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huntertales · 7 years

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Complete Edition: There’s Something About Sam. (Swap Meat S05E12)

Pairing: Sam x Reader Word Count: 13,475. Summary: Sam’s been a little bit different lately since he went missing the other night. Little do you know, the man isn’t quite like himself. Warnings: Spoilers for Swap Meat, as this is a total rewrite of the episode, Sam centered for my Sam!Girls out there. Canon violence, that’s it!

GUESS WHAT? There's an entire episode rewrite dedicated just to my Sam!Girls. This is a whole whooping TWENTY-ONE PAGES in length. I've been writing this on and off for the past few months. Tonight I spent a little over six hours just finishing it up and writing it. But I decided since my rewrite is exactly on this episode, to just finish it up and post it tonight. Why it's so long is that I normally post an episode rewrite into four different parts. This is all smacked into one. Grab something to drink and don't prepare to read this before bed, because you're gonna be here for awhile. I really hope you guys enjoy. I had a lot of fun writing this, as there's almost no episode rewrites dedicated to Sam. (Far as I know. People have been vocal about wanting to see some. So...) I decided to give him a bit of love. And if you guys like this, maybe I'll do a few more with other episodes!

And is this rewrite going to be cheesy AF at times? Probably. But this is purely for entertainment. Enjoy! ^_^

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You quietly sat at the motel desk with your laptop propped open to a few internet browsers displaying the research you should be doing like you had promised, and not staring at your cell phone. Which was still burning hot after being used just a minute ago. You stared at your laptop and tried to get yourself on focusing again to the more important task at hand. But you knew it'd be impossible to think about at a time like this. Your gaze slowly drifted away from the website about a possible ghost you were hunting and to your damn phone, wondering for a split second if Sam might have called you in the past thirty seconds. But you knew it was impossible you would have missed it.

The volume on your phone was up all the way, you even put it on full vibration for extra caution. Sam had been missing for the past three hours, and despite knowing the giant hunter could take care of himself, your anxious mind wandered to the worst case scenario. Dean tried to reassure you that his brother probably got distracted by something at the library right as he was leaving, that's why he hadn't answered your dozen text messages or five voicemail. Maybe it was a bit of an overkill, but you were dealing with the end of days. You couldn't be too careful.

Dean was growing a bit worried himself when he headed out about an hour ago to check around town to see if he could find his brother somewhere. But even he wasn't answering his damn phone to give up a much needed update. Maybe Dean was onto something, Sam could have found something when he ended the call and found himself suckered into reading. You leaned back in the rickety old chair and pondered on the possible situation, but you found yourself slowly denying that it could be true. You'd spent every single day with the man and his brother for the past year and a half, he was smarter and more cautious than this. When he called about coming back from somewhere, he meant it. Something was wrong, you knew it.

Meeting the Winchester boys was...an accidental mishap that lead you down the rabbit hole of what they were calling the apocalypse, despite your best efforts of trying not getting here. You've been hunting now for five years, since you graduated high school and packed up what little belongings you had. Like most hunters, you were dragged into this lifestyle after someone you loved had been killed at the hands of a monster. For the Winchesters it had been their mother, which spiraled their father into a lifelong obsession he handed down to his children. You weren't so lucky to just have one person in your life die. For you, it was your entire family at the hands of a demon you still hadn't had the chance of tracking down. While you had met a few hunters of your own over the past several years by chance of taking the same hunt, how you met the Winchesters and their blue-eyed angel friend was a whole other story.

You had been working on a case in a small town that looked to be like it was a demon possession, jumping from person to person, leaving a body count caught your attention. While you had been happy to work on your own, the rare times when you had met up with another hunter, both of you worked together to get the job done. But it seemed this time you hadn't stolen a case from just any old hunter, you had two legends of the hunting world at your motel doorstep. You had heard rumors of the the two men over the years and was told about stories when you had stopped at a little bar known among hunters as the Roadhouse, a place which they had been frequent in before it burned down.

One thing lead to another, you learned the real reason why the Winchester brothers weren't letting you take care of some low-level demon you almost had a chance to exorcise again. You attempted once after tricking it into a devil's trap and saving a woman from being killed. While you had gotten her to safety, things had turned south when you realized the demon wasn't alone. But you had managed to get away with only a few marks you had been cleaning back in your motel room before the Winchesters were knocking on your door. It seemed they wanted you gone, not because they wanted to steal your hunt, but because this wasn't some run of the mill demon. You had met the big boss, the first demon ever created, Lilith. She had been the reason why people were dropping like flies, and it wasn't bedside she was bored. It was for a ritual to break what they were calling a seal.

After trying to explain the situation best they could, and meeting Castiel, a once very judgement angel, you learned you had stepped into the disaster of the sixty six seals. Each one that broke would lead closer to Lucifer being free, and this little thing called an apocalypse would become a reality. You had managed to stop the one seal, but you hadn't been efficient from letting the others break. Since Lilith had put her pale white eyes on you, it would only be a matter of time before she would try to seek revenge. So, you and the boys agreed that it might be better if you tagged along until this entire thing blew over. And much as you tried, you couldn't stop it, leading to this exact moment.

“What the hell is this?!”

Your head snapped up from the cell phone you were tempted to grab again when you heard the shrilling sounds of a female voice coming from just a few doors down grabbed your attention. You pushed yourself to your feet and headed for the window, putting a finger between the blinds, cautiously peering out to see what the commotion was about. Three doors down in the motel room from yours stood the maid you had suspected was starting her graveyard shift by heading for the boys' room first. You furrowed your brow when you noticed she was scurrying away fast as she could with her cart. You nervously swallowed, wondering what could have been so frightening that made her run off like that as you walked to the door. Swinging it open, you scanned the parking lot, only to see the Impala was still gone. If someone was in the room, that meant only one thing.

Without thinking about grabbing a pair of shoes on this winter night, you tracked across the cold concrete and ignored the shivers ran down your spine. You counted down the numbers until you spotted 102. Pulling out your arm from the crook of your armpit that was keeping your fingers warm, you were taken by surprise when the door showed to be unlocked, but you stopped yourself from pushing it open. Every worse case scenario rushed through your mind while you stood outside in the freezing cold weather and began wondering what caused the maid to be so frightened like she had become. Maybe Sam was severely injured to the point of gruesome wounds. What if a few demons jumped him on his way back? Or maybe it was worse. You inhaled a deep breath and prepared yourself for the worst when you pushed open the door, stepping inside the room without announcement. But you stumbled upon a sight you weren't expecting to witness in a million years.

You opened your mouth to speak the man's name in a worried tone when you caught sight of him with his back turned to yours. But when you realized what he was doing, you stopped dead in your tracks in slight confusion. Sam was standing in front of the full length mirror without his flannel shirt he was wearing earlier today. He was left in his undershirt he'd always paired with. At first you thought he was inspecting himself for any possible wounds from an attack that might have happened. It could have explained his absence over the past few hours. Yet, you soon discovered that wasn't it.

You raised your brow ever so slightly when you noticed the fabric around his upper arm was stretched out, showing off the muscle he’d gained from years of a healthy regime and hunting. Sam always made you feel a bit inferior when you stood next to him. He towered over you with his six foot four frame, not to mention the muscles that barely could be contained in his flannel shirts he wore religiously. He looked like the kind of guy who could take down just about anyone, and he could. But he was more of the gentle giant. And far from showing any signs of vanity about his own body.

"Sam," You managed to find your voice, forcing this moment of privacy to be broken when you caught yourself staring like an idiot. Stepping into the motel and slamming the door shut, it was enough for the man to be taken out from his own personal thoughts. You watched as he jumped out of his own skin, startled by the interruption he wasn't expecting. You gave him a confused look, wondering what had gotten into him. “What the hell? Dean and I have been trying to call you for hours.”

Sam's response was to stare at you with almost a bewilderment look, as if he was wondering why you were scolding him. The younger Winchester should have been used to your over the top worrisome behavior. You and the boys had gotten close over the past year since you started hunting with them. Dean had turned into the big brother, Sam was like your best friend you had back home. Both of you shared the same sense of interest in research, and humor. He could make you laugh when you needed it the most. Not to mention Sam had the type of personality where he could make you spill just about anything he wanted to know about you. He knew all of your deep dark secrets, as you known all of is. After all, you seen him withdraw from his demon blood addiction.

But despite seeming him make so many wrong decisions over the past year and regretting every single one, it didn't stop you from longing for something more from the younger Winchester at times. What wasn't to like about Sam? He was handsome and had brains that could outwit just about anyone. Not to mention he was so damn tall. But you brushed off the feelings as loneliness all hunters faced. Sam was your hunting buddy, just like his big brother, Dean. And he should have been prepared for the wrath of your worried behavior you were lashing out at him tonight.

Before Sam could respond with a logical excuse, your gaze lingered over to the motel door when it swung wide open. You let out a sigh of relief when you saw that it was Dean, who looked pissed off as you had been. Sam, however, had a second of massive confusion to what was going on, and who all of you people were. “What the hell, man? Y/N and I’ve been trying to—”

“We’ve already been through this. You can cut the speech.” You said, letting the older Winchester save his breath for a scolding you already gave a few moments ago. A slight shiver passed through your body from the small breeze that came from the still opened door. “Mind closing the door? It's freezing enough in here.”

