Pardon

Sam

I should've known right from the start. I knew my relationship with Wes wasn't right. It isn't right. I could've had the out. He seemed odd from the moment I sat across from him in the booth at the restaurant so long ago. But being the naive Sam Winchester I am, I let it continue. We had a few more dates, and on our fifth, I knew there would be no escaping this man. I became fearfully in love. I thought he was my other half and that we were perfect together. Of course, you shouldn't trust a seemingly perfect person, should you?

People always told me that I was smart. If only they knew what I had gotten myself into.

"Hey... Um... Wes?" I ask.

"The hell you want now?" Wes shouts.

"I would like to go on a walk, maybe go to the bar and think about things," I say honestly.

"I'm kinda busy right now," he says flatly.

"Of course. Which is great because I was wondering if maybe I could go by myself... Alone?"

Wes scoffs and turns to look at me directly, rather than his eyes being glued to the football game. "No way. Go read or some shit. What do you even need to think about?"

He ponders something for a minute and then asks in an upset tone, "Not us, right?"

I remain silent and scratch nervously at my neck. "Not us... right, Samuel?"

"Of course not." I release a shaky breath.

"Why can't you just go think about it in our room or something?" Wes suggests.

"Fresh air?" I tell him.

"You're not going anywhere without me," Wes grumbled.

"Certainly, Love. Can I have my phone? To call... Dean." Truthfully Dean and I haven't talked in a long time. Exactly ever since Wes and I began our relationship three years ago.

I should've listened to Dean.

"Now who in the hell is Dean?" He shouts, his spit spraying all over my face. "Why do you even need to call anyone?" He further approaches me. "Are you fucking cheating on me with someone else?" He gives me a rough shove backward.

"Stop it, Wes! Dean is my brother, remember?"

He stiffens his shoulders and nods.

"So can I have my phone now?" I ask again.

Wes walks around the couch and plops back down, cracking open another beer that was nearby. "No."

I give up and sit at the kitchen table. I have a clear view of Wes as he screams at the television as a pigskin gets kicked, run, and thrown all over. I never understood the appeal.

I decide to go into the living room area of our apartment and pick up a book from my small personal library. It mostly consists of urban legends and conspiracies, and other things of the sort. There's the occasional romance novel that Wes had gotten me when we first started dating, but now after everything that has happened I can't stand to read anything about a perfect relationship because as I have found out there is absolutely no such thing.

I chose a book on Wendigos. Some of these creatures I read about remind me of Wes in a strange way.

Hey, haha. Wendigo Wes. I chuckle to myself but realize it becomes less humorous knowing he would kill me if I ever actually said that. Speaking of Wesly, he isn't hollering anymore.

I pick myself up from the couch to the spare "Man Cave" room
where I had left him earlier. I see him on the small sofa, passed out. A half a beer is loosely rested in his hand. Not even an air horn to his ear could possibly wake him up.

I sneak over and kneel next to him. I push him gently to where I can reach my phone in his back pocket. I pinch it between to fingers and almost have it.

I almost had it.

Wes tightly grips my wrist and pulls me in, closing the space between us.

"I said no," he seethes.