Getting Back

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It had been two weeks since Sam and Dean forced you to leave. You continued to hunt, just like Castiel said you could. You took down some small cases in towns that were 500 miles away or less. You tried to stay home if you weren't doing a case, but naturally you went out to a bar every once in a while. "I wouldn't typically consider scotch very ladylike," a low raspy British voice spoke.
You turned your head and saw a man that was small in stature but with a decent build, short graying hair and stubble that was on the verge of being just a beard. He was handsome, but age hadn't done him much. "I live a hard life," you replied, taking another sip.
"Oh I don't doubt it."
"What's that supposed to mean?" you asked suspiciously.
"It means I'm about to make it this much harder." The man snapped his fingers and suddenly you were back at the house.
You stood across from each other in the living room. "Demon," you said. Then you began to choke. He was going to make you choke on your own blood.
"Not just any demon," he said as he pulled out a cell phone. "I'm the King of Hell."
He dialed and suddenly you heard Sam's voice. "What do you want Crowley?" Sam spat.
"Well, I've got you and Squirrel's little girlfriend here choking on her own blood until you arrive," Crowley said deviously.
"He's lying," Dean's gruff voice spoke up.
"No I'm not," Crowley taunted and held the phone closer to your mouth so the boys could hear you choking and gasping for air.
"We're six hours away, how are we supposed to get there before you choke her to death?" Dean sassed.
"Why don't you get your little angel friend to drop you off?" Crowley retorted with just as much attitude. No response from the boys. "You have fifteen minutes before she dies," Crowley said before hanging up.
He snapped his fingers again and suddenly the pain was gone and you could breathe. "They're not going to come," you said. "Your little demon Lido already tried this. They're not stopping the trials again. Especially not for me."
"Doesn't matter. If you're lying I win. If you're not... well, just one less hunter to worry about."
With Crowley's comment, you lost all sense of will. If they didn't come, you'd die at his hands, and that would be okay. If they did come, it would only be to handle the situation and then leave until the trials were finished. "Fuck you," you spat.
Ten minutes passed before Crowley got suspicious. "Alright boys, come on out. No point in trying to catch me by surprise," he called. Sam appeared from the hall behind you and relaxed his gun in his hand. "And Squirrel?"
"Dying at the bunker."
"Don't lie to me, moose."
After a few moments, Dean came inside from the back door of the house. Oh god, he looked awful. And at the snap of Crowley's fingers, you and Sam were knocked to the ground, and you were coughing up blood again. "Let her go and we'll give you what you want," Sam said in a strained voice.
"Funny, that's not what [Y/N] here seems to think," Crowley tells him.
You suffered in pain while Sam and Dean tried to pick a fight with Crowley, which distracted him enough for Castiel to swoop in unsuspected.
There's a puddle of your blood on the floor, but Crowley was in demon proof cuffs in the trunk of the impala. Sam returned from outside by the car, and lifted you off the floor. You let him help enough to get you standing before pulling away from him. "Don't touch me. Just leave," you said bitterly.
"[Y/N]..." Sam replied.
"I don't want to hear it. I understand why you sent me away. I just don't agree with how you did it. So, go. Save the world. Then come back to me and we can forget about it. Okay?" you asked.
Sam knew it was better to just leave the issue alone. At least for now, although he might regret it later. So he leaned down, pulled your head to his lips to give you a kiss on the forehead, then walked out the door, closing the door behind him.
You went to the kitchen and grabbed a rag and a bowl of water to clean up the blood stains on the hardwood.
~~~
Days passed. Then the days became weeks. Then the weeks became months. You figured you might as well give up on waiting for Sam. By now, you knew Dean had to be long gone. You quietly mourned to yourself, not knowing when or how everything must've gone down. But you knew. Part of what gave it away was Castiel's absence. If it had been this long and they hadn't been able to finish the trials he'd still be checking on you to make sure you didn't try to find a way back.
You thought about the Winchesters every day, wondering, mourning. But never on a hunt- no, it would distract you just like you were evidently distracting them. Something, sadness maybe, got the better of you. Today had just been that day that you accepted Sam would never come back. That he must've been too devastated after Dean died to even want to.
You were so dissociative that you didn't even remember how you got here. Outside of an abandoned warehouse. You were leaving your hunt when you heard the familiar rumble of the impala. When you looked up, there it was. And there was Sam. He got out of the car and you immediately ran into his arms, almost knocking off his balance. "I thought you'd never come," you murmured.
He rubbed your back and held you tight. "Well, I'm here now. Let's go home."
The car ride home was quiet. You held Sam's hand, your fingers intertwined, but there were no words. You thought that since it had been this long there wouldn't have to be. He took his time, now he was finally here with you. The gates of Hell were shut, and at the very least you no longer had to worry about demons. Maybe it would be enough to let you live a normal life. But was that what you wanted?