“Put some pants on, sweetheart.” Dean remarked. You furrowed your brow from his words, but when you glanced down at your ensemble, you quickly realized what was making him smirk like he'd just heard a funny joke. It was late enough at night for you retire with the thought of not having to go out in public. You glanced down to see you were wearing your favorite ensemble of an oversize shirt you'd stolen from Sam what felt like forever ago and some pajama shorts you wore to bed. You scoffed and crossed your arms over your chest. when Dean got a look on his face. He was like a big brother to you, and he would take just about every opportunity he could to harass you. It was a relationship you had grown to love from him over the past year. But the mood only lasted for a split second before he looked over at his little brother, curious for the reason of his brother's absence over the past few hours. "Where you been, man?"

“I picked up some food. Bacon burger turbo, large chili-cheese fry, right?” Sam tried to make up the situation by walking over to the motel bed, grabbing a fast food bag from the same greasy joint you had eaten at earlier this afternoon. You had grown used to the unhealthy diet of being a hunter, it was one of the perks of living on the road, but your stomach felt queasy at the thought of eating the same stuff twice in the same day. Dean, however, shrugged off his leather jacket and tossed it to the bed, all before grabbing the peace offering from his little brother without question. "Sorry, man. Really. I-I just—lost track of time. I didn't mean to freak you guys out."

"Thanks." Dean said, seeming a bit skeptical of why his brother was acting a bit out of character. You crossed your arms tighter around your body and looked at Sam, watching as he grabbed his button up from the bed to put it back on. "Don't know why it took you two hours, but thanks."

"Oh, you're gonna want to eat that on the road." Sam said as he pointed at the white paper bag Dean was about to open up to grab a fry. He then gestured a finger to the assortment of weapons that had been out for a cleaning, the usual drill, but it seemed the younger Winchester forgotten the discreteness of what it meant to keeping outsiders out without causing trouble. "The maid came in, saw that, and now they're all kind of freaking out."

“Why’d you let the maid in?” You asked him, a hint of disbelief could be heard in your tone from how accidentally careless he was acting tonight.

“It just happened.” Sam answered you not even a second later.

You furrowed your brow slightly as Dean looked at his brother with a bit of suspicion. You decided to let this little accident pass without much question. These past few months of traveling with the boys had been a stressful one, unraveling a situation that you had never thought would come to be. Stresses had made everyone do a bit of stupid things, that’s what you made yourself believe of why Sam wasn’t acting quite like himself.

“Whatever.” Dean said. “I got to hit the head and then we’ll take off.”

You pointed your thumb over the door, "Give me five minutes. I'm gonna go change."

“Alright.” Sam agreed. “I’ll be outside.”

Sam watched as his brother headed for the bathroom and shut the door behind him. You took a few steps forward to the motel door, but you found yourself stopping in your tracks for a moment as you looked over your shoulder to stare at the younger Winchester. He looked exactly like how he did when he left, and while nothing seemed physically different about him...you just felt like something was off. It seemed Sam had found out you were staring at him, he gave you a small smile and a wave, you returned the smile before making yourself walk back to your own motel room, thinking that maybe you were a being a little bit too paranoid for your own good.

Five minutes later you emerged from the motel room with a new set of clothes and your duffel bag packed up. You walked down the familiar path that lead to where the Impala was parked without much thought. As you stepped down from the sidewalk, you spotted the Impala was parked just across the way, next to a dumpster. You didn't think much of it as you began walking over, presuming that Sam was sitting in his usual spot in the passenger seat, but it seemed he was a little busy. You stopped in your tracks for a moment to see that he was cautiously getting something from the car before walking towards the dumpster and suspiciously tossing the content in. He didn't waste a second of brushing his hands clean from the evidence and heading back to the car, acting as if everything was fine.

You summed up the situation to thinking that he could have been throwing away some trash before his brother could find it. You headed over to the Impala when you heard Dean following behind by the sound of his shoes and the jingle of his keys. You opened up the backseat door and threw your bag inside before slipping yourself into the seat. Everything seemed normal again as all of you had taken your regular position, but it seemed that Sam was seeming a bit tired of sitting in the passenger side from the question he asked out of the blue.

"Hey, can I drive?" Sam curiously asked. Dean was a bit thrown off from the question that he never heard his brother ask. Sam was the only one out of the three of you that was allowed to drive the Impala. And mostly he only did that on occasions when there was long drives. All of you were just heading for another motel, but Dean decided to take over the wheel on this one. You sat in the middle of the backseat with Sam’s gigantic frame in your left view as Dean was to your right. Sam turned on the car, which triggered Baby’s usual purs from the engine that you heard every single time. To the younger Winchester, he acted like it was the best thing ever. “Oh, this is so sweet!”

Sam decided to have a little bit of fun by pressing on the gas pedal a few times while the car was still in parked. You slowly looked over at Dean, who wasn't growing confused at this situation, he was more annoyed at the lack of progress. "You want to get the lead out, Andretti? Come on." Dean complained, motioning for this situation to wrap up. Sam reached out to change gears, seeming to forget how to drive, too. Dean warned the man about the mistake he was going to make, but Sam pressed his foot lightly on the gas. "Reverse. Reverse!"

Sam didn't listen in time. You heard the tires squeal against the blacktop before the Impala was accelerating backwards, making you be the victim as you roughly hit the seat when the car backed into the dumpster. Luckily the Winchester managed to break before there was any damage to the Impala. You winced in slight pain as your hand reached around to touch your aching neck, Dean was nothing more than pissed at what had unfolded. But in a calm voice, he turned his head to look at his little brother.

“It’s in reverse.” Dean stated between clenched teeth.

Sam tried to apologize for what happened, but Dean wasn't having it. Both of them switched spots, putting them back to where they had started. Normally you would have laughed at any sort of accidental mishap Sam Winchester, the famous hunter known for his intelligence and quick reflexes, but you found the same pit in your stomach. You kept your feelings to yourself, thinking that it was, yet again, the paranoia from the bigger situation that was making you worried.

+ + +

The next morning you and the boys checked into another motel just across town, but it was still little progress in the case. The boys had taken a simple salt and burn after hearing an old friend of their dad was in trouble with some nasty spirit. You had spent most of last night trying to find any sort of lead that could help solve this case that should have been one of the easier ones you've worked on this year. It was just early in the morning when you headed down the busy street with the boys to start on the busy day you had ahead for you.

“So, uh, where we going, anyway?” You looked over at the younger Winchester that was standing on your right. A small smile spreading across your lips from the question he asked. You told him you were going to work, which then required you to specifically mention the case. He nodded his head as a small smile spread across his lips, causing his dimples to pop out from each of his cheeks. “Oh, right. Yeah—the case. Of course. Where, uh, do you want to start?”

"Well, since you or Y/N couldn't find where Maggie Briggs was buried, now we have to do an all-day tombstone roll to see if we can dig her up." Dean said. He headed for the driver’s side of the impala as you followed behind to get into the backseat.

“Wait. Maggie Briggs? You mean like—like, the witch Maggie Briggs?” Sam asked. You looked at him with a funny expression as you nodded your head. But it seemed he knew exactly what he was talking about from how he started rambling on next. “Yeah, she’s in the basement. Isaiah Pickett’s house. Okay. there’s this legend that he hung her, but he didn’t. The real truth is that he was carrying his illegitimate child, and he killed her and then buried her in the basement.”

“Her ‘murdered chylde.’ That would explain the scratches.” You noted, remembering the terrible marks on the little girl’s stomach. Maggie wasn’t doing it at a vengeance, maybe she was trying to tell you something. “Wait, how do you know all of this?”

“Oh, I’ve done all kinds of research on it.” Sam said, shrugging off your question. You raised your brow slightly, wondering how he managed to squeeze in the time. All of you had been busy over the past few hours. But it seemed he hadn’t left the library empty handed before coming back. “I mean, you know...last night.”

You nodded your head at his excuse, thinking he must have kept this information to himself last night after the antics from last night after finding some lord in one of the local books at the library. You opened the backseat door and slipped yourself inside, the boys following behind. Dean turned on the Impala and reached out to turn on the radio as per usual, leading to a classic rock song to come on. While you and the oldest Winchester had bonded over the love of rock, Sam wasn't a personal fan of it like the both of you were. He had grown used to it over the decades of listening to the same rock tapes that were handed down from his father. But it seemed he had grown for a fondness for it today when he turned up the volume to start jamming out to it. You cocked up a brow when he caught your reflection in the side mirror. When he looked over his shoulder, he gave you another smile, the kind in which that seemed to have made his entire face light up. It'd been awhile since he had seen so positive, maybe the Sam you were seeing today was a newer version that you just needed to stop questioning.

