Meanwhile with Sam..
Sam walked away from the hotel, a frown on his face, creasing his forehead. He was happy for his brother, of course, but he had one person on his mind that he just couldn't stop thinking about.
Sarah was so pure and kind for a demon, and it amazed him. He couldn't remember a time when he had been a good person, and it made his heart ache. He walked faster, the sun beating down on him. It was a beautiful day, a day that would usually be spent with Dean and him terrorizing the innocent. Considering Dean was now hitched to an angel, he was sure those days were gone; he honestly wasn't too upset by this. Hell, maybe it would stop the hit-man (well, woman) coming to get him.
He sighed, closing his eyes and feeling a soft pressure push against him as he disappeared to reappear in what seemed to be an... orphanage?
Sam furrowed his brow, looking around in confusion. He had meant to go to Sarah, in hopes of talking to her.
The sound of children's laughter could be heard from a door down the hallway and Sam shuddered uncomfortably. They were much too happy for his taste, and he hated the innocence of those little brats.
He walked towards the sound though, in hopes of finding Sarah.
She was there, sitting criss-cross on the floor with a wide smile on her face, surrounded by happy children as she told a grande story of a princess and her brave prince. Sam watched from the doorway, admiring how her hands moved gracefully in the air while she talked, emphasizing how large the dragon was. Her wavy black hair swished back and forth, glistening in the sunlight cascading in from the window. He stared at her, taking in the dimples that appeared when she laughed and the way her eyes sparkled when she spoke of the princess kissing her prince.
She finished her story, the kids giggling and yelling loudly, spreading out to go play. One came up to Sam, staring inquisitively, and he snarled.
"Scram, kid." He growled at the young girl, who ran away whimpering. Luckily, Sarah had not turned yet; When she finally noticed him, he gave her his most charming smile. She grimaced at him, turning to walk away to a small empty classroom off to the side.
"Great start, Sam." He muttered under his breath, carefully avoiding the disgusting little brats littering the floor as he rushed towards her.
He gently closed the door behind him as he entered the small, empty classroom. The walls were spattered with inspirational bullshit in pretty colors, and Sam choked back a gag as he saw the hand-painted 'art' done by the orphans.
"What do you want?" Sarah asked coldly, staring him down.
"W-well, you said later. This is later. I thought maybe we could talk?" Any confidence that Sam had was rapidly depleting.
She analyzed him as if sizing him up, then relaxed with a small smirk.
"Fine, but only if you help me complete my volunteer hours for the day with the orphans."
Sam groaned despite himself, frowning at the thought of dealing with those snotty little things. There's a reason they're orphans after all.
She headed towards the door slowly, looking over her shoulder at Sam, sarcasm in her voice. "Buuuut if you don't want to talk..."
"Fine! I'll do it." Sam grumbled, holding back his disgust.
"Good. Now c'mon, it's snack time." She opened the door, smiling widely as she rushed over to a couple girls, letting them put their sticky fingers in her hair. Sam flinched.
How could someone so beautiful also be so amazing? Sam didn't understand it. He felt more evil than ever, and he hated it. He wanted to be good, honestly, but when he looked at the kids he had an urge to force them to kill one another in death matches, as him and Dean had done on several Christmases.
A little boy, only four years old, hobbled up to Sam, hazel eyes wide and curly ginger hair framing his small face.
"You're tall." He said simply, never looking away from Sam. Hell, the kid wasn't even blinking.
"Err.. yeah." Sam shifted uncomfortably.
"That's cool." The kid spoke again, continuing to stare. Sam went to walk away, but the kid followed.
"Umm.. Can I help you?" Sam cocked an eyebrow at the child.
"My name's Dean." The young boy stated.
Sam raised his other eyebrow. "Of all the fucking coincidences..." He muttered to himself.
"Y'know you're not s'posed to say that word." Little Dean's eyes widened a bit more.
"Yeah, well, I'm an adult. I can do what I want." Sam turned away again, walking over to the small 'library' (filled with picture books) the kids had. Little Dean (as Sam was going to refer to him as) followed, just one step behind, never breaking gaze with Sam's head.
"What's your name?"
"Sam."
"You're hair is long. That's girly."
Sam's face turned a bit red in frustration. "Guys can have long hair too." He snapped. A woman came out then, pushing a cart with milk cartons and cookies.
"Can you get me snack?" Little Dean asked Sam, cocking his head to the side.
"Fine." Sam grumbled, leaving and returning with a milk and three cookies. The kid took them, nibbling on a cookie as he continued to stare at Sam.
"So what's with the staring thing you got going on here?" Sam asked, fidgeting once more.
"Wanna cookie?" The boy handed one out to Sam.
"Um.. sure." Sam took the cookie awkwardly, taking a bite out of it.
"Your eyes are funny." Little Dean said. "They're not normal."
