There Is Nothing Past Or Present That I Would Put In Front Of You
A Wincest FanFiction (Set During Season 8)
Just Sam. Always Sam.
:-:
His skin is wet with the sweat of us, gleaming in the dim light of the motel sign outside the window. We stopped ordering twin beds months ago; there seemed little point when we would always end up in one together anyway.
Amelia. He never says her name and I never give him a chance to remember her. Purgatory has not changed me – it has just made me more of who I am. More of a fighter: more determined to fight for what I love and protect. It took everything in me not to pounce on him the second he walked into that cabin. But once the Holy water had been spilled and blood had been shed, I couldn't get my hands on him quick enough.
He sleeps more restfully these days; I remember after Jess how he would toss and turn in his sleep, tears decorating his unconscious face. I wanted to crawl in with him even then; soften the blow somehow. But I knew I had to wait until he was ready. I think it was selling my soul that clinched things – told him just how far I was willing to go. How much I loved him. He must have sat on the notion for a good year, because when I got back from hell he jumped me quicker than I could say "Sasquash".
It was a slow affair, and something I would never be fully comfortable owning up to until I escaped from purgatory. Maybe we had died too many times by then; been torn apart more times than our hearts could handle. Hence the double bed and constant skin on skin.
Which leads us to now – with me licking the sweat off him as he sleeps, stirring beneath me. The angels themselves will fall before I give this up. Our world may not be safe, and our lives may not be moral, but here – with his arms around me – I am home. And it feels awesome, lying at the precipice of Death itself and screaming at it to come at me – this time I have something to live for.