This one goes out to my best girl friend Emily, who is a definite Sam-Girl :) Enjoy, darling. ~Ash
Your life has mostly passed by you with a horrendous blur, with very few highlights. But, for a brief period, a few weeks of your life was crystal clear, actually worth remembering. Your mother was involved in the hunting life, except she's in a nursing home somewhere now. You didn't like her all that much, mostly for the harsh way she raised you to be like her. Anyway, back to the clear part. You'd ran into these brothers while on a hunt for a Wendigo about three or four years back, and one in particular struck your fancy. He was tall, had gentle features, and a seemingly more caring personality than his younger brother.
For the life of you, you can't remember his name. Maybe that's because of the memory blockage spell the Grand Coven put on you after your mom went into a home. Yeah, you're not proud of it, but you've became one of the very things you used to hunt, the thing that killed your father and sister...you've become a witch. The Grand Coven forced you into their ranks, teaching you their disastrous ways. Now, you were ready. The people who'd made your life a living hell were going to pay for what they'd done.
"Dean, there's been another victim. I've got the address, let's go." Sam grabbed his duffel bag, heading for the bunker's exit.
The boys fired up the Impala's engine, driving just a few hours to a small town where people have been dropping dead of mysterious and seemingly unnatural causes- just their thing. Once they arrived, Sam and Dean flashed their FBI badges, gaining them entrance to the crime scene. They waited until the cops left to get a closer examination of everything, to begin going through their special checklist.
About 15 minutes into their search, Sam called his brother over to a discovery in the victim's bedroom. A hex bag was found stuffed into the mattress, the tear left unsealed by whomever placed it.
"This is some serious stuff... I mean just look at the ingredients! Whoever did this knew what they were doing." Sam wrapped the bag back up, going over to examine something that caught his eye on the wall.
"So we're either dealing with one of Crowley's henchmen or-" Dean began, being cut off by Sam.
"A seriously powerful witch." Sam took out his phone, snapping a picture of a signature smudged in blood by the window.
As the boys were driving to get dinner, Sam gets a call on his cellphone. An unknown number? Who could it be? Sam explains the situation to Dean, as he receives a text with an address. The boys forget the idea of dinner for now, and rush to the perplexing address. Once arrived, they were amazed at how far-out of the way it was, yet still within city limits. The boys grabbed their guns and Holy Water canisters, entering the house with caution.
"So, the rumors are true..." A female disembodied voice began, sending slight panic into the brothers.
You'd heard there were hunters in town, but didn't believe it true until now. You had an invisibility spell on, using another to cast your voice all over the house. This was the house of your last victim, and you were proud to have finished them off before they arrived. It was nearing midnight, just 30 minutes shy. With a snap of your fingers, all the lights in the house were on, and candles were lit. You kept your hood over your face, levitating in the air above the hunters.
Once you took your invisibility spell off, their guns went straight for you. Smiling, you lowered yourself so that your heels touched the wooden floors. Knowing whatever bullets they had couldn't possibly scratch you, you spoke up.
"It didn't take you guys long. Then again, I did kind of give you the directions..." You still had your head bowed, hood covering your face.
"You're standing awfully close to your death, scum of the earth." You raised your head up long enough for an eye to catch sight of the pair. The one who spoke to you was shorter than the other, with a gruff voice and slight facial hair. Your mind automatically clicked with a name.
"You're Dean Winchester, right? I've heard about you from the Grand Coven." You now lowered your hood, revealing your entire face.
Your (h/c) hair fell onto your shoulders in a sleek fashion, while your normally (e/c) eyes switched to a burning violet. The taller of the two lowered his gun, looking at you with despair and welling tears. What was his issue? Yet, something inside you felt a longing... With a swift wave of your wrist, the boy's guns went flying across the room. Looking at the two, you threw the shorter of them aside, his back slamming into a nearby bookcase. Your mind was irrationally attracted to the other, taller one.
Caressing his cheek, you peered deeply into his eyes. Tears were beginning to drip down his cheek, yet he did not cry. You raised an eyebrow, before elongating your nails and slicing him across the face.
"Who the hell are you?! Why am I drawn to you like this?!" You screamed, picking him up by his flannel collar.
"Sam!" Dean called from the other room. You cast a hand at him, pushing him in pain once more against the bookcase.
"Th-That symbol at the crime scenes... I know it now, I know you." The man whimpered, in obvious pain.
Something inside your head ached, and you dropped him rather forcefully against the floor. Gripping your skull, you screamed in pain as a voice found itself nagging at you. Stop this! He doesn't deserve it! Neither of them do!
"SILENCE!" You roared, energy exploding around you. Dean was tossed around in the other room, hitting several walls, and his head on the mantel.
"Stop this, please! I know you, we can fix this!" He struggled to stand, as you continued to scream.
"No! No, no, no, no!" Banshee resembling wails escaped your throat, causing a wicked fire to erupt in the fireplace, flames reaching outwards.
"Sam, end it now! Finish her off!" Dean screamed over the commotion, but you once more turned your attention to Sam.
Punch, after punch, after punch. Your fist collided with his face, which was growing bloodier and more bruised after every hit. Sam! Sam! Didn't you hear him? The man's name is Sam! It's Sam Winchester! The voice was getting more piercing and prominent. So painful, in fact, that blood had began to trickle from your eye sockets. After you were heaving, and who the voice named as Sam was damn near unconsciousness, you dropped on the floor.
Your last memory was of a warm body holding you, his grisly facial features and swollen eye looking at you with such anguish, you felt something expel from your body. Memories kept flooding back like monstrous tidal waves. Hoards upon hoards of memories, of this boy. Of Sam Winchester.
"S-Sam...I'm so sorry..." You whimpered, sitting up in his embrace.
"It's o-okay, (Y/N). We can fix this. We'll work this out." Dean stumbled out of the other room, blood dripping from his head wound.
"Yeah, I'm just gonna go back in there." He collected himself, after seeing you and Sam so close.
You entwined your fingers in his hair, pulling his forehead to yours. Despite nearly killing him, he didn't seem to mind all that much. Sam was your achilles heel, your one weakness in the face of all your infernal, somber strength. Sam lightly pushed on the back of your head with what strength he had left, bringing your lips together. His blood dripped onto your tongue, but you dismissed that for the bliss of the moment.