Heat of the moment played.

Kim's phone rang.

They sat in the same diner, in the same spot and eating the same meals telling the same stories.

"I still think you're nuts, but whatever this is, we'll figure it out," Dean said, looking at his brother.

"Thanks,"

"So. Uh. You're stuck in Groundhog Day. Why? What's behind it?" Kim asked, looking at Sam.

"Well, first I thought it was the Mystery Spot. Now I'm not so sure." Sam explained, again.

"What do we do?" Dean asked, looking for instructions.

"Try to keep you breathing, try to make it to tomorrow. That's the only thing I can think of."

"Shouldn't be too hard." Dean shrugged, along with Kim.

"Yeah, right, Dean, I've watched you die a few times now and I can't ever seem to stop it. Kim can't either."

"Well, nothing's set in stone. You said I order the same thing every day, right?" Dean asked and Sam nodded.

"Yeah. Pig in a poke, side of bacon," he turned to Kim, "Eggs Benedict." Dean turned to Doris and smiled,

"'Scuse me, sweetheart," Dean said with a smirk. Doris turned around and smiled at him. "Can I get sausage instead of bacon?" he turned to Kim, "and she'll have pancakes."

"French toast," Kim corrected quickly, not wanting a plate of pancakes in front of her. The brothers give her a weird look before turning back to Doris.

"Sure thing, hon," she replied, walking away.

"See? Different day already. See, if you and I decide I'm not gonna die, I'm not gonna die." Quickly Doris brings over the food.

"Thank you." Kim smiled as she received her plate of french toast. Kim looked to Dean with a smile as he stabbed his sausage with his fork and popped it into his mouth, Sam grinned. Kim went to take a bite from her french toast when her fork dropped to the floor. She groaned and she bent under the table to reach for it.

"Dean. Dean?" she heard and started to panic, pulling herself from under the table and looked up to see Dean choking.

•※•

Heat of the moment played.

Dean's shampooed head stuck out of the shower.

"You mean we can't even go out for breakfast?" Dean yelled form the shower. Sam sighed for outside the bathroom, sitting next to Kim.

"You'll thank me when it's Wednesday!" Kim sent him a weird look.

"Whatever that means," he disappeared behind the curtain and continued to shower. Kim sighed and got up from her seat just as her phone rang. She was about to answer her phone-call form Ellen when she heard a Dean yelp from the bathroom, a thud after it.

•※•

Heat of the moment played.

Sam refused to go out for breakfast, let Kim answer her phone or let Dean have a shower, let alone out of his sight.

The three of them sat at the table, eating tacos later on in the day. Dean took a bit of his taco before looking at the two in front of him.

"These tacos taste funny to you?"

•※•

Heat of the moment played.

Dean plugged in his electric shaver and got electrocuted.

•※•

Heat of the moment played.

The three of them were at the Mystery Spot in the neon green hallway with the black spiral. Sam and Kim swung at the wall with his axe. Dean grinned at the owner that was duck taped to a chair, fear all over his face.

"Everybody's fine, nobody's gonna get hurt, okay? Kim? Sammy?" They stop and turn to Dean, "Maybe you should drop the axe and let this guy go, what do you say?"

"Something's gotta be going on here. I intend to find out what." Sam looked at Kim, "Keep swingin'" Sam picked up his axe and started swinging.

"Place is torn up pretty good, dude. Time to give it a rest." Dean sighed, pulling Kim away from the wall. Sam looked extremely flustered but the two of them just didn't understand. They couldn't understand what he was going through.

"No! I'm gonna take it down to studs," Sam yelled, extremely tense.

"Sammy, that's enough, give me the axe," Dean ordered, but Sam never followed orders. Dean grabbed the axe in his hands but Sam tugged it back.

"Leave it, Dean."

"Give it."

"No, you give it."

"Let it go!"

"No!"

"Let it go, come on!"

"Dean, leave it, please-" Dean had tugged o hard, the axe went straight through him. "Dean?" then there was a thud.

•※•

Heat of the moment played.

The three of them entered the cafe.

"Drive safely now, Mr Picket." the cashier said to the old man in the cream jumper. Sam was tense, extraordinarily tense.

"Yeah, yeah."

The three of them find a booth, the exact same as always.

"So, twenty," Dean said.

"Shut up," she replied. Dean smirked and looked around the cafe as Sam listened to their conversation, just as always.

There was a man at the counter with pancakes and maple syrup-he's been in the background of every day.

