How Could You

Getting Acquainted

Dean had been gone a couple of hours when you heard a knock on your door. "Dean, the last thing I wanna do is talk to you," you called.
Then the door opened. "I understand that, but I'm not Dean," Sam said.
"Oh, hey. Sorry. He just said something earlier that made me mad," you told Sam.
"Yeah, he does that sometimes. Trust me, I know."
"I'm sure you do. Why did he tell me you were gone?" you asked.
"Because I was." Sam pulled out the desk chair on the other side of the room and brought it by the bed so he could sit down.
"What do you mean?" It looked like he was trying to decide whether or not to tell you. "Sam, I'm a hunter. You can't tell me anything I won't believe."
"I was in Hell. In Lucifer's cage. That's the short version," he said.
"You were Lucifer's vessel."
"So you know about the apocalypse?"
"A little. Hunters talk. I know that the seals were broken and Lucifer was searching for his vessel, but that he wouldn't say yes. So Dean was Michael's vessel I take it?"
"Yeah," Sam told you. "But I said yes. Dean didn't."
"Why?"
"So that I could take Lucifer to the cage-"
"No, I know why you said yes. Why didn't Dean?" you interrupted. You fully understood why a hunter would say yes. It was the only way to control an archangel, the only power you could've hoped to hold over them.
Sam seemed to be shocked that you understood one side but not the other. "I guess it just... wasn't necessary. Dean said no, so Michael found someone else- while Lucifer persisted with me."
You nodded. "So how'd you get out?" you asked.
"Friend pulled me out. Angel friend." Sam sighed. "Not all of me, though. My soul got stuck in the cage. So until we got that out, I was without a soul for about a year."
"What was that like?"
"I don't remember too much. Just that I wasn't myself."
"So what's happened to you and Dean since then?"
"Well, after I went down and came back, Dean was on his own for a year while I was soulless. I'm guessing that's when you two worked together. Then a job brought us together again, and at first I didn't tell Dean about my soul. Some crazy shit went down, and when I got my soul back I got sent to an asylum- call it PTSD from the pit. Once I got better, we kept hunting. Leviathan. Dean got sent to Purgatory-"
"Purgatory? How?"
"He was too close when we killed the head honcho of the Levis."
"How long was he there?" you asked, a concerned tone in your voice. No wonder his eyes had aged so much.
"Bout a year," was all Sam said.
"Oh my god..." Now you regretted the way you had spoken to Dean earlier. He was just trying to be humorous and you kicked him out.
"Yeah. I don't really remember how he got out exactly, but he's back now. That's what matters." You looked into Sam's eyes and you could tell that he knew exactly how Dean got back, he just didn't like to think about it. "I'm just worried about losing him again now."
"Again? Why? What's going on?" you prodded.
"He's doing God's trials."
"God's trials?"
"Yeah. There's this demon tablet, and a prophet, a friend of ours. He translated it to find out that we can close the gates of Hell by completing a series of trials. And Dean's already done the first one. And he's fixated on doing the rest, even though they could kill him," Sam explained.
You weren't sure what to say. Sure, any hunter would be willing to risk their lives if it meant locking demons in Hell forever in theory, but in practice... "Wh... he..." you stuttered. You forced yourself to collect your thoughts. "How can I help?" you finally said after a while.
Sam smiled half heartedly. "I don't really know. Knock some sense into him? Seems like you're good at that."
"I'm not. I mean, he saved my life three years ago, but... we don't make a good team. One hunt together was enough to say that much," you told Sam. "But... honestly, I wouldn't mind staying here with you guys. A little PTSD, you know? Even for a hunter..."
"Hey, you're family. You can stay as long as you want or need. We'll help you figure out what happened to you. Okay?" Sam reached his hand out and placed it over the covers on your knee. Something about it actually comforted you.
"Thanks," you told him.
"No problem," he replied before getting up and leaving.
~~~
After the first good night's sleep you remembered having, you woke up and wandered the bunker, eventually finding your way to the library. You had your arms crossed and you slowly approached Sam as he sat at one of the tables reading some book. "Hey, do you think you can remember the name of the demon that possessed you?" he asked.
"Not off the top of my head, no. Maybe if I tried really hard, but even then, it might take me a while," you replied.
