February 24th 2014. Sammy's birthday and no one knew, except her boyfriend, Michael. She'd spent the day how she normally would, looking for hints of possible hunts, it was a normal day for her. She hadn't celebrated her birthday since she was 15, so why bother now.
That changed by 6pm that night though. Michael appeared from their bedroom, smartly dressed, and grinning.
"Get changed, beautiful, I'm taking you out to dinner." He beamed.
"I said I didn't want to do anything." She replied, screwing her face up a little.
"And I said we were going to do something, so go, and no plaid shirts and jeans. We're going somewhere nice because you deserve it to be treated." He grinned and kissed her forehead, turning her in her chair and pointing towards their room. "Go."
She huffed and plodded to the room, after three different dresses, 2 shirts and pants, she finally settled on an outfit, ran a brush through her hair and was back with Michael.
"Wow." He said, taking her hand and pulling her close. "You're so hot."
"Shut up." She kissed him lightly, smiling against the angels lips. "Let's just get this over and done with." She huffed a laugh and walked out to her car.
The restaurant was quiet, mostly filled with couples, looking at each other lovingly while soft music played in the background. Sammy shook her head, turning back towards the door.
"Nope, I can't eat here, it's too classy, I don't do classy."
Michael grabbed her shoulders and turned her back round.
"You can do classy, and it's just for one night, please, Sammy." He leaned his head down and kissed the side of her neck before whispering in her ear. "Please, for me?"
"Fine." She said, shivering when his lips brushed across her ear. "For you."
They sat down, ordered from the menu, Michael even got a bottle of champagne, and Sammy finally relaxed, she enjoyed herself for the first time in 12 years.
"Thank you." She said, as her car rolled to a stop outside the cabin.
"Have you had fun?" Michael asked, unsure, but grinning again.
"More than ever." She smiled widely, leaning over and kissing him before getting out of the car and walking into the cabin. She pulled her heels off and slumped down onto the couch with a giggle.
"I actually think I'm a little drunk." She admitted, looking up at Michael as he strolled in through the door. "Must be the champagne."
"Must be, but the night is still young." He pulled a bottle of Jack Daniels from behind his back and sat next to her, he poured them both a glass and leaned back.
"Whiskey? Now we're talkin'." She grinned, taking a sip.
"Well, it's still your birthday for another hour." He remarked, "And..I have got you something.." He added, his voice quiet. Sammy frowned and shook her head.
"I told you not to get me anything for birthdays when we got together."
"Hear me out," He reahed his arm down the side of the couch and grabbed a neatly wrapped package, he placed it gently on her lap. "Open it."
She did as she was told, carefully pulling the ribbon to open the bow and then ripping the paper open.
"A book?" She looked at it then looked up at him.
"An Enochian book. I've had it for a long time, but I've never found much use for it," He shrugged. "I want you to have it."
"No. No, I can't." She looked down at it, her fingers stroking over the leather binding of the spine.
"Please, Sammy. You're a hunter, it'll be of more use to you anyway, there isn't a spell or phrase in that book that I do not know, being an archangel," His fingers found hers and squeezed her hand. "I want you to have this book."
She sighed and nodded.
"No more birthday presents." She smiled and kissed him softly. "Promise me that?"
"I can't." He smirked, returning the kiss.
Sammy was happy, she had everything she ever wanted, she was on top of the world.
o.o.o.o.o.o
Now, sitting alone in a dingy, mouldy motel room was something Sammy had become used to over the last few months. Her only company being a bottle of scotch and the book Michael had given to her on her birthday just a few weeks before they broke up. On the nights she couldn't sleep due to crippling nightmares of her time in Hell plaguing her, she'd flick through the book.
On previous nights like this one, she had already marked a few spells in the book, one that particularly peaked her interest was a summoning spell. Not for summoning demons, but for summoning angels, instead of praying for them. She'd translated the Enochian as best she could, even though she wasn't entirely knowledgeable on the language. It had taken her the best part of two months to figure out and translate the spell, and tonight, she was reading the faded words on the page over and over, so much it sounded as if it were some kind of voodoo chant until finally flicking to the back of the book. Sammy sighed, her fingers tracing over the photograph of herself and Michael, her index finger stroking over his face on the glossy paper. The edges were torn, the picture itself was slightly crumpled but it didn't make it mean any less to her. The picture was taken of the pair when they were on vacation in Texas, when they were together..when they were happy.
She swirled her whiskey in the glass before downing it, not even flinching as it burned her throat. She pushed herself away from the scratched table and stood up, running a hand through her hair. Her head whirled from the intake of alcohol and she rubbed at her tired, red rimmed eyes, sighing deeply.
