Don't Fear the Reaper

A Hard Conversation

"Let me guess, Crowley told you." You grumbled as you stepped back, knowing he wouldn't leave until he had the chance to talk to you. "Didn't take you very long."

"We were close by, dropped everything as soon as he called." Sam explained, his eyes searching over you, trying to take in all of you. "It's been so long, I never thought I'd see you again." 

Watching as his arms moved forward, like he was going to pull him to you, you stepped back, out of his reach. Not missing the way his face fell, or the way his hands dropped lifelessly at his side. "Where's Dean?"

"At the diner, giving us some privacy." Sam answered, his forehead wrinkled in confusion. You were willing to bet he was expecting you to jump in his arms, to be overjoyed at seeing him again. And while it did make your heart flutter, you didn't want to open that part of yourself again. You liked the way you were, with no emotions or feelings clouding your judgement. And your judgment was telling you that getting back together with Sam was going to lead to nothing but pain. 

"Well, thanks for stopping by, but as you can see I was about ready to get in the shower." You told him, gesturing to your towel clad body.

Instead of leaving the room like you hoped, Sam sat down on the bed, grabbing the TV remote. "Didn't you hear me?" You asked him, and he looked up at you with those hazel eyes that were still trying to draw you in.

"Yeah, I heard you. Figured I'd watch TV until you were done." He insisted. With a sigh, you left him sitting there, wanting to get clean for the first time in months. Slipping into the shower, you forgot about the fact that Sam was out there, waiting for you to renew your love for him. To get back together and make everything as it had been. Instead you concentrated on the feeling of the warm water sliding over your skin, washing away months of built up dirt and grime that you hadn't been able to rinse off in your rare trips to the creek in Purgatory. Washing away blood from all sorts of monsters, including some of your own. There were new scars covering your skin, some jagged and angry while others were just white lines. Your healing skills hadn't worked in Purgatory, but truthfully, you didn't mind. Each scar was a prize won in battle, showcasing that you had fought to live just one more day. 

Taking your time in the shower, you had the fleeting hope that Sam would give up and leave, but you knew that wouldn't be the case. Sam was too kind, too considerate to leave as soon as he had found you again. Sighing, you shut the water off, sliding the towel around you once again. The bathroom door was slightly open, a new outfit sitting on the counter. It was nothing fancy, just a pair of sweatpants, along with a plain white t-shirt, but it felt nice to be in something different. Something that wasn't stiff and stained with so many different things. 

Grabbing the brush that had been left for you, you made your way back into the main room, seeing Sam sitting at the table, looking down at his phone. A plate with a sandwich, along with a glass of milk and a cookie were placed on the table, and you knew they were from the kind, older lady. 

"Hi." Sam said, sitting his phone down and giving you a dazzling smile. Saying nothing in return, you moved to the food, picking up the sandwich. In Purgatory, you had never grown hungry, or thirsty, and you looked at the sandwich with interest. Would you be hungry? Or would food taste like nothing? Taking a small bite, you thought you had tasted nothing finer. Forgetting that Sam was there, watching you, you finished off the sandwich in a couple of bites, moving on to the glass of milk. Within minutes the meal was gone, including the delicious chocolate chip cookie. 

"Must have tasted good after....Crowley said you were in Purgatory." Sam finally spoke as you sat down at the table.

"It did. I had forgotten how good food tasted." You told him. "And yes, I was in Purgatory."

Sam seemed like he wanted to reach over, to grasp your hand in his, but he stopped himself. "For us, Purgatory had just been a myth, not even sure if it really existed. But Crowley told us what it was like. I'm so sorry you had to spend months there."

"I had a friend. His name was Benny, he was a Vampire. He taught me how to protect myself. I just wish he could have come with me." You said softly, missing the look of jealousy that crossed Sam's face. 

"All that matters is you're back where you belong. I've missed you so much. Dean has too." Sam promised you, as you tilted your gaze to the table, and not those eyes you had missed so much at first.

"Sam, about that." You started, just as a knock sounded on your door. Sam stood up, opening it without a glance, and Dean pushing his way inside.

"Y/N!" Dean exclaimed, rushing forward to give you a hug. Frowning when you stepped back, away from him. 

Pointing to the table, you let him sit down, before you began the hardest task you had ever thought about doing. "Sam, Dean, I think we need to talk."

"Do I need to come back?" Dean offered, hearing the serious tone of your voice, looking between you and his brother, wondering what was going on. You knew he had thought he would be walking into a celebration, not an awkward and tense scene.

"Y/N, I know you're still reeling from being back. But it will all be okay." Sam assured you, and you could tell be the set in his shoulders he already knew your talk would hurt him. You didn't want to hurt him, but you also didn't want yourself hurt. And you were afraid if you went back to him, that would happen. It might take a while, but being with Sam Winchester was like walking around with a live grenade in your pocket. Always the possibility of it blowing up. 

Pacing the small room, you tried to think of the right words to say. It was surprisingly harder than you thought it would be. "Sam, you were the first person I truly loved. Even before I met you, I think I loved you."

He smiled at that, relaxing a little at your mention of love. "We had some good times, even when the world was out to get us, which was a lot."

"That only made our love stronger." He insisted, which was probably true.

"But I cant' do it again." You told him, watching as his eyes widened in confusion. "In Purgatory, there was no room for emotions, or feeling. There was just survival, and pure instinct. And I liked that. Knowing I didn't have to worry about you, or how things could hurt you, it was freeing."

"Y/N, what are you saying?" He whispered softly, looking like a kicked puppy. Dean was just sitting there, taking in your conversation, his eyes dark and guarded.

"I'm saying I can't do this anymore. I can't be with you, because it brings all these emotions I don't want to have anymore. I'm sorry Sam, but we're over."