Supernatural Oneshots | ✓

Destruction {Winchesters/Sam}

Prompt inspiration: 642 Tiny Things to Write About by The San Francisco Writers' Grotto

Prompt: Consider your oldest friendship. Describe how you could destroy it in five minutes.

Summary/prompt change: When you were younger, you didn't realize what a stupid game with a Ouija board would do. You certainly didn't expect it to lead to you nearly sacrificing your first love.

When you were sixteen, you met a boy.

Now, you'd met plenty of boys in your time. You'd met tall ones and short ones, dark ones and light ones, "normal" ones and "strange" ones. But Samuel Carter was the one that you would remember forever.

He was sixteen at the time you met him. He was actually nearly seventeen, but you didn't know that until he told you the secret. If anyone called him anything other than Sam, he would very loudly protest the name or nickname. He was awkwardly tall and lanky, very shy, and very smart.

You'd been hearing whispers about the new boys, two brothers, since the previous week when someone had seen them moving in. Of the weird things happening in your small town, two attractive guys starting school was the most normal.

The older boy, Daniel Carter, automatically fit the bad boy stereotype your school lacked–he was tall, dressed in muted colors, always wore a leather jacket, drove a black vintage car, and he had a Devil-may-care attitude. He was silent, stoic, and had killer eyes. Daniel was a senior, so you had no classes with him.

Sam, on the other hand, was a sophomore. He was in only a few of your classes–Honors English, Honors Chemistry, and AP European History. A lot of others were already drooling over him and had already greeted him by the time he was sat next to you in Chem, the last class that you would have with him in the day.

He ended up being a sweet guy, and you became fast friends...until he kissed you. You never dated, and his brother didn't know, but whatever you had with Sam felt like you didn't need to be official.

Then you found out why he didn't want to date you. He told you the whole thing–that his mother died, that his family was constantly moving, that his real name was Winchester. Sam Winchester. And Daniel? His name was actually Dean. Oh, and they went around the country hunting ghosts and other odd paranormal things, and they'd come to your town to hunt down a local legend.

You'd believed him, because it was Sam, and Sam didn't lie. And you were heartbroken when he left.

Around six months after Sam had left, your friend turned sixteen. She had a party, some people convinced some alcohol into you, and the next thing you knew, you were sitting on the floor in a dark room with a Ouija board in front of you.

The next day, you had a demon problem.

It had been many years since the demon had decided that it needed a human to help and to occasionally possess. You'd done some awful things. The worst was what you were doing at that moment.

Dean and Sam Winchester were tied up. Literally. They were beaten, bloody, and unconscious, tied up to prevent escape. They were unconscious, but you knew that they would awaken soon.

Sure enough, you heard them begin to stir. When you turned, the brothers looked at you in the way people looked at past acquaintances they couldn't quite place. You weren't going to lie and say that it was a little disorienting.

Remember, a voice whispered, you have five minutes to destroy them before I take over.

You flashed a disarming smile. "Sam Winchester," you said, starting towards him. "My, my, has it been years since I've seen you." This was not you, not the quiet girl that sat in the same class as Sam, not ten inches away from him. This was the girl that the demon had created–the cruel, uncaring heartbreaker.

"And you are?" This came from Dean. Sam was silent, eyes scanning you like he knew he should know who you are.

You mockingly gaped at him. "You don't remember? Shame on you!" You turned to Sam. "You know, Sammy, you'd think you'd remember me, since I was your first kiss and all."

You had to give Sam credit for not flinching or showing his surprise, though you could feel it radiating off of him in waves. "Y/N Y/L/N." He said calmly. "I thought you died."

"Went missing, actually." You picked at the polish on your nails. "Funny how these things work, right? You go missing, and after a while, people stop looking and decide your fate for you. I noticed that you never bothered to look." You shrugged. "Don't worry, I won't take it personally. You were all wrapped up in that pretty girl from Stanford. What was her name? Jess? Sorry about her, by the way. What a shame." You shook your head.

"What are you doing, Y/N?" Sam asked. "You're playing an angle. I'm not stupid."

"I've got to give you credit, Sammy." You said. "You've certainly grown and evolved. You were never this straightforward." You smiled cruelly. "You'd think you'd been kidnapped enough times to understand the motives behind it by now."

"You're going to kill us." Dean guessed.

"Wrong." You said. "I'm going to sacrifice you. Now, I could go through the whole clichéd villain rant about how I became the way I am and what inspired my evil plot, but considering the older Winchester thinks he's slick and is trying to cut through his ropes, not to mention my Master grows weary of this conversation and wants to be unleashed, I'm going to cut this short." You walked over to Dean and plucked the knife from his fingers. "Nice try, Winchester. Sam, I know you have that switchblade in your sleeve. Don't even try it." You went to disarm him as well.

Dean leaned as far forward as he could to look at Sam. "Really, dude? Do you always have to date the crazy demon chicks?"

"First of all," you said, "Meg was possessed. I'm doing this of my own accord." Lies. You started towards the altar, which had several weapons sitting on it, ready for use. "Second of all, we never dated. And finally, I wasn't like this when I met Sam. I was perfectly normal. This all started about...oh, I don't know...six months after you left?"

"That's reassuring." Dean grumbled.

"Oh, don't twist your panties into knots, Winchester." You picked up a wicked-looking blade, examining it in the light of the candles. You could feel the demon pushing, urging you to let it take over before your five minutes were up. You didn't want to turn around, to see the faces of the Winchester brothers. You didn't want to see the betrayal that would be in Sam's eyes.

You let it sink over you like a chill. You could feel it twisting, writhing, stretching. You could feel every muscle in your body, every cell. Your eyes burned as they changed, the whites and the irises blacking out. Your lips curved into a dark grin, but it wasn't you that was smiling. "This won't hurt for too long."