divine music from Heaven itself. There was nothing quite like having him in her mouth. The taste, the feel, the absolute fulfillment. She sucked eagerly, moving her head up and down, while working the lower half with her hand. The lubricant of her saliva dripping down to ease the pumping of her small hand. Hungrily, she performed her task with no sign of weariness.

After a minute or an hour, neither could tell, Sam was growing desperate. Wyn would bring him to the edge of orgasm, then pull back massaging his balls, to stretch out his enjoyment for as long as she wanted.

“God, I could do this forever,” she said pulling her mouth off for a moment, then returning immediately, and moved her tongue along the underside of his manhood. She continued sucking and working her lips in a massage like fashion with complete dedication. As if she was drawing life from her penitent act of love.

“Don’t take too long,” he smirked. His cheeks ruddy and flushed, “I’ve got some other things planned for you.”

“Oh?” Her eyebrow quirked and pulled herself back up to look him in the eye. She positioned herself then began sliding her increasingly wet entrance along the soft velvet skin of his length. His cock dark red and tip leaking. “And what might that be?”

Sam's eyes rolled back and he groaned, “I wanna,” his hips thrust slightly, feeling the slick now covering the underside of his cock.

“What do you want Sam?” Wyn pressed down harder, then lifted up slightly and teased the head of his thickness with her bare opening. The danger sparking between them. “You can have anything.”

There was something unspoken deep in him. She could feel he was holding back. And she thought back, realizing their few times together were intimate, passionate, and loving… Maybe he wanted to try something different, but was afraid to say.

“I mean it Sam…” Wyn continued her ministrations. “I wanna be with you in whatever way you want. Soft and sweet, hard and rough,” she felt his cock twitch at the suggestion. Then like lightbulb going off, “Anything between us is good.” Sam’s breath was strained and quick, she felt he wanted to let go. Unleash his restraints, completely unabashedly.

“I… don’t… wanna hurt you.”

“You won’t my love,” she kissed him sweetly.

And then, “ Fuck me.”

The sound that came from Sam was one of a hungry animal finally given sustenance. In a blur of motion, Sam flipped Wyn onto her back using his body to hold her down on the bed. With fervor, he devoured her lips. Frantically, Sam reached over to where they left the box of condoms, and tore one off the strip. Then sat back on his heels carefully removed the condom from the wrapper, and slid it on.

“Do it, Sam -- please!” Wyn moaned out at the sudden sensation of Sam filling her deep and stretching. She wasn’t feeling tender from their previous copulation thankfully, but her nerve endings were still raw. Sam held himself over her, his hips thrusting into her with hard deliberate thrusts. The intense stimulation made her quiver. “Oh God!”

Sam suddenly stricken, “Are you okay?”

“Don’t stop!” Her hand reached to grab his ass to hold him flush against her, encouraging his intense pounding. Moans, and sharp cries of pleasure punched out of her as Sam, feeling confident, let himself go. After a few thrusts, he reached back to grab her ankles and lifted them up to rest on his shoulders before returning to his punishing pace.

The new position made Wyn bite her lip. Sam’s eyes locked with hers, and she could see his pupils so large only a small hazel rings surrounded the blackness. He leaned down against her legs, bending her in half. She was feeling him in a novel way. Intense, raw, enflamed. It was a supreme gift of vulnerability and trust she had given him. Letting him take whatever he wanted from her. While she wasn’t experiencing pain, she was subdued to the incredible sensation of coming apart at the seams, as Sam chased his peak. All the while sending her deeper into a frenzied pleasure, over and over.

Wyn’s fingers released their grip on his ass, and tried to pull Sam’s face to hers. She stretched her head forward to bring their lips into a biting desperate kiss. He pulled his hips back slightly to close the distance, delighting in her happy and sex delirious noises. Then, she had an idea. She pressed her hands against his chest lightly, to signal for him to move. Taking the space to sit up and turn over, she then propped herself up with her forearms resting against the mattress, her ass up and hips swaying enticingly.

Sam took a moment to pause. His hands gently caressed and stroked the soft orbs of her ass. He then took hold of his length, and teased her clit rubbing himself against the juices moistening her entrance.

“Fucking perfect,” Sam voice was wrecked. The grate and gravel made her body sing with desire. Then, he speared into her again and stilled himself deep inside her. Wyn cried out. From his position behind her, she could feel all of him. He pressed his hips behind her, and leaned over his chest leaning on her back. She turned her head to the right, panting wantonly.

“Sam,” she gasped out. He rested his chin over her shoulder and gripped her hair, and kissed her desperately.

“You feel so amazing,” he uttered barely above a whisper. Then began rolling his hips, grinding against her clit and g-spot simultaneously. She keened loud and high pitched, reveling in his attention. “That feel good baby?”

“So good,” she moaned, then Sam resumed his pace and focus, “Yes, yes yes yes,” the words flowing out of her in time with his thrusts. “So good. Fuck, yes. Yes, Aaah!”

Closer and closer her orgasm approached. She could feel the snap building in her core again. Her clit stimulated each time Sam slammed into her and she forced her hips back to meet each thrust. Unable to articulate any further, she clung tightly to the sheets, the side of her face and shoulders pressed into the bed. Wyn could only pant, moan, beg, plead, and then finally scream out. The peak of pleasure exploded shooting tendrils of sparks to her extremities. The pulsing of her vaginal walls hugging and milking Sams cock.

Sam continued to thrust frantically. Madly. Each movement keeping her orgasm rolling. Her body quivered at the torridity that just wouldn’t let up. “Wyn-- fuck, Ohh!” Sam grunted out, his skin now slick with the sweat of exertion. Then, his movements stuttered erratically. He pounded into her, feeling her climax still thrumming. Her slick smoothness divinely giving him all he wanted. All the muscles in his body tightened, his vision blacked, and finally the first wave of climax hit him. It hit him hard. His form shook almost flailing, one arm wrapped around her waist, the other holding him above her. He rested his forehead between her shoulder blades and completely lost control of his motions.

Wave after wave, came and kept coming. In the back of both their minds, as their orgasms continued assaulting their systems, they wondered if one could actually die from sex. At long last, Sam felt the last bit of his release empty into the condom, then pulled out and fell hard next to Wyn on the bed. The two panting, covered in sweat, lay recovering next to one another.

Satisfied and exhausted they smiled at one another. Then, slowly they kissed. Languid and blissful. “Holy… I can’t believe… every time it’s so--” Sam tiredly searched for the words.

“I know,” Wyn smiled, “I know what you mean. That was...” An astounded chuckle escaped her, “I didn’t think it could get any better, but you keep surprising me.”

Sam blushed, “I think it’s, because it’s you and me. I feel so amazing with you I can’t imagine anyone else having what we do.”

“And we have this to look forward to for the rest of our lives? I’ll take it,” Wyn grinned, and kissed him again. Once their heart rates returned to a semblance of normalcy, Sam sat up to remove the condom.

“I need a shower,” he said with a grimace. “Join me before I have to leave?”

“Try and stop me,” she teased, and stood up out of the bed. Then yelped when Sam gave her ass a smack, wiggling his eyebrows.




Days passed before Wyn finally mustered the courage to confront her Aunt about her odd behavior that past several weeks. She stood before Stacy sitting at the kitchen table reading the newspaper, not paying her any mind. It was a rare Saturday they were together. Her conversation with Sam still playing in her mind. The young girl steeled herself, and sat down at the table without looking at her Aunt.

“Aunt Stacy?” Her voice much meeker than she intended, “Can I… can I talk to you about something?”

The woman’s gaze lifted up. Her face shifted to parental concern that Wyn hadn't seen all that much over the past few weeks. “Of course sweetheart. What’s on your mind?”

“I’m—- I’m worried about you.”

“Worried about me?” Stacy reached over to place her hand gently on her niece’s arm, “Snickerdoodle, what for?”

Wyn swallowed. She had gone over the conversation in her mind a hundred times. Each word carefully calculated, “I’ve noticed you have been pretty withdrawn lately. It seems like things upset you more than they use to… you’ve stopped going to church, and everyone’s been asking about you. They’re worried, too. And it feels like you’ve been angry with me - a lot. I know I missed my curfew that night, and I understand that some sort of punishment was definitely warranted… but it’s been over a month and... it feels like I’m still being punished. You mentioned work has been extremely stressful, so I get that a lot of that weight falls on your shoulders. But is there something else going on? I’ve done some reading and I’m worried you might be depressed or something. Reverend Terry said he would love to get coffee with you and talk if that’s what you need.” Stacy sat calmly listening intently to what she said. “I love you. So much, but… you’re scaring me Aunt Stacy.”

Stacy smiled softly, as if the notion of the young girl showing concern was adorable, “I guess I’ve been a bit of a hard ass lately, huh?”

Wyn didn’t respond, she merely stared at the nurse, afraid to say anymore.

“I’m hard on you, because I believe you have a spectacular future ahead of you. You are going to be an amazing woman. Sam is a nice boy, but I don’t want you to throw away that future by making impulsive decisions so early in life. There’s still time for so many other things to happen.”

Wyn held back the strong reaction to her Aunt’s talk about Sam. “But you just seem so… unhappy. What’s going on?”

“You’re not wrong. I’ve been seeing things differently lately.” Stacy folded the paper, and reached for her hot mug of coffee, “Do you know what those people at that church see when they look at me?” Wyn didn’t respond. “A sinner. An unclean soul that they ‘love’ in spite of my imperfections . Because I can’t help who I have feelings for, who I choose to be with. Who I love…”

“Not everyone feels that way... You know that Reverend Terry’s progressive. Yeah, there’s probably plenty of people who are clinging onto old beliefs, but people can change,” Wyn tried. It was the very argument Stacy had been behind for years. That you couldn’t change minds from the outside. People only changed through experience and understanding.

“I refuse to be a part of a religious institution that dehumanizes those who are different. When they’re all just as broken and dark on the inside. It’s despicable, and I’ve decided to wash my hands of it.”

Wyn peered at her Aunt oddly. She could certainly understand where she was coming from. After all, society wouldn’t look down on her for her relationship with Sam. Aunt Stacy had been dealing with people harassing her over her bisexuality as long as Wyn could remember. She just always saw her Aunt as this strong woman that wasn’t fazed by anything. But everyone has their breaking point. “I’m sorry. I can’t imagine what it must feel like.”

Aunt Stacy let show a sad sort of smile, “Now as far as the rules around here… I’ve got a compromise.”




While the tone in the Evans house was somewhat lightened, things didn’t exactly go back to the way they used to be. Wyn doubted now that things would ever be the same. But with her household chore responsibility being lessened, and being allowed more unsupervised time after school made things a bit easier with Sam. They didn’t need to sneak around as much, which was a huge relief to them both.


One day at lunch, Steve Gillis, the class stoner plopped down at their table with a playful air about him, “What up my dudes?” Wyn gave him a surprised, but friendly grin.

“Hey Steve! How’s last semester of high school treating ya?”

“Not too bad, mon amie. Taking Art, Shakespeare Lit, and   Le Francais just for the hell of it. But I’m really diggin’ my philosophy course at the community college.”

“Huh,” Sam noted, “you do seem like the philosophical type.” Made sense seeing how he was blazed almost everyday.

“We’re all students of life man.”

Sam and Wyn exchanged amused looks. Steve then, peered around and leaned in all secretive, “Personal question, are you two crazy kids intending to go to Prom?”

They both let out nearly identical scoffs, then Sam replied, “Nah, not really our scene.”  

“Yeah,” Wyn added, “me, formalwear, and crowds are a recipe for disaster. Plus it’s way too expensive. We figured we would do something like chill at home, go the movies, bowling, something like that.”

The stoner boys eyes lit up mischievously, “I’m very happy to hear you say that,” he unzipped his bag and slid a white piece of paper to the center of the table.

“What the hell is ‘Morp’?” Sam asked laughing upon reading the large print at the top of the page.

“Morp my fine fellow, is the anti-prom!”

“Prom spelled backwards,” Wyn read the flyer for more details, “clever.”

“I’m throwing a hang out sesh at my place that night. For all the freaks and geeks like us that would rather be around people we actually like on prom night! Plus, like you said, lots of people can’t afford it.”

Wyns eyed widen excitedly. “That’s awesome Steve!”

“I know I am. So keep it on the DL. We don’t want Snyder busting up the party.”

“Who all have you asked so far?” She inquired.

“Drama Club, Mathletes, Debate Team to name a few. Oh plus, everyone in GSA.”

“GSA?” Sam queried.

“Gay-Straight Alliance. I got the idea to do this actually, cause the school told David Walker he couldn’t bring his boyfriend from Claremont High. Poor dude was heartbroken.”

“That sucks!” Sam blurted indignantly.

“Exactly!” Steve nodded, “So I say screw the establishment, fight the power, and party on! Oh, and no need to bring anything, I’ve got it covered.”

“Really? Cause that sounds like a ton of people. You sure we can’t help?” If the idea was to not go broke, she certainly didn’t want Steve to bear the brunt of the cost.

“No biggie,” he shrugged, like the notion of paying for food and alcohol for close to 100 seniors was nothing to him, “My parents' house has the space, and all refreshments will be easy to take care of. Oh, but if you're interested in swimming, I’ve got a pool and hot tub, so suit up.”

Suddenly Wyn, for the first time, was looking forward to a social event. Crowds made her nervous, but being surrounded by people who, like her, had been outcasts most of their time in school eased her worry. Although, she and Sam would have to play their cards right, if she was going to be let out of the house late. Maybe since she had already told Aunt Stacy she had no intention of going to prom, they’d have some wiggle room.

Steve stood to leave, and swung his backpack over one shoulder, “Oh, and Evans, thanks for your help in History. Your notes were great. I got a 97 on the final!” Then he walked away to another table of some other Eagle Point High rejects. Sam smiled, but when he saw Wyn pouting indignantly, his expression shifted to concern, “What wrong?”

“He got a 97 on the final!”

“Yeah, And?”

“I got a 94! And he used MY notes to study! How the heck does that happen?!”

Sam burst out laughing. Wyn couldn’t help but grin. After all, things didn’t seem so bad now. With any luck, it would stay that way.

Chapter Text

Think Positive . That’s the mantra Wyn repeated over and over in her mind. Absolute dread filled her at the simple thought of asking permission to go to the “Freaks and Geeks” Party. It had been weeks since Stacy last flipped out on her. So far they had continued the delicate truce between them. The teen just hoped it was enough to gain her aunt’s favor.

Upon entering the kitchen, she saw Stacy seated at her normal spot at the table with an array of bills in front of her. Not a good sign .

“Morning Aunt Stacy,” she opened one of the cupboards and pulled down her favorite coffee mug with ‘So many books, so little time’ painted on the side. Stacy replied absentmindedly searching through the pile of papers in search of a specific item. After filling her own cup of black coffee, she grabbed the pot along with her mug and went to the table.

“Need a fill up?”

“Yes, thank you,” Stacy held out her mug without looking up. Wyn smiled softly and filled the ceramic just below the edge with the black liquid. Then returned the pot to the burner.

“So I wanted to talk to you about something,” Wyn sat his hands wrapped around the mug in front of her.

“Oh yeah?” Stacy’s eyes still scanning the bills in front of her.

“As you know, Prom night is coming up--”

Her eyes shot up with a piercing stare, “You said you weren’t going.”

“I’m not! We-- Sam and I aren’t going to Prom,” she explained quickly, “A friend of ours is having people over that night. People who either can’t afford Prom or don’t wanna go. So I was thinking that we could--”


“... No? But… I don’t understand - why not?”

“Because I said so.”

Wyn blinked, mouth agape. It made no sense. What could she have possibly done to deserve this intense level of distrust? She felt the crushing weight of disappointment in her chest. Angry tears stung her eyes and she blinked them back. Absolutely, refusing to cry.

“I think you’re being unfair. I mean I graduate in just a few weeks. What? Do you plan on treating me like a child until I move out?”

“Only if you keep acting like one.”

“What does it take to make you happy?! I’ve done everything you’ve asked, and I’ve worked hard. I deserve to celebrate with my friends!”

“Since when do you have friends?”

Wyn tried to ignore the twist in her gut, but the pain was white hot. “Please, Aunt Stacy!” She begged.

“Absolutely not!”

The young girl clenched her jaw, filled with hurt and fury. Despite her will power, she raised her voice, and her frustration poured out, “Fine! In a few weeks I’m out of here. You won’t be able to control my life then. And maybe, just maybe, you can actually be my Aunt again instead of my prison guard!”

Wyn stormed out of the kitchen, up stairs and made a concerted effort to slam her bedroom door as hard as she could. Certainly out of character, but she was at the end of her rope.


At the kitchen table, the woman’s eyes flicked black and rose to her feet. Wyn hadn’t noticed the shopping bags from the local hardware store in the corner behind her aunt. Bags filled with rope, locks, and chains. “We’ll see about that little missy…”




Wyn waited a half hour after Stacy left for her late shift at the hospital, before throwing the covers off and jumped out of bed fully clothed. She and Sam had worked it all out. She would sneak out and meet up down the street, and he would drive them to Steve’s party. The Impala’s loan came with Dean’s standard threat of bodily harm should anything happen to his Baby.

She had prepared for the night with her bathing suit under her clothes, and change of underwear in her purse. After evaluating her appearance, she nodded with a satisfied smirk, and went to leave… only to discover her bedroom door locked.

“What the…” She tried the knob again. It was locked from the outside. Her heart rate increased. Never did she think it would come to her Aunt putting her on actual lock down. Fine, she thought angrily. She turned on her heel, and crossed to her window for Escape Plan B. Fingering the latch at the top to open, the window didn’t budge when she tried to lift it. Upon closer inspection she saw an external lock had been installed on the window as well.

“Unbelievable,” Wyn was exasperated. Thankfully, her phone vibrated from her pocket and she answered the call immediately seeing it was Sam.


“Hey. I’m around the corner in the Impala.”

“My Aunt locked me in!” she felt like sobbing.


“She puts locks outside my window and bedroom door! I can’t get out!!” Wyn ran her hand through her hair, anxiety keyed up intensely.

“Is she there?” His voice had a dangerous edge.

“No, she was on call. At the hospital now. She’s--”

“I’ll be right there!”


Wyn wasn’t left to wonder long, because she could hear the front door open just a minute later. Followed by the clicking and scratching noise of the lock pick working it’s way into her door lock. Then the knob turned, and Sam opened the door. Wyn couldn’t stop the image of a knight rescuing the damsel from her locked tower. Her mind, then, overwhelmed her with guilt. She hated feeling helpless.

“You alright?” Sam stepped closer looking at her with concern. It was then her vision blurred through teary eyes.

“I don’t know what to do!” She wrapped her arms around her love. Seeking the assurity that Sam always provided. “She’s getting worse! I never imagined she was capable of—”

The tall boy held her close, soothing her gently, “We’re gonna figure this out. I promise. I’m not gonna let her treat you like this anymore. But for now,” he leaned back slightly to look down at her, “why don’t we go have some fun?”




“Holy Crap…” Sam’s mouth gaped open like a fish.

“Steve’s rich... Like really really rich,” Wyn spoke in amazement, staring at the mansion before them. Warm lights glowed from the front facing windows of the three story home. Sounds of laughter and music sounded from behind the house. They could see a wrought-iron fence with hedges providing privacy to the back yard. The duo approached the enormous house, then knocked, but realized the door was slightly ajar. Taking the invite, they entered the party.

An open entryway with a wide staircase  The energy wasn’t crazy, but at the same time bustling. People who had never spoken to each other were scattered in the main entryway, talking and laughing together.

“Amigos!” Steve’s voice carried to their ears and then turned to see the teenager approaching them from the room to their right.

“Dude,” Sam greeted him, “Your house is amazing!”

“I told ya not to worry about it!” Steve said with a wink. They both could see their host’s eyes already bloodshot, holding a blunt in one hand, “Welcome, bienvenue, w illkommen and all that jazz. Glad you guys could make it!”

“Yeah,” Wyn smiled broadly, “took a little rebellious mischief, but we made it!”

“Whelp,” Steve pointed around, “Food and drinks are in the kitchen. Pool and hot tub are out back. And I got a smoking circle around the firepit. Do you two partake?”

They exchanged quick looks followed by awkward noises. Steve waved his hands, “No worries! Let me know if you change your minds. Got plenty of green for whoever wants it, and enjoy yourselves, ya crazy kids!” With that he shooed them away to go mingle with the rest of the party.

Surprisingly, Wyn recognized almost everyone there. While she might not remember their names, she could remember what classes she had with who, along with those she’d just seen passing in the halls over the past four years.

“Bronwyn! Sam!” They turned to see David Walker was weaving through the crowd holding the hand of a young man, Wyn could only assume was his boyfriend.

The stranger had jet black hair spiked up into a faux hawk. He sported a silver stud in his nose contrasting nicely with his olive tanned skin, and had black eyeliner delicately drawn around his caramel eyes. Pretty much, he was the complete opposite of shy, glasses-wearing, David.

“I’m glad you guys made it!”

Sam and Wyn smiled back genuinely glad to see him. “Hey David,” her bell-like voice cutting clear through the buzzing noise of the party, “who is this handsome fellow?”

David blushes but still grinned proudly, “Yes. This is Nikos. He’s my, uh - we—”

“I’m his boyfriend,” Nikos rolled his eyes, giving David a soft smack on the butt, before speaking to the two of them. “Bronwyn right? Nice to meet you sweetheart. Davey’s told me so much about you.” Wyn blinked in surprise at the thick Greek accent, and at the comment. David had mentioned her?

The handsome young man extended his hand, showing off a detailed sleeve tattoo picturing a feathered wing stretched the length of his bicep and onto his forearm in impressive black shading. She could see its mate on the other arm, currently being clung onto by David.

“Thanks,” Wyn took his hand and shook, “nice to meet you, too! I like your angel wings.”

“Actually, Cupid wings is more what I had in mind. And you must be the famous Sam… I owe you a thank you,” the young man’s charisma radiated as he extended his hand for Sam to take.

Sam raised his brow in slight surprise, “Oh really?”

“It’s because of you, we’re together.”

“Cause of me?”

“Well, sort of…” David explained, “That day that you punched Mike, I… I wasn’t feeling exactly confident. I mean, Nikos even told me I needed to start standing up for myself, and I just got my ass handed to me. But you told me -- do you remember what you said to me in the hall?”

“Yeah, I do,” Sam’s eyes shifted as if seeing the memory in front of him.

“You said it was brave of me to stand up to him. That there were people who wanted to be brave with me, too. And I hadn’t… we hadn’t started dating exactly. People always kinda figured, but I hadn’t come out yet. What you said… made me feel brave enough to kiss him for the first time.” David had turned his gaze to stare lovingly at his boyfriend.

Nikos smiled broadly, “You were so nervous... But I knew you’d fall for me,” and kissed him sweetly.

“Well,” Sam shrugged with a humble blush, “Happy you guys are happy.”

“Have you guys been out back yet?” David instantly turned and wobbled slightly.

“Not yet,” Wyn chimed in, “haven’t gotten a drink yet either, which I need to remedy ASAP.”

“Follow me, I need a refill,” David grabbed her hand and tipsily led her towards the kitchen. The two young men left there standing with amused smiles on their faces.

The black haired shorter boy shook his head on a laugh, “He’s such a lightweight. He’s only had one wine cooler if you can believe it.”

Sam let out a genuine laugh.

“So you and Bronwyn, huh?” He nudged Sam. “She the one?”

Sam blinked at the question. He took a breath, “Yeah… she’s definitely the one.”

“I’ve got a talent when it comes to these things. Seems like you two have something special… something like that comes along - you make sure you hold onto it with everything you got. Cause soulmates, Sam? They don’t always have it easy.”

“Soulmates?” Sam flustered, buzzed his lips, “I don’t know about all of that.”

Nikos looked at him with a curious calculative gaze. Sam shifted under the scrutiny. Then sounding wise beyond his years, the young man asked, “When she looked into your eyes for the first time… that first true look, what did you feel?”

“... I felt… it was like being struck by lightning, without the pain. Like a moment of clarity.”

His new friend nodded, “And how long until you realized you were in love with her?”

Sam blew out a string of air, “I don’t really know,” he shrugged. Feeling slightly unnerved at the frank observations.

“Yes, you do.”

He’s right. “The day I almost lost her. The day I finally asked her out.”

“Since I owe you, I’m gonna do you a solid and give you a bit of truth. Sam,” he reached to put his hand on Sam’s shoulder, “You and Bronwyn? There’s no power greater than the soulmate bond that you share. Love like that - is eternal.”

A million thoughts raced through his head. Questions trying to scramble to the surface. Sam didn’t laugh it off, or call him crazy. Nor did he turn the other direction and walk away. Simply uttered, “You’re sure?” Not even certain he had spoken aloud.

Nikos removed his hand, and slipped back into his playful attitude, “Like I said, kinda got a sixth sense when it comes to these things.”


David and Wyn rejoined them, and they each sported an extra drink for their significant other. Sam relaxed. As if he hadn’t just had an existential conversation with his classmates boyfriend.

“We should go mingle,” David spoke, “I wanted to find Claire. We’ll see you guys later!”

“We’ll talk more, don’t miss us too much!” Nikos winked at the pair, then allowed himself to be led by the hand once again through the crowd.

“He seems nice,” Wyn commented pleasantly.



It was surprising to both of them how easy the whole evening felt. There was a rare sense of comradery felt amongst the outcasts. And there wasn’t a doubt in Wyn’s mind she had made the right choice to come here. That was what she had grown into - The unexpected confidence to make her own decisions. To decide what was best for her.

After about 15 minutes of wandering through the party, engaging with classmates and even people from other schools, Sam and Wyn found themselves in the back yard. String lights hung above their heads connecting trees, wood poles and the tall fencing. There were a few people playing chicken in the pool, others circled around a rather impressive fire pit - the smoke in the air not just from the large flames - then they spied the hot tub and recognized a couple of the faces.

Throwing caution to the wind the pair made their way across the patio. “Hey guys!” Wyn waves happily to James and Jessie. Twins they had worked endless hours of AP Euro presentations with.

“Hey Winnie!” Jessie had fair skin, with tightly oriented freckles, and a LOT of curly fiery ginger hair. Her brother, sitting not to far from her in the water, had a matching skin tone, but his hair carried more of a burnt hue.

“Join us! Water’s fine,” James said reaching for his drink he had placed on the side of the tub. Sam and Wyn happily obliged, stripping down to their suits and placed their close safely aside. Wyn held back the urge to bite her lip at the sight of Sam’s bare chest, and distracted herself by quickly submerging her body in the water. They both relaxed and sighed at the bubbly sensations.

“I know right?” James grinned at the blissful look on Sam’s face. The tall boy just nodded. They all exchanged relief that high school was finally over, with stories of crazy teachers to make them all laugh.


It wasn’t long until their host joined them in the hot tub. Steve, shimmied in between Jessie and Wyn, all the while carefully holding his bowl pipe above the water, and lighter in the other. Once he was seated he took a long drag from the bowl.

“Anyone want a hit?” His voice tight from holding his breath, followed by masterful smoke rings.

“You know what?” Wyn exchanged a look with Sam, “why not? How do I do this?”

“Alright Evans! It’s a party now. You too, Winchester?”

Sam grinned, “Sure, but just a little I gotta drive us back tonight.”

Steve handed Wyn the pipe, and instantly she felt like the nube she was having no idea how to smoke it. The stoner boy laughed at her confused expression, “Hold it in your left hand, and place your thumb over this little side hole,” she did, “Now, I’ll light it for you. Inhale when I say and keep going till your lungs are full,” he flicked the lighter and held the flame over the dark green plant, “Breathe in, in, in, in,” the plant burned orange, “hold it for a sec, and—“ Wyn couldn’t hold it and started coughing out all the smoke, almost dropping the pipe into the hot tub. Laughter broke out, even Sam couldn’t hold back.

“That’s alright, you got a good hit! Miss One and Done!” Steve gave her a supportive slap on the back, which of course didn’t help her coughing fit. She was still struggling when Sam somehow managed to take a similar hit, with minimal coughing.

By the time, Wyn caught her breath, and she made sure Sam was okay… she was feeling good .

“There it is!” Steve praised the now bloodshot eyes of the two lovers.

“Hehe,” Wyn leaned in to snuggle Sam, “this is niiice .” He immediately returned her amorous behavior, pulling her to sit on his lap. A feeling of weightlessness filled her. Her head swam in a delightful way. The sensation of the water jets and the feel of Sam’s skin was practically orgasmic.

“Woah guys, keep it PG!” Jessie called out, when Sam had managed to shove his tongue down Wyn’s throat, obviously feeling pretty good himself. They managed to compose themselves now suddenly intrigued with the bubbles.


Hours passed, and the large gathering manage to dwindle down. It was after midnight when only a handful remained. Left sitting around the fire pit: Sam and Wyn - now dry and clothed coming down from their high, the twins, David and Nikos, Steve, and a buddy of Steve’s that Wyn couldn’t remember the name of, but she knew she had Pre-Calc with.

“Steve, man, we gotta know,” James, quite drunk at this point, spoke up taking a long sip from his drink, “how are you loaded?!”

Jessie, gave him a swift smack on the back of the head, “Don’t be rude!”

Steve laughed good naturedly, “My parents were the founders of a tech startup company that helps design software security systems. They were recently bought out by Apple. They’re in St. Bart’s for the weekend.”

The small circle of seniors just stared at the unsuspecting young man. Nikos let out a low whistle. Sam spoke, “Well thanks a million for hosting. I feel like we all really needed this.” There was much agreement around the circle.

“Whelp,” Steve stood holding what Wyn was positive was the biggest joint in Oregon, and raised it high, “Here’s to the class of 2002! To our future!”

“To our future!” The group all raised their respective drinks and paraphernalia. No one noticed, the meaningful gaze Wyn and Sam exchanged.

Sadly as the night was coming to a close, the remaining party go-ers parted ways. Out front Wyn hugged David and Jessie, before thanking Steve profusely. Sam could hear her say she regretted not spending more time trying to get to know him. Nikos turned to shake Sam’s hand again, “Remember what we talked about, yeah?”

He nodded, clasped the hand and pulling him in patting the shorter boys back quickly.

“Don’t think I can forget.”

The rest of their companions, stuffed into cars of designated drivers, began driving off in the night. Sam placed his arm around Wyn, and pulled her close with her back pressed to his front.

“I don’t want to go home yet.” He whispered, the despairing news his father shared with him earlier ringing in his mind. “Lemme take you somewhere.”

Though he couldn’t see it, Wyn smiled, “Let’s go.”




It was the perfect night. Warm and breezy. The two young lovers lay stretched out over the hood of the impala. Sam had found an empty field off the main road heading back to their part of town. The sky was black with clouds on the horizon, but just above they could see an open patch of sky. Stars blinking back at them in the comfortable silence.

Wyn felt Sam’s hand warm in her own, and couldn’t hold back the content grin from crossing her face. “Ya know, I’m gonna miss everyone - well, at least everyone at Steve’s, but I honestly can’t wait to get out of this place.”

Sam was quiet. A pensive look on his face. He stared up into the sky, as if he was looking beyond the stars.

“You okay?”

“My Dad wants us to move on.”

“What?” She sat up in shocked disbelief.

“Me and Dean and him. He wants to leave first thing in the morning. I’m telling him about Stanford tonight.”

Wyn’s heart began to race. “He— you can't! W-we still have time. Graduation’s in two weeks, why—”

“Run away with me.”


“Run away with me. I mean it,” Sam sat up and turned towards her taking her hands firmly in his larger ones, “I don’t know what Dad’ll say when I tell him, but… it’ll be bad. We get on a bus, and just go.”

“Wh-... how will we—”

“We’ll figure it out. I’ve got a little money saved… Wyn. I want out,” his misty eyes locked with her own, “Of hunting, of the whole life. It’s ugly, and horrifying. I want to be with you.”

Wyn was shaking. Not from fear. Not quite excitement. Something new and altogether wonderful. With a hopeful smile, her lips parted in response, but raindrops started to fall. She looked up briefly, and then the sky opened up. They should have seen it coming, really. Thunder rolls and lightning flashes had been getting closer and more frequent the distance for almost half an hour.

Swiftly, Sam slid off the hood of the Impala, and Wyn followed suit. In a matter of seconds the rain had intensified, coming down in thick sheets of water. Their clothes now soaked through, they scrambled to the side of the car. Sam opened the back door, “Quick get in!” He hollered over the sound of the storm.

Once inside, she moved to the far side making room for Sam. Staring at him with cool certainty. There was a small beat of silence between them, with only the rain pounding on the steel frame of the classic car. Lightning flashed, followed a moment later by a deep thunder roll.  

“You’re serious?” her voice a bare whisper.

Sam looked to her, his hair dripping wet in front of his eyes, “Yes,” his voice shook with anticipation. “I don’t want that life for you, for us. Come with me…”

A lone tear, fell from her eye, “Yes…” She reached for him, wrapping her arms around his neck, “Take me away from here, Sam!”

    When their lips joined, they knew something had shifted. Something resounding, powerful. For that moment, only the two of them existed. There was no time, no world outside their secret paradise. With easy movements, the two unleashed the deep unabating love they felt. No frenzied tangle of limbs. Just two forms moving together, in perfect sync. Slowly, as they kissed and touched, clothes were peeled off. The sound thunder increased in tambor and intensity, bright flashes illuminated the curtain of water surrounding them, but they only had eyes for each other.

    Eventually, Wyn was on her back only in her bras and jeans. Sam’s shirt lay somewhere on the front seat. With slow, deliberate action Sam unbuttoned her jeans and slid them off. His hands stroked her creamy thighs and discarded the denim. He leaned forward, and while looking into her eyes, planting worshipful kisses on her belly and down to her black silky panties.

    As he teased the elastic with his teeth, Wyn rose her hips to aid their removal. Now, she lay exposed before him. When she felt the shock of his mouth against her sex, she moaned out. Sweetly, he licked, sucked, and penetrated her with his hot tongue. The pleasure built up in her core like the rising tide. Gradually, filling her every cell, she spread her legs as wide as she could, her right leg propped on the back of the rear seat. With her head thrown back, she reached and gently carded her fingers through his thick hair. Their heavy breathing, had fogged up the windows by the time she felt the snap approaching.

    Gently, she pushed him back. He tilted his head slightly. “I want to come together... I want to feel you.”

    Sam simply pulled back, bringing her upright with him. With surprisingly gentle strength, he lifted her thighs and situated her on his lap. Their skin slick from the heat of the cars interior and rain, they breathed as one. In and out they could sense every moment, every beat of their heart, they were closer to becoming one.

    Wyn placed her hands on his shoulders, and gently pressed down to help lift herself up. Sam shaking, positioned himself, and in one true moment of love and passion, he entered her. Her hips began gyrating, and Wyn moaned at the purely sensational feeling. Together they moved, and gasped, and clung to the string tying them to this world.

    Sexes thrust together, stretching the young girl to the brink. This - this was more than a simple fuck, more than soulmates making love, this… was worship . Each breathy sigh into the mouth of their lover, each point of skin on skin contact, the power they felt. All of it was to show their utter dedication, and it was chasing something. Neither knew quite what it was they were seeking, only knowing they would find it together.

    “Wyn,” Sam gasped, “Oh God, Wyn --- I love you so much,” his read reeled back resting on the back of the seat.

    His beautiful paramour riding him with a look of other worldly pleasure on her face. Wyn reached behind her, spreading her arms out beside her along the back of the front seat. She arched her back and screamed out at the stimulation. Sam gripped her waist with his large hands, lifted her and thrust in time with the roll of her hips. The young lovers stared into each other's soul, reaching out desperate to be joined… to be re -joined. At the moment lightning struck on the other side of the field, SamWyn cried out in union. Their bodies snapped together.

Their shared moment of ecstasy, shook awake something deep inside them. An old eternal sensation. Something that blinked open, binding their essence together saying, There you are… I’ve missed you.

Eyes of the young lovers locked on like clinging to their bond. Holding on for dear life, they revelled in the divine love felt between them. They saw reflected that spark, the air that God breathed into dust at The Beginning… the spark of life. It felt so surreal. Sam eyes glistened at the overwhelming sensation, holding Wyn’s form, shaking.
    Wyn… ” The name tumbled from his lips like a prayer. Like it held an all encompassing meaning. Lover. Other. Soulmate . Her mind supplied.

A soft unbelieving laugh bubbled up, pure happiness felt all the way to her fingertips and toes. Sam was hers. And she was his. Forever.

“I love you,” her voice quivered on the laugh, “You’re the One, Sam…”

Sam’s eyes fluttered shut, he exhaled, and rested his forehead against hers as silent twin tear tracks ran down his face.

“Take me away,” her voice unwavering, “you promised.”

“I will. I am,” he rubbed his hands up and down her back. He kissed her gently. They relaxed their forms and they separated. Promptly cleaning the evidence of their romp in the backseat of Baby. Wyn’s heart piqued when she remembered. She turned just as Sam pulled on the second sleeve of his overshirt.

“I almost forgot, Sam,” he looked at her, “tell Dean… ask him to come with us.”

Sam was speechless. Knowing that nothing more needed to be said, he wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. Overjoyed that she understood him so completely. He didn’t know whose side Dean would take. He hoped… he’d just have to ask him and find out.




Wyn, her damp hair just starting to dry, dashed around her room, eyes searching for anything she may have missed. Her charger, wallet, and stash of babysitting money were in the front pocket of her duffel bag. A decent conglomerate of clothes were hastily stuffed into the main part.

“Divide and conquer” that was the plan. She had only a few minutes to gather her belongings before she had to meet Sam at the bus station. Remembering, her eyes darted to the book shelf. She grabbed on the top shelf her photo album and at eye level, The Hobbit . She took it in her other hand, and briefly clutched them both to her chest.

After stuffing them on either side of the clothes she zipped the bag shut. On her vanity she had placed a note as with a vaguely written note. Bitterly, she had thought her Aunt didn’t deserve an explanation, but her guilt got the better of her.

Wyn gave a final look across her room. It was a mess with drawers hanging half open, and discarded items on the floor. She fingered the necklace Sam gave her and her silver charm bracelet jingled. Hoisting the duffle bag strap on her shoulder, the young girl turned to leave.

    “Where do you think you’re going?”

The teen froze. Stacy stood at the top of the stairs, and Wyn’s heart raced.

“I-I’m leaving. Sam and I. We’re leaving Eagle Point.”

Fire erupted in Stacy’s eyes. In the distance, Wyn heard the front door slam shut on its own. In the blink of an eye, Wyn was pinned to the wall. The duffle bag dropped to the floor. Her feet dangled just above the ground, with her aunts hand gripping her throat holding her in place.

“You’re not going anywhere young lady,” her voice was eerily calm. Wyn gasped clutching at her throat, trying to pry the fingers away. She stared into her aunts eyes, pleading for release… then her heart dropped when she saw Stacy’s eyes turn black. Wyn was thrown to the ground hard. Air filled her lungs, and she coughed violently. Pain emanating from her throat.

“You-- you’re not my Aunt. What did you do to her?!” instinctively the girl began backing away, shuffling her body across the floor.

“Gold star little one. I’m just taking your whore aunt for a ride.”

“Let her go!”

“Hmmm… no. Don’t think I will.”

Wyn scrambled to her feet and raced downstairs to the front door. But Not-Stacy was faster. It grabbed her by the hair as she reached the bottom step, and dragged her towards the kitchen. Wyn kicked and screamed, trying to free herself from the monsters grasp. Trying desperately to escape. She had to get to Sam. He would know how to help Stacy.

Her captor threw open a door in the kitchen. The door opened to the top of the steps leading down to the basement.

“In ya go!” It grabbed her by the arm, dragging her to the top step, released its grip and then pushed. Wyn tumbled down the stairs hard. Blindly, she reached out to grab hold on anything. Upon grasping a wooden post of the railing, she felt a pop in her shoulder. Instantly the pain made her release and she fell straight back. White hot pain erupting from the back of her skull, and her vision blurred. The last thing she saw was the thing using her poor Aunts body, sauntering down the stairs. She tried to sit up, but her vision tunneled and then darkened.


Wyn came to an unknown amount of time later, and instantly wished she hadn’t. The evil creature stood above her, with a wicked gaze pointed at her. When she tried to sit up, her vision swam and nausea crept up from her gut. Groaning, she reached back to the painful injury on her head. It was then she realized her hands and feet were bound, as she lay crumpled on a cot on the cold ground. Seemed her prison was now the shabby corner of the basement.

“What are you going to do to Stacy?” she demanded.

“Oh Honey, she isn’t the one you should worry about.”

“... You’re a monster. You won’t get away with this.”

“Oh, I am so much more than a monster,” it’s eyes went black once again, “I’m a demon. And I’m worse than anything you could fathom.” The evil thing crossed its arms grinning, “No, Stacy really isn’t the one you should be worrying about... You should know she’s awake in here.” Wyn felt her heart drop, “and it’s because of you. You and Sam just couldn’t stick to the plan, ya had to get ahead of schedule.” The demon shook its head, “Oh well, that’s what the boss sent me for, I guess.”

“What are you going to do?” She was petrified. But she would be damned if she would let this thing know that.

The Demon slapped its hand against the concrete wall next to her head, and articulated in a gluttonous tone, “Whatever the hell I want.”

“... Why are you doing this to me?”

“Because it had to be you,” It touched her cheek, cupping with almost gentle care. “Don’t worry. As soon as you break, things will be so much easier. You have no idea what’s in your future. Such great and terrible things. I’m here to guide you. Sweet Bronwyn…”

Wyn turned her head toward the offending hand, and bit down hard, drawing blood. The demon reeled back with a yell - fire burning in those usually gentle eyes. Then, the smack of the palm against the young girls cheek stung fiercely. She knew it would bruise. But she didn’t care. Wyn glared at her captor. Anger and the promise of vengeance reflected in her blue eyes.

“Now you stay here like a good little girl and keep quiet. I’ve gotta go break your boyfriend's heart.” It pulled out a thick roll of fabric and shoved it into Wyn’s mouth, gagging her, and tied a thick strip tightly to keep her silent. Her muffled cries diminished as she fought against the ropes binding her hands and feet. Then with a sinister smile taunting her, Wyn saw a fist flying towards her face, and everything went black once more.




“Sam.” The demon's voice was cold and detached. It had waited on the porch for the boy to come. It knew he would, having gathered from all the texts on the girls phone, that if she didn’t meet him that something was wrong.

The warm air hung thickly in the summer night, when Sam turned the corner onto the street, and stormed up the driveway, glaring at what he thought was Stacy Evans. Alone. That was a relief that there wasn’t another Winchester with him. That meant the boy was heading in the right direction.

“Where’s Wyn?”

Demon-Stacy smirked internally. The Boy King was shaking with anger. Good. He would need that anger if the Master’s plan was to work.

“She left.”

“Why I don’t believe you?” His voice dripping sass.

It pointed to the empty driveway, “She took off in my car an hour ago. Crying. Said she couldn’t take it anymore.”

Sam pushed passed her/it, and threw the front door open calling for Wyn. He raced upstairs to the girls room. The demon followed, playing its part well. When it caught up to Sam, the boy was standing near Wyn’s bed. Staring around the room with a look of pained disbelief. Drawers still half open, with a majority of the contents missing. The vanity in disarray. When the demon saw Sam’s eye locked on her bookshelf, it knew it won. A very specific book missing from it’s space like a gaping wound. The book the girls aunt had given her as a present for her sixth birthday. The Hobbit.

“I don’t… why would she—”
    “I was hoping you could answer that for me. She ran away to get away from you . She was terrified.” Sam stared dumbfounded. It could feel the boys pain and fear. It was so delicious. “Did you honestly think she would be with someone like you the rest of her life? She actually has a future. You want her to throw that all away for you?”

“No… she wouldn’t…”

“She would. She has. I don’t know what you said to her, but she said, ‘ Tell him, I’m sorry.’ Sam,” the demon stepped close, feigning a sympathetic look, “It’s over.”


“She’s gone. Gone to live a better life than what you could give her... If you really love her, you need to let her go.”


Sam was frozen. All hope had been sucked out of him. Past the point of heartbreak, he felt a gaping black hole where his heart should be. He didn’t remember leaving the Evans home. Nor could clearly picture giving the teller at the bus station money, to catch the last bus out of Eagle Point… all he could see was her face.

They had been so happy how did things get so… he was alone. John had been livid. Dean looked betrayed, and that hurt worse than John’s anger, but less than Wyn leaving him. Honestly, he should have expected it. He thought loving her with everything he had in him was enough to shield her from that dark part of his life, but he was wrong. And Wyn knew. She knew that darkness and horror was a part of him. Once a freak, always a freak.

Sam was alone. The last thought on his mind as he looked at the sunrise, Wyn...




Weeks passed leading into months. Each day the demon would bring down food for Wyn. Obviously the demon didn’t want to kill her, or it would have already. It had said it would break her. Taking pure delight in saying things to remind her she was all alone. No one was looking for her. That she would never get out of there.

But she’s knew she would get free. She’s would find Sam and she would explain everything. The Demon had taken great pleasure in tormenting her with the story of his heartbreak upon realizing she had abandoned him.

The thought that this thing wanted to keep her away from Sam, spurred her desire to escape… but Wyn had no clue how she would manage that. The day following the start of her incarceration, her captor had drilled shackles attached to chains on the wall. Shackles had then been locked onto her ankles and wrists. She was able to take small solace in that there was a half bath in the basement. She wouldn’t be forced the indignity of soiling herself as the demon had been “courteous” enough to allow the length of her bindings to reach the small room, from her bed. Wyn’s bed remained one of the cots, she remembered Dean and Sam using over Christmas… the thought always made her heart hurt.

Even if she was able to pick the lock on her chains, there was no way she’d be able to get through the door at the top of the stairs. The demon had installed a steel lock on the outside, so it could only be opened from the kitchen. While she was given basic sustenance each day, It seemed the plan was to keep her locked up for a long time.

There were a couple small windows in the middle of the wall near the ceiling. One day after about a month, Wyn had been brave enough to stretch the length of her chain to stack a couple boxes and climbed up, only to be filled with dismay seeing those windows locked from the outside as well. Plus, even though she wasn’t large by any means, there was no way she would be able to escape that way.


    From her quiet isolation, Wyn saw time pass from her dark prison. Every day she whispered a private prayer. She prayed that Sam was safe. And with constant hope, she prayed for the opportunity for her freedom. Then, every night, she escaped to her perfect paradise in her mind, where she and Sam were happy and far far from there.

    Sometime later, just before the leaves were changing, Wyn was starting to worry she was getting sick. It hadn’t gotten cold quite yet, it was only mid-September, if her tally marks were accurate. But she’d been getting increasingly fatigued, and seemed to be throwing up most of her meals. She’d even felt a weird popcorn feeling in her belly. Idly, she wondered what the demon would do if it were to come home and find her dead one day. But she forced the thought from her mind. Even if Sam left, they could still be together once she got out of there!

It wasn’t until a couple weeks after that, when her nausea was lessening, that she noticed the bloating in her belly wasn’t going away. Wyn was sitting upright, her head pressed against the cool concrete wall when she a sudden movement in her lower abdomen struck icy fear in her heart.

“Oh no! No no no no please.. .”

Wyn’s hands shot to her stomach, and there it was again. She had been in denial. She chalked all the symptoms up to the stress and trauma of being held prisoner. The fatigue, nausea, backaches, even her missed periods. But as she felt the strong distinctive kicks she knew without a doubt, she was pregnant. Suddenly, it was no longer just about her escaping, but keeping her baby alive. Her and Sam’s child. Woefully, evil is clever, and you can’t keep a secret from a demon forever.




Chapter Text

Wyn was alone. 

Completely and utterly alone. Time passed, and the theoretical escape she continued to envision seemed further and further away. No one came looking for her. But, while she was no closer to her master escape, she had become quiet educated on how to best survive the demonic captivity mostly intact.

At the beginning, Wyn was petrified everytime she heard the locks at the top of the stairs, certain that unspeakable torture was coming. But it never did. The Demon seemed to continue Stacy’s daily routine. It had to keep up appearances after all, so no one would get suspicious. It wanted to break her. Seemingly uninterested in doing so physically, It excelled in emotional and psychological abuse. That was the first thing she learned: to isolate her mind, when the demon would start saying the sort of things that would break a young girls heart. 

