Sam Winchester x Reader: Together (A Supernatural Fanfic)

Chapter 12: Tell Me More

"And you see those stars there, Y/N? I will name those stars after you."
I giggle, and my father crinkles his eyes up, smiling strongly.
"Daddy, how many stars are there?"
I ask, pointing to the dark night sky.
"How many stars do you think there are sweetie?"
"OH! A million billion trillion!"
My father kisses my forehead, and looks up again.
"You're right, Y/N. There are a million billion trillion stars."
He laughs heartily, and I giggle again, along with him. The galaxy unfolds before us over hours, and I find myself falling asleep against a gnarled birch.
---
"Y/N? You up?"
My eyes flutter open to the sound of a deep voice. I look up to see Sam placing me down on the bed in the room I took. He speaks to me tenderly, moving the hair away from my mouth. I smile, letting him do so.
"Yeah, I guess. What time is it?"
He helps me sit up against the headboard, but then stuffs a fluffy pillow behind my head.
"Almost two in the morning. You should really go back to sleep."
"Aw, sleep is for the weak!"
I attempt to slide my feet off the bed and stand up, hoping to go for a walk. Sam only presses me back onto the pillow.
"Just go back to sleep. You need to heal and you seemed like you were having a good dream."
He was telling the truth, sadly. I let out a puff of hot air.
"Look, Sam. I really need to tell you something."
He sits closer to me, furrowing his brow.
"Yeah? What's wrong?"
He seems so concerned, and I decide to avoid telling him what I planned to.
"My life... Wasn't always really bad."
He looks at me more confused than concerned now.
"What do you mean?"
"Well... When I was really young, my dad was around a LOT. He took care of me the best he could. We would bond, even though I was probably the second favourite."
"Second?"
"I have a few siblings, and I'm pretty sure he preferred my older brother over me in quite a few places. But when times got rough, he came and played with me, taught me things. Eventually, his... Erm... Work started taking more and more of his time. He didn't interact with me much at all. And eventually, we didn't see him for months. He stopped caring for us. He wouldn't take me to see the stars."
I can almost hear Sam's heart shatter to pieces.
"Where is your mom in all of this?"
I contemplate my answer.
"Things were really complicated in that department."
He nods, laying next to me.
"Y'know, my life was kinda crappy for as long as I can remember. Then again, it may have been good way to raise me. I'm not really sure."
I acknowledge his words with a quiet, 'why'.
"Well, my mom, she was killed by a really powerful demon when I was only a couple months old. She... She burned on the ceiling of my nursery. My dad made Dean carry me out of the house and eventually he came out too. I think after all that he sort of panicked and raised us up as hunters, like my mom was. He was really strict all the time, and pretty much treated Dean like his own personal soldier."
"Why do you say was?"
I ask, now laying on my side to face him. He rolls over to look at me too.
"He died. Long time ago, though."
"I'm so sorry for your losses. You never even got to meet your mom."
"It's fine, I got to see her a few years ago actually. She was really kind."
He takes my stunned silence as an answer.
"It's weird. A lot of stuff dealing with time itself went down and... It's a story for another time."
I speak in a clearly hushed voice now, hearing Dean bustle around somewhere in the bunker.
"Can you tell me more?"
"My childhood was essentially switching schools every week, just barely making a friend, and hiding in motel rooms, hoping that my dad comes back alive and in less than ten pieces. It wasn't very luxurious. What did you do after your dad stopped showing up?"
Sam has also lowered his voice now, and Dean has left whatever he was doing alone. Barely audible knocking sounds come from down the hall, and I can sense that Sam and I both assume that he is now getting ready for bed.
"I became a bit of a loner. I wasn't much like the rest of my family, I liked making things. Especially dinosaurs. I had a weird obsession with them."
The man in front of me grins, and a few strands of hair fall into his eyes.
"I thought dinosaurs were alright too. I never really knew much about them though."
"I could teach you some things sometime if you'd like. I don't know if you still like them, or if I even remember anything."
I chuckle with Sam.
"Alright, let's do it. Dinosaurs 101 with Y/N. Right now."
"Wait, what? Seriously?"
We smile, shifting so we're more comfortable on the small bed.
"Yeah, seriously. Tell me about dinosaurs."
"Oh, um, okay-"
I pause to think of something.
"Well, out of all the dinosaurs, the Utah raptor has been named the most fierce. But there was something a lot more mean than them."
"Really? How do you know?"
"I just think that it's really improbable that people have already found the meanest dinosaur out of every type already. There's bound to be something more vicious. There has to be."
"I think you may be right. It doesn't seem possible that we've already found that certain din-"
He stops speaking, and shifts next to me, listening to me giggle.
"What's so funny?"
"I just realized we're two adults literally contemplating dinosaurs at two in the morning when we should be asleep."
"Oh. Wow, we are... Wow."
I soon stop the distraction. The room goes quiet for a moment until Sam speaks up.
"What's your favourite colour?"
"Are you serious?"
"What? I feel like I should know these things if you're moving into our bunker."
His hair still sits in front of his eyes, and he seems to just now understand that he should fix it. He does so painstakingly slow.
"Tell me your favourite colour, come on."
"Fine, it's F/C."
"Awesome. Cool. That's all I need."
"Great..."
"Except for one more thing. Which hand do you write with?"
I turn away to write in the air with my fingers.
"You need to check?"
He teases. I turn back towards him blushing.
"Yes, now shut up."
"..."
"I use my D/H by the way."
"Thank you, this is really helpful."
He mimics my writing, except on an invisible notepad.
"Why exactly is it helpful..?"
"I barely know anything about you. Just trying to get the basics."
He gives me a groggy thumbs up before flipping onto his back. For the first time I notice a watch on his wrist.
3:00am
I stare at a blank space on the wall, and then glance back at Sam. His eyes seem to struggle to stay open. He looks very tired, and he soon yawns, rubbing his eyes.
"I should get to my room..."
"No, it's fine. You can sleep here. I'll just take a comfy chair in the library." I finally get up off of the bed and put the pillow under Sam's head.
He yawns again, fixing his blue flannel and moving to get up.
"I can't make you do that..."
I walk to his side of the bed and perform the same move he did earlier.
"You're too tired. I can sleep in the library. Goodnight."
He doesn't even reply to me, he only closes his eyes fully. I tiptoe out of the room and into the darkness. Eventually I find my way to the books and I pull a few out, and turn on a lamp at one of the tables. Little does Sam know, I won't be sleeping at all tonight. I don't feel willing to take my chance in the dream lottery. Besides, I'm too awake to even attempt sleeping, so I might as well be productive and learn a bit. I flip to the first page of a book made of approximately 500 pages total prepared to begin my journey of knowledge.