Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.
Sam downed another shot, leaning back against the bar to study the other patrons. Honestly he was bored and frustrated. So much for a hunt, it just turned out to be a bunch of teenagers pulling pranks. It sucked; he’d really been looking forward to a good fight only to end up calling 911 and reporting the brats. He sighed and then pushed away from the bar, heading out into the night, his eyes instantly adjusting to the darkness. Shouts broke Sam out of his melancholy thoughts and he broke into a run. What he saw made him snarl, a bunch of drunken thugs were trashing a guy and it looked like they weren’t going to stop. Sam threw himself into the fight, putting himself between the fallen male and his attackers. Sam let his eyes flash even as his nails began to lengthen into claws. The drunken men just stared at him stupidly before attacking; Sam really hated drunks, no survival instincts. Oh well he’d wanted a fight. Of course it wasn’t much of a fight since his opponents were human and rather drunk but it was better than nothing. Once they were all down and either out or groaning in agony Sam took a deep, calming breath, forcing his inner beast back before kneeling beside the victim. He rolled him over and stared down at him, taking in the short blonde hair and strong features. Checking him for wounds he found a knife, gun and a protection amulet. Great so the victim was a hunter. No problem there, he’d been around other hunters before without giving himself away, he could do it again. Taking a deep breath he gathered the man in his arms and then headed back to his motel.
Dean moaned, his head pounding as he forced his eyes open, trying to figure out where he was. It looked like a motel room but not his. He forced himself almost upright, tensing as the door opened and a young man entered. The guy was taller than him and well muscled and Dean felt a flash of fear, he was in no condition to try and fight the guy off if he tried something. Dean suddenly found himself staring into concerned hazel eyes.
“Good to see you awake. How are you feeling?” The stranger asked and Dean felt himself relax a little, he didn’t seem like a psycho. Of course in his line of work that didn’t mean much.
“Where am I?” Dean croaked out before coughing. He watched as the man headed into the bathroom before emerging again with a glass of water. Dean sipped at it slowly, enjoying the feel of the cool liquid sliding down his parched throat.
“My motel room. I don’t know what you did to piss those guys off but maybe you should avoid it without backup. You’re lucky I heard someone scream, you were out when I got there and they showed no signs of stopping. My name’s Sam.” The young man told him and Dean stared at him, slowly realising how close he may have come to dying from something other than hunting.
“Dean....and well thanks, for saving me I guess.” Dean told him and Sam smiled at him, flashing deep dimples and Dean felt a flicker of...something.
“Couldn’t leave another hunter to that sort of death.” Sam told him and Dean tensed.
“Hunter?” He asked warily.
“Christo.” Sam just grinned at him before tossing Dean his gun and knife. Dean caught them, still watching Sam warily.
“Paranoid.” Sam told him but his tone was teasing as he pulled an amulet out from under his shirt and Dean nodded, recognising the anti-possession charm for what it was.
“You here for that haunting?” Sam asked and Dean thought about whether or not he should answer, few hunters liked competition.
“Good luck.” Sam said, smirking slightly and Dean’s eyes narrowed, making Sam laugh.
“Sorry, already looked into it....and got the kids responsible busted by the local cops.” The younger looking man explained and Dean felt a flash of disappointment, he’d been looking forward to an easy salt and burn.
“Looking forward to the hunt?” Sam asked as he walked closer, holding out a bag. Dean took it and looked in to see a packaged sandwich. He opened it and took a bite, salad was not his favourite thing but he knew he needed the food.
“Thanks and yeah.” Dean said once he’d swallowed.
“So how’d you get into all this?” Dean asked once he’d finished eating and Sam shrugged.
“My Dad’s a hunter, but my Mom taught me most of what I know. She died when I was a kid.”
“Who’s your Dad? Maybe I know him.”
“Maybe. He doesn’t even know I exist. I’ve actually talked to him online a few times but...it’s complicated.” Sam admitted and Dean looked him over, mentally listing every hunter he knew that Sam looked even remotely like, he could only think of four and one was his own Dad so he decided not to dwell on it.
“If you’re feeling better I’ll give you a lift back to your room. My reservation’s up today.” Sam suddenly said, changing the subject. Dean nodded and groaned, trying to get out of the bed. A gentle hand on his elbow helped him to his feet and towards the bathroom.
“Clean towels are on the toilet, yell out if you need help.” Sam told him and Dean nodded.
Once the bathroom door was shut and he heard the shower come on Sam sank down on the bed, mentally kicking himself. What the hell had he been thinking, telling Dean so much? He’d seen the way the older man had looked at him, trying to figure out who his Dad could be. No one could ever find out! If they did and approached his Dad....they’d learn the truth about Sam. He may not have any actual friends among the hunters but there were some he liked and the thought of them coming after him, having to defend himself against them, maybe even hurt or kill them...... But something about Dean made Sam want to open up more than he usually did, despite the danger. Dean would have access to silver bullets for sure and even if he didn’t all it would take would be a lucky hit with a silver knife and it’d all be over for Sam.
“Thanks for the shower; this place has better pressure than mine.” Sam looked up and nodded at Dean as he emerged from the bathroom, blonde hair still wet.
“No problem. Need me to changes any bandages for you?” Sam offered and Dean sighed but turned around, revealing the wet gauze Sam had applied the night before. Sam got up and gently removed it, getting a clean one and some antibiotic cream just to be safe. A few seconds and it was all done.
“Thanks.” Dean murmured and Sam nodded as he moved away to grab his keys and jacket. Dean followed him; a little unsteady, but still able to walk unaided. Dean nodded when he saw Sam’s car, a black 1970 Dodge Challenger, nowhere near as nice as his Impala as far as Dean was concerned but not a bad car. Sam got in and opened the passenger door so Dean could get in too. Dean directed him across town and Sam pulled into another run down motel, parking next to a black ’67 Impala.
“Yours?” Sam asked and Dean grinned.
“My baby.” Dean answered and Sam smiled.
“Well it was nice meeting you.” Sam said and Dean nodded and then hesitated before grabbing a scrap of paper out of his pocket and a pen. He scribbled something and then handed it to Sam.
“My number, in case....I owe you one.” Dean said and Sam took it but shook his head.
“No you don’t. Just try and stay away from drunken bikers for now.” Sam told him and Dean laughed before heading for his room. Sam waited till he was safely inside before driving away, heading for the highway out of town.
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