The second thing was how to hide her growing belly, without making it look like she was hiding it. Using the knowledge from pregnant girls hiding it at school or even movies. Usually, feigning up a couple whimpers, cowering against the wall, looking away seemed to amuse the Demon. Though occasionally, this technique would prompt the evil creature to linger and continue tormenting her. Eventually, though, It would get bored and leave. 


For now things were quiet…


“Easy there little one,” Wyn exhaled slowly, and pressed at the painful kicks to her diaphragm back down. She smiled brightly, they were becoming more and more frequent. He, or she, was strong. “You’re gonna have your Dad’s long legs aren’t you?” Idly, she wondered if the baby would have her eyes or his. Hopefully, the baby would inherit those killer dimples. 

“You’ll like him,” Wyn continued stroking her belly affectionately, while she spoke. She tried to take as much time to talk to the baby when Demon-Stacy wasn’t in the house. Hoping to lessen the stress the baby was undoubtedly feeling. “He’s really smart. Like me, but not gonna lie, your Dad’s smarter. He’s gonna be a lawyer… and if everything works out, you’ll get to see Dean too. If he was mad about Sam leaving, I’m sure they’ll make amends with you in the picture,” she chuckled, “Your Uncle Dean… he’s wonderful. He took care of your Dad practically his whole life. Cooked for him, taught him to read, to ride a bike…” 

Her voice cut out, as a wave of emotion overcame her. As she had been prone to lately. Blinking away tears, Wyn attempted to compose herself, “Friggin mood swings… When enough time as passed, I’m totally gonna lay into Sam not being there for the pregnancy stuff, cause kid I gotta tell you, this would suck under the best of circumstances. Of course with the pickle we’re in…” Her gaze shifted around the same room she’d been staring at for months. Just a bit defeated. But that feeling would pass too. She wasn’t a little girl anymore. 

Wyn often considered what she would do when she broke free and was able to reunite with Sam. College seemed like such an inconceivable thing with a baby. Of course, she could always try a few online courses to start. That would give her freedom to educate herself in the new things that interested her. 

Things that normal people considered just folklore and ghost stories. The Winchesters had given her a taste of what was out there. But Demons… that was definitely outside her wheelhouse. And afterall, knowledge can be very powerful. 


Suddenly, the tell-tale sound of the Demon returning home from the hospital alerted her. She quickly pulled the blanket over her shoulders, and turned to the side. 

“Winniiie. I’m home,” It called out in a singsong voice practically skipping down the stairs. 

“Didja miss me?” Per custom, the Demon grabbed the chair at the foot of the stairs and dragged it across the floor stopped directly in front of Wyn, “How was your day?” It placed a plated sandwich and water before her and sat down. Dinner.

Quite exhausted Wyn shut her eyes and remained silent. Attempting to retreat to her happy place.

“Come on Snickerdoodle ,” It taunted, “I miss our talks. It’s like you’re mad at me or something…” Demon-Stacy paused thoughtfully. Obviously, reaching.

“Poor little orphan Bronwyn. Well - I guess technically not an orphan. Your Daddy’s just cuckoo for Coco Puffs. Might as well be dead.”

Wyn clenched her jaw.

“She never loved you ya know. Stacy.”

“Stop it,” Wyn didn’t look up. Her eyes stubbornly closed, hands stuffed into the front pocket of her oversized hoodie from beneath her blanket.

“I mean, how could she? No one wants to be stuck with some squalling brat while they’re on their own. Ended all chances of her finding love. Bye-bye social life.”

“No.” Just ignore It. It’s lying.

“Always resented you for that. She was happy… until you.”

Wyn glared sharply, taking the demon by surprise, “I know you’re lying.”

“Oh really? How’s that?”

“I can always tell when someone’s bluffing.” The demon’s face shifted. Her voice lowered, “I know what love feels like. My Aunt? She loves me. And someday I’m going to get out of here, and I’ll send you back to Hell, so help me God.”

“God? Hah!” The Demon stood tall, “God’s left the building, sweetheart. You think this world is yours? No. It’s a playground for me and my kind. And soon all of demonkind will walk the Earth. Blood, Fire, and Death will rain down on your pathetic little species. It will be glorious. Maybe…” It kneeled, placing a single finger under her chin and lifted, “Maybe someday, you’ll start to see things our way.”

Wyn jerked her face away, “Never. You evil, pathetic piece of—-.”  

The demon swung a hard punch, and smirked, “Just you wait till the boss gets a hold of you. He’s going to love you...” Running a thumb along the now broken skin on her cheek bone, It laughed. Finally, heading back upstairs. “Oh,” It turned to look back, “I almost forgot. Happy Thanksgiving!”

Wyn relaxed, her fingers instinctively went to her cheek. Then winced. She felt the baby turn and roll around sensing her distress. “It’s alright sweetheart, I’m okay. Just a scratch.”

Despite feeling exhausted she forced herself to eat the sandwich The Demon had supplied and took slow sips from the water. She had to keep up her strength for both their sakes. Something in her gut told her to look out for opportunity. It had been many months, so maybe It would slip up somehow. 

After finishing her meager sustenance, the young woman closed her eyes and laid down. She offered a prayer for Sam’s health and happiness and a prayer for the life of her child.


It was barely night when Wyn’s eyes opened again. A strange noise sounded from the backyard. Wyn on instant alert, she rose steadily to her feet. She saw movement in the shadows through the high windows, and was able to pick out voices. Children’s voices. Carefully, she tip-toed across, and climbed up some boxes to peek out.

“Help me find my ball! I know it landed back here somewhere,” a little boy whispered.

“I told you we can’t be here! Missus Evans will be real mad! Daddy can get it tomorrow,” Wyn recognized the urgent whisper.

“Molly!?” The figures turned abruptly to the window. Two young faces then appeared against the glass. Molly Jefferson and a little boy, Wyn now recognized as her cousin. The boy held a flashlight and shined it through the window, illuminating her prison. Her heart pounded with sudden hope. 

“Winnie?! What are you doing in there?! Daddy said you ran away,” Molly crouched down her face close to the glass eyes wide with fear.

“Molly, thank God! I need your help - Run home as fast as you can. Get your Dad, tell him to call the police. Tell them I’ve been locked down here for months.”


“Please, Molly, I need you to be brave. Go as fast as you can!”

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” An angry voice came from behind her, and Wyn saw the Demon at the top of the stairs. It was furious, and then turned to race to the front door.

“Molly run! GO NOW!”

The confused, terrified children scrambled away. The sound of their running through grass, and around the side of the house carried away. Upstairs, the demon slammed the front door shut. Wyn climbed down and retreated to her corner. When It returned, she knew the kids were safe.

“You little BITCH! You’re going to regret that!” The demon stormed down the steps into the basement. 

Wyn huddled over on her knees against the wall holding the blanket around her, trying as much as possible to shield her stomach. She glared triumphantly. 

“The police are on their way. You won’t be able to smooth talk anyone away now. You lose!”

It stood shaking with rage, wearing scrubs no doubt for an upcoming shift. Then, it relaxed the face it was borrowing, rolled its neck, and sighed, “Yes, an unfortunate bump in the road,” it stepped toward Wyn and withdrew a wicked looking knife from behind its back, “but I’ve got Plans B through Z already prepped and ready to go. It was an honor to have this assignment, and yes, I’ll have to come up with a good story to cover my ass, but I am gonna enjoy this!” It raised the blade high.

Wyn terrified wrapped her arm over her stomach huddled over to protect the life inside her. She heard the sickening sound of a blade cutting through skin and muscle tissue, but felt no pain. She looked up. The knife deep in Stacy’s gut.

“NO!” The young woman cried out and forced herself to her feet. The Demon still clutched the blade embedded in Stacy’s stomach, then twisted hard. “STOP!” Wyn reached out, her chains rattled, but It pulled out and dropped the blade. Then, pinned her arms to her side. The human struggled weakly against the supernatural strength. 

“Check out the girl who just can’t say no.” Wyn saw with dismay the bloody wound pressed against her obviously pregnant belly. “You little whore,” It chuckled with malicious intent.

“Let go of me!” Wyn fought against it’s hold, eyes wide with panic.

The Demons eyes turned obsidian. “Guess I’ll have to clean up this mess, too!”

It moved It’s hand to her stomach. 

“No don’t please!”

Then a white hot pain erupted from her pelvis. Excruciating pain spread through her abdomen, and she screamed in agony. The pain radiated through her core, leaving her shaking. 

The Demon grabbed her by the chin and kissed her on the lips. Wyn nearly vomited from the pain and sheer revulsion. It broke the kiss, lips lingering over hers. 

“Farewell, sweet Bronwyn. I’ve truly enjoyed our time together. But for now this is Good-Bye. My Pale Queen.”

A screeching sound filled the basement as black smoke expelled from Stacy’s body. It smashed against the ceiling before leaving through the now broken window. Then it was quiet. Wyn was barely standing when she locked eyes with her Aunt. Stacy stood disoriented. She was back!

“Aunt Stacy?” Tears in her eyes and hope in her voice, Wyn reached out. 

Shakily, Stacy’s had trailed toward her wound. It looked bad. Then, she staggered.

“No no,” Wyn grabbed her, held her, and lowered them unceremoniously to the ground, “Aunt Stacy?! I got you - talk to me!”

Wyn peered through her watery eyes searching for strength. Cradling her loved one.

“I don’t--I d-didn’t--,” The older woman coughed, blood trickling from her mouth.

“I know, I know,” Wyn held her, tears falling freely, her hand pressed to Aunt’s bloody wound. “You’re gonna be fine. It’s fine. It’s okay,” she repeated trying to convince herself.

“Wyn, h-honey,” the woman struggled weakly, “I’m sorry. For everything,” Stacy reached up, her palm placed gently on her niece’s cheek. Wyn reached up to hold her hand in place. 

“Shh… I know. It wasn’t you. It wasn’t you. Please, hold on. Help’s on the way.”

“Snickerdoodle...” Aunt Stacy’s eyes glazed over, she took a final shuddering breath, “I love you...” and the light in her eyes flickered. It was over. Her lifeless body, being held helplessly by the young woman. Wyn cringed at the sharp pain from her belly, but ignored it for the debilitating pain in her heart. 

“NO!” Wyn screamed. Her cry stretched out until long after she felt the pain in her vocal chords. Her loud sobs echoed in the concrete space. Heartbroken cries hanging in the air. She held her Aunt’s body close, rocking back and forth. 

Then, she felt a song surface in her mind. A shimmering light from their past, and opened her mouth sounding the melancholy dirge, “ Blackbird singing in the dead of night,” her hands shaking reached up and closed the woman’s eyes gently, “ Take these broken wings and learn to fly… ” She was truly alone now. “ All your life, You were only waiting for this moment to arrive…” Distantly, she could hear sirens barreling down the street, “ Blackbird fly... Into the light of the dark black night. ” Banging sounded from the front door. 


Blackbird fly …”

The sound of the door being broken open, finally shook Wyn from her private moment. The last moment she would ever with her Aunt in this life. Heavy footsteps thundered into the home, scattering down the halls. A police officer rushed down the stairs into the basement, gun drawn, and stopped when he saw the young woman on the floor, holding the bloody body.

“Please…” Wyn forced through her pain and tears, “please, help me, I’m pregnant… somethings wrong!”




Wyn sat upright and still in her hospital bed. Silent. Medical staff had long since cleaned up. She held in her arms a baby boy. He was still. No steady rise and fall of his tiny chest. Little fingers, not gripping the hand holding them. 


That was the explanation they gave her when they handed her her dead son. 

Melissa Hale stood in the doorway to her room. She had been on the clock, about to go home when Wyn had been brought in, and refused to leave. The part of her that was present was grateful it wasn’t another doctor… or a police officer. Melissa sat next to traumatized young woman, wrapping an arm over her shoulder, just being with her.

“If you’d like, I can take some pictures,” Melissa held up a small digital camera, “I know it might not seem like it now, but you might want them someday.” The nurse’s voice was calming and gentle. 

Wyn simply nodded. And she took a few shots of Wyn holding him, and close ups of him. If you didn’t know he could almost be sleeping.

“Wyn, honey, the police wanted to ask you some questions…I told them to wait until you’re ready.” She nodded again wordlessly. “Do you have any idea why Stacy would do something like this?”

The young woman stared ahead in a trance, her mind muddling through. If she told the truth no one would believe her. Or worse, she would end up like her father. “She wasn’t herself...I don’t know. It was just like she was different. She wasn’t herself…” her eyes teared up and she looked to her aunts dear friend, “They won’t understand, but it wasn’t her fault.”

“Breathe,” The nurse stepped close to calm the rising wave of hysterics, placing her hands on the girls shoulders. “Honey, nobody’s talking to you just yet, okay? You just went through something extremely traumatic. I’m gonna give you as much time alone with him as I can.”

Wyn’s eyes lowered again to the silent still baby in her arms. Her child. Gone. “I didn’t even get the chance to meet him…”
“He’s a beautiful baby boy… I’m so sorry this happened to you.” 

There was a calm pause as they stared at the innocent being.

“Does he have a name?” 

She peered at the small bundle in her arms and fresh tears fell. 

“His name is Thomas. Thomas Winchester.” 




The hospital kept Wyn under observation for a few days. They wanted to monitor her vitals, to ensure there were no complications from the miscarriage. During that time, Wyn was forced to endure multiple questioning from the police.

Everyone tried to piece together, how Stacy Evans, a pillar of the community, could do something so awful. Luckily, people bought into the “family history of mental illness” story. Since her father, Stacy’s brother, was institutionalized, it wasn’t a far stretch. The hospital Psychiatrist even paid her a visit to explain the symptoms of PTSD and evaluate her mental state.

Then, the financial annoyances came. First, someone from Stacy’s life insurance company informed her she was lucky. Normally, their policy wouldn’t pay out for suicides, but only if the policy was taken out in the past three years. They had tried denying her claim, but since the Evan’s estate lawyer argued Stacy had bought a policy the day she won custody of baby Wyn, so they had to pay out. Though, it would take a long time for them to process it. 

Then, real estate agents swarmed her asking if she was going to put her Aunt’s house on the market. Melissa shooed them away, once she realized what had happened. She reminded Wyn that if that’s the route she wanted to go, that the Sunday School teacher at their church had her license and would take care of it when the time came. 

It took weeks for the whole mess to be cleared up. Stacy left everything to Wyn. The house, all her possessions, everything. The Jeffersons, as well as some of the nurses from the hospital, helped Wyn donate and sell things accordingly from the house. She only kept a few things for herself. All her Aunt’s tour shirts from her “wild summer”, Stacy’s leather jacket she had admired since she was a girl, her jewelry, vinyl records, Bible, and any pictures she could find. Shawna Jefferson and Melissa both tried to convince her to put some furniture in storage, to fill her future home, but Wyn refused. She didn’t even know what her future looked like now. 

During this time, Wyn tried to contact Sam everyday. Each time she tried his number, it was disconnected. He was at Stanford, she knew that much. After some digging, she managed to get a hold of the student directory listing Sam’s dormitory. She had no idea how Sam would react after all this time. Seeing how the Demon convinced him she didn’t love him and had run away… hopefully he would hear her out, and if he did, she hoped he would forgive.

Forgive her for hurting him, for not realizing sooner what was wrong with Stacy… and for little Thomas’ stillbirth.




Stanford’s campus was beautiful. Wyn couldn’t help, but observe the architecture and layout of the school. Warmth blossomed in her chest at the thought of Sam following his dreams here. Another part of her ached that Sam was alone and heartbroken when he reached the place he dreamed about. 

After asking for directions twice, she was finally headed the right way. It was morning, so there were only a few students out and about. When she approached the right building, she was starting to get nervous. Stomach in knots, she swallowed.
“Well, hello there! You must be new,” a voice spoke. She looked towards a young man, seated on the low wall, just outside the dorm on his laptop. He had blonde hair, styled nicely, and a confident grin on his face.. “You lost?” he asked.

“Actually, I’m looking for someone.”

“Oh? Maybe I can help! Who’s a pretty girl like you looking for?”

“Do you know Sam Winchester?”

Wyn could see he did by the look of recognition. “Yeah, I know Sam. Buddy of mine. We live on the same hall. But he’s gone to class already. He usually doesn’t get back until late.”

“Oh… do you know where?”

He shook his head sympathetically, “Sorry. I don’t know what classes he’s taking. I’m not exactly the best listener,” he laughed in a self-deprecating way. Disappointment washed over her. “If you want, I can tell him you’re looking for him. What’s your name?”

“Bronwyn, how pretty. The name’s Brady,” he rose to his feet and with his height towered over her. His hand extended. She shook it without a thought.

“Brady, yes, thank you! I would really appreciate it. It’s urgent,” she withdrew a letter she wrote for this exact scenario, “If you could give him this? Tell him… I need to see him. I’m staying at the Park Inn just down the way.” The letter itself was fairly vague. What she endured… it was something she needed to tell Sam to his face. He deserved that.

“Sure thing!” He took the letter, “Was planning on staying in and playing video games all day anyway. I’ll catch him when he gets back.”

“Thank you!” Wyn breathed a sigh of relief, “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this. It’s really important I see him.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll put this in his hands myself,” Brady held the envelope up and smiled.

When the young woman waved and turned to head back to the dingy motel she was staying at, the young man stood still until she was out of sight.

Brady smirked, “Sweet, sweet Bronwyn, I told you before,” the letter ignited in flames in his hand, “you’re getting ahead of schedule.” The remains of the paper crumpled into ash, floating to the ground. Black eyes peering after the young girl.




Where is he? 

Wyn had tried to keep herself occupied with TV, but it couldn’t keep her attention. She had tried reading, but would get overwhelmed and start crying. Anxiety had worked its way deep into her mind, leaving her exhausted.

It had been hours since she left the message for Sam. When hunger struck she ordered delivery so she wouldn’t miss him. But he still hadn’t come. Worry making her so sick, she had vomited twice. She continued to wait, like a woman condemned. 

Finally, hours after sunset. There was a soft knock at the door to her motel room. Her heart raced. This was it.

“Sam!” She opened the door, and her shoulders fell. “Brady? What are you -- Where’s Sam?”

“Uh, he’s… he’s not coming.”


“He’s not coming.”

Her brain struggled to process the information. Slowly she stepped back, as if distancing herself from the source of such new would make it untrue. Sam wasn’t coming? “He… did he read my letter?”

 Brady sighed, “He did,” the young man stepped inside closing the door behind him, “Read it and tore it up. I’m… I’m sorry,” he struggled, seeming very uncomfortable.

Wyn lowered shakily to the foot of the bed, unable to keep upright. The pain in her heart ready to tear her apart. “I have to see him. He needs to know.” 

She reached for the leather jacket next to her, put it on, and moved to leave.

“Woah, woah, wait. Hold on…” the young man held up his hands softly, “It’s Bronwyn right?”


“Wyn… look I don’t know exactly what happened between you two, but it fucking destroyed him. He was a mess. And when he read that letter… he doesn’t want to see you. I think it would be best if you left.”

“No,” she shook her head frantically, “no I have to tell him. He needs to know what happened - that I still love him.”

“If you really love about him, you need to let him go. He’s moved on.” 

“... Moved on?” 

“Yeah. Since the beginning of the semester, actually,” the young man sheepishly stuck his hands in his pockets. “I’m really sorry.”

More than anything Wyn wanted the Earth to open up and swallow her. Her perpetual nightmare kept getting worse. Her mind filled with images of Sam with another girl. Touching, kissing, holding each other. This mystery girl had been the one to pick up the broken pieces. Wyn and Sam were supposed to be forever. She was too late...

“Is he happy?” Her voice trembled. She blinked up at Sam’s friend, through misty eyes.

“... Yeah, he is. I’m pretty sure he’s in love with her. He’s always making those dopey goo-goo eyes when she’s around.”

That was the final blow. Nothing good could possibly come from her shoving her way back into Sam’s life. It would just hurt him even more. All she could offer him was devastation and misery. Sam was better off without her. “He deserves happiness.” All that was left of her was an empty shell. “Will you… tell him for what it’s worth - I’m sorry. And I promise, I won’t bother him ever again.”

He nodded, “I’ll tell him.”

Wyn just nodded in return. 

“Hey… you gonna be okay?”

“Honestly?” Wyn huffed, “Probably not. But… I’ll live.” 


Brady stood at the entrance to the parking lot of the Park Inn. Watching as the old beat-up Civic drove into the night taking Bronwyn Evans far away from Sam Winchester. Azazel was going to be very pleased. They needed to be groomed, and plucked at the right time.

“Bye-bye Snickerdoodle!” He laughed out loud at his own joke. 

The possessed college student then made his way to the popular bar near campus, that never carded. He needed to put the next part of his plan into action. Upon entering, his eyes scanned the crowd. Seeking the perfect sacrificial lamb. Then he saw her. Wavy blonde hair, gorgeous smile, and small beauty mark on her face. 

“Jessica! Pretty lady how you doing?” She looked up and rolled her eyes playfully. 

“What do you want Brady?” Jessica was sitting in a booth with two other students from their hall. Emily and Zach were a new couple, perhaps that would make her more inclined to his suggestion. Splendid .   

“You’re still single right?”

“Smooth. Very smooth. You win over all the girls like that?” Jessica laughed, then took a long sip from her bright colored drink and Brady slide in alongside her.

“Not asking for me! I happen to know a charming eligible gentleman who would be perfect for you!”

“Who?” she played along.

“Sam Winchester!”
“Oh my gosh!” Emily exclaimed, “You guys would be so cute together! Zach wouldn’t they be cute together?”

The guy just shrugged, matchmaking not his forte. 

“Sam Winchester, huh?” Jessica pondered, “He’s smart, nice… not to mention incredibly hot.”

“Say no more,” Brady clapped his hands together once and grinned, “I’ll make the arrangements. Trust me you won’t regret it!” The plan was back on track. All the pieces working together. And these pathetic humans had no idea what was coming.




Wyn felt utterly alone.




The engine roared, as she sped recklessly down the dark lonely highway. She pulled the car over to the side of the dusty road. Tears dangerously blurred her eyes. After opening the car door and slamming it behind her, she screamed into the night. The sound echoed eerily. It was a cry of absolute devastation. She crumpled to the ground, unable to hold herself upright, as all-consuming sobs wracked her form.

The universe had beaten her down. She shivered on the cold road, not particularly caring if a car ran her over. After all what did she have to live for? A father who didn’t even know her, who couldn’t know her anymore? Everyone that held her up, had been ripped away. Stacy, Sam… their baby. 

It was like she could still feel, Thomas, dying inside her. When that thing put It’s hand on her, and -- suddenly, something crept to the forefront of her mind. Her sobs stopped suddenly, and she froze. Something the Demon had said. Not realizing at the time, because she was in such pain. What did It call her?


“My Pale Queen.” That’s what It said…


Sinister intent hid behind the Demon’s words. The title filled her gut with icy dread. But in that moment she made a promise to herself. Something bigger was going on here. And when something came for her again - Wyn would be more than ready. 

The young woman stood, straightening up tall. Her eyes looked to the horizon. She could see a hint of an orange glow appearing in the Eastern sky. 

Well, Wyn thought, What doesn’t kill you… will regret trying.

Chapter Text


If one were to observe the daily life of Bronwyn Evans, one might be inclined to tell her to take a break. Every day of her college career was filled with seemingly unending classes. And each spare moment Wyn had, was spent studying self defense. After swearing she would do whatever she could to protect herself, should the supernatural try to force its way back in her life. 

Of course, Wyn was in rough shape that first semester. She allowed herself to fall into a cycle of self destruction. Drinking at all hours of the day, barely going to class. But her academic advisor had a ‘Come to Jesus’ meeting with her, as he had called it. The middle aged head of the Neuroscience department, pulled her into his office, and laid everything out for Wyn. That she had to turn things around or she would be kicked out of school, and that she was too smart for that. She had the chance that summer to turn things around. 

In order to catch up with her courses, Wyn took the maximum number of credit hours she could squeeze into a semester. Then stayed on campus over breaks, and took classes for each summer and winter session. Both classes for her degree, and extracurricular interests: Folklore & Mythology, Ancient Greek, and any supernatural related subject she could find. But she was unsuccessful in her search for any references to a “Pale Queen” in demonology that she could find. Granted the available books weren’t particularly plentiful. Maybe, the truth would never be known. 

Classmates, that she eventually befriended, often teased her. Comparing her to Hermione Granger when she used the time turner to take as many classes as possible. After three years of working her ass off, she was on schedule to graduate early that December. 

No one knew, but after exams, when there was a week or so before the next round of classes, Wyn would drive to Kansas. To visit her father. A man who no longer lived in reality, who couldn’t give her love, or her need for family. But he was her Dad, and she loved him. The only person left Wyn could give her love to.


Through all of her experiences, Wyn felt accomplished, yet hardened. The past still would pop in her mind and she had to fight off the inevitable depressive episode. She didn’t smile like she used to. And while she wasn’t the same lonely, anxiety filled girl she was in Eagle Point, her social circle was fairly small. The only people she had daily contact with were her three roommates. 

Wyn met Terrance and Tiffany in Greek History sophomore year. Those two were dating by the end of that semester, which was an interesting sight. Terrance, a pre-med student, wanted to be a Pediatrician. But he didn’t really look the part, with his rebellious bad-boy style of sleeve tattoos, motorcycle and dark shaggy hair. Tiffany, wanted to be a kindergarten teacher, and was pretty much the personification of Beth from Little Women : abundantly kind, caring, and she even played piano. Her light brown hair, fell in soft waves framing her caramel brown eyes.

On the surface, they didn’t mix, but Wyn could tell… those two were made for each other. As a matter of fact, a few weeks into the fall semester, Terrance confided in Wyn. He planned on asking Tiffany to marry him on their anniversary. Wyn, obviously, shoved down her own past hurt, and told him she wanted to help anyway she could. They had become quite close, as close as Wyn would allow herself, over the years. 


Now, their other roommate… Well, that roommate wasn’t the easiest person to get along with. Particularly, in late November just before winter graduation, and the day before Terrance and Tiffany’s anniversary. When Wyn was woken up to blaring music coming from the room next to hers. My Chemical Romance playing at full volume. 

Now, she enjoyed a good emo rock band as much as the next angsty college student, but she had her limits. Wyn blindly reached to the floor next to her bed, fumbled until she managed to snag a lone shoe and threw it against the far wall hard. 


The sound of footsteps, the music volume lowering, then the opening sound of her door revealed her rather self-absorbed, puckishly rogue housemate. She stood leaning against the doorframe wearing pajama pants and a sports bra, her blonde pixie hair sticking out at odd ends. Hip popped to the side, arms crossed, and a satisfied smirk saying it was my goal to ruin your morning .

“Goodness me, Princess. Someone’s in a pissy mood,” she flipped the lights on just to put salt in the wound.

Wyn squeezes her eyes shut, and let out an exasperated breath, her lips buzzing on the release. Choosing not to acknowledge the undesirable nickname, “Bite me. My head’s killing me.”


“More like still. It’s like a constant ache with the occasional ice pick stabbing my brain just for fun,” Wyn grabbed the bottle of painkillers from her bedside table and downed three pills with a big gulp of water.

“Maybe you’ve got a brain tumor.”

A perfect bitch face accompanied Wyn’s middle finger, “Shut up Meg.”

The blonde smirked again, and turned on her heel bounding downstairs, where Wyn could hear their roommates up and bustling in the kitchen. 

Meg Masters was… a challenging friend to have. 

Somehow she had managed to cling on to her friendship with Wyn since their freshman year. Not exactly a good influence, but she was loyal. There was an incident the spring they met. Wyn got passed out drunk at a party, wallowing in her own self-pity. Apparently, some frat douche tried something with her, but Meg decorated the sidewalk with his face. Took three guys to pull her off him. 

Despite Meg’s lack of tact, and absolutely no manners to speak of, she had kept an eye on Wyn. Especially, during a time she needed it most. 

That being said Meg was kind of a bitch.


“Wyn you’re looking a little green. You alright?” Terrence grimaced, as Wyn entered the kitchen, now dressed and ready for the day. Meg and Tiffany sat at the table in the breakfast nook.

Wyn simply pointed to her head, then took the offered cup of black coffee he held out and leaned against the counter, taking deep slow sips. A contented sigh escaped her lips at the warm sensation in her throat. 

“Rough,” he pulled out another mug and poured himself a drink, “What’s your day look like?”

“I think I’m gonna go to the health center right now. My headaches aren’t getting any better. After, I got class until 1. Chem Lab at 2:30pm. Then I’ll probably study at the library until my Tae Kwon Do class.”

“You sure you’re up for all that?”

“Won’t know until I try,” Wyn chugged the remainder of the hot coffee, burning down her throat.

“Oh, do you still have time to pick up… ya know?” The young man spoke under his breath, trying to be inconspicuous.

“Don’t worry. I’m gonna before Chem. I can meet you after your last class,” Wyn winked at him. He grinned bashfully, and they both peered fondly across to Tiffany doing her best to ignore Meg. Her nose buried deeply in her book. Without the others noticing, he passed her his ID and credit card, so she wouldn’t have any trouble at the jewelry store. “Whelp, I’m out. Bye peeps!”

Tiffany looked up from her book, “Wait, Wyn! We’re having a movie night tonight, you should join us.” 

“Um… maybe. If I’m feeling any better. What movie?”

The Notebook !” 

“Ehh,” Wyn groaned, “I’ll think about it,” and then promptly left leaving the three other students in the kitchen.

“Is Wyn okay? She seems really…” Tiffany searched for the words.

“All work and no play?” Meg supplied.

“That time of the month?” Terrance chuckled in pure guy fashion, and received a sharp smack on the back of the head from his girl, “What?! What’d I say?”

Meg rolled her eyes and spoke up, “Nah, Wyn just hates romantic crap.”

“What? How could anyone not like The Notebook ?” Tiffany asked.

Meg lifted her brow. “She never told you about what happened?”

The two shook their heads simultaneously. “You’re the one who’s been her roommate since freshman year,” Terrance said. 

“Yeah, she’s always been really private.”

“That’s ‘cause ‘Perfect Princess’ wasn’t always so perfect. Spring semester freshman year, she had a bit of a drinking problem.”

“No way! Wyn? Bronwyn-Freakin-Gold-Star-Student-Evans?” Terrance asked befuddled.

 “Yup. One night, Wyn got super weepy drunk. Told me some craaazy shit. Long story short... just before she turned nineteen, her Aunt went nuts and locked her in their basement for months.”

The couples jaws dropped appropriately. 

“Yeah! I know, but it gets worse. Seems before her boyfriend blew town, he knocked her up. But she miscarried ‘cause of the trauma or whatever. Princess never really moved on. I think she only had a single one-night stand like two years ago or something. Since then, she’s been totally anti-social and anti-dating.”

“Fuck…” Terrance stood silent, staring at the front door where she had exited just moments before.

“That’s terrible,” Tiffany’s eyes big. “I can’t believe she’s been through so much. Would she be okay with you telling us this? All that personal stuff?”

Meg shrugged, “Secrets, secrets are no fun, unless you share with everyone.”

Tiffany shook her head and stood up in a huff then marched straight for upstairs. Grumbling she needed to get ready for the day. Terrance regarded Meg with a look. 

“Anyone ever tell you you’re kind of a bitch?”

“Everyday,” Meg grinned.




“Miss Evans?” A doctor peeked his head in the door, before entering with a med student by his side. Must’ve been there to observe.

“Yeah, that’s me,” Wyn managed a weak grin sitting on the patient table.

“I’m Dr. Wells, this is Nicole she’ll be shadowing me today. I understand you’re here for some bad headaches, huh?” he extended his hand for her to shake. 

“Hi! Yes, I--” Wyn took the man’s hand about to list off her symptoms, but was instantly hit by a hot stabbing pain behind her eyes. Triggered, her body tensed as she doubled over crying out. All now familiar symptoms of her recent headaches… until her vision changed. Suddenly, the image of the doctor blurred, and a strange scene appeared in her mind and she fell into the vision. 


Dr. Well’s stood next to a young female student. Nicole. They were alone in his office. The girl stood back pressed against a bookcase. He quickly locked the door. Horrified, Wyn saw the doctor slowly begin to lower his hand down the student’s pants, fondling her. The girl tried to push him away, but he just pressed his body hard against hers, and whispered in her ear. “Shhh…” he soothed his victim, “It’s alright. Don’t worry, it’s okay…”


When Wyn’s vision returned to normal, she was confused and filled with a foreign predatory feeling. Above her she saw the ceiling, and she felt the cold tile floor beneath her. Dr. Well’s shined a light into her eyes above her, and she saw Nicole looking down at her as well. 

“Bronwyn? Can you hear me?”

The young woman overwhelmed with nausea, tried to sit up, but the pain radiating through her skull made her fall back, “What happened?” 

“At first I thought you might have been having a seizure. You tensed up, screamed, and fell down onto the floor. Are you experiencing double vision?”

“N-No, I don’t… God it hurts,” she brought her hands to shield her eyes from the light. 

Dr. Wells and the med student helped her back onto the patient table. 

“Was this a typical episode for what you've been experiencing?”

“Not.. really,” she stumbled through, still reeling trying to ground herself, “The pain yes definitely. But this time, it was like my sight went away, and I’ve never collapsed like that before.” And I certainly haven’t hallucinated yet.

“Pupil dilation is atypical for typical migraines. I’m going to order a CT scan, to eliminate the possibility of a foreign object or tumor pressing on the optical nerve,” the doctors expression was puzzled, as he turned to the student, Nicole, instructing her on his next move.

Wyn watched their interaction, but was lost in her mind. What the hell just happened?


After the incident at the health care center, the doctor advised her to take the rest of the day off. She had explained her daily schedule, and after not seeing anything odd on her scans, the staff was perplexed as to the reason. A feeling of dread remained in her gut, but she conceded, and emailed her professors that she was unwell. Seeing how she never skipped class anymore, she knew it wouldn’t be an issue.

Good thing, since classes were the last thing on Wyn’s mind. Upon leaving the health center she bumped into a student entering, and she saw flashes of that same student taking an exam, an answer sheet hidden in their lap. Then, in the middle of the main avenue on campus, one of the fraternity brothers she partied with freshman year, picked her up in a massive friendly hug. And the image of him kissing his roommate on a single bed swam before her. 

It continued to happen again and again. By the time she managed to stumble out of the jewelry store after she picked up Terrance’s ring, Wyn was quite certain she was going crazy. There were spots in her field of vision and tears pooled in the corners of her eyes. With shaky hands the young woman pulled her phone from her pocket, and texted the only person she could trust. Meg.


W to M: 911 meet me at that coffee place in the student center. 

M to W: cya in 5



“I think I’m losing my mind.” Wyn’s hands shook around her to-go cup of hot tea.

“What’s up?” Meg asked looking concerned, placing her bag on the floor next to her.

“I keep… seeing things.”

“Seeing things?”

“In my head. When I touch people, I don’t know, I--- could swear I can see into their minds. Like, thoughts, or memories or I don’t know, but I can’t control it.”

“Okay, breathe. Maybe you’re just having like weird hallucinations from your headaches. What did the health center say?”

“Nothing helpful. They did a CT scan, but it was normal I saw the scan myself.” Wyn frantically ran her hand through her hair.

“Look, don’t freak out. You’re probably just pushing yourself too hard. It’s the end of the semester, super stressful time. Tell you what,” Meg put her hand on Wyn’s and she was relieved nothing happened, “Tonight, you, me and Tiffany. We have a girls night, have ice cream, do facials, the whole nine yards. Tiff and Terrance’s date isn’t until tomorrow, so it’ll be perfect.”

“I just... can’t shake how real it feels. When I see these visions or whatever, it’s like I’m seeing it through their eyes. I even… I feel what they feel.”

“... Okay, I’m intrigued?”

“Today at the health center, when I shook the doctors hand I saw him… touching a med student. And at the store earlier, when the teller handed me back the credit card, I could see her stealing from the cash register late at night. That’s just two visions. It’s been happening all day…”

Meg beheld her with an odd expression. Unfamiliar to her face. Then, “Yeah, you definitely need a break. I’m gonna head back home, you wanna come with?” 

The young woman simply shook her head, explaining she had plans to meet up with Terrance after his final class. Meg bid her farewell, telling her to make sure she hydrated and take it easy until going home. Wyn nodded her head still pounding. 

What the hell was she going to do? The young girl’s brain wracked, trying to find some explanation for what was happening to her. It couldn’t be hallucinations. They changed too dramatically, and she would only see the people she was touching. Maybe… she thought of what the Winchesters had managed to teach her before it all went to Hell. 

There were things in this world that couldn’t be explained. And not just monsters and spirits. John had mentioned some hunters with psychic abilities. Some active, some retired. Wyn looked down at her palms. With her past, it wouldn’t be the craziest idea. She closed her eyes and exhaled through a bought of pain. 

Taking her time, she began walking to the building where Terrance had his final class of the day. She knew he would be nervous as hell, since he’d have the engagement ring in hand. His decision to ask Tiffany to marry him, all the more real. A smile crossed her face at the thought of Terrance all nervous and flustered with Tiff looking at him with curiosity, completely unsuspecting his intentions.

She sat on a bench in front of his building, and waited. Absentmindedly, she fingered the charm on her necklace. The corded leather was worn slightly from over the years, but the pearl and silver charm remained pristine. Wyn had looked up what the symbol meant years ago. It was an old Celtic symbol for protection of a loved one. Two lines crossed, with two hands clasping a heart with a crown etched on top. It was actually a merging of two symbols: the Ailm symbol and the Claddagh ring. The origin she traced to a Wicca who made it for the woman he loved, a few centuries prior. 

Wyn didn’t cry about it anymore, but the pain in her heart she knew would never go away. Sam

“Hey Wyn!” Terrance hollered out, and her gaze lifted to see him jogging towards her in the dimly lit night. “Didja get it?”

“Done and done,” she rose to her feet, and pulled out the credit card, ID, and ring box. When he reached to take them from her, his fingers brushed her skin. 

“AHH!” she cried out in pain, her now empty hands clutched her head. Barely aware of the arms of her friend holding her upright, Wyn doubled over, as her sight faded into another vision. 


A frozen pond. White snow fell gently onto the icy surface. Tiffany and Terrance bundled in warm jackets, scarves and hats, stood together on the ice. Tiffany’s expression nervous, but focused. Terrance uttering words of encouragement, as he showed her how to position her skates. The young man held her hands and she wobbled. He skated backwards holding her and helping keep balance. 

“You got it, just gently push your feet slightly back and to the side. There you go!”

Tiffany smiled shakily as she moved slowly, then her eyes went wide. Her body fell forward. Terrance moved to keep her standing, but he went down too. He hit the ice first and broke Tiffany’s fall. 

“Oh God, I’m so sorry, are you okay?” She asked concerned.

Tiffany scrambled her body around, and leaned over Terrance who was flat on the ice on his back. He just laughed, as she examined him with worried eyes. A warmth blossomed in his chest, and Wyn became overwhelmed by the euphoric emotion she hadn’t felt in years. Love. Adoration. Pure devotion.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” she asked, her gloved hands rubbing at her cheeks.

“You’re so beautiful.”

She blushed, her cheeks growing scarlet in addition to the bite of the cold air. “Stop it,” she tucked a lock of hair behind her ear.

“Never,” he grinned broadly, “I love you.”

“I love you, too!” Tiffany’s smile was brighter than the morning sun. The warmth of her love wrapped him up and surrounded him. When she brought her lips to his, their kiss sent him soaring. Her soft sweet lips, against his chapped ones. He had never been so happy. Wyn could feel everything.


“WYN! Hey, can you hear me?!”

Wyn looked up startled, still feeling emphatically raw, but… good. The vision melted away, and she just saw Terrance’s eyes wide and confused.

“What the hell was that? You okay?”

Wyn threw her arms around Terrance and wrapped him in a tight hug, “You’re a wonderful person you know that?” After all the crappy shit she’d been seeing all day, this was like a gift from above. 

“Uhh,” he returned the hug, “Thanks? You- You’re hugging me. You never hug people! Maybe we should--”

“You and Tiffany are going to be so happy.” She said with such assurity, he blinked. He pulled back, and looked into her eyes, searching for any reason for medical emergency that would be causing her to act so out of character. 

“Wyn, I…” his mouth opened and closed. And finally broke into a conceding grin, “Thank you. I’m glad we’re friends.”

“Awww, you like me. You really like me!” she teased, suddenly feeling much better.

“Alright, alright, come on. Let’s get you pumped full of painkillers and in bed,” they turned to start making their way home. The sidewalk leading off campus. 

“No can do. I’m being roped into a girl’s night.” 

“Ah, well I’m sure Tiff would tuck you in bed herself, if you’re feeling bad enough.”

“Yeah, she probably would,” Wyn bumped his shoulder playfully. “You don’t need to be nervous, by the way. She’s gonna say yes.”

“You think?” He tucked the ring box safely in his coat pocket. 

“Hundred bucks says she cries.”

Obviously, Wyn had a lot to consider. If she was psychic, she had no idea what her future would entail. And she would need help. She sighed, knowing what she had to do. It was time to track down John Winchester. But for now, she was going to help someone who deserved happiness.




“Meg, hey!” Tiffany stood in the doorway of Bronwyn’s closet. “Wyn said I could raid her closet for mine and Terr’s date. Which one do you think?” The sweet girl held up two nearly identical dresses with long sleeves and a v-neck. one white, one black.

“The white one definitely.”

“Yeah?” Tiffany laid the black dress down the bed, and stripped down to her underwear. Then, pulled the white dress over her form. She smiled and turned to the mirror, “I think you’re right,” her gaze returned to her housemate. “Thank you, by the way, for insisting tonight be a girl’s night. I feel like we haven’t gotten to spend much quality time together this year. After all,” she put the black dress back in the closet, “we don’t have much time left together.”

“No, I guess we don’t,” Meg tilted her head, and flicked her wrist. 

In an instant, the human girl was pinned to the ceiling. Her eyes filled with bewildered terror, “Meg?!” Then she screamed when an invisible line cut into her abdomen, and blood began to drip into the blonde’s outstretched hands. Meg’s eyes shifted to their natural black, and with a blink ignited the room in a supernatural blaze. The demon chuckled at the suffering of her helpless victim.

Tiffany whimpered in pain, unable to move, fighting for breath. The fire creeping towards her. Meg whispered the incantation she knew so well, eyes looking down into the pool of blood in her hands.

“Father… it’s time. The Pale Queen’s abilities have presented.”


“It has been my honor.”


“Already done. I’ll come meet you,” and released the blood cupped in her hands. The demon grinned ear to ear, reveling in the pain above her, and the blistering heat destroying the room around them. The deliciously sick smell of burning flesh filled her nostrils, as she brought her fingers to her lips, and licked the sweet innocent blood from her hands. She stepped close to the window without touching the flames, and could see a crowd already gathered on the street, two familiar faces front and center. From the ceiling, the human girl screamed as her body was destroyed by the fire.

“See you around Princess …”

Then, in the blink of an eye she was gone. 




Terrance and Wyn weren’t worried when they heard sirens. A common occurrence in a college town. But when they saw the blaze from the end of the street, they exchanged looks of nervous dread and picked up the pace. Moving quickly down the street, until their home came into view.

“Oh God…” Terrance uttered. Smoke came through the windows and an intense blaze lit up the room next to the upper corner room. They ran to the front yard, neighbors already crowded in the streets. 

“That’s-- that’s my room…” Wyn’s heart filled with icy fear, accompanied by an eerie deja vu. Then there was a scream from the house.

“TIFFANY!” Terrance screamed out, and they both made a move for the front door, but were held back by onlookers. The desperate boy punched the neighbor restraining him and rushed into the house.


The sound of blood pumping was all that filled her ears. All she could do was watch in horror as her friend raced into danger, unable to do anything to stop it. Her eyes were glued to her window, to the flames where a shadowy figure stood looking out her window. A cold chill shot through her veins despite the intense heat. As she stared back in abject terror, she could swear there was something familiar about the figure. Then it vanished. Leaving behind the remains of the life she had worked so hard to rebuild. 

It’s my fault. All my fault. They’re… gone, because of me. 

A cracking sound broke the silence in her little bubble. Without any further warning, the floor fell out from the upstairs, spreading the fire to the lower level. Wyn screamed out, and collapsed to the ground in shock. Despite her preparing for the worst, making herself strong, it wasn’t enough. Evil still found her. 

Evil would always find her.




The sirens no longer sounded, but red and white lights lit up the perfectly normal street. Steam lifted from the burning ashes of the home. It was a cold night, but Wyn barely felt it as she sat in the back of an ambulance wrapped in a trauma blanket. Firefighters were talking about how weird the fire behaved. That is spread much faster than normal. ‘Possible Arson’ was tossed around, but no one had any answers. 

And they wouldn’t find any. Wyn knew deep down that what caused the fire wasn’t of this world. A preternatural force haunting her that wouldn’t stop until it got what it wanted. She just had no one idea what that was. 

Two black body bags were lifted into the coroner's truck, causing her heart to fall. They had been able to identify Tiffany and Terrance’s bodies. Meg was still missing. She just prayed to God, Meg got distracted on the way home and stopped off at a friends or maybe the store to pick up wine. Hopefully, she was okay.

For the tenth time in half an hour, Wyn’s phone vibrated. The caller id showing a Kansas area code. Just leave a message damnit! She flipped the phone open, and answered in a defeated monotone.

“Look now is really not a good time, so whatever you’re selling--”

Miss Evans it’s Dr. Nora Sahakin from Kansas State Mental Hospital… ” 

Wyn blinked processing the words on the other line. “Doctor… Dr. Sahakin of course, look, can I call you back?”

I’m afraid it’s rather urgent. I’m calling about your father.

“...What about my father?”

Chapter Text

Thomas Evans lay in his hospital bed the stillest Wyn had ever seen her father, without having to be sedated. Previous good visits usually included him mumbling, eyes not focused on the people around him. Bad visits were always short. When he became hysterical screaming at the demons to leave his family alone, staff would have to sedate him and strap him to his bed for his own safety.

“Hey Daddy…” She leaned close to kiss his forehead, but pulled back at the last second. 

From the time Wyn entered the hospital to the second she sat down, she was very careful. Not once did she touch anyone. She was able to pass it off as being sick. Thankfully the headaches were nearly gone, but she still couldn’t control what happened if she touched someone. Despite the urge to reach out for her father, she feared what she might see.

So, there she sat wringing her hands on the side of the bed.

“Sorry it took me so long. It’s been rough past few days.” Tiff and Terrance dead, murdered by the demon, and Meg still missing. The police hadn’t found a single trace of her. A part of her hoped Meg was dead, rather than the alternative of the demon torturing her because of their friendship. But there was a sliver of hope she clung to that she would see her friend again someday.

“The Doctors said they aren’t sure why you’re…” Wyn couldn't finish out loud. Dying. She swallowed, “But they said you aren’t feeling any pain. Though they might just be saying that.” 

Her heart ached. After all the horrible evil that had consumed her loved ones, she honestly wasn’t sure how much more she could take. The universe could cut it out any day now. 

Thomas took a raddled breath. Wyn grieved for all that he would miss. After everything, she wouldn’t have her father there anymore. So lost she was in her thoughts, that she did not see her father’s eyes fly open wide. His urgent gaze searched around, then looked up into her radiant face. He grabbed her hands shocking his daughter. 

“Daddy?” When their eyes locked, Wyn knew that this was the part of her father that hadn’t seen light in years. Then he spoke: as if the very balance of the universe depended on his words, “Bronwyn… Evil cannot corrupt pure love. Your soul… the twin soul is key.” Through the touch with her father, she fell into a vision of what he saw. What he saw that fateful night.


It was his final gift to her. She saw it all, and felt. Fire. Heat. The smell. Wyn choked on the stench of burning flesh and sulfur.

Yellow. Yellow eyes looking down into the crib, the room ablaze. A woman screaming for her child, frozen in fear on the ceiling. A father rushing in trying to stop it, as if he had the power to. Thomas froze in the doorway at the image of his innocent beloved wife burning alive, then his eyes widen with recognition seeing the dark figure standing over his daughter’s crib, along with the familiar sulfuric smell. 

“Y-You -- NO! You said no one would get hurt!”

The dark figure smirked with malice before disappearing from the tragic scene. The father grabbed the screaming child, after seeing the evil phantom fade from view. The two fled for their lives. 

“My fault, all my fault…” Thomas uttered through tears, rocking his infant daughter in his arms.

A demon with Yellow Eyes had killed her mother... And her father knew why.  