Her gaze fell upon the book, most importantly upon the sigils that needed to be drawn in order to do the spell. With a cuss, she stumbled over to her duffle bag, rummaging around in the small pockets on the sides of it before pulling out a stick of white chalk and rolling it in her fingers.
She pushed the table back against the door, clearing a space on the floor and she snatched the book in her free hand, dropping to her knees and frantically drawing out each sigil, copying perfectly from the old pages of the book.
A few moments later, the scuffed wood flooring was decorated with completed Enochian sigils, so she stood with a grin and checked everything over a final time. Her fingers curled around the edges of the book and she re-read the spell in her head, her knees going weak and shaky from the anticipation of what could happen, after all this could mean everything if it works.
After a few more moments, another double whiskey and a few deep breaths she finally recited the spell out loud, Enochian falling from her lips so perfectly you'd think she was one of God's warriors herself and not a mere mortal.
The room shook, the sigils burned a blue-ish white colour and there was a slight rumbling sound, her heart raced but she carried on reading from the book. After a bright flash of light, she finally looked up, swallowing hard when her eyes fell on the very confused looking archangel.
"Michael.." She spoke, softly, but her speech slurring due to the alcohol.
"Why?" He looked around the room, glancing at the sigils on the floor. "Why did you summon me?"
"Because.." She looked down, rubbing her arms nervously. "You weren't answering my prayers."
"You told me not too." He took a couple of steps, his eyes locked on the hunter. "You told me not to answer your prayers no matter what." He picked up the almost empty bottle of whiskey from the table. "Especially if you had been drinking." He sighed.
Sammy stayed quiet, chewing on her bottom lip, he eyes locked on the floor, almost like a child would after getting told off.
"I'm disappointed in you, Sammy." Michael said, his voice calm. Sammy flinched. Those words hurt her. It's all she'd hear from her dad when she was younger. "Is this how you pass time between hunts?" He looked up at her and she frowned in confusion.
"What?" She finally found her voice. "Figuring out spells is part of being a hunter…"
"Drinking, Sammy!" He threw the bottle on the floor, smashing it and Sammy flinched again, her eyes squeezing shut. "I mean drinking. You make stupid decisions when you drink."
"Like this one?"
"Like this one.." Michael nodded.
Sammy shook her head and looked up at him, her eyes glazing over with tears and she tried so hard not to let them fall, not to let Michael break the wall she'd built up over the past few months but her lower lip trembled, she knew it wouldn't be long before she let the first tears roll down her cheeks.
"You don't mean that.." She choked out, silently cursing herself for her voice sounding so childlike, so broken. "Look at me and tell me you don't mean that."
"We're over, Sammy. You ended it." His eyes caught hers and they locked their gaze. "You ended it, and for what? For you to slowly kill yourself with alcohol and work on spells from that book?" He picked the book up, the photo drifted to the floor as he did so and it caught Sammy's eye, she flicked her gaze down to it then back up at the angel, she hoped he wouldn't notice.
"The book's stopped me from going insane." She admitted, trying to keep her gaze locked his in hopes to distract him from the photo, but it didn't work.
Michael took a step forward, his foot caught one of the bend corners of the photograph and it slide across the floor, the noise captured his attention and he cast his eyes down, squinting and tilting his head in slight confusion at the shiny piece of paper. He looked at Sammy then back at the photo before crouching to pick it up, examining it.
"Texas.." He spoke in an almost whisper as his fingers glided over the slightly faded photograph. "Why do you still have this?"
Sammy stayed quiet, looking up at the ceiling to stop the tears from falling.
"Sammy, why do you still have this photograph?" He stepped closer to her, clutching the photo in one hand, still casting his gaze back and forth from it to her, in slight disbelief. But still, she stayed quiet, her heart pounded in her chest and her hands shook as she failed miserably at containing the now free falling tears.
"Answer me." Michael's voice was slightly demanding this time, and he stopped right in front of her. She shook her head. "Answer me, Sammy." He repeated, slightly softer this time.
"I like to keep it as a reminder of what could've been. As a punishment of messing up the best thing that ever happened to me. As something that hurts and kicks my emotions back into gear when I'm completely numb." She wiped her tears away furiously and huffed a laugh. "A side dish to go along with the main course of missing the shit outta you because I messed up. I ruined it. I fucked up. Again. And lost..lost the one person who could call me out on my wrong doings without getting a punch in the face in return. The one person who I could laugh with everyday about stupid things. The one person who would put up with my constant need for affection. The first and only person I ever went on vacation with." She gestured to the photograph. "And we were fucking happy. So happy. But I ruined it!" More tears were falling now and she was no longer frozen to the spot. She moved past him and over to her duffle, pulling another bottle of whiskey out of it almost immediately. She twisted the cap and bought the bottle up to her lips, but before she could tip it and drink, Michael was there, pulling it from her grasp.
