In Time -Supernatural FanFic

Chapter 8: I'm Sorry About Your Mother

        I lay upstairs in the bedroom trying to piece everything together, from what I know and from what Crowley told me. I hear a crash downstairs. I run to the door and opened it. Before I leave my room, I decide to grab the weapon Bobby stashed in my closet. I grab the shotgun, even though I'm unsure how to use it, it'll hopefully scare whoever is in the house.

        I exit my room and descend the stairs, quietly. When I reach the bottom I look to the left and to the room, I can't see anything because it's dark. I turn on the living room light, no one's there. I tiptoe to the kitchen and before I enter, another bang erupts from the dark kitchen and someone groans. I inch forward to the doorway, reaching my hand around the wall to flip the light switch. The light turns on and I see Sam, squinting, trying to adapt to the sudden bright light.

        I ask, "Sam, aren't you and Dean suppose to be working a job?"

        Sam looks my way and stumbles closer to the table. He pulls out a chair and sits. By the way he's acting, I'm sure he's drunk.

        Sam mumbles, "Dean, and I finished the... Jo... Job. Dean's somewhere."

        I laugh, "Are you drunk?"

        Sam burps, "Nooo."

        I keep laughing while I move to the cupboard and grab a cup to pour him a glass of coffee. I hand him the mug and he slams it against the table and begins to laugh.

        I ask, "What's so funny?"

        Sam asks, "The coffee. Does it have some whiskey in it?"

        I laugh, "No, you don't need any. I'm really tired, I'm heading back to bed. Night, Sam."

        Sam grabs my hand before I turn away and squeezes it. His eyes look sad but he's smiling.

        Sam says, "Sit down."

       I sit down because I feel like Sam needs someone to talk to, based on the look in his eyes/

        Sam sighs, "I hope you don't get your memory back."

        I feel my mouth hanging open in shock, "Excuse me?"

        Sam frowns, "Hunting isn't fun. It's not a life you should have. I hate it. I think I know what Crowley meant by you and I are alike. You must not have liked hunting either when your parents introduced it to you. My father was obsessed with hunting."

        I ask, "Sam, what do you mean?"

        Sam continues, "A demon killed my mother... And after that, my father started hunting to find the demon who killed his wife, our mother. My mom was a hunter before Dean and I were born but she didn't want us to be raised around it. But I guess her wish didn't come true.."

        I say, "I'm sorry about your mother, Sam."

        I kneel down beside Sam and hug him. He starts to cry drunkenly and he hugs me back. After a bit, I try to pull away from the embrace but Sam wouldn't let me. I heard the front door open and Sam and I pull away from each other. Dean walks in and looks at Sam.

        He asks, "Sammy? What happened?"     

        I feel angry towards Dean and yell, "You left him alone, and he drank alcoh..."

        Sam interrupts, "No, Dean didn't do anything.

        Sam tries to stand up but fails. He tries again and succeeds. He stumbles over to Dean and grabs him by the shoulders. He looks at him for a few minutes and pulls Dean into a tight embrace.

       Dean returns the hug and pulls away, chuckling, "Let's get you to bed."

        I say, "He can sleep in my bedroom. I'll sleep down here."

        Sam starts to say something but I tell him to be quiet. Dean and I help Sam walk up the stairs and into the guest bedroom where I am staying. He flops onto the bed and asks, "Wait. Wait. Where's my beer?"

        I laugh, "Lay down, and go to sleep."

        He turns towards the wall and starts to snore almost instantly.

        Dean whispers, "Let's get out of here.