The room felt cold from the contrast of the flames from her vision, as she returned to the physical world. Wyn stared down in shock, to see her father’s body taut like a bowstring. Her grip tightened on his hands in a panic. 

She had to hold him there with her. 

Then, Thomas Evans let out a long breath and stilled once more. Finally, his eyes closing gently in an eternal sleep. The machine next to him sounding out a single long tone.

The young woman gasped out as her father's grip went limp, “Dad?” She shook him by the shoulder, “No! No no Daddy! Open your eyes!” Not now. Not after what she had just seen. She wasn’t ready.





Icy grass crunched beneath the thick boot heels on Wyn’s feet. The old family burial plot was one of the only elements left from the Evans Family legacy. The double gravestone marker for her parents stood stark in comparison to the plain cold ground. Fresh upturned earth, from the recent burial of her father’s ashes, stood out like his final words. The words that still haunted her.

Evil cannot corrupt pure love… the twin soul is key.

Next to them, nestled in the ground stood a marker for Stacy‘s urn. Grass had grown back showing the healing of her own loss. Then on the other side of her parents she had buried little Tommy. 

Here they all were. All that remained of the Evan’s name was her. Her and her plot of dead family. Wyn let out a gentle exhale, kneeled and placed her hand to her sons name. 

Thomas Evan Winchester -  November 29, 2002

"Hey there, baby boy."

Whenever thoughts of her son crossed her mind, he was always “Tommy”. She wasn't quite sure why, but it always made her smile. Dean probably would’ve given him the nickname anyway given the opportunity. 

The buzz of her cell phone, signalling a missed call, pulled her from her private moment. That would be the utility worker arriving for their appointment. No time for her to wallow anymore. 

“Wish me luck,” Wyn spoke aloud to the gravestones. She had been avoiding this, but since the paperwork had been filed, it was official. She was the sole owner to the Evans Estate. Which included the farm house, the entire property that stretched over several acres, and the financial heap her mother had inherited. At least she wouldn’t have to worry about money for a while. 


After a few tedious meetings with the banker who handled all the affairs of the family since Wyn was born, they had set up a trust to pay for all continuing expenses and taxes until she figured out what to do with it. Probably sell off most of it, and keep a couple acres with the house. She began the short walk back from the graveyard to the homestead. It was the end of a long week of dealing and she wanted very much to sleep for the next month.

When she turned the corner, a portly middle aged man, wearing overalls and a thick work coat stepped out of a clunky pick up truck parked in her gravel driveway. The man waved as she continued toward him, rosy cheeks visibly stood out on his friendly face. 

Wyn greeted him professionally. Thick gloves allowed her to shake the man's hand without repercussion. His name was George. They exchanged pleasantries, then he went off to turn on the main gas line and water pump to the home. The man worked diligently, while Wyn made herself busy going through the moving boxes in the living room. 

It was slim decor for the time being. Minimal furniture left behind from the beginning that had been covered in sheets until that morning, stood starkly in otherwise empty rooms. Boxes that had been delivered earlier that day lined the hallway, and entryways to the kitchen/dining room and living room. 

The plentiful space in the living room delighted Wyn secretly. She already had plans of lining the walls with bookshelves. However, she would need to clean the whole place from top to bottom before making it a home. There was some minor cosmetic work that needed to be done around the house as a result of years of minimal upkeep. After a while, George approached her sifting through boxes in the front hall, informing her his work was complete. 

The man handed her the invoice to look over and sign. As she examined the paper carefully, the worker cleared his throat and asked with a hesitant grin, “So… is it true what they say about this place?”

“Depends. What do they say?” She signed the form and handed it and his pen back.

He scoffed, “Well, that it’s haunted of course!”

Wyn shrugged, eyes rolling subtly, “Couldn’t tell ya. Haven’t lived here in over twenty years. First night since I was a baby.”

“Right. Well, local kids have been known to try and break in. Not looking for trouble mind ya. Ya know how kids are, just stupid dares, trying to see a ghost and all that. But you still might wanna look into a home security system. ‘Specially with you out here by yourself, Miss.”

“That’s not a bad idea, thank you,” she refrained from telling him she could take care of herself. He seemed like a decent enough guy, and probably didn’t mean any offense. She held open the front door and followed him to his truck into the crisp midday air.

“Alright, then Miss Evans. The pump to the well’s turned on. I’ll send one of my team out in the next day or two to make sure the pipes are behavin’ themselves. Best to have em inspected after the first big freeze just to be sure of no cracks and such. Gas tank looks in fine shape. Been maintained pretty good. Here’s my card,” he held out the business card, dirt under his fingernails prominent, “Just give me a holler if there’s any issues.”

“Thank you, I will.”

“Have a nice day, and welcome home!” The nice man tipped the brim of his trucker hat, got into his truck and pulled away. Finally, Wyn turned back to the house. The front windows stared out a her, calling her back to her childhood origins. 

“Welcome Home indeed.”


The rest of the day was a dizzying blur of cardboard boxes, bubble wrap, and aggressive cleaning. After a few hours of organizing her new/old home, Wyn’s body was crying for sustenance. There hadn’t been an opportunity to fully stock the fridge. All she had at the moment was some bare necessities in the kitchen cabinets. Happily, she recalled a Chinese take out menu that had been wedged into the side of her mailbox and promptly placed a large order. Hopefully it would keep enough for leftover breakfast in the morning. 

Wyn continued to work until well after it grew dark. After the long week, sleep was calling her, and she gratefully made her way up to her room with her newly set up bed. Silently, she thanked herself for caving and paying the moving guys to set it up for her, and changed into her long drawstring sleep pants with the Gryffindor House crest on the side and and fitted zip-up hoodie. Then, remembering she recovered her recently purchased weapon, she tucked her shotgun filled with salt rounds under the bed.

After all... a gal couldn't be too careful out here. Especially with evil supernatural forces that may or may not be following her. Then, all snuggled up she crawled contentedly under the sheets. Mentally she prepared herself for the following day. Would she really be able to just move on with her life? What the hell was she going to do? These thoughts buzzed in her mind before she drifted into a light sleep.


A scream shattered the peaceful dream Wyn was having.

The young woman sat up sharply, and reached for the sawed off shotgun. A woman’s scream had woken her. Now wide awake and alert, she crept towards the door on socked feet and gun raised. Years of research and training kicked in. 

The instant, and noticeable, drop in temperature told her, most likely, there was a spirit. So, she thought she was prepared when she looked into the empty room next to hers. Utter terror filled her, though, when she realized nothing could have prepared her for this. 

A bright blaze made her eyes squint, her hand flying up to block the light. Then she looked past the barrel of the gun, and saw the room was still empty except for a figure pinned to the ceiling, flames spread out without burning.

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Wyn knew what she was seeing. After all she had already seen this scene. But she could not stop the complete paralyzing fear that filled her. Her scream was unearthly and tore at her vocal chords. The young woman turned and ran. 

No --- It can’t be!

Wyn bolted down the stairs, her gun landing hard at the bottom. When she reached the door, she flung it open throwing herself out of the home not feeling the bitter cold. Breath coming in deep gasps and strangled cries. She turned making sure the specter hadn’t followed her, and didn’t see the certain someone standing in the front yard. Someone she ran right into. Another frightened yell escaped her as she felt strange hands grab her, but then she recognized the leather-jacket wearing figure. 

“Bronwyn! Are you alright?? What happened?!”

“Mr. Winchester?”




Wyn sat across from John Winchester in a booth in a 24 hour diner just down the road. The waitress had given them an odd look the moment they stepped inside. She couldn’t blame her. A man of John’s age looking rough, obviously not having slept in a while, with a young woman with no shoes, messy hair, wearing pajamas and said man’s jacket that was far too large for her frame. John had managed to disarm the waitresses concerns with his patent Winchester charm, requesting two coffees. 

Wyn clutched the jacket around her, and tucked her socked feet underneath her body trying to warm up. She was still shaking from the shock. The last thing she expected was to see any Winchester again, and low and behold, here came John out of nowhere.

“Take a breath and tell me what you saw.”

She nibbled her lower lip thoughtfully. For so long, she hadn’t spoken out loud about this kind of stuff. Actually … it occurred to her, John was the first person she would be able to talk to without fear of repercussion since she was left alone in Eagle Point. 

“It was— I think it was my Mom. I mean it must have been. I woke up ‘cause of the screaming. I grabbed my gun and ran in, and she was just there… burning. I panicked, I couldn’t shoot -- I didn’t know what to do…”

“So you ran.”

She shrugged. “The first thing that popped into my head. I just don’t know why she’s still here. Her spirit, I mean. Aunt Stacy told me there wasn’t even enough left to warrant a casket. I -- wait... What were you doing there? How did you know I needed help?”

“I didn’t. I followed you from the hospital, and kept an eye on the place. Heard you screaming and hauled ass to help.”

“You’ve been following me??”

“Just the past few days,” he clarified as if that would put her concerns to rest, “I’ve been trying to track you down for a couple months now. I managed to find out where you went to school, after asking around Eagle Point.” She didn’t bother to say that she had told Sam and Dean multiple times where she planned to go to school.

“You… went back to Eagle Point?” Wyn swallowed, trying to push down emotions from bubbling up. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I did. I…” John took a long sip of his coffee. Then looked her straight in the eye, “I’m sorry to hear about Stacy. She was a good woman.”

“Yeah, she was,” Wyn looked down blinking rapidly.

“And… I’m sorry, I... sorta ‘stumbled’ across a police report,” he cleared his throat, “about what happened. To you.” Her blue eyes went wide and fearful. Panic began to rise in her chest, and breathed tightly. “I know. About the miscarriage.”

Wyn’s jaw clenched, and lower lip wobbled. Tears made every effort to fall, but she’d be damned if she was going to cry in front of John Winchester. 

“I — I named him Tommy. Thomas Winchester.”

“After your Dad,” John smiled forlornly. She nodded.

“I buried his and Stacy’s ashes in the burial plot at the edge of the property. It’s where… my parents... just felt right to have him with family.” John nodded stoically at her words, letting her continue. “Does Sam know?” her voice barely a whisper. She didn’t trust herself not to break down to inquire more than that.

“No. He doesn’t. And he won’t hear it from me. That’s up to you.”

“...You won’t tell him?”

John shook his head, “I promise.” Tension released from her body, as she sighed in relief.

“He can’t know. Ever. He’d hate me more than he already does.” She knew without a doubt that if Sam were to know the truth it would completely destroy him.

“Bronwyn, darlin’. That’s not -- whatever happened, it’s not your fault, you know that right?” John was obviously uncomfortable and unfamiliar in the act of sharing feelings. Or just out of practice.

Quickly, she changed the subject, “So why are you following me? Just come to kick me while I’m down?”

“I’m here to help. Maybe we can help each other.”


“First things first, tell me everything that happened starting with the night Sam took off. Whole story, warts and all.”

And she did. From the moment she and Sam agreed to run away, to being held captive, to losing her friends at school, and finally, what she learned from her father’s memory. She no longer needed to keep her secrets to herself. Now she had someone who knew what they were doing. For the first time in years, she spoke the full truth. Unloading the burden she had carried for so long, a burden she no longer had to carry alone.




Wyn stared up at her family home with trepidation still in her sleep clothes and John’s jacket. She was exhausted. Physically and mentally. John stood at her side which should have made her feel better, but all she could think of was the task at hand. With his expertise, they had created a fairly simple plan of action. 

“Are you sure it has to be me?”

“I think so Bronwyn,” his voice low, “If she’s a death echo like I think she is, only someone with a deep connection can wake her from her loop.”

“But she doesn’t even know me!”

“You’re her daughter. Trust me. There’s no one better than you.” 

It wasn’t like there was any better option at this point. Honestly, she had no idea if she could do this. John escorted her into the house, the upstairs hall light still on. The young woman shook with nervousness and fear. It was almost too soon when they reached the room that held the spectre earlier that night, and she froze the door still closed before her. She peered into John’s strong gaze. He nodded.

With great care Wyn extended her arm and her hand clutched the knob, and instantly felt the metal turn icy cold. Their breath fogged the air. 

“Bronwyn, it’s time.”

Determined, she opened the door. Then in the middle of the room she saw her mother. Wearing the same long sleeve plaid night  clothes from the only family Christmas photo they ever took. Her spirit hazy and glitchy. 

What are you doing in my house?!” Her mother’s spirit looked afraid, seeing something Wyn and John couldn’t before rushing forward, “ Don’t touch my baby--” then she was pinned against the wall. Her death replaying as it happened nearly twenty two years ago. Step by step, Wyn moved toward the center of the room, and peered up at the terrified look on her mother’s face above her. She saw a thick red line bloom up on spirits abdomen, and screams filled the air as the woman burst into flames.

“Mom! Momma it’s me, Bronwyn. I know you’re confused, but I need you to listen to me.” The figure flickered, then slowly the fire began to ebb. The screaming stopped. Wyn stepped closer, and her mother’s spirit softened still glowing bright.

“It’s okay Mom, I’m here.” The fire was gone, and in a blink of an eye, her mother’s spirit reappeared standing in front of her a look of lost confusion painting her expression.


“Keep talking its working,” John’s words of encouragement spurred her on. 

“Yes! Mom. It’s me!”

The ghostly figure now a perfect reflection of who she was in life. Wyn’s heart pounded and a sad smile stretched her face. Their eyes locked and she saw what Stacy meant every time she said how beautiful her mom was. Her mother reached out and Wyn felt the cool empty space as ghostly fingers touched her cheek. 

“My girl. My beautiful baby girl… there was… someone -- someone trying to hurt you…” She could see the memories try and surface. Her mom struggled to make sense, “did… did I stop it?”

“You saved me. Daddy got me out of the fire… You sacrificed yourself for me.” Her heart pounded. 

“I saved you... Thomas protected you.”

She couldn’t counter the words, just nodded. “It’s okay Mom, I’m safe. You don’t need to stay here suffering. You need to move on.”

“I can’t leave my little Winny alone…”

Tears poured down her face. The thought of having her mother, even in spirit… “I’ll be alright. I promise. I can take care of myself.” Wyn prayed she sounded more convincing than she felt. 

“I love you, so much baby girl.”

Tears fell from her eyes, despite fighting to hold them back, “I love you. And I miss you so damn much! But I’ll be okay.” 

Liddy Evans smiled brightly. A light emanating from the center of her trapped spirit. Her form faded into pure white light, and ascended gently above them. Once the light was gone, Wyn knew after all this time, her mother was finally at peace. Her body felt suddenly weak. John caught her before she hit the floor.

Wyn shook in silent shock. While John Winchester held her, offering his silent protection for as long as she required. They stayed like that for Wyn didn’t know how long. For the first time in many years, she allowed herself to be comforted by another. despite everything, she knew at that very moment she was safe. Eventually, the soft morning light permeated the room, signalling the end of that very long night.

With the breaking of the dawn Wyn sighed softly with the sudden, inexplicable knowledge that her parents were together at long last in Heaven.

“What do we now?” she asked. 

“Now,” John pulled back to look Wyn in the eyes, “we take care of you. Get dressed in some warmer clothes. I’ve got someone you need to meet.”




It was less than an hours drive to their destination. Wyn had a pretty good idea why John had taken her to a psychic’s home, but she couldn’t begin to guess why they had barged in when clearly no one was home. There had been a very vague and coded phone call on the drive over between John and the individual she was intended to meet, but beyond that she was in the dark. He sat in silence waiting for this woman, and all she could do was wait too. 

Then the bell over the shop door rang, and the sound of a woman came from the hallway. 

“That boy, has such powerful abilities. How he couldn't sense his own father, I have no idea.”

Wyn looked surprised to John. The psychic turned the corner giving John Winchester a very un-amused look. 

“You really think Mary’s spirit saved the boys?” 

“I do,” the woman said through pursed lips. Wyn surveyed the psychic, with her tight curly, kinky hair, round face, and warm brown complexion.

“Sam was here? And -- he’s hunting again?” Wyn asked surprised and nervous.

“Yes,” the woman gazed at her with a knowing look. A look that Wyn figured she should get used to. The elder psychic returned her gaze to John to explain further. 

He sighed, “About the same time as the fire at your place in Washington, Sam…” he struggled. Not wanting to say the words. 

“Sam’s girlfriend was killed,” the psychic woman chimed in impatiently, “In a fire. Not unlike the fire that took your friends honey.” 

Wyn’s heart skipped at the news, trying hard not to let her emotions show. “Hello there by the way, Bronwyn... My name’s Missouri,” she took Wyn hand and the young woman was surprised when instead of seeing memories, she felt an invisible wall. 

“Woah, how did you… I didn’t see anything!”

“Comes from years of practice. Don’t worry, we'll cover that in our lessons.”


“So you’ll do it?” John asked, “You’ll help her get control of whatever this is?”

“Her abilities. Yes, she’s a gifted girl and I will gladly take her under my wing. And for goodness sake, will you call your children?! I won’t always play your little game. Next time Sam and Dean come through lookin for you, I’m inclined to tell them where you been.”

“Just -- help Bronwyn get her powers in check. Her headaches are almost gone, but still can’t control it when there’s skin to skin contact. You let me handle my boys my way, you hear me?”


Wyn stood by silently, as the two older adults discussed her fate. Processing the news. Sam’s girlfriend was dead. She wondered if it was the same girlfriend Sam had moved on so quickly with. It seemed like a lifetime ago that her heart was broken, not just a few years. 

Emphatic grief for Sam overcame her. What frustration and anger she may have held for him, she never wanted him to be in pain. But the fact that he was in pain, because he loved another woman… She shook herself. She couldn’t hold onto that anger that wasn’t deserved in Sam’s case. He had been completely alone in the world, believing that he was betrayed by his love. Of course, he would try to find love with another. More so she was crushed, because he had finally made it out. Sam was supposed to live a happy normal life with that normal girl who wasn't completely poison to everything she touched. 

John snapped for her attention, and Wyn blinked bringing herself back to the moment. From their conversation, it was decided Wyn would work with Missouri in her shop. The psychic would train Wyn to control her abilities, so she wouldn’t accidentally see into the mind of everyone she touched. She had to admit she was relieved. It seemed that there might be a light at the end of her twisted tunnel of pain. 

Missouri seemed nice enough, Wyn just hoped she didn’t curse this woman. 

“Maybe I shouldn’t stay…”

“What do you mean?” John asked, brow furrowed.

“Look, I appreciate you wanting to help,” she peered reservedly at the woman, “Honest I do, but people in my general proximity tend to get hurt. I can’t ask you to put yourself in danger like this.”

“You mean from the demon?”

Wyn and John exchanged glances. “How did you know about that?” he demanded.

“Well, I saw it when I touched her hand. She saw what her Daddy saw that night. Since you been such a tight-lipped fool about this whole mess.”

“... Yes. A demon with yellow eyes. I think it’s the same thing that took Mary.”

“Where are you goin next then?”

“Can’t tell ya. For your own safety.”

Wyn suddenly was filled with concern for the man. Why was he putting himself in such reckless danger? This thought mulled in her mind, and before realizing they were at the exit to the psychics shop, and Missouri was telling her to her over bright early, first thing in the morning. Wyn didn’t know exactly what time that meant, but she was choosing to take it as “whenever you wake up and won’t be grouchy.” Their host managed to fill their bellies twice before sending them off. Already feeling like she found a friend.


Near the end of the day, John drove Wyn back to her home. The ride back John was clear to convey the plan to her. That if her headaches continued or got worse, then to call him. And he then told her to open his glove compartment. He had made a copy of his address book. In case she needed anything. The Winchester made note of certain hunters in particular. Including a man, who he may not be on good terms with, by the name of Robert Singer. 

“He’s a good man. Looked after the boys a lot when they were younger. He was like family once. But he’s a good man to turn to. A fount of knowledge in history and lore.”

“I remember Sam mentioning their Uncle Bobby. Thank you, I,” she cleared her throat, “I appreciate your help. I’ve been alone in this whole mess for… well for a long time.”

The truck made the rocky journey up the gravel path to her front yard. It sat idly near the front porch, headlights just clicked into the dusky evening. John then turned and put on his strong marine face. 

“Alright, I left you some books that I want you to read. Gonna test you on it next time I see ya. I gotta make sure you know how to take care of yourself, and the best way to do that his by arming you with the full knowledge of what’s out there. I’ll touch base once in a while to make sure things are alright…”

“Are you— you’re not leaving now though are you?”

“Do you want me to stay?” He quirked a single brow up and smirked bemusedly. 

“I mean, well… it’s late and you haven’t slept in — when is the last time you slept?”

John out a good natured scoff, “Can’t really remember.”

“Well, I don’t have the guest room made up, but there’s the couch. And I’ve got plenty of blankets.”

John Winchester beheld the young woman before him with curiosity, and just a hint of tenderness, “Thanks Bronwyn. That’s really kind of ya.”




Sam felt unsettled. It was a feeling almost like he was forgetting something. Something left behind. But they had taken care of business in Lawrence. Jenny and her kids were fine. Well… as fine as they could be after having gone through what they did. Their old home stirred up alot. To make things even tougher to deal with, seeing his Mom sent his mind into the past. Mulling over past conversations with a particular auburn haired blue eyed girl. His eyes watched the mile markers pass by on the side of the road lost in thought. 


“Huh?” Sam turned to Dean who was giving him an annoyed look. 

“I said we should give Caleb call and see if he’s heard from Dad at all. What’s up with you?”

“I dunno, just… got a lot on my mind.”

Dean sighed, “Yeah… but man we can’t let it get to us. I mean I’m as shook as you seeing Mom like that. But we still have a job to do. Find Dad and find the thing that destroyed our lives.”

“It just trudged up a lot…” Sam couldn’t tell Dean that he was thinking about Bronwyn. No. That was over and done with. No point in wringing his hands over someone who didn’t want anything to do with him. But… it seemed like his past was catching up with him. Who knows what lay further down the road. At least, and the end of the day, he had Dean. They could handle anything.

Chapter Text

The first thing Missouri had Wyn start working on was Tarot readings. She said it was essential to truly being able to read someone. With time, Missouri told her, she would gain the capability to see someone’s aura by letting her sight see into the next plane. Wyn delighted in learning something new and took to it quite well. 

After everything that had happened in Washington, and apparently what Sam went through in Palo Alto, Wyn wanted to know everything she could. From her time in college she had learned as much as she could about the supernatural. But the university library’s Occult inventory was slightly lacking. Having a direct resource like Missouri helped dramatically.

Between the books that John left her to study and almost daily lessons with her new psychic mentor, Wyn was starting to feel like she could actually have a fighting chance against the forces trying to manipulate her life. 

So far, they knew it was a demon that attacked their loved ones, but they still didn’t know why. At least… Wyn didn’t know. She had a feeling John had more information than he was letting on. He didn’t seem surprised when she shared the revelation of her father’s memories. So, he had to suspect it was a demon before reconnecting with her. 

“It’s interesting…” Missouri spoke, eyes focused on Wyn, her palms placed gently on either temple.

“What is?”

“You and Sam,” Missouri lowered her hands, signaling the near end of their session, “You have so much in common. Both of your abilities developed at the same time it seems.”

“You mentioned that before… that he’s been seeing things too.”

“Mhm. From what I can tell his abilities are more precognitive, but he’s able to feel certain energies. Yours are more empathic with a second sight for memories it seems.”


“Why what? Be specific honey,” she smiled playfully. There was a certain air about Missouri, she had a tendency to make anyone feel at ease. 

“Why me? Why us? Why did our abilities surface at the same time?”

“I couldn’t say for certain. But, I know how we can get a couple answers.” Her mentor pulled out a small leather drawstring bag, and opened it for Wyn to see. These are runes, they’re used in scrying to find answers to questions.”

“Any questions?”

“Not so much on questions of the future, but more questions of the now and why we are the way we are.”

Wyn furrowed her brow. She still didn’t fully understand. 

“Here, hold out your hands,” Wyn held out her hands cupped together, and Missouri dumped the rune stones into her possession. A subtle, yet unique, sensation spread through her extremities at the contact.

“Now, clear your mind. Then focus on the questions you want asked.” 

“Where do my powers come from?”

She threw the stones gently onto the cloth before her. Missouri narrowed her eyes in focus, “Hmm, no clear answer. Put them back in the bag and try asking the question again.” Wyn did so. 

“Odd. It’s the same.”

“What do they say?” 

“It’s a duality paradox. This here,” she gestured to one section on the table, “says they were always present, meaning from birth. But here,” she pointed to another area, “it implies an outside source.”

“What does that mean?” Something certainly felt strangely recognizable about the results. A tickle in the back of her mind, trying to surface and discern the true meaning. 

Missouri sighed, “Sometimes we can’t understand the runes meaning until much later. You have to learn to see the world around you in every perspective. You possess such a deep empathy for others' emotions, a side effect of your gift I imagine.”

“I don’t know if I’d call it a gift. Certainly hasn’t done me any good so far.” After all, where were her abilities when Aunt Stacy was possessed. If she had been able to do what she could now, perhaps… things would have ended differently. 

“That’s because it’s not time yet. You gotta hone your abilities before you find out why you have them.”

“But, John just said not to use them just ‘get them under control’?”

“Yes, I know what that stubborn mule of a Winchester said, and he doesn’t know a thing about psychic abilities. So, as far as I’m concerned - we’re doing things my way. And your powers? Use them, don’t use them. What you do with your powers when you have them under control is up to you honey. No one can control your destiny, but you.”

She considered the words. John seemed terrified of what was happening to her. Missouri treated her… well like normal. But Wyn wasn’t sure she was ready to accept this part of who she was.

“You said, that I was born with these powers, but I only started seeing things recently.”

“Like I said you’re more empathic. You’ve probably just been able to read people pretty well your whole life, you just never paid any attention since it wasn’t significant.”

Wyn thought back to Sam and Dean teaching her poker and Dean getting amusingly frustrated at her ability to tell when he was bluffing. Her brow drew together pondering. Every lesson seemed to bring new information for her to consider.

The rest of the lesson that day was spent with meditation. Which Wyn was much more accustomed to, from her brief training in Tai Chi. These sessions were meant to aid in Wyn’s ability to reach within herself and to employ her ability at will.


In the beginning, nothing happened. Wyn engaged in the exercise every time, without receiving noticeable benefit. She would finish their session, aided around the shop, and even began helping Missouri with clients.

It wasn’t until a rainy afternoon a number of weeks later that she sat down at the end of her lessons with Missouri across from her, when something sparked. Only a few minutes into the peaceful darkness behind her closed eyes, a surprising tingle started in her center, shooting a fine line to her forehead between her eyes. It was significantly different than past experiences.

Like falling into a warm bath, the young woman felt her arm reach out. And with gentle ease her fingers connected with her mentors temple. A blue light blinked in her vision and suddenly the darkness melted away to reveal a soft warm glow. 


A hospital room. 

A woman lay in a hospital bed. She looked exhausted, but she was smiling. Ebony curls framed her glowing face. A man, her husband, sat on the edge of the bed his large hands holding hers smiling proudly. 

Missouri crying tears of joy.

“Oh Tess, James, you both made such a beautiful baby girl! She’s the most perfect grandchild in all creation!” Missouri bounced her body gently holding a blanketed bundle in her arms. A gentle coo-ing, followed by a tiny hand reaching up to her grandmother. 

    “Hello there Patience, I can’t wait to spoil you rotten. And to teach you. I’ve got a good feelin’ about you little one.”


    The connection broke, and the surrounding room became clear once more. 

“I did it!” Overcome with the joyous love she felt from her vision, Wyn felt a laugh bubble up inside her.

Missouri was already on her feet, “How did that feel?”

“Good. Great! No pain at all — hey, are you… okay?”

The mentor smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes, “You’re gettin’ stronger,” Missouri cleared her throat, “We’ll have to see how far you can dig. Pulling up a memory that’s pushed deep down can be hard when the person isn’t thinking about it…” 

“Oh,” Wyn inhaled, realizing she must have seen something a little too private, “I-I’m sorry I didn’t—“

“No, no it’s fine. No harm done darling. I think we’re done for the day.” 

With that, the elder psychic went to the front door and switched the sign from closed to open. It was only another minute before Missouri’s smile was back to normal. At nine o’clock sharp the elder psychics regular appointment for Monday mornings alerted them with the tingling of the doorbell. The petite woman came bustling through, convinced once again her man had strayed.

It was business as usual. Except for the concerned gaze of the young pupil. And she couldn’t be certain if it was because of her experience or a result of hard work, but for the first time Wyn allowed her eyes to see beyond. The remainder of the day Wyn observed Missouri’s aura shimmering with a silvery black. 

It was sadness. Loss . A self-blaming grief so deep her very essence reflected it.

All at once, Wyn wished she hadn’t seen anything. 



Sam leaned against the Impala. The night was brisk and quiet, with the exception of the commotion earlier. A small grin lifted the corner of his lips seeing his brother through the window of the house comforting his former flame and her mother. He had never seen Dean like this, especially over an old flame. On top of everything, they had to figure out how to stop a haunted killer truck. 

Originally, livid, Sam recalled using Dean’s own words against him over spilling the beans of the family secret. “We do what we do, and we shut up about it.” But he couldn’t deny the hint of happiness he saw in his big brother. 

Dean never let anyone in. Seeing him with Cassie, it was obvious he had it bad. Hell, she was the only partner he thought actually held her own against Dean's stubbornness. Of course, he couldn’t deny that he wanted this to work out for Dean, and it definitely wasn’t because it reminded him of his own heartbreak of a love running for the hills. And for the first person Dean fell in love with, to cut and run after he told the truth for the first time… well Sam could relate.

“How are they?” Sam asked, as Dean returned.

“Cassie’s taking care of her Mom. She’ll be out in a bit.” Sam didn’t hide his smirk. “Stop it.”

“What? I’m just happy to see you not so jaded.”

“Yeah well, I don’t know if that’s gonna last,” Dean sighed, taking his spot next to Sam and leaned back against the steel frame of his Baby. “This whole life still freaks her out, but at least she doesn’t think I’m nuts anymore.”

“Hell, if she’s ready to try, it’s worth it. At least one of us can be happy.” Sam saw Dean’s gaze turn to him softly. He could almost hear the words ready to spill out of Dean’s mouth. But the sound of Cassie approaching them from the house, icy grass crunching under her feet got both their attention.

Time to get back to work.


Hours later, Cassie and her mother were both in the rearview mirror as Sam pulled onto the interstate. The chapter seemed to have closed on Cassie and Dean, but at the very least, they both had been able to achieve closure. No hurtful actions, no words left unsaid. Besides, their next case was already waiting. Only time would tell if they would ever cross paths again.

By the time night fell, they had switched driving shifts with Dean, now, behind the wheel. He drove in silence. Still in deep thought about the first love he left behind. Sam didn’t mention it. When Dean was ready to talk he would. Prying before it was time would only result in sarcasm and snarky comments about how he didn’t need to talk about his feelings. No. Sam knew how to play his big brother like a fiddle at this point.

A deep yawn stretched out of Sam. Reservedly, he nestled against the inside of the car and allowed the steady rhythm of the highway to lull him into some much needed sleep. Into a dream, that later he would only remember vaguely. But a dream that meant more than it seemed.




They lay together on a bed in a windowless room, brick walls on opposite sides of the room and cinder block wall adjacent. Bookcases, a desk and other little touches that showed this was definitely a shared room. It had an art deco style of design for the lights, sink and other utilities. Unfamiliar, yet… Home. 

Wyn felt a hard naked body nestled behind her, pressed firmly against her own nude form. She felt her lover moving inside her. Slow, blissful passion emanating between them. She turned her head and reached her palm to gently brush his cheek. Lines around his eyes, years worn. He was different - older, but still perfectly Sam. 

Stunning hazel eyes locked with hers. Twin gasps and moans lingered in the air. Their breath shared, lips brushing against each other. Sam’s arm reached around to caress her slightly swollen belly. 

Pregnant. She was pregnant, again.

The knowledge wasn’t surprising, but reassuring. The strong hands of her love, her soulmate, providing assurance he would protect them both… just as she would protect him. 

Their movements that had been slow and easy, soon grew in intensity. At the moment of peak pleasure their lips joined. Absolute adoration shared between them both. It was just as they were coming down, when a tiny, persistent knock sounded on the door.

“Mommy! Daddy! Wake UP! Unca Dean says we hafta open pwesents!”

The two chuckled lightly in tandem. Wyn narrowed her eyes playfully at Sam, “Only your daughter would wake up this early everyday,” turning her body now to face him. Their hands intertwined, and she could see matching silver bands on their left ring fingers. 

“Well, it’s Christmas. I imagine ‘Uncle Dean’ was up before her,” Sam grinned. “Good thing Cas doesn’t need sleep.”

“Helloooo??” Came to the sweet voice once again.

“In just a minute baby girl,” Sam’s voice called out. Tiny bare feet scurried away down the hall outside their door. They had maybe five minutes, before she returned. Sam chuckled again, shaking his head slightly, then returned his gaze to Wyn’s adoring one aimed at him.

“What?” he inquired. “You’ve got a look.”

“I’m happy. I’m just… right now,” she took his hand and placed it once again on her stomach, “I’m so incredibly happy.”  

“Good,” he brushed the hair from her face, “You deserve happiness. We deserve happiness.” He pressed their lips together in a deep kiss. Mouths moving together, with perfect knowledge of the other’s affection. 

“I love you.”





Wyn jolted awake. Slowly her mind separated from the fantasy and settled back to the reality surrounding her. She looked around to see the familiar look of her new room. The farmhouse renovations had gone well. It was actually starting to look like a home. She rotated her head, and saw the digital clock on the bed stand read 7:15am

Rising from her comforting blankets, the young psychic stretched, and rolled her neck for good measure. Today she was expecting a visit. One she had been expecting for a while. John Winchester was finally returning to check on her progress.

When her feet touched to cool wood floor, she couldn’t help but think what she had just woken from. An odd feeling of prophetic hope filled her, as the images flashed before her mind once more.

    What a dream…




John smirked full of amusement as Wyn animatedly explained the changes she had made to her home, and the lore she dug into to protect from demonic and supernatural entities that may try to make their way onto the property. It had been a couple of months since he left her in Kansas, but he could tell that Wyn was well on her way to being as knowledgeable as his boys, though she would need more practical experience of course. Maybe he could help with that. 

To keep Wyn as safe as he could, John only contacted her briefly over payphones and occasionally by text on one of his many numbers. He didn’t have to worry about her wandering off, and he was able to stay under the boys radar. While he would give his boys instructions for a hunt, he was giving Wyn instructions for research. Research on the demon, and the thing that could take him out. When the hunter heard the rumors of such a weapon resurfacing, it sounded too good to be true.  

Of course, Wyn was confused as to exactly why John had her researching record of an old gun. Eventually, he was forced to let her in on a secret few were privy to. The Colt - He would send her the resources and names of specific books and records he needed. Then she would ship them to a hunter buddy of his, or they would come to her, and get the information to John. He was on the demons trail, so he couldn’t stay in one place long and couldn’t get a hold of the research himself. 


Currently, they were taking a break following target practice outside. Wyn definitely had a long way to go as far as shooting was concerned. Turns out, she was NOT a good shot.

“I hired a few different contractors to take care of the renovations. Paid all of them in cash, of course, like you said. Got the windows redone with consecrated iron. Devil’s Traps carved and painted into the underside of the floorboards at each doorway. Hallways are gonna be lined with Himalayan salt slabs next month, had to special order those. Hoodoo blessing bags in the North, South, West, and East corners of the house on all floors. And I had the well blessed by a priest, so holy water runs through all the pipes. Oh, plus,” she pointed to the corner in the upper left side of the living room, “security cameras, for things that get passed all that.”

John smiled at her with a crooked sort of grin. She beamed, hoping for praise of her hard efforts. “I’m impressed Bronwyn! Good job!”

“Thanks, Dad! Uh--” her cheeks burned crimson and her eyes went wide. John’s complexion rosied as well as he looked intently into his glass of whiskey. “I-Um, just mean, thank you! I’ve been doing a bunch of research, and I wanted to get your opinion and everything. Thought you could tell me what I could improve, ya know… Anyway, don’t think anything supernatural’s getting in here anytime soon.” 

“Well, like I said. You did a good job here. You’re shapin up to be a natural hunter!”

Wyn smiled, pride swelling in her chest. For so long, she had managed without any guidance. It felt good to have John’s counsel.

John looked down at the book in her lap and narrowed his eyes, looking at the journal she had been taking notes in. Then something must have occurred to him, “Did I give you this?”

“Oh,” Wyn blushed again, “yeah,” she closed the journal and ran her hand over the leather bound cover, “That Christmas after the big snowstorm remember?”

“I remember,” John’s smile was soft. Full of memories just behind his glassy eyes. Before he could stop himself, Wyn saw his eyes flicker to her necklace. A gift she had received that same Christmas morning from his youngest. But they didn’t talk about the time before…

“That reminds me, I picked ya up something on my last hunt,” the elder Winchester rose to his feet, heading towards his duffle. Then returned and held out a knife holster holding a silver blade. She took his gift in her hand, unsheathing the blade and read the latin inscription etched along the side, Fortis Filiae

“It, uh… means brave daughter or something like that.” His dismissal a defense technique, though she hoped it was chosen for a specific reason.

“Thank you, I love it!” She beamed in response to his thoughtfulness. It wasn’t something she was quite used to, and she could tell he wasn’t used to it either. 

“Any news on Meg?”

A regretful look crossed the hunters face that told Wyn all she needed to know. She nodded. 

“I’m sorry… I’ve put the word out. Got all my hunter contacts on the look out. If she’s alive, we’ll find her. I promise.” 

A sad smile surfaced. She knew it was a long shot. But she couldn’t help but hold out the slightest bit of hope. 

“Well, I should hit the road before long. Caleb said he had a lead I should follow.”

“Hey,” she too rose to her feet. He couldn’t leave yet. He just got here. “I cooked way too much pasta. I was gonna take leftovers to Missouri’s tomorrow. Would you wanna stay for dinner?” John held back a grin at her words. “And I’ve got the guest room set up, so you could stay the night. Get a fresh start in the morning.”

“You know I can’t say ‘no’ to a home cooked meal,” he grinned and removed his cap from his head, and ran his hand through his hair. The two entered the kitchen to share a rare meal together. For a short while the two could forget about the other troubles that waited just on the horizon.




Sam was exhausted. He hadn’t slept in almost two days. They had been working so hard to try and solve this last case. So many questions were rising. The thing that killed Jess and their Mom, they had always suspected it was pure random evil trying to spread chaos wherever it could. But with the recent discovery of people like him, and all he had in common with Max… what if the demon wanted them? 

“Man, we’re lucky we had dad,” Sam’s words made Dean halt, and scoff in mild amusement.

“Never thought I’d hear you say that,” Dean muttered stuffing his gun into his bag, and scanned the motel room once more for anything forgotten.

“Well, it could’ve been worse after Mom died. If Dad drank more instead of digging into the supernatural. We could’ve ended with Max’s childhood, or who knows what else.”

“Yeah…” Dean eyed his brother knowingly. Something obviously on his mind, “We could’ve been taken away from Dad, and locked him in the nuthouse.” Sam’s eyes widen at Deans words. He expected the next words out of Dean’s mouth to be the name he hadn’t heard in years. 

But he didn’t. Dean allowed the words to linger in the air, then continued packing and zipped up the weapons bag. 

“I suppose,” Sam exhaled.

“You know, there’s another major piece of this puzzle we’re not talking about. Been avoiding it for a while now…”


“Sammy, we gotta talk about her.”

“No. Dean, I can’t I--- She doesn’t… No.” 

Dean sighed. He stared at his little brother with deliberating resolve. “Maybe you’re afraid? Afraid of seeing her again…”

“Dean, please.” The pleading, in perfect combination with the puppy eyes, did him in.

“Okay. Not gonna talk about the elephant in the room? Fine. But we are gonna talk about what’s goin’ on with your premonitions, while we’re on the road little brother.”

“Where we heading?” Sam tried to slow his heart rate back to normal.

“Vegas, Psychic boy!”

Sam blinked, tilted his head, then laughed softly, “You know that’s not exactly how it works,” he tapped the side of his head.

“We deserve a break anyway. Come on, it'll be fun.”

“Sure. Why not? We can make a thing of it. Annual Brother’s trip to Vegas!”

With the weapons bag, hung over his shoulder and his personal bags in either hand, Dean marched towards the door and went outside to the Impala. Sam had a feeling Dean was more freaked out than he let on, but that was in line with Dean’s MO. Making jokes and trying to make Sam feel at ease. But Dean had pretty much nailed it on the head. He was terrified of seeing Wyn again. 

What would she say to him? What would he say to her? What if the same thing that was happening to him, that happened to Max, happened to her? Sam could only hope and pray that when she ran away all those years ago, she ran so far that this nightmare couldn’t find her. 




“Well,” John said squinting and scratched the back of his head, “at least you aren’t a shit shot anymore.” They both examined the target with holes peppering most of page. “You’re just a crap shot now.” 

The sun was beginning to set 

“I’m much better with a shotgun.” She tucked her pistol in its holster. 

“A child would be better with a shotgun,” John teased.

“That’s it, no supper for you!”

“Oh come on now don’t be like that,” John followed her up the steps of the front porch.

“Ah-ah, wipe your feet!” 


On his most recent visit, John had brough along and introduced Wyn to pair of hunter friends. A somewhat young couple, whom had worked a case with John before. As it happened they were passing through in need of a place to lay their heads. 

Interestingly, it seemed the Evans home had become a bit of a safehouse for hunters. At first, they were either a friend of John’s or Missouri’s. Then, slowly but surely, a friend of a friend of a hunter she knew would show up, asking for a place to stay. Either trying to lay low after their latest hunt, or just needing a safe place to rest up, before heading out once more. 

Wyn never charged any of the hunters to stay there. The estate funds were being managed, and she wouldn’t need to think about money for several years. Most folks ended up either offering to help with repairs, restocking her kitchen, ammo, or other supernatural defense supplies. Most of this trip, John had been explaining the new resources he wanted Wyn to investigate. Once again, his requests had been as vague as possible. 

The couples’ voices carried from the living room where the two had been in deep discussion over Wyn’s modest library collection. John followed Wyn through the main entrance and into the dining room, with all his papers spread out, and journal open at the end of the table. She saw scribbled in the margin of a page, what looked like a book title. 

Regius Puerum et Reginae Pallidus: Prophetiae ?!” Wyn’s heart leapt, upon translating the title in her head. The Boy King and Pale Queen: Prophecy.

“It’s a book on demon prophecies,” John explained gathering his notes together to clear the table. “I hadn’t been able to trace any copies down. Seems like they were all destroyed. Some secret organization got their hands on the last copy, before they disappeared decades ago.”

“Does it have to do with the demon?”

John stopped, and turned to Wyn, evaluating, “It doesn’t matter. It’s lost. Been searching for it almost as long as The Colt.”

Wyn nodded, not commenting on the dodging of her question. 

The one thing Wyn never shared with John, when the demon possessing Stacy let slip the name “Pale Queen”. She couldn’t say for certain why this one piece of information she kept to herself. Considering, he was looking for a book of prophecy about that name, it filled her with dread. 

If you get secrets John Winchester, then I deserve to keep at least one, she thought. 

“Tamera, Isaac. Tell me you two are hungry!”

Chapter Text

End of May


It was a warm night, just weeks before her twenty-third birthday, when Wyn was awoken by urgent knocking on her front door, with multiple rings of the bell. A quick look at the security monitor next to the bed showed John bracing himself on the doorframe. He was hurt!

Injured hunters coming to her home in the middle of the night was nothing new to her by this point. It had already happened twice that month. But tonight, an odd feeling filled her. Something was different.

Tying her robe around her tightly, she raced down the stairs flipping on the light to the living room and entryway. She then opened the door to a shocking sight.

“Fuck - what happened?!”

John Winchester stood bleeding from the forehead and was nursing a deep wound in his chest. He stumbled forward. Thankfully, she was able to brace herself, and held as much of his weight up as she could. He shook his head groggily, trying to avoid placing all his mass upon the significantly shorter woman.

“Shit, let’s get you horizontal come on.”

Together, they shuffled into the living room. Wyn laid John out as gently as she could onto the sofa, and helped him remove his leather jacket and over shirt. Scissors found lying on the coffee table from cutting out news articles earlier that day, were required to remove his undershirt without causing significant pain. Then, taking inventory of his injuries, Wyn held back a cringe. It definitely wasn’t pretty. 

“You wanna explain what did this?”

John lay silently for a moment before explaining, “Deava. Shadow demons.” His head lolled to the side and he passed out. Body going slack into the comfortable fabric on the couch in a desperate need to rest. 

“Uh-huh.” Hadn’t seen the man in weeks, but seemed that was all she was going to get as far as an explanation. At least his breathing was strong and steady, she could allow him to rest for a bit. 

The young psychic touched the skin by his head wound gently to inspect the injury closer. Before she could stop it, the image of a road sign saying “Welcome to Chicago” flashed before her eyes.

Wyn yanked her hand away quickly. 

“The hell?”

Unsettled at her powers misbehaving all of a sudden, she shook herself before returning to the task at hand. With determined focus she made her way into the kitchen, and placed a pot on the stove to boil. Then pulled out the customized hunter first aid kit beneath the sink. 

Over the past few months, as a few folk would stumble through, seeking a safe place to hide or recover after a hunt, she educated herself more thoroughly on how to clean and care for deep wounds. Aunt Stacy had really only covered basic care when she was younger. It was either learn, or let someone bleed out on her hardwood.

After getting all the supplies she needed, Wyn settled next to the sleeping hunter and began to wipe away the dried blood over his bare skin. But even trying to keep her powers in check, she could feel John’s worry pulsing through him. Each time she touched his exposed skin, it took all that she had to not look into his mind, again.

By the time she tended his head wound, she had assessed he had been in Chicago when he, apparently, faced off against a shadow demon. Little flashes of the attack coming to her, despite trying to block them. 

Obviously, it really affected John. Otherwise the fear wouldn’t be so evident. 

Damnit John, did you drive straight here? Stupid man, should’ve gone to a hospital.

“Couldn’t... go to a hospital,” John muttered coming to. Wyn inhaled. She could have sworn she didn’t say that outloud. “Had to be sure… nothing following--”

“Shh, here,” Wyn picked up a glass she had prepared for him, the cool water dripping down the side in the warm night. “Drink. You’re definitely dehydrated. And your blood sugar is probably low,” She then layed out a sterilized needle and thread for the wound on his pectoral. The scratches were deep enough, she couldn’t leave them open. “You can have food after I’m done.”

John looked relieved at the prospect of food. 

“Can you sit up a little,” she asked softly. “This’ll go quicker if you’re at an angle. You’re too tall.” 

A little mirth crept into his tired eyes, as John raised his torso up enough for her to tuck an extra pillow and towel behind him. Then thankfully, he downed the glass of water in a few great swallows.

“Whisky,” his voice gravelly. 

“Iodine is much better for wounds,” She gestured to the bottle she was already applying to his skin. 

John shook his head, exhausted, “Not for that.” 

“Fine,” she rolled her eyes and stood suddenly, throwing down the supplies before storming over to the bar by the door. A small glass, an inch of amber liquid, and put the glass down not quite gently on the table in front of him. 

“There’s your Damn drink, now can I get back to work?”

John looked at her oddly for a moment, almost as if he wasn’t entirely focused on her, then he nodded. 

Wyn continued working, carefully stitching the deep cuts. But John didn’t flinch. Worry and guilt showed through his aura, and didn’t abate when she tapped a clean gauze over top to prevent infection. 

“We’ll need to replace the bandages every few hours and keep the skin moist with this salve,” she handed him a small jar along with a bag of supplies, “it’ll help it heal quicker.”

John mindlessly took the bag nodding briefly, then stared into the now empty glass of whisky. Eyes distant, his mind a million miles away. Leaving him to his thoughts for the moment, she retrieved the fixings for a decent sandwich. Then, reentered to see John’s expression unchanged.

“Eat,” she ordered placing the food in front of him. “And when you’re done - you and I are going to have a serious chat.” Her pointed look giving no room for argument. The hunter took the meager sustenance graciously, and ate in silence. After a few minutes, John had managed to finish the sandwich, as well as a second one she made for him, and finished another two glasses of water. 

Once Wyn was satisfied that he wouldn’t pass out again, and his body had what it needed to start healing, she approached him to take the dirty dishes to the kitchen. John smiled softly in thanks, holding the plate out. She reached out to take it, and their fingers brushed. 

