One small act can hold great consequences and change the course of the future. What if Azazel had died years before he could make Sam one of his 'special children' and the Winchester brothers never grew up in the hunting business?
Instead of knives...
Look at the picture above... LOOK AT MY PRECIOUS LUCIFER FUNKO AND THOSE SPARKLING WINGS OOO Isn't he perfect?!
"Mark, why is there smoke coming out of the toaster?" ~ Sam Winchester
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Carefully, Sam traced his finger over Mark's wound. The man shivered under his touch, watching him carefully with those clear blue eyes of his. He had removed the bandages, almost anxious to check after his talk with Bobby, and had found that the wound had almost completely healed. It was still red and stark against his skin, but the muscles and body tissues seemed to have managed to fix themselves just fine. "I don't think you need those bandages anymore. You seem to have a swift recovery, we just need to keep an eye out for any infections," Sam said, mind whirling as he tried to grasp what he was seeing.
"Is that... good?" Mark frowned.
Even with his mind racing, Sam couldn't help but smile lightly at the innocence he still seemed to possess. "Yes, Mark. That's a good thing."
"Then why were you frowning?"
Surprised, Sam looked up. Mark was already looking at him in honest curiosity. "I guess I just tend to frown when I'm thinking deeply enough about something," he said. He could already see the question before Mark could say it aloud. "I'm not a doctor. I guess that I'm just surprised at how fast you're healing," he shook his head lightly, "I believe that you just got really lucky there."
That must be it, Sam thought, allowing his muscles to relax, releasing some tension from his shoulders. It was just a series of lucky circumstances, no matter how unlikely it might seem, that is what must have happened. After all, what else could it possibly be?
Mark nodded and put his flannel on again after Sam gave it back to him. Sam glanced at Gabriel, who was curled up in his dog bed and appeared to be dozing off. "We should go to sleep as well. It's already late," Sam commented as he stood up to his full height. Mark looked up to him with sparkling eyes. "Would you like to take the bed again?" Sam offered.
"I think I'll stay here," Mark said. Sam nodded, not finding himself minding much and part of him glad that he could sleep in his own bed again.
~~
The next day, Sam woke to something falling over in his kitchen and Gabriel barking continuously. Startled, he fell off his bed in a heap of blankets and long limbs. He allowed himself to lay there for a few seconds before he heaved himself up and threw off the blankets, standing up slowly. Quickly pulling his legs through the first pair of pants he found, he tumbled downstairs as he tried to comb his hair somewhat with his fingers.
"Mark? Gabriel?" He called out, yawning once and rubbing at his tired eyes as he stumbled towards the kitchen. There he found Mark, pressed against the wall with large eyes, standing close enough to the wall as if he wanted to disappear into the wood. Gabriel stood in front of him, almost protectively and appeared to be barking at... a toaster? He could see a pan laying on the floor, figuring that must have made the noise. "Mark, what's wrong?" Sam asked in alarm, instinctively taking a step closer.
