fandom one-shots

sam winchester - supernatural

word count : 2107

"And this is why we can't have nice things, Sam Winchester."

He laughed at your comment, continuing to eat his peanut butter and banana sandwich. You just shook your head at the younger Winchester, leaning back in the chair and pulling the nearby afghan closer around your shoulders. The old heater in the corner barely provided enough warmth for the both of you, and it didn't help that Bobby's house was way older than that damn heater.

It was a cold winter day outside, and Sam and his brother Dean had just gotten back from a werewolf hunt. They had originally come to visit Bobby, but when they heard you were going to be in town, Sam had jumped at the opportunity to catch up with you. So here you two were, sitting in the living room of Bobby's house and drinking hot chocolate and talking about all that had happened since you were teenagers. Dean and Bobby were out getting supplies before an incoming snow storm hit later in the evening.

It was a strange feeling that you felt, like a rush of nostalgia, as you sat in an old rocking chair. There you were, with your childhood friend whom you hadn't seen in years, reminiscing on the good old days of when Sam and Dean's dad would stop by Bobby's for a few hours with his sons or leave the brothers with the old drunk for a few days while he went out on a hunt. Every time they were over at Bobby's, Sam and you were inseparable. He would always tell you about the big baddies his dad and older brother fought, or you and him would make up stories where you guys would be the heroes. You always told each other secrets, too, and would giggle about some silly joke afterwards. It was sort of like a tradition for you two.

Throughout all of those years, there was one secret you had sworn to never tell Sam- that he was your childhood crush. That statement still held true even today. If you ever told him, you were afraid that he'd hate you and never speak to you again. Worse, he'd never come back, and you couldn't do that to Bobby. So you settled for just being his friend and silently trying to convince yourself that you didn't love him. That you can't love him.

"Hey, do you remember when we tried to run away?" Sam commented, pulling you from your thoughts.

"Why wouldn't I?" you replied with a small smile, remembering what was probably one of the best and worst days of your life.

It had been a crummy day. Nothing was going right for you, and apparently it hadn't for Sam either. As you both sat cross-legged on the old rug in Bobby's guest room and complained about your days to each other, Sam got an idea.

"Why don't we run away?" he interjected, tucking his hair behind his ears.

"What?" You stared at him, his sudden statement surprising you. The words processed in your head, and the more you thought about it, the more the idea appealed to you. "When did you come up with that?"

"Just now," Sam replied, looking at you with curious eyes. "I mean, think about it! We both hate this life, this hunter junk, and we have all we need at our disposal." He gestured to his bag that rested near the foot of the bed. "You and I, we'd make it. I'm eighteen, and you're almost eighteen, so it'd work out. I know a place where they'd never find us, too."

"Oh?" You raised an eyebrow at him, resting your chin in the palm of your hand. "And where would that be, Sammy?"

He rolled his eyes at the nickname and said, "Maine."

"Maine?"

"The most boring place on earth, and certainly where they wouldn't expect us to go." Sam nodded, as if he were trying to assure himself. "And I know how much you like snow, Y/N. They have plenty of it."