Suddenly, she felt a strong vision hit her. 


Sam and Dean, pinned on opposite sides of the room, yelling in pain. Shadows slashing, tearing, hurting his boys. No, not the boys, John thought, as another slash of agonizing pain went across his chest


Wyn jumped back, gasping. The empathetic pain and fear she felt still danced in the forefront of her mind.

“Sam and Dean?!” She struggled for air, John’s expression showing it’s own surprise. “You’ve seen them? Are they okay?!”

“How did you know that?” John’s voice hard and angry.

“I--” she swallowed, and took a settling deep breath, “I saw it.”

“You saw it?” The hunters strength returning to him, “I thought you had that under control!”
“I did -- I mean I do, mostly. I haven’t had any trouble recently. Usually, I only see people’s memories if I try, but you’ve been thinking about Chicago so much since you walked in, it’s been hard not to see it, and I saw the Daeva attacking you and the guys…” She finished meekly. 

“Damnit, Bronwyn! You’re not supposed to use your powers - Period!” John groaned in frustration and stood, his hands running through his hair. Briefly, the movement reminded her of Sam.

“I’ve been really careful,” she spoke stepping closer trying to soothe the rising anger, “And I only use it to help people that come to the shop.”

“It doesn’t matter.” He angrily swiped up his flannel, before putting it on.

“Don’t you trust me? I’ve gotten strong and really good at it! Plus, I’ve been studying up on all the lore you’ve sent me. You even said I’m a natural hunter, this could help! Besides, you’re the one took me to Missouri to train me!” 

“To get your abilities under control, not to use them. It’s too dangerous!”

The hunter wouldn’t look her in the eye. He simply huffed and puffed out in scolding anger.

“What are you hiding from me?”

“Excuse me?” His gaze sharp. A challenging fatherly look, meant to put her in her place. But she wasn’t a little girl anymore.

“I’ve sat by and let you lie to me for months, because I believed you knew what you were doing. But you can’t barge into my life and tell me to stop, when all I’ve done is help people. There’s something you’re not telling me. What is it?”

“... I’ve told you all you need to know for now.” 

“Stop treating me like a child! I’m smart enough to protect myself. Obviously, you know that, since you’ve had me researching high and low for that stupid gun!” She stood as tall as her small stature would allow, refusing to cave to the Winchester before her. Every back and forth voices raised louder, with anger bubbling dangerously to a climax.

“That stupid gun happens to be the only thing that can kill the thing that took everything from us: Your Parents, Mary, Stacy, Your Son-”

“Don’t!” Her skin bristled at the words. They never talked about it, not since that first day John arrived at her door, “You have no right to talk about Tommy!”

“He’s Sam’s son - My grandson! I have just as much right—”

“You’re the reason Sam left in the first place!” She screamed out shaking, “If you didn’t try to control people’s lives by pretending you know what’s best for everyone, then Tommy might still be alive!”

John clenched his eyes, breathing sharply through his nostrils, and jaw tight, “You have no idea where those powers came from. You can’t keep going down this path.” 

Why is he so adamant about this?  

“Then tell me, what are you hiding from me? You do nothing, but lie to and manipulate everyone around you. You can’t tell me how to live my life and then keep me in the dark!” 

“You have to listen to me, I know what I’m talking about.”

“YOU’RE NOT MY FATHER!” She saw the wind leave his sails, “I’m a grown woman John, I can make my own decisions.” 

John’s expression hardened. He reached for the first thing to come to his mind that would cause the most pain, “Wow, you and Sam have the same temper. No wonder it didn’t work out!”

A loud smack echoed when her small hand struck his cheek. A sharp act, altering their relationship. Like a mirror fracturing into a thousand pieces. 

The man stared back stunned, and made no move to touch the red mark surfacing on his skin. Wyn was filled with instant regret. She was never one to last out physically, “I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that...” Her voice was low, her eyes downcast. Stepping back, she put distance between them again. Like a safety barrier, to prevent further pain. 

“Bronwyn, you gotta understand…”

“I want you out of my house,” her voice quiet, she looked up at the tall intense man before her, holding back angry tears, “Leave.” Letting it known this was not up for discussion.

The Winchester patriarch remained still momentarily, before grabbing his leather jacket he had discarded on the chair. Wincing from the stitches as he put it on, then grabbed the bag of supplies she had given him. He steadily walked to the front door, like a man condemned. When his hand turned the knob and pulled, he gazed in her direction, as if to say something. Then, without a fight, John Winchester disappeared into the night. 

Wyn stood silent. When the sound of his truck on the gravel driveway finally faded, she reached for the half empty whisky bottle and took a generous swig to try and drown the overwhelming emotion threatening to untangle her very existence.

Unaware this was the last time she would ever see John Winchester.




Missouri opened her door to see a roughed up and ashamed looking John Winchester, hand still raised in a knock. 

“You really stepped in it this time John Winchester.”

The man didn’t say anything, just peered back at her with heavy eyes. Eyes filled with the weight of knowledge. Knowledge he kept secret to protect those he loved. Dean, Sam… and Wyn.

The psychic shook her head in exasperation, “Well, come on in then. But don’t think you’re getting away easy this time. It’s time you and me had a long conservation.”

John stepped over the threshold wearily, “Yeah, I suppose it is.” He eyed the sofa in her front room, knowing it would be a good while before he was able to close his eyes again. But it was time he shared what he knew. 

He needed help.




Mid July


It wasn’t long after the events in Chicago, that John met up with his sons once more. After months of searching, his old friend Daniel Elkins had The Colt all along. Revenge was so close he could almost taste it. They just needed to get it back from those damn vamps.

The dim cabin was scarcely supplied, but they had all they would need with them. Except for an item, he had sent Dean to retrieve.

John stared at Sam pacing back and forth. His little boy. 

Not so little anymore! He thought with a chuckle. His youngest was nervously awaiting Dean’s return from the funeral home with the dead man’s blood. He assured him, Dean was fine.

The Winchester patriarch just hoped that once they could get their hands on The Colt, then maybe… maybe his boys could have a normal life. Maybe they could rebuild the connections that he had severed. Find happiness after long last.

“Hey Sammy?” his spoke looking his son in the eyes tenderly. Sam stopped at the look in his father’s eyes. 


“Remember that Christmas I got back from that ghoul hunt? That big snowstorm in Oregon remember?”

Sam nodded. Of course he remembered. 

“That morning, seeing you and Dean so happy and… it meant so much to me. I think about it a lot.” The memories of the past few years had been weighing on him more heavily than it used to. “It was what your Mother wanted for you boys. She loved you both so much and she just wanted you to be happy.” John wiped away the wetness in his eyes at the memory of his lost love. “Believe or not, I didn’t want this life for you…”

“Then why did you get so angry when I left?”

“Because… I was afraid.”

“Afraid?” Sam looked surprised. 

“All I could think about when you left, was that you would be all alone. I wanted to protect you more than anything. If I didn’t keep you close then who would protect you? And because I did that… I lost the relationship I should’ve had with you boys.” 

His boys had grown up so much, he hadn’t even seen it. Regret was something John was quite familiar with at this point, and when lost opportunities were staring at him in the face… It made his mistakes glaringly obvious. “Sam I’m sorry. I never should have tried to control how you lived your life. I thought I was just protecting you, but… I never let you follow your own path. Maybe things would’ve been different with you and Dean. You might’ve finished school, gotten married...” Or had a son.

“I don’t know… after all we’ve been through. I’m not even sure that’s possible anymore. If I even deserve--” 

“Sam, none of this is your fault. Your Mom and Jessica - that was the Demon. An evil hell spawn that only wants to cause pain.”

“Well, turns out you were still right about everything,” his voice quiet, an almost defeated tone that broke John’s heart. “About doing the job, not letting people too close, keeping the people we care about safe… That night I ran away, Wyn left me. And that just—” he sucked in through clenched teeth. 

John didn’t say anything. Just let Sam speak his peace. “But she was the smart one. I mean,” Sam gave a disheartened shrug, “Look what happened to Jessica… as much as it hurt to see that, if it had been Wyn-“ Sam shook his head tearing his gaze away his father. Both ignoring the obvious tears in his eyes. 

The past crept forward in his mind and John contemplated, not for the first time, telling Sam about Bronwyn. About everything that went down in Oregon. The last thing he wanted for Sam to get blindsided if he started digging trying to find her, but he had made a promise. A promise that it was her place to tell Sam about their child. 

And John Winchester, if nothing else, was a man of his word.



End of July


Sam rushed forward when Meg slumped over. His second exorcism was a success, at least not a complete shit show like the one on an airplane. But now the real Meg was fighting for her life. Dean ordered Bobby to grab supplies, and call for help. They both unknotted the ropes restraining her, fingers moving quickly. 

“Th-thank- y-you.”

“Shh,” Sam tried to comfort the girl, “It’ll be alright. Okay, we’re gonna get you help.”

Once freed Dean lifted her up with Sam’s help, and they laid the poor girl down. He could only pray the position made her injuries more bearable. 

“Y-years,” the blonde weakly spoke, “it’s had me -- for --years…”

Sam stroked her hair soothing her once more, “Just take it easy okay?”

“It-...had complete co-control. The thi-ings I…” Her rattly inhale made Sam cringe, realizing her lungs were filling with blood. He looked into her eyes, overcome with deep empathy for this unfortunate soul. She moved her lips struggling, “I have to … tell--”

“Was it telling the truth?” Dean’s voice urgent. “Is our Dad alive?”

“Yes…” Meg nodded peering up at Dean, “but it’s a trap. They-- They want you to come for him. Th-they’ll be ready for you.” Suddenly, Bobby re-entered carrying most of his linen closet with him, trying to bring her any sort of comfort. He handed a glass of water to Dean, and he helped Meg take a gentle sip. While Sam balled up a blanket, placing it as carefully as he could under her head. Deep down, Sam knew it was too late. But maybe… if she could just hold on.

“Where’s the demon we’re looking for?” he asked. 

Weakly, the broken girl shook her head, “Don’t know. Not there. I’ve seen… It’s face is so awful,” her gaze a thousand yard stare.

“Where are they keeping our Dad?” 

“By the river...S-Sunrise Apart-ments…”

Meg’s breathing increased rapidly, struggling even more. Shaking she reached out for Sam. Without a thought, he took her hand clasping it between his own. “You need t-to -- know- B-Br…”

“What is it?” His heart froze. Mind racing he waited. His eyes searched her own, only to feel her go limp. He felt her grip release, now dead eyes staring into nothing. Sadly, he looked to his big brother searching for any explanation for Meg’s last words. What vital piece of information was she trying to tell him? 




The Demon stood facing off with John Winchester in the dank basement. Both knew the two lacky demons standing by, were merely there on principal. Quite frankly, this meeting could have taken place mono a mono, but there was some special delight in seeing John squirm. 

John stared stone faced at the Yellow-Eyed Bastard gloating before him. The monster that took Mary from him, almost killed Dean, and hurt Sam and Bronwyn. Thought of Dean connected to tubes and machines in his hospital bed helped John keep his pride in check. 

Yellow Eyes smirked, stepping closer, “You know the truth? About Sammy?”

“Yeah. I’ve known for a while. And I know why...”

“I’m impressed. But I’m guessing you’ve kept that secret from your boys… and Winny too, huh? The daughter you never had?” The Demon stepped closer to him, invading his space. He could feel the creatures foul breath on his face, “Oh, Johnny boy,” It sniffed the air between them and chuckled darkly, “she softened up that angry little heart of yours, real nice didn’t she?” 

John kept his poker face, resisting the obvious bait for a reaction.

“I tell ya, I’ve got high hopes for those two crazy kids!” The Demon laughed wickedly, “After all the power those two have… my master is gonna love them.”

John clenched his jaw and let out an involuntary shudder, but pushed the image of the demon’s plans from his mind. Bronwyn was smart, resourceful, and strong. Much stronger than when he first met her. With Dean alive, he would be able to watch out for Sam, or if the worst should happen… He looked back into those evil yellow eyes.

“Can you cure Dean or not?” 

“Of course. I’ll need to -- shall we say ‘outsource’ the job, but won’t be a problem… But I need more from you than just the gun.”




Beginning of August


“Missouri! I’m back!” Wyn announced, entering the older psychic’s home. Hoisting up the bag of her recent acquisitions from her extended road trip, she made her way into the back room. 

“The trip was a big success! And New Orleans? Freakin’ awesome! I got all sorts of amulets, occult objects, hoodoo stuffs, and per your request: Beignet Mix and Dark-Roast Coffee Beans straight from Cafe..du...Monde…” She faltered upon seeing her mentors face. “What? What happened?”

Missouri stepped toward her, “John Winchester. Honey, he’s dead.”

The young woman stilled, her eyes falling shut. She breathed deep once, twice, and again. “H-how? When?”

Taking the bag from her, Missouri, then steered her gently toward the sofa in her office. “Bout a week ago. I had a vision, and I… I can’t be certain, but I’m pretty sure it was the Demon. The one you've been searching for.”

Wyn clenched her fists, and shook her head in anger. The thought of the only father figure she ever knew, losing the fight against the evil thing he’d been hunting for twenty-odd years. The demon that destroyed her family, and took everything from her. Her eyes drifted up, mouth open, hardly believing the tumultuous revelation. Her mind went to Sam and Dean. The mind-boggling pain they must be feeling. She swallowed the lump in her throat. 

“Oh God… poor Sam and Dean.”

That night, Wyn sat alone at a bar in the middle of nowhere, on the road back to her home. Kansas played on the jukebox. Only a couple regulars sat in their own corners of the bar. The young woman lifted her glass, the light gleaming through the amber liquid, “Here’s to you John.” Throwing the drink back, it burned on the way down her throat. Then, she threw some cash down on the dirty wood top, and left. Returning to her empty house alone.

Chapter Text

Dean was freaking out. That much Sam was sure of. He didn’t even need Ellen to tell him Dean had been calling all over asking for him. He had expected as much. All Sam needed was a bit more time. Ash had been working on the program to track down any of the children that fit the pattern of the nursery fires on the night of the kid’s six month birthday. 

The MIT drop out (“ I was kicked out for fighting!) plopped down on the bar stool next to Sam, holding a piece of paper between his fingers. Ash eyed the cold bottle of beer on the counter with longing. He spun around once on the stool, before sharing.

“Five folks fit the profile nationwide. Born in 83’, mother died in a nursery fire, the whole shebang.”

“Five? That’s it?” Sam’s shoulders fell in disappointment.

Ash gave him a look, “Just using the stats you gave me,” and took a long swig from the bottle before listing off, “Sam Winchester - Lawrence, Kansas. Present. Max Miller from Saginaw, Michigan. Deceased. Andrew Gallagher from Guthrie, Oklahoma. Doing just fine apparently. Scott Carey Lafayette, Indiana. Killed last month--”

“Killed? How?” 

“Stabbed. Cops don’t have any leads yet.”

“Thanks, Ash, this is great work. Gives me a good lead to start with.”

“Wait! One more, there’s a Bronwyn Evans. Traced her to some old farmland in Middle a’ Nowhere, Kansas.”

Sam’s heart nearly burst from his chest.

“... You- What?”

Ash gave Sam an unimpressed look, “Girl. Psychic. Kansas…”

Sam ripped the paper out of Ash's hand, much to the mullet-haired genius’ annoyance. 

His mind started to race. After all this time, the moment had come. 

Lover. Soulmate . Wyn...

Ever since he learned the link between the nursery fires, The Demon, and the psychic children, this was inevitable. He thought back to that night when she was pulled into the dark life of the supernatural, and she told him the secret she kept hidden from the world. 

But what the hell was she doing in Kansas? Back where their curse started… And what would she say when he came barging back into her life, bringing evil with him?

“Wait, I know that name,” Ellen spoke, sudden realization in her eyes, “Yeah, The Evans Homestead in Kansas. It’s a safehouse for hunters. Pretty new, but had a few hunters come through over the past year mention it. Folks are always sharing word of another safe haven.”

Wyn was the love of his life. He never admitted it outloud, and felt guilty even thinking it, but more so than Jess. There was a part of him that always knew their shared history meant he would see her again. They always said what they felt was like fate… maybe, it really was.

She won’t want to see me, but I’ve gotta make sure she’s safe .

“Sam, where’re you goin?” Ellen called out before he could leave. 

Sam blinked, considering his next step. Every fiber of his being was screaming to be reunited with Wyn. A fire burning white hot inside, that he had been holding off since they started the hunt for Yellow Eyes almost the full year before. But something bigger was going on. 

“Indiana… to start. I gotta find out what’s happening.” Then Sam bolted out the door. 

Ellen shook her head, picked up the phone, and dialed, “Dean. Yeah he was just here…Poor kid got all flustered ‘bout a girl named Bronwyn Evans that Ash tracked down. Friend of yours?”

“Son. Of. A Bitch!” 




The brothers took a little time to revel in the relief that Gordon Walker would be locked up for the foreseeable future. But it took a great deal of skill to slip away from the cops and make it back to where Dean left the Impala, without being arrested themselves. 

After a light scolding from Dean to never run off on him again, Sam mustered up his courage to say, “We have to go to Kansas. I think… I think it’s time we talk to Bronwyn,” Sam felt his heart flutter upon saying her name, “Ash’s research shows she’s the only one left that fits the pattern. And since all our other leads are gone, I think it might be our only option left.”

“Sammy, I gotta tell ya something,” Dean gripped the steering wheel tighter.

“What?” His brow furrowed in concern.

“Before, when Gordon had me tied up. He wouldn’t shut up about how he found out about you. And he said he knew about ‘the little sweetheart in Kansas’. I didn’t know what he meant, but now…I think you’re right. We gotta bite the bullet.” 

“Do you think Gordon sent someone after her?!” Sam exclaimed. 

Dean winced at the intensity, “Dude, chill! We don’t know what that psycho’s plans were.”

“Dean, she could be in trouble! Gordon had friends, other hunters might go after other psychics!”

“How do we even know she’s like you?” 

“All the children that fit the pattern, have shown psychic abilities! Oh God, what if,” Sam ran his hands through his hair, brain jumping to the worst case scenario, “What if Yellow Eyes has been watching her, too? Like with Andy’s brother Webber or this guy Scott Carey? They both said that ‘the man with the yellow eyes’ had been talking to them in their dreams.”

“I don’t know,” Dean certainly didn’t like the idea of Wyn going darkside, “I can’t tell you what I don’t know. But - What I do know is: We’re gonna find her. And we’re gonna get to the bottom of this I promise. Everything’s gonna be fine.”

“Just drive, Dean.”

It was a ‘Mad Max’ drive to Kansas. Knees bouncing, hands fidgeting the entire way, Sam couldn’t push down his anxiety, what almost felt like excitement. Dean repeatedly reassured his little brother. Eventually, he was able to soothe Sam with the sweet sound of The Beatles , luring Sam into some much needed sleep. 

After a few hours, Dean pulled off to a gas station, just on the other side of St. Louis. He loaded up on caffeine and was on the road again in minutes. 


Hundreds of miles later, in the late afternoon, they arrived at the address Ash had supplied. They could see the property was enormous. Small shrubs lined the front of the land adjacent to the road, up against the wrought iron fence surrounding what looked like most of the land. Upon closer inspection, Sam recognized that the shrubs, were actually Rowan saplings. He grinned impressed, knowing that plant was believed to repel evil spirits. 

A large farmhouse at the end of the long gravel driveway stood next to the East side of the fence, with a barn on the West side. They kept their distance, but they could see movement through the front window nook. Sam wanted to go to her, but Dean suggested they hang back. Wanting the element of surprise should any red flags pop up. 

They parked the Impala a little ways down the road, figuring their car would be easily recognized. When they discussed their options, Dean suggested they follow the East side of the property that would give them prime view of the house, inside and any visitors they may arrive.

From what Sam could deduce from observing the quiet house, Wyn looked safe. Happy. The brothers straightened, when they saw a car pull up driveway. A normal looking vehicle, giving no indication of something to worry about. However, Sam couldn’t stop the stabbing pain in his heart when a very handsome young man stepped out of the car. Then, it was like a kick to the jewels when Wyn answered the door smiling brightly, hugged the individual, and they went inside. 

“Breathe Sammy.” 

Sam let out a sound like a wounded animal, when the man left about an hour later. His imagination was running wild. Images of Wyn with someone else. Gathering surveillance from a distance was probably wise. 

A moment passed, then Sam spoke softly, “We gotta talk to her.”

“So - what, Sam? We just go up, knock, ‘Hey long time no see, say you haven’t been having conversations with a Demon have ya? Also, have you killed anyone with your mind lately?” Frantic incredulous tone, doing nothing to hide the annoyance with his little brother. “No, I say we lay low still. At least for now.” 

Dean looked to Sam who nodded, eyes never tearing away from the front door. “Let’s head back up the road a few miles back, regroup, and we’ll check the place out tonight. Up close and personal. Okay? She looks safe, and don’t think she’ll be going anywhere anytime soon.” 




Wyn sat upright in her bed, the late autumn air chilling her skin. Something wasn’t right. The digital clock on the bedside table read 2:00am, then she looked to the security monitor next to it. 

It was blank. Someone had cut power to the security system. This wasn’t just some dumb teenager sneaking into the old haunted farmhouse on a dare. 

With great care, she moved out of the comfort of her warm bed, and shivered feeling the cold hardwood beneath her bare feet. All she wore, a simple pair of wide leg yoga pants and her lucky AC/DC tee from Aunt Stacy. But she didn’t have time for anything more substantial. 

She pulled her sawed off shotgun from beneath her bed, and tiptoed down the hall. At the top of the stairs, she saw a tall male figure silhouetted in darkness, creep across the entryway from the kitchen into the living room. Her stomach dropped.


Of course, the intruder would be gigantically tall. She would just have to use his height against him. Slowly, she began moving down the steps. Thankfully, Wyn had learned exactly where to step to avoid any sound, and which steps squeaked no matter what. 

At the bottom, she turned to her left to check in the kitchen for anyone else. Then crept up behind the intruder. With the cocking of her shotgun, the intruder froze. As he slowly raised his hands up, she placed the gun up against his lower back.

“You got ten seconds. What the hell are you doing in my house?”

The individual quickly swung around, grabbed the barrel of the gun knocking it to the floor. On instinct, Wyn quickly elbowed the man in gut. He bent in half on a ‘Oof’, holding his side, and Wyn then took him out by sweep kicking his knees. The tall man fell over. 

Seemed that fight training she did was paying off. But in the dark, she hadn’t noticed a second man. When she felt a powerful pair of arms come from behind and wrap around her. Lifting her away from his partner in crime, she cried out. Arms pinned to her sides, Wyn struggled madly against the grip. 

“Damnit, stop wiggling!” The man that held her grunted out. Then, with all her strength she flung her head back colliding with his forehead and brought her heel up in between his legs. A weak whimper followed, and she was almost instantly released. 

“You idiots broke into the wrong damn house!”

Moving fast she elbowed the second man hard in the solar plexus, and dove across the floor grabbing her gun. The first man had risen to his hands and knees, but Wyn took the butt of the gun knocking him on the side of the head.

Once again on his back, she rolled to straddle the figure with her gun pointed directly at his face. The man groaned in pain, holding the soon-to-be bump on his head. 

And then, their eyes met, and Wyn’s heart skipped.

Sam lay on the floor, breathing heavy from the fight.

“Wyn…” they were both shaking. He swallowed, “Long time no see.” Coupled with a small shrug and hesitant side smile. Wyn was glad she wasn’t standing, it made her knees weak.

God, I missed those dimples.

“Sup Winny?” 

She turned to Dean bracing himself against the doorframe to the living room with one hand. The other hand shielding his groin from further assault. Surprise couldn’t adequately describe how Wyn felt as her gaze shifted between the brothers. 

“Uh, Wyn?” Sam’s voice unsure, “Do you mind pointing that somewhere else?”

“OH!” Wyn realized she was still straddling Sam’s waist, shotgun still aimed and at the ready, and blushed crimson. Scrambling off, she removed the ammo and put the safety on, before placing it on the bookshelf closest to her. 

Still in stunned disbelief, Wyn turned back to see the brothers staring at her. 

“Wh-what are you guys doing here?”

Sam’s face fell slightly, but he quickly masked it, “It’s kind of a long story.”


Sam and Dean sat on the sofa in front of the window nook, while Wyn hurried around at a dizzying pace. Supplying the both of them with painkillers and ice packs, as well as full glasses of water. After apologizing, mortified for hurting them. They both dismissed her concerns. After all they were the ones who broke in, plus they’d both endured worse. 

Then, Wyn took her seat in the lounge chair next to them, the three of them facing the coffee table. She had been avoiding their gaze, while getting them what they needed. But when she looked up and her eyes locked with Sam’s once more, it took her breath away. An overwhelming coalescence of feelings, it almost made her weep. In unison, they tore their eyes away.

Dean shook his head, and broke the awkward silence, by beginning to explain what they had been up to for the past year. Looking for their Dad, getting the Colt, losing the Colt… and their Dad, their hunt for the Yellow-Eyed Demon, as well as the other psychic children they believed to be linked. 

That’s when Sam meekly took over, eyes struggling to maintain contact, “That’s sorta what led us here. We found out where you lived, and with that guy getting killed and me attacked, we wanted to… make sure you were okay.”

“And… you figured the best way to do that was to break into my house in the middle of the night?” She didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but surely there was a better way to get her attention, “I figured you would come to my door at some point, but most people knock!”

Sam crestfallen, peered down to his hands clasped together, elbows resting on his knees. 

“We wanted to make sure you weren’t being watched,” Dean interjected, then softened, “And that you weren’t dangerous.”

Wyn blinked in surprise, dejected pain in her heart at the sting. But she supposed, she couldn’t blame them hearing what they had gone through.

“Because… of my abilities. To make sure I wasn’t hurting anyone.”

“Exactly. So, we’ve filled you in on our story. We’d love to hear yours. Starting with who was the guy that was here earlier?” 

Wyn was taken aback, and Sam shot a nasty glare in Dean’s direction. Dean ignored it.

“He-He,” Wyn shook her head refocusing, “he’s a client.”

“Client... Like a client ?”

She blushed deep at the insinuation, and Sam smacked Dean on the arm. Wyn hid a grin. 

“Dude!” Dean gave his brother a “what did I do” look, rolled eyes and adjusted his leather jacket with a huff.

“No, I’ve been working with Missouri Mosely in her shop, doing psychic readings. But I recently started doing private sessions at home, too. I’ve been helping him with memory therapy for a couple weeks.”

Memory therapy ?” Sam asked, his interest piqued, and not at all relieved that there wasn’t anything more going on between her and the handsome stranger.

“Yeah,” she smiled lightly, “I use my abilities to help him recover some lost memories. He was in a car accident two years ago. He couldn’t remember anything before age twenty. Doctors said he wouldn’t ever recover them, because of the brain damage. I’ve been helping reconnect the synapses to rebuild them.”

“So you got that freaky psychic mojo, too, huh?” Dean asked keenly.

“That’s putting it indelicately,” she let out a disheartened laugh.

“What am I thinking right now?” 

“That’s not,” Wyn rolled her eyes, “I’m not a clairvoyant like Missouri. I can’t ‘read’ your thoughts. I’m an Empath Psychic.”

“Empath Psychic?”

“Yeah. I can read auras or see people's memories, and feel what they feel. But that’s only through touch. I can’t hear your thoughts right now, and I can’t see the future.”

“Sam can.” 

“No, I…” Sam sighed in matching exasperation to Wyn’s earlier reaction, “I can’t hear thoughts, but I get these weird feelings and visions sometimes… usually of people about to die.”

She felt sudden sadness fill her, seeing Sam’s face describe what he saw. Her gaze conveying comfort and softness. 

“I know, Missouri told me.”

Dean looked between the two, and coughed, “So, how long you been working with her?”

“About a year. You’re, uh… You’re Dad took me to her actually.”

The twin looks of shock and confusion on their faces, told Wyn that John hadn’t shared with the boys their interactions… or what had happened to her.

“Another long story,” Wyn rose to her feet and turned to the bar in the corner, “Which I will need alcohol for.” 

While she poured some Jameson into three glasses, a good bit more for hers, Dean and Sam exchanged curious looks. Sam couldn’t read minds, but he knew Deans expression of acquiescence was saying, he was intrigued.

Wyn returned, and placed two of the glasses in front of them. “Not too much, cause of the pills.” Sam smiled with a warm feeling at her concern.

“When I left for college,” She began and instantly saw Sam’s form tense, “I didn’t really socialize a lot, but I had a few close friends. Right before I was about to graduate early, there was a fire in our house. It started in my bedroom.” Her throat tightened at the memory, and she could see Sam struggling. Hearing a mirror of what he went through at Stanford. “My friends Terrance and Tiffany died. Our roommate Meg went missing. I just heard that she was found dead a few months ago.”

The brothers gave odd looks, but she decided to leave it alone for now. 

“That fire was about a year ago. Same time as my abilities started. The headaches sucked.” Sam let out a genuine chuckle. “But, that’s when I moved back here. And… because my Dad was dying.”

Knowing she wouldn’t be able to finish if she could see their looks of pity, she lowered her gaze, fiddling with her glass. “When I was with him at the hospital, he was… pretty much gone. I was sitting with him, when he-” she took a long sip from her whisky, before continuing, “but before he w-went, he took my hand. It was like he was lucid for the first time ever, and that’s when I saw a vision. A vision of my Mom’s death, my Dad running in too late to save her… and the weird part was, my Dad knew It. He knew the Yellow-Eyed Demon. I don’t know what it means, but when the vision stopped, that’s when... he was gone,” It was still so hard to say the words of all that she had lost. Few would be able to remain upright after going through the trauma she had.

“That’s when John found me. He kinda help me reorient my life. I started helping him with research on the Demon, and he would come by once in a while, and help train me. Good thing I can handle myself in hand-to-hand pretty,” the guys let out a sound of agreement, “cause apparently, I’m not a good shot.”

“Guess, that makes me pretty lucky,” Sam smiled jokingly.

“Well, anyone can be lethal at point blank range with a shotgun. Don’t need to be a good shot for that.” 

Sam’s face quirked to the side, and Dean snorted, trying to suppress a laugh. 

“Anyway, over the past year, I started helping hunters that had worked cases with John or just some he encountered in passing. Eventually, this place started to get pretty popular for people to rest up between hunts.”

“Our friend, Ellen,” Sam interjected, “She told us. The Evans Homestead.

“Huh, is that what they’re calling it?” Wyn considered, then shrugged deciding it fit. “I also started working with Missouri, but more than that, she became my mentor. That’s why I’ve gotten so good at psychic readings. And then you guys broke into my house, and now here we are.” 

Wyn finished with a small smile, looking at the Winchesters. Startled by a sudden deja vu at the picture before her. Hiding her face once more, she stood and tied her hair in a messy bun on the top of her head to distract herself. And then noticed how cold she was. She shivered, then kneeled down to place another log on the fire.

“That’s new.”

“Huh?” she rose up.

Dean pointed, “The piercings.”

“Oh,” she reached back touching the back of her neck, fingering the four dermal piercings, “Yeah. Got ‘em when I was touring the East Coast. Ended up in New Orleans, and a hoodoo priestess could tell my abilities were growing. So, she helped me pick out some crystals that would help.”

“Crystals? Hah, never took you for a hippie,” Dean teased. 

Wyn saw the playful look on his face, but could also see his aura was tense. A cloudy blue telling her he still felt mistrust, but the bright gold underlay told her he was being open and honest. He was trying to keep the levity in the room, despite the obvious elephant threatening to stomp them to death. 

Sam’s aura was a hazy gray and deep purple. Gloom, sadness and mystery. 

“Ha-ha,” Wyn flipped the older Winchester the bird, “It helped.”

“What do they mean?” Sam asked. She turned to look at him. 

There was a still discomfort in the air, Sam and Wyn having their own private moment, before Dean coughed once again shaking them back into reality, “Um, the uh--” she tore her eyes away from the hazel eyes exuding a pained forlorn vibe, “the black one, Obsidian, is for protection from anger, anxiety, and fear. The longer I trained with Missouri, the more empathic I got. The emotions I would feel from touching people or seeing their memories was kind of overwhelming.”

“So you can feel their feelings, while you’re strollin’ down their memory lane?” Dean clarified.

“Yeah. But I can shake it after a few seconds usually. The blue one is Lapis Lazuli. For focus. It’s great if someone is trying to push down a memory they don’t want me to see. Iolite, the purple one’s my favorite. It inspires calm and peace. And Crystal Quartz is known for strengthening psychic abilities.” The brother’s eyebrows rose in tandem. “Since I got it, my abilities significantly improved. I found out, on top of experiencing people’s memories, but I could alter or remove them. It’s exhausting, though. I’ve only done that twice before. Takes some time to recover fully.”

“Holy fuck, you can wipe someone's brain? Why would you do that?”

“I don’t-it’s not like I wipe their minds completely,” she rushed urgently to explain, “The first time it was someone who had been going to therapy, but she couldn’t get over a traumatic incident from her childhood. Her entire life, and she couldn’t let it go. I… helped her move on. I took out the specifics of the memory,” Wyn shuddered at the dark image that flashed in her mind, “She remembers that something happened, but now she doesn’t have nightmares.”

“Huh…” Dean made a face like he was considering her story. Obviously, the psychic thing freaked him out. Maybe he was trying to find a reason to not be freaked. 

“Okay I gotta ask, what was the second time?”

Sam looked to Dean, then back to Wyn. She took a deep breath, “It’s weird. Some rogue hunter came to Missouri’s place. Had real problem with psychics. Luckily, Missouri had a vision the day before. Apparently, I’m on someone’s hit list. This guy found me. 

“He and his buddy got some info from a demon they were exorcising. About me. About us I guess,” her eyes flicked to Sam, then quickly bad to Dean, “He wanted to kill me. I didn’t know there were others they were after. I just removed my face and name from his memory, and gave him the memory that he had some very important business in Saskatchewan. He won’t be back anytime soon.”

Dean and Sam wore similar unhappy knowing faces, then the older asked “When was this?” 

“End of last week. I’m barely back to full strength.”

“What was the guy’s name?”

“Michael, or Mason… something like that. I think his partner’s name was Gordon. I’ve been waiting, figured he’d be coming to finish the job. Honestly, I thought that’s who had broken in...”

“Son of a Bitch!” Dean bit out, “I was right, I can’t believe that bastard.”

“Friend of yours?” she inquired confused.

“Not exactly. At least you don’t have to worry about him anymore. Sammy got the poor sap arrested.”

Wyn not knowing how to respond, looked to Sam again, then shrugged sheepishly, “Well that’s good, I guess.”

“It’s actually the other reason we came here,” Dean added, “wanted to keep an eye out for you.”

“Oh… so,” she looked between the brothers feeling slightly disappointed, “You only came because you thought someone was going to kill me, or that I might...?” She looked down in shame.

“I - we,” Sam swallowed nervously, “Didn’t want to bother you.” 

“Right,” she exhaled, nodding her head, but not sure why. 

“Oh! Before I forget, here,” She went to the bookcase pulled a thick manila folder from the locked box on the shelf, returned and handed it to Dean. “It’s all the research I put together for your Dad. Demonic patterns, history, powers. Including all the people he knew had contact with the yellow-eyed demon in the past 30 years. Everything. From before we were born, to last year in Salvation, Iowa. I kept researching… even after we had a falling out.”

"Sounds like him."

“Any idea why the Demon did all this?” Dean asked starting to flip through the pages. 

Wyn shook her head, “No idea. I have a feeling your Dad knew, but he wasn’t exactly loose-lipped about it. I told him all about my vision of Dad’s memory, but it wasn’t super clear.”

“Anything else we can use?”

“I know John talked to a professor in St. Louis, she was an expert in Zoroastrianism. Professor… Lily Matthison, I think?” 

Sam reached over to John’s journal on the coffee table, and flipped through the pages. “Got a phone number and address.”

“Let’s go!” Dean went to stand, but Wyn stopped him.

“Dean! It’s dawn!” She pointed out the window, “You guys have been up all past how many nights? You need to rest.”

“There’s a motel, we passed a ways back,” Sam suggested reservedly.

Wyn thought. Is this really a good idea? Before standing herself, “You guys will stay here.” 

They both looked surprised. Obviously, not expecting an invitation to stay after breaking in and getting their asses kicked.  

“Really, it’s not a problem, we don’t want to put you out at all.”

“Sam. It’s fine. Plus the Professor’s office hours won’t be until Monday. I don’t have any clients for the next few days, cause of the holiday, so you guys are welcome to stay.”

Sam blinked. “Holiday?”

“Yeah, it’s Thanksgiving this week,” she looked between the two of them, “seriously, you guys need a break. You can even have your own rooms, if you like.”

Dean took a moment, and thought, "How's your water pressure?"

Chapter Text

Sam stood in the hall of the spacious farm house, admiring the welcoming safe haven Wyn had created. And all on her own. The quiet morning provided him the opportunity to explore the other rooms of the home. Dean was still deep asleep, and no movement from the master bedroom told him Wyn had yet to rise.

Upstairs held five bedrooms. White wood paneling lined the walls. A full bath in the middle of the hallway, with a huge shower, and yes, phenomenal water pressure that he and Dean had already taken advantage of. He assumed there was also an attached bath to the master bedroom Wyn currently occupied.

He trekked downstairs, investigating further. There was a kitchen with a breakfast nook, as well as a dining room connected. The living room was connected to a short hallway leading back to two rooms and the back porch. 

Sam cracked open the room on the right, peeking in curiously. Inside was a small table with two chairs, a loveseat against the wall, and shelves lined with crystals and other occult objects. He spied the stack of tarot cards on the table with a light pink crystal the size of a pineapple next to it and deduced this must be the room Wyn took clients in. He closed the door gently behind him, then inspected the room across. 

When the door opened to reveal a large room with bookshelves lining each wall, Sam’s brows shot up and a soft smile graced his lips. It was a library, just like Wyn always wanted. He walked by the wood shelves, brushing his finger along the spines and reading the titles. Of course, he saw books on the supernatural, lore, and occult books, but it wouldn’t be Wyn’s library without the classics, which he spied in the bookcases in the corner with a lounge chair and end table.

A warmth spread through him at the memory of what he had always pictured. Him. Wyn. A big house with kids. Maybe with Dean running his own restaurant or auto garage close by. Now that dream seemed so faded, as if soon he might forget it entirely. Slowly, he shut the door, and made his way into the kitchen to make coffee.

It was almost midday according to the clock on the stove. A few hours of sleep was definitely better than nothing. But the pot of coffee that was brewing, was sure to be gone in a matter of minutes. A soft sound of footsteps down the stairs caught Sam’s attention and he turned. 

“Hey.” Wyn greeted with a gentle expression. Her hair pulled back into a low ponytail, wearing the same sleep clothes as earlier underneath a gray-blue robe.

“Hey…” Sam couldn’t help, but stare. Here after all these years, Wyn stood before him. Stronger, wiser, and more stunning The opportunity now to ask all the questions that swirled around his mind in their time apart.


“Huh?” She seemed pulled from her thoughts.

“Coffee,” Sam’s voice reflected a hint of hope and nervousness, “I, uh -- sorry,” he let out a disheartened laugh, “Don’t know why I’m offering you coffee in your own house.”

Nice, Sam. Good conversation starter.

Wyn was silent, but smiled softly, “It’s okay, Sam.”

“You still take it black?”

“Yeah,” A hint of pink rose on her cheeks with a small bashful smile, “you remember,” and Sam’s heart pounded. Time, distance and heartbreak, it seems, did nothing to diminish his feelings for her. He might need to re-learn how to have a normal conversation though. 




Dean stood still on the stairs, quiet as a mouse. Not at all ashamed of eavesdropping on the two idiots in the kitchen. He rubbed his hand down over his face, exhaling through pursed lips at the awkward conversation. 

It’s like they’re teenagers again. Might just have to lock them in a room together. But first he needed to have a private conversation with their hostess.

“I’m really sorry,” he heard Sam’s voice after a stretch of awkward silence, “...about your Dad.”

“Yours, too.”

It was then, Dean decided to jump to the rescue. Bounding down the stairs loudly, he entered the kitchen to see the two lovebirds looking at him, surprised at his sudden appearance. 

“Morning! Oh coffee, thanks!” He took the mug out of Sam’s hands. The mug that had been meant for Wyn. “Nice place ya got here Wyn!”

Sam glared at his brother’s smug playful smirk.

“Sammy?” Dean ignored his annoyance, and tossed the Impala’s keys through the air, “Do me a favor, go get Baby. I’ll get cookin up some grub.”

The taller Winchester sighed, looking between Dean and Wyn, then nodded.

“Be back in a bit.” 

Sam exited, leaving the other two in a precarious silence. Dean took a big gulp of the java goodness, before grabbing another mug from the cabinets. He chuckled slightly, recognizing the words on the ceramic surface: “So many books, so little time.”

Some things never change, Dean thought to himself. Then, he filled it and handed the cup to Wyn without a word.

“So, you still make a mean omelette?” Wyn asked lightening the mood, “Gotta full fridge and pantry to play with- all yours!”

Dean eyed the pantry with interest, food calling him. Plans of cheesy egg and bacon delights already formed.

“In a bit, I wanted to fill you in on something. Yesterday, you mentioned your roommate Meg? From college?”
“Yeah,” her brow furrowed, “Meg Masters, My roommate since Freshman year. Her family called a few months ago and said that she died.”
Dean nodded and sighed, “Meg Masters was possessed by a demon.”

Her jaw dropped, “Oh my God…” A shaking hand covered her mouth, the other clutching her coffee tightly.

“Meg followed us for months. Thought we lost her in Chicago, but she turned and started going after Dad’s contacts. We exorcised the evil fucker, but it had caused too much damage. When the demon left her body, she couldn’t survive.”

Her free hand fell limply to her side, “Did she… suffer?” The look of pain on her face almost made Dean break and wrap her in a hug.

“She--” his tongue darted quickly over his chapped lips, thinking carefully, “She gave us some info, but it was over fast. The real Meg didn’t feel pain for long. Poor kid said that thing had been riding her for years.”

“Years? That means--” Wyn staggered, eyes moving quickly like she was searching her memory, “She was possessed when we were at school, even before the fire!” 

“Woah - Wyn?” With her breath growing rapidly, Dean saw the young woman teetering on the edge of a meltdown and guided her to a seat at the table.

“Oh God, all the things I told her! She was my friend. I trusted her…”

The words set alarm bells off in his brain. If a demon had been possessing her friend, it could mean the demon was trying to dig for information on them, or even worse, manipulating Wyn down a path leading God knows where. 

“What did you tell her?” he asked, trying to channel Sam’s gentle puppy eyes.

“Just-- personal stuff, I didn’t say anything about all of this,” she gestured vaguely around them, “I didn’t wanna end up like Dad. It’s just - Meg was the first person I opened up to after Sam left.”

Dean blinked. “After you left. You’re the one who left him.”

Wyn avoided his gaze. It was then Dean decided enough was enough.

“Alright, gonna rip the band-aid off,” he muttered, “I don’t get it, why the hell did you hurt Sam?” Dean could feel his adrenaline rise, now finally confronting the one who broke his little brother's heart. “I thought you two were made for each other. Hell, I didn’t even find out you bailed, until I ambushed Sam at Stanford. That’s the only reason I left him alone to live his life. Cause I thought he was happy with you. You were supposed to be there for him!”

“I never wanted to hurt him,” her voice wavered.

“Then you gotta explain it to me.” 

“I can’t. Dean, I--  just trust me. Everything I did, I did to protect him.” Wyn looked at him, with glistening eyes. A look of someone who carried tremendous guilt, regret, and more than their fair share of pain. A look he was all too familiar with.

“Do you still love him?” Dean asked, needing true honesty at that moment.

Wyn peered back with a heartbreaking look, full of earnest truth, “Yes. I never stopped loving him.” The words seemed to lighten both of their burdens.

“Fine. I ain’t gonna make you tell me, but you gotta promise me something?

She looked hesitant, but sat listening. 

“Tell him what happened. You owe him that much. He’s lived too long not having control over his own life. That shit can’t fly anymore. You of all people should understand that.”

She nodded, “Fuck, I’m sick and tired of demons manipulating our lives. It feels like I can’t escape it.”

“Wyn, look at me. We’re gonna get through his. Together. No matter what, you aren’t alone in this. And I’m gonna kill the son of a bitch that did this to us. I promise.”

The woman nodded, peering back into his fierce green eyes, “I promise, too. I’ll tell Sam everything… in my own time. There’s a lot of awful, that I’ve had locked away for so long. I’ll tell him... sooner or later.”

“Hm.” Sooner if he had anything to say about it. “Now,” he rubbed his hands together, “I believe someone ordered the most delicious omelette in the world?”

Finally, Dean was graced with a genuine smile. Wyn’s eyes sparkling, “The kitchen is yours, oh Master Chef.”

Wyn sat while Dean prepped, chatting amicably now that the uncomfortable conversations were over. In that time, Dean shared more of the lighthearted parts of his adventures with Sam. Wyn hung onto every word like a lifeline pulling her back to shore.

Sam returned soon, and tossed the keys skillfully back to Dean upon re-entering the kitchen. Then, filled a cup of his own coffee before settling down at the breakfast table across from Wyn, but determinedly avoided eye contact.

“So,” Wyn spoke, comfortably sipping coffee, “you guys think you’ll be hanging around for a while? Might be nice to have someone to celebrate Thanksgiving with.” 

Dean suppressed a knowing grin at the subtle tone of ‘hopeful’ to suggestion. 

“We shouldn't stick around too long in one place. Not that we aren’t grateful--” Sam immediately looked to Wyn, “But we should probably leave tonight.”

From the stove Dean saw the flash of disappointment on Wyn’s face, before she masked the neutral attentive look. 

“I don’t know. We got a couple days to spare,” Dean spoke as he sprinkled far too much cheese on the bubbling eggs.

“Dean, you’re still a wanted man. It’ll be harder for the cops to track us down if we keep moving.”

He considered his brothers words. He wasn’t wrong. But he had no doubt Sam’s eagerness to leave had nothing to do with Dean’s run from the law. Funny considering how eager Sam was to get to Wyn, and now they were there it was like he couldn’t get away fast enough.

“Touché Sammy.”

“So what’s the plan?” Wyn’s voice clear, hiding all emotion.

“I figured we’d take another look at the research you put together for Dad, then I wanna take it by Ash at the Roadhouse - if that’s alright by you,” Sam looked dubiously towards their host.

Wyn shrugged, “No problem. Hell, if it helps us put this whole mess behind us then, all the better.”

“Then we’ll swing back by and talk to that Professor,” Dean chimed in, “might as well stop by Missouri’s too. She’d be pissed if we didn’t pop in.” Dean flicked off the flames on the stovetop, looking over his shoulder as he spoke. 

Wyn grinned at him, “Probably.”

The elder Winchester carefully plated one omelette after another, and breakfast was served. The trio sat at the table, enjoying the simple moment of sharing a meal together. The brothers savored every bite. It wasn’t often Sam and Dean were able to relish a home cooked meal. Truck stops and motels not exactly known for their magnificent kitchens. 

Dean suggested that Wyn and Sam go back over all the information she had gathered for John, while he cleaned the kitchen. But Wyn put a kibosh on alone time with Sam, by playing the host card. Stating that it wasn’t fair if Dean ended up cooking and cleaning. Knowing when to choose his battles, Dean let it slide. 

Besides, he had all day. 

Wyn and Sam seemed to settle into a tentative comfort around each other. Both, eventually, getting lost in the additional research and trading what information they could recall from their memories. Trying to connect the web of mystery, John had left behind in his wake. They both seemed significantly more at ease when Dean was in the same room. It gave them both the excuse to pretend that everything was okay. 

When it seemed like the awkward had passed. Dean took the opportunity to call the Roadhouse, giving Ellen and Ash a heads up about their plans. And just to cross all the T’s, he reached out to Bobby as well. They would need as much of their team on the same page, if they had any hope of fighting this war. 


Before they knew it, night had fallen. Wyn had changed for bed, while the boys packed. She waited silently, clutching her robe. Everytime he looked her way, Dean saw her eyes full of angst and discomfort. 

It was midnight by the time Dean started loading up the car, with the couple boxes of books and folders of research. And Dean was quite displeased. Wyn and Sam had danced around actually talking all day. Both very careful not to feed too far into the past, which of course resulted in a rather unproductive day. At least, when it came to those two clearing the air. 

