It had started off as a regular day. Just another hunt - that was it. In fact, that morning when you complained and grumbled to Sam about the hunt, he had grinned at you and promised that you'd both stay in bed and binge when it was over.

Needless to say, that time never came.

At the same time, it was as if the day knew you wouldn't go back home after the hunt. It was way too special that day. Too many good things happened, neither of them preparing Sam for what would happen soon enough.

He wished he'd seen it coming.

_ _ _ _ _

"Shotguns?"

"Check." Together, you and Sam were in the garage, checking for all the supplies in the trunk of the impala.

"Knives? Machetes? Blades?" You asked, reading off the list in front of you. Sam hummed, shuffling through the compartment.

"Check, check, and check." You looked up from your paper with a grin.

"How about a kiss?" You watched as he furrowed his eyebrows, bending over to further search for the item.

"A kiss?" He asked, confused. "I don't -" And then it hit him as he slowly stood straight, a soft smile on his face. Lowly chuckling, he turned you, wrapping his arms around your waist as he tugged your body closer to his.

Resting your hands against his chest, you strained up, searching for a sweet peck, at the very least. Sam ducked lower, reaching you in the middle as he kissed your lips sweetly. As always, you felt the small spark between you, and you couldn't help but smile wide when he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours.

"Check."

_ _ _ _ _

"You guys want dinner?" Dean asked, walking backwards towards the convenience store. You laughed, leaning against the impala where Sam was filling it with gas.

"Considering it's currently three in the morning, and your idea of dinner is a bag of chips and Mountain Dew, no thank you." Dean shrugged.

"Sam?" The younger Winchester shook his head before Dean jogged off into the convenience store where Cas was already waiting for him. Turning to Sam, you grinned.

"So, what? Our three year anniversary is today, and you still haven't said anything about it?" He chuckled, shrugging.

"What do you want me to say?" And now, you laughed, bumping his shoulder.

"I don't know! Maybe that you have something planned? Or even that you bought a two dollar necklace for me? No surprise this year?" He remained silent, a smile on his face as he stared at the floor. Then, after an eternity, he looked up at you.

"You want a surprise? So, marry me." The edge of your lips turned upward in a ridiculous grin, and you could hear Dean's shouting as they returned from the store, no doubt calling dibs on the biggest bag of chips.

"Okay."

_ _ _ _ _

"Dean, are you sure?" You asked, incredulous as you stepped out from the backseat. He smiled at you, an eyebrow cocked.

"Don't ask me that. I just might change my mind." He replied jokingly. Sliding into the front seat, you let a shuddering breath escape your lips as you ran your hands over the leather of the steering wheel.

"You've never let me drive the impala before." You murmured in awe. He shut your door before clumsily clambering into the backseat with Castiel, shutting his door as well.

"Yeah, well, there's a first for everything. I'm takin' a nap, so I'm trusting you, Sam, to keep an eye on your little girlfriend over here. Don't want her wrecking Baby." Sam laughed as you watched Dean through the rearview mirror, turning so he was leaning his head against Cas' shoulder with his feet at the door, crossing his arms.

Nervously, you gripped the wheel a little firmer now, biting your bottom lip. And suddenly, you could feel a hand on your shoulder as you turned around. Sam smiled at you.

"Don't be nervous. It's just like driving any other old car."

"Baby is not 'any other old car'!" Dean shouted from the back. You laughed, and pressed on the gas pedal, driving off back down the highway.

_ _ _ _ _

"I don't know, guys," You spoke nervously from where you sat at the table in the motel room you were sharing. "From what I could gather, this group of demons are pretty nasty. A lot more vicious than our usual gig." Dean snorted, finishing the last knot on his right boot before resting his hands on the rather hard bed.

"And? We still got the ol' team, here. We can do this, guys. We always do. We're the good guys, right?" He smiled. "Let's go kick some ass." Standing from his seat, he walked out the door with a grin, Cas obediently following behind him. You sighed as Sam turned to look at you.

"You're not convinced, are you?" He asked. You looked up at him.

"What if things go wrong?" You replied, by way of answer. After a brief moment of silence, Sam took your hands in his, stroking his fingers over the skin of your hands.

"Everything is going to turn out okay. And you know why?" You raised your eyebrows as he made eye contact with you. "Because we have plans after this, right? To stay in bed, and binge. To get married. This case isn't going to get in the way of that."