Sam snapped his head to attention at this. He was certain that he was using his vessel's normal eyes at the moment.
"Sarah has weird eyes too. Is she your sister?" The boy said, unphased.
Sam bit into the cookie nervously. "Something like that." Kids are frikkin creepy.
"Oh." The boy paused to take a sip of milk. "Will you read me a story?"
"What? No!" Goddamn this kid.
Little Dean stared at Sam intently, lip puffing out a bit in a small pout. There was silence for several long, awkward moments.
"Ugh fine! Pick a book." The boy smiled widely then wandered over to the bookshelf, finally breaking gaze with Sam. He came back with a book "The Ugly Duckling". Sam grimaced at the cover with cute little yellow ducks on it. He had never heard of this book, but he hated it already.
He sighed as the boy curled up next to Sam, who was resting in a bean bag in the corner.
Sam opened the book and read "Once upon a time down on an old farm, lived a duck family, and Mother Duck had been sitting on a clutch of new eggs."
The boy cuddled closer to Sam, and Sam leaned into the innocent warmth slightly.
He continued to read, actually enjoying the story (though he wouldn't admit it). He read even after Little Dean had fallen asleep on him.
"'We don't know anyone as ugly as you.' The ugly duckling did not lose heart, however, and kept on making inquiries." Sam read, frowning at the young ducklings treatment. The duckling was like him in many ways, and it made him uncomfortable.
"'Look at that young swan! He's the finest of them all!' And he almost burst with happiness." Sam finished, a small smile on his face. Little Dean was snoring softly, head curled on Sam's chest. Sam laid back his head and drifted off also. Hell, maybe not all orphans are bad.
Sam started an hour later, Little Dean nowhere to be seen. Sarah was standing over him, a warm smile on her face.
"Where are the kids?" Sam looked around, rubbing his stiff neck. Sleeping on a bean bag was a bad idea.
"They went to their rooms for nap time about twenty minutes ago." Sarah said, bending down to pick up several toys, throwing them into the toybox.
"You could've told me." Sam blushed slightly.
"You seemed peaceful. How do you that, that fake sleeping thing?" She inquired.
"Oh, just lots of practice. I kinda just wipe my mind and daze off. It's pretty close to sleep, except you don't dream." He shrugged, helping to clean up the play area.
"Man, I miss sleep." She frowned.
"Yeah. You get used to it, I guess."
"I don't want to. It reminds me that I was a human, with a life and I cared. I still care, and I always will. You've forgotten that feeling, Sam Winchester." She eyed him, walking closer.
"I could remember." His forehead creased, and he thought of the feel of Little Dean on his chest.
"I think you can too. There's good in you Sam." She twined her fingers into his, smiling at him. He felt himself start to slowly lean in, drawn forward by her beautiful eyes. She leaned back, breaking away.
"So, Britney said that we have something in common last time I saw you. What did she mean?" She inquired, raising a curious eyebrow.
Sam shook his head softly, snapping back into himself. "Oh, um. Just the way we became demons."
She sat in a small plastic chair at a round table. "Ooh story time!" She grinned, patting the chair beside her. Sam sat down, his giant limbs looking even bigger in the minuscule colorful seat. Sarah laughed, her lovely dimples lighting up her face.
"Well. Firstly, I'm over a thousand years old. I was born in the year 987 in what is now England. Things were so much different then, it's startling. And people were much more superstitious. Well, our mother was dying of typhus. Our father had abandoned us at birth, so she was all Dean and I had. I was thirteen at the time, and I was really into reading. I knew a lot about lore. So, I made a deal. I got ten years, my mom got a clean bill of health." He paused, sighing deeply.
"Dean, being protective as he is, freaked out on me when he found out. He turned to witchcraft in an attempt to save me, using dark magic. Of course, it didn't work. They came for me and took me, and Dean followed after a few months. He was killed in a drunken fight, and went straight to Hell. We spent a century being tortured, until we were finally made the torturers. We popped up occasionally, studying the art and history making itself, but when we finally left Hell for good, a new country was forming: America. We came over with the pilgrims, happily raking down savages. Then we just kinda blended in, took our old names, kept these vessels. Lived on and moved up the ranks."
"That's really incredible. You are old as fuck." She grinned at Sam, who smirked back.
"That's right, little girl." Sam teased. She punched him on the arm gently.
"I can see how you could lose yourself among all of that." She whispered, face suddenly solemn. "But you can find yourself again, Sam. You can be that kid that threw away his life to help his mother. I believe it." And with that, she disappeared.
Sam went to leave the orphanage, passing by the male sleeping quarters. He paused and searched for the boy, finding him quickly. He brushed the ginger hair out of Little Dean's face, a small smile on his lips.
Maybe, one day, Sam would want a kid after all.