Sam Winchester (and occasionally others) x Reader

Bloodied Hands (Sam) (pt 3)

It's been a few weeks since the fiasco with the boys tieing you up in the dungeon. Dean wasn't happy at first to see you out of your ropes, but after Sam explained his reasoning Dean relaxed. His eyes, however, followed you like a hawk. You knew both boys were watching you close, waiting for the fall.

You have been clean for 3 weeks, and it felt better than you thought. You figured you would be writhing on the ground begging for a hit by now, but here you were sitting at the kitchen table with the boys and eating pancakes. The boys were teasing each other, per usual, and you sat back and enjoyed it.

The boys have been staying close to home with the hunts they take so that they can come to you when you inevitably crash. It's a sweet gesture, but in truth you felt like you were troubling them. It wasn't some big onset of chronic depression bad, but a small twinge of guilt in the back of your mind.

You sat in the library looking at a book that Sam had asked you to finish cataloguing. You were alone, the boys a state over to help a friend with a vamps nest. Sam tried to insist they didn't need to go, but you couldn't let them sit this out because you were iffy, so you let them go.

You reread the line for the twelfth time before finally leaning back to rub your eyes. They stung from your incessant staring at the dusty old book. You felt your stomach rumble and decided maybe you could get away with a short food break.

You slide the chair back and stand as a spell of dizziness washed over you. You grab the table to steady yourself and lean against it for support. You attempt to sit back down, but your vision becomes blurred and you fall to the floor.

Blindly, you reach for the cell phone you knew was on the table as a headsplitting headache set in. You squeeze your eyes shut in an attempt to shut out the pain and dizziness right as your hands make contact with the screen of your phone. When you try to grab it, the phone falls off of the table next to you on the floor.

You open your eyes, the blurred vision mostly gone, but the headache seems to get worse with the flood of light in your eyes. With a hiss in pain, you dial Sam's number and put it on speaker.

************
Sam attempts to wipe a bit off vamp blood from his cheek as Dean begins to laugh. "Dude, you got drenched."

He tries to glare at his brother, but a smile on his face ruins it. "You're not looking any better."

Dean was about to retort when Sam's phone began ringing. He pulled it out and looked to the caller ID with a concerned look before answering. "(Y/n)? What's wrong?" He could hear your pained breathing and groaning from his side, he knew things weren't good.

He waved to Dean to get in the car, and they sped back to the bunker, Sam never hanging up. Your breathing was ragid and horse, but you were breathing and that's what he focused on. It took a few hours for them to get back, a few hours you spent on the floor writhing in agony as you waited for Sam to come save you.

You had gone numb, the pain rolling back and forth in waves as a hunger took over your thoughts. Blood. Blood. Need it now. Now you layed down on the floor, waiting, wondering, when will he come? Is he even going to come, or is he so disgusted that he is going to let you rot and die down there?

Your thoughts are stopped by the loud slam of metal and hurried steps down the stairs. Your sure that whoever was coming for you was calling to you, but you couldn't hear it very well.

"Sam?" You ask before another wave of pain shoots through you when he touches you.

Your brain says to move closer into his arms to look for some sort of comfort he could offer, but your body screams out in pain and tells you to get away from him.

You tug on his jacket and pull him close. "Sam... It hurts..." You squeek out, the pain washing over you again as Sam stood with you in his arms.

He quickly carried you down the stairs to your shared room and laid you down on the bed. A panic rose in him as he tried to get your attention, which you returned with only groans and grunts in pain.

"(Y/n)? Babe, hey come on, you have to stay awake." He chanted as Dean came in, brandishing a few chains.

Sam glared at him, but knew it had to be done to protect not only you, but them as well. Sam helped Dean shackle you down to the bed, rags wrapped around your wrists to prevent the metal from cutting you.

After getting you secured to the bed, Sam sat back with a sigh. He hated to see you like this, and could only imagine what Dean and Bobby went through when he did this. Sam felt a hand on his shoulder and turned to see Dean handing him a beer. He took it with a nod before turning back to where you lay on the bed.

"We should leave her be for now. She needs to rest." Dean sighs, taking a swig of his own beer.

"It's ok, I'll stay here." Sam sips some of his own as he shifts to a more comfortable position on the chair.

"Are you sure you want to see all this crap? You will only be making yourself suffer."

Sam turned and scowled at Dean. "No offence Dean, but after everything that happened, being locked alone in a room with nothing but hallucinations of the people I loved telling me how much of a failure I am was the last thing I needed." Sam looked at a shocked Dean with a sigh before turning back around. "I'll stay. If you wanna go that's fine." He said it a little harder than he meant to. "I know what she's going through, and I don't want to to think she's alone in this." He whispered more to himself than Dean, but he knew his brother heard him.

With a silent nod Dean left the room, the door closing with a soft thud behind him.