More Than Friends - Supernatural Season 2 ( Sam Winchester × Reader)

Time flies

Week 1, Day 1
Minnesota
1:30 p.m.

You enter the house slowly, your heart thudding in your chest. You take deep breaths and shut the door behind you.

A rotten smell wafted into the room and you keep yourself from gagging. You immediately turn back and face the door, your heartbeat ringing in your ears.

"You're fine," you whisper to yourself. "You're gonna be fine."

Dropping your duffel bag on the ground, you take a few steps forward, not knowing what to do next.

But your feet were moving by your heart's command and you found yourself walking to the dining room.

The smell got stronger and you see the huge red stain on the wooden flooring. It was taunting you, telling you do to something. The longer you stared at it, the more you felt the urge to cry.

Finally, two minutes later, you make your way to the kitchen and fill a bucket of water and take a sponge, trying to think of happy thoughts. But you try not to think of your parents. If you did, the weight on your chest would only get heavier.

Moments you spent with the Winchester brothers, Dean's jokes, Sam, bees buzzing in a summer afternoon, clouds moving slowly in a baby blue sky, a beautiful sunset in the shades of red and yellow, Sam.

Sam.

You wanted him there with you so bad it hurt.

Week 2, Day 13
9:17 p.m.

The evidence bag made a crinkling sound as you rip open the seal to take out what was inside. Blood stained everything. The clothes, your dad's watch, their rings.

You immediately break down in tears and sobs and drop the bag to the ground.

Week 4, Day 28
10:28 a.m.

You look at the freshly dug graves next to each other, with matching tombstones.

Not another soul was in the cemetery except for you, with the flowers in your forgotten hand. You read the inscription on the tombstones over and over again, fingering with the two bands of silver hung from your chain.

Your parents' rings.

Y/m/n Y/l/n
Loving wife and mother
Rest in peace
--/--/-- - --/--/2006

Y/f/n Y/l/n
Loving husband and father
Rest in peace
--/--/-- - --/--/2006

Your neighbor's had undertaken the task of planning a funeral for your parents when you had gone missing right after you found them.

They had come to your house the day before, giving a chicken casserole to you but you had been in no mood for any interaction so you had closed the door in their face after taking the dish.

'Nothing says I'm sorry for your loss than a casserole,' you think, reciting Max Miller's words.

You stew in self-hatred as you look at the plain tombstones, nothing separating them from the other ones in the cemetery.