Sam had gotten himself into some bad situations before. Really, he wasn't quite as innocent as his brother liked to suppose.
But now he was at Arthur the quarterback's party and Dean went home with Cas—honestly, he needed to talk to Dean about what his true sexual orientation might be—and Jess had work in the morning, so she left too and he told her he would find a ride and then—god, he was stupid—he mentioned to Maddie that he didn't have a ride home. Sam was lucky—or extremely unlucky, depending on how you thought about it—that she was about the only person that hadn't been drinking that was still at the party.
So here Sam was, sitting in the car with Maddie as she drove him home. Her hand was on the gear shift and it was kind of ridiculous how much he wanted to grab it.
He kept trying to remind himself that he had a girlfriend. A girlfriend he liked a lot, in fact. They talked about going to Stanford together and he was happy about it. But when he looked at her… he just saw the flames. Her on the ceiling. And he couldn't help but feel like his future with her was going to be like that. With her dead.
But Maddie wasn't going to die. In fact, she was really sweet, and she was so much fun at work. She was so good with the dogs, it was almost like she spoke their language. And sometimes she would go and pick up food and bring enough back for both of them and they would talk about how Sam was considering going to law school and how she wouldn't mind if she just worked with the dogs for the rest of her life and somehow, Sam really liked that about her. Jess was kind of like him, always wanting to have a plan, make a list. But Maddie, she just kind of did what she wanted.
Like, in this case, drive the very not single and mildly intoxicated Sam home.
"Hey, Sam, how've you been lately?" she asked at one point.
"Oh, fine," he muttered.
"I just mean, you've seemed really tired."
Man, how weird was he acting if everybody was noticing?
"Yeah, I'm not really sleeping," he said. He was kind of surprised he told her so quickly, since Jess had to ask for weeks before he finally admitted it. Maybe it was the alcohol.
"Nightmares?" she asked.
"Yeah, actually. How'd you know? You're so smart!"
She giggled before replying, "Oh, I get them sometimes too. Not much, but I get that. But you seem better now."
"Yeah, Dean told me I needed to get some rest at school today and took me home."
"That was nice of him," she said. Wow, and she wasn't insulting Dean either. That was nice.
"You're pretty," Sam told her seriously.
She bit her lip, smiling. "How much did you drink, Sam Winchester?"
"Oh… you know… not much."
"Yeah. Seems like it. Hey, we're parked, maybe I should take you inside."
"Take me to my room? I'd like that. Because, honestly, I really like you."
She opened her mouth a little bit, like she was going to say something, then shut it again. "Aren't you with Jess?"
"Oh… yeah, but I always imagine her on fire now."
"Excuse me?"
"Whoa, that didn't come out right. I mean I keep having nightmares about her dying and it's super depressing."
"Oh," she muttered. "I see. Sam, you're drunk. You should get inside."
"I'd way rather make out with you."
Sam realized, somewhere inside, that all the things he was saying were things that were better left in his head, but he just couldn't shut up.
"Sam… come on, get inside," she said, coming around the car and opening his door. She helped him up, trying to support him even though he was a lot bigger than her. He was trying to walk straight, but it wasn't working. He hadn't thought he was that drunk, but he was finding he didn't have much control over anything he was doing at that moment.
They were at the door and he looked down at her. She was so damn pretty. So he leaned in and kissed her.
"Sam, I promise, you're going to regret that in the morning," she said. "You're a great guy, and honestly, I'd date you if I got the chance, but you have a girlfriend and you're happy with her. So I'm gonna go, okay?"
"Okay. See you later!"
He went in the door and stood there for a minute.
Then he blinked. What the hell had he just done?
God, he'd just kissed Maddie.
That was really bad.
And awesome.
And BAD.
And still awesome.
He grumbled something about drinking being bad as he fumbled his way up the stairs. It was two in the morning, but he needed to talk to Dean about what had just happened. So he opened the door and…
"Oh," he muttered out loud. Dean was asleep in his bed, but he wasn't alone. Dean had his arm draped around Cas. Neither of them were wearing shirts, but he was just praying they were wearing pants under the sheets.
He shut the door again before either of them woke up.
He stood out there for a minute, not knowing what to think. He had been internally joking about Dean being gay… but he wasn't actually gay, was he?
He decided that all that thinking could wait til the morning. He got to his bed and fell down onto it, instantly asleep.
Sam, Madison Owens, and Dean are all in an apartment. They all look older, just like usual. Sam's even bigger and Madison's more beautiful than before.
Maddie's crying. The real Sam is watching the scene from the side.
