Sam Winchester had never been normal. He'd never had a house—or at least one that he could remember. He never ha one, stable school either. But, a lot of people lived like that. No. What made Sam different was that he grew up learning how to hunt monsters. Even at Stanford, he'd research cases and send them to Bobby to send to Dean. He could give a rat's ass about John, but he knew Dean would never leave the hunt like he did. Dean thrived on blowing shit up.

But then Dean showed up at Stanford, and John was missing. And Sam was having dreams. Dreams about Jess. She'd be running through their apartment, and he'd chase her… And then when he got to the bedroom… She's be burning on the ceiling. He never told anyone about the dreams.

Until they came true.

He left Stanford after Jess died, and returned to the hunt with Dean. Dean still wanted to find John… but Sam just wanted to find the SOB that killed Jess.

The two brothers traveled the country… Saving people… Hunting things; the family business. After the woman in white, it was a wendigo. Then a demon, even Bloody fucking Mary. They searched far and wide, running from cops and monsters…

And then the thing that killed their mother and Jess found them, and tried to kill the Winchesters three.

Sam made it out with minimal damage, but John… and especially Dean, weren't so lucky. Dean was legally dead. D-E-A—.

But John didn't like that… No he didn't. Dean John sold his soul to trade places with his son. And so Dean rose, and the boys took off on the road again. That's when they met Ellen and Jo and Ash, and they were a family again.

But Sam started seeing things again; and other people like him were being killed. Hunted. One by one, they dropped like flies, and the world had one less of Azazel's freaks.

And then Sam disappeared. The other psychics were stronger, more experienced with their powers—but Sam was smarter. While Bobby and Dean tried to find him, Sam watched Andy die, and Ava go bad.

And then Sam was stabbed. His body crumpled to the floor while his brother foolishly tried to save him. Dean felt like his entire world was collapsing. Dad… and now Sam? Dean took off in the middle of the night to avoid Bobby. Drove to the crossroads. Black cat bone, a picture from one of his fake IDs….

The devil in the black dress with eyes as red as blood.

Dean kissed her lips and made a deal, and an expiration date was stamped on his foot. He had one year. One year to live. One year before he went to Hell.

And so Sam rose, and they killed the demon with the yellow eyes—and Sam cried. Cried for the brother he'd lose in a year's time. And he cried for Jess, and he cried for John; and he cried and he cried…

And then Ruby showed up. Then Bela. And Sam stopped crying and started fighting. Ruby taught him that demons could help… and Bela taught him to never let Dean set the combination to the safe. 2-25-5 was too easy to guess if you knew Dean well, or if you had the ability to get him drunk. It was a race against time. A dead end court case titled Winchester v. Lilith. Every day her dogs grew hungrier and Dean grew weaker. And then Ruby said she couldn't help Dean. She had lied.

And so Dean died.

For four months, Sam stayed with Ruby. He cut himself off from Bobby and Ellen and Jo and gave himself to Ruby. She had a new plan—this one to get revenge. She filled him to the brim with her blood, and watched him kill her brothers and sisters with a smile on his face.

But then Dean came back. The apocalypse was starting. The righteous man had shed blood in Hell… And Dean was a different person. He guessed that he was too.

And when Dean found out about Ruby and the blood, he shut Sam up in the panic room and left him to go mad. Dean wanted to make Sam better, but Sam didn't think he was sick. So Sam got better, but he wasn't better. He was even sicker than before.

The last seal must be the death of Lucifer's first, and when Sam slaughtered Lilith and Dean, Ruby… the cage was opened, and Satan was freed. And they said, "Screw destiny!" and refused to say yes. Michael. Lucifer. Dean. Sam. The two brothers fought—two boys, an old drunk, a fallen angel, two bartenders, a trickster and a kid brother. One by one, allies were lost. Jo and Ellen, Gabriel… But still the brothers cried, "Team Free Will!"

But salvation was not without casualties… No. Sam and Adam were trapped in Hell. Three days later, Sam rose again, but he wasn't Sam. His soul had fallen out of his ripped up chest, and the wound closed, and there was no more ache. But even when Death himself put up a wall to keep the dam from breaking… He still scratched. He scratched, and tore, and here we are now, Sammy.

Balthazar's laugh reverberates through the warehouse as he steps into the light cast by the holy fire circle surrounding his feet. "You've always been a freak, Sam. Don't expect me to help you."