Pity The Saved, Not The Damned

Wherever I Go, It's All The Same

Sam sighed, kicking aside the hex bag. Another dead lead. Maybe that's too on the nose, he thought looking at the dead witch.

She thought she had him pinned and was going to use him as a pawn in Heaven and Hell's current war.

Guess no one let her in on a little secret about Sam's abilities. Not that anyone really knows about it, Sam didn't find out on purpose.

He walked out of the room, over the body. She played her cards stupidly, however, she was a very gifted woman.

Going to room to room, Sam walked around, grabbing essential ingredients he's been struggling to find.

None of it would do what he needed, but they're good for other things. He grabbed a lot of herbs with protective abilities, out of habit but also to try and reverse them.

She had a good stock, it was a shame that most of it will go to waste. He made sure to browse through everything, books included.

Once he was sure he grabbed anything useful, he packed it away into his bag. He considered burning the place down. But it didn't seem necessary, there's no one for miles, and a spell that helps invade most intruders.

Stepping out of the house, it seemingly disappeared again. He just continued his walk. Pulling out a piece of paper and crossing her name off the list.

He didn't want to kill her, he's befriended most people on the list, but power makes people do crazy things. He knows that well over.

It was still early in the day, he could simply trek further into the woods and maybe set up somewhere there.

Some theories ran through his brain, how he could break down his new stock. Last week he managed to stay down for three days.

It was the longest he's managed, and while it was awful being trapped with Lucifer for that long, it was worth it. He'd spend an eternity with Lucifer if it meant that this war was over, allowing him to pay for his sins.

He walked and followed nature's guide to a creek. Now all he needed was a clear area, but it was pretty dense here.

Sam set his bag down, opening it and picked up his axe head. The stick that was on the outside of his bag, he grabbed it and started to put them back together.

It helped that he had a little extra insurance that they'd stay together with a little spellwork. They were practically melted into each other now that they're reconnected. And to undo it, all he had to do was chant a few words to get it to release.

Witches. They have taught him a lot since he started this suicide mission. Lots of them helped just for the Hell of it, they get a Winchester as an ally, meaning no one is going to be after them as long as Sam's breathing. And since he's trying to do the impossible, they've got nothing to lose.

Or so they believe. Sam's more determined now than he ever has been. He put that determination and anger into the axe that he swung into the tree that he was clearing.

He asked for its forgiveness before chopping away, so he has a tree trunk as a table to throw together a new spell.

It didn't take very long for the tree to knock down, and hit the ground with a loud thump. With that out of the way, he could set up camp.

It shouldn't take too long to throw together the mixture. Either it worked or it didn't. While he always worked in a rushed manner, he was still careful about and intentional about each step.

Jotting down everything he used and how he did, and the result that came from it. Best way to avoid repeats and to figure out what ingredients work and which ones don't.