Neither saw Dean cast an annoyed gaze their way, as they stood in the living room attempting a delicate “Good-bye”. Dean having offered to take care of their bags himself. 

Then, a spark of an idea lit up his eyes. He eyed the black bag by the door, gears turning. Sneakily, he grabbed Sam’s duffle by the front door and placed it out of sight, just down the hall by the stairs. Quickly, he checked to make sure the lovebirds hadn’t seen him do so, before taking his own bag out to the Impala. 

Sam took the hint and followed him outside, leaving Wyn holding the open door with a forlorn look. Then, she closed the door gently. Sam, the big idiot, just stared at the closed door, before Dean closed the trunk abruptly, jarring him from his daydream. 

“Oh, Dude,” Dean cleared his throat, “I forgot to grab your bag. Think it’s still inside.”

“Wha-?!” Sam looked at him incredulously, “I left it right by the door, how did you forget it?”

“My bad,” he shrugged with a fake apologetic look, “just go back and get it.” He opened the driver's door, wiggled his eyebrows, and slipped inside. 

Sam shook his head with his patent bitchface, before making his way back up the porch. As soon as his little brother raised his hand to knock, Dean surreptitiously started the engine. Then, he threw the car in reverse, turned around and pulled away quickly. Leaving a dusty trail behind him on the gravel driveway, with Sam calling after him loudly. 

A mischievous laugh erupted from his gut. Idiots in love need a little push in the right direction sometimes. He smirked at the ringing of his phone, Sam’s number on the display. 


“Dean - come back and get me - NOW!”

“Nah, you know what, taking all this info to Ash, it’s really just a one man job. Why don’t you stay with Wyn and, Oh, I don’t know, have hot and heavy make-up sex?”

“Seriously, Dean?!”

“You’re right. You guys should probably talk first, and sex it up later, but you do you.”

“Why are you doing this?!”

“Because I’m an amazing big brother. You’ll thank me later, Sammy.”  

“You’re such a friggin JERK!”

“You’re welcome, Bitch!”

He flipped the phone shut, with a final satisfied and boyish chuckle before spotting an appropriate cassette. Fingers nimbly removed the case and popped the classic into Baby’s stereo. Drumming the steering wheel in time with the electric guitar, he sang along, 

“I like to slip into something good, I see a young girl in the neighborhood…The way she move, I must confess - I’d like to run my hands up and down her legs...”




“Sam?” Wyn stood perplexed, upon seeing Sam still standing at the bottom of the porch steps, phone held against his ear. The tall hazel eyed adonis, turned over his shoulder, helplessly looking between his phone and her, “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, uh-- Dean just… wanted to handle the trip solo.”

“So… he’s not coming back?”

Sam’s eyes cast downward, shoulders slumped. Her heart pounded. She and Sam were going to be in her home together. Alone. 

“Oh, you’re staying… okay, that’s— sure, um…” 

Looking ashamed, Sam apologized profusely, “I’m sorry! He’s such an idiot, I can find a motel, it’s really not a problem--”

“No!” she blurted out, “Please, don’t go!” She prayed that didn’t sound as desperate as she felt. They stared at one another, both unsure of what to do next. Sam eyes slightly surprised, Wyn blushing madly. 

Wordlessly, she stepped back holding the door wide open. Taking the signal, Sam made his way back in the house. Instantly the warmth being put off from the fireplace was felt upon re-entering the home. He could see his duffle bag down the hall tucked just out of sight, and rolled his eyes sighing at Dean’s antics. 

“Guess Dean is trying to get us to talk, huh?” Wyn spoke softly, looking up at him through long lashes.

“Yeah, with the subtlety of a wrecking ball.” 

They both let out a short genuine laugh, lightening the strained tension slightly. Wyn gestured to move into the living room closer to the warmth.

“I think alcohol would be a good idea.”

“Yeah,” Sam let out a soft sound, “lots of alcohol.”


Wyn quickly poured them both a drink, and then a second when the first disappeared within seconds. They stood for a moment, gazing at each other, each wanting to say something, but coming up short. At least, Wyn was starting to feel more relaxed, despite knowing she would have to talk seriously with Sam.

“You and Dean have been busy, huh?” Wyn took a seat on the sofa. Sam followed her example and sat in the armchair adjacent. Leaving an obvious amount of space between them.

“Yeah… ever since he came to get me at Stanford, it’s been pretty much non-stop.”

Silence then stretched the air between them, soft pops of wood crackling in the fire filling the void. Only darkness was visible through the windows. Years ago they would have been able to fall into an easy conversation for hours without realizing. Now the most mundane topics seemed arduous.

“Dean told me… about Meg,” Wyn spoke the words as they came to mind. “Said she was possessed, and after you guys. That you did all you could.”

“I’m sorry. We tried to save her, but--”

“I know,” she nodded assuredly, “I know…” There was another beat of silence, “When she disappeared after the fire, I had no idea what had happened to her. I knew The Demon had something to do with it, but… at least now I know the truth. The universe must hate me. It was only a few days later that Dad died.”

Sam sighed and took a long drink from his glass, then placed it softly down, “Must’ve been hard. Going through all of that...alone.” The word hung like a painful sting in the air. Something more direct hiding behind the veil of small talk.

Wyn shrugged, “You get used to it. Being alone. But since I moved back, Missouri’s been there for me a lot.”

“That’s… great, really,” Sam nodded a tinge of vexation in his voice. And then, while not making eye contact, “Not like you could’ve found me or anything.”

Wyn sucked in a pained breath.


“I mean you made it pretty damn clear that you didn’t want anything to do with me, when you left . But you have no problem asking my Dad for help - still trying to figure that one out.”

“It wasn’t like that Sam,” She rose, turning away from him towards, and clutched her robe around her tightly. Wanting desperately to tell him. To tell him everything, but knowing all she had to give was more pain.

“Then, what was it like, huh? You were so afraid of me, this life, of the supernatural, that you ran off without so much as a warning - and yet,” he stood gesturing grandly to the room, “here you are running a freakin bed and breakfast for hunters!”

“You don’t understand what happened that night!” Wyn’s form tensed, anger beginning to rise.

“That night?” Sam scoffed, “ We agreed to runaway. You’re the one who told me to meet you at the bus station! And you just left. Do you have any idea what that did to me?”

Resentful tears welled in Wyn’s eyes, “Oh, you seemed to move on pretty quick with Jessica !” As soon as the words left her mouth she regretted them. The hurtful words feeling wrong in her mouth.

Sam’s jaw dropped and shook his head in disbelief, “What did you expect me to do Wyn? You abandoned me! What? You wanted me stay celibate and pine over you?”

“Screw you!” She snapped, “You have no idea what I went through!”

“Well I’m right here, feel free to share with the fucking class!” 

“Oh, okay, we’re doing this?” She slammed down her glass after finishing it in two gulps, and then straightened facing him off, “Fine. We’re doing this. That night. That we agreed to run away, I found out a demon was possessing my Aunt.”

Despite the fire roaring full of life, they both felt a chill. A cold harsh reality washing over them. Sam taken aback, his breath quickened. Eyes widened in shock.

“What?” His voice was meek.

“Oh yeah. Apparently, you and I were screwing up the yellow-eyed demons plans for us. Some crap about it being ‘too soon’. Wanted to isolate me, break me. So, that evil thing possessing her, locked me in the basement for months!” All the resentment she had denied herself, came up to the surface. The pain she endured, she had kept to herself for so long. 

“No…” he began shaking his head, pacing, as though his denial would undo what happened. She could almost hear his mind whirring, searching his memories for details he had long since pushed down, “No, no, no, what… what happened?!”

“End of November... Molly happened to be peeking in through the basement window. I told her to go get help. And The Demon was pissed.” Suddenly, Wyn pulled back. The memory overwhelming, “You have no idea, Sam,” her voice suddenly timid, choosing her words with care, “Told me I was going to regret it. That thing grabbed a knife, and stabbed itself... stabbed Stacy and — It smoked out of her body. I held her while she bled out…” 

The remaining truth unspoken, lingered in her mind. But she couldn’t. The memory of his dead girlfriend had been used against Sam already, she wouldn’t use the death of their child to lash out at him. 

“By the time the cops showed up, she was dead.” She choked on an anguished sob.

Hazel eyes stared back in horrified disbelief, “Oh God… Why— why didn’t you tell me?” he took a step closer, “You could have found me I would have—”

“I went to find you at Stanford!” The indignation in her voice strengthened and tears poured down her face. Words flowed from her in a frantic jumble, “After, I went to find you and you blew me off -  you never called me. I-I left a message for you, I waited, then that guy told me you had moved on. You didn’t want anything to do with me.” Heartbroken tears painted both their faces. When the other spoke they took a step closer, increasing their proximity.  

“What?! I don’t know what you’re talking about. It took me years to get over you even with -- I never… I thought you didn’t love me anymore.”

“I never stopped loving you! I still love you, you freakin’ idiot!”

In the blink of an eye, Sam swept her up in his arms holding her close, and pressed their lips together in a long overdue kiss. Her feet, high on tip-toes, Wyn felt a lightness fill her body that she hadn’t felt in years. Like a balm soothing pain, their bodies pressed together trying to eliminate all space between them.

The lovers shook, pouring out all their love for each other, moving their lips together with a needy desire. Deftly, Sam lifted her, smooth legs wrapped around his waist instinctively, and knelt down to his knees in front of the fireplace. 

Wyn’s fingers clutched Sam’s locks, as his hands pushed her robe off her shoulders. She did the same, shoving his jacket from his body with desperate haste. Their hands danced over the others skin. Such anguished passion at the feeling of finally touching their love. 

“God I’ve missed you!” Sam’s voice cracked.

Wyn let out a pained sob at the words. “I missed you so much!” 

Lips moved together, bodies pressed together tightly. Each ticking of the clock, another article of clothing was tossed haphazardly aside, until no barriers remained. The two lovers, overwhelmed, savored each solitary moment of their reunion. Not since their last night together, had either felt such adoration and fervor.

Wyn ,” Sam grunted out, as she bit his lower lip, his strong hands clenched her sides. With swift movement he laid her down on the area rug, cupping her head to soften the landing.

Blue-green eyes gazed hungrily into hazel ones matching intensity. Bare naked skin golden in the firelight, Wyn took the moment to completely take in the image that had been lost to her for so long. The love of her life looking at her, made her forget about the pain. The entire world melted away. 

Wyn’s delicate hand reached out for Sam’s member, stroking it feeling he was rock hard, “Please, Sam,” she parted her legs, “I can’t-- I can’t wait, please Sam--” Wyn cried out, feeling Sam enter her. It had been so long, she had forgotten how amazing the stretch felt.

He stilled, panting heavily. Both savoring the moment.

Pleasure. Awe. Ecstasy.

Sam’s eyes blew wide in lust, reflecting bright gold flames from the firelight. The look made her walls tighten, stirring clenched eyes and moans from Sam. 

When his eyes opened again his gaze lowered and explored observing the body below him. Her breasts and hip fuller than before, her waist curved inward, and overall more tone. Yet it was undeniably, graciously Wyn. A grown woman now before him.

“I love you.”

Tears fell from Wyn’s eyes and a grin stretched her lips wide, “Say it again.”

“I love you,” the words fell from Sam’s lips again, as he began to rock his hips. His cock thrusting gently into her. Arousal pumping through his veins.

Wyn gasped at the euphoric sensation, overcome with absolute joy, “I love you so much!”

This back and forth, call and response continued, as they moved together. Not chasing pleasure, but reveling in each other. At long last, they were joined together once more. Time melted away as the paramours lost themselves in the others embrace. 

Muscles flexed, skin glistened in the light. When Sam began to tire, still recovering from recent injuries, Wyn shifted and pressed his chest signalling what she wanted. Without completely removing herself, she situated herself on top of his hips. Sam lay breathing heavily, sweat from his exertions clinging to his skin, and stared up at her with a heavy gaze.  

Without a thought, Wyn leaned down and licked up a line on his chest, while gently scraping her nails against his ribcage. Sam moaned at the sensation, and dug his fingers into her hips. Encouraging her to move once more, which she happily did. 

Raising herself up, his length coated in her slick lubricant. She waited until just the head of his cock was within her, then thrust herself down hard. Both cried out at the deep penetration. She continued riding him with vigor, her hands propped upon his chest. Neither particularly cared about the twinge of soreness in their bodies. 

“I’m close, S-Sam I-I,” Wyn gasped out, barely able to articulate. 

Sam then shifted her slightly, so he could sit up straight with her still perfectly nestled atop him. He placed one hand behind him, propping his core up to support deep and harder thrusts. 

Wyn mimicked his position, one hand behind her, the other arm hooked behind his neck. Sweat mingled, as their brows pressed together. Sexes thrusting together in quick, powerful jerks. 

Finally, Sam moved his free hand in between them, and began vigorously rubbing her clit with his thumb. Inside, he could feel her orgasm clench and release sporadically, as the waves of climax hit her. Wyn threw her head back, mouth agape, and cried out, not stopping her motions. 

The absolute perfect picture of his love, his soulmate, his everything lost in uninhibited pleasure pushed him over the edge. His release pumped into her.


Heavy breathing began to slow, and heart rates slowly returned to normal. Wyn clung onto Sam’s strong shoulders, trying to keep herself upright. Sam stroked her flanks, a soothing gesture. Almost as if he was afraid she would disappear if his fingers ever parted from her.  

Wyn looked up at Sam blinking, emotional tears trailing gently down her cheek and over her jaw. He reached up to cup her face, and wiped away tears with his thumb. 

“You okay? I didn’t hurt you did I?” He already knew he hadn’t. Because he was feeling the same overwhelming emotions.

Wyn smiled lightly, shaking her head, “No. No, only good. Lots and lots of good.”

Dimples popped on Sam’s cheeks, “Good.”

“Ugh,” Wyn curled away from him slightly, suddenly very aware of how gross she felt, “we need a shower.”

“Yeah, probably a good idea.”

Wyn did make a move to rise, but quickly fell back, “My legs don’t work.”

Sam let out a laugh, and nodded, “I got you.”


With great care Sam carried Wyn upstairs to the sanctuary of her bedroom. He felt a sense of humble gratitude about being allowed back into her life. After not too much time they had managed to cleanse themselves while mostly keeping their hair dry. 

Per Sam’s orders, Wyn then snuggled under the warm covers, while he retrieved their clothes and his duffle from downstairs. Though the plans he had for them in the near future didn’t exactly feature clothes. 

When he returned, she was eyeing him with soft eyes. The look made his whole body warm. 

Wyn laughed, “You totally just blushed all over!”

Sam lips tightened, and his blushed deepens. Stirring more laughter from Wyn. He dropped his bag by the bathroom door, draped her robe over the chair in front of her vanity, and then flipped off the lights. 

Noticing the cold in the room, he was grateful Wyn had apparently set the fireplace going in her room earlier in the evening. He took a moment to load the flames up with fresh dry wood stacked neatly next to the stone hearth. When suddenly a thought resurfaced. 



“I wanted to ask you something about what you said earlier.”

Wyn sat up attentively, eyes wide and vulnerable. Suddenly needing closeness, Sam was instantly at her side. Taking her hands in his, and laid by her, shins pressed against one another.

“You came to find me? At Stanford?”

Wyn swallowed, “Yeah. I, uh, was afraid you would be mad at me. I wrote a letter explaining everything, in case you didn’t want to talk to me when I found you. So I tracked down your dorm, and you weren’t there.” 

“I don’t understand. What happened? You said that you spoke to a friend of mine? Who?”

“I can’t remember his name. Blond. Blue eyes. I dunno, a frat boy?”

Sam let out a laugh on a breath, “You just described a majority of the student population of Stanford.”

“So, What? You think it was just… some sick joke?”

“I don’t know... Don’t think anyone ever told me that someone came by looking for me, and I definitely never got a message from you.”

Wyn considered his words. She didn’t know what to think. The whole situation made zero sense, but in the end: Did it matter? This could be a whole new beginning for them. 

“You should know, I didn’t--” Sam swallowed, and averted his eyes to their intertwined fingers, “I didn’t move on for a long time. Buddies of mine, kept trying to set me up. I met Jess freshman year, but we didn’t start dating until the end of Sophomore year. She asked me out before, but I wasn’t… ready.”

Wyns expression grew sorrowful, “I’m so sorry, I shouldn't have--”

“You don’t need to apologize.”

“But I do, Sam. I was so heartbroken, I guess, it made it really easy for me to believe a worst case scenario.”

There was a moment of silence with only the soft crackling of the fire. 

“We’re kinda dumb aren’t we?” Sam said disarmingly. 

“Fear and self-loathing does seem to make our IQ drop.” She chuckled, idly tracing invisible lines across his chest.

“It’s just,” Sam let out a huff, “all these years we could have been together, if I hadn’t been so stupid. I can’t believe I let that demon convince me that-”

“Don’t,” Wyn shook her head and peered up, their eyes connecting, “no more regrets about the past. We found each other, and that’s all that matters.”

“I’m never letting you go again.”

Warmth filled the lover’s hearts, their breath now in tandem. 

“Will you tell me about her?” Wyn saw the look of surprised vulnerability reflected on Sam’s face. “About Jessica?... If you don’t mind talking about it, I’d like to hear about her.”

“Yeah,” Sam nodded, eyes glistening, “I’d like that.”

Chapter Text


When Sam’s eyes opened, he couldn’t be more pleased with the heavenly view before him. Wyn lay on her front with one hand tucked under the pillow, currently covered in her auburn hair fanned out wildly, the other hand tucked under her chin. A peaceful look on her face, breath passing between slightly parted lips. 

Sam's gaze shifted from the freckles lightly speckled on her shoulders to the dermal piercings on the back of her neck. Slowly, he dragged his knuckles down the delicate spine, then splayed his fingers over her creamy nude skin. Beneath his touch, her hips shifted.

“Tickles,” came the muffled response.

“Oh, good,” Sam smirked into a kiss to her shoulder, “you’re awake.”

“I am now,” her eyes blearily opened. Wyn turned her head to check the time only to frown when she spied the blank security monitor on the bedside table. “You’re totally fixing my security system, by the way.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Sam chuckled, his kisses now trailing down her side, teasing her further.

“Damn right, ‘Yes, ma’am.’ This is my house!” Wyn wiggled her hips playfully.

“By the way,” Sam allowed his hand to drift lower, to cup his large hand over her rear and squeezed lightly, “that was incredibly hot the way you took me and Dean down.”

“Yeah?” she asked with a grin.

He nodded emphatically, “Definitely, seeing you like that,” then leaned in to capture her lips in a sweet kiss, “irresistible.” 

The rest of his body was starting to wake up as well, and he pressed his increasing need against her. 

  Wyn let out a low chuckle. 

“What? No breakfast in bed? Just, ‘You’re sexy when you’re kickass’ and then wham, bam, thank you ma’am!?”

“Oh, there will be breakfast in bed after I have my way with you, then more sex,” Sam’s grin was practically predatory, and flipped her onto her back with his hands dragging down her side, “then second breakfast,” he kissed her lower tummy which made her giggle once more, but she stopped at the intense hungry look from Sam, “and then I’m going to make you cum till you beg me to stop... then, probably a nap to recooperate.” 

Wyn’s entire body shook, as his gaze drank her entire form. They had a lot of time to catch up on. 

“I, uh,” Wyn swallowed, “I don’t mind the sound of that. Just-- be careful, I’m still a little sore,” she said with a fond smile.

“Aw, was I too rough, baby?”

Sam bit his lower lip softening instantly, and lowered back down trailing kisses on her soft stomach to look up at her from her hips. 

“Then, I’ll have to be gentle.”

Intently, Sam nuzzled into the brown curls between Wyn’s legs. Her face heated, she had only been doing minimal grooming down there for quite some time. In all the frenzy, it hadn’t occurred to her the night before. Though, it seemed Sam couldn’t be bothered to notice. Then, drew his tongue around the entrance to her sex. 

Wyn cried out, and gasped. The fingers clenched the sheets tightly at her side, until Sam reached up to intertwine their fingers. Before once again, continuing in his task enjoying her dripping core. Moment by moment, his tongue explored all the ways he remembered, that would send her just to the brink of climax before pulling back. He reveled in making her feel such rapture. 

Pleased with the noises of protest, when he wouldn’t quite give her what she wanted, Sam finally pressed further, using his thumb to stimulate her clit, while he tongue-fucked her. Pushing Wyn to, then pulling her back from, her sweet climax.

Hips rolled fervently, and Wyn’s cries grew louder, near delirium. Then, Sam decided enough was enough, and pressed two fingers inside and moved them against the magic spot with careful directness, his thumb continuing to rub the tender nub.

“Come for me, Wyn,” Sam commanded in a deep voice that was enough to trigger the explosion of pleasure through her body. Her body went taught, her walls squeezing around Sam's fingers. Orgasm rippling through every bit of her. 

Wyn slowly came down for her exquisite high, and let out a joyous sigh. Then, she peered down to Sam, eyes blown and hungry. 

“Your turn.” She said, looking like a cat with cream.

However, they were interrupted by the sound of the doorbell. They both exchanged confused glances, being suddenly jolted out of their arousal. Then, a sudden look of realization washed over Wyn’s expression.

“Shit!” She lept from the bed and grabbed her robe from where Sam had placed it the night before, “Shit shit shit fuck fuckidy fuck fuck!”

“What’s wrong? Who is that?”

“They- she’s —” Wyn threw her yoga pants on, getting one leg caught before forcing it through and falling over, “Ow! She’s a special client. I completely forgot, I told them I could do an early session today,” Wyn managed to get to her feet once more then reached for the long necklace with a crystal pendant dangling on the end sitting on her dresser, “I’m so sorry, this should only be an hour, I promise!”

“Let me help you,” Sam immediately stood, going to grab his pants atop his duffle, “What can I do?” He wasn’t sure how he could help, but he wanted to offer all the same.

“Umm,” She looked around flustered, and grabbed a plain v-neck tee from the second drawer, and threw her silk house robe over her shoulders. She clenched a hand in her hair, before using the hair band around her wrist to pull it all back into a low messy bun, “I don’t... I’m not sure, gimme a sec.”

In the blink of an eye, Wyn scurried out the door and down the stairs. Sam grabbed a clean undershirt and plaid fleece from his duffle, as well as a thick pair of socks to help protect his feet from the cold wood flooring. It took him nearly a minute to think of something powerful enough to will his painfully hard erection away.

When Sam stepped into the hall he could hear Wyn speaking with someone, in what sounded like an apology for not being prepared. Once he was heading down the steps, he saw Wyn speaking with a woman who appeared to be in her early thirties with mousy brown hair, brown eyes, and an old woman looking quite frail standing next to her. 

“Susan?” The old woman’s voice was gravely, worn from a lifetime of experiences. She gazed at Wyn deductively.

“No, Mrs. Dawson. Bronwyn Evans remember? We have a session today!”

“Oh…” The expression on her face, said she didn’t in fact remember. 

“Why don’t you go on and take her back?” Wyn spoke to the younger woman, “I’ll get tea and coffee started.”

“Are you sure? It’s okay really, I understand if it's not a good time--”

“NO! It’s completely fine, just got my days a little jumbled.”

“My bad,” Sam raised his hand up meekly, “I kinda popped in unexpected.” 

All three women directed their attention to him. Wyn smiled brightly at him. The strangers gave him a curious once over, before the younger woman looked at Wyn curiously.

“Ashley, this is Sam,” Wyn guestured happily, making the introductions, “Sam, Ashley! And this is her grandmother Ethel.” 

“Nice to meet you both!”

They both reached out to shake hands. The younger woman’s eyes widened, as though she just realized the reason he was most likely there and blushed deeply. 

“Oh! I didn’t realize…”

“The canaries are jealous again!” Ethel interjected, looking very insistent. Then, she grabbed Wyn’s arm roughly, “Don’t you hear them? Damn, noisy beasts!”

“Let’s go somewhere quiet then,” the young psychic patted her hand gently, and looked to Ashley’s concerned expression, “It's alright, really. Go get Ethel comfortable.”

Ashley nodded, and escorted the elderly woman back to Wyn’s work room. Wyn then dashed into the kitchen, clearly on a mission. Sam followed.

“I’ve been seeing Ethel for a few months now, and she always wants tea during our sessions. She’ll remember that mint tea is her favorite!” Wyn informed him as she grabbed an electric kettle from the cabinet, and tea bags, “Oh, and the coffee, could you...?” 

Sam took the hint and started prepping the coffee.

“They seemed a bit surprised to see me,” he said ruefully, “Is it… okay that I’m here?”

Wyn stopped and looked up at him rather alarmed, “Of course it is! They just aren’t used to seeing me with… well anyone.” She continued working, prepping a tray with a teapot and cups with honey and milk. “Ashley’ll probably have some coffee when I send her out. She’s really nice, so don’t worry.” 

Sam nodded with a soft smile. It was interesting, seeing Wyn in work mode. When she slipped into that mindset, she was determined and exuded a confidence she didn’t normally have...well, she didn’t used to have anyway. 

So much had happened in their time apart. Wyn had certainly grown and changed as a person, yet it didn’t worry Sam. He could feel that she was still herself , just more. 

The kettle began to whistle, and then Wyn switched it off, pouring the steaming water into the teapot. 

“Alright, we’re good to go,” she announced picking up the tray, “I’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere!” Wyn teased, but there was a hint of genuine concern in her voice.

“Not even demons could drag me away.”

Both looked at one another with a knowing gaze. Knowing despite their mutual desire to be together, they would have all the alone time they could want soon enough. Then she darted back to her work space.

After another moment, Sam heard voices coming from the back room, then a click of the door. When the woman named Ashley appeared back in the living room, Sam smiled sheepishly.

“Coffee’s ready if you want, I can get you some.”

“Actually,” the woman peered at him with a calculative look, “if you don’t mind, I could use a hand getting some things from the car?”

He shrugged in acquiescence. Then, followed her outside, only after slipping on his jacket and shoes. He couldn’t be bothered to tie them. 

Ashley unlocked her modest Camry, and opened the door to the back seat and grabbed something. Then, she turned and held out two large casserole dishes. 

“For Bronwyn, for Thanksgiving,” Ashely explained, “I know she’s been busy lately, and she mentioned she’d be spending the holidays alone. I just figured…” she trailed off feebly. Sam couldn’t help, but smile.

“That’s an extremely thoughtful gesture. Wyn’ll appreciate it, I’m sure.”

Sam extended his arms to take the food containers, and didn’t miss the look on the woman’s face. The same look she had since she first laid eyes on him. She was holding her tongue, a question itching it’s way to the surface. 

“Are you one of them?” she asked abruptly, as she turned to grab an insulated bag of what Sam assumed was more food. 

“One of them?”

“You— I’m sorry I just thought... Well, since you seemed so close to Bronwyn I thought you knew about…”

“I, uh,” Sam thought for a moment, choosing his words carefully, “Yes. I know Wyn’s for real. Psychically speaking.”

The woman’s shoulders lowered in relief, “I never thought stuff like this was real. That all those people were just cheating frauds. But I went to her and that other psychic’s shop with a friend of mine for a laugh, and Bronwyn’s reading was so spot on. And I kept going, and I wondered if she might be able to do … more.”

Sam listened intently, as she stacked multiple containers of tupperware on top of the stack in his arms. It was a part of Wyn’s life he knew next to nothing about. And he wanted to change that.

“Missouri must have heard me thinking about it… Granny’s been sick for a while. Dementia. Doctors said it was progressing, that she only had a couple months. Pop-Pop always took care of her, and when he passed away two years ago, we found out that he had been keeping her illness from us. Afterwards, doctors kept suggesting hospice…

“Then, it was like a miracle. After the first session she started remembering things she had forgotten from years ago. It’s not a permanent fix, but,” she shrugged, “for at least a week or so at a time, I get her back.”

The car now empty, they made their way back into the house. And immediately, Ashely went to the kitchen and started stuffing the homemade goodies into the fridge.

Sam considered the woman’s story. “So what do your grandmother's sessions usually entail?”

“Bronwyn explained it once to me,” she replied, storing the final container away, “but of course I didn’t really understand it. Something about using the natural energy between them to build little bridges to her memories. Synapses, temporal lobe, science ya-da ya-da. I barely made it through Bio 101, so it was mostly over my head.” 

Sam let out a soft laugh at the woman’s playful smirk. 

“Today, all the family is coming, and I just wanted her to have a day where she actually recognizes the people that love her. It might be the last time…”

Sam nodded emphatically, but said nothing. He knew nothing he could say would be at all helpful, and wasn’t truly necessary. 

“I just hate that I can’t tell people what an angel Bronwyn’s been. As far as my family knows I’ve been taking Granny to ‘experimental treatment sessions that aid with symptoms only’.”

That Sam could understand. Especially, considering there had already been an attempt on Wyn’s life, simply because a hunter knew about her abilities. It was for the best, that as many people as possible remained in the dark. 

“Speaking of which,” Ashley pulled out an envelope from her coat and held it out for Sam. “Give her this after we’ve left. Otherwise, she won’t take it.”

Sam took the envelope recognizing the feel of a thick stack of cash inside. His brows raised in surprise.

Ashley just shook her head with exasperation, “She hasn’t accepted payment for over a month. Not sure why, but she and Granny must have bonded over a special session, and since then I haven’t even been able to force her to take it.”

“And you think I’ll be able to change Wyn’s mind?”

“Well,” Ashley passed by him making her way to the living room, “when she introduced you it was the first time I’d seen her truly happy! If anyone could get that stubborn lady to change her mind I’d wager it’s you.

Sam pauses looking after the woman. Yeah, they definitely had a lot of lost time to make up for. 




Wyn sighed out heavily, suddenly quite exhausted. She slumped back into her chair as Ethel blinked, coming out of her trance. A fresh look of recognition on her face. 

“Ah, Bronwyn!”

“How ya doing there Ethel?”

“Oh, better now, thank you. Oh my,” the old woman suddenly looked quite concerned, “You don’t seem so well.” 

“I’m alright really, just tired. Didn’t get much sleep.”

Ethel gave a knowing smirk as she reached for the still hot teapot and began pouring the steaming water. “Mhm. I take it you took that one out there for a ride, did you?”

Wyn burst out laughing, and wiped her eyes before composing herself, “That’s Sam. He’s… well--”

“He’s your One?”

“He is.”

The two women looked into each other's eyes, no explanation needed. After all, Wyn had just helped her relive the strongest memories of her lost love. 

It wasn’t something most would understand, but Wyn could see and feel like what Ethel and her husband Charles had, was rare and otherworldly… kind of like her and Sam. She wasn’t sure why she knew, but she knew that kind of love wasn’t as common and many would wish. Something about two souls being so perfectly matched that they sang together in perfect harmony.

“I see,” Ethel scooped a small spoonful of honey from the bowl and stirred it into her cup, “that kind of love is hard fought. Not easy.”

“No, it isn’t,” Wyn agreed softly, and reached for her own tea. 

“Every love has their own battles they must fight through. For Charles and I, it was being separated by the war, then by my own mind,” she gestured with a shaky hand to her temple. “Have you two had yours yet?”

Wyn thought for a beat, “I think we’re still fighting it. I’m afraid it might be a while before we’re done fighting.” 

“Well, don’t stop. In the end, you’re fighting for each other. And that’s the most pure thing in the world.”

Wyn smiled. It was always easy to tell when Ethel turned a corner in their sessions. She always got much more talkative. The young psychic took a deep drink, then cleared her throat. 

“Alright, whaddya say we get you in tip top shape for those great-grandkids!” 

The woman smiled warmly, and placed her own cup down, straightened and closed her eyes. Wyn took a deep soothing breath and raised her hands and placed them carefully against both of Ethel’s temples.




Ashley sat on the sofa in the living room, nearly done with her second cup of coffee. Sam had managed pleasant conversation for a while, before they fell into a comfortable silence. Ashely had picked up a book laying on the coffee table and started reading. 

Sam took the opportunity to excuse himself, and stepped onto the front porch and pulled out his cell. He pulled up recent calls, and dialed the number he had recently dialed a dozen times.

The tone rang, rang and rang… eventually, it went to voicemail.


“You’ve reached Ava! I’m going crazy planning this wedding, so don't bother me unless it’s important,” she laughed, “I can’t believe I’m getting married! Eeeiii! Leave a message!”


The message ended with a beep, and Sam frowned.

“Hey Ava, sorry to miss you… again. Things got a little unexpectedly complicated. But I wanted to let you know I’m safe, and wanted to check on you. I know all of this can be a lot to handle, and just... give me a call back. Let me know everything’s good. Hope you managed to finish the wedding invites…”

Sam ended the call brows still drawn together. A feeling of unease settled in his gut. For the time being he pushed his anxiety aside, and returned inside to the warmth of the home. Once he had shut the door and placed his coat back on the coat rack, Wyn and Ethel emerged from the back room. When his eyes met the elder woman’s, he knew in an instant she was different.

“Well, Hello! You must be Sam!” She stepped forward slowly, physically still hobbled despite the fresh sharpness to her mind. “I’m Ethel Dawson. So very nice to meet you!”

Sam blinked in mild astonishment. Not surprised that Wyn was able to help, but at the night and day distinction.

He smiled, “A pleasure to meet you Mrs. Dawson. I’m Sam Winchester,” and shook the woman’s hand warmly. 

As the two Dawson women prepared to leave, Wyn scolded Ashley for going through so much trouble to make all that food. That she really didn’t have to, to which of course Ashley made a witty quip about how she knew Wyn’s skills were limited mostly to baking. That made Sam laugh, earning a mock glare from his love. 

When Ethel announced she was ready to return home, Sam took the initiative to offer to escort her to the car. Wyn and Ashley followed close behind, but he didn’t miss the distinct look of love on Wyn’s face. 

They reached the car. Sam turned and thanked Ashley for the food, and she opened her arms ready for a hug. Sam conceded. Ethel took the chance to pull Wyn into a hug, and whispered something in her ear. Earning a light chuckle from Wyn. 

Finally, Sam and Wyn stood on the porch waving as the women drove away, tires crunching down the driveway.

“What did she say to you?” Sam asked, closing the door behind them. 

“She said to be careful with you.” 

He titled his head to the side, very confused. 

“Mountain climbing can be dangerous,” Wyn quoted. 

Sam laughed. It was then that Wyn let out a big yawn. The lack of sleep and the work of the day catching up to her. 

“You tired?” He asked wrapping his arms around her from behind and held her close to his chest.

“Yeah… I’m always wiped after sessions like this.”

“You want to go lie down?”

Wyn nodded sleepily, and turned to head upstairs, with Sam staying behind, “I be right up, gotta get some food in you before you sleep.”

“Right. Food. God, I fucking love you,” Wyn spoke sleepily, before turning back up the stairs, obviously sleep catching up with her enough she had completely forgotten she hadn’t eaten. 

From the kitchen, he prepped two of the ready made plates that Ashley had stored in the fridge. It was easy enough, they just needed to be warmed up. Once that was ready, he was quite proud he found a tray, so he could bring up water for Wyn as well. Then, carefully made his way up the steps. 

“You know I was kidding about breakfast in bed, right?”

“I wasn’t,” Sam grinned, and shut the bedroom door with his foot and brought the meal to Wyn. Quietly, they shared the humble, yet filling meal. Simply enjoying the proximity of the other. They both were struck with the reminder of similar scenes from their teenage years. Suddenly, the time apart seemed like nothing. 

“You know, what you did for Ethel was incredible.”

Wyn blinked up at him slowly, then looked away sheepishly. “I don’t know about that. I mean, at least I can do something good with this,” she tapped her head lightly, “even if it does still scare me at times…” She tossed the crusts of a turkey sandwich onto her plate, now done with the filling meal.

“Wyn,” Sam took a hand lightly, “I don’t know what our abilities mean, or why we even have them, and it’s scared me, too, but -- seeing what you can do, seeing how you help people that have nowhere else to turn -- it makes me feel… like there’s hope, I guess. Makes me think there’s hope for me. For us.”

A warmth spread through both of them at the soft affection shared. 

“By the way,” Sam’s face shifted playfully, “Ashley gave me an envelope of what felt a substantial amount of money.”

Wyn’s eyes looked confused, then realization dawned on her, then frustration, then finally relinquished power to do anything about it now, “We’re so talking about this after a nap.”

After they were both finished, Sam made sure the plates were set to the side, and saw the wood pile next to the fireplace was low. Making a mental note to bring in more for Wyn later, he tossed some logs into the fire.Then, snuggled behind Wyn who had fallen asleep as soon as she removed her layers, wanting to feel Sam against her. He wasn’t as tired as she, but he still managed to sleep a bit.


When Sam’s eyes blinked open once more, he turned to check the time. He had managed to get a half hour of shut eye. Wyn was still in a deep slumber. Carefully, he extracted himself from their tangle of limbs. 

Something stirred his memory again. He pulled on a pair of sweatpants and a hoodie from his duffle. Then, he silently made his way to the door that led to the hallway. Sam wanted to make this call in private without waking Wyn.

Flipping open his phone, Sam dialed. It rang only twice before there was an answer.  

“Sooo, you finally lost your v-card or what?” Came the response on the other end of the line. A surprisingly immature sound from the twenty-seven year old big brother. 

“Dude shut up,” Sam grinned as he made his way downstairs. 

“Little baby bro all grown up!” Dean’s voice laced with mock emotion.

“You’re ridiculous,” he shook his head good naturedly.

“You love it. How’s Wyn?”

“Good, she’s taking a nap right now.”

“Wear her out did ya? Atta boy!” 

Sam scoffed, “You done?”

“Eh, for now, but I’ve got more!”

“No doubt,” Sam’s voice shifted, “I actually have a favor to ask.”

“What’s up?”

“That psychic girl, Ava? She still hasn’t called me back. I’ve got a weird feeling…”

“Like psychic weird feeling, or truck stop chili surprise weird feeling?”

“Dean-” he scolded.

“Alright, I get ya Sammy, text me her address. Just left The Roadhouse, and now I’m on my way to Bobby’s. He picked up wind of a case. We can swing by Ava’s on the way.”

“Alright, thanks. Appreciate it man.”

“Hey, don’t worry bout it. You just relax and enjoy all the make-up sex. But be sure to hydrate, ya know, cause-”

Sam flicked the phone shut, rolled his eyes, not actually annoyed and texted Dean the address. In fact, it was nice to hear Dean so playful and optimistic. The whole thing with what their Dad told him before he died, had really made things difficult for them. 

Deciding to make the most of his time, Sam searched out the door leading into the garage. After finding the appropriate light switch, he examined the space properly. He saw Wyn’s car, a simple Honda sedan with a bicycle up against the wall. Then, on the opposite side, there was an axe, a rake, and a snow shovel on the wall, a riding lawnmower, a leaf blower and a small workbench surrounded by bags of mulch and rock salt, with a large freezer next to it. 

Upon the wood countertop, Sam found a new looking toolbox with an “Ah-ha!” Wyn had requested, or rather ordered, he fix her security system. Only fair, seeing how he was the one who cut the wires in the first place. He let out a silent thank-you when he found all the needed tools, work gloves, and extra wires in the tool kit. It hadn’t been used a lot, but it gave him an odd sense of comfort that Wyn had bought something to be self-reliant. 


It only took about twenty minutes, before Sam was able to replace the wires on the security system. Wyn would need to reset the system herself later, but he smiled happily at his success. For the first time in a while, he had actually fixed something that wasn’t helping Dean with the Impala. 

After he had returned the tools to their spot safely, he returned outside to a surprisingly large pile of wood he saw along the side of the house. A few trips later he had managed to replace the wood stock in the two fireplaces downstairs, and carted a large double armful upstairs. 

When Sam re-entered the master bedroom, the bed was empty, but there was the sound of the shower coming from the bathroom. Wyn must have woken, and wanted to freshen up. 

Sam winced guiltily, and hoped he hadn’t disturbed her sleep. Then, quickly brushed that off and smiled at the thought of showering with Wyn again. 

He placed the wood in the pile next to the fireplace and stripped his clothes. Dropping the discarded hoodie and sweatpants next to his side of the bed, before stepping into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.

Warm steam filled the air, and he could hear Wyn lightly humming. Then, he pulled back the shower door to get in and saw blue eyes and a bright smile aimed his direction. 

“Well, hello there!” Wyn grinned playfully, nibbling her lower lip.

Sam quickly stepped into the warm spray of water, and closed the glass door to keep as much of the heat in with them. He eyed the ledge on the side wall of the shower with intent of possibility, before stepping under the wide spray of the water fully.

“I woke you,” he said with soft regret.

“I’d rather be awake,” Wyn replied simply, moving a soapy loofa down the length of her torso. The sight of her full breasts and fair skin, flushed from the warmth of the shower with suds all over her skin, got Sam’s blood pumping. 

Sam shook, wanting her so badly, but needed to clear something up first.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course,” Wyn paused to turn and listened. A light look of concern in her eyes. 

“I know that when we were together, before... We just used condoms. So… are you on the pill now?” Sam asked awkwardly.

Wyn looked like she was holding back a reaction, but then she simply breathed and smiled. “It’s okay Sam. We had sex, you deserve to know what birth control I use. We are adults.”

Sam let out a light laugh, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly, “Yeah, Guess you’re right.”

“A few years ago, I got an IUD put in. It’s like a little copper t-shaped thing inside,” she patted her lower belly lightly, “supposed to be good for like ten years or something.”

“Oh,” Sam lips turned thoughtfully, “Huh. Cool, I didn’t know that was really a thing.”

Wyn shrugged, “Science right?” and took a shaky breath. 

“That’s good. I mean, cause the last thing I want is to bring a kid into the picture.”

“Right,” she nodded. 

“Hey,” Sam’s head tilted to the side, noticing the shift in her mood, “You alright?” He turned her to face him, and took her hands in his. “I didn’t mean it that way,” Sam swallowed, then looked into her eyes, “I didn’t mean that I don’t want kids with you… I do.” His cheeks pinked slightly, “I thought about it a lot actually. Just... not right now.”

Wyn swallowed and nodded quickly. “I know, Sam… I know,” she whispered the last bit, before pressing their lips together lightly. Tenderly, Sam returned the kiss and sighed out.

The two moved their lips, in a slowly building intensity. Wyn let out a small noise that sent a sensation of need shooting through Sam’s body.

With a soft look of want, Wyn took her loofa and began moving it across Sam’s chest leaving behind a trail of suds behind. He let his eyes fall, enjoying the intimate simple moment. Her movements continued down his arms, around his back then finally by the time Sam’s member was hard, and flushed red she took him her in her slick hand. 

A groan rumbled from his chest, the sound reverberating slightly against the tile. She continued, stroking in a loose grip the soap lubricated her movements. When he felt the tell-tale flutter in his lower stomach, Sam grabbed her and pulled her flush against his chest, his growing need pressing against her lower stomach and kissed her. 

The hot water fell down upon them and their lips danced in feverish desire. No matter how sex was for them, be it slow, fast, hard, gentle, intimate or fun, they both felt a deep level of intensity that compared to nothing else in the world. A sensation that thrummed through their entire beings, like a magnet pulling them together.

Sam allowed his hands to hold her by the hips close, and run through the soapy bubbles, running down her back from her shampoo. Wyn raised herself on her tip-toes to kiss him easier when Sam felt his cock press between her legs, and he choked out a grunt. 

Wyn had shaved. 

Down there. He hadn’t noticed when he first got in the shower. He raised her ip

“Fuck …” his hips thrust instinctly moving between her slick thighs pressed tightly together, but then pulled back, trying to stave off his climax.

More than anything, he wanted to feel her again. From the soft creamy feel of her skin, to the uninhibited way she would fall into his arms. To feel the slick tight heat of being inside her.

“Ya know for a smart guy, it’s pretty dumb to have the birth control coversation after barebacking the girl,” Wyn teased, “But I can understand, we were a little distracted,” Wyn took his earlobe, and gently sucked, rolling it between her teeth, “I think we have some unfinished business.”

Sam swallowed. “Yeah, we do.” A memory of them in high school attempting shower sex, and getting injured in the process was enough to make him want to take this to the bedroom. 

Quickly, they both rinsed all the soap from their bodies. Then, he reached behind Wyn to turn off the stream of water, and moved with haste to get out of the shower. Sam didn’t waste any time, and scooped her up bridal style to carry her back into the bedroom. 

“Wait! Grab a towel to lay down,” she insisted

Sam grinned, but grabbed a towel from the hook all the same. He walked them carefully to the bedroom, threw the towel on the bed haphazardly. Good enough , he thought and roughly dropped her on the soft bed and stood at the foot of her bed positioned between her parted thighs.

“How’re you feelin?” Sam asked, finger gently tracing around her sex. “Still sore?”

Wyn shook her head, and her breath upticked at the look in Sam's eyes.

“Remember what I told you earlier?”

“Hmm…” Wyn placed her finger to her chin mock thoughtfully, “We already took a nap,” Her eyes shifted innocently, “Is it time for second breakfast?” 

Teasingly, Wyn sucked on her finger.

“I was kinda thinking,” Sam lifted her legs then spread them wide, “we just skip to the part where I make you cum until you beg me to stop.”

Wyn felt herself get wetter at the thought. 

“Let’s see,” Sam teased her outer lips, warm fingertips tracing the sensitive skin, “I think our record was three in one day,” his eyes locked with hers, “Think we can double it?”

“Wha-?!” Wyn exclaimed, and propped herself up by her forearms and looked at him with hesitant awe. He couldn’t be serious, “I-I’ve never - I don’t even know if I---”

“You can. You’re already one down from this morning,” Sam’s gaze was intense and all consuming, “If it gets too much say ‘Holy Water’.” And with that he dropped to his knees and dove in. Sloppily eating out her pussy.

“Fuuuck, Sam!” She threw her head back, and spread her legs even further apart holding them back with her hands. 

Sam took full advantage of the smooth canvas he had to work with. Tongue and lips dancing across every bit of her exposed entrance. Pulling the outer lips with his own, sucking before releasing them, pink and puffy. He flicked his gaze up quickly, seeing Wyn writhing with her fingers lightly playing with one of her nipples. 

Sam smirked, ‘Make Wyn climax from playing with her breasts’ just made his list. But for now, he new one of the sure fire ways to get her off fast. Forcefully, he rubbed his tongue against her pink clit, undulating pressure with rhythm. 

A gasp forced Wyn’s mouth into a perfect ‘O’ giving Sam even more ideas for later. Flushed skin lay before him already showing evidence of exertion. He used his large hands to spread her lips open wide, exposing everything for him to enjoy. Wyn moaned out, missing his previous actions, but he wanted to commit this perfect image to memory. Wet pussy, red and wanting, pulsed. Dripped out a slickness that trickled from her entrance down to her ass.

“So Goddamn perfect,” and speared his tongue into her wet heat. 

Wyn cried out and her body shook, then he rubbed fervently against the nub, already puffy and abused. She rocked back and forth clutching his long hair roughly and riding her hips into his mouth. Pure ecstasy pumping through her.

Sam’s movements didn’t deter, even as the waves of her second orgasm waned and he only paused to say, “That’s two,” with a smirk, and continued to eat her out while thumbing her clit as fiercely as before. 

Utterly convinced she was going to explode, Wyn just clutched Sam’s hair roughly with one hand and held herself up with the other. Her chest rose and fell in sharp rapid breaths, and her skin felt like it was on fire. They had barely begun, but the thought of what Sam had planned for them was already sending her into a wanton frenzy. 

In her mind, she knew what Sam had said, his suggestion to see how many times she could… it was all part of their game. But she wanted to do it. She wanted to prove to Sam she could do it for him. Whatever he wanted, whatever he asks, she wanted to give it to him. That’s why despite the raw feeling of almost too much, she pushed through. Wanting to experience every iota of pleasure he could give her. 

Wyn’s entire body shook and she writhed on the bed, limbs clenching and moving with little control from her. A whine sounded from her at the over stimulation, and Sam rose up and leaned forward to press their lips together in a desperate display of adoration. Two fingers on his right hand replaced his tongue between her wet folds, curving into a come hither motion to stimulate inside right behind her clit.

Sam !”

Sam hooked his left hand behind her neck careful of the dermal piercings, and brought their foreheads together. Wyn clung to him for dear life “I know, baby, I know. It’s a lot. Feels too much. But this is so fucking hot and you are perfect and gorgeous and mine,” the words flowing from his perfect lips with her juices shiny on his lips, sent a shiver over her skin, “I love you. I love you. I want you to cum for me Wyn, I want you to scream.” 