"Sam, I don't wanna hurt anyone else. I don't wanna hurt you," Madison says. Then she gets out a gun and brings it to him.
Sam, dream Sam, looks horrified. "Put that down."
"I can't do it myself. I need you to help me," she insists.
"Madison, no," Sam whimpers.
Somehow, Maddie looks sad and resigned at the same time. "Sam…I'm a monster."
He shakes his head. "You don't have to be. We can find a way, all right? I can. I'm gonna save you."
Maddis starts to cry harder. "You tried. I know you tried. But this is all there is left. Help me, Sam. I want you to do it. I want it to be you."
Sam looks a little like he can't breath. "I can't."
Madison swallows. "I don't wanna die. I don't. But I can't live like this. This is the way you can save me. Please. I'm asking you to save me."
Sam looks at her, a completely tortured look in his eyes. Then Dean approaches them, taking the gun from Madison. Sam walks into the kitchen and Dean follows.
Dean is just staring at Sam. "Sam. I'm sorry," he says, as if he wishes there was more to say.
Sam is trying hard not to cry, but is not succeeding. "No, you're right. She's right."
Dean gives Sam a look he recognizes, but maybe even more intense than he had ever seen. A protective look, when Dean was in big-brother mode. "Sammy, I got this one. I'll do it."
"She asked me to," Sam says stubbornly.
"You don't have to."
"Yes, I do," he says. "Please." He holds his hand out, and, after a hesitation, Dean hands it to him. "Just wait here."
Sam is about to go into the other room, but he takes one desperate look back at his big brother, tears rolling down his face. Somehow, even in this much agony, there is a look of resignation on Sam's face, as if he's very used to pain.
Dean looks upset too, as if all he wants is to know the right words to say, but there's just nothing coming to him.
Sam walks into the other room. Real-Sam tries to see what happens, but he's stuck watching Dean.
Dean looks like he's on the verge of tears, which Sam has never seen before. He's almost sad Dream-Sam is missing it.
Then, just as the tear threatening in Dean's eye falls, there's a gunshot. Dean flinches at the sound.
"No!" Sam bellowed, awaking feeling distinctly like he couldn't breathe.
What the hell? Now Maddie too? And why did the stupid dreams feel more like premonitions than dreams?
Sam was sitting in his bed, his knees tucked into his chest, when the door opened and Dean rushed in. The look on his face was so much like in the dream that Sam began to cry harder.
"Whoa, Sammy, Sammy, it's okay!" Dean soothed, coming over to the bed. "Another nightmare?" Sam nodded, unable to speak. "You wanna talk about it?"
"Dean, I think everyone I love is going to die."
Dean met his eyes, looking appalled. "Why would you say that?"
"These dreams are real, Dean!"
"Now, Sammy—"
"No, I'm serious! They're real! First I saw mom, and then I'm seeing how Jess is gonna die, and then now Maddie."
"Maddie was on the ceiling?" Dean asked sadly.
"No! I fucking shot her, Dean! You were there! You were going to do it, but then I asked for the gun, and I shot her!" His voice cracked at the end.
Dean blinked a few times, backing up. Sam had honestly never seen Dean look that concerned about someone in his life. "Sammy, you could never shoot anyone. And I would never let you. Come on, it's okay. You just need to breathe."
Sam spent the next twenty minutes trying to breath, then another ten to stop crying. Dean stayed there the whole time, but said nothing.
"Now, you listen to me, Sammy. These dreams are just that: dreams. You can't think on them anymore, okay? We're gonna talk to dad tomorrow, about the other dream, okay? But for now, you can't sleep anymore."
"I can't just not sleep."
"Just until morning. We'll go downstairs and watch movies."
"What about Cas?"
Dean looked at the ground. "He's asleep."
"I saw you… kind of cuddling. What was up with that?"
Dean looked like he was going to say something rude, but then sat back down. "I don't really know, Sam. I'm not sure what's happening. But I'm happy."
Sam smiled, without having to try for the first time in days. "Then good. As long as you're happy," Sam replied.
Dean smiled gratefully, maybe because Sam wasn't asking any more questions. "Now it's time to cheer you up. Come on, down the stairs. Bring some movies. Action ones that'll keep you awake!"
Hey, just as a behind the scenes note for people who actually got this far in my story, writing what happened in the end of Heart (episode 2.17) was so sad that I started crying! Man, they are good writers.
Thanks so much for those of you that actually made it to chapter ten. It means a lot to me. Hope you continue to read and enjoy!
Now, please, do me one more favor and tell me what you think of it so far.