Title: My Friend

Rating: M (language, drug usage, mild hinted slash)

Disclaimer: Supernatural does not belong to me. No way. No how.

Summary: Devil You Know spoilers! Brady was Sam's best friend, the smiling devil on his shoulder.

"Brady was my best friend," Sam said, not looking away from his window, from his reflection.

"I know," Dean said.

Sam shook his head, "No, you don't."

XXX

Brady was the boy with the million dollar smile and the million dollar bank account from the million dollar family. He was smart, dedicated, and basically nice and he told Sam, "I'm heading to the top," the first time they met.

He was Sam's best friend.

Brady came back and he still had the million dollar smile and the million dollar bank account from the million dollar family. He was still smart too but he wasn't dedicated anymore, at least not in school. He also wasn't that nice anymore…to anyone but Sam. He said, "I'm heading to the top, my friend," with a hungry glint in his eyes and Sam ignored the itch of warning at the back of his mind.

He was Sam's best friend.

"What happened to you?" Sam asked, had been dying to ask since Brady returned with a little more attitude and a lot less care.

Brady smiled wide. "I was bit by the fun bug Sammy. God, was I a bore or what? You can admit it."

Sam rolled his eyes. "This is supposed to be fun?"

"Yup," Brady pulled a joint out of his handy green ashtray. He then held it out to Sam. "Try it and find out."

Sam looked doubtful.

Brady spun it in his fingers. "Come on. You can't lecture me 'til you try it."

"Yeah, I can."

Brady groaned. "Yeah, you probably can but I'm not going to listen. I'm serious, man; I'll put my fingers in my ears and sing the fun song."

Sam let out a huff of laughter and Brady smiled back at him, still wide. The smile then lessened, became sly and teasing. He moved the ashtray out of his way, lit the joint, and scooted to the edge of the bed.

Sam tried to spin his chair away to escape the smoke but Brady firmly pulled him back in place. He took a hit. His eyes stayed locked on Sam's and he leaned close until their lips were barely touching.

Sam opened his mouth.

His eyes closed as the smoke entered his lungs.

"Fun, huh?" he heard Brady say.

XXX

Dean glanced at him from the driver's seat. Sam could feel his gaze, full of concern and sympathy. It was heavy enough that Sam felt like throwing himself out of the car just to breathe.

Dean turned his eyes back to the road and kept driving.

Dean didn't know. Dean wouldn't ask.

Sam wouldn't tell him.

XXX

Brady went to the gym every Friday, lifting weights and practicing the boxing he'd learned in high school. He'd come to Sam's room and kick the bed, calling him lazy. Sam didn't tell him he probably couldn't take a shape-shifter on his best day.

Brady went out every Friday, drinking tequila and starting trouble. He'd call Sam from this phone booth or that and say, "I shouldn't have done that," with a laugh. Sam saw the bottle come down on the side of Brady's head and it was the first time Sam showed him what he could do.

His knuckles felt bruised. His cheek stung. His ears were vibrating with all the noise still bumping from the speakers while people pushed, shoved, punched, bit, and kicked each other. The dance floor had become a violent free-for-all.

Sam laughed, feeling more alive than he had in months with the taste of copper in his mouth.

A hand landed on his shoulder and he turned to see Brady smiling widely. There was a drying bit of blood coming out of his nose and going down to his chin. His pupils were blown wide. Sam could see his lips form the word 'awesome'.

Sam shook his head, not quite able to eliminate the smile on his face. He had come here for Brady. Brady was in trouble. Brady needed help before he got his ass kicked while high on every drug known to man.

Sam was just helping him out…really.

And, while Sam helped him outside, he put his head on Sam's shoulder and laughed softly. "You know, Sam, you are my favorite."

XXX

"You know how possession works, Sam," Dean said, suddenly. "Those bastards can make it convincing."

Sam supposed that was supposed to be comfort. He tossed Dean a thin smile. "I know."

XXX

"Sammy, Sammy, Sammy…"

"It's Sam," he corrected without opening his eyes.

"You know you're my best friend, right?"

Sam opened his eyes, frowned, and turned to look at Brady. He was on the floor with his head perched on the side of Sam's bed. "What are you on tonight?" Sam asked, tiredly. Brady didn't answer though. He didn't look normal but Sam wasn't so sure what normal Brady even looked like any more.

"You know you're my best friend," he repeated. His expression was serious.

"I know."

Brady put a heavy hand on his shoulder. "And, you know I just want help you out? Make sure you be all you're meant to be."

Sam watched him, not sure where that was going. Brady shook his shoulder. "Yeah, okay, I know," he said.

Brady's face broke out in a slow, wide smile. "Good." He hopped onto the bed, shoving Sam over and laying with both arms beneath his head. "I got someone for you to meet. Girl. Hot as fuck. You'll like her."

"Hmmm… Can I go to sleep now?"

Brady laughed, sat up, and planted a sloppy kiss on Sam's forehead that smelled of cheap beer.

XXX

Thin smile still in place, Sam said, "Stop the car."

Dean pulled to the side without comment.

Sam opened his door, leaned over, and threw up.

A/N: I fell in love with Brady and his history with Sam. Complete, total, at-first-sight love. So, I warn you, Brady will probably be popping up in more fics.

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