It was never going to happen...I don't care what the fuckin hell I promised. Sam could beg, plead, yell or never talk to me again (huh, now there's a thought), but I'd be damned if I was going to keep that

bullshit promise. How the hell could he ask me to do that? It would've been bad enough if he had asked when we only had the connection of being brothers. How could he ask me to put him down, now that

we were also lovers? He doesn't have a fucking clue just how bad he's screwed up, because now I'm beyond angry.

I was aggravated when I woke up to find him missing after he swore he would give me time to figure this mess out. I worried that he would do something stupid, cause God knows it runs in the family,

apparently. Ellen finally told me where he was...I may have to put her back on my Christmas list this year. When I caught up to him he was hanging with some chick and okay, that's not making me to damn

happy, but at least he was in one piece, so I could breath without this pain in my chest. Course, as usual I spoke the hell too soon. What the fuck, somebody's shooting at him?! I swear when I get my hands

on his ass he's not going to be able to sit for a month.

I made my way to the roof and guess who it is, Good Old Gordy. He must not be too happy with the way we said goodbye last time, knew I should have shot his ass. Gordon though, doesn't seem to

understand why I take such offense to him trying to shoot my brother in the head and unfortunately for me, I haven't had a hell of a lot of sleep since Sam bounced and damn if I'm not getting tired of gun butts

to the head. When I come to I'm tied to a chair and ain't this a fine mess we have here. I'm thinking psycho Gordon may be a little sweet on me since he only seemed to want to use me as bait. Shit, I'm never

going to live this down. He's going on and on about how once Sam is taken care of I'll understand it was for the best…blah, blah, blah. I must say he sure didn't like me talking about his mama though. When

Sam came through that door and the first grenade went off all I could do was hold my breath and beg, plead, barter my soul for him to be okay. Gordon just sat there, impassive, waiting while I was falling

apart inside, then the second grenade exploded and I felt like it had blown my heart right out of my chest. I nearly choked trying to scream Sam's name. I never thought that hearing flesh hit flesh would be

such a beautiful sound. Then Sam was in front of me, he untied me, checking out my injuries as he did. When he finally stood up and I caught a glimpse of the blood, I grabbed him by the back of the head and

turned his face so I could see how much damage had been done. Son of a bitch, I'm going to kill him, nobody hurts what's mine and lives to talk about it, especially not twice, damn it. But no, Sam the

supposed soon-to-be monster, wouldn't let me kill him, says he has it taken care of. I must admit Gordon's face when all the cops show up while he's firing the gun all over the place is pretty fucking priceless.

Sam was so worried about Ava. Yea, he explained, he better be damn glad it was good too, cause when I finally do get the time to take it out of his ass, he won't be feeling that added to his punishment. We

headed to her house, when all I wanted to do was crash for a week. Holy shit, what the hell happened here? Exactly who is this girl you've been hanging with? I swear Sam's pick of female companionship

lately has sucked. First there was Meg who, lets face it, was nine kinds of crazy...okay, okay she was possessed but still, and now this. Did the damn demon take her, or did it turn her? The poor sap laying

in an ever growing puddle (boy is that an understatement) of blood must have been the fiancé. Sucks for him, and, shit, Sam found sulfur. This just keeps getting better and better. We spend a month looking

for her when Sam decides it's time to pick up a gig and okay, that's cool but who the hell is this person in front of me cause he's speaking English, but hell if it's words he usually uses.

So now we are at this creepy ass hotel that could have come straight out of a psycho slasher movie and people just keep dying. However, Sam decides it's a fine time to get drunk and I'm beyond pissed at

this point. Since we made a point of telling Susan that we were not a couple I can't fulfill that taking it out of his ass promise right now. We usually don't give a shit about the motel owners when we sign in, but

this is Connecticut and not some hole in the wall, in the middle of nowhere hotel and although she seemed cool with it, there are just some places you have to be more careful than others. Anyway, here Sam

is, drunk as hell and calling me bossy and short, the little shit, I swear when this one is over he is so going to regret that last comment. I'm trying to get him to bed without him breaking any antiques or any

more body parts, when he has the nerve, in his drunken stupor, to beg me to kill him if he turns.

What the fuck? No way in hell, but he just keeps begging with those damn puppy dog eyes and grabbing my face and pleading that he doesn't want to hurt anyone and he especially doesn't want to hurt me.

So I do the unthinkable and promise, hoping that when he wakes up in the morning with a hangover from hell that he won't remember a damn thing.

Now here I am four hours, later beyond angry because not only does he remember, but he calls me on it too. I have never broken a promise to Sam in my life but this one this one may be my first. In my heart

I know that there is no way the man I love more than my life will ever turn. He just doesn't have it in him to be evil, an ass sometimes, yes, but not demon-spawn evil. So even if the unimaginable happens this

will be a promise that I won't keep, at least not in the context in which he made me promise it, because by God and the demons that want Sam so bad, if he looses this battle, we loose it together.