𝐒𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 [ˢᵘᵖᵉʳⁿᵃᵗᵘʳᵃˡ]✔

chapter nine.

 Although the night might be their last night, there was a cheery buzz at Bobby's house. They had told Bobby, Ellen and Castiel all that Crowley had told them and asked them to do. As usual Bobby called it a whole load of horse crap until Monica clarified that Crowley needed Lucifer dead as much as they did. She had secretly told Castiel about the voice calling to her in the dark but he had told her not to worry. She would need her powers later on to see where Lucifer would be.

"So last night on Earth... it's been fun," Jo said, they sat on the kitchen top, bottle of beer in hand and a smile on her lips. She knew what Jo had really wanted to say was that she had liked being friends with Monica. Monica could say the same; they worked best as a team, helping each other on hunting and everything in between.
"You're a good friend, Jo," she said. Jo smiled before looking up.
"Hello Monica, could I have a minute with Jo?," Dean asked. Monica winked at Jo and smiled at Jo, teasing her.

"Sure, take as long as you want," she said before noticing Sam was sitting alone on the porch. She slowly opened the door so not to scare him.
"Hey," she said quietly, Sam looked up and smiled, patting the space next to him. She smiled as she sat down, wrapping a blanket around herself.

"What are you thinking about?," she asked, taking his hand. He squeezed it tightly before looking at her.
"Can't you just read my mind or something?," he asked. She laughed slightly and shook her head.
"I don't want to get into your head," she said. His face darkened as he stared ahead.
"Why? Because you won't like all the shit that's up there," he said curtly.
"No! Because I respect you and what's in your head is yours; it's private," she said.

It wasn't like she wasn't ever tempted to see if Sam felt the same way she did. But she always stopped herself. It was better to never know than realise things could never be the way you want.
"So you don't respect the others?," he asked, a small hint of a smile on his lips.
"I do it's just that....you're different Sam," she said daring to look Sam in the eye. He leaned in, kissing her softly at first. Monica could barely think,everything around her just fell away. They were slow and soft, comforting in a way her words could never be. His hand rested near her neck, caressing her cheeks as their breaths mingled. She ran her hand down his back, pulling him closer until there was no space between them and she could feel the beating of his heart against her chest.

But too soon it was over and Sam pulled away, looking bewildered. She exhaled deeply, her eyes half closed and savouring the feeling. His hands were still around her as she looked up.
"Monica-," he started but she shushed him with another kiss. Leaning into him she snuggled closer, his hand around her shoulders and her around his waist.
"Just sit here Sam, for a little while," she muttered, closing her eyes. She felt him kiss the top of her head as they sat there.

When Monica woke she wasn't on the porch. Instead she was tucked up in a bed in one of Bobby's rooms. Sitting up she checked the clock as saw it was still early. Laying back she looked up at the ceiling. Her mind wandered to her time before she met the Winchesters. Before she knew what she was. Her sister Amber and herself had been so close; almost inseparable. It was Amber who guided her through her first day of high school, her first bra and time of the month. Amber had been there for her, yet when Monica had needed her older sister the most Amber had pushed her away because she was 'different'. They'd all thought she was mad when she'd first started having visions. Painful images that scorched her mind, left her shaking uncontrollably on her bedroom floor. Then the meds came along but they didn't stop it they only slowed them down.

"There's no use dwelling on the past. Focus on what's in front of you," a voice in her head told her. Looking in front of her Monica's eyes landed on a plaid shirt draped at the foot of the bed. Sam's shirt. And this was Sam's room! Swinging her legs out of bed she saw she was still in last night's clothes and reached for the door at the same time.
"Oh, hey Monica," Sam, said brightly, walking inside. She closed the door and saw he was carrying a tray of breakfast. Sam looked up and frowned when she was still standing there.