+ + +

About twenty minutes later, you arrived at the Pickett residence that had been abandoned long ago, thanks to Sam's knowledge on the place. He told you all sorts of information on the guy, which you listened, like always. Sam was like a sponge when it came to research, he soaked up just about everything, and he loved telling you about it. "So, get this..." was one of his most used catch phrases you had grown to recognize him by, as Dean's infamous "son of a bitch" when he got angry. You might have only been traveling for a little over a year with the boys, but after spending every waking moment with them, you grew to know a lot about them and develop special relationships with them. You and Dean were more like brother and sister. You bonded over the simplest of things, like your similar taste in music and your obsession with his car, and in return he teased you and treated you as family. Sam was a bit different with you.

You found the relationship with Sam a bit different from his older brother, as the both of them were far polar opposite in their personalities. But that wasn't the case. When you first met Sam, he had a lot of...bad things going on for him. He found himself trusting a demon named Ruby and following her down a dark path of drinking demon blood to heighten his psychic abilities. The Winchesters had a past that was horrifying and filled with pain. But you never looked at Sam differently, not even when he freed the Devil himself from Hell. Because that wasn't the Sam you had grown to know over the past year and a half.

Despite all of that, you had a friendship that was developed from hours of research in dimly lit libraries and bars when Dean was off trying to find himself a lover for the night. When Ruby wasn't around trying to mess with his head, you had seen the real Sam Winchester. He was smart as hell, yet he was empathetic enough to make just about anyone spill their dirty secrets without feeling ashamed for what they done. He was a giant with a set of puppy dog eyes that you wanted to stare into all day. There was something about Sam that drove you crazy. He wasn't any guy you had met before, but up weren't exactly a skilled romantic. The only real relationship you had was when you were in high school, and only that lasted a few weeks before he dumped you for another girl. Yet it didn't stop you from growing a fondness for the man, there was something about him that made you feel good and more like your old self before you started hunting. But the man you had grown to fall for seemed to have been absent since last night. He’d been acting a bit strange.

You busied yourself with heading for the trunk when Dean tossed you the keys to fetch the supplies he already had packed after he wanted to take a quick sweep of the place to make sure it was really abandoned. You shoved the key inside the lock and opened up the trunk, you reached inside to pull out the duffel bag that on most days you could handle. As you yanked out the bag, you didn't realize how heavy it was, causing you to nearly stumble to the ground when gravity decided to play a part again. You were about to get a face full of dirt, but before you could, you felt someone reach out and grab the bag and then took the other to wrap an arm around your waist. Sam was quick enough to catch you before you could fall, but it took you a moment to realize how close you were as the result.

You didn't realize Sam was at least a few inches from you, giving a rare chance to stare into his eyes, which always were a bit interesting to you. On some days that seemed green, but other occasions, in the right light, they looked blue. The both of you spent a few moments in this position as a bashful smile began to spread across your lips at the embarrassing situation you had landed yourself in. Sam let out a nervous chuckle and started to give you a smile, but the moment didn't last very long, as it was ruined by Dean's obnoxious attempt of clearing his throat. You quickly stood back up straight as Sam took ahold of the bag. Dean rolled his eyes, turning his back on you as he let out a quiet chuckle, finding the situation a little too amusing for his own good.

All of you headed into the house and found the staircase to the basement, as Dean traveled first and you trailed after, leaving Sam to be the last in line. You cautiously made your way down the steps with one hand wrapped around the flashlight and the other carrying the shotgun loaded with nothing more than rock salt. Nothing seemed to have popped out as you took the final step down to the basement floor, you continued on your travels, wondering where Isaiah Pickett buried his ex lover’s body. But you found your search going quiet when you looked over your shoulder to see that Sam was having a bit of fun on the job. You furrowed your brow slightly when he was bent over at the waist with the shotgun, pretending to aim at invisible ghosts.

“Boo-yah!” He whispered to himself with a smirk. “Master chief in the house, bizatches!”

“Feeling all right, Master chief?” You teased the younger Winchester, finding his behavior a little bit strange. But nevertheless you gave him a smile, trying to keep up with the lighthearted attitude he seemed to have been trying out. Sam nodded his head as his cheeks began to grow a bit rosy from the flashlight you had on him. You turned forward and continued on walking through the basement, until you stumbled upon a spot on the floor that wasn’t dirt like everything else. “Well, I’ll be damned. Willow moss.”

“Yeah, right.” Sam agreed with you. You looked over your shoulder again to see that he was standing across the way from you and Dean, but he could see the shallow grave and its lightly green moss from where he was standing. “It’s, uh, supposed to grow over witches’ graves, right?”

Dean found himself looking at his brother a little funny, wondering why the man seemed a little unsure of the piece of information that he should have clearly known. The oldest Winchester brushed off the coincidence as nothing. He dropped the duffel bag to the ground and got to work himself on digging up the grave, knowing it was the first part of wrapping up this hunt. While Sam remained as backup, you watched as Dean got to work, your hands were full of the salt and lighter fluid, itching to get this hunt wrapped up for good. It took only about fifteen minutes before you could see bones peeking through the shallow grave were about to peek through. While the process unfolded, you had your back turned on Sam, not seeming to notice what sort of fatal consequences might lead to, as the man you had thought was Sam...wasn’t really him.

You leaned your back against the wall, giving Sam a perfect aim of Dean, who had no idea what was about to come. The younger Winchester took the shotgun and aimed it at the man, little did he realize there wasn’t actual bullets in the chamber, just salt rounds. “Hey, man,” Sam whispered to what he had grown to realize what his brother. But he spoke too softly for either one of you to hear him. “I’m really sorry about this.”

Before the man could pull the trigger, it seemed that he was about to meet Maggie Briggs, who wasn't too happy about what you were doing to her grave. Your head whipped over your shoulder when you heard a crashing sound coming from behind. Sam had been taken by surprise when the spirit had thrown him across the room and crashing into a shelf that didn't look too comfortable. You called out the man's name in a panicked tone, causing Dean to quickly stop what he was doing. He headed over his brother to help, as you followed behind to see if he was all right. Dean pulled the man to his feet and asked if he was all right.

“Let’s get the hell out of here!” Sam shouted with a panicked tone.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Dean stopped his little brother from making an escape, silently wondering why he was acting like a coward all of a sudden. “We still got to burn the body, you idiot.”

Dean gave his little brother a look, wondering why he had been acting so strange since last night. He began walking forward to the grave, it still had to be dug up a bit more before anybody could salt the bones. You followed behind the older Winchester to wrap up this a little faster. But you only got a few steps ahead before you found yourself meeting the same compromise Sam had just been in a few moments ago. You found your back being roughly thrown against the wall, knocking the air out of your lungs, as you had accidentally hit your head roughly against the wall, making your vision turn a bit blurry. Faintly, you heard Dean call out your name in a panicked tone, but before he could come to your rescue, the man had been thrown across the room, leaving Sam to somehow find the courage to save the day.

You closed your eyes for a moment when your head felt the headache begin to form, little realizing the attention that was soon to be focused on you. You slowly parted an eye open when you felt like someone was staring at you. You realized a second later that it was Maggie herself, and she wasn't exactly happy at the early retirement you were putting her into. Without a weapon to protect yourself with, you shield yourself to keep the pain to a minimum. You squeezed your eyes shut, expecting to feel her wrath be scratching a message into your skin or throwing you against the room, but there was nothing. You dropped your arms to your lap as you opened your eyes to see that Sam was standing over the grave with a bottle of lighter fluid in his hands and a toothy grin spread across his lips.

“That was sweet!”

+ + +

There was no better way to celebrate a job well done than a few rounds of beer. You weren't much of a drinker, you preferred to sip on something more non-alcoholic, but you wouldn't pass up the chance to do a few shots with the boys to at least congratulate yourself. Dean pressured you into at least doing one before he ordered around round and soon disappeared himself, saying something about seeing a pretty face at the bar, and needing to scratch an itch. You blocked out what he was saying and pushed him away, letting him have a chance to enjoy himself, leaving you alone with Sam. Which was something that he had done frequently when the restaurant he chose wasn't some diner or greasy fast food joint. He needed his alone time, as you never complained about being alone with Sam. You always enjoyed his company, no matter what the two of you were doing.

You sipped on your drink and watched the man get to work, a smile crept at the end of your lips, wondering to yourself of how the man always managed to get what he wanted. The waitress that had been helping you since you got here brought over the round of shots that Dean ordered. "Oh, would it be too much to ask if I ask for a cheeseburger? Everything on it, extra onions." You asked the waitress as you gave her a smile.

“Absolutely, sweetheart.” She said as she cleared out the empty shot glasses.

“Ooh, that—that sounds good. Ditto.” Sam joined in on getting himself an early dinner. “But make mine a bacon cheeseburger. And hell, why not put a fried egg on top?”

The waitress nodded her head and walked back to the kitchen to put your orders in. You slowly glanced over at the man sitting across from you, his behavior over the past day was starting to grow more stranger, and this was just the final straw for you. "Okay, who are you and what have you done with Sam?" You questioned him with a serious tone. You looked at him straight in the eye, making him look at you with a slightly panicked look, as if you had caught him red handed. You raised a brow slightly as he shifted around in his seat. "Bacon cheeseburgers now? That's not like you, Sammy."

