Born Under a Bad Sign // Supernatural

one

Born Under a Bad Sign: one

His first memory of life was a bloody man begging for his life, on his knees with dirty clothing and blood coated teeth. He looked at Sam like the little boy was this man's life line, Sam never understood why. Sam held Dean's hand, looking at this man, he felt no alarm or fear. He can never really remember feeling fear.

"P-Please." The man had begged, "Don't do this."

Sam had looked at him, then his eyes began to droop and his eight year old brother pulled him up into his arms, which was hard for him but he did it anyway. Dean started walking away, Sam rests his head on his brother's shoulder and watches the bloody man look at him with horror filled eyes.

His father came up behind him and there was even more blood, Sam gave out a little sigh and slowly dozed off to sleep.

Sam was ten when he killed for the first time, he'd watched his father do so many times before and Dean a few. He'd watched blood run from their hands, he watch the life fade from a victims eyes and he wondered, briefly if there was a reason behind the death. When he'd asked his father, he was struck across the cheek.

Dean held his crying and confused form for hours, whispering soft word to his distraught brother. Sam didn't understand why his father had responded as such but he learnt to not question him, and he never did again. But sometimes, he saw Dean with a funny look in his eyes and he wondered.

They always traveled a lot, Sam didn't really understand why, he just knew that they'd go someone, he might see his father or Dean killing someone or it'd be mentioned then they'd be off again. Sometimes, they stayed for a while, the longest so far being just under six months. Those days Dean enrolled Sam into a school and even went along himself even if it was just to hook up with girls and sometimes boys (though Dean liked to pretend that didn't happen).

Sam stood before the class in a small school, somewhere in Mississippi but he hardly took notice. The teacher introduced him to the class, a tall woman with greying brown hair. He forgot her name the second she said it, when she asked if there was anything he wanted to say to the class, he stares at a poster at the back of the class until she awkwardly directs him to a seat. Sam can feel the stares on him, he sits in one of the middle rows with a single note book and pencil in front of him. He listens to everything the teacher says with a blank mind, when the bell goes he remembers nothing and hears only the whispers around him.

When lunch had rolled around, he still hadn't spoken a word. The robotic like school ran around him and Sam held so little interest in it, it was almost comical. The high school where Dean was currently enrolled in was just around the corner, Dean was nearing fifteen at that time and yet he was such an angry regret already, Sam sometimes wondered if he'd end up like Dean. Though Dean talked a lot, his anger lead to sarcasm and snarky comments, he liked to yell at their father and grew irritable with teachers rather quickly. Sam...Well he preferred to stay quiet, not many things interested him enough to react to it.

When he was in the lunch line a tall boy who talked funny, like he was chewing gravel stalked over to him. He looked about eleven. Sam stares blankly at him, he was talking but Sam wasn't listening.

"Alistair." Was what the boy said his name was, he left soon after, Sam didn't really know why nor did he care.

Two days later he was to Dean's school, the school was vacant but he could music playing from his father's Impala, the sleek black beauty sitting in front of him by the curb. Alistair was suddenly in his face, Sam pouts and looks at the boy.

He was talking again but Sam was hungry and he was sure there was some old pizza in the motel fridge where they were staying. Alistair stopped talking for a second then smiles at him, it's a sinister looks and Sam wishes he would go away. He feels something cool from inside his jacket pocket as his fingers curl around it.

"-so yeah, if you want to hang out any t-..." He falters in his continuous talking, Sam frowns and sees the blood pouring from the boy's mouth, there was a warm liquid covering Sam's hand and Dean was at his side, a tight grip on his shoulder.

"Why did you go that?" Dean asks him, a funny tone to his voice....horror? He's not asking though, he's yelling and there's a fear in his eyes. Sam looks up at him, pulling the knife from Alistair's chest.

"He was talking too much." Sam blinks up at his brother, a small pout forming on his lips.

"Son of bitch." Dean swears, he glances around then pulls a bloody Sam towards the car.

Sam curls up in the back as John Winchester pulls away from the curb with a screech of tires, his father's swearing and yelling, Dean is too, they're words could be directed at Sam but he doesn't really know, he hardly takes them in.

He hears a scream, a faint one in the wind, he sees the blood on his hands and the darkened pocket knife.

And feels nothing.

I don't even know, sorry? I know what's going to happen...ish but until then, I'm just going to be weird and do whatever I feel like. Still trying to figure out how I'm going to portray Sam :) I hope you enjoyed it though!

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, all characters and themes belong to the correct owners, this is merely a work of fanfiction.

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Love Percy xx