"Hey. Tuesday. Pig in a poke." Dean smiled, pointing to the poster. Sam suddenly set a pair of keys on the table.

"What are those?" Sam looked up at Dean.

"The old man's. Trust me, you don't want him behind the wheel." Sam sighed. Doris walked to them, a smile on her face.

"You boys ready?" Kim poked her head out from behind Sam, "Sorry, didn't see you there." she apologized.

"Uh, yes, we are. I'll have the special, side of bacon and a coffee." Dean said and Kim was about to answer when Sam spoke.

"Hey, Doris? What I'd like is for you to log in some more hours at the archery range. You're a terrible shot."

"How'd you know that?" she asked, shocked.

"Lucky guess," he seethed slightly.

"Okay, so you think you're caught in some kind of what, again?" Dean asked.

"Time loop."

"Like Groundhog Day."

"Doesn't matter. There's no way to stop it." Sam replied lowly, his voice layered with disappointment.

"Jeez, aren't you grumpy," dean grouched sarcastically.

"Yeah, I am. You wanna know why? Because this is the hundredth Tuesday in a row I've been through, and it never stops. Ever. So yeah, I'm a little grumpy," Sam rapidly and grumpily. "Hot sauce,"

"What?" Doris arrived with a tray.

"Coffee, black, and some hot sauce for the-whoops! Crap!" Sam snatched the hot sauce as it fell off the try, harshly placing it on the table. "Thanks."

"Nice reflexes." Dean huffed.

"I knew it was going to happen, Dean. I know everything that's gonna happen,"

"You don't know everything." Kim huffed.

"Yeah, I do."

"Yeah, right. Nice guess." Dean and Sam said at the same time. Dean stopped and looked at Sam suspiciously.

"It wasn't a guess."

"Right, you're a mind reader," they said together again, "Cut it out, Sam," they lean together in unison, "You think you're being funny but you're being really really childish! Sam Winchester wears makeup. Sam Winchester cries his way through sex. Sam Winchester keeps a ruler by the bed and every morning when he wakes up he-" Dean threw up his hands in defeat.

"Okay, enough!"

"That was cool," Kim huffed.

"That's not all. Randy the cashier? He's skimming from the register. Judge Myers? At night he puts on a furry bunny outfit." Judge Myers overheard and in surprise, knocked over his glass, "Over there, that's Cal. He's gonna rob Tony the mechanic on the way home."

"We get it, Sam." Kim stopped him.

"My point is I've lived through every possible Tuesday. I've watched you die every possible way. I have ripped apart the Mystery Spot, burnt it down, tried everything I know to save your life and I can't. No matter what I do, you die. And then I wake up. And then it's Tuesday again." Sam replied. They walk out onto the street.

"Dog," the dog barked.

"There's gotta be some way out of this,"

"Where're my dang keys?" they pass the old man-Mr. Pickett-as he looked around for his keys.

"Excuse me," Sam said and Kim waited for it.

"Excuse me." A blonde girl rushed after bumping into Dean.

"She's kinda cute." Dean puts his hands up to stop Dean from continuing, Kim found it slightly amusing all while, completely shocked, "Hey. All the times we've walked down this street, I ever do this?"

"'Scuse me, miss!" Dean comes back with a piece of paper, one she had always been holding in her hands time after time. It was a 'Missing' paper. "Hundred Tuesdays and you never bothered to check what she was holding in her hands?" Dean scoffed. Dam shrugged, "It's the guy who went missing." The name on the paper was 'Dexter Hassleback', the missing man from the newspaper clipping.

"Yeah?" Kim shrugged, they already knew that.

"That's his daughter back there." Sam grabbed the flyer and ran to the girl, the two of them followed. Sam went to talk to the girl as Dean looked at the dog.

"Ma'am?" The dog growled at Dean as he approached.

"Hey, buddy! Does somebody need a friend? Good boy-aaah!"

•※•

Heat of the moment played.

Dean and Kim were eating in the cafe while Sam was on his laptop, a very serious expression on his face. In the background, a man with pink syrup was eating his pancakes at the bar.

"So the police report says Dexter Hasselback is a professor, but that's not all he is," Sam said.

"What is he?" Dean asked.

"I talked to his daughter. Guy's quite the journalist. Columns in magazines, a blog. The Man leaves," Kim scoffed, "He writes about tourist attractions. Mystery spots, UFO crash sites-he gets his kicks debunking them. I mean, he's already put four of these places out of business. Here." Sam turned his laptop to face Dean. Onscreen was the biography of the author of the blog