"I don't know. I eat them, don't I? Anyways, we are celebrating." Sam said, managing to divert the conversation as he lifted up his shot glass.

“Yeah, I guess.” You agreed with him. You grabbed your own glass and lifted it up, you gave him a small smile. “Another one bites the dust. Nice work today, like always,”

“You too. I had a, uh, really awesome day, Y/N. Seriously." Sam said. You reached out to lightly clink your glasses together before you downed your shot with ease. Sam, however, struggled a bit to make himself shallow it before letting out a rough cough from the burning. "Whoo! Sweet."

“A really awesome day?” You found yourself lingering on what the younger man had said. Sam wondered what the fuss was all about when he managed to take another sip of his beer to wash away the taste of the shot. "It was a random, d-list ghost hunt. That's...that's awesome to you?"

“I can’t be in a good mood?” Sam questioned you back.

"Yeah, I guess. It's..." You trailed off, trying to reason with his attitude that was all foreign to you. But you looked up from your drink, stopping yourself from taking another sip. "No, actually. In all of the time that I've known you, it's really not your style, Sam."

"Well, then, it's a new me. I mean, come on. Why shouldn't I be happy? I've got a gun, I'm getting drunk, and I look like this." Sam gestured to his face, making you let out a quiet chuckle from his attitude. You bit your bottom lip as he let out a quiet sigh, finding himself getting lost in a small rant. "I don't know. You ever feel like your whole future is being decided for you. No matter how much you fight it, you can't stop the plan. The stupid, stupid plan."

"Not particularly." You said, knowing exactly what he was talking about without him needing to say it directly. “But I like to pretend I'm a pretty understanding person."

"So, I don't know. I guess it's, uh, it's just nice to do a little ass-kicking for a change, that's all. I've got a brother that's totally cool. And a best friend who's probably one of the prettiest and coolest chick I've ever met.” Sam found himself lost in his rambles, and without a warning, he let something slip out that you weren't expecting to hear in about a million years. Your eyebrows shot up in curiosity as the man suddenly began to turn the darkest shade of red you've ever seen. You tried covering your mouth to keep the small chuckles from his behavior to a minimum, but the grin that was peeking out from the cracks of your fingers was unavoidable. "Uh, you know what? I—I'm drunk. Sorry. Just—Just forget it. I'm making a complete ass out of myself, aren't I?"

You swallowed down a laugh at what you heard, it was something that you would have never expected to hear from the younger Winchester, as he looked a little mortified. It was something that was starting to make you blush a little bit, but you brushed off the confession as a tipsy compliment. "It's, uh...I'll drink to that." You reached out to hit your shot glasses against his, enjoying the very rare moment together with him. As you swallowed down the shot with ease, you couldn't help yourself at how much the alcohol burned his throat. “Hey, is it me, or are we actually drinking together?”

“We don't do it that often, huh?” Sam asked, a small smile spreading across hips lips.

You shook your head as you reached for the straw to your drink, you stirred the ice around, making it quietly hit against the glass cup. “Not really. Most of the time when we’re alone it's because Dean abandoned us with the research. Not a lot of time for...just hanging out.” You said, shrugging your shoulders. “Guess it's just perks of the job.”

“Well, we should do this more often.” Sam said. He seemed more lighthearted today. Maybe it was from the three shots he took and a beer he drank, but you were starting to find this new Sam very interesting, to say the least. “You're a pretty cool girl, Y/N.”

“Sam Winchester thinks I’m pretty and cool? Well,” You snickered at your attempt of teasing him as you reached for your drink to take another sip to cover the laugh you were about to let loose. “You really are drunk.”

The waitress disrupted the moment between you and Sam when she arrived back with your food, the smell alone made your mouth water. You thanked her before she headed off to attend the rest of her customers, and as you reached out to grab one of your boiling hot fries, it was Sam that stopped you when he spoke up. “No, but I mean it, Y/N. You really are a good person.” Sam voice was trying to be serious, yet it was soft enough, as if he was trying to tell you something more. You gave him a smile of appreciation, finding his words rather touching. He rarely spoke to you like this, wanting to keep things between you professional. But it made something spark in you to hear that he thought of you as a good friend. Sam reached down to take a bite of his burger, which soon turned into a man who had never eaten one before in his life. “Mmm! The bread alone!”

You shook your head as you let out a small laugh from his reaction, it seemed that he wanted to steer away from salads for a while for something his brother would have picked. It's not like he needed to try and work so hard. The both of you talked while you slowly ate your meal, mostly he kept the conversation on normal topics as Sam let you do most of the talking. He was a good listener, you told a few stories about hunting on your own before joining the boys and even about when you were still in school. Things between you haven't been this personal before, as over the past year, there hasn't been much time to have a little heart to heart. Maybe it was the inner girl that was making you blush ever so slightly at this moment.

Sam had met a lot of different hunters through his life of hunting, and you were sure he’d met a lot of pretty girls during his time, some which might still haunt him to this day. He told you briefly about a girl named Jess when he was in college, both of them had been going steady until she was killed in a fire that was caused by Azazel, the yellow eyed demon who ruined the boys life. And then he had said there was another woman named Madison that he briefly started to take a personal liking for. But whenever you tried walking about it with him when it was brought up, Sam gotten all defensive, immediately wanting to change the subject. You didn’t press on any further, and from the conversation that Dean casually brought up at lunch yesterday, Sam wasn’t looking for anything serious. He might be young, but he was a drifter, with no intentions of settling down.

The both of you continued on eating in mostly light talk, focusing mostly on the atmosphere that seemed different than normal. You kept your gaze mostly on your plate, but whenever you glanced up to take a drink from your beer, you noticed that he was staring at you when he thought you weren’t paying attention. And when your eyes happened to wander over to him, he would bashfully turn his head away, as if he was trying not to get caught. You looked at him from the corner of your eye and raised a brow, curiously wondering what he was up to. Sam opened his mouth to try and say something, and while it came out as “Uh...I, um—So…” He attempts soon died off when he decided the effort was worth it. You gave him another chance, thinking it might have been something important, but he shrugged it off as nothing.

“We’re good friends, right?” Sam asked you out of the blue.

“I would hope so. I mean, I spend almost every waking moment with you and your brother.” You said, a small chuckle escaping you as you took another sip of your beer. You slowly let your laugh die off as Sam kept staring at you with a serious expression, you licked your lips. “Why?”

“And what about Dean? Are you two dating?” You found yourself choking out your beer when you made the mistake of taking another sip. Sam’s question took you by surprise, causing you to let out a laugh if you weren’t in the middle of washing down your dinner. Dean might have given a few the idea that you might have been a couple from how many things you had in common, along with the constant teasing he brought on. But he was like your older brother. You only saw him as another hunter. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“What possessed you to ask that?” You wondered as you managed to clean up any sort of liquid that escaped your mouth.

“Uh, I was just wondering.” Sam said, shrugging off your concern. You balled up the damp napkins and glanced up to see him smirking to himself, as if he'd gotten the exact answer that he was hoping for. He quickly snapped out of thoughts and looked over at you. Pointing a finger over his shoulder, he suddenly needed to leave. "I'll be right back. I'm gonna go release the hostages."

“TMI, Sammy.” You muttered at him. You gave him a playful wink as he gave you a weak smile, he made a mental note to himself not to say that again if he wanted to keep this going. You watched as he headed for the bathrooms that were right behind you in the bar, disappearing into the crowd that was slowly starting to grow bigger as the dinner rush started to arrive. You kept yourself busy by reaching for your beer as you reached for your phone. You patted around in your pocket where you always kept it, but you noticed that it was gone, you thought you might have left it back at the motel. As you reached out to eat one of your lukewarm fries, you noticed a hand was being greedy at stealing what few remained. “Get your own fries, Winchester.”

You slapped Dean's hand away, making flinch back at what you'd done, not exactly you to be so territorial of your food. You smiled in victory as you popped another fry into your mouth. “So, how's your little date with Sam going?"

You rolled your eyes at Dean’s cheap attempt at of trying to tease you, which had turned into an ongoing theme over the past few months. One night you gotten drunk with Dean at a bar, trying to be his wing woman so he could quit whining about the dry spell he was having. The town you were staying in didn't have what he was looking for, so it ended with the both of you enjoying each other’s company and drinking until the room started spinning. While you woke up the next morning with the absolute worst headache, Dean felt completely fine, he even told you about what you had rambled on about while you were under the influence. He mentioned something about how you thought his little brother was smart, handsome and a total catch. He’d been harassing you about it until this very day.

