Disclaimer: Sadly, I do not own Supernatural or any of it's characters.
Summary: Sam Winchester had a secret…but this was different, because Sam had been harboring this secret for twelve years. Some spoilers for "It's The Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester."
Of Past Regret And Future Fear
Sam Winchester had a secret. Of course, this was nothing new. He had been keeping a lot of things to himself lately, a fact which his brother never failed to point out. But this was different, because Sam had been harboring this secret for twelve years. He and Dean have been working with Castiel for a while now, and he remembered with shame the day he encountered the angel when they were trying to destroy the witch to prevent the raising of Samhain. What Dean didn't know, however, was that that was not the first time he had met him. Sam was fourteen when he was introduced to the holy creature. He was walking home late from a friend's house one crisp night. His father was out of town, and Dean was at a "study session" with some girl from school. As he was crossing the street, he failed to notice the SUV with the busted headlights barreling towards him. The chilling sound of a body hitting dried tar and the squealing of tires as the unknown driver sped away seemed to go unnoticed in the still night. As Sam's body lay broken and dying in an ever-growing puddle of moonlit blood, a lone figure appeared. He seemed to have walked from the air itself, striding toward the boy with the presence of a man of whom time has stood still. He knelt down next to Sam and placed a hand over his dying heart, trying to glimpse his soul. As he did, a grim expression overtook his face, and he heisted a moment before coming to his decision. Whispering a quick prayer, he used the gift his Father gave him to heal the boy. A burning heat engulfed Sam's body, and just as quickly as it had come, it was gone. His eyes shot open and he sat up quickly, coming face to face with the mysterious stranger. This made the man uncomfortable and he stood up, his tan trench coat fluttering in the breeze. Sam slowly looked up at him. A flurry of questions buzzed in his head, but all that came out of his mouth was, "Who are you?"
"My name is Castiel," he said. He paused for a second, then continued. "I am an angel of God." Sam sat there, bewildered. He couldn't seem to wrap his mind around the concept. Before he could reply, Castiel said, "I know what you are, Sam Winchester. I know of the curse that is buried deep within you. I must ask that when the time comes when you must make your choice that you do not choose the dark path, no matter how tempting it may seem. I fear the consequences that may arise should you choose the wrong path. Do not make me regret saving you." There was the sound of beating wings, and Sam was left alone and confused on the cold street.
Sam never told anyone what happened that night. Not even Dean. He wasn't sure why he kept it concealed. At first he thought it was all a dream, but he knew in his heart that it was real, and felt it was something for only him to know. There were times when he wanted to tell Dean, but he wasn't sure if he would believe him. Though maybe if he did, his brother would finally understand why he had so much faith. But in the end he kept quiet. So he prayed everyday to the angel who had given him a second chance. When his brother went to Hell, he prayed for a way to help save him. But no help ever came. So Sam plotted his revenge against the demon who had taken his last family from him. When Dean was resurrected, Sam was so blinded by his need for vengeance that he never stopped to think that something good might have saved his brother. In fact, he completely forgot about the soldier from Heaven until Pamela uttered his name during the séance, when they were trying to contact the creature that had dragged Dean from the pit. When he heard the name again, his heart nearly stopped. He tried to convince himself it wasn't the being he had met so long ago, but he was only kidding himself. He knew it was the angel. And he was scared.
When he and his brother walked through their motel room door, he exclaimed at the sight of the two holy warriors. As Castiel turned to face them, Sam's body froze. He vaguely heard Dean talking, but he couldn't get his mind to focus. Finally, the haziness seemed to dissipate. Not wanting Dean to think something was wrong, he held out his hand to the angel in front of him. The man stared at him with cold eyes and said, "Sam Winchester. The boy with the demon blood." And with that one sentence, dripping with disgust, Sam's fears were realized and he felt a heavy weight settle on his soul. The thing was, he had finally figured out what Castiel tried to tell him that dark, cold night; had figured out the curse of which he spoke of was the poison that pumped through his veins. He was given a choice of how to handle this curse, and after Dean had caught him with Ruby and discovered what he could do, he realized he had chosen wrong. Castiel had warned Sam not to make him regret saving him. It only took one look into the angel's disappointed eyes to realize that he did.