Here's a little prompt fill from tumblr (feel free to follow me there magnoliasam if you want to give me ficlet prompts). The prompt was: Could you write something with Sam having a vision? It can be early seasons or now, maybe having Jack around reawakens his powers?
This was written in under half an hour without much editing, just so you know. I hope you like it anyway!
It feels like something sharp and white-hot has been jammed into his brain. Needles in his head, dissecting the angel inside. It takes a moment for his vision to settle, to shift entirely from what-is-yet-to-happen to what-is-currently-happening.
He sees the grey subway tiled walls of the bunker's hallways, an overhead lamp's bright light jabs at his stinging eyes. He's on the ground, slumped up against the wall. A wave of dizziness attempts to knock him all the way to the ground, but Sam manages to stick his hand out to catch his balance.
Pain tears at his palm. He lifts his hand and finds it dribbling blood. Something wet is seeping into his jeans. Beer, smashed bottles across the floor. Right. He was sent to collect beer from the fridge. He only made it a few steps from the kitchen before the future came rushing through his head.
"Sam?" Deep and rusty-toned. Cas. He crouches beside Sam, the toes of his perfectly shined shoes just shy of touching the beer spill.
"I'm okay," Sam says, although the words struggle to make it past his clenched teeth. His stomach turns, threatening to purge his breakfast.
Cas pulls him back onto his feet, doesn't seem to mind bearing Sam's weight on his shoulders as they shuffle back towards the library. Sam plays what he saw through his mind, latches onto it so he doesn't forget anything important. Red eyes. Red hair. Detroit, 5 miles ahead. "But they're my friends," in Jack's hesitant voice.
Sam's eyes droop but he forces them back open. He could sleep right here, vertical with nothing but Castiel to prop him up. The visions used to be painful when he was 22, but he's 12 years older (192 years older) and now they knock him on his ass and pummel him into the dirt. He can't bounce back like he used to.
"How long does it take to get a couple of beers?" Dean asks when he hears them coming, but the moment he looks up his face drops. "What happened?" he demands, hurrying over to pull Sam's other arm across his shoulders.
Together, the two of them lower Sam into a chair. They stand waiting, looming at Sam's sides as he presses the heels of his hands into his eyes. It's too fucking bright in here. Someone must notice because when he dares to peel back his eyelids the lights have been dimmed.
"Vision," Sam explains unnecessarily. They've all seen enough of them the past few months. No one knows why they came back. It could be because of Jack's presence in the world, it could be because of Lucifer's ongoing stay topside, it could be because he's had his head beaten in countless times. They don't know. All Sam knows is that it sucks.
"What did you see?" Cas asks. He's trying to be patient, but Sam can hear the urgency in his voice. Sam has been like a compass lately, guiding them where they need to go. To wherever Lucifer took Jack.
"Detroit," Sam says. "I think. It was just flashes. Detroit, five miles ahead."
"It had to be fucking Detroit," Dean spits, shaking his head. "Listen, Sam, you don't have to - "
"I do," Sam cuts him off. "It's Jack. He wouldn't leave me behind, I'm not leaving him."
"But - "
"I know," Sam says. He understands, he really does. He knows what Dean's afraid of. "I won't let anything happen. It's different this time."
But history has made a habit of repeating itself lately. It was always supposed to happen in Detroit.
A/N: Before anyone asks, no I probably won't write any more for this. I'm still working on Little Green Soldiers (not sure when I'll update), and I've also signed up for the TFW Big Bang so I'm writing that and will probably post it some time in Autumn. Thanks for reading!