“Just peachy. He confessed his love to me and we’re going to get hitched in Vegas. Wanna come?” You asked him as your voice dropped with sarcasm. He let out a slight chuckle as he leaned against the table to and sipped his beer. You could see the shake of the head and he rolled his eyes, obviously not amused with your answer as you had been. “What are you getting at Dean? Sam’s my hunting partner. I—”

“Oh my God. You two are so much alike it's creepy sometimes. He said the exact same thing.” Dean muttered. You furrowed your brow and looked at him with a slightly confused look. The Winchester quickly eyed the bar, taking notice his brother was spending a rather unusual amount of time in the bathroom, giving him the perfect opportunity to play matchmaker. “Look, I’m not dumb. I may have a terrible track record with women, but I know puppy love when I see it. And Sam’s just oozing with it when he's around you.”

“No, he's not.” You brushed off what Dean had said to flick a piece of hair out of your face and looked around the room, trying to find anything just smallest enough to start a conversation.

“Yeah, he does. You're just too stuck in your head to see it. I mean, you know how many times he told me how much he enjoys hunting with you? Or how smart you are? He tripped over himself trying to not make an ass out of himself when he first met you. Granted, he really wasn't himself back then. Still...he told me himself of how much he likes you. I mean, really likes you. The guy hasn't been like this about a girl since…” Dean told you straight of how his little brother viewed you. When you heard him trail off, you could see the bit of happiness spark in his eyes, hopeful something good would come of this from what he was about to say. “Well, Jess.”

The name took you by surprise, as you knew how much Jess had meant to Sam. She was someone he had met during his few years at Stanford, the woman he was going to marry after tagging along on a hunting trip when their father went missing. He told you a little bit about her, and while it had been a bit painful to remember, he was at peace for what happened. But Sam was head over heels in love with the woman. The woman he wanted to spend a normal life with. You were a hunter, someone that was compatible with if this day continued on turning out to be Twilight Zone episode.

“I’m sure he said those things to be nice—”

“Sweetheart, my brother is a lot of things. But one thing I know about him is that he becomes a truthful son of a bitch when I get him drunk. He told me while you were doing that solo hunt down in Pennsylvania. He said how worried he was about you. Then...it all came out. You should have seen it. It was cute to see him admit that he's crazy about you, Y/N. Dean said. You inhaled a deep breath from what you were hearing as a small smile spread across your lips. “The only reason why he hasn't made a move is because of this whole apocalypse. What might happen if somebody gets wind that Sam likes a girl. He's scared of you getting hurt. But I saw screw that. Life's short. Get what you want.”

Dean’s words were for more the just you and his little brother, it was advice that he could have used a month and a half ago. Jo was her name, while the both of the hunters had flirted back and forth, things took a tragic turn when her life ended. But Dean was right. Hunting wasn't a career you did for a few decades before you retired. One day you're hunting, the next you're dead. If Dean was right about this, which, why would he lie to you? He had grown to be like your surrogate big brother. The man wanted you and his little brother to just be happy.

“Okay.” You admitted, knowing there was no point in denying the feelings you had for the man. You only lived once, and Dean was right, you had to get what you wanted. “I’ll ask him out first. We’ll take it from there.”

“Atta girl.” Dean gave you a wink as he turned around to nudge your knee with his own.

So you waited for Sam to get back from the bathroom. And waited. And waited. Fifteen minutes or so passed when you looked over at the clock to see what was taking the man so long. Your nerves were beginning to get the best of you. What if he said no? God, what if he said…”I like you, Just not like that.” Which you would respect. You let out a quiet sigh, knowing your mind was getting the best of you. If it was meant to be, it’ll happen.

Dean had headed back to the bar a few minutes ago to get a refill, thinking he was going to be here a bit longer after some pretty brunette came walking in here by herself. You looked over your shoulder to see where Sam could have been, maybe he was at the bar himself trying to get another round, but he wasn't there. You furrowed your brow and looked straight ahead, from where you were sitting you had a perfect view of the exit. Strangely enough, you spotted Sam’s hard to miss large frame heading for the double doors. But he wasn't alone. You could feel your stomach drop when he was being pulled out by a woman that looked to have had a good fifteen years on him. He caught your gaze, and in a surprising move, the man gave you a grin as he pointed his thumbs up, as if you should have encouraged him.

“We’re gonna do it!” He whispered with delight.

You looked at him a bit funny, but you managed to snap yourself out of it, not dwelling on the sheer second of happiness that you once thought could have been. Your mind began wandering, thinking about how strange Sam has been acting over the past day and a half. It wasn't because he didn't reciprocate the same feelings as you when he decided to go off with that woman. It was how bad at driving he suddenly became, the attitude. Hell, the drinking and eating a burger was all out of character for him. And you doubt Sam going off with that woman was a way of making you feel jealous. Suddenly you didn't feel so sad anymore.

+ + +

He didn't return until midnight. Sam, whoever this person was, lurked in the darkness of the motel room, trying to find his way around. He fumbled a bit, but never managed to wake the sleeping body in the bed. The stranger found a loaded pistol just lying on the untouched sheets, a smirk spread across his lips, silently thinking to himself of how easy this was going to be. He never shot off a gun before, but he’d never been six foot four before with a masculine body. Today was all about doing the unexpected. He took a few timid steps forward to the bed, unaware of the chair, and put his finger on the trigger. He sucked in a breath and pushed down on the trigger, preparing himself for the noise that was to come.

But there was nothing. Nothing but a faint clicking sound. Gary furrowed the man’s brow and tried again, thinking it might have gotten jammed. Still, nothing.

Suddenly he felt a grip around the barrel of the gun, and before he could realize what was happening, someone punched him directly in the face, taking him by absolute surprise. He felt one of his legs swing up from behind him, making him panic slightly as he thought he was about to fall backwards, but someone grabbed ahold of him by the collar of his shirt and sent him forward to a much lower level. His eyes adjusted to the darkness to see that he was staring directly at a familiar face, it was you. "You're not Sam." You hissed at him, he could hear the venom dripping in your voice as your eyes narrowed on him suspiciously. "Who the hell are you?"

“Ow!” Gary shouted, affected by the pain that quickly settled in.

You weren't feeling sympathetic from the punch, you were going to do far more worse things to him than you could imagine. Gary could tell from that scary look on your face that his gig was up. But before he could try and explain himself, there was a sharp pain to the back of his head, and his vision went black.

+ + +

“You have thirty-eight messages.”

“This is gonna sound crazy—really crazy—but, um, I think I’m in the wrong body.”

“Y/N, the guy right next to you and Dean is not me!”

“Y/N, check your friggin’ voicemail. Damn it.”

You cradled the motel phone against your ear, listen to just a few of the voicemail that had been left on all of your cell phones, which had magically seemed to disappear from sight. Dean took a few minutes to see if this pubescent voice that was on the other line claiming to be the younger Winchester explain what was going on. Dean stood next to you and watched the body he tied to chair, slowly beginning to come back into consciousness. You looked over at Dean and nodded your head slowly, informing that you had gotten the same kind of messages. Your first guess at what was going on was demonic possession, but Sam's tattoo was intact, and his body didn't react to the holy water you'd splashed on him. And he wasn't a shifter when you pressed a silver knife against his skin. Sam appeared to be himself, but he wasn't...himself. This was some weird, "Freaky Friday" stuff if you had to give your honest opinion.

"All right, pal." Dean started talking when you hung up the phone, not needing anymore evidence to figure out that something dangerous wrong was happening here. He walked forward to the man that appeared to be his brother as he slowly rose from consciousness. "Either you start talking or I start waterboarding."

“Oh, my God. Please, don’t hurt me. Please! I’m sorry!” The stranger wasted no time in pleading for his life, thinking you would have actually done something to hurt him. You would have, but you didn’t want to ruin such fine packaging. “I’m so, so sorry!”

"Okay. Hey," Dean was taken back himself at how easy the kid gave up in defeat. He leaned over and slapped a supportive hand on his shoulder, it only made the stranger jump in fright, thinking he was going to harm him. "Pull it together, champ."

“I don’t want to die.” He muttered as his eyes glazed over. “I don’t want to die.”

“Where’s Sam?” You asked the stranger, not beating around the bush.

“In my—my friend’s basement.” The stranger explained to you. “His parents are out of town.”

“Parents?” You repeated after him, finding the answer was nothing you would have suspected. You slowly looked over at Dean as your brow furrowed even closer together. As if things weren’t getting any weirder, you decided to figure out who this person was that was walking in the younger Winchester’s skin. “How old are you?”

“Seventeen.” He told you.

Your eyebrows shot up from the answer you would have never guessed, "Seventeen? You’re a—”

Before you could finish your sentence, you could feel yourself being thrown across the room, giving you a sensation of weightlessness, but the feeling only lasted when your body roughly hit not a wall, but the mirror of the dresser. Shards of glass pricked at your skin as you landed on the carpeted ground, you could feel it for a moment, your other senses were being bombarded with too many things at once. Your head was pounding as a trickle of blood seeped out from your wound. The sound of someone shouting your name could be heard, all before Dean was thrown into the same predicament. It seemed there was a special guest who wanted to make a terrible first impression.