She did. 

Wyn’s spine curved and taught like a bow, her orgasm hit her powerfully. Heat and vibration bursting from her sex to the end of every vein. Her walls clenched tightly around his fingers, leaning into his stimulation. And for the first time in her life, Wyn cried out as her own ejaculate squirted out speckling Sam’s torso in a few spurts. 

Sam leaned back in surprise, and looked down where he could still feel her orgasm pulsing. Fluid dripped her entrance, her slick arousal copious, and clear liquid from her climax trickled down the lines of his abs. 

Wyn looked up at him in overwhelmed shock. 

“Oh my -- Holy crap that was… I’ve never done that before,” Wyn blushed suddenly, feeling shame. It hadn’t been an awful lot, but it had gotten on Sam. Her juices dripped from his fingers, and down his torso. Dribbling into the dark thatch of hair just below his hips. 

Her blue eyes peered up with exposed vulnerability to Sam’s hazel orbs, color barely visibly surrounding deep pools of black. Wet fingers removed from her pussy rose, and he took his middle and ring finger between his lips and sucked. His eyes fluttered shut and released a moan as the flavor of her spread across his tongue.

The hand fell, and he looked down at her once more. 


A sound came from Wyn that certainly wasn’t a whimper, thank you very much. And Sam knelt forward, moving himself above her onto the bed. His strong arms braced on either side of her head, and he leaned his neck lower. She raised up to meet their lips together in a kiss of sigh and wonder. 

“That was so Goddamn hot,” Sam groaned, rolling his hips against her front.

The thought of taking a normally aroused Sam gave her pause in this state, considering he hadn’t had an opportunity to get off as far as she knew, made it even worse. 

“I wanna taste you,” she reached down between them, and started squeezing lightly, “I want you in my mouth.” 

Hair shook in his eyes as he nodded his head quickly, then flipped over to lie down on his back, and moved up to have a few pillows propped behind his upper back. With a powerful look, Sam locked his hands behind his head, and spread his legs open slightly. The invitation felt compulsory. 

Wyn shifted herself into the best position, and tucked her still damp hair over her shoulder, then leaned forward to take the top of his member angry looking and pearling pre-cum from the slit, between her lips and sucked lightly. The slightly bitter taste exploding across her taste buds. 

Sam sighed out in encouragement, letting his love explore and enjoy. Wyn moved her head up and down lavishing much deserved attention on his poor neglected cock. She held the base with her hand, gently squeezing and thrusting the lower part and moved her tongue along the top. But she wanted to take her time. 

To give Sam as much pleasure as he gave her, to prove to him she savored these moments as much as he. Her lips stretched wide around this thick length, saliva dribbling down aiding the movements of her hands. When she looked up at him through lidded eyes, she pulled back to breathe, and a line of spit stretched from her pink swollen lips to the head of his cock. 

The sight made Sam groan out. An animalistic sound that resonated to her core. 

“Fuck - not gonna last,” Sam’s voice was wrecked. 

Without another beat, Wyn continued in earnest, cheeks pulled in as she sucked and bobbed her head. Massaging the underside with her tongue, while continuing to pump the lower half with her hand, now slick from her mouth. With time, Sam’s hips started to rise and fall, matching her movements in perfect tandem. 

With each thrust, his length hit the back of her throat, and she forced back the gag reflex as much as she could. 

“Gonna cum!” Sam managed, Wyn pulled back and pumped his length fervently. Then, the rock hard member shot out three long strings of cum, coating her hand and his cock, as well as mixing in with Wyn’s fluid on his stomach. The impressive length lessened slightly, but Sam stayed mostly erect. 

Seemed Sam was serious about making this last.

Sam gasped in deep breaths coming down from his peak. A feeling of gentle warmth spread through Wyn, seeing the way her lover was. Free and uninhibited. 

Wyn raised her fingers, locked eyes with Sam, and slowly licked his seed from each appendage. He watched in a lazy haze, still waiting to recover for the next round. Then, before she could finish, he took her by the wrist, and pulled gently. 

With a little rearrangement, Sam sat up a bit more, and brought Wyn to sit on his lap, her back leaning against his chest. His muscular arms caged her in, after lowering her hands to his cock still covered in cum, until Wyn got the idea. She took him in her hands, and started to slide her wet pussy along the hot, slick length. 

“Yeah, that’s it,” Sam whispered in her ear, as her hips started to move back and forth. “Use my cock, baby,” he trailed kisses down her neck to her shoulder, then sucked hard and long leaving behind a very obvious blue mark.

Wyn took a bit to find the right rhythm that made her feel good and also started to increase Sam’s recovery time. Slowly, she shifted her sex forward, feeling the slickness slide between her outer lips. The dual stimulation against her clit and entrance, made her breath in short quick gasps. 

Shifting back, she felt the coarse hair press against her rear, but unmistakably the effect of multiple releases had spread to the cleavage of her ass and slid against his cock also. Which made her face even redder at the taboo feeling. A mix of their arousals aiding her movements, the thought made her feel absolutely salacious and debauched. 

“I want you, please, Sam. I want it.”

“Not yet,” he chuckled. Then he ran his hands up her sides, across her stomach, and up to take her breasts in both hands. His fingers still coated in ejaculate, Sam with determination pinched her nipples, rolling them gently with the lubricant. 

“Yes!” Wyn’s head fell back against Sam’s shoulder at the fresh sensation. Sam tweaked and pulled and twisted her nipples as she continued pleasuring herself with his cock. But he was keeping the pressure fairly light. It wasn’t long before Wyn was begging, “ Harder .” 

Moans sounded from the both of them, so completely lost in each other. Reveling in the absolute escastsy. 

“Sam, please, I need--”

“One more,” Sam pinched harder with his right, and reached down to vigorously rub her clit, “One more and I’ll fuck you so good. You can do it.”

Stars exploded behind her eyes, as Wyn once more came undone. 

“Four,” Sam uttered, holding her close to him. Her mind soared into the stratosphere. She wasn’t even fully aware as Sam adjusted them. Briefly the words he told her at the beginning floated in her mind, but she was determined. He moved her forward onto all fours, and at long last she felt him enter her needy cunt. 

“OH GOD YES!” Wyn screamed, and immediately began forcing her hips to meet his thrusts. The angle of penetration, essentially kept her climax rolling. Delirious pleasure took over. With reckless abandon, Sam thrust madly into his love. High off the knowledge and the abundance of slick, and tender heat engulfing his member was because of him. He made her feel that way. Pounding deeply into her tight warmth, pulsing around him with each powerful thrust. 

“Oh, yes,” Wyn panted madly, fucking back onto his cock in a frenzy, “feel so good. So big. Filling up my pussy. Want it so bad. Oh fuck --”

“Jesus, Wyn!”

Sam’s body fell forward, draping his frame over Wyn’s. He adjusted his legs a little wider, and placed his hands over hers intertwining their fingers as he resumed his brutal place. Sweat dripped down hot skin. Raw intense sensation was nearly overwhelming, as the two felt the final crest approaching. 

They didn’t cry out their impending release. Each feeling the other close once more. Pounding into her again, again and again. Until like a crack in reality itself, sound went away, and Wyn and Sam felt the tsunami of orgasms hit them. Without hesitation, Wyn reached back and placed her hand to the side of Sam’s face, and opened her mind. 

In an instant, the doors between their minds opened, and she shared the feeling of her climax with him, as she felt his alongside her own. Sam jerked in silent surprise, but melted into the feeling with his paramour. Pure and absolute.

Both bodies collapsed onto the comforter of the large bed. Sam rolled to the side, so as not to squish Wyn under his weight. Wyn lay in a loopy sex drunk fog. He moved to face her, lying by her side. 

“You okay?” Sam asked with an exhausted grin.

Wyn nodded, snuggling into his embrace. She felt Sam’s release start to leak from her entrance, but couldn’t be bothered to deal with the mess she knew they made.

“Ya know,” Sam spoke slowly, “That was only five.”

Wyn opened her eyes to glare at his teasing. He smirked back impishly. Joy and happy and love and play radiated from his aura. She loved this man.

“Holy Water." She replied.

Number six would just have to wait, until after tons and tons of food.


Chapter Text

Never Say Goodbye


It was a fortunate circumstance there was plenty of food already prepared in the refrigerator, because Wyn and Sam were positively ravenous. After quickly rinsing themselves of the various fluids on their bodies, Wyn put her fluffy robe on, not bothering with clothes. Sam opted for just his sweatpants, since between the fireplaces going in full force the past couple days, and the central heating pumping through the house, it made the air quite warm and comfortable.

When they both made it downstairs, they immediately downed two glasses of water each. Turns out a marathon sex session could make one thirsty. 

Then Sam pulled out a tupperware container of turkey slices, and a casserole dish with green bean casserole. Wyn put together a turkey sandwich for both of them with some of the homemade stuffing Ashley had supplied, and a bit of cranberry sauce on top for extra flavor. 

Enjoying their meal in the living room, Wyn flipped on the TV on the wall to a History Channel documentary on Ancient Greece. They sat watching the news, eating their food, just enjoying the close proximity. One part of their body was constantly touching the other. Neither of them were willing to separate more than necessary.


As they continued to recharge their batteries, Sam sent a quick text to Dean checking in. Apparently, Dean and Bobby were planning on leaving within the hour, and they wouldn’t make it to Ava’s address until early the next day. He managed to push away his concern for his new friend, and chose instead to enjoy his alone time with Wyn while he had it.

After he got off the phone, Wyn suggested relaxing the rest of the day, until dinner. Once the documentary they were watching was done, Sam asked what she normally did to keep herself occupied. 

Normally, her days included taking clients in town or at home, shopping for supplies both conventional and occult, caring for wayward hunters, or research and travel wherever that research took her. But for now all she wanted to do was savor every moment with him. 

So they enjoyed quiet moments with each other. 

When their plates were cleaned, and the TV off, they sprawled out on the couch. Each reading a book for pleasure, while their legs tangled together, occasionally sneaking smiles from opposite ends of the furniture. 

After, Sam was delighted when she shared her daily meditation ritual with him. 

It usually concluded a yoga session, which she had become quite fond of over the past months. Wyn explained what each of the crystals she used were used for, and how she arranged them for the most effective focus. 

Sam even joined her. It wasn’t his first time meditating, but certainly his first time with just one other person. At the end of the half hour, Wyn grinned proudly at Sam. He inquired curiously, and she waved it off.

“Your aura is brighter.”

“You can see that?” A grin on his face.

“Yeah. Not constantly, but when I want to see it I can,” she smiled, “Guess past few days really took a toll on you.”

“Huh,” Sam’s lips pursed slightly and turned down in consideration, “It’s interesting that so many of the psychics so far have different abilities. Seeing auras could be extremely helpful on a hunt. Not that I’m crazy about the idea of you hunting.”

She had considered that as well. Although, she didn’t have near the experience that Sam and Dean had. They had the benefit of John’s intense training all their lives. She had only been able to learn for a few short months.

A ghost of a smile crossed Sam’s lips, “Ya know who just popped into my head?”

“Who?” She asked, genuinely curious.

“Remember David Walker? From Eagle Point? I was just thinking of when he introduced us to his boyfriend at that party.”

“Oh yeah,” she smiled brightly as the memory began taking form in her mind clearly, “I remember them. They were so cute. What was the boyfriend's name? God I’m terrible with names, something Greek or Mediterranean at least…”

“Nikos,” Sam replied.

Wyn snapped and pointed, “That’s it! Nikos! Wow…” her expression turned thoughtful. “I wonder how they’re doing. If they’re still together,” her eyes returned to Sam.

“That was a great night,” Sam tilted his head and rolled his eyes lightly, “except for when it became the worst night of my life. Heh.” 

Wyn grimaced, and felt the familiar feeling of guilt agitating her nerves. There was one major secret she had yet to share with Sam. If ever there was a perfect opportunity to bring it up.

“Sam, I--”

“He told me, you and I were soulmates,” Sam smiled fondly remembering the words spoken to him.

“Did he really?” She was surprised, and gentle warmth spread through her chest. 

“And I don’t know how, but I knew he was right.”

“...Ya know, ever since I’ve been able to,” she waved her hand, “read people I’ve gotten the sense that what we have? It isn’t the same as most people. I mean I look into people's minds, yes, but their souls? The most open and vulnerable part of a person, it holds onto the love and bonds they’ve experienced and will experience. And only one other person I’ve read has felt even close to the kind of bond we share.”

It was a heavy kind of thing to put out there. A sense of eminence that carried an eternal sort of promise.  But neither felt the weight of such a burden. In fact, it gave them a renewed sense of determination, that they were meant to be. 

The dark heaviness had been clinging to Sam the past couple days was gone. The air felt lighter and more vibrant as a result. So long it had been, since the two lovers were able to enjoy such a simple afternoon of doing nothing. Nothing but being close to each other, maintaining light contact throughout. It was reassuring. It was home. 

It was downright domestic. 

The word sent an odd feeling through Wyn. How long could this possibly last? Were she and Sam actually meant to have the kind of life where they were allowed to be together, and live their lives? To have a family… 


Wyn was disappointed in herself, having chickened out, and abandoned the topic earlier. She knew she had to tell Sam at some point. But that guilt was overwhelming, and she just couldn’t destroy the perfect day they had. 

However, those thoughts and all others, swiftly fled her mind, when they retired for bed later into the night, and Sam used his hands, his lips, his whole body to make her think of nothing but the way he made her feel. Once again into the late night, they savoured each other. 

There would be plenty of time for more bad news... eventually.




Sam looked around unfamiliar surroundings. He staggered into a nearly empty parking lot. There were headless bodies everywhere with black ooze surrounding the heads and severed necks. Industrial cleaning bottles scattered about.

His eyes scanned the lot, searching. Until his eyes befell a terrible sight. 

Wyn on the ground, next to the Impala. He could see blood.

“WYN!” He ran towards her, “no no no no no, Wyn,” he gathered her in his arms. She looked up at him, weak breathing. He looked down to see hers and Sam’s hands covered in her blood. A gunshot wound to her stomach, pumping blood. Her skin gone cold and pale from the blood loss.

“God, please no...”
“Sam...” She looked up to him wearily.
“You’re gonna be fine. You’re gonna be fine okay?” He put his forehead to hers, and began rocking. The anguish and pain choking him. 

She put her hand to his cheek in a tender movement, “I never stopped loving you… even before we found each other again. I’m so --sorry-”
“Please, don’t leave me,” he begged.
“Sam. We’ll be together at the end... we’re meant for each other right?” She let out a weak chuckle before coughing, blood dripping from her mouth. “Keep fighting, Sam. Promise me... I love you...” Her body went slack, her head falling back, pale lips parted with no more breath passing them.
“Wyn... WYN! No, Please, NO!” 

Sam sat upright in bed, “NO!” 

The cry reverberated against the walls and hardwood floors. He quickly felt the cold sweat on his brow, an unwelcome familiar symptom. The dream had been eerily similar to his vision-dreams he started having over a year ago. 

Suddenly, he felt a small gentle hand upon his back, and glanced quickly to his left to see Wyn already waking. Immediately springing to concern and comfort mode.

“Sam?! You alright?” Wyn sat up rubbing his back, as his rib cage expanded deeply trying to maintain his breathing. She was struggling to grab hold of consciousness, having been ripped from a seemingly peaceful sleep.

Sam simply nodded his head in response, “Bad dream.”

“You wanna talk about it?” He felt her kiss his shoulder, rubbing her forehead against his skin.

Sam leaned into the touch and shook his head. 

Please, God, don’t take her away from me!

“That’s okay, love, you don’t have to talk. Come here,” she opened her arms and he leaned desperately into her embrace. Wyn laid back carefully, with Sam’s head resting where her shoulder met her chest. Gentle strokes on his arm, and her fingernails scratching his scalp. 

Then, Sam took a slow breath and stilled. 

“No,” he said, his voice tense, “I need to say it outloud. I don’t want to, but last time I didn’t talk about it…” he exhaled, avoiding the curious look from Wyn, “I dreamed, but it wasn’t a dream, it was like one of my visions.”

Sam swallowed, but Wyn said nothing. Simply listening. 

He continued, “I didn’t recognize where I was, but we were both there. And you,” tears sprang to his eyes but he pushed through the lump in his throat, “I found you and you’d been shot. There was so much blood. You died in my arms.”

“Oh, Sam.”

Sam took a deep shuddering breath. 

“I had dreams like that for weeks before Jess died.” 

He could sense that Wyn was trying to navigate unfamiliar waters. A normal person having a bad dream could brush it off. But Sam’s nightmares had a nasty habit of coming true.

“Could you tell anything specific? Any sense of when it was?”

“No. I never do. Sometimes it’s way in advance, sometimes it’s too late when I see them. But… your hair was much longer.”

“You said lately the visions only happen when you’re awake though?”

“Yeah, haven’t had one while dreaming in a while…”

“It’ll be okay, Love,” she kissed his hair, “the only thing we can do is be careful. And do our best to make sure we’re ready for a fight.”

Sam whimpered at the thought of her in a fight with a supernatural creature. A monster cutting into her with its claws, a poltergeist choking the life out of her, a vampire draining her dry...

“Shhh,” Wyn held him close, pressing down her own concern, “I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

They laid there for a while. It was still dark out, but the clock indicated it was early morning. Not yet time to wake up fully.

Sam considered her words. Honestly what could they do? Most of the time his visions would result in him and Dean hauling ass trying to make in time to save some poor person in trouble. But here he was with Wyn. Safe and sound. 

The vision had felt strange. Nothing seemed familiar. All he could tell about their surroundings was that he had never been there before. His mind continued trying to dissect all the sensory clues he could remember. But the image of a dying and bloody Wyn made it very difficult. 

They were both startled when Sam’s phone went off. The ringer stirred him from his musings. Reaching for the phone, he saw the familiar number on the display. He sat up instantly and put the device to his ear.

“Dean? Did you make it Ava’s? Is she okay?”

“Sammy, I’m sorry. When Bobby and I got here, police were surrounding the place.”

“...What happened?”

Wyn instantly tensed hearing Sam’s tone.

“Ava’s missing. We managed to smooth talk our way into the crime scene. Her fiance was murdered. Only trace of her was her engagement ring.”

“The Demon?”

“Probably. The place reeked of sulphur. Sam, I’m sorry. We’ll find her okay? Bobby and I will find her!”

Sam ended the call. Crestfallen devastation completely drained him. Words failed him, but he could tell Wyn had gotten the gist of things. He had told Wyn all about Ava. How Ava was kind of quirky and it almost reminded him of Wyn.

“It’s my fault…”

“Love, no it’s not.”

“Everyone around me gets hurt, because of me,” his jaw tightened and a tear fell from his eye despite his best efforts, “There’s evil in me.”

“Sam, no!”

“I can feel it, Wyn. Dad knew it, too…” his own dejected voice sounded foreign to his ears. But combining a gut-wrenching nightmare and devastating news from Dean, his own ability 

“What do you mean? He loved you Sam.”

“He told Dean, he might have to kill me.”

The air tingled with the uncomfortable truth hanging. His own father hadn’t believed he was capable of resisting evil.

“...What?!” Wyn exclaimed.

“Dad told Dean right before he died. That Dean had to save me. And that if he couldn’t… he’d have to kill me.”

“Oh God…”

“I’m a danger to you.”

Wyn turned his head to look at her directly, and Sam’s heart skipped at the sight. There was a fire in Wyn’s intense blue eyes. The light green circle around the pupil, strongly visible. A light of fierce tenacity that startled him if he was being honest. He knew she had punched John once before. Now she looked like she was ready for round two. 


“Now you listen to me Sam Winchester. There are few things that I know resolutely, and believe with every fiber of my being. The first is that I love you. I love you more than anything in this world. The second is that you are good.”

Sam’s shoulders shook with a small sob. John certainly loved his boys, but his parenting skills left much to be desired. 

“And if you doubt my words, then you’re not as smart as I thought you are.” 

Sam let out a disheartened laugh. Wyn kissed his forehead. And again. 

Then, slowly her lips trailed down leaving a kiss on each area of skin on his face. When she ran her fingers through his hair, she felt Sam sigh and lean into her touch.

If Sam didn’t believe her words, then she would need to show him. Wyn raised his face to look at her. A soft wanting expression on her face, saying ‘you are everything to me’. It made Sam want to fall to his knees and thank God for giving him such a spectacular woman to love.

With great care to each movement, from the time their lips meet once again in a sweet tender touch, when their bodies pressed against the other in a passionate embrace. She lay on his chest, and moved her hips up and down, moving with Sam in a perfect sync. 

Sam had to lean his head forward and shoulders propped up with pillows, so their foreheads could press together, and eyes locked into an extraordinary connection. He clung to her, his muscled arms around her waist and hands gripping skin. 

She soothed and caressed and uttered sweet words of adoration and devotion. Gently showing him, making him believe the goodness she felt in him. The sweet hope of true love that hummed through their hearts. 

And Sam took it all. He savored every gasp and moan, every dilation of her blue eyes, the soft feel of her skin as she moved above him, her auburn hair cascading down her pale back. He committed every last detail to memory. Allowing himself to be as in that moment as possible. 

It wasn’t often they took things very slow, but now it was though time itself had no meaning. The two melded together, until it was as though they could feel their very beings intertwined. When the gentle warmth that had been building, began to spread and intensify. There was still no frantic chasing of pleasure, but in the same instant Sam and Wyn shared a climax of ecstasy. 

“Sam, I love you…” She whispered against his lips. 

The gentle morning light streamed through the window illuminating the pure intimacy of their love. Sam savored the warmth of his lover’s body pressed against his with sated desire, as she nuzzled into his neck affectionately. His own self-loathing safely stuffed back into its box for the time being. He knew he had to cherish this time with Wyn. 

With all the bad things happening to psychics, Sam would do anything to protect her from more pain.




The next several days Wyn and Sam took comfort in each other, continuing to nurse old wounds and new. Dean and Bobby called as frequently as they could with updates on Ava. Which wasn’t really any new information. But they had been on the horn to everyone they could think of to keep an eye out. Wyn even reached out to her contacts.

Even Missouri wasn’t able to see anything. They figured the Demon had learned to cover it’s tracks, so that even an experienced Seer wouldn’t be of any help.  

In the spare moments they had, they both continued to dive into research. But with Wyn’s resources running low, they had to make use of references they could find online. Luckily, Bobby had a vast library that was almost soley based on occult and supernatural lore. Any book they couldn’t physically get their hands on, the old hunter was bound to have tucked away somewhere.

The holiday passed without incident, giving them the opportunity to reflect on another happy time with the Winchesters dining with Stacy and Wyn all those years ago. In the days following, when they weren’t occupied with researching the mystery of their lives, Wyn sought out distractions for them. Not only to keep Sam’s mind from wallowing in the never ending supply of self-doubt and fear, but to keep her own mind off the unabetting guilt she felt, continuing to hide a single secret.

Sam helped Wyn with her target practice. “Well, you aren’t a terrible shot at least,” Sam had teased her. And they would spar daily to keep each other on their toes. Wyn would teach Sam all she could about psychic readings using Tarot cards. And they had even tried using the runes Missouri had gifted her, but as usual the responses were vague if they were able to decipher anything at all. 

Sometime during the first week of December, Wyn and Sam were falling asleep in front of their notes. They hadn’t heard from Dean that day, but they knew he and Bobby had already parted ways. The elder hunter having returned to Sioux Falls to man phones for his hunter buddies. 

The bags under Sam’s eyes told Wyn he hadn’t been sleeping well, despite no more vison-nightmares. After running into the same dead-ends all day, Wyn could tell Sam needed to stop staring at the pages and rest his eyes. There was brief resistance on Sam’s part, the over achiever in him running on fumes, before he acquiesced and they retreated to the sanctuary of the master bedroom.

For the first time in days, they both managed to fall asleep with no struggle, the near instant their heads landed on the pillows. 


Both of the Special Children fell into the all-encompassing vision of a dream. 

Surrounded by flame, The Pale Queen, clothed in a long sleeveless white gown, stepped forward. Facing The Boy King who sat upon a throne. A white suit worn like a second skin. They were surrounded by hell fire and screaming of damned souls. She sauntered up to the throne, eyes locked with her One. Her Soul. 

Her King.

She approached the powerful man before her, and knelt.

“My King…”

Intense eyes filled with hunger, dark and lustful peered down. On instinct and without provocation, His Queen rose, and moved in a swift motion straddling him. The power dynamic shifted. It was intoxicating.

This was not Master and Servant. Not submission, but balance. Once hazel eyes glowed bright gold, a gold of pure raw power, she started to ride him. Reveling in the sensation of Her King, as she rose up and down. His cock sliding slick, she doing all the work for the moment. A show of open vulnerability. Taking pleasure. 

Then, his hips began to thrust. Rising to match her movements and penetrated His Queen to her core. She gasped out and moaned at the deep sensation that brought her closer to peak. 

Her King allowed his hands to drift up and clench the round cheeks, controlling the actions of the stunning creature taking pleasure in him. 

“My Love…” She gasped out, her head thrown back and cried out. An explosion of power emmenated out, triggering the same reaction from him. Their bodies snapped together in an all to familiar connection of their Soul. 

Blinking and teary, their eyes glowed a matching gold. 


Wyn shot upright in a cold sweat, and looked to see Sam lay still beside her deep asleep. A soft noise made her heart pound, and she turned to see a dark figure standing at the foot of the bed. 

“Sam! Wake up!” Wyn shook him, but he did not stir.

“Ah-ah, Sammy won’t wake up right now. After all,” Yellow sinister eyes shone to meet hers in the firelight, “This is just in your special little mind.”

His voice was like a festering wound to her soul. The ancient evil energy that rolled off him, permeated the room and filled the space around with a vacuum-like darkness.

Wyn moved slowly. Removing the covers from her body, and slipped out her feet touching the floor. Suddenly, she was very glad she had fallen asleep wearing one of Sam’s large flannels, not wanting to be any more vulnerable than she already felt.

“I’m dreaming. You’re not here,” She declared, staring down The Yellow-Eyed Demon.

“Mmm,” the Demon waved it’s hand from side to side, “Not exactly. You’re not dreaming, but this isn’t quite real. Think of it like a quick pop in on my sweet girl.”

“I am not your sweet girl,” Wyn gritted her teeth in fury, and clenched her fists close to her side.

“Oh, but you are mine. In more ways than one. Do you even know who I am?”

“You’re the thing that ruined my life and destroyed my family.” The yellow-eyed bastard smiled. “My father knew you.” The face shifted. She glared, “I saw… when he died. He recognized you!”

“Tsk, tsk,” The Demon crossed his arms and strolled to the other side of the bed and shook It’s head, “you’ve just been finding out all the state secrets, haven’t you now? Though, I suppose I should be happy you’ve been honing your abilities so diligently.”

Ice ran through her veins, John Winchester’s warning echoed in her memory.

“And now here you and Sam are, getting the band back together. Warms my black heart, well if I had one.” 

Her gaze shifted to Sam’s sleeping face, then back to the abomination.

“Oh, really?” She questioned, putting on a fake bravado, “Seems like demons do nothing, but try and keep me and Sam apart.”

“That’s because it was too soon. Now the time is nigh, and soon you will both be ready!”

“We will never serve you.”

“You won’t serve me,” Yellow Eyes grinned sickly, “You’ll stand beside me! I’m giving you the opportunity for power beyond your wildest dreams. It’s Fate. You and Sam…” He guestured his arm out sweeping over Sam’s form, his yellow eyes gleaming. “The two of you will be powerful. The world will be changed for the better! Things are going exactly the way I want them to.”

“Why us?”

“Because,” The Demon looked at her with an almost fond gaze, “you are Twin Flames. Two halves of the same soul, created for the other. Bound forever as soulmates, a destiny that stretches across Time. You and Sammy,” he looked to Sam again, “You literally belong to each other.”

The twin soul is key. 

A wave of sudden emotion overcame her. She shook despite trying to hide it. 

The sudden visualization of the Beginning. A spark of life, of creation. Formed together in cosmic ethereal bounds. The implication was mind-boggling. 

Wyn and Sam were bound even more deeply than soulmates. Twin Flames. 

Suddenly, a finger placed beneath her chin, made Wyn jump back in disgust. Yellow Eyes, having appeared by her side, gleamed back shrouded in dark mystery. The smirk on the creature's face made her stomach turn as he spoke again, “Twin Flames are powerful . And with power like that? Let’s just say I have big plans.” 





Wyn sat straight up in bed with a sharp inhale, mirroring the false moment earlier. Then, beside her Sam shot up as well, gasping and let out a quick breath. Their eyes met. Vibrations from their shaking rippled through the bed. 



“Did-- Did you just dream about--”

“The Yellow-Eyed Demon?”

Both lovers felt a heavy stone sink in their gut. Fearfully, they embraced each other. Sam explained what he had seen. Yellow Eyes had come to him, too. He tried to convey what he experienced as even tempered as possible, wanting to remain stable to assuage Wyn’s obvious terror. 

At his conclusion, they realized they shared a vision before they were visited by the evil spectre. Wyn’s stomach rolled. Sam had unfortunately encountered the Demon personally before, and it hadn’t been pretty then. But there was a fresh sense of fear for their bond. A kind of fear neither had anticipated.

“I keep hearing my Dad’s words in my head Sam. And now Yellow-Eyes tells us we’re more than soulmates?! What does he want with us?”

Sam thought. “I… I don’t know, Wyn.” He felt utterly hopeless. “But about us? Being made for each other? Wyn,” he smiled past his dread, “we both knew that a long time ago. Right?”

Wyn let out a breath, her eyes fluttering shut. Her hand reached up to hook behind his neck, and nodded against his forehead.

“Yeah, we did,” he could hear the sound of a distant mirth behind her meek response, “Two halves of the same soul,” she whispered. Sam’s eyes darted to Wyn’s fingers fidgeting with the necklace she had worn since he gave it to her all those years ago. “It just seems more scary now. I never thought it could be something bad.”

“Look, this freaked me out too, okay? I say we call Dean and Bobby. Maybe they can help us figure something out…” the next words hung heavy in his mouth, “But if what the Demon said is true… It was happy that we were together again. What if…” He couldn’t finish the heartwrenching thought. 

“What if, what? Sam?” Wyn’s voice was tight. Her eyes peered back with a tremor of worry.

The doorbell gave them another start, their attention immediately turned to the security monitor next to the bed. Her heart fell. 

“A sheriff’s deputy!”

The exchange twin looks of ‘Oh Shit.’ They both leaped from the bed, Sam throwing on a pair of pants, and Wyn grabbing her robe. 

“Stay hidden. I’ll get rid of him.”

Before Sam could say another word, the bell rang once again. Wyn dashed out of the bedroom, down the hall and downstairs. She took a deep calming breath, then opened the door. 

“Hello there, Miss Evans?”

“Yes,” she responded, keep the door open just enough to stand where the deputy could see her, “Can I help you?”

“Sorry to bother you so early in the morning, Miss. My name’s Deputy Walter Haines. I’m here, because the sheriff’s department has been working with some federal authorities in search for a couple of fugitives.”


“Couple of fellas. Sam and Dean Winchester. Sheriff got word that you were an old acquaintance of the Winchesters. Thought they might have reached out to you recently.”

“Oh my goodness! Well, I -- I haven’t seen Sam and Dean since I was a teenager in Washington. Why would they reach out to me?”

“These boys seem to have a sentimental streak. Investigators aren’t wanting to chance anything, so they’re following up with all known contacts. If they do contact you,” he held out his card, “please let us know. We have reason to believe they’re extremely dangerous. For your own protection, don’t engage with them if at all possible.”

“Thank-you, Deputy…” she glanced at the card, “Haines. For letting me know, I’ll let you know if I hear anything.”

“Take care,” he nodded, with a tip of his cap, then returned to his patrol car.

As soon as the car was leaving down the gravel road, Wyn shut the door behind her and rushed back upstairs. As soon as she stepped into the bedroom, she saw Sam’s back turned to her, as he stood by the window facing the front. 

“Yeah, I know. I’ll tell her. Okay see you soon, Dean.”

Sam ended the call, and turned. Wyn stood staring at him from across the room, her shoulders lowered in despondency. He stepped closer to her, but stopped halfway, searching for the words. But she knew the call with Dean couldn mean only one thing.  


“Wyn, we both know what this means right?”

Wyn stared at the floor, head lowered in a vain attempt to hide the tears rising behind her eyes, “We can’t be together.”

“Just for now...” Sam clarified.

“I don’t want you to leave.”

“Neither do I.”

“Don’t suppose you'd change your mind huh?” Her knee bounced, as she crossed her arms. Trying to keep the profound disappointment from suffocating her. 


“I know, I know…” A single tear tracked down her cheek, before another followed. She was losing reign on holding it back. It wasn’t safe for Sam to stay here.  

“Are you mad at me?” He asked, a touch of true worry.

“...Kinda,” Wyn closed the distance between them, and she threw her arms around him all the same. 

Wyn and Sam, it seemed, still had their battles to win, before they were finally allowed to be happy together.  




Night before Sam was to leave with Dean, Wyn did not fall asleep easily. Nor did she truly sleep at all. The entire twilight into the morning her mind was plagued with guilt. Thoughts warring with each other inside her head, never quieting. 


I have to tell him. I have to. He deserves to know. But what would that accomplish? I can’t cause him more pain. Past few days have been emotional enough. This will only make him more miserable. But you promised Dean… you can’t keep this secret. It would be selfish. Self selfish selfish liar horrible disgusting all my fault all my fault. 


Dean arrived early the following morning. One could easily tell the elder Winchester was not happy that Sam and Wyn weren’t happy. But he did everything he could to keep things light. Talking about how badass they were, that they’d have that Yellow Eyed Bastard begging for mercy before they took him out for good. 

Wyn managed to force a smile for Dean, hugging him before they departed. Sam having loaded his meager belongings, stood at the foot of the steps to the front porch. Taking in the image of the Evans Homestead one last time.

The two lovers held each other close. The elder Winchester brother waited patiently, leaning against his beloved Impala. Neither wanted to say ‘Farewell’. The finality of such a word, wasn’t something either of them wanted to invite. 

Sam stepped back and held her face between his hands. With a gentle kiss, their lips pressed together. Saying goodbye the only way their hearts could bear. They separated with deep pain reflected in their eyes. He turned, to join his brother. 


“Yeah?” He turned back once more.

“… be safe.”

Sam nodded with a soft smile, and quickly. 


When the Impala was out of sight again, instead of going inside, Wyn turned toward the Northeast corner of the property. To the family burial plot. 

Wind cut through her light layers, but she barely felt the cold. Upon reaching the area shaded by an old Cottonwood tree, her family's graves greeted her with stillness. The stone marker black, smooth stone like water on a lake, reflecting the name: 

Thomas Evan Winchester -  November 29, 2002  

Her knees went weak and she collapsed to the ground, arms wrapped around her form. 

Wyn leaned over and sobbed. The loss of Sam once again, pained her very soul. Twin Flame , the words echoed in her mind. Then, she looked up resolute and took a shuddering breath. 

I’ll tell him when we’re free. When he can mourn properly, and we can heal together… when it’s all over. Then, I’ll tell him.

They would make it through this.

Chapter Text


Whoever said distance makes the heart grow fonder, has never known the pain of being separated from the literal other half of their soul. While only physical distance separated them, the knowledge that they weren’t abandoned or unloved, but out of necessity didn’t make things easier on Sam and Wyn. 

Thankfully, Dean was an expert at making Sam feel better. And by extension Sam was able to make Wyn feel slightly better about their separation. 


W: i know it might be crazy, but i already miss you… is that crazy?

S: if it is then im crazy. Miss you so much it hurts .


The two lovers managed to keep the faith, by maintaining at least a limited contact. Mostly texting and emailing, whenever they were in between SIM cards, with the occasional late night conversation. 

One time they attempted phone sex, but unfortunately they’d been interrupted. Dean had come back to his and Sam’s motel room early, after being kicked out of a bar for fighting. Needless to say, they were both mortified, and didn’t attempt that again. But that didn’t stop the exchange of sexy messages and pictures. Wyn took special joy in getting Sam worked up from a far. 

A few times, Wyn sent the boys a lead of a hunt she picked up. One such hunt happened to overlap Christmas. Wyn managed to surprise the Winchester brothers, by paying for an all you can eat Christmas dinner at a local diner in the town they were passing through. Thankfully, the diner let her pay with her card over the phone.

Missouri did her best to keep Wyn occupied as well, sending her on quick errands and supply runs whenever the elder psychic could see Wyn’s mind working overtime. One evening they were enjoying each other's company, watching the news. Both women were completely surprised to see the Winchester brothers on the news. Apparently, having taken part in a bank robbery and hostage situation. 

The news irked Wyn to no end, as the whole point of Sam leaving was to stay under the radar and avoid detection from the police. Well, not quite. The Yellow-Eyed Demons words still scared them. It was almost a full week before Wyn heard from the boys again after the bank incident. But it wouldn’t be the last she heard of it.


Mid February


A sudden ring of the doorbell, followed by loud knocking on the front door, jarred Wyn from her book on ancient sigils and seals. She had been brushing up on all her occult knowledge since Sam and Dean had to take off. There was a war coming, and she wanted to be prepared.

When she opened the heavy door, two men in suits stood before her looking very unamused.

“Miss Bronwyn Evans?”

“Yes?” She crossed her arms and furrowed her brow, not moving from the doorway.

“I’m Special Agent Victor Henriksen, and this is my partner Agent Carl Reidy,” the two men flashed their badges in a show of power. “We want to talk to you about Sam and Dean Winchester. May we come inside?”

“No, you may not.” She stepped out and shut the door behind her. 

Wyn steeled her expression. She didn’t recognize the agents’ names, but she had known it was only a matter of time before someone came back looking for Sam and Dean. Honestly, she was surprised it took as long as it did considering how long Dean had been wanted, and the close calls they told her about. She’d be damned if these men would get anything out of her. 

With cool indifference, Wyn stared at the dark skinned man. If it wasn’t for the smug smirk look on his face, he would have reminded her of old neighbor Corey Jefferson. The two agents stood before her with no clear intention of leaving anytime soon.

“Now, the Winchesters. We did a little digging, and you have quite the connection with those boys...”

Wyn shrugged, “Haven’t seen em in, oh, I dunno how long - years!”

The nice FBI agent certainly didn’t need to know that she had just spoken with them a couple weeks ago on the phone to wish Dean a “Happy Birthday”. She had even managed to convince Sam not to give Dean a hard time for having pie for every meal that day. 

Henriksen scoffed, shaking his head. The agent turned, gesturing his head to the oak tree in the front yard. The target Wyn had been using was full of holes. Closer to the center than when she first got a gun, but not by much.

“A little target practice?”

She tilted her head to peak at the target, “Girl out here all by her lonesome? Gotta learn to protect herself. Plus I’m a crap shot, so ya know - practice makes perfect.”

“Protection, huh?”

“It’s one of those Bill of Rights things.”

The man’s partner, Reidy, chuckled, but quickly silenced himself at a withering glare from Henriksen. 

Henriksen continued, “You and the Winchesters share the same disrespect for authority. You may have heard, little over a month ago they were involved in a bank robbery that resulted in multiple deaths. Not to mention the dozens of other atrocities they have racked up. So, I highly suggest you cooperate, or I can make life very unpleasant for you.” 

Wyn blinked, and put on a fake pleasant expression.

The man grinned pompously, before he continued, “According to our information you had contact with their father, John Winchester, just last year. Surely Sam and Dean must have reached out to you when he died?” 

Wyn needed to deflect. Feeling quite unsettled with how much the FBI seemed to know about her. She shouldn’t be on the big dogs radar, not yet anyway. Especially since she’d hadn’t heard from the sheriff’s deputy since the beginning of December.

“Look Agents, I don’t know you very well, but you seem like semi-reasonable men. Believe me. Sam and Dean? They aren’t the bad guys.”

“Look at that. You, bravely standing up to the big bad g-men to protect your boys. What are you? Etta Place to their Butch and Sundance?” He asked mockingly. 

“You don’t know anything about me,” Wyn uttered calmly, subdued anger brimming beneath the surface. 

“I know you had your own share of tragedy. Maybe that’s why you’re so sweet on the Winchesters. Troubled childhood, Aunt went crazy and locked you up--”

“Don’t talk about my Aunt like that.” She resisted smacking the smirk right off his face, since assaulting a federal agent probably wasn’t a good idea. Trying to keep an even tone to her voice, “You have no idea what happened.”

Henriksen looked at her, obviously very pleased with himself. She could feel it rolling off his aura. 

“Then, there’s what happened in Washington. Two roommates died, one missing turned up dead months later. People in your vicinity seem to meet unfortunate ends.” 

Wyn shrugged, “Sucks to be me I guess.”

His partner side eyed him with amusement. “We just wanna know if you’ve had recent contact with the Winchesters.”

“Like I told the sheriff’s department two months ago, Sam and Dean haven’t been here. I have no idea where they are. I suggest you look elsewhere for a lead, agents .”

“We’ll be in touch, Miss Evans.” They each held out a card, and she took them without another word. 

Wyn watched the federal agents return to their basic government issued car. She breathed out slowly as they pulled away. They’d be back. She knew that much for sure. It was officially time to make herself scarce.

“Well, crap!”




“Missouri?!” Wyn hollered out, practically frantic as she stepped into the psychic’s shop. When the agents left, she had promptly packed her bags with some basics as well as some protection charms and occult objects that might come in handy. It had only taken an hour, before she was securing everything in the car, and drove away, leaving her home in the rearview mirror.

“Hello? You here?”

There was the sound of footsteps, when Missouri Mosely stomped into the front room with a look of knowing admonishment in her eyes and hands on her hips, “Where do you think you’re going young lady?”

“Missouri, the Feds showed up at my place. Like the real life Feds,” her mentor's face fell at the words. She continued, “Yeah. I know. I have to leave. Disappear. They’ll be back, and I don’t think they’ll be as patient with me next time. They definitely don’t buy the story that I haven’t seen Sam and Dean in years.”

“What will you do?”

Wyn exhaled, “Gonna head North I think. I’m going to find that book that John was looking for. After all my research, I think I have a few leads. I’ve already got my car loaded up, and swapped the plates.” Then, the young woman held up the key to the Evans Homestead, “Can I ask you to watch after the place for me? Someone needs to look after it, and help any hunters that need shelter.”

The elder psychic rolled her eyes, “Of course. It’ll be waitin’ when you and Sam figure out this whole mess.” 

A hopeful end to their nightmare. There was a flutter in her stomach at the thought of her and Sam finally having their dream of living a normal life with a home and family. If they managed to beat this thing, they could be together. Be happy.

“Got a long road ahead of us though.” Wyn nodded and looked up to see the elder psychic with open arms. She rushed into the hug of the woman who had filled such a void in her heart.

“Be safe, you hear me?”

“I will. I promise.” Missouri kissed her on the top of the head, Wyn then pulled back with water brimming in her eyes. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“You know where to find me.”




Carelessly, Wyn tossed her duffle bag onto the foot of the bed, in the dingy motel room. It had an odd smell, but so had the last few. At least this one didn’t have any bodily fluids on various surfaces around the room. At least, not that she could see yet. 

Quickly, she locked the door behind her, and pulled her gun from it’s holster inside her jacket. After a sweep of the room, and laying charms around to aid in protection, she flopped onto the bed, and pulled her phone from her pocket. It had been a long day of research searching any trace of the book of prophecy, but the library she had been holed up in the past couple days had proved fruitless. 

Deciding she should fill the guys in, she texted Sam’s cell.


W: Sam, its me Wyn. New number, had to switch SIM cards.

S: cool. how r things there? deans been humming the same ac/dc song past 100 mi. send help


She couldn’t hold back a laugh at that. There were definitely times she envied the sibling bond the two young men shared. They had grown up together, and always had someone on their side. Wyn never had that really. 

Not until she met the Winchesters.


W: you should know, im not at the homestead anymore.

S: why???

W: couple weeks ago, feds showed up. Two special agents looking for you and dean. figured i should make tracks.  

S: damnit! You ok??

S: dean says hi, and asks where ur going?

W: hi dean! yes, i’m fine. i’m heading north, to look for that book. Its gotta hold the answers we need

S: ur probably right. I wont’ say im not worried about u out on the road by urself, but please stay safe. 

W: i know love. i will. ill keep you guys updated the whole way… i miss you

S: i miss you too. stay safe and be smart. do you remember everything I taught you about flying under the radar?


Oh, boy did she remember. Specifically, she remembers Sam drilling her on all the facts and know-how, while, shall we say, exercising some unorthodox teaching methods during their two weeks together.


W: yes. dont worry sam - im a big girl and if you recall you were quite the attentive instructor ;) 

S: dont remind me of sex when im sitting next to dean. damnit now im hard.


Wyn burst out laughing again. The weariness that had been weighing her down these past couple weeks, gradually faded away. A gentle calm settled in her heart. 


W: aww im sorry my love. think of me later when youre alone.

S: i dont think theres ever a moment when im not madly in love with u

W: i know what you mean. 

W: Im gonna crash. you guys stopping soon?  

S: probably. itll be motel winchester for us tonight. unless dean finds some poor sucker to hustle at pool

W: haha, just stay out of trouble. ill call you soon. I love you! xx

S: I love you, too!


Wyn flipped her phone closed, and smiled. Then stood up from her reclined position, and surveyed the room once more. 

It wasn’t all that bad upon a second look. 

As much as she wanted to sleep, Wyn knew she needed to lay out her game plan before resting any further. She pulled up her brand new laptop, and popped in her flash drive of what little information and resources she had on demonology. She would need to figure out her next stop after she left Iowa the next day. 

Maybe Minneapolis before swinging around by Chicago. Moving in an odd pattern would sure help keep the authorities off her trail. Plus, going to different regions and reaching out to a few hunter connections she had could prove helpful in uncovering as much of this mystery as possible. 

It would just take time.




Early April


“Thought we were screwed before?” 

Sam broke their silence in the cemetery, as he and Dean tossed their shovels into the trunk. This had been Dean’s crazy ass plan to start with. At least, they ganked the ghost nurse that was killing those prisoners.The elder brother shut the trunk firmly, and made his way to the drivers side.

“Yeah I know,” Dean opened the door to the Impala, bringing his hands together and placed them on top of the car, “We gotta go deep this time.”

“Deep? Henriksen’s gonna be on our ass more than ever. We should go to Yemen!” Sam retorted, concern written on his face. He still couldn’t believe they had gotten away with it. 

“Eesh. Not ready to go that deep. Still need my alcohol and scantily clad women,” Dean sighed dreamily, “God Bless America.”

Sam huffed on a light laugh, and shook his head with fondness. They still had a long way to go before the heat died down. Then, an all too familiar pain erupted behind his eyes. 

“AHH!” He winced, bringing the heel of his hand to his brow.

“Sam?!” Dean asked, springing into action.

He cried out in pain, this time collapsing to his knees and clutching the car door, as the vision materialized in flashes. The first thing he could pick out from the darkness was the sight of a dark room. 

Stone walls. A cage. Burning body. And Wyn, unconscious and bleeding.

“Sam!” Dean shook his brother, trying to bring him back to reality. Sam cried out in pain, clutching his head before gasping for air. 

“Dean! I think Wyn’s in trouble.” 

Then, Sam’s phone rang. 




Blood seeped between pale fingers, as Wyn was crumpled against a pillar, hand clutching her side. Across the room lay the charred remains of a particularly nasty witch. The basement she had found the witch hiding out in, was surprisingly large. 

A cage in the corner held the dozen or so missing children from a nearby town. They were all unconscious and chained up, but she could see the tell tale rise and fall of their chests. She breathed a sigh of relief. They were still alive, at least. The young psychic wasn’t too sure about herself though. 

Shakily, Wyn pulled her hand away and looked down. She cringed. It didn’t look good. She hadn’t been counting on the witch using a Daeva as a guard dog. 

After flinging her around like a rag-doll, the shadow demon had sliced her stomach with it’s claws before she managed to banish the thing. With no idea how deep the cuts were, only knowing she was losing blood fast, she called in her ‘Hail Mary’. 

It took great effort to focus, her head still swimming from getting smashed into concrete. The phone rang through the speaker, and rang, then thankfully there was an answer. 


“S-Sam…” she managed in a weak voice.