_ _ _ _ _

A nasty stench of blood, and sweat, and musk, and grime filled the air in the hideout house. Bodies lay askew everywhere on the floor, blood seeping out of every one.

And you were one of them.

You coughed from where you sat against the wall, choking on a vague mix of your own blood and saliva.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God." Sam muttered as he crouched in front of you, covered in sweat, and bruises, and exhaust. Hastily, he brushed your hair away from your face, brushing his thumb against your cheek as he kept muttering fast words under his breath. You coughed, trying hard to push away his touch, but to no avail, due to your weakness.

"Sam, stop." You murmured. "Stop it. I'm fine." He shook his head, desperately racking his brain for something he could do to save you. You were holding a hand over a large slash on your ribs, blood seeping out between your fingers.

"You're not, Y/N. You're not. You're not fine." You hacked another cough.

"I'm fine. What could possibly go wrong?"

"You could die, Y/N." He turned over his shoulder. "Cas!" He called. "Cas, get over here!" At once, the angel was by Sam's side, along with Dean.

"Holy crap." The older Winchester muttered. "What happened to you?"

"Can you heal her?" Sam asked, ignoring his brother's remark. Gently, you felt Cas rest his hand on your cheek, his eyes searching inside your eyes, it seemed. Then, after a second, he pulled away, staring at the floor with an expression of grief on his face.

"I'm sorry, Sam," He apologized, voice husky and slow. "I'm afraid Y/N's gone too far. I can't heal her." This left Sam's head reeling.

"Well - then - then, you can bring her back, right? She can go, and you can bring her back like how you did for Dean, and I!" You interrupted, resting your free hand on Sam's shoulder, trying hard to grip it tightly.

"Oh, no," You spoke, voice hoarse. "You better not bring me back. I die, I stay dead. If you bring me back, Sam, I'll kick your ass. I don't care how tall you are." He pressed his lips tightly together, and now you could see his eyes were starting to become glassier - Sam Winchester was crying. Soothingly, you brushed his hair behind his ear, trying hard to smile.

"Don't cry, please." You begged. He sniffed, a sad look behind his eyes.

"You're dying, Y/N. What else am I supposed to do?" You shrugged, taking on a humorous attitude during the heartbreaking situation.

"Get in the impala with Cas and Dean? Drive away, and completely forget about me? Keep doing the job?" A sob escaped his lips as he shook his head.

"Screw the job." He muttered. "Screw the job, Y/N. It's always been about the damn job. What about us? We have something! We have plans! We're supposed to get married!" You weakly chuckled.

"Call it a marriage in process."

"Dammit, Y/N!" He shouted. "Why can't you be more serious about this?" Dean gripped his shoulder.

"Take it easy on her, man." He murmured quietly. You let a shuddering breath escape your lips as you brushed your fingers along Sam's cheek, running your fingertips over the face you knew so much.

"Tell me, Sam," You began. "How am I supposed to be serious when I'm about to lose the person I love the most?" He remained silent. "I want to make this less painful than it already is." You murmured. You dryly chuckled. "And I'm not just talking about the bleeding gash in my side, either." You were all quiet, the only noise being the speed of your heart, and the occasional sniffle or sob. Finally, Sam reached into his pocket.

"I, uh," He sniffed. "I got you this." He pulled out a cheap golden ring with a giant, plastic diamond in the middle. "I picked it up at the last gas station we stopped at. I was, of course, gonna get you something better - something real. But I just wanted it to be a placeholder for now." You laughed even though it hurt.

"Thank you, Sam." Weakly, you held up your right hand, the one that was covering your wound, bloody, and all. Sam slipped the ring on your finger as gently as possible, his own fingers staining with your blood. And in that moment, you couldn't help but bring the tall man in for a last kiss.

"Go, Sam." You murmured against his lips. He furiously shook his head.

"I can't."

"Please, Sam." You begged. "Go. I don't want you to watch me die." And after quite some hesitation, he brought you in for another kiss. Harsher, and more passionate than the last. You could feel his love, hear the millions of words he wanted to say but couldn't. And all too soon, it was over. He stood, and with one last glance, walked out of the house. You turned to look at Cas and Dean.

"Guys," You murmured. "Take care of yourselves." With a subtle nod, they both stood, and left as well. And as you felt your breathing slow, and the world go dark, you could only think two words.

