Yeah, I know I said it was a one-off, but I forgotten that I'd written this in one of my notebooks, and with minimal editing, it fit too well. Then my brain went mental, and a plot beast rose that couldn't be denied. So away we go.

Set after Supernatural Season 5 finale 'Swan Song'. All you need to know, as previous chapter indicated, is that Faith and Dean had a relationship previously. Everything else, I'll leave you to figure out.


"You want to hate him. You want to scream and curse and expel all that rage that has built in you for all that time. Vent your anger.

But you don't.

Because nothing will change.

The past will still be the same, and he will still have chosen her and the de facto family that came with her. Over you. A wife and son over passion and love. Because that is the way that life is. The way that the world is. Security wins over the unknown almost every time. It's horrible, and it's sad and it's unfair, but it just is. Can't be helped now. Can't be changed. You may be changed by being party to it all, but the world isn't, and God only knows if your change is for the better." Sam paused and touched a finger to Faith's temple, and she could see them. Dean and Lisa and the boy, Ben. They were sat around the coffee table in her living room, playing a board game.

"Stop," she didn't want to beg, would do anything not to beg, but she couldn't stand it. Lucifer playing with the truth to make her suffer. Well damn him, it was working. She knew there was no way out. He'd trapped her. Used Sam's knowledge to lure her there and then used it again to torture her. She hadn't spoken to Giles in over a week, Dean in much more than that. No one was coming to save her. No one knew where she was.

There was no way out.

He pulled his hand away and smoothed back her hair.

"I'm here to help you, Faith. To give you and Dean a chance to be together. It's what you both want."

"Not like this," she whispered. Rope cut into her wrists as it was pulled tighter, more secure. Sam crouched before her and watched. He cupped her face in his hands, so soft, so gentle, so like Sam that Faith felt as if she was going to choke on it.

"Good luck," he planted a kiss on her forehead, feather light and chaste, before the shadow behind her came into her vision. A girl, petite, blonde. She sat down in the chair facing Faith's.

Than the smoke came.

And Faith was gone.