Sam fucking Winchester everyone. He was a real human being somehow, a real one. Not the one who you just hear, not the one who you just see. The real one that you can feel, physically, emotionally, and mentally. He plays with your head like its a god damn yo-yo.
"Sam!"
She screamed, almost ripping her half dead, snow white hair out of her delicate scalp. She gritted her teeth angrily and felt the blood scurry around in her body to reach her blueing fingertips, trying to relieve the pressure. She stared at him, with so much passion, and storm, it sort of scared him. He stopped all his movements, like annoyed huffs and sighs, violent hand flicks, everything stopped. He waited, patiently.
"Where the hell were you back there."
She spoke out, quietly in the old impala. It wasn't moving luckily, or else they would have crashed at the movement of Sam whipping his face and body around to face her. He puffed out his chest, stretched his shoulders as an act to look bigger, holding back only a little.
"What do you mean?"
He said. No anger, no sadness, no annoyance in his voice. No feeling at all, just one tone of, nothing really.
"I mean, you were there, but your fucking brain wasn't."
She shouted out, sparking the energy level back up from a 4 to about a 17. He closed his eyes for a moment before he opened them back up to stare at her expressive face.
"You went in guns blazing, you dumbass."
She scuffed.
"Didn't listen to me, once again, and almost got us killed, once again."
She muttered out, but clear enough for Sam to hear. He wanted to yell, to scream at her, but he knew she was way too strong to take that shit, she would just yell back, but louder. He thinks that is the reason he loves her, is because she is so strong, maybe because she makes up for some of his own weakness.
"Sam?"
She whispered. He still looked at her, keen, and eager.
"What's wrong with you?"
She asked, noticing how his mood changed once again in the short amount of time they had gotten out of the house, filled to the brim with bodies, and into the car that had been idling out front waiting for them. First, he was mad, and then understanding and now he just looked awfully depressed.
"Nothing."
He said as he finally took his eyes away from hers and looked down at his bloodied hands. He gulped back some blood that was silently swirling around in his mouth and he exhaled loudly, trying to let the stress and anxiety leave his body. Something was up.
"Bullshit, do you want to tell me or not?"
Yup, that's why he loved her. For what ever Sam didn't have, Billie made up for it, plus extra. The strength, the forwardness and the curse words. Sometimes it bothered him when she was so forward, but he knew if she wasn't as assertive as she was, she would not know half the crap she knows about him.
"Not really."
He said as he looked back up at his lover of 2 years. She rolled her eyes so hard all he saw was white, for second he thought she was Lilith, but then her brown eyes peered back out and he felt the smallest wave of relief. He smirked.
"It's because, you've put it in your head, that what ever demons say, is true, right?"
She said with many pauses and short breaths. Sam unwrinkled his forehead and caught a glimpse of her bloodied hands as she unzipped her wrinkled, blue canvas jacket.
"Sam, Demons lie, all the damn time."
Sometimes, she really sounded like, Dean.
"I know they torture in hell, but they don't make the tortured become the one to do the torturing."
She said softly, wanting to see through the lie she was telling. She needed to believe it too, not only for Sam, but for her.
"Yeah I'm not sure about that one."
He uttered.
"Sam, Dean is strong-"
She began but Sam had to correct her quickly.
"Was, strong. He was strong."
He said. Billie shut her little mouth and big eyes, feeling his hurt, and his agony hit her guts like a little ole' bullet would.
"He was strong here, and I have no doubt he is strong down there."
Hearing her say that, tore Sam open a little more than the last time she said 'down there'. She couldn't say hell, she just couldn't, and he knew that.
"Look at me."
She demanded in a, rather polite tone. Sam didn't even realize he was still staring at her hands, so he looked up at the gorgeous girl sitting shotgun in the infamous car. He smirked ever so slightly when he noticed her own smirk she always rocked.
"I know it's easier said than done, but please, don't think anything of it baby."
She whispered as he reached her blood covered hand up to cup his warm, prickly cheek.
"It may not be true, so don't let it get to you."
She said. Sam broke his smirk to allow a soft smile and he pressed his hand up against Billie's hand on his cheek, the warmth dancing everywhere.
"Okay."
He said. He shut his eyes quickly, but when he opened them, Billie's face was closer to his. He could feel her heated breaths, and see every little freckle that danced on her sweet, sweet face.
"I love you."
He murmured. Billie smiled and took a deep breath in.
"I love you too, ocean eyes."
She didn't hold back. Sam was able to move his body closer to her and wrap his free hand around her slim waist.
"Why, do you always call me that. Ocean eyes?"
He asked, Billie tilted her head, wondering why it took him this long to finally ask that. That was her pet name for him, and he never questioned it, until now.
"Don't people who have blue eyes get called that?"
He asked. Billie nodded and studied his curious little face.
"I have green eyes, so, why call me that?"
Billie smiled and removed her hand from is warm cheek. She slowly dragged her fingers down his neck to his chest, and played with the hem of his black t-shirt peeking out from beneath his green coloured flannel.
"Well, people usually call people who have bright blue eyes, ocean eyes, just because they look like the ocean."
She started. She sneakily moved her hands down Sams body and slowly unbuttoned every button of his flannel.
"But for me, it means, anyone with eyes that you can easily get lost in, has ocean eyes."
She said as she took his flannel off and left him with only his t-shirt on, just where she wanted him.
"When I think of the ocean, I think of this great, body of water, so big and so unexplored. When I think about it, I think of getting lost."
Before they knew it, each of their shirts had been removed and the were left sitting with the cold air tickling their backs.
"And Sam, when I look into your eyes, I get so damn lost."
She said as she reached around her back to unclasp her bra and let her breasts fall out. Sam stared at them, as he always did. When he looked back up at her, she smiled.
"I get so lost, and scared sometimes, and think to myself, well what the fuck do I do now."
She leaned forward, so their lips were no more than a penny's width apart.
"This boy's got me. He's got me around his little finger. I'm so lost, that he's gotta show me the way back."
Once she was done speaking, the were all over each other. Kissing aggressively and feeling each other all over, going to their favourite spots.
Sam Winchester was one guy, who played those mind games with you, without even knowing it. With one long stare with his ocean eyes, you will always be there.