“Wyn? Are you okay?” his tone was urgent. 

“... Sam, I need help.”

“We’ll come to you! Where are you?”

“Paradise, Missouri. Working a case…” her eyes started to flutter. Blood loss was making her weak.

“Wyn? Hey, hey, Wyn, baby -- talk to me. We’re on our way, we’re not far.”

“Just… just off highway 169, passed the old church. Look for... the creepy looking cabin on the North side road, by the lake…” 

She could hear the sound of the Impala's engine roaring, and if that wasn’t the sweetest sound she could have heard in that moment. Her vision was fading fast. 

“We’ll be there soon, just hang on! …Wyn?!” she heard Dean call out from the speaker phone. 

Wyn tried to speak, but no sound came out. Her arm fell, the phone tumbling from her hand. She could hear Sam’s panicked voice, when her injuries overwhelmed her and she passed out. 

When Wyn started to stir, some time later, she heard low urgent voices. Someone called out her name. She fought to open her eyes when the sound of heavy boots thundered down the creaky wooden stairs. Then she felt warm hands touch her side and cup her face, patting frantically.

“Wyn, baby, no no no, come on wake up! Wyn! Please, come on…” 

Slowly, her blue eyes blinked opened and locked on to a familiar pair of hazel ones.

“The kids…” her voice faint. She could hear some of them crying softly, as a deep voice calmly soothed them, assuring they were the good guys. 

“Dean’s got them,” He lifted her in his arms, one under her knees then supported her upper back with the other. Feeling weak, she rolled her head onto Sam’s shoulder. He was all, but running up the stairs. 


“It’ll be alright, you’ll be fine,” fear laced his voice. 

“Sam, I… have to--have to tell you something…” He didn’t know. He didn’t know about their child. Why the hell didn’t she tell him sooner?

Their son . If she was going to die, he deserved to know. But the words didn’t form. Once more, unconsciousness claimed her.




“Man, what the hell was she doing hunting alone?”

The next time she came back to the waking world, she could hear what she slowly realized were Sam and Dean. Speaking in low voices.

“I don’t know,” Sam weariness evident, “She’s been moving around, trying to stay under radar since the feds, hadn’t heard from her in a while… I thought she was safe.” 

She heard his sigh.

“Dean, we can’t leave her alone. When she wakes up, what are we…I can’t lose her again!” 

“Alright just chill out, Sammy. We patched her up alright. And Winnie’s tough. I called Bobby, filled him in. He said she can hole up at his place while she’s on the mend.”

Wyn opened her eyes, observing they were in the motel room she had rented. She figured the guys played detective by going through her stuff, and found the alias she gave at the front desk. 

With great care she attempted to sit up only to immediately regret the decision. A loud groan gained the brothers attention.

“Wyn!” Sam moved quickly to the chair placed next to the bed, and he stroked her hair gently, “Hey, how you feeling?”

“Like I went nine rounds with a grizzly bear,” she chuckled softly, but the sharp pain in her side halted that. 

“Take it easy. You were in pretty bad shape when we found you.”

“I’m guessing,” Dean pulled over a chair to sit next to Sam, “that you have a good reason why you were stupid enough to be hunting alone?”

“It wasn’t intentional. Plus I didn’t know the witch was controlling a daeva.”

“You took on a witch and a daeva alone ? How the hell are you alive?!” Dean voice was incredulous.

“Pretty sure a gypsy woman saved me,” she reached for her fitted leather jacket on the bedside table. Sam quickly handed it to her and she fumbled through, searching the lining. 

Then, Wyn pulled out a small stone about five inches across. It had one smooth side shined into a mirror, she extended her hand displaying it to the brothers.

“What is that?” Sam examined the stone carefully.

“The Archimedes Mirror . Got it from a drifter about a month ago,” she gestured for either of them to hold and observe it closer and Sam took it. 

“A little old lady, looked like she had it rough. I bought her a meal at some diner. When I asked her if she had a place to stay that night, she just smiled and handed me that. Then, she was gone.”

Sam and Dean exchanged curious looks. 

“She just… gave it to you?” Dean asked.

“Yeah. Just like that,” she winced when she tried to sit up. Thankfully, Dr. Sam was there to help her, “good thing too. I did some digging on this thing, and it’s a very powerful relic. It was used in Ancient Greece according to the earliest record.”

Sam handed the stone to Dean.

Wyn continued, “All you have to do is hold it in your hand, mirror facing out, and a ‘fiery light with the power of the sun’ destroys anything in its path. Catch is, it’s only effective during an ‘hour of greatest need‘ in the hands of one with some sort of supernatural power.”

“Like psychics…” Sam concluded.

Wyn nodded, “On the money.”

“Supernatural flame thrower… cool!” Dean grinned, and Wyn returned the expression. He handed the stone back to her and she slipped it back into the hidden lining of her jacket. 

“As for the case, I saw this report about missing kids when I got to town. Of course, the paper only reported a few, but turns out this witch has been kidnapping kids for decades, and does this ritual spell to steal their lifeforce. When another kid went missing, I knew I couldn’t just put it off on another hunter, that might not get there in time… Had no idea about the daeva though. Those things suck.”

“I’m in violent agreement with you there,” Dean said.

“I tried to shoot her when I first came in. Would have been a head shot, too, but she stopped the bullet in mid-freakin-air. But at least my aim is getting better. Luckily the Mirror took care of them both.”

“I’m just glad you’re alright,” Sam took her hand, “The kids you found are safe. Guess she hadn’t had time to do the ritual yet.”

“Wyn,” Dean spoke again, getting her direct attention, “you know we can’t stay here. Those kids got a good look at all of us, and I’ll bet the cops manage to get a description out of at least one of ‘em. So, we’re gonna take you to a safe place to rest up.”

“We’re gonna take you to our Uncle Bobby’s place!” Sam explained, the look in his eyes soft and promising.

“Think you can handle a ten hour drive? Sam can take your car. I’ll drive Baby, obviously.”

“Guess it’s better than recovering while trying to bail your two pretty asses out of jail.”

“Heh,” Sam looked rather sheepish, “Funny story about that…”




Bobby Singer was a freakin saint as far as Wyn was concerned. The man had never met her in person. But when they pulled into the auto yard full of junk cars, Bobby was standing outside, waiting for them with a friendly wave. 

Immediately, he gave Sam instructions to help Wyn upstairs to the second bedroom down the hall, and Bobby would handle bringing in the gear from her car.

Dean, who had been following behind them the whole trek, helped as well, while Sam got Wyn settled in. 

Wyn was feeling better than she had ten hours earlier, but was still in a great deal of pain. Bobby, after bringing her duffle and big box of research, entered the guest bedroom with what looked like his entire medicine cabinet. Within minutes, her bandages were changed and wounds treated with an antibiotic cream. 

Normally, such an aggressive wound might incline Wyn to be self-conscious, due to potential scarring. However, Wyn found her thoughts were revolving around her words to Sam when he rescued them. 

“Alright, Wyn darling, you got fresh bandages. Here’s some of the good stuff,” he held out two white pills and a glass of water that she quickly took. “I’m gonna head down stairs and wrangle up some lunch. You all must be starving.”

“Thank-you so much, that would be wonderful.” Wyn smiled at the man. 

“Yeah, thanks Bobby!” Sam replied.

The elder hunter nodded, and gave Sam a firm clap on the shoulder, before leaving them to themselves.

“You feeling any better?” Sam asked, going through the box placed on the table. 

“About as good as I can be,” Wyn scoffed. 

They never could catch a break. Sam exhaled through his nose quickly, acknowledging, it was kind of a stupid question. She beheld Sam for some time. Her inner dialogue running full speed.

“Sam, I have to tell you something.”

Sam halted, taken slightly aback.

“What's up?”

“Help me sit up,” she reached out for him and he swooped to her side. Sam sat carefully on the edge of the bed facing her and helped her sit up, stacking the pillows to help support her.

“Everything alright?”

“I’ve been trying to think of how to tell you... But there’s really no good way.” Sam took her hand gently, looking nervous, but awaiting her words, “Back in High School… the night we decided to run away - What do you remember about that night?”

“I remember Stacy lying to me, and I believed her like a fool.”

“Before that... After we left Steve’s party?”

“We…” he rubbed his thumb along her hand, firm in his hold, “we made love in the Impala.” Something his tone made him seem so vulnerable, letting that lonely romantic out. She could see it whenever they were intimate. It was like he was desperate for a passionate loving touch. It’s what made sex with Sam so earth shattering. “I remember the thunder,” he continued, “and these flashes of just watching you, the way we felt together…”

This could be my only chance to tell him… Now, or never. Wyn lowered her eyes, not feeling worthy of him in that moment. 

“I… should have told you a long time ago. And I’m sorry I haven’t told you before now. But I...” Her voice tightened, and she swallowed her nerves. She crossed her arms, holding them tightly to her chest. Then, she forced herself to look at him, knowing she had to be the strong one for this conversation. 

“I’m here, Wyn. Not going anywhere.” Sam reached out, and placed his hands to her arms.

She nodded. 

“When that demon possessed Aunt Stacy, and locked me up… I knew something felt different, but I didn’t know for sure until after a couple months.” 

Her heart was pounding, the memory of feeling the baby move for the first time and the sheer terror she felt. Sam’s touch comforted her, giving her courage. She just hoped he wouldn’t hate her. 

“I was pregnant.”

Sam froze. He didn’t blink or look away. His breath held, then he uttered, “Pregnant?” 

Wyn nodded slowly. He rose shakily, and staggered back eyes glistening. Then, tore his gaze to the side and dragged his hands over his face as the full implications surfaced. After a moment, he shook his head and looked back at her with tears in his eyes and a resolute face. 

“Wh-what happened?”

“I managed to keep it secret for months. But the day I was rescued, the demon found out and put it’s hand on my stomach, and -- when it touched me it must have hurt the baby. I’m so sorry!” She desperately wanted to fall into his arms, “He died. He was stillborn.”

Moments ticked by. Sam’s breath was heavy, shoulders heaving and air puffing out his nostrils, as he paced erratically. Then, halting his pacing, he looked in her direction, eyes staring absently.

“A boy?” 

Wyn nodded, “Yes.” 

“What did you name him?”

“Thomas Winchester,” she couldn’t hold back her sad smile. The realization that she had named him after her father, but still given him the Winchester name, must have been too much for Sam, as he let out a pained whimper.

“You should have told me,” Sam said shakily. Sucking in a breath through his teeth, mere moments from breaking. 

“I know. It was so so wrong to keep this from you. I didn’t want to hurt you anymore than you already had been.”

Sam nodded his head, sniffling. 

Another few seconds passed, and like a dam bursting, he broke down sobbing. The sound of Sam’s knees hitting the floor, made Wyn wince in sympathy. He clutched the covers draped over her lap, letting his head fall to the soft fabric.

“Wyn, I’m so sorry!”

The sound his sobs broke her heart. She reached out, leaning over his form slightly. One arm draped across his back, the other touching his hands.

“I’m so sorry, it’s my fault, if i hadn’t left you there all alone! If I hadn’t been so stupid, then he--”

“Sam, don’t.”

“A son ?! We would’ve had a son, and because I left you alone with a demon, he’s gone. Please, Wyn, I’m sorry I’m so sorry.” 

He dissolved into unintelligible sobbing, Wyn stroked his hair and clutched him tightly in comfort. She allowed him to feel this heartbreak. She had years to cope with this loss, for Sam it was fresh and came with a great big helping of guilt on the side.  

They lay together, as Sam eventually managed to swing his long legs up on the mattress. Wyn soothed Sam’s raw nerves. Eventually, there was a knock at the door, and Sam managed a weak tone, for Bobby and Dean to go ahead and eat without them.  To enable them more time, to allow this to just be between them for a bit longer. 

“If you’d like,” Wyn spoke softly, arms wrapped around Sam’s shoulders, “I have a couple pictures. In my bag. But only when you’re ready…”

She felt a tenseness from him, but he looked up with still wet eyes, read and puffy, “Where?”

Wyn told him where to find them. Between the pages of her journal in the front pocket of her duffle, and he quickly returned with the leather bound pages in hand. Carefully, he unlatched the front, and opened the cover. The pictures were face down. 

With shaky hands Sam reached out. His long digits grasped the slightly crinkled edges of the two photographs, and turned them in his hands. 

The first was a picture of Wyn in the hospital bed. In her arms, was a tiny bundle. Her finger gently touching, the cheek of the tiny baby. 

Sam let out a small wounded gasp. Both their faces wet with tears.

Wyn grimaced. The picture wasn’t exactly kind to her. The kidnapping had taken a visible toll on her. And the miscarriage had a taxing experience to say the least.

The next picture, Wyn braced herself for. A sight she had steeled herself for and managed to find beauty in after all these years. Melissa McCall had been right all those years ago. Wyn was grateful for the pictures. 




Sam held the second picture, allowing the other to rest on Wyn’s journal. The image was a closer picture of Tommy. Sam let out a shaky breath and the picture shook in his hands. He stared at the picture of the tiny figure, with silent tears falling from his eyes. 

He wasn’t sure how long he gazed at the image of the son he would never know. But enough time passed, he realized the sun had set. Wyn’s eyes had fallen shut in sleep, but her arms still wrapped around Sam.

When he awoke, he realized he had fallen asleep with the picture of Tommy still between his fingers. 

Carefully, he extracted himself from Wyn’s gentle embrace. He rearranged the covers over her, after checking her bandages to make sure they hadn’t bled through. Then, with a deep sigh and sniffle, Sam placed the pictures onto the bedside table, on top of the leather bound journal. He remembered the Christmas she had received the gift. From John Winchester.

Did Dad know? He thought inwardly. The thought that John must have known, made his heart ache further.

Hunger stirred him to action, knowing Wyn would also be needing food when she awoke, Sam left the small room. 

Trudging downstairs into the early twilight, Sam was relieved when he spied Bobby asleep in his chair. A book on Japanese Demonology on his chest. Steady snoring rumbling from the hunter. 

Turning into the kitchen he saw Dean sitting at the small table a beer bottle in his hands half empty. An unopened one right across from him, with a cold sandwich on a small plate. 

Sam took a deep breath and sat across from Dean. He looked up and could see the concern in his brother's eyes. Sam was certain he looked awful. His eyes felt puffy and crusty from crying for hours. Still overwhelmed with exhaustion, Sam felt more weary than he ever had before. 

Dean reached over and twisted the top off the bottle, and placed it next to Sam’s hands. Wordlessly allowing his brother the opportunity to speak. Already feeling more tired than he thought possible, he unloaded the heavy burden on his heart. Speaking the name of the son he lost before he knew him. How he had been yet another loss at the hands of the Yellow-Eyed Demon’s plans. 

By the end, Sam could see glassy green eyes staring back at him bravely, and grabbed the whiskey bottle at the end of the table and poured into the two glasses Dean had prepared earlier. Dean held out one glass to Sam, and he took it without question. 

Dean raised his glass, looking at Sam in the ‘big brother’ way that meant he would be there, always.

“To Tommy Winchester. Sorry we never got to meet you.”

Sam raised his glass as well, and they both drank. The weariness was still there, but the weight was a little bit lighter.

Chapter Text


"The following morning, Wyn began to stir, but stilled when she saw Sam’s eyes still closed. Instinctively, Sam curled up tighter around Wyn's smaller form, and a warm smile crossed her lips. Long legs draped over her own, an arm over her hips, and a head nuzzled into the crook of her neck; Sam always was a snuggler.

She tried to even out her breathing. However, Sam must have felt her shift because he began to stir as well. A gentle slow inhale of one chasing consciousness. His hazel eyes drifted half open, looking up into hers.

“Good morning!” Her smile drew wider as she ran a hand through his sleep-mussed hair and beheld her love with a supportive gaze. 

When she had dealt with her grief, “dealt with” meaning drinking enough to make the frat boys on campus concerned, she had done it alone. Sam wouldn’t be alone, and she would be damn sure of that.

“Morning,” his rough voice came, followed by him clearing his throat. 

“How’d you sleep?” Wyn asked gently. 

Sam managed to force a half-smile, and shrugged. 

Kissing his forehead and then his nose, Wyn pulled back. “Sorry, I’m sure my morning breath is bad.”

Sam’s expression softened and he leaned in to kiss her, “Didn’t even notice.” 

“Sure, you didn’t,” Wyn let out a laugh as she rolled her eyes, “I’m definitely gonna need a shower.” She hadn’t properly cleaned since before the witch’s cabin.

“I can help you,” Sam went to rise, only to be pulled back quickly.

“Woah, there cowboy. I’m not done with snuggles yet,” Wyn felt Sam tense, then soften into her embrace again. “Hey, you okay?” She asked, this time wanting a real answer.

His face shifted. He obviously wasn’t okay, but she wanted to be able to help him. It had taken her years to fully process and deal with what happened. 

Sam was at a disadvantage, since time wasn’t a luxury they could afford. 

“I just feel so helpless, Wyn… I couldn’t protect you. I know, you don’t blame me, but I still blame myself. And almost losing you again?” Sam shook at the memory of her covered in blood.

“Well, that one was my own stupid fault,” Wyn admitted, “Shouldn’t have gone in alone.”

“You’ve gotta be more careful,” Sam looked directly at her with serious intent, “You can’t hunt on your own. Period. You haven’t done this for as long as Dean and me, and we still get hurt. Promise me, you won’t do anything like that again.”


“Wyn, please! I can’t lose you!” 

She softened. Sam’s shoulders were tense, and she could see the fear and vulnerability reflected in his gaze. 

“I promise.”

Sam let out a relieved breath and cupped his hand against her face, kissing her with a gentle tenderness that made her shiver.

“Besides, don’t think I’ll be hunting again anytime soon. My strength definitely lies in research,” Wyn let out a wry chuckle and sat up, stretching her shoulders and back with a few cracks sounding out.


After a quick shower, which Wyn unconvincingly insisted she could handle on her own, Sam changed the bandages on her deep cuts and noted they already appeared to be closing up nicely as clotting and scabbing was already present on the outer edges of the marks left by the daeva’s claws.Then, Sam carried Wyn down the stairs, much like he had the day before. 

Ultimately she allowed it without too much fuss. 

When they reached the main study, they saw Bobby--who greeted them with a friendly “Good morning!”-- already prepping coffee.

 Lowering Wyn carefully down onto the old sofa by the window, Sam placed extra pillows behind her for support. She shook her head fondly, but let him play the role of caretaker. Guilt had a funny way of manifesting, and she figured Sam needed to take care of her for a bit. 

By the time Wyn was settled comfortably and Sam had retrieved a book she wanted from their room, Dean was trotting down the stairs, showered, shaved, and dressed for the day. 

“Mornin’ you two! How you feeling Winnie?” 

“I’m still kicking,” Wyn smiled up at the elder brother, “I think coffee’s about ready if you need.”

“Sweet java goodness, here I come. You alright, Sammy?”

Sam looked up, shaking away the daydream he had been lost in, “Huh?”

Dean’s brow creased together in a small frown. It obviously wasn’t easy to see Sam in pain, but he quickly replaced it with a disarming smirk, “Still off dreaming. What do ya say to my mile high pancakes?”

“I’m good,” Sam said, shaking his head and lowering his gaze again while leaning a little closer to Wyn. 

Dean exchanged a quick look with Wyn and nodded, “Okay! I’m making pancakes for everybody that wants em!” He clapped his hands together and rubbed, making his way into the kitchen and greeted Bobby.

“Hey,” Wyn reached out for Sam’s hand, taking it gently, “why don’t you go ahead and see if Dean needs help.”

Sam's eyes looked big, and full of insecurity, and it broke her heart. He didn’t want to leave her alone. He definitely needed something to distract his busy mind.

“Go. I’ll be fine. Got my book,” she raised it slightly, “and I got Bobby.” Wyn nodded at the hunter who had just entered the room holding a steaming coffee cup in each hand. She could see him blushing at their intimacy through the scruffy hair on his face. 

“You sure?” Sam asked. 

She nodded and kissed his fingers, making Bobby clear his throat and let out a small, embarrassed cough. Sam blushed, but he graced her with a small genuine smile before rising and following his big brother’s path into the kitchen. 

Bobby settled in what she was certain was his chair and leaned over to hand her a mug that looked like a souvenir from New Orleans. Wyn made a mental note to ask Bobby if he had ever known a hoodoo priestess named Madame Minuit.

“Dean said you take it black, hope that’s alright.”

“Perfect! Thank you,” she blew across the top of the black liquid, the steam dancing off into the air.

“You ever had Dean’s famous breakfasts before?” Bobby asked, clearly trying to maintain good spirits for the sake of everyone in the home.

“I have been fortunate many times actually!” She grinned and took a quick sip of coffee, “I remember being surprised when I found out Dean was a good cook. Couldn’t believe how he learned that with life on the road.”

“You’re welcome!” the hunter peered proudly back at her from behind his mug.


“What? You think John taught him?” Bobby asked a sarcastic drawl to his words.

“Guess not,” she conceded, “Doesn’t exactly strike me as blueberry pancakes for breakfast type,” Wyn gave a disarming chuckle. 

“Nah. It was one time when the boys were staying,” his eyes glazed over with the memory, “It had been going on almost two weeks. Dean was about sixteen or so. There had been a big snow, and the boys were getting cabin fever. Ya know, they were grating on each other more than normal. Arguing like crazy.

“So, to ease the tension, I finally let Sam have access to a coupla restricted books from my library. Stuff I thought was a little too advanced for him at the time. And I was about ready to send Dean out to the garage to get started on an oil change that needed done, and outta the blue he asks if I’ll teach him how to cook.”

Bobby shook his head fondly, grinning, “I’d seen how Dean was curious. Whenever I’d make up biscuits and gravy in the morning for ‘em, or a good meaty chili that’s good on cold days. That night we ended up picking buncha things out of the cookbook, and made a damn five course dinner.”

From the kitchen, the sound of Dean directing Sam on what to give him next and to “Move Sam! Your gangly limbs are all over the place,” made them both smile. 

Bobby continued, “It went like that for a coupla weeks more. Finally, after a bunch of meals that were way too big, I asked him why he was interested in cooking all of a sudden and you know what he told me?” He asked lowly, near a whisper.

Wyn shook her head. 

“He told me that they usually had nothing, but frozen food and tv dinners. He wanted to make Sam something healthy whenever he managed to scrounge up a little extra money, since he could tell he wasn’t growing fast enough. Same day that I found out Dean was sent to a boys home when he was caught stealing a loaf of bread from the local supermarket the year before. Oh, I about filled John full of buckshot the next time I saw him.”

The hunter looked near fuming at the memory. 

While, Wyn managed to suppress shock at his words. She had no idea that Dean had gone to a boys home. In fact, she wasn’t even sure Sam knew.  

The expression of the old hunter turned forlorn and regretful, “We fought. I said stupid things, and he was a stubborn ass. Things weren’t the same after that. Couldn’t hold my tongue as well as I used to. All that next year, we fought every time we saw each other. One big blow-up fight, I ended up cocking my shotgun and telling him to leave. 

“After that, John never came back and never brought the boys by. Dean would call me every now and again to catch up. He kept managing to make dinners out of the box a little bit better. Didn’t see them for a while, until Sam ran away.”

Wyn’s eyes widen. 

“Sam ran away before?” she kept her voice low, beyond the earshot of the two Winchesters. The sound of the skillet louder than their conversation thankfully. 

“Oh yeah. Wasn’t the first time, I hear. This time, Sam was almost eighteen when he took off again.”

Bobby took a long drink from his coffee cup, before continuing, “I remember Dean called me in a panic. I was on the phone with him when I answered the door, and it was Sam, looking like an angry lost puppy. Apparently, there’d been a big blow up between him and John. Something about Sam wanting to stay in one place for school.”

The argument sounded quite familiar. And Wyn found the image of Sam, as an angry lost puppy rather adorable.

“Anyway, I cooled him down, and by the time Dean and John made it here, they were able to come to an agreement. That’s when they decided Sam would finish high school in a nothing town in Oregon,” he spoke with a knowing tone to his voice. 

Wyn watched as he hoisted himself up from his chair and crossed to a large book he had placed over the mantle. When he returned, he held a leather bound photo album. Dusting the cover off lightly and gently lifting the cover, Bobby sat next to her on the old sofa. 

Taking their time, they admired each page. 

Wyn was surprised to find it was mostly pictures of the guys with Bobby throughout the years. Building snowmen in the autoyard, various little league pictures, some just them as boys making funny faces for the camera. Images of birthday parties with just the three of them. Occasionally, other kids would be in the pictures. Bobby explained sometimes another hunter with kids might swing by. There were even a few pictures from one Christmas. 

John was absent from those photos, too. 

“I know it’s mushy, but I don’t know. They became my boys. Certainly didn’t have any of my own to look after.”

The words made Wyn shift, and Bobby went silent. Obviously aware of his blunder in stumbling onto the topic of conversation most delicate, but Wyn pressed forward. She couldn’t stay in a pit of grief her entire life. 

“Knowing what I do now,” she spoke slowly, “I don’t know if I could bring a life into this world... if I could help it. I always imagined a family someday, but knowing what this life does to a family... Wouldn’t it be better to not have any children, than put them in danger?”
Bobby sat still for a beat, his gaze just looking at the Winchester boys in the kitchen  with a  fond misty eyed expression on his face. 

“I never wanted kids. Broke my wife’s heart, too… But I didn’t exactly have the best example. Didn’t have a clue what it meant to be a good father. I was terrified of screwing things up. Lost my chance when Karen died. Lost all my hope for any kinda happiness in this world. Until I met the boys,” the corners of his lips turned up and his eyes crinkled. 

“And I don’t know. First time John asked me to watch over ‘em for a coupla days, I swear I could hear my Karen’s voice telling me, ‘Get these boys full bellies and the love and attention they obviously need.’” 

He cleared his throat with a tight smile pulling back on his emotion, “So I did. Everytime, I wanted to holler at John, I just remembered that if I made him mad enough, he might not bring Sam and Dean around anymore. So, more often than not, I rolled over and let John get his way. Until, well - ya know…”

The sound of Sam laughing and yelling out, “Dude cut it out!” Which was echoed by Dean’s mocking imitation. Dean apparently used the remaining pancake batter to flick in Sam’s hair.

Bobby chuckled and shook his head, “Ah, it’s easy to rag on John’s parenting skills, but damn he loved his boys. Two perfect reflections of the goodness between him and Mary. I never had the courage to say anything to John before I did, mostly cause I could see how much he loved ‘em. How terrified he was of losing ‘em. And he tried. Lord, help him, he tried.”

“I hit him once,” Wyn spoke, her own memories of John Winchester stirring up.

Bobby’s brows shot up at that. And she nodded, “Yup. Actually, the last time I ever saw him. We were fighting, he said something that upset me and I hit him. Told him to get out... And I never saw him again.”

“If there’s anything huntin’, old age and drinkin’ has taught me - it’s you can’t change the past. All we can do is try to make the future a little bit better.”

Wyn smirked affectionately, “Well said, sir.” She raised her mug to clink against his own.

“If you could,” he spoke softly again, “keep this between us. I only tell you all this, cause I can see it: what you are to them. The both of them,” Bobby smiled gently, took a sip, then cleared his throat, “Looks like I better step in and wrangle these idjits or we’ll never get to eat.”

The young woman gazed after him with a bright warm smile, as he stepped into the kitchen. Swatting both Sam and Dean on the back of the head lightly, before stepping between them. 

Bobby peaked back over his shoulder and shot a knowing wink back at Wyn. 




Sam and Dean stayed two days longer than originally intended. No one stated the obvious that they were pushing their luck. Before long they would have to move on. 

Early on their fifth day, Bobby got a call on his cell. A hunter had gotten wind of hunt that they weren’t able to get to. 

After getting a decent breakdown from Bobby, the guys prepared to head out, but only after Dean had made a careful assessment whether Sam was ready to leave Wyn behind. Wyn was still recovering, which was more than enough to give Sam pause, but Wyn reminded him it was best for all them if he and Dean kept moving. 

Finally, Wyn was able to convince Sam by promising that she would remain at Bobby’s until further notice. 

After all, Bobby’s library was a thing of legend. They had only ever spoken over the phone about some of the volumes he had. Since she was finally in Sioux Falls, it was the perfect opportunity to continue her research. 

The research, she reminded him privately, was possibly the answer to finding out why the demon wanted them and how they could stop Yellow Eyes. And to what their shared dream-vision could mean. 

Sam negotiated one final night together, before the brothers were to depart. 

That night, Sam made love to Wyn with a sweet gentleness that made her tremble with euphoric affection. Careful of her injuries, he held himself above her, moving slowly and tenderly with his eyes never leaving hers. Finally, when she could no longer hold back the tantric orgasm that built up from his attention, her eyes rolled back and mouth dropped into an ‘O’ as she  Drowned in the pleasure that was Sam. 

The lovers fell asleep snuggled close together. Neither could bear the space between them. So they slept peacefully, maintaining physical contact as much as they could. When morning came, they were never more than a foot apart, while everyone prepared for the day. 

When the time came for the boys to head out, Sam and Wyn stood a short distance from the Impala exchanging a private and intimate farewell. Meanwhile, Bobby helped Dean load up the car, warning Dean to keep his nose clean at least until they made it through a couple counties. 

“That new lady Sheriff has been on my ass. Don’t need her nosing about and connecting you boys back here.” 

Dean agreed to keep his halo on until they hit Wyoming, after switching out their plates for good measure.

When they finally said, “Goodbye,” Bobby just stood quietly next to Wyn as the Winchester boys pulled away down the driveway, past the sign that read Singer’s Auto Salvage. He stayed next to her long after they disappeared from sight, until she turned to him, and he asked pleasantly what she wanted for lunch. 

The days following, Wyn and Bobby discovered they enjoyed each other’s company quite a lot. He impressed her with his linguistic abilities, and she impressed him with her scientific and philosophical knowledge. Not to mention her baking. 

She may have gone overboard making cookies and muffins, in an effort to thank the man for his hospitality. The hunter would grumble that she was going to give him diabetes, but kept getting up from his desk chair to replenish his glass, and always returned with another baked good item. 

Wyn loved looking through Bobby’s books and tomes. His library was far more expansive than her own, and quite frankly put her total occult collection to shame. For the first time in a long while, she actually felt like she was making progress on her research. 

The first day the boys were gone, she discovered a Latin translation of a book that was basically an index to a limited number of demon prophecies. That started her down the rabbit hole. That book led to a volume from Rome that pointed her in the direction of an abridged collection of letters from a rabbi. 

Eventually, after trudging through the rambles of the old letters, Wyn’s heart skipped when she read the rough Hebrew translation of the title she had been so desperately chasing. Only to be let down, though, when she asked Bobby about what the letters referenced. He explained all he had was an old index with bare bones information.

“Makes sense,” the hunter commented as he handed her a pair of cotton gloves designed for old books, “that you’d be interested in prophecies and whatnot. Given your and Sam’s inclinations.”

With great care, he handed Wyn the old leather bound book that he kept locked in a cabinet with his oldest books. They were very delicate and needed to be protected from moisture and light whenever possible. She quickly put on the gloves, and immediately dove into the text. Bobby chuckled lightly at her enthusiasm and took a long sip of his scotch. 

“You seem like quite the aficionado yourself,” Wyn said, her eyes never leaving the page, her fingers trailing lightly down as she sped read.

“Ah,” he waved his hand dismissing her praise, “I don’t know anything about prophecy.”

“Your collection would say otherwise,” Wyn grinned teasingly.

“Oh, I find them fascinating to be sure. But the trouble is that it can be complicated. We’re talkin’ Faulkner-level-stream-of-consciousness complicated. You can’t know anything when it comes to this stuff. Prophecies were made centuries, sometimes millennia before they are meant to take place. 

“Problem is that humans have free will, so there are different paths a prophecy can take, that all depend on specific events to occur. That’s why it's so hard to figure out what the original text can mean, because situationally it changes over time. And with all of life’s history that’s a lot of things that have to happen in just the right way.”

The thought made her uneasy. A demon, like Yellow Eyes, had nothing but time. He could have been working on his master plan for who knows how long. There was momentary silence, as she continued searching the book, when her eyes scanned across five words in particular that had Wyn nearly jumping up in excitement. 

For the first time since she had seen the words written in John’s journal, she saw printed on paper, ‘... the multiple forks of the Regius Puerum et Reginae Pallidus prophecy…’

“Bobby!!” She exclaimed, and Bobby jumped slightly at the sudden outburst, nearly spilling his glass over the volume he had been invested in. 

“Sorry,” Wyn cringed, “The translation I found referenced something. I wanna hear your thoughts on it,” she read directly from the index, “‘ The Boy King and Pale Queen will be marked by a Prince to bring about eternal change and a new age of Hell. The second shall be the first to seize the crown. Wherein the paths forked will design the Destined reign ’. It’s the first reference to a forked prophecy I’ve found.”

“‘Eternal change?’ ‘Bring in a new age?’ Seems awfully vague. See that’s what I’m talking about,” Bobby tapped the page lightly, “Language like that, not even taking into consideration how many times this thing has been translated, is meant to keep people guessing. True meanings of prophecies are nearly indecipherable, except by the prophet who wrote the original words.” He shrugged, “If you believe in prophecy anyway...”

“You don’t?” she asked, genuinely curious.

“Ah, I think people put too much stock in words written down ages ago. There are things that I’m sure hunter’s still don’t understand… but we control our own lives. Make our own choices. That’s what I believe. But who knows? Gotta be something to all this right?” 

He gestured to the open pages laid out on the coffee table, “With all the supernatural secrets we know… makes ya nervous to think about what we don’t know.” Then, he finished the amber liquid in his glass and frowned at the empty bottom before rising to refill his drink.

Maybe Bobby was right. What if all of this worry about demons chasing after some prophecy about her and Sam, was just a wild goose chase and wasn’t meant to come to anything? 

Something in Wyn’s gut told her they weren’t that lucky.

“What does it mean, a forked prophecy?”

“Well, those are usually some of the oldest prophecies. Ones made before Abrahamic times. Usually, it’s a prophecy about all existence, or something that would have universal consequences. 

“Forks are possible explanations or paths that a prophecy may take. They’re always the most convoluted, because they take into account free will and certain possible outcomes throughout time.”

Suddenly, Wyn felt like she hadn’t made any progress at all. Instead of finding out answers, she had pulled back the curtain only to reveal a tangled web of indecipherable meaning. She feared that the only way she would truly understand, would be to find the actual book of prophecy. But John had searched for it for years, unsuccessfully. Maybe it was truly lost forever. 

She sighed heavily.

“Maybe you should take a break,” Bobby suggested, “You look exhausted, and you’ve been at it for days.” 

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Wyn conceded, closing the index. If she needed, it would be here. She handed the book back to Bobby, who then tucked it safely back in the locked cabinet. 

A series of loud knocks on the door followed by the doorbell, stirred both their attention. Bobby’s brow furrowed, and he went to the window and peeked out. 

“Balls!” he exclaimed.

“What is it?”

“The Sheriff. Good thing the boys left when they did. I’ll get rid of her.”

He beelined for the front door. 

Wyn could hear the sound of voices coming down the hall. Carefully, she rose to her feet, wincing when she felt her skin stretch under the bandages. She hissed, her hand going to her side, and followed Bobby’s steps.

Turning the corner, she could see the face of the irritated sheriff. The sheriff seemed rather young for the position. Her brunette hair curling up from under her hat, big chocolate eyes narrowed pointedly at Bobby. It seemed she was arguing with the hunter about an odd vehicle seen a few days before. Apparently, he had been unsuccessful is dissuading her suspicions. 

“Hello!” Wyn chimed in brightly, earning surprised looks from the both of them. “I’m Wyn, Bobby’s niece,” she closed the distance to the door, and extended her hand. 

The Sheriff glanced at her hand, before taking it. Wyn opened her mind and allowed herself to get a basic read of the woman. 

“Sheriff Jody Mills,” she shook Wyn’s hand, firmly twice, before releasing her grip, but it was more than enough time to tell Wyn all she needed. 

Sheriff Jody Mills, while very suspicious of Bobby, mostly viewed him as harmless. Her aura was vibrant and strong. One of honesty and directness. But Wyn could feel the deep capacity Jody had for compassion, and a desire for a large family. Wyn could sense Jody was a good woman, who didn’t deserve any vitriol for simply being ignorant of their delicate situation. 

“Niece?” Sheriff Mills inquired.

The warmth from the reading filled Wyn, “Yeah, something like a second uncle twice removed. I was in a car accident recently, and Uncle Bobby has been taking care of me while I’m on the mend.”

Bobby’s expression looked surprised, but then quickly adapted to the lie Wyn was spinning. 

“Oh…” Jody Mills looked between the two rather sheepishly, “I didn’t realize, you had family in town. That tip must’ve been kids making trouble. I, uh, sorry to bother you.” 

“Oh no bother at all,” Bobby chimed in, “I could be a little less crotchety, I guess.”

“Wait here,” Wyn said, and hurried to the kitchen and grabbed a plastic bag, and filled it with the last couple of blueberry muffins she made that morning. When she returned, gifting the bag to the sheriff, Jody blushed with a humble, “Thank you.” 

Now that the confrontation was effectively defused, they said their farewells, and the sheriff apologized again and thanked them for the muffins. 

Bobby looked slightly disappointed as Jody Mills then returned to her patrol car and pulled away. A look that did not go unnoticed by the young psychic. 

“Ooo,” Wyn nudged Bobby, “You got a thing for the Sheriff?”

“Why’d ya hafta go and give her the last of dang muffins?” he shook his head, and closed the door. 

“Because, now,” she explained, “Sheriff Mills has a reason to go easy on you the next time she sees you. You catch more flies with honey, Singer!”

Bobby continued to grumble as he reentered the study, before muttering something about making lunch since his snack was gone. 

Wyn just smirked. 




Chapter Text

Dean couldn’t help but stare. 


There she was in front of him. And she made him a freakin sandwich! It was the best damn sandwich he had ever eaten, hands down. Dean would fight anyone who said any different. 

His mother gave him a curious look, “Wanna eat that any faster?” 

“Seriously,” he said through a half chewed bite, “this is amazing!”

“If you say so,” she said with a smile that made the entire room light up. Dean didn’t think he could be more happy, unless, “Say you heard from Sammy lately?”

“Spoke to him this morning actually. Here,” she rose and pushed a full glass of water in Dean’s direction, “You keep eating. I’m gonna finish tidying up. They should be here by late afternoon.”


“Yeah, Sam and Bronwyn.”

“They’re coming together?!”

“Yes,” she said with confusion lacing her voice, “for my birthday remember?”

“Right! Of course! That’s-- That’s great! How are they doin?”

“Sounds like they’re doing really well. Sam’s kicking ass in law school, Bronwyn’s just finished her masters, and started an internship at a neurology research clinic…” she looked out the front window, lost in her own thoughts, “Ya know, I was worried, when they decided to stay together when they went off to college. Long distance relationships ya know… they rarely work out, but they surprised me! Goes to show, true love conquers all,” She said with a chuckle.

“Yeah… I guess so,” Dean’s expression one of hopeful disbelief. 

Maybe this was real. His food sure tasted real. The soft lines around Mom’s eyes and a few creases on the forehead seemed real. The ‘what if’ of his wildest dreams sitting in front of him, within arms reach. 

“Hey Mom?”


“You got any work that needs gettin’ done around here?”

“Well, the oil in my car needs a change, but I don’t expect you--”

“I’m on it! You got fresh oil?” 

The blonde woman blinked at him rather surprised. Huh, guess this version of me isn’t too helpful around the house.  

“You know what?” Dean took a final bite, and dusted his hands together, “I’ll take care of it! I’ll check under the hood, then hit up the closest auto store.” 

And with that Dean had a glowing sense of purpose. He didn’t know the downside to this, but he was beginning to think that things might not be so bad, if the djinn granted his deepest wish. It was far from perfect… Dad was still dead. But Sam was with Winnie! That was sure as Hell something. 

Dean took great care doing all the chores he could manage. Every now and then, his mother would just give him an odd discerning look, but he just smiled in return. He had just finished mowing the lawn, when an unfamiliar car pulled up with two very familiar passengers. A big smile spread across his face as Sam and Wyn got out of the vehicle. 

Mary opened the door behind him, and called out, “Hey you two! You’re early.”

“There was hardly any traffic,” Sam replied, “so we made great time.”


Dean rose, as the couple made their way to the front steps. Sam made a face at the greeting, but extended his hand. 

“Dean. Good to see you.” 

The elder Winchester tilted his head at the aloofness of his brother and awkwardly shook his hand. “Winnie!” He smiled, “You look amazing!” 

“Thanks, Dean,” Wyn exchanged a curious look with Sam.

Mary stepped forward, Sam and Wyn both giving her a big hug, “Come on in!”

Everyone retreated into the cool air conditioned home and settled comfortably in the living room. Dean pulled a few beers from the fridge before joining them. 

“Are Liddy and Thomas still coming?” Mary asked.

“Yup!” Wyn replied happily, “Mom called while we were in the car, “She and Dad will meet us at the restaurant.”

“Your parents are coming?!” Dean blurted out, forgetting his filter. The other three looked perplexed at his outburst.

“Yes?” Wyn’s expression turned to concern, “Dean are feeling alright?”

Dean looked at his loved ones each in turn. Something didn’t feel right. 

“Good. Yeah, I’m… I’m good. Just a little tired I guess.”

“Well, no wonder,” Mary chimed in, “you hardly slept and you’ve been going non-stop all day.”

“You slept here?” Sam asked, “Everything okay with Carmen?”

“Oh,” Dean blinked rapidly, “Yeah, we’re uh, we’re cool. I just had a weird night, I guess…”

“Maybe take it easy on the alcohol next time,” Sam’s words on the surface were teasing, but there was a cold distance underlying them. 

Dean let out a, “Hm,” before taking a long sip of his beer.




At Mary’s birthday dinner that night, Dean sat across from Sam and Wyn, with his mom on his right and his apparent dream woman, Carmen, to his left. Dean couldn’t help but stare when he saw Wyn’s parents walk in the door, only having seen them in pictures. He might have shed a manly tear seeing Wyn reunited with her parents.

As they settled for their, Dean tried to forget the gnawing in his gut that something about this whole thing wasn’t right. 

A waiter came to their table, and distributed menus to everyone. Mr. Evans ordered some fancy wine, stirring a small objection from the birthday girl. 

“It’s your birthday,” Mrs. Evans smiled, “and I declare as your best friend that you can drink all the wine you want. Besides, you’re not paying for anything.” 

Dean perused the menu, wrinkling his nose in distaste. Peering over to other tables he could see the portions were miniscule. He’d just have to suck it up for his Mom. 

After the waiter returned, filled all their glasses, and took their order, Carmen leaned over to whisper in Dean’s ear. 

“Don’t worry, we’ll go through a drive-thru later and get you a cheeseburger,” Carmen smiled, placing her hand on the top of his thigh.

Dean just stared back in wonder, “You really are perfect aren’t you?” 

“Guess that makes you pretty lucky,” she teased with a playful grin. 

“Well,” Mrs. Evans raised her glass, and everyone followed suit, “here’s to a spectacular woman, a phenomenal mother, and a wonderful friend. To Mary Winchester. Happy Birthday!”

“Happy Birthday!” They all echoed in response, each taking a sip in honor of her.

Sam cleared his throat, speaking with a shaking excitement, “Not to steal Mom’s thunder, but I already got the okay from her. I’ve got something important to say… ask, I mean.”

Mary smiled knowingly. Wyn looked confused. Dean had a pretty good idea what was about to happen. 

“Wyn,” Sam moved his chair back, got down on one knee and took her hand in his, “from the moment I saw you, I knew you were the one. And even though everyone said we were crazy, and too young, nothing else mattered but you,” he pulled a small velvet box from his coat.

“Oh my God, Sam…” Wyn was tearing up, and Dean could see her shaking with excited disbelief. 

“Bronwyn Evans,” he opened it and Wyn gasped, “will you marry me?”

“Yes! Yes, of course I will!”

Joyful exclamations erupted around the table, and applause broke out around the restaurant. Sammy was grinning ear to ear, and Wyn was still misty eyed when he put the ring on her finger. 

A waiter came by in the blink of an eye with a celebratory bottle of champagne. And even though he was surrounded by joy and love, Dean couldn’t ignore the dark pit in his stomach. How fucked up was his life that this all seemed too good to be true? 

It was then he saw someone. A young woman, a girl staring at him. Her face pale and sunken. Immediately, he beelined toward her, making his way past waiters and diners, but when looked again, she was gone. 

There was definitely something wrong.




Dead. All those people he and Sam had saved were dead. Dean stared intently at the headstone before him. Words etched on the stone: John Winchester. Beloved Husband and Father.

Dean couldn’t help, but think their family was cursed. Why did they have to sacrifice everything? Why did their family have to die so others could live? Tears poured down his face, as he spoke aloud to the memory of his father. Deep down he knew what he had to do, but that didn’t make it any easier. Because, none of this world was real.... right?




Dean was right. 

None of it was real. The first real thing Dean saw was Sam rushing towards him in urgency.


Everything was fuzzy, but Sammy was there. “No place like home,” Dean managed, his voice sounded like he had been gargling with broken glass. 

Sam delicately pulled the needle from Dean’s neck, “I thought I lost you, De,” he uttered, a shaky worry evident. Then moved to try and remove the bindings around Deans wrist, unhooking him from the chain. 

“About did,” Dean’s eyes widened, locked behind Sam. 


Sam turned, but a little too late, as the Djinn tackled him to the ground, Dean collapsing in a heap. 

Dean winced and grunted in pain, trying to bring himself to his feet, but his whole body hurt, and shook weakly. Desperately, he tried to free himself from his remaining bonds, as the fight unfurled in front of him.

Sam swung his knife at the Djinn, missing but only barely. Sam was fast, but the monster was faster. It pinned Sam against the wall, twisting his arm forcing him to drop the knife. 

Dean scrambled for the knife, while Sam struggled trying to escape on the metal staircase in the dank warehouse.

By some miracle, Sam was able to find him, but the effects of the Djinn’s poison were still taking a massive toll on Dean’s physiology. Fight through the pain , his Dad’s words echoed in his mind. 

The older hunter turned to see the Djinn holding Sam down, ready to release his poison. With a fierce yell, Dean plunged the knife into the creature’s back and twisted. The light flickered in the Djinns eyes, and when Dean pulled his knife out, it fell over dead. 

A quick examination showed his giant little brother to be unharmed, then he remembered the girl he had been seeing. The one who had helped him realize what was going on.  

Slowly limped towards her, still reeling from the effects of the Djinn’s magic. He gazed at the poor girl, pity and regret overwhelming him, but then like hope itself, he saw the tear roll down the girl's face. 

His fingers quickly felt for a pulse. 

“She’s alive! Sam, she’s still alive!”




Sam flipped his phone closed and sat on the motel bed next to his brother, “Hospital says the girl’s gonna pull through. Looks like we got to her just in time.”

“That’s great,” Dean muttered. 

“Yeah it is,” Sam peered at his brother. He knew that Dean needed to give details of what happened willingly, but it was almost like he was upset to be back. 

“Dude, you alright?”

“Yeah… Yeah I’m fine,” he scoffed, “Man, Sammy you should’ve seen it. We had family. No monsters, no hunting. Though, I managed to take you down easy.”

Sam let out a genuine chuckle, “Makes sense. If Dad never got into the life, he wouldn’t have trained us.”

“Dad played softball,” an amused grin appeared on Dean’s face despite his best efforts, “But Dammit, you and Wyn were gonna get married, Mom was so happy… why do we have to sacrifice everything Sammy?”

“We help people, Dean.”

“I know, I know. It’s just-- why us? Huh? I don’t wanna lose what little I have left. And watching you and Wyn it’s like a frickin melodrama!”

“Me and Wyn, we--” Sam sighed, fingers coming through his hair, “we both know how it goes with us. Right now it’s too dangerous.”

“But after all this time you guys deserve—”

“We can’t think about that. It would be selfish… When this is all over, I’ll take Wyn to Disneyland or something. Then, we can have our happily ever after. But for now we’ve got work to do.”

Shoulders lowered, Dean sighed out. They deserved happiness didn’t they? Him, Sam, Wyn… the three of them had to catch a break eventually.

Chapter Text

Everything was black when Wyn felt someone shaking her urgently. Groggily opening her eyes, she was surprised by the image of Sam's confused and concerned expression coming into focus.