"Understandable. Well, I'm reading up on how to potentially summon the demon that possessed you, so maybe we can get some answers."
Your body clenches up at the idea of encountering the demon again. Obviously, the demon had wanted to target you specifically, seeing as it hadn't killed you. It just wanted to control you and hurt you and send your little hunter self on your merry way, but why? Why you? What was their end game, their message? These were the kinds of questions Sam must've intended to get the answers for if you could get your hands on the demon. "Mhm. Do you think I could maybe get something to eat? I'm starving."
"Of course you're starving, you haven't eaten since we picked you up. What do you like?"
"I mean, I like just about anything. I'm mostly used to burgers from fast food joints, but I'll eat almost anything you put in front of me," you told him.
"Almost?"
"Not pickles. They ruin everything. Like, you can take the pickles off something and it'll still taste like a pickle. I hate it. It's a cucumber's evil cousin." That got a laugh out of Sam.
"Fair enough," he said, smiling. He got up and gestured for you to follow him to the kitchen. "Well, I make a mean omelet."
"Is that so?" you asked, sitting down on a bar stool across from him.
"It is indeed, but Dean makes a mean pancake," Sam admitted.
"Mmm. Well, I'm more of an omelet girl myself, personally."
"Oh, really?" Sam asked, surprised.
"Pancakes are overrated. And really dense, mostly with sugar," you explained.
"Well, omelets it is. What do you like in your omelet?" Sam started getting the dishes he would need.
"What do you think is best?" This conversation with him was making you feel so much better. It got your mind off of all the heavy things.
"Personally- spinach, feta, and tomato."
"Wow. I was thinking more along the lines of bacon, cheddar, and potato hash. You're a health nut, aren't you?"
Sam laughed and went to the fridge. "That's what Dean says. Tell you what, how bout I make omelets with all the ingredients we both like?" He set down everything you both listed on the counter.
"I don't know... sounds like a weird combination to me."
"That's what makes it fun." He winked before cracking the eggs into a bowl and stirring them.
"Alright then. But when these omelets taste weird I'm blaming you."
Dean walked in about fifteen minutes later and you and Sam were at the kitchen table arguing about the omelets, but in a good way. "These are actually pretty good," Sam said. "Who knew potato hash would bring everything together."
"I told you. The only thing that throws this omelet off is the feta. Clashes with the cheddar," you replied.
"Are you kidding me? The cheddar clashes with the feta," Sam argued.
"Morning," Dean interrupted. "What, no breakfast for me?"
You turned to see Dean coming through the doorway of the kitchen, making his way to the table where you and Sam sat. "We thought you'd prefer your famous pancakes," Sam told him.
Dean glanced down at the little pieces of omelet left on your plate. "Yeah, no you're right. Those omelets look nasty."
You and Sam chuckled. As Dean started pulling things out to make his pancakes, Sam finished up his breakfast and got up from the table. "I'm gonna get back to research."
"See you later," you said as Sam left.
Dean glanced back and forth between you and Sam. "Something going on?" he asked.
You were confused, unsure of what he meant by that. "What?"
He contemplated what he was about to say for a moment before telling you, "Never mind."
"No, Dean, tell me," you insist.
"Nothing, it was stupid, okay? End of discussion."
"You'd only say that if you were jealous- are you jealous?" Part of you enjoyed taunting him.
"What would I be jealous of?"
"Me and Sam having breakfast omelets together." You smiled. This was really entertaining you.
"Shut up."
"What's really going on, Dean?" you asked in a serious tone.
"I'm just trying to figure this out, okay?"
"Figure what out?"
"You. What... what happened to you. With the demon." As soon as he said it you knew that wasn't what he really wanted to say. He really wanted to figure out what happened after you slept with him, after you left.
"Dean... you already know why I left. We didn't make a good team, and I didn't want you following me," you told him outright.
"That's not what I said."
"I know it's not what you said, but it's what you wanted to say."
"I had just wanted to help," he admitted.
"And you did. You saved my life then, and you saved my life now. But that doesn't give you any kind of ownership over me. I can still take care of myself."
"I know you can. I just... thought you could be family. Not me owning you."
You weren't sure what to say to that, so you left him to his pancakes and went back to your room.