"Please, don't drink." He put the bottle on the table and looked down at the photograph once more, a small smile spreading across his face as he places it on the small bedside cabinet.
Nothing else was said as he closed the gap between himself and Sammy. With one hand sliding up her neck and the other on her hip, he leaned in and captured her lips with his, kissing her softly. Sammy was shocked for a few moments, any, if not all traces of alcohol clouding her senses felt like it vanished as soon as the angels lips touched hers. Finally, she relaxed, moving her lips with his in perfect rhythm, her hands gripping onto his shirt like she was scared that he was going to get ripped away from her the second she loosens her grip.
Michael slowly side his other hand up, under her top but stopped, almost as if asking for permission. Sammy pulled away from him just enough, her lips brushing across his.
"It's okay." She reassured him. It was more than okay, just from a kiss it felt like everything bad had gone. Only her and Michael mattered. His fingers ghosted across her skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up on end just from the anticipation as he leaned in once more, the kiss, this time, becoming deeper but no more rushed than the last.
She let a soft moan slip from between her lips and her grips finally loosened on his shirt, her hands sliding down and resting on his hip.
Nothing was rushed, it was slow, passionate, even the few steps back to the bed were slow. They fell on top of the thin mattress, fingers popped open buttons, slid open zips and pushed material down, until they were both stripped of their clothing. Michael propped himself up on his elbows, his arms either side of Sammy and looked down at her.
"I made a mistake." He whispered, leaning in to kiss her again, her bottom lip nestled perfectly between his. "I made a mistake not answering your prayers and staying away this long."
Sammy said nothing for a moment, never breaking eye contact with him for the duration of the silence before finally speaking up.
"I made a mistake letting you go. I never stopped loving you, Michael. Never."
He smiled, genuinely, capturing her lips again as his hand smoothed down her body, grasping her thigh gently and pushing her legs apart just enough to tease her with his fingers. Sammy gasped against his lips when she felt his fingers slip into her. She was already wet, her body was already so sensitive. She missed this. She missed Michael and everything about him and now, he was with her, he was there for her to touch, to kiss. So she did just that, she kissed him passionately, delicately as she rolled her hips down against his hand, but he knew it wasn't enough and soon pulled his fingers out of her, moving and settling himself between her legs, his hands holding her hips gently.
Michael pressed his forehead to Sammy's, his lips barely touching hers as he slid into her tight heat, his hands moving from her hips, one going to her hair, the other pulling up her leg to his hip. His thrusts were slow, pulling small whimpers from Sammy, he, himself, moaning softly between admitting his love for her. Sammy's fingers dug into the angels back, not hard, not roughly like they had done in the past, but enough to keep him close, enough so their chests pressed together.
The hand that Michael had in her hair travelled down her body between them until his fingers reached her clit, her head rolled to the side, her muscles were already tightening as he worked his fingers over her clit in time with his slow thrusts, small circular motions, the way he knew she liked, the way that he knew was sure to drive her crazy, the way that always made her come so perfectly. And he wasn't wrong, he kissed her neck as soon as he heard the first cuss fall from her mouth. Cusses turned to desperate whimpers, whimpers turned to moans and her fingers dug in a little harder as her back arched. She moaned his name breathlessly as she hit her peak, her muscles tightening around him and bringing him to completion. He came inside her, biting softly into her neck as he did so, his thrust slowing.
For the next few blissful moments, their gazes locked once again as they rode out their highs, every unsaid "I love you" becoming apparent to the other just through kissing and touching. After that, Michael kept her in his arms, holding her protectively as they laid in silence.
Sammy drummed her fingers gently on his hip as she listened to his heartbeat, something that had soothed her so many times before. She couldn't believe he was actually there, after months of being apart, he was finally there. The soft drumming of her fingers against his flesh and the gently thump of his heart beating against her ear reminded her that this wasn't a dream.
For Michael, the thing that reminded him that this was real, was the photograph that he held in his fingers. The photograph he has placed on the beside table before what could only be described as the best reunion he'd ever had. He looked at the photo and smiled.
He'd just made a silent vow to himself to get his relationship with the woman laying in his arms back to how it was when the photograph was taken. Back to how it should be, how it should've stayed. And he had faith they could accomplish it, they were so in love with each other, after all.