You winced in pain as you tried to roll over on your back to figure out who the hell managed to get into the motel room without you or Dean realizing it. Whoever it was sure wasn’t here for good intentions. You sucked in a breath and forced your eyes open. From across the room you noticed a teenage girl was standing right next to Sam, but it wasn’t hard to see from the inky black eye color and how she was talking about promises, she a demon. She didn't waste anytime in freeing Sam's body from the ropes and helping up to his feet. You noticed her back was turned to you, without thinking of the consequences, you forced yourself to move to your stomach, so you could army crawl to the duffel bag that just so happened to be lying on the floor.

It seemed the demon was here strictly for business, but this was more than just about some measly demon deal. The kid switched bodies with Sam because he wanted to be all mighty and powerful, in exchange, he would take Sam's body to the Devil himself so he could get exactly what he wanted. It'd be a win, win. But it seemed the kid was having a bit of cold feet as he tried to back out of this. It seemed playing with dark magic had its downfall. You snatched the demon knife out from the bag and pushed yourself to your feet, thinking you might have a chance at taking her by surprise. You didn't want to really hurt the poor girl as your arm swung up just in time for the demon to figure out what you were doing. But you never really had a chance to feel that regret when she grabbed you by the arm and threw you against the ground.

“I was having a very important conversation. Didn’t your parents teach you manners, little girl?” The demon asked you, as if you were going to respond. You found it comical that she viewed you younger, as she was possessing the body of a teenage girl that was at least six years younger than you. But the demon decided to show her strength in choosing a young meat suit when she started kicking your tender stomach, not caring for the little noises you were making. You pretended to endure the pain, little did she realize that you were mumbling the fifty words of latin that would save the day. Yet it was getting harder when she didn’t stop. You stuttered the words, but it seemed the stranger knew a thing or two.

You could feel the pain in your stomach suddenly stop when the demon realized the person she’d been working with turn against her. The man that took over Sam’s body continued on with the exorcism, focusing the demon’s attention over to him, and then getting the wrath that was brought from trying to send the black-eyed bitch to Hell where she belonged. She grabbed Sam by the throat, but you didn’t let her hurt the man. You managed to push yourself to your feet, and working through the pain, you finished the exorcism, before somebody could be left with more than just bruised and cut up bodies.

You smirked at the demon with blood stained lips, "Adios, bitch."

“Uh,” The stranger looked over at you, deciding it’d be the best time to correct your Spanish. “It’s Audi nos.”

+ + +

The man that you had been spending all day and late last night with wasn't in fact Sam Winchester, but a teenage boy named Gary Frankle. He told everything that had happened before his friend had come back around, thankfully, unharmed from the possession. She was curled up on the motel bed with a soft blanket around her. You sat next to her and gave you a reassuring smile. The girl was obviously freaked out from everything that had happened, as she learned a valuable lesson about dabbling with Satanic rituals for something that wasn't much worth it. Being a teenager was far harder than you remembered. At least you knew the consequences of what would happen if you tangled with demons and the Devil himself.

Sam had came back to the motel after somehow getting himself out of the bonds Gary’s friends had tied him up in. It seemed that being a scrawny teenager had its advantages. Now the two sat in the middle of the floor, trying to reverse the damage that had been done. Gary sprinkled a bit of the herbs he needed into the pot, continuing on with the ritual as he changed something in Latin you didn’t quite understand. You reached up a hand to shield your eyes when a bright light suddenly filled up the entire room for a brief moment before fading away.

Sam looked down at himself for a brief moment as he lifted up his arms, trying to remember what it felt like to be in control again. You watched as the man pushed himself to his feet and headed over to the mirror, wanting to see it with his own eyes. "So," You pushed yourself slowly to your feet as you quietly hissed in pain. "We all good?"

“Yeah. We’re good” Sam said. The real Sam that you have missed over the past forty-eight hours was in his own skin again. You felt yourself growing a small smile, happy for everything to be back to normal. “Oh, man, it’s nice to be back.”

“Yeah. Awesome.” Gary muttered. He obviously wasn’t too pleased to be back to his normal physique that was nothing like the younger Winchester's, but it was a lesson he learned. The teenager pushed himself to his feet and turned around to face you and Dean. You crossed your arms over your chest and looked at him straight in the eye. Oh, the trouble he was in. But Gary thought some half-assed apology was going to be enough to get him off the hook. “Yeah. I know—my bad.”

You let out a chuckle as you raised a brow from his answer. "Oh, kid. You have some nerve. ‘My bad’ ain’t gonna cut it. The things you put us through over the past few days…”

“You deserve a good ass kicking, kid. But we’re not monsters. See, if you were of voting age, you’d be dead. Because we would kill you.” Dean told the kid straight out. Gary was taken back from the answer. He looked over at you with a bit of surprise, thinking you might have been trying to scare him, but you nodded your head at the plan if he were just a bit older. “So either you straighten up and fly right or we will kill you. Are we clear?”

Gary vigorously nodded his head, “Crystal.”

"Good. Now get out of my sight." Dean said. Slipping a hand inside his pocket, you felt your arms stretching out so you could catch the keys to the Impala when Dean decided to throw them in your direction. "Y/N, take them home. I'll clean up this mess."

"Wait, really?" You clutched the cold metal in your hands, feeling like Dean had just handed you a million dollars. Baby was his most prized possession. He wouldn't let anyone drive it, not even you. But it seemed that he was starting to warm up to the idea.

"Yes, really. Only on two conditions. You don't crash her, 'cause I will kill you. And second, life's short. I know it's what you've been dying to do." Dean said. You clutched the keys tighter, knowing exactly what he was trying to do. You gave him a small smile, the man returned it with a wink when his little brother wasn't looking.

+ + +

It started to rain when you slid yourself into the driver's side of the Impala, but that didn't let you stop from enjoying every single second of this precious car. Nora gave you directions to their friend's house, where his dead body still laid. You told them a bogus story to tell the police, that should have been enough of a punishment for the both of them for what they did. When you saw the house Gary pointed at to you, you slowly pulled the Impala into the driveway, cutting off the engine. All of you slipped out of the car and back into the pouring pain. You clutched your jacket tighter, watching as Nora began walking to the front door, Gary lingered behind, still pouting at the life he was forced to go back to.

“Gary, look.” Sam stopped the teenager, deciding it wouldn't hurt to leave the young man with a few words of wisdom to help cheer him up. “Take it from someone who knows—chin up, man. Your life ain't that bad.”

“Uh, you met my parents.” Gary said.

“Yeah. So what? It's your life. You don't like their plan for you, tell them to cram it. Rebel a little bit.” Sam said. “In a healthy, non-satanic way, of course.”

“By the way,” You leaned over the car to give the younger man a piece of advice coming from the opposite gender that he probably still had no clue of how they functioned. You nodded your head at Nora, who was quietly waiting for Gary, and gave him a smile when the both of them made eye contact. “You know why Nora’s into witchcraft? She doesn’t like Satan, you moron. She likes you.”

"Really?" Gary asked, a little taken back at the assumption. A small smile spread across his lips as he bashfully looked over at his friend. "You—You think?"

"She followed you into making a deal with a demon and then got possessed by one. Yet, she's still friendly towards you. Yeah," You nodded your head to give him the reassurance he was hoping for. "I think she likes you."

"I'm telling you, kid—I wish I had your life." Sam said. Gary honestly didn't believe the man, but it seemed the younger Winchester was truly envious of the lifestyle he was never given. "Get out of here."

Gary gave all of you an apologetic smile for the trouble that he had caused before he was joining his friend. When the two of them disappeared, you looked over at Sam, just as the rain began to pour down even harder. “That was a nice thing for you to say.”

“I totally lied. That kid’s life sucked ass.” Sam admitted a second later, you let out a quiet laugh from his honest response. Not everything was what it was made out to be. You watched as Sam decided it was time to get inside the Impala after he was starting to get soaked from standing out in the rain for too long. You followed not too long after him and got back into the driver's side. “All that apple-pie, family crap? It’s stressful. Trust me—I didn’t miss a damn thing.”

"It's not all that bad. I mean, sometimes I miss some aspects of it." You retorted back. Sam looked over at you, a bit thrown off guard from your response. You outstretched your arms and placed them on the wheel. "I mean, I know I'm never gonna have the white picket fence and kids. That’s just the consequences of hunting. And I'm fine with that. But there’s some things that I can still feel from my old life.”

“Like, what?” Sam asked.

"Like...have you ever wanted something so bad, but you were afraid to go after it? You were so scared of what might happen, you just keep yourself at the sidelines. I mean, I'm a damn good hunter. I can go just after anything/ But this is...This is stupid." You found yourself somehow going off course from what you were about to say. The words were at the top of your tongue. You've practiced them during the entire drive here. It sounded so easy in your head, but getting yourself do it was so much harder. When you found the courage to look at Sam, he was amused from how you were acting in front of him. He asked you what you were talking about to try and see what was making you so flustered. “It’s just...seeing Gary and Nora. It got me thinking. That’s all.”

“About what, Y/N?” The younger Winchester pressed you a bit harder. You looked over at him to see that his expression had changed. It turned into a softer one, like how it always did when you and him got speaking into deeper conversation. You still kept your lips pressed shut as you slightly shook your head. “Come on. Nothing you say is stupid. You can tell me anything and I won’t look at you any differently.”