“Wyn, are you alright?” he asked. 

“Sam?” The young psychic blinked and looked around. “Where… where are we?” 

Wooden dilapidated buildings surrounded them. It had clearly been raining within the past several hours, as puddles of mud and dirty water littered the empty road. It reminded Wyn of an old-timey village that Aunt Stacy used to take her to as a child. 

“I don’t know.” Sam said, helping her to her feet. and giving her a moment to dust the dirt from her clothes. “What’s the last thing you remember?”

“I don’t know….” she strained to think, “I went for a walk to stretch my legs in the auto yard. Then there was this really intense smell, which I’m just realizing was probably sulfur. Then I woke up to you shaking me!” Wyn looked grimly at Sam.

“Demon…” he uttered.

 Wyn urgently checked her coat, thigh and inside of her boot, only to realize everything was back at Bobby’s. She was without any of her weapons, including the Archimedes Mirror she used at the witch’s cabin. All she had were the clothes on her back, plus her necklace and charm bracelet, but she never took those off. 

Sam mimicked her, and all his pockets turned up empty as well. Then, his attention snapped to the sound of approaching footsteps around the side of the building. Picking up a broken wood plank and hoisting it up in defense, Sam made a motion for Wyn to get behind him. She silently obeyed and fell in close behind him, alert and at the ready. 

Then, there was yelling.


“Andy?!” Sam exclaimed in surprise.

Bells rang in Wyn’s mind as she recalled the story that Sam and Dean shared about their experiences with the other psychic children being stalked by the Yellow-Eyed Demon. Andy seemed to have become a friend to Sam and Dean. She distinctly remembered something about a long lost evil twin. 

“Sam?? What are you doing here?” 

The shorter young man appeared quite alarmed, and only barely comforted by a familiar face. Wyn could see his aura pulsing with anxiety and fear. Brown curly hair, and wide innocent fear-filled eyes. The empath in her wanted to reach out and comfort him, but held back until at least introductions could be made.

“I-I don’t really know,” Sam exchanged a quick look with Wyn before focusing his full attention on his friend, “Are you okay? You hurt?” 

“Who’s she??” Andy’s voice rose in pitch.

“Hey, just breathe. Calm down.”

 “Where the hell are we?!”

“I don’t know, Andy! Look- what’s the last thing you remember?”

The hoodie-clad young man let out a steady breath through a tight ‘O’ of his lips. Then, stood straight, fingers rubbing his eyes. 

“Honestly, it’s been kind of a crazy night. Around the fourth bong load, things got a little fuzzy. There may or may not have been magic mushrooms involved.”

“I like him,” Wyn grinned. 

The corner of Sam’s mouth twitched, amused at her levity, before refocusing on his friend. “Andy, this is Wyn. She -- uh, She’s my, uh--” The whole soulmate thing wasn’t exactly an easy thing to explain.

“I’m his better half,” Wyn said, trying to lighten the air and calm the poor guy down. “Nice to meet you!” 

“Hi.” Andy waved softly, before redirecting his attention to the taller boy, “Sam. What is going on? How did we end up in freakin’ Frontierland?”

“I don’t know, but we--”

“What about Dean?” Wyn asked suddenly, just realizing his missing presence. 

“Your brother?” Andy asked, suddenly hopeful, “Please, tell me he’s here.”

“No, he isn’t. I don’t even know if he’s…” his voice trailed off, the lingering implication as his face fell and his jaw tensed anxiously.

“We’ll find him Sam,” Wyn stepped closer, trying to seem as reassuring as possible. 

Sam simply nodded, evening his expression. They both knew they had to keep it together, especially if the demon was the one behind this. 

A scream got their attention, and Sam immediately sprung in the direction of the cry, Wyn following close behind, with a reluctant Andy behind her. 

“Help me! Help me, please!” The cry was coming from behind a locked door, the person inside, banging on the wood trying to get out. 

“Okay, I’m here,” Sam rushed up, taking the lock in hand examining the citation quickly, “We’re gonna get you out, all right? Just hold on a second.”

“Sam,” Wyn spotted a large rock on the ground near their feet, and pointed it out. 

Sam grabbed the large rock and smashed the padlock on the door, in two strong swings. 

“Please!” the girl cried again.

Nimbly his fingers, opened the lock, and the door flung open to reveal a terrified looking girl about their age with mousy brown hair, and bright blue eyes.


“Oh my God! Sam!”

The girl fell into Sam’s body flinging her arms around him in a huge, distraught hug.

“So, I guess you guys know each other,” Andy said with a nervous chuckle, giving Wyn a side glance.

“Seems so,” Wyn raised an eyebrow. Ava sure was milking that hug.

Sam must have read her unamused expression, as he took Ava and held her about a foot and a half away, “Right, yeah. Ava?!” His own shock and surprise, quite evident. 

“How did you—I mean, how did you—” Ava turned her expression to Wyn and Andy, who waved meekly, “Who are they?”

“Hey,” the shorter man clutched his arms tightly crossed in front of him, “Andy. Also freaking out.”

“Wyn. Been better.”

“Ava,” Sam moved his head to get her attention again, “have you been here this whole time?

“What whole time? I just woke up in there, like, a half an hour ago covered in spiderwebs and junk. What’s going on?”

“Well, you’ve been gone for five months. My brother and I have been looking for you everywhere.”

“Okay, that’s impossible,” Ava took a step back shaking her head, “because I saw you like three days ago.”

“You didn’t. I’m sorry,” Sam exchanged a worried look with Wyn. She remembered how worried Sam had been when he heard about Ava going missing. In fact, the worry had sent him in a downward spiral of self-blame.

“But… that makes no sense. That’s not—” Ava’s eyes widened and she brought a hand to her mouth, “Oh my God! My fiancé, Brady! If I’ve been missing for that long, he must be freaking out!”

Wyn felt a twinge of guilt for her momentary jealousy earlier. She had completely forgotten about the murdered fiance. How were they supposed to break the news to her?


“Sam, where are we?!” Ava started to tread back into hysterical panic, “What’s happening?”

“I, uh, I don’t really know yet,” Sam shifted as a thought popped into his head, “But I know one thing: I know what the four of us have in common.”

“Hello??” A masculine voice called out from the distance, “Is anybody there?”

“Ooh, what now?” Andy practically wailed.

“Maybe more than four,” Wyn cocked her head, and exchanged a knowing look with Sam. 

“Hello?” Sam called back in response.

Soon, the four of them were rushing to the sound of the new strange voice. They ran to the other side of a large rundown building, and turned revealing a tall young black guy in an army combat uniform and a blonde girl looking withdrawn, but focused and alert. Both, same age as the four of them.

“Hey! Hey, you guys all right?” Sam asked, taking the lead.

“I think so,” the soldier replied.

“I’m Sam.”

The small group made humble introductions, everyone still keeping a cautious distance from each other. The soldier's name was Jake, his voice deep. The blonde girl was Lily. 

Wyn took the opportunity to quickly evaluate all these strangers at once. As the introductions continued, she allowed her sight to see beyond. The moving and living aura’s surrounding them could tell her a lot about their situation. 

Jake’s aura was similar to Sam’s. Deep, rich red reflecting strong survival instincts, laced with sharp anxiety. 

Andy was a light yellow reflecting his natural intelligence and easy going nature, but was pulsing a muddy gray of steady fear. 

Lily had the same obscuring fear over a core of muted yellow. Showing she was afraid of herself, not the just situation they found themselves in. 

When her glance fell upon Ava, Wyn was surprised to see nothing but a muted hazy air about her. There was no clear color or form. For some reason, Ava’s aura was hidden.

“Have you seen anyone else?” Wyn asked the newcomers.

“Nobody,” Jake replied, shaking his head, though he seemed relieved to find the people he had.

Lily looked about ready to fall apart, “How did we even get here? A minute ago, I was in San Diego.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better, I went to sleep last night in Afghanistan.” That explained the uniform.

“Let me take a wild guess: you two are both twenty-three?” Sam said knowingly, “We all are. And we all have abilities.”

“What?” Jake’s brow drew together in disbelief.

“It started a little over a year ago?” Sam continued piecing everything together, “You found you could do things? Things you didn’t think were possible?”

“How do you know that?” Lily asked, a slight accusatory intent in her tone.

“Because the same thing happened to us,” Sam explained, “I have visions. I see things before they happen.”

“Yeah me, too,” Ava added.

Wyn frowned. If she had visions, then why couldn’t Wyn see her aura? It’s almost like it was being hidden from view. 

“I can put thoughts into people's heads,” Andy spoke up, “Make them do things. But for some weird reason I don’t think it works on you guys. Oh, but lately, I’ve been practicing like meditation and stuff, and now I can beam out images, too.”

“I can see and alter memories,” Wyn opted to leave out being able to observe auras. Something in her gut wasn’t sitting right, and right now, the only person she knew she could trust completely was Sam.
The only thing that gave the others credibility was being able to see the genuine reflection of their emotions. Ava, however, was a complete mystery, and it was rather off-putting. Although, Wyn recalled Missouri once told her some people’s abilities, even “normal” people, shielded themselves. Some didn’t even realize they were doing it, but it was rare.

“So, you go, ‘Simon says give me your wallet’, and they do?” Lily’s voice cracked, “You have visions? That’s great! I’d kill for something like that.”

“Lily, it’s okay,” Wyn stepped closer to her reaching out to comfort her. Without even touching Lily, she could feel the pain emanating from her. 

“What the- NO STOP!” Lily practically jumped back in retreat, making Wyn freeze in her tracks. “The hell it’s okay. I touch people? Their hearts stop. I can’t leave my house, I can’t see my friends, my….” Tears welled in eyes, “So screw every last one of you. I just wanna go home.”

“And what, we don’t?” Jake lashed out.

“Shut it, Soldier Boy!” 

“Guys, stop!” Sam said, raising his hands to defuse the tension, “Look, whether we like it or not, we’re all here, and so we all have to deal with this.”

“So how did we all end up here?” Andy’s voice was still full of anxiety, “Who did this?”

Sam and Wyn exchanged a meaningful gaze, with Wyn giving Sam a subtle nod. They deserved to know the truth.

“We’re pretty sure we were brought here by a demon…”

Ava looked at Sam like he was crazy, “What does that mean?”




“So, we’ve been picked to be soldiers in a demon war to bring on the Apocalypse?”

“Yes,” Sam spoke resolutely.

Jake looked incredulous, “Why us?”

Wyn replied, “We’re not sure, honestly. But we do know that--”

“Seriously Sam,” Ava groaned out loud, “Psychics is one thing, but demons?”

“I know it sounds crazy,” Sam was doing everything in his power to keep the situation from falling apart.

“It doesn’t just sound like it,” Jake muttered under his breath. 

Wyn could feel her frustration bubbling beneath the surface, “Watch it!” She retorted.

“I don’t really care what you think, okay?” Sam spoke with an authoritative tone, “If we’re all gathered here together, then that means it’s starting. If we want to survive we’ve gotta—”

“The only thing I’ve gotta do is stay away from you freaks,” Jake turned to leave, “I’m better off on my own, and FYI, so are the rest of you.”

Jake stormed off leaving the group to their own devices. Sam’s brow furrowed as he watched the young man walk away. Wyn didn’t need to be psychic to know that Sam wanted to follow him for his own safety. 

Ava groaned softly and rubbed the temples on her head, “This is just too much.”

“Jake, hold on. Jake!”

“Just let him go, Sam,” Ava said, “if he wants to be on his own, he’s a big boy and can probably take care of himself.”

Wyn and Sam exchanged twin looks, before wordlessly following Jake’s tracks together. Sam had the right idea of strength in numbers. The other three followed meekly behind. Not like they had any better options. 

Jake had wandered out of sight, but it was still easy enough to see which way he went. His footprints showing clear in the muddy ground. The group's pace remained light and easy, until they heard a yell!

“JAKE!” Sam hollered and bolted in the direction of the sound; Wyn and the rest struggling to keep up with his sprint. 

“HELP ME!” Jake’s cry was coming from one of the buildings that was falling apart. A cursory glance told her it was an old schoolhouse. By the time they all reached the door, Jake was on the floor clutching his chest, and Sam was swinging an iron poker through the ghostly figure attacking Jake with all his might.

In the blink of an eye, the terrifying spectre dissipated into black smoke and flew out the door past the stunned observers. Lily, Ava and Andy all let out surprised yelps, jumping back in fear. 

Jake looked up at Sam with stunned disbelief in his eyes. Wyn stepped further into the room, gazing around to make sure the threat was gone.

“Just so you know?” Sam panted from the adrenaline, “That was a demon.”

“That was an Achiri wasn’t it?” Wyn asked.

“Yeah, it was, but that still doesn’t help us figure out where we are,” Sam spoke, helping a grateful Jake to his feet. 

Regrouping outside, Sam’s gaze shifted to his friend. “Hey, Andy, you good?”

“Yup, uh-huh, just working through ‘demons are real’,” he let out a nervous laugh, eyes staring ahead in a blank look. 

“Welcome to our world,” Wyn muttered. 

“We need to find supplies. Weapons,” Sam said, looking at the stunned and terrified group. He began leading the group back through the main street in time. In the center of the main crossroads was an old bell hung over a well. 

“Sam, does that bell look familiar?” Wyn squinted as they got closer. 

“Yeah,” Sam said, his brow furrowed in thought, “It does. I think I know where we are now: Cold Oak, South Dakota. A town so haunted, every single resident fled.”

“Oh, yippee, who doesn’t love history!” Ava retorted, earning a glare from Wyn that didn’t go unnoticed by the others. 

Lily’s eyes pooled with tears, “Why would that demon thing, or whatever, bring us here?”

“That’s a valid question,” Andy raised a finger in response. 

“I - I can’t do this, we have to get out of here!” Lily turned to leave, only to be halted in place by Sam’s words. 

“Wait, stop! We’re surrounded by miles of woods, you’ll never be able to get out before nightfall.”

“Screw you! Beats hanging out, waiting for demons to show up!”

“I think he’s right,” Jake said nodding his head slightly, “The best chance we have--”


“LILY!” Wyn jogged to catch up with Lily. Seriously, did she just miss the part where someone was attacked when they wandered off on their own? Shaking her head in exasperation, Wyn pushed her judgement aside, “Lily, please! I know you’re scared…”

“You don’t know anything!” Lily turned around, agony and grief pulsing off her aura, “I - I touched my girlfriend…” she took a shuddering breath, “the first time I found out about ‘this’,” she waved her hand in the air, “You have no idea what I’ve been through.”

“Please, just listen,” Wyn tried once again. The girl stopped, as if waiting to hear if Wyn had anything good to say, “We’ve lost people, too: family, friends. We’re all scared. I know this situation sucks major balls, but the best chance we have is to stick together and follow Sam’s lead. He knows all about this stuff. We’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

Lily looked back at Sam, who stood a few feet closer by, and then returned her gaze to Wyn. The others stood back awkwardly in anticipation for her response. 


Once he was sure the drama had passed, Sam gave instructions to everyone, told them what items to look for, and led them into the largest building on the corner. It looked like it used to be the saloon. The building was in better shape than the others, and would provide a decent enough shelter in the meantime. 

Wyn looked around at their group. Everyone was clearly exhausted, and the growling in Andy’s stomach told Wyn they were all just as hungry as she was. Pairing off, they all set off to search  the kitchen for supplies. Much to Wyn’s displeasure, Sam was off with Ava somewhere. 

Something still wasn’t sitting right with her. As soon as she got the opportunity to be alone with Sam, she planned on telling him about Ava’s aura, along with her gut feelings. 

On the other hand, Wyn adored Andy. Based on what she could remember from Sam and all that she could read from his personality, Andy was a good friend to have around. Warm, intelligent, and if she wasn’t mistaken, a definite playful streak. 

“You find anything?” Wyn asked, closing another barren closet behind her.

“Uh, Wyn, this is good right?” Andy asked,  pointing to the several ten-pound bags of rock salt he had just found in a lower cabinet.

“Guys!” Wyn called out, “Andy found something!” 

Sam, Ava and Jake hurried into the room. Andy held up two of the bags, one in each straining hand, with a proud grin on his face, “Salt!”

“That’s great, Andy. Now, we all can…” Sam’s voice trailed off and he looked around the group, “Where’s Lily?”

“Crap…” Wyn’s face fell.


She felt a sinking feeling in her gut, as they all began searching for the missing girl. She couldn’t blame her, she guessed. Fear made people do stupid things. 

The small group stepped back outside, after searching the entire building. When they looked up, Ava screamed out and Andy gasped, and brought a hand softly to cover his mouth. Wyn felt her heart sink at the sight of Lily hanging by a noose; her skin a pale blue.  

“Oh, my God!” Ava exclaimed, “Okay, that’s —Sam, she’s dead! She’s dead! You said we were chosen for a reason. That is not chosen! That’s killed!”

“She was only gone for a minute…” Wyn said softly, feeling her gut wrenching in on itself. 

“Okay,” Ave threw up her hands, “we have to get out of here.”

“Stop it,” Sam said sternly.

“Yeah,” Andy’s voice wavered, “I second that emotion.” 

“Not sure that’s an option,” Jake said in Sam’s defense. It hadn’t taken him long to figure out the situation they now found themselves in.

“What do you mean?” Ava challenged.

“Lily tried to leave,” Wyn said, crossing her arms, looking up sadly at the poor girl, “The demon’s not gonna let us get away that easy. It’s got us right where it wants us.”

“We should gear up for the next attack,” Sam looked to Wyn and Jake as they were the ones holding it together the best.

“Gear up?!” Ava exclaimed, “Are you-- NO! I can’t do that. I’m not a soldier, Sam!”

“Well, guess what?” Wyn stepped close to Ava, officially sick of her attitude, “if you wanna stay alive, you’re gonna have to shut up and do what you’re told!” 

There was a beat of awkward silence before Jake stepped forward calmly, “I’ll get her down,” he said looking up at the hanging body with sympathy. 

Sam nodded and softly acknowledged Jake with thanks. 

While Jake did what needed to be done, Ava stood close by with her arms crossed, looking rather perturbed at Wyn, but didn’t speak further. Andy, still quite upset, was practically glued to Sam’s side. 

Wyn wrapped her arms around her front, bracing herself against the sudden gust of cold wind, “I wish Dean was here…” she said looking to Sam, “I miss his laugh-in-the-face-of-danger vibe right about now.” Not to mention she really wanted to just wrap her arms around Sam and not let go. 

Sam scoffed, “Same. What I’d give for a working phone...”

Andy’s eyes widened, “You know,” he looked as if he was working through something in his mind, “you may not need one. My beaming out thoughts and images thing? I think I can try it long distance. Do you have anything of Dean’s on you? Or anything he touched?”

“Uh…” Sam felt in his pockets, “just a receipt?”

“That should work,” the young man shrugged.


All they could do for now was wait. Wait for another attack. Wait for Dean on the off chance he got their message. Wyn hated just sitting around, but since it was night, their best shot at staying alive was staying put and together. 

Andy and Jake were sitting quietly in the kitchen, as Wyn stood by the window near the doorway, watching. From this area of their temporary shelter, everyone could keep an eye on each other. Ava entered from one of the side rooms and sat quietly in the corner, Sam followed close behind her. 

Ava’s expression was distant, and Sam looked exhausted. When Sam’s gaze met her own, they felt an instant magnetic pull to each other. Finally, Wyn was able to wrap her arms around Sam, not caring about the awkward-not-staring from Jake and Andy. Sam’s tense muscles relaxed as he held her tight, his face pressed down to the top of her auburn hair. 

“You okay?” She asked.

Sam exhaled on a scoff, “I hate delivering bad news.”

Wyn connected the dots between his exhausting burden of guilt and Ava’s somber visage. He must have broken the unfortunate death of her fiancé. 

“Sit,” she ordered. 

Sitting in the rickety chair next to her,  Wyn began rubbing Sam’s temples lightly in an attempt to absorb some of his weariness. If they wanted to get through this in one piece, Sam needed to be able to focus. Thankfully, they were granted a modicum of privacy if they spoke softly, the distance between the group being just enough to keep an eye on the weary crew. 

Sam slowly and gently took one of Wyn’s hands and brought it to his lips, kissing lightly, “I missed you,” he whispered. 

Wyn smiled, turning his face up to hers, “I’ve missed you, too.” 

“How are you feeling?” He asked, raising his fingers to lightly touch her nearly healed injury.

“Not bad,” she confirmed, “It’s starting to scar up. Bobby’s been taking good care of me. He’s a good man.”

“Yeah, he is,” Sam’s gaze shifted, as a thought took him away.
“Hey, don’t worry,” she encouraged, “You know that Dean and Bobby are looking high and low for us. We’ll figure this out.”
“I know... I know they are. I was just thinking,” Sam swallowed and gave a sad smile, “I was just thinking about Tommy…”

Wyn didn’t say anything, but kept her breathing steady. 

“After all this, if we manage to survive,” Sam said sardonically, “I want to go back to the Homestead. Visit his grave.”

A matching forlorn smile crossed Wyn’s lips, “We can definitely do that.” She leaned in closer and kissed him. 

“You should sit and rest,” Sam nodded to an empty chair, “we all need all the strength we can muster.”

“You’re probably right,” she kissed him once again, and was suddenly filled with a sense of tender longing. Wanting more than anything for the earth to swallow them up together and to plop them onto a tropical desert island with luxury cabanas and a shit ton of tequila. Although, a funny feeling told her that the odds of that happening were slim to none. 




Wyn’s heavy eyes blinked, as her head nodded up sharply. There was a surprising chill in the night that had been helping keep her awake for the past few hours, but it seemed her body was finally losing the battle to sleep. 

She clenched her eyes tightly, exhaling, and willed her eyes to regain focus. When her eyes opened again, a stark panic shot through her at the sight of the familiar man with the yellow eyes standing in the doorway to the kitchen - a dark grin on his face. 

“Andy, behind you!”

“Guess again, kiddo! Didja miss me?” His yellow gaze lit-up gleefully. Everything was going exactly the way it wanted. “Just you and me, sweet girl. Thought it was time you and I had another little chat. Follow me.”

Wyn stood warily, examining the room. Jake was standing by the door, Andy sitting in the corner, knees bouncing nervously, and Sam in the opposite corner, eyes trying to stay open. Regretfully, she followed the Demon into the night.

The monster that caused her so much pain, had the audacity to be whistling. Anger fluttered hot inside her, and she clenched her fists tightly.

“We’re going to kill you, I swear.”

“That’s adorable, what makes you think that?”

Wyn’s mind filled with the voices of Sam and Dean and their various promises to keep them all safe, and take down the thing that destroyed their families. 

“Because a Winchester always keeps their promise.”

“Consider yourself a Winchester do you?”

Realizing the implication, her heart pounded and cheeks flushed warmly. She steeled her expression, shook her head and stared the hellspawn down. It was a reach, but she had some knowledge she hoped would be of use.

“I know about your plans for us. For me and Sam,” she tried.

The evil creature chuckled darkly, “Oh, really? And what nasty little plans do I have for you?”

Regius Puerum et Reginae Pallidus … am I right? Some kind of prophetic destiny BS?”

The Demon’s yellow eyes didn’t flicker in surprise like she had been hoping, but rather in subtle admiration.

“Indeed. The Boy King and his Pale Queen,” The Demon shook its head lightly, staring at Wyn intently, “He was right about you. You will be the perfect queen, a beautiful mother of Hell... I sure hope Sam wins!”

“What?” She felt a foreboding chill run down her spine.

“That’s why I wanted us to have this chat. You see this whole thing,” he waved a finger around in a circle, “comes down to a victor. I can’t take all of you. Just the best and the brightest.”

“I-I thought that all of this was to raise an army,” Wyn’s heart rate ticked up. 

“Oh, no. The army is already taken care of and waiting for the opportunity to succeed. I need someone to lead my army. The power of twin souls would make my plan all the more perfect,” his grin was making her more uncomfortable by the moment. 

The Demon continued, “The others really were more insurance, in case things didn’t go my way these past few decades. You and Sam were always my favorites. All my Special Children will fight to the death. Hopefully, with you two surviving. Because, unfortunately for you, there’s no use for you, if Sam doesn’t survive.”

Wyn’s gut dropped, and felt the air leave her body. 

“That’s the plan Destiny has for you, my sweet girl.”


Wyn woke suddenly to the sound of Andy’s voice, and she turned to see Jake’s serious concerned expression looking over at her, from where Andy shook Sam awake. 

“Ava’s gone,” came Jake’s grim announcement. 

“What?!” Sam exclaimed, “How long has she been gone?”

“We don’t really know,” Andy said sheepishly. “We both kinda noticed at the same time, but I think we both mighta dozed off...sorry.”

“No, it’s,” Sam rubbed his face to wake himself up, “Let’s just find her.”

“Wait! Sam!” Wyn said urgently, “There’s something you should know about Ava. I can’t see her aura. I think she’s been blocking it.”

His expression turned thoughtful, “What do you mean?”

“I mean that she doesn’t just have visions. She must be stronger than she’s pretending, because she can hide her aura from me.” 

“She could just have different abilities, like you, like Andy?” he reasoned.

“Andy and I,” she gestured between the two of them, “have been training our abilities. For months!

“And all I got is my strength,” Jake pitched in, “I’ve been holding back pretty much since it started.” 

“Just like you, Sam. You’ve always suppressed your visions, that’s why your abilities never progressed. What the hell has Ava been doing all this time?”

Sam’s brow drew together, tightly knit. His eyes darted, searching through his own rational mind - evaluating all the information. He knew better than to question either of their instincts by this point. 

“Alright, we need to at least stay in pairs. Wyn, you and--”

“I think I should go with Jake. You stick with Andy.” 

Sam’s eyes grew wide, “No, but- Jake no offense, Wyn I’m not leaving you alone!”

“Sam,” she crossed her arms, “trust me. If the worst has happened and Ava’s gone dark, she’s more likely to come out of hiding if you and I split up. Something tells me she’s not going to go after the two of us together.”

“I don’t like it.”

“We’ll all stay close,” Jake suggested, “it’s safer for all of us. Wyn and I can go check by that old school house. You and Andy stick close to here and search the perimeter. That way, we’re not far out of sight, and well within earshot. Any of us needs help, yell out the signal to come runnin. If we don’t find anything, then screw Ava, and the rest of us wait out the night.”

Sam exchanged a stern gaze with Wyn, obviously still not crazy about the plan, despite how reasonable it may have sounded. 

“If we’re taking a vote, that’s not the worst plan ever,” Andy said. “And when we all get out of here, I also suggest we all get incredibly stoned.”

“Hell, I’m facing AWOL after this, count me down for that,” Jake said with a disarming quality.

Another moment of silence. “Five minutes,” Sam finally said, “Five minutes, and we all meet back right here, agreed?”

“Agreed,” they all echoed.

They each armed themselves with either an iron poker, or metal rod courtesy of Jake’s superman strength. An iron pipe heavy in Wyn’s head, she nodded confidently to Sam with a smile, and turned to follow close behind Jake. They walked down the dark street, and Wyn heard a low rumble of thunder in the distance. 

Perfect. A storm just made things a million times better. 

“So,” Jake’s low voice spoke as his eyes carefully scanned their surroundings and the continued down the path, “you can see auras?”

“Yup,” she responded, doing the same, “When we were all together, I looked at everyone’s. It helps me figure out who to trust.” 

“What did you see when you looked at mine?” he asked with genuine curiosity.

“I saw that despite the fact that you were freaked to hell, you could see that others were scared too, and you wanted to help them. That despite the fact that you were in the exact same situation, you immediately chose to step and help. Like Sam’s.”

“Huh. Thanks, I guess,” he said rather hesitantly, “So do you see other things, too? Like in your dreams?” 

Wyn stopped. Jake took an extra few steps then turned to look back at her. 

“Sounds like you have,” Wyn said cautiously. “What do you dream, Jake?”

“About a man with yellow eyes.” 

Then, a horrible yell sounded from back at the crossroad. Jake and Wyn shared a twin look of fear, then took off at full speed in the direction of the distress. Jake’s strides moved nearly twice the distance of her own, as he raced ahead of her. 

Wyn’s heart pounded, adrenaline pumped through her veins as Jake’s silhouette shrank into the darkness. Quickly, she pushed her legs to keep running, and saw Jake duck back into their shelter. The single dim light glowing from the kitchen.  

Finally, gasping for air, she skidded into the kitchen only to gasp at the sight of Jake snapping Ava’s neck, Sam looking terrified, and black smoke going through the broken salt line at the window. Then, with horror she cried out when she saw Andy lying on the floor, deep gashes cutting open his front, exposing his insides. 

“Oh God, Andy,” she said covering her mouth lightly with her hand. 

“Jake?” Sam’s tone made Wyn look over immediately. She could see a distant look in Jake’s eyes. An emptiness that had not been there before. Now his aura, once bright and hopeful, was pulsing with dark corruption.

Ava lay in a crumpled heap at Jake’s feet, while the tall young man just stared down at her.

Carefully, Sam and Wyn moved towards each other subtly shifting toward the nearest exit. 

“Jake, you with us?” Sam grabbed Wyn arm and put himself between her and Jake, who was now staring at them. Wyn still held onto the metal pipe for dear life.

“The man with the yellow eyes told me how it has to be,’ his voice distant and monotone, “Only one of us makes it out of here. I have to make it out of this for my family.”

“Jake,” Sam managed to move them backwards toward the door still propped open, “it doesn’t have to be this way. I promise, me and my brother? We will find a way to beat this thing, but you can’t let it win!” 

Jake stepped closer slowly, but he was closing the distance between them. He had no weapon, but they had both bared witness to the fact that he had little need for one. Sam held out a small knife they had scavenged, desperately guarding Wyn. 

“My little sister,” Jake said, eyes grew desperate, as though he wanted them to understand, “she’s a genius. She’s gonna find the cure for cancer, AIDS, all that shit, I know it. I do this, and I can give her the world.” A dark grin crossed his face, “Literally.”

“You do this?” Wyn held her arms up, carefully. “And there won’t be enough humans left on this planet for her to save. Jake. I know you are a good man. Please, remember that!”

The only shot they had was to plead with the innocent good man still in there, the one behind the fears the demon was manipulating. 

“I’m sorry,” Jake spoke. He grabbed Sam’s arm and wrenched it, causing Sam to drop the knife and yell out in pain. Jake threw Sam to the side with astonishing strength. Now, unguarded, he swung his fist across Wyn’s body and threw her flying back against the wood fence. 

The sound of crunching wood and a sharp pain in her side, made Wyn see bright stars, then blacked out momentarily. 


She managed to shake off unconsciousness quickly, bringing a hand to her head, and pulled back relieved to not find blood. Only to then panic seeing Jake above Sam swinging his fist downward. 

Using all her strength, she rose to her feet, and grabbed the pipe that she dropped when Jake knocked her back. Sam lay on the ground, his arms over his face guarding from Jake’s swings. 

Wyn took the heavy pipe tight in her hand, bringing it up high and swung the blunt metal against the back of Jake’s head. She heard a crack and saw blood spurt quickly, then Jake fell into the mud heavily. 

Frozen, the young psychic stared at Jake's still body. Was he breathing? She couldn’t tell. Oh, God, what’ve I done? Then, a cough from Sam stirred her back into action. 


Wyn lowered herself to her knees, hoisting Sam upright. With desperation, she flung her arms around him holding him close. 

“Sam,” she nearly wept, “we have to get out of here. Come on!”

“Wyn, stop,” he protested weakly.

She managed to hoist him up to his feet, and they stumbled a few paces before Sam fell to his knees once again. She lowered herself to his level, pleading with him. 

“Wyn, I need you to listen to me,” Sam held her face in his hands, slightly away so he could be sure, she could see the intensity in his eyes. “When the Demon came to me, he told me a lot of terrible shit. But he showed me the plans he has for you. I can’t--I can’t let that happen.” 

Sliding his hands down, Sam took her smaller hands, and placed them gently to the side of his head.
“Sam, wh-? What are you doing?”

“There’s only one way I can think of to protect you. You have to change my memory.”

Wyn jerked her hands away in horror, “NO!”

“Yes!” He took her hands once more, placing one against his temple. “It’s the only way to keep you safe. The Yellow-Eyed Demon won’t let me go so easy. If he looks into my mind and sees my memory - if you make me believe that Jake killed you - Maybe the Demon won’t come after you. At the very least, it’ll give you a headstart.”

“Sam,” Tears poured from her eyes, it felt like her heart was being ripped to shreds, “No...” A sob erupted from her throat.

“When you’ve altered the memory. You have to hide, and run as soon as you get the chance. Run far away! I can’t let him use you for this!”

“Use me? Sam--”

Sam held her body close, trying to savor every last second he had before everything changed. If they managed to get out of this unscathed, she could find her way back to him. Even if it took a very long time, Sam had to protect her. He had failed so often, or so he believed, that he needed to do anything possible to keep her safe, despite the pain it may cause him.

“I’m sorry I didn’t fight harder for you,” Sam uttered in a broken whisper, “No matter what happens I want you to know you were the best thing that ever happened to me... I never stopped loving you,” a tear slid down his cheek. She inhaled with a quick shuddering breath.
“Sam, I love you. So much, please - please don’t make me—“ Wyn cried.
“You have to,” he took her other hand, and once more put it to his temple, “Please, I can’t let the Demon get his hands on you.”
Wyn shook her head, sobbing. 

Sam silently prayed to God to watch over her. He didn’t care what happened to himself as long as he kept Wyn safe. Tears fell freely down the soulmates cheeks as thunder rumbled in the distance. 

Lips met in a final kiss, sparking a warm hope between them. Finally, Wyn released her power, and the tendrils began working through his mind to lay out the new memory. Sam’s body tensed as his eyes clenched shut at the sensation. 

And then it was over. 

Wyn’s breath came in deep puffs, as Sam momentarily remained in a slight trance. Eyes open, but not seeing.

 Rain began falling. First lightly, then gradually heavier. Wyn reached around her neck and removed her necklace, carefully placing it around Sam’s. 

“Goodbye, Sam. I will find you again someday. I promise,” her fingers lingered on the pearl and silver charm.

Fighting the tightness in her heart and dark sense of foreboding, Wyn ran.


Wyn ran to the far part of the abandoned town. Seeking a hiding place that wouldn’t be too far. Desperate, and already feeling guilty for her part in Sam’s request, she had to keep an eye on him. The effects of her power likely left him weakened, not to mention the pain he must still be feeling from his encounter with Jake. 

At the sound of a familiar voice, she stopped running. In disbelief, Wyn turned back at the sound of someone calling out Sam’s name. In the distance, she saw Sam staggering forward down the main road of the town, and then Dean emerged from behind a building. 

The brothers called out for each other in joyful surprise, but neither would be able to stop the figure sneaking up in the rain. 

“Sam, look out!” Wyn and Dean yelled at the same time, but it was too late. Jake was behind Sam, with a knife covered in mud, that quickly disappeared into Sam’s spine. 


 Th is can’t be real!  

Sam fell to his knees, and Jake turned and ran off into the night. Wyn heard a voice in her head cry out, RUN!

Run. Run. 


Wyn didn’t even realize she had reached the woods, until she felt the tree branches hit her. The wood limbs slapped her face, scratches appearing on the surface of her porcelain skin. Her heart was on fire. 

Absolute pure agony engulfed her. A black hole opening up within her, engulfing all light and hope. 

Sam was dead. 

Dead. Dead. Gone. Gone Forever. All that she loved was gone. Nothing in this world could save her. Her soul felt touched with raw defilement. From the evil that ruined her life. 

The Demon took everything. 


And Bronwyn would take everything from it. If it wanted her to give into her darkness, then so help her God, she would. She would watch it all burn. 

The cold rain pelted her skin, and she heard the anguished cry of Dean Winchester mourning the loss of his little brother, 


His name echoed into the dark night.

Bronwyn’s mouth opened with an unearthly scream unleashing her pain into the black sky, and when her eyes opened, they glowed as Midas’ touch - Bright Gold. 

The Pale Queen awakened.

Chapter Text

The Pale Queen, or Bronwyn as she had been known, was not the same girl she had been mere hours before. In fact, she could not be certain how much time had even passed; hours or days… All that mattered was that she was going to rip out Jake’s spine with her bare hands, and watch his blood drip down her fingers. She would smile as the light left his eyes. 

A fire burned in her, as she continued down the path in the breaking dawn. The night’s darkness was lessening, but the psychic hardly noticed. She no longer cared for her own needs. Human worries didn't bother her in this state. Another day's walk seemed like nothing compared to her desire for vengeance.

“Wyn, honey, you and I need to talk!” 

The queen stopped at the vision of her mentor that had materialized in front of her. The form on the path was hazy and intangible.

“You’re not actually here,” the special child’s voice was cold. “Where’d you get that kind of magic, Missouri?” 

No way the elder psychic was able to cast her astral form this far. Especially, not with the shield Bronwyn had placed around herself. She couldn’t explain it, but all she knew was that she wanted to remain hidden; so she was. Jake would never see her coming. She was certain she was less than a day away on his path. 

“No, I ain’t really here, but desperate times call for desperate measures. I had a vision of you. Saw you lost in your pain so deep that you let the darkness take over your heart! You gotta fight the power it has over you.”

“Fight it?” A laugh-- that didn’t sound like her own-- bubbled up and erupted from her throat, “Why would I do that? For the first time in my life, I’m unstoppable. No more ‘meek and helpless little orphan’ Winnie. And now? I am going to make the bastard that stole my soulmate from me pay dearly .” She stormed past the projection of her former mentor. This conversation was slowing her down. 

“You think you’re gonna fill that void by seeking revenge?”

“Ding-ding-ding,” she spun on her heel, seething in Missouri’s direction, “And we have a winner! And you know what else? I’m going to take this power and make them all pay for the pain they’ve caused me. All my life, evil things have taken EVERYTHING from me. Now, I’m going to take everything from them.”

“You don’t want this.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong, you old fool. I do want this. They want me to go to Hell? Be the Damn Pale Queen of Hell? Well, I’m gonna destroy every last hellspawn that crosses me on my way there.”

“Sam wouldn’t want this for you honey,” the elder psychic’s voice was earnest.

“Don’t!” The ground shook in response to her raging voice, “Don't say his name! He was the only good part of me left, and he’s GONE!”

“I can’t imagine your pain,” the figure's arms opened, an invitation to embrace.

“Stop,” The Pale Queen stepped back, flinching at the gesture, “That won’t work.”

“But I gotta try, because I love you.”

“Stop it,” Wyn grimaced.

“I know, it hurts worse than anything in the world.”

“I said stop!”

“But it ain’t the way.”


The Pale Queen held out her hands and gripped in fury, and the elder psychic clutched her throat gasping for air. Suddenly, icy fear shot through Wyn’s heart, breaking her mad rage. 

“Oh God! Missouri!” Wyn released her power, gazing down at her hands in horror, and the vision of Missouri faltered before she caught her breath. “Oh God, No, what did I do? I’m so sorry I didn’t, I didn’t mean to--”

Wyn collapsed to the ground on her knees, and fell forward holding herself upon all fours. Sensing the proximity of Missouri, she looked up with gold eyes still buzzing with power.

 “Reach out and feel honey, use that power you got for something good,” Missouri stood tall once more, obviously drained, “Look inside you, you’ll feel it…”

Not sure what this could mean, Wyn breathed low. Her hands still shook, feeling the sensation of choking the life from her mentor. She reached inside her very center and felt… warm. There, deep in the darkness drowning her, there was a little hint of light. The light of her soulmate. Sam. 


“Sam’s alive!” Lightness, joy, and solace flooded her mind and soul at the sudden truth. She began weeping for joy. “How??”

“That’s right sugar, I saw in a vision. Dean sold his soul to bring him back. But ain’t nothing you can do ‘bout that right now, not enough time. I’m here to tell you, that boy Jake’s gonna open a door to hell and all sorts of hell’s darkest are gonna crawl their way out.”

“No… I swear I’ll kill Jake myself!” Wyn struggled to her feet, rage still bubbling beneath the surface, while trying to process the new revelations. 

“No! He ain’t yours to handle!”


“You’ve got a bigger task. One that could save an innocent soul, instead of taking a life. You ain’t so far gone that you can’t be redeemed honey. You’re strong. You can fight this, and keep that evil out.”

“Evil cannot corrupt pure love. The twin soul is key.” 

Wyn, felt her old self rise to the surface and brought her hand up to the empty spot around her neck, where her charmed necklace once rested. She could almost feel the weight of the silver protection charm and the leather throng. Power and energy emanated from the core of her being. The darkness and light battling for dominance in her mind, body, and soul.

Letting out her breath, she felt the cold breeze lick through her tousled hair. She looked onto the horizon and saw the old cowboy cemetery she had been trailing Jake to. Feeling the deep darkness still trying to claw its way to the surface, she knew it wasn’t over. 

This was the test that she knew she’d have to face at some point. She just hoped she was strong enough.

“Tell me what I have to do.”




Dean did everything he could to keep it together when he walked through the door of the old cabin. The taste of the demon lips still lingered on his own, and he felt dirty. There was a part of him that was afraid the crossroads demon might have backed out of their part of the deal. But when he saw Sammy standing upright and alive, Dean wrapped him in a hug as tight as he could without fear of injuring his little brother. 

“Thank God…” Well , Dean thought, thank the other guys anyway.

“Ow, Dean!” Sam cringed in pain.

“Sorry,” came Dean’s immediate response and he pulled back, loosening his grip, “I’m sorry, I just-” he swallowed thickly pushing down his emotion, “It’s just really good to see you up and about, is all.”

“Dean…” Sam looked very confused, as he lowered himself carefully to a chair at the table they stood by, “What happened to me?”

“What do you remember?” Dean asked the pit in his gut growing deeper by the minute.

“It’s kinda fuzzy. I saw you and Bobby, and then… there was this pain, this white hot pain and then, I saw you runnin’ at me.”

“That kid stabbed you in the back,” Dean felt a rush of anger at the memory, “You, uh, lost a lot of blood. Passed out… it was pretty touch and go for a while, but you bounced back.”

“There’s no way you could patch up a wound that bad!” Sam said, astounded.

“Bobby could. And he did! Who was that kid anyway?”

“His name is Jake,” Sam’s brow furrowed, then his eyes sharpened as if remembering, “Did you get him?”

“No,” Dean said regretfully, “Bobby took off after him, but he got away in the woods.”

“Dean we gotta find him,” Sam spoke with sudden vigor, “And I swear I’m gonna tear him apart when I do!” He stood with determination.

“Woah, slow down, for one minute—“

“Jake killed Wyn!”

“...Winnie’s dead?” Dean managed weakly. There was a fresh stab of heartbreak in his voice. He and Bobby hadn’t found any trance of Wyn or anyone else in the whole town. They had hoped Wyn had either made it out or at worst was taken by the demon.

Sam’s hand went to clutch the pearl and silver charm hanging around his neck. 

“Stabbed her in her chest, she couldn’t breathe… I tried to stop it, but I couldn’t—“ A sudden wave of exhaustion must have overcome him, because Sam staggered only to be held up by Dean and sobbed.

“Dean, she’s gone, and I feel like my insides are on fire, it hurts so much,” Sam wailed, losing control, and continued to sob into his big brother's arms.

Dean felt heavier than he had when he sold his soul. Not only had he failed to keep Sam safe and it cost him everything, but now Dean had lost the girl he loved like a sister. Only, he had nothing left to give to make it up to Sam.

“Sammy, I’m so sorry about Wyn. If only we had found you guys sooner maybe…”

“I can’t stop,” Sam said weakly, “not until I kill the bastard that took her from me.”

“Just give me a little bit of time to get you right again,” he pleaded and then said with great promise, “Let’s get some food in you first, and you can tell me everything that happened. Then, I swear we will hunt the son-of-a-bitch down!”




A powerful wind billowed through the old cemetery. Black smoke and lightning obscured Wyn’s visibility. Still she pushed her way through. She had wondered how she would hide herself only to see everyone at the scene already quite distracted. 

Wyn nearly wept when she saw Sam alive and well, and saw Dean close by. Then, she steeled her resolve. They had their own fight. She had something equally important to do. 

Fire was visible burning just past the entrance of the large crypt in the middle of the all the smaller graves. Wyn spotted Bobby and an unfamiliar woman struggling with the heavy stone doors. Jake lay still close by, a bullet hole between his eyes. 

A power surged to keep Wyn focused on the task at hand, and she stepped forward now with surprising ease - almost gliding to the entrance of Hell. 

As she drew close, Bobby’s eyes lit up in surprise, “Wyn?”

“You will not remember seeing me!” She raised her hand, waving it before both humans, whose eyes flashed gold briefly from the enchantment. 

Bobby and the woman’s eyes glazed over, as they then continued to struggle with the doors to the crypt. The reluctant queen looked over the shoulder to see the situation getting more tense by the minute. 

The Demon stood gloating over an injured Dean, and he and Sam were pinned motionless to the nearest surface. Moonlight reflected on the gleaming surface of the Colt’s barrel in the hands of the loathsome creature. 

They were all running out of time.  

Wyn moved forward and stood between the stone doors. Black smoke and screaming souls raced past her on their own way to freedom. The one she sought would require help. Her eyes closed in a deep meditation. A warm light began to grow in her breast: an ultimate pure power that few in this world ever touch. 


Wyn reached out, feeling the hot flames of Hell lick her skin, yet she did not burn. Her palm upturned waiting to take hold of a soul reaching for freedom. Damned demonic beings rushed past her as she stood in the entrance to Hell like a beacon. 

Finally, she felt a blistering hot, but glorious joy-filled sensation as she gripped tight the soul of John Winchester. When she pulled him forth from the flames, and peered intently at him, her eyes glowed golden not with malevolent power, but hope. 

“Your boys need you.”

He nodded, and then was off. 

Wyn stepped back clear of the doors and effortlessly released her power, the doors slamming shut. The locking mechanism whirled, then a deep clang of a lock reverberated into the night.

Bobby and the stranger collapsed in exhaustion, and Wyn took that opportunity to retreat into the darkness. 

A loud bang echoed through the now relatively quiet graveyard, causing her to turn once she was hidden to see the Yellow-Eyed Demon looking at Dean with a stunned look in it’s eyes. There was a flicker, then a large pulse of yellow light, and then the Demon fell over. Dead.

The young woman watched from the shadows the momentous family moment. They had done it. Dean had killed the demon that took their families from them. Just like he promised. 

Sam staggered forward and placed a hand on his brother's shoulder, both of them staring in awe at the spirit of their dad. . 

Wyn cried silently as she witnessed the reunion between father and sons. John Winchester looked so damn proud of his boys as he smiled at them with all the love that was never spoken enough out loud. The vision of their father’s spirit faded into a bright light, and Sam released silent tears. 

Sam and Dean stared long and hard, before coming together in a fierce hug. It didn’t last too long, however, when Dean winced from his injuries. Apparently, being flung around by a demon would do that to you. 

Wyn longed to emerge from the shadows and join them, but she stood silent in her resolute decision. Watching.  

“What’s stopping you?” The vision of her mentor clung to the edge of her psyche, so only she was aware. The magic was fading, it wouldn’t last much longer.

“I got so close to the darkness. To Hell. What I almost did, because I lost Sam... I can’t. I can’t be around people I care about. I’d only be putting them in danger.”

“Aren’t you in danger on your own?”

“It’s my fault that Dean’s soul is bound for Hell. I can’t face them until I’ve made things right.”

“Ain’t no way I’m gonna convince you otherwise, huh?”

“I have to do this Missouri. I have to understand who I am.”

“That’s a hard journey to take alone sugar.”

“What other choice do I have? I can still feel it. That power, that darkness… it’s like a buzzing in my veins. I can’t let that taint Sam. Besides, I’m an expert at being alone.”

“Sam deserves to know you’re alive.”

“He has enough to worry about.” She couldn’t afford to be selfish right now. They couldn’t afford it.

“At least your eyes are back to their pretty blue…”

“Yeah,” Wyn scoffed, “at least there’s that.” 

Wyn couldn’t explain it, but deep down she felt it. Knowing that she had allowed herself to become what had been profesized. But even feeling the power at the Gates of Hell and demons rushing past her, she only thought of Sam. Not a care for the power waiting for her to seize the crown, because that’s not what she wanted. That’s not what Sam wanted. 

Now with Yellow Eyes gone, maybe they could make their own plans. 

“Don’t worry, guys,” she whispered, “I’ll fix this.”