Gemini (Supernatural Rewrite Sam x Reader x Dean)

In My Time of Dying

A/N: Sorry for the plot heavy chapters. The good stuff is coming back, I promise! Thank you for all the comments and love. I'm so excited for S2!

"SAM!"

He can hear her screaming voice repeating inside his head. Over, and over. It is like a broken record that he can't get out of his mind. And it never fails to send a chill of regret shivering down his spine when he hears it. He should have known something like this was going to happen. Visions of strangers, but not the woman he loved?

The footsteps are coming closer now, gravel  crunching under boots as the driver of the semi makes his way over towards the impala. Sam waits and prepares himself for what faces him. Homicidal truck driver, likely possessed or worse.

His eyes open when he hears the sounds of metal ripping and the car door being dropped to the ground. He wastes no time in positioning his head up as he points the barrel of the gun at the stranger. In front of him stands the truck driver; an old man with black eyes.

"Get back or I'll kill you. I swear to God." Sam threatens. Everyone he loves is in this car, of course he means it.

"You won't." The demon remarks with confidence in his voice, like he is seconds away from taking the colt out of Sam's hands. The demon would have to pry it out of the younger Winchester's cold, dead hands. "You're saving that bullet for someone else."

With his one good hand, Sam cocks the gun back and positions the barrel. "You want to bet?"

The demon smirks at the man for a few seconds, but it's not long before the thing decides that Sam isn't bluffing. Soon after the smoke clears, the driver drops towards his knees, the pain of the crash beginning to set in. Sam lets out a sigh of relief, dropping the gun towards his lap as he finally lets his head rest back on the seat.

"Oh, my God." Sam can hear the old man beginning to realize his actions. His voice is cracking, almost like he is on the verge of tears. "Did I do this?"

"Dad," Sam croaks out, he turns his head to see his father passed out in the seat next to him, all bloody and bruised. "Dad," Sam tries again to get the man to wake, but John shows no signs of life. He looks over his other shoulder to see if his brother is in a better position than their father. To his dismay, he sees Dean leaning over in his seat, looking worse than his father. "Dean," He calls out. But still, Dean doesn't move. This can't be happening.

"Violet, baby?" He nearly sobs out. Sam turns his head to see if you are awake like he had hoped. But you aren't moving either. You aren't even breathing. "Violet!"

-

"'While seeking revenge make sure to dig two graves. One for the enemy,'" A voice echoes inside your mind, but it sounds far away, like they are standing in the next room. You squint your eyes, trying to figure out what was going on. What happened? You fidget around in what feels to be a bed, you roll to your side and open one eye, but both of them widen immediately at what you see.

It can't be. You had seen him in so many different photographs and home videos you had watched in secrecy for years. And here he is, in the flesh. You blink a few times, not sure if any of this is real.

"'And one for yourself.' She was quite the writer, wasn't she?"

He is sitting in a chair placed just beside your bed, dressed in the flannel shirt, the same exact one you had worn to bed right before he passed away. Your mother's journal resting in his lap, parted halfway down with his hand resting in the middle, acting as a wedge to keep it open. His wedding band catches the fluorescent light when he shifts around his hands so he can close the journal. It's just another nightmare. Or maybe you're dead. Both? Maybe both.