sad prayers for guilty bodies d winchester

by etherealnafarious

"I think you saw me confronting my fear, it went up with a bottle and went down with the beer and I think you ought to stay away from here, there are ghosts in the walls and they crawl in your head through your ear." She has known them her whole life, her mother was a hunter, like their father, and a friend of their father. She had quickly grown fond of the youngest Winchester, Sa

Chapter 01
"Fate loves the fearless."

I obviously don't own Supernatural. Dean/OC

The dark alley way was empty, the young woman's flat converse slapping against the pavement the only sound echoing through the night. A strong wind harshly slammed against the small woman, who clutched her skimpy leather jacket closer to her. She usually wouldn't be out this late at night, but she had lost track of time while visiting her father. He had offered to send one his workers to walk her home but the only one available had given her the creeps.
The lady was so absorbed in the music blasting into her ears she didn't notice the sound of footsteps following her, nor did she realize that the alley way was not empty as she had previous thought, until she was pushed gently to the wall. The attackers hands carefully cradled her, making sure she would not be hurt. Assuming it was a man, she jerked her knee up on reflex. He groaned, stumbling away from her.
In one fluid motion she pulled her trusty kunai from her belt and rushed at the man, shoving his body against the brick wall and pressing the blunt blade to his Adam's apple, lightly enough as to not break skin but applying just the right amount of pressure. He stiffened, halting all movements.
The dim yellow light from a near by lamppost shined down on him, giving the woman a better view. She instantly relaxed, recognizing him as none other then Sam Winchester. She tugged out the earbuds that had somehow remained in her ears. Her shoulders slumped, relief flooding through her and she stepped back, securing her small - but deadly - knife back into it's place in her belt.
"Jesus, Samantha! You can't just sneak up on me like that," she chastised, ruffling Sam's wavy brown hair. He swatted her hand away and she smiled in response, genuinely happy to see her childhood friend. She tucked her thumbs into the front pocket of her jeans, casually leaning against the wall behind her. "What are you doing here? Last I heard you were at collage, discovering the cure to cancer and all that."
"How many times do I have to tell you that my name is Sam, not Samantha, Clementine?" he asked, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
Clementine grinned and flipped back her dark hair, which the wind had turned into a disaster. To say she was shocked to see him was an understatement, he was so dedicated to his studies and his girlfriend Jessica that he rarely visited her. In fact, she couldn't remember the last time he had since getting into college and dropping the hunting business, but she wasn't going to push.
"At least a hundred more times." she teased.
Sam shook his head, dimples showing on his cheeks as he smiled. He grabbed her in her arms, holding her close. He had forgotten how tiny she was, the top of her head reached just below his chin. For the first time in a while he felt content, allowing himself to fully relax with his arms wrapped around his closest friend. She had always had a calming, nurturing aura about her.
Until Dean came around that was. Sam chuckled, remembering all the times his best friend had gotten out her claws to shred into Dean with her words. He, of course, returned the favor, only in a much more cool manner. Never letting her see how much she truly got under his skin.
"What's so funny, punk?" she mumbled into his chest.
"Nothing, just thinking about when we were teenagers is all." he assured her, and she didn't have to look up at him to know that he was smiling still.
Clementine groaned, stepping back from him. She had been quite annoying and awkward as a teenager, she had no idea how anyone had put up with her. Sometimes, laying in bed at two in morning, she would just cringe over her past self.
"Those were dark times," she said, faking a shiver of horror. "I still don't understand why you would befriend me. I'm glad you did though."
"You're to hard on your past self, Clementine." he scolded.
She made a face, pulling her lips back in a grimace, but didn't argue it any further. After all, she was her own worst critic, that she already knew.
"Hate to break up the reunion, but could you hurry this up and ask her already?"
Clementine bristled at the familiar, gruff voice that belonged to Dean Winchester. Her icy blue eyes shot to where the sound came from just as his athletic silhouette emerged from the shadows at the end of the alley. Sam touched her arm softly and her body slowly uncoiled from the predatory stance it had taken.
"Ask me what? Do you need something?" she questioned, keeping her eyes focused on Sam and her voice sweet as honey.
Sam sighed, "Can we talk privately, at your house maybe?"
Hastily she nodded, "Of course."
"I'll drive," Dean threw in.
Clementine forced herself to take a deep breath and shoot the man a smile. She would not let his presence rile her up, or ruin her time with Sammy.
"Sounds great!" she chirpily replied.
Sam gave her a sympathetic look, putting his arm around her shoulder as they walked. He knew that Dean wasn't her favorite person, but she was trying, for him, and that was all the mattered. He shot his brother a warning glance as they walked past. Dean innocently shrugged in response, grinning once Sam's back was turned.