Sam Winchester. 

The music was loud, and the stench of alcohol was prominent in the small, almost empty bar. A group of young college kids huddled in the corner of the room, playing a round of pool. Two men argued in another corner, and there was no doubt it'd only take a few more beers to start a fist fight. Another man leaned against the wall behind the bar, taking advantage of the lack of customers to scroll through his phone.

But, above all, the strangest thing present - the most special thing present - was a girl. A simple girl sitting at the bar, a bottle of beer between her hands.

Tipping her head back, she took the last drink from the bottle before setting it back on the bar, waving at the bartender with two fingers. He looked up from his phone, eyebrows raised.

"Another one." She simply spoke. And he nodded, turning to grab another bottle of beer before opening the cap. Striding over to her, he placed it in front of her on the counter, lingering with a smirk on his face.

"Do you mind if I ask what you're name is?" He asked flirtily. The girl laughed to herself before taking a sip from the lukewarm beer.

"I'm taken." She responded. He snorted, eyes flicking to the ring on her finger.

"By who? The guy who gave you that?" She nodded gravely, and he laughed. "Cheap man. How much did he pay for it? Fifty cents? I could give you so much more." An angry, hot feeling rose up inside her, going up to her throat before she calmly stood, smiling.

And then, in one swift movement, she grabbed the man by the collar of his shirt, pulling him roughly so he was over the counter. Aiming squarely for his nose, she punched him hard three times, blood seeping from his nostrils as he cried out. Everyone stopped what they were doing, staring in horror at the show. Finally, she let her bloody fist fall to grab her beer, taking a sip while she let the man fall onto the counter with exhaust.

Chugging the rest of the drink, she let it fall to the floor in shattered pieces. The man groaned in pain as she brought her arm up to wipe away the spilled drops of beer on her face.

"Yeah." She finally responded. "It was fifty cents. And it's the best damn thing I own." The man tried to pick himself up, crying out in pain.

"What the hell, lady? Who are you?"And with a grim expression, she let her eyes flash black.

"Y/N."

_ _ _ _ _

It had been months since your death, and Sam was experiencing it horribly. He had stopped talking, and alcohol was his best friend. And it was strange. It was so very strange to see Sam drinking, and exercising, and becoming more violent with a motivation that was bigger than ever. It was all so strange.

Dean had tried helping him, but stopped the second time Sam lashed out on him, knowing how much it must've hurt him to be there for you moments before your death. Cas visited more often, and each time, he tried greeting Sam to gain interaction from him, but every time he received a grumble, or a sob, or silence.

There was no helping him because Sam could still clearly recall what had happened right after they were all out of the building.

_ _ _ _ _

The sun was blaring and hot against Sam's face when he walked out of the house, the tears on his face sticky and salty and wet. His sobbing was loud as he cried out at God, cursing him out and shouting with loud sobs at the nonexistent being.

He almost collapsed when he felt his older brother grab his shoulders, holding him against his chest. And Sam cried loud, clutching to his brother's shirt like he was going to lose him, too. And suddenly, a blaring noise filled his ears as the house burst into flames, exploding.

Covering his ears, Sam watched through watery eyes as bits and pieces of the house flew, flames engulfing and swallowing anything it could, licking its greedy way through the shrubs and pieces of wood.

"Y/N!" Sam called out, his heart wrenching in his chest. He was about to run into the flames, but Dean was already holding him back, trying hard to whisper soothingly into his ear.

"She's gone, Sam." He murmured, tears threatening his own eyes. "There's no way she could've survived something like that. I'm sorry, Sam. I'm so sorry."

_ _ _ _ _

A few weeks later, Sam and Dean were coming back from a hunt. This one had been particularly nasty, and Sam had gotten particularly violent, stabbing the demon over and over, even after its death. They said nothing on the ride home to each other, not wanting to start another fight. Dean yawned, and checked his watch for the time.

3:47.

"You mind if we stop at a motel?" Dean asked. "I think there's one at the next exit." Sam shrugged, and Dean took this as his cue to remain silent, taking the next exit with no words.

Later, when they arrived at the motel, and Dean had checked them in, he went back outside to tell his brother. But Sam was frowning and zoning out, and he knew he wouldn't stay tonight.

"Come on, man. I got us a double queen. We got heating, and color TV!" Sam looked up to his smiling face, shurgging.