You tightened your grip around the steering wheel, the words he told you fueled the fire in your stomach that was starting to grow with butterflies. The rhythm of rain hitting the roof of the Impala chimed in with your rapidly beating heart. You turned your head slightly to look at Sam from the corner of your eye, you took notice of how handsome he looked with his damp hair pushed back after he ran his fingers through it. Biting your bottom lip slightly, you let out a sigh, knowing you were going to regret what you were about to do. But like Dean had said, if you wanted something, you had to just go get it. You couldn't die with regret.

Sam opened his mouth to try and tease the answer out of you, thinking it was something stupid about your teenage years. He was going to make a remark about you being into some satanic stuff, but he never quite got the chance to even let the first word out. He felt himself leaning slightly back in his seat when he felt your weight shift onto his body. Without a warning, you pressed your lips against his, giving into the desire that had been growing in you for over the past year and a half. You felt your eyelids flutter shut, enjoying the sweet taste of everything about him, along with the rain droplets that had remained on him. You wanted to stay like this forever, but reality came on knocking, and you realized what the hell you were doing.

“Oh, my God.” You muttered underneath your breath, cowardly pressing yourself against the driver's side door as your eyes began to grow big. You didn't realize you had decided to launch yourself at Sam. Ever so slowly, you looked over at the younger man to see what sort of deviation you had caused. You could feel your cheeks ignite with fire at the sight of him staring at you with widening eyes, not sure of what happened. "Oh, my God. I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. It's just...You—No, Gary. I'm an idiot for listening to your brother. He told me that you really liked me. And I really like you. Then something about going after what you wanted. So I thought, what the hell? It's just...this is stupid. I'm so—"

You tried your hardest to apologize for what you'd done, thinking you had ruined a friendship and hunting partnership. You wanted to crawl out of the car and die in a corner, but it seemed that Sam didn't a chance to show you how he was going to respond. Your words became muffled when you felt his lips coming down on yours after he turned your head to look at him. The second time around of kissing Sam Winchester was so much better. You felt yourself melting into his embrace as your eyelids fluttered shut, enjoying every single second of this moment that you thought would never come. Sam kissing you back was a good thing, right? Or how he opened his mouth and slightly growled when he tried pulling you closer to him. You'd hadn't had many chances at kissing different boys, but one thing for sure, Sam was the absolute best. He wouldn't let you go, disregarding the fact that the both of you were still in Gary's driveway, and you were running out of air in your lungs.

You pressed your hands on the man's chest, giving yourself a moment to enjoy the feeling of foreign territory, but that's not why you were touching him there. You managed to get yourself out of the hunter's grip and inhale a deep breath that you'd been needing. You stared at him with half hooded eyes and tried your hardest to figure out what you were saying. But you weren't exactly sure. You were concentrating on the sight of Sam with slightly swollen lips, and how his chest kept heaving up and down as he tried to catch his breath.

"Nothing you do is stupid, Y/N. You're one of the, if not, the smartest hunter I've ever met." Sam spoke up, a small smile spread across your lips at his compliment. He knew there was more to say as he shifted around in his spot when the cat was out of the bag. "And...y-yeah. I do like you. It's just, people like me—we don't get happy endings. I’m not a good person. There’s things about me that you shouldn’t have to see. The people I love tend to die pretty viciously."

“Sammy, you tend to forget that I’ve seen you at your very worst. I’ve seen you when you were hooked on the demon blood. I know you’re supposed to be the Devil’s vessel.” You said. Sam winced slightly at what you had brought up, as they weren’t the man’s best moments. Reaching out a hand, you squeeze his. “But that doesn’t mean you’re getting rid of me that easily. I would kind of like to see what could happen if we don’t let the world end.”

“Who says we have to wait until it’s over?” Sam asked.

You glanced over at the man to see that he was staring at you with a smirk. It didn’t take much for you to lean over and press your lips against his, deciding for this moment, you would forget about the world around you. You didn’t realize how cramped the Impala was, but with a quick shift of the seats, you were sitting comfortably in Sam’s lap. You gave him a soft giggle as you bent down to press his lips against his, wanting to spend a few more minutes on the theory that Sam was a good kisser. As you were barely millimeters from his, you stopped at the sound of a phone going off. You leaned back and looked at Sam with a confused expression. You thought all of your phones had been thrown out, all except for one. The younger Winchester managed to have found a single flip phone that had managed to slip underneath the seat. As he flipped it open to answer, you heard that it was Dean, and he wasted no time into what mattered.

“I’m guessing the reason why you two are taking forever is because you’ve finally come to your senses. And while that’s great and all, let’s get one thing straight. You guys bone in my car, and I’ll kill you. Now, get your asses back here.”

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fly-pow-bye · 6 years

Text

DuckTales 2017 - “The Ballad of Duke Baloney!”

Story by: Francisco Angones, Madison Bateman, Colleen Evanson, Christian Magalhaes, Bob Snow

Written by: Colleen Evanson

Storyboarded by: Jean-Sebastien Duclos, Mike Morris, Sam King

Directed by: Jason Zurek

Not full of balogna.

Here’s an interesting way to start this "ballad": begin with a scene from the season finale that didn't really have a conclusion. I just saw as a good way to include a beloved villain in a montage filled with cameos from previous episodes. There was clearly more to this story, but it wasn't important compared to the whole "sorceress just took over the entire town" plot.

In particular, Glomgold’s shadow ends up throwing him into the ocean. As he shouts “curse you, me”, he ends up nearly drowning, only to be saved by some fishers.

Specifically, he wakes up to find himself caught in a net. Glomgold reacts as well as one would expect, telling these fishermen to get their hands off of him. Turns out, that's not the right word to say.

Lady: Whoa, fisherperson?

The "gag" with her is that she wants everything to be more socially conscious, though I'm not sure if this is supposed to be one. Their names, from left to right, are Fisher and Mann, something Fisher point out almost immediately to defend this stranger's wrong word. Glomgold isn't having it, and asks them if they knows who he is. They don't, as they're simple fisherpeople. He tries to exclaim in a dramatic way, until he realizes...

...even he doesn’t know. Yes, this episode starts with that cliche where someone loses all of his memories after a bump in the head, or a bunch of water going through it in this case. However, they use this as an excuse.

After the theme song, we cut to a report showing what exactly happened between Glomgold’s disappearance and now. A new CEO just barged into Glomgold’s absence, as she literally pushes away his silhouette to reveal herself. Her name is Zan Owlson. I swear, I misheard it as Van Owlsing, and that still made sense. Glomgold is practically a vampire compared to her.

Even the newsreporter decides to tell the viewers that this new CEO is not insane. We get a small bio of her past: she was the top of her class, and she ran a charity called Change for Chicks! No, Johnny Bravo, she means literal chicks. Unlike her predecessor, she cuts a lot of funding dedicated to revenge and sharks. Even moreso unlike her predecessor, she is completely open to make deals with long-time rival company McDuck Enterprises, as we see her shake hands with its CEO.

In other words, she’s exactly the opposite of Glomgold in every way, as enhanced by the news cutting to a Simpsons-esque file photo gag of him eating shrimp in an unflattering manner at a charity auction. Maybe the one from The Golden Lagoon from Agony Plains?

It’s also shown by the old Glomgold logo being replaced by a treasure chest filled with a bunch of people. She doesn’t even include herself in this, definitely not something Glomgold would do.

Zan Owlson: At Glomgold Industries, our community is the greatest treasure of all.

She even makes an outright reference to the Glomgold motto that Glomgold just made up to get those henchmen he hired to like him in Woo-oo. What happened to those guys?

We cut from the newsreport, which we barely get back to, to a fisherperson's wharf, where Louie and Webby are planning on going fishing. While it’s a day in the limelight episode for Glomgold, that doesn’t mean we don’t get to see the nephews and honorary niece.

Webby is all about hunting fish in a more barbaric way with a stick, while Louie just wants to fish with a fishing rod. Louie is more of the straight man here, though they seem to swap back and forth between scenes depending on one's viewpoint. They do realize that they forgot one thing that would help them immensely, and there happens to be someone with a South African accent.

While his beard was dyed by several unfortunate squid ink-related accidents and his accent has changed, it’s clearly the duck that attempted to kill them and their uncle several times over. They react very similarly to Bart and Lisa Simpson reacting to Sideshow Bob, but this bearded guy has no idea who this Glomgold guy is.

He rechristened himself “Duke Baloney”, just like the humble sandwich meat, in his words. This does not go well with Louie, who already makes the obvious quip about his name. Webby has to take him aside to talk about this.

Webby and Louie get into their conflict, though for Webby, it's a little less defined and more just "she doesn't agree with Louie's idea". Louie thinks this is all just an act, and he even says he should know because it takes a con artist to know one. Webby, on the other hand, thinks that he really is suffering from this and needs to go back to his old self. Either that, or maybe this is Glomgold turning into a good person like a reverse werewolf, her reasoning changes throughout the episode.

They do humor the idea that maybe this guy is just a different person altogether, but then he gets caught in his own rope trap.

