Supernatural Oneshots | ✓

Terrible Things {Sam}

Prompt inspiration: http://writeworld.org/post/137949930260/the-bookshelf-contained-many-hollowed-out-books

Prompt: The bookshelf contained many hollowed out books that concealed secret treasures.

Summary/prompt change: Arguing with Sam Winchester was something you could handle. Finding that he not only had destroyed a book, but used it to hide some sentimental things? Well, that was something you weren't prepared for.

Warnings: Sam destroys some books. intentionally. (I think that deserves a warning because it's the sin to end all sins). Parent death. Swearing (as usual, because it's me and I swear way too much lol). Sad things.

Pairing(s): none

"Y/N," Sam said, glancing up from the map in his lap to meet your eye in the rearview mirror.

"Hm?"

"Do me a favor? Grab the book from the top of my bag and search for some information on buruburus. We're going to need it for this hunt."

"Sam, I still think it's an Acheri demon." You sighed, unzipping the bag on the floor near your feet. "It manifests in the form of a young girl."

"A girl that died a violent and fearful death." Sam said. "There's also evidence of ghost sickness spreading in the area."

"I've encountered a demon or two like this before, Sam." You said, struggling to keep your irritation in check. You and Sam had been having this argument on and off for the past two days. "Sometimes they take the form of previously murdered girls in the area so that the parents are accepting of it being around. They're not stupid."

He turned in his seat. "Then why are there three cases of what appears to be ghost sickness?"

"Who are the three confirmed cases? The girl's mother, her best friend, and someone else, right? Maybe a sibling, maybe an aunt or a cousin. Right?" Sam nodded. "Exactly. This demon is playing with them. It's always the people that knew. The symptoms appear to be ghost sickness, but they aren't. The demon starts appearing in dark halls and rooms, in mirrors, in nightmares. Then the injuries inflicted on the girl in life start to appear. Then they start to be inflicted by the demon. The fear seems irrational to everyone else, and then the demon throws in a heart attack." You snatched the book from the back. "It's one demon that does this. I've been hunting the little bitch for ages."

Dean and Sam exchanged a look in the front seat. "Didn't you say your mom died of a heart attack?"

"Demon-inflicted, yes." You said. "My aunt was abused by her friend when she was younger. Her best friend, my mom, and my other aunt knew. She died a few years before my mom, and then suddenly my mom started seeing her everywhere, but only the younger version of her. I watched it progress. My dad thought she was crazy, tried to get a divorce and get custody of me. Then, one day while he was at work...I had off school that day, and my mom was making me lunch. Then she just kind of fell over, clutching at her chest. She died on the kitchen floor, was dead before the ambulance got there." You shook your head. "They said it was a heart attack. I always found it odd that my other aunt and my mom's best friend died at the exact same time in the exact same way."

Dean and Sam were silent for a while. "How old were you?" Dean asked.

"Not as young as you were when you guys lost your mom." You said. "I was, I don't know, eleven? Twelve? I don't know. Somewhere around there. That was when I got into hunting, started doing my research. When I was eighteen, I left home and didn't look back. Been hunting ever since." Your eyes met Sam's in the rearview mirror. "It's not a buruburu. It's that fucking demon." You flipped open the book in your hands, eyes falling to a hole cut out of the pages. "Um, Sam? There's a big hole in this book." You lifted your eyes to the back of his head. "And there's a locket in it?" There was also a velvety ring box in it.

The book was snatched from your hands. "Ignore that. Wrong book."

"What's next? Your diary?" You pulled another leather-bound book from the bag and flipped it open. This one was filled with dates and neat notes in black ink. "Yep. Diary."

Dean laughed as Sam pulled that one from your hands too. "Maybe you should find a better place for your secret books, Sammy."

"Shut up, Dean." He grumbled.

"Whose necklace was that?" You asked. "In the first book."

"My mom's." He said.

"And the box in there?"

He stiffened a little. "No one's."

"Someone's."

"No." Sam said. "Doesn't matter. Stop asking."

And then it hit you. "That was the ring, wasn't it?" You asked. "The one you were going to propose with." Sam said nothing. "Can I see it?"

You were surprised when he silently passed you the book. You found more little things hidden in it–a folded scrap of paper, a picture, a necklace, a thick steel ring. Mary Winchester's silver necklace with the heart-shaped pendant. There was a glittering blue jewel in the center of it, a sapphire, you thought. You picked up the ring box and opened it slowly.

It was a thin, silver band inlaid with diamonds. In the center was a pretty big diamond, in the shape of a square, bordered by smaller diamonds. It was breathtaking. "Sam Winchester, you are every girl's dream." You carefully shut the box once more and placed it back in the book, passing it back into Sam's waiting hand.

"What about me?" Dean pouted.

"You're every girl's fantasy, Dean." You giggled. "But seriously, Sam. Who knew you were a romantic?"

"It's just a ring." He sunk lower in his seat.

"It's a gorgeous engagement ring." You said. "And you have your mother's locket, and a bunch of other things hiding in a book. Sam Winchester, you are the most adorable person on the planet." You silently wished that you could find someone like Sam–he loved so much and so fiercely it threatened to swallow him whole. You wondered how it hadn't already. "Seriously, Sam. She was lucky to have you."

The car was silent, the radio providing quiet background noise to save you from that all-encompasing silence you hated. The song playing was some Eagles song that your dad had overplayed when you were younger (this was probably intentional, because Dean knew how much you couldn't stand the Eagles and played them constantly just to piss you off, because Dean Winchester was a shithead). Surprisingly, the music didn't make you homesick like it probably should have.

Sam put in a tape once the song ended, and the familiar notes spilling from a piano echoed through the car. Dean Winchester had perfected the lost art of making actual mix tapes (with cassette tapes and everything), and you occasionally found him making tapes for car rides like he was ten. This one, you knew, had Y/N's Shitty Music written on it in messy, smudged scrawl.

"Mayday Parade?" You mused. "Sam, I'm impressed."

You saw him roll his eyes. "Shut up, Y/N." He was smiling.

You leaned back in the seat, closing your eyes. And somehow, for some reason, when you listened to the song, you heard echoes of the Winchester brothers in the lyrics.