"Maybe later. Do you mind if I take the impala out for tonight? I think I'm gonna look for a bar somewhere." Dean sighed, pressing his lips tightly together before pulling his keys out of his pocket, handing them to him.

"Take care of her."

"I know."

"And take care of yourself." And now, Sam hesitated, stopping in his tracks when he was halfway to the impala. Turning his head over his shoulder, he nodded.

"Yeah." And with that, he quickly got into the impala, driving away with Dean watching him, a sad expression on his face.

_ _ _ _ _

The bar was small, and stuffy. It was practically empty, and the air was hot and moist, but it was the only bar miles around. Sam took a look around, and surveyed the place.

Two old, biker men played cards with each other at a table. A single girl played pool in the back of the room by herself. And finally, a bartender stood behind the counter too stiffly, staring at the girl. His nose was purple, and his lip was slightly swollen.

Sam strided to the counter, and dropped the keys into the pocket of his jacket.

"Somethin' strong." He called out to the bartender, and it took him a couple seconds to comprehend what he was saying before nervously preparing the drink. But soon enough, the drink was placed in front of him, and Sam couldn't help his curiosity as he held the warm alcohol.

"Hey, man, you okay? You look a little jumpy." The bartender flicked his eyes to the girl, and then back to Sam.

"I'm fine." He rushed before pulling away. Sam turned around to the girl he looked at, curious as to why he was so nervous. And his heart stopped for a millisecond at the sight. She looked familiar, that was sure. But he wasn't going to admit what he was thinking.

Turning back around, he downed his drink in one go, trying to keep his mind off the girl in the back, and bad memories of the girl she reminded him of. But as hard as he tried, he couldn't help but let his mind wander back to the one thing he was always thinking of. The one thing that actually mattered.

You.

Suddenly standing from his seat, he took a sharp turn, taking long strides to the back of the room, a large urge in the center of his heart to know. He just wanted to know. Finally reaching the girl, he placed his hand on her shoulder, spinning her around, and almost collapsed on the spot.

"Y/N?" The simple word slipped from his lips with a sad tone.

"Sam." You breathed out, the hundreds of words from your vocabulary suddenly gone. His eyes became glassy, and he was beginning to cry, his lips twitching up to form a sad smile. And, involuntarily, in a panicked move, you accidentally allowed your eyes to flash to their black color. Sam's own eyes widened, and he stumbled over his feet as he tried to step back.

"Y/N?" He asked, more concerned this time. "What the hell? You're a demon!" He shouted. The black in your eyes melted away to reveal their original color, and you gently grabbed his arm, warily looking around.

"Come on, Sam. Let's go talk about this somewhere else." You murmured, feeling the eyes of the people on you. You led him out the door, and once the heavy wood of it had shut closed, he immediately lashed out on you.

"Where were you? Where were you, Y/N? I saw that house explode! What happened?" You twisted the ring around your finger, a sigh escaping your lips.

"After you left... Crowley paid me a visit. I was already dying, and he told me... He told me I had an important role to play in the life of the Winchesters, and I couldn't die. So he put a demon in me to fix me up and heal me, and took me out. He exploded the house to throw away the evidence." Sam's brows furrowed at this.

"Why didn't you come? Why didn't you come, and look for me?" You shook your head.

"It would've been too painful."

"I could've handled it!" And now, you looked up at him, making eye contact for the first time, letting your arms fall to your sides.

"It would've been too painful for me." He remained silent, running his hand over his face before staring at you. And swiftly, he scooped you up in his arms, holding you against his chest as he buried his nose in your hair.

"I missed you." He murmured, voice cracking. You nodded, feeling a tear drop fall onto your hand. You hadn't even realized you'd been crying. Tightly clutching his jacket, you loudly gasped for air, sobbing into his shoulder.

"I missed you more." You cried out. Pulling away, he held your face in his hands, brushing away the tears on your face with his thumb before bringing you in for a kiss. The loss of time and love fell into the hot feeling of your lips on his. You could feel every crevice you'd remembered, felt every piece of skin you'd memorized, and there was no denying you were happy to be back.

"Just a couple more months." You whispered after pulling away. "Just a couple more months 'til this demon's out of me." He nodded.

"We'll go through it together." You could feel Sam's fingers grazing the skin of your hands, and they brushed over your cheap ring. "God, I love you." He mumbled.

"I love you."