Duke Baloney: Curse you, rope!

Louie & Webby: It’s him.

This is a slight hint that this will probably not be permanent. That would be an odd way to write off a huge arch-nemesis!

Glomgold invites them over to what I now realize is the closest TV-Y7-FV equivalent to a bar, offering them a bucket of fish heads, to Louie's disapproval. I’m sure real ducks eat a lot worse than that.

Webby tries to show off a Missing poster with Glomgold on it that also seems to function as a wanted poster due to tax evasion! Oh, how unrealistic, everyone knows rich people always get away with that. Unfortunately, all this gets is scorn from Baloney’s fellow crewmates for even suggesting he’s related to that tyrant. This is a "bully-free zone" according to that one fisherperson, after all. That's pretty much it for the socially conscious aspect of her character.

Even Louie joins in on this chants along with everyone else. Sure, he was totally against the guy, but the boy just wants his free Pep! However, Webby notices the money happens to have a very fancy money clip. They decide to stay back to investigate this from afar.

A general theme that pops up in this episode is that Duke Baloney may have amnesia, but his inner Glomgold continues to show more and more. This especially comes in once we see a McDuck Enterprise company get involved. While this doesn't entirely revive his memory, he does get a sudden dislike for "that boat."

This is especially shown with disagreements with his fellow crewmembers. The crewmembers are okay with being #2, However, considering #1 is owned the richest duck in the world, I wouldn't blame them for not wanting to fight a battle they can't win. Duke Baloney, on the other hand, doesn't see that as impossible.

One clever bit is that he does the cliche “look at me, I’m a pretty lady and not a trap” gag, and realizes he could get more fish if he did something for the ladies, too. He never does realize that, if this plan did work, he would get some really messy fish guts. All in all, aside from the dynamite, he just seems like this misunderstood guy who’s down on his luck.

At least, that's what Webby thinks. Louie accuses her of being naive about this, as that’s what she assumed when she was a humble deliveryman and a humble pastry chef. Yeah, Louie, you invited him to a party, if I remember correctly.

While looking at Baloney trying to convince his fellow co-fisherpeople to do a plan that is oddly similar to that Scottish guy. Webby & Louie, continuing to spy on this kind fellow to confirm their different suspicions. Louie says that he's going to be thrown in a pit full of sharks with bombs strapped on to them. Webby says that's ridiculous...

...and we immediately cut to Duke Baloney's plan to get fish, which just happened to get to the part involving sharks with bombs strapped onto them. They don't have womp womp music, they're not that blatant most of the time.

This whole scene is funny, though; it's just like that scene from The Infernal Internship of Mark Beaks where Glomgold details his plan with similar drawing. Speaking of plots that weren't resolved in the episode that could use a continuation...that one. Louie and Webby still can't see what any of this could prove, so Webby has an idea that Louie is not a big fan of: record investigation!

Granted, Louie getting hit in the face probably didn't help in any way. I like how the next scene shows Louie walking into Webby’s investigation room. See, anything can have a consequence, even slight gags like that one.

She gets out her board, with a drawing of the moneyclip, a picture of Glomgold, and a picture of Duke Baloney, and...nothing else. She couldn't find anything. Not only is there no record of Duke Baloney, there’s no record of Flintheart Glomgold before he came to America.

In order to find more information and possibly either reveal Glomgold's evil plan or bring Glomgold back to normal, they decide to do a plan involving a certain rich duck. If one can ask why would they want to bring Glomgold back to his former self to terrorize the McDucks, just wait.

Meanwhile, in Duke Baloney’s dreams, we see a bizarre sequence full of odd imagery. Some of it is obviously referencing what will happen in the future, some of which possibly not even in this episode. One of the big ones that isn’t addressed again is that shot on the bottom left. Everyone knows Glomgold is evil, but…is there a more spiritual reason we don’t know about?

That’s not the only unanswered question, either. The shortest description I could say is that he constantly gets a message from what looks like his younger self that the boiler room is out, who slowly turns into Zan Owlson. No connection is made to how Glomgold would be familiar enough with the new CEO to have her appear in his dreams, since all of this happened after he got amnesia.

While most of this dream sequence's symbolism is subtle, there is one line that just whacks you right in the head.

Duke Baloney: This GOLD! It’s GLOOMING onto me!

Yeah, that’s pretty forced. It's at the end of the dream sequence, they may have felt that they needed something blatant at the end to make him wake up.

He wakes up, and his final reaction to all of this? To essentially tell himself to "never mind all that." Hey, it’s not like those dreams mean anything, anyway!

While Duke Baloney is getting welcomed into the family of fisherpeople and telling himself that nothing can possibly ruin this day, in comes Scrooge McDuck. He was invited by Webby and Louie the to talk it out to see what's really going on.

We don't get to hear their conversations, and neither do Louie and Webby, so Webby tries to read their lips. Of course, she does it in a way that makes it seem like she was right all along, even making them say "oh, that Webby was correct all along, huh? I wish I was his housekeeper's granddaughter!" However, while she may be able to read lips, the next move shocks both her and Louie. They look like they're going to fight...

...and then they hug it out. After all the time of Webby seemingly succeeding at everything she does throughout Season 1, it’s a little refreshing to see her actually be wrong for a change. Nobody’s perfect...I learned that with the last episode. Scrooge tells them he's far happier this way, and they should just let him be Duke Baloney.

Webby and Louie accept this, and decide to go back to their initial plan of fishing. However, a storm is brewing.

Duke Baloney, who somehow has that missing/wanted poster, decides that even if he was this Glomgold fellow, he wants his life at the sea. He throws the paper, but it hits him right in the face, symbolically proving that any kind of face turn with him is ultimately futile.

The storm starts happening, and Baloney sees Webby and Louie in trouble. Being the hero that he is now, he tries to. However, he gets hit by, and ends up nearly drowning in the same way he did in the beginning of the episode.

We get another scene from Baloney’s subconscious, but this time we get an outright memory rather than symbolism. In particular: this one is right from one of Baloney’s repressed memories. I decided that outright spoiling it wouldn’t add anything to the review, but the best hint I could give is that I really do mean Baloney’s repressed memories. That shot from the dream I had on the top right is a pretty good hint of foreshadowing this, too.

I will say this: the first thing I did after watching this episode was look up whether or not any of this had any basis in the original comics. The simple answer is not really. While Scrooge first meets Glomgold in South Africa, Glomgold was already grown-up and clearly evil from day one. This flashback adds another dimension to that entirely.

There is one important-to-the-plot takeaway from this, a literal one, I might add, but I’ll talk about it later.

Everyone’s cheering him on to save the kids, and it appears that maybe, just maybe...no, of course not. What did you think was going to happen? No, he made his decision. He says it in such an epic way, that I decided to make this a GIF. A really small GIF to fit Tumblr's restrictions, but I had to keep that animation as smooth as it was.

Duke, er, Flintheart Glomgold: (in his usual Scottish accent) Because I'm Flintheart Glomgold...and I always will be! Ha ha ha ha ha!

I know I implied that I didn't want to spoil, but this scene is just so amazing. It's a lot smoother, they needed to animate it on the ones. It's an impressive sight seeing him laugh with all that lightning behind him.

I did give him a little bit of a That seems to work in his favor, as he happened to have his a spare grey beard in this pocket this whole time. It makes more sense when you watch the episode, trust me.

We somehow fade to him being surrounded by his crewmembers and their friends under very calm weather. This is the one scene transition that doesn't really add up to me. Was the storm in his head the whole time? These former crewmembers only accuse Glomgold of stealing from children rather than attempted murder, which seems to go with that theory.

One thing's for sure: Duke Baloney has left the building, and now it’s Glomgold’s time forever. He starts a Glomgold chant that even he expects no one will join in, as he dives into the water.

This chant continues with him going into his formerly owned organization, where Scrooge was talking with Zan Owlson about how using nickels would save more money than dimes.

Scrooge and Glomgold making a big deal, mostly due to Glomgold still having an all-important money clip, referenced. Yeah, Scrooge treats it like it’s this big deal, suggesting there’s something more to it than just gold. Honestly, considering the Number One Dime twist in The Shadow war, it could be anything at this point.

Also, I am so glad they apparently didn’t decide to push the reset button to prevent any potential plots with Van Owlson, since she barely did anything in this episode other than show her apparent benevolence. Quite a few plot points to this new story arc...at least, I hope it’s a new story arc. I have no reason to believe it’s not.

Oh yeah, and no Dewey in the episode for the first time ever. Not even a mention. How weird!

How does it stack up?

Despite only having an A plot, it is indeed an A plot this time. I can’t wait to see what happens next with this future plot this time. There's some very interesting twists to the classic Glomgold character, and I’d say it could pay off in the future. No bologna here, that’s for sure.

Next, America may not be getting their cartoon, but they will be getting their DuckTales 2017 appearance!

← The Depths of Cousin Fethry! 🦆 The Town Where Everyone Was Nice! →

#fpb dt 2017 #ducktales 2017 #fpb reviews #ducktales #disney

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