When you got home, it was all teeth and tongues and skin. As soon as the door shut, Sam was on you like a leech. But you were just as pent up as he was, so you tore his clothes off as much as he did yours. He lifted you up and wrapped your legs around his waist once you were both stripped down and pressed you against the wall, allowing you to feel his painfully hard dick against you. "Sam," you breathed. "Just fuck me."
That was all it took, and he pushed his full length into you. You gasped at the sensation, Sam stretching you in all the right ways. Then he started moving. You clawed at his shoulders when you got close, and he grabbed your wrists and held them over your head, and two more thrusts and you were gone. If Sam hadn't been holding you up, you'd be on the floor. Your body went shaky and limp, and after a few more thrusts, Sam came too. He went limp against you for a moment, pinning your body to the wall with his, but shortly pulled out and carried you bridal style into your bedroom. With how exhausted you both were, you immediately fell asleep upon hitting the bed.
The next morning, you woke up alone in bed, and you almost thought everything that happened last night with Sam had just been a dream. Then you heard the shower running, and got up to go to the bathroom. "Sam?" you called.
"Just showering, you can come in if you want," he replied.
You opened the door and thought, Hell I've got this far. You stepped into the shower with Sam. "Hey," you said.
He turned to face you and held you in his arms, smiling. "Hey."
"So... last night..."
"Was amazing. And I'm sorry I pushed you away-"
"Let's not talk about that part. Can we just... be together? Be happy? No distractions? No hunting?" you asked.
Sam's face softened. "Hell yes."
There was no sex. Just intimacy as Sam washed your body and hair. He gently massaged every part of you he touched. After a while of just standing in the shower rinsing off, Sam turned the water off and you both got out to dry off.
You were eating breakfast when Sam spoke up. "Dean wants to know if we can have dinner tomorrow night."
What... okay, Sam had to be going crazy. Something happened in those months he was gone and he went off the deep end. "Sam... what are you talking about?" you asked.
He looked up at you. "Dean... my brother... are you okay, sweetie?" he asked.
"Me?" you replied. "Am I okay? You're the one that thinks his dead brother wants to have dinner tomorrow night!"
"[Y/N], what are you talking about? Why would Dean be dead?" he asked, dumbfounded. Okay, he really wasn't playing around.
"Because he did the trials! God's trials?! To shut the gates of Hell?!" Shit. Am I the one going crazy? "Never mind," you said, getting up and going outside. When you stepped out of the house, you felt something knock you to your knees. You landed on your hands and knees and when you looked down at your wrists there were rope burns. "What the..."
~~~
"[Y/N]!" Sam yelled desperately. He was a mess. His hair was thin, his eyes were hollowed, his jawline somewhat sunken. He had already lost Dean and he couldn't lose you too. Not now. He had finally built up the courage to come back to you. He slapped your face gently at first. But with his fear that you were already dead growing, he slapped you harder. "Wake up!" he cooed. "Come on, wake up," he said, more softly now. With still no response, he pulled out the needle draining you of your blood and cut you down from the ropes you were in. Sam laid you down on the cold wet ground of the abandoned warehouse and cradled your face in his hands. "I'm sorry, [Y/N], this is all my fault. I should've been with you a long time ago."
~~~
Then nothing was wrong. Your wrists were normal, you felt fine although you were on the ground. You pushed yourself to your feet and went back inside. "Sam... why'd you leave me?" you asked.
"You know why..." Sam began.
"I know, just tell me," you argued.
"Because... you said I wasn't going to be a good influence on Peter and you wanted me to get out. Because of the... the demon blood..." What the fuck? Peter? Demon blood?
"Sam, you don't even know Peter," you said, choking back tears. "Sam, Peter's dead. He has been for five years..."
"Why do you think everyone is dead? No, [Y/N]. Peter is eight. He's out with Dean for the day right now. Remember?"
"Sam, what you're saying isn't making any sense!" you said.
"I'm taking you to see a doctor," Sam stood and took your hand.
You pulled away. "This isn't real," you whispered, shaking your head. "You're not real."
Sam tried to recover you. "Baby, I'm real. Last night felt real to you, didn't it?"
"No, no, no, this isn't right." But you wanted to stay. You so desperately wanted to stay because this was a world where Dean was alive and Peter was alive and Sam was all yours and everything was perfect.
"Are you saying I'm not right?" Sam asked, and you melted. You knew he wasn't real but you wished he was. You still felt like leaving this Sam was wrong.
No Sam you're not wrong, you're perfect, you thought. "No, Sam, this isn't right... wait, why did you come back?"
"Because I wasn't just going to give up," he said, as if it were obvious. "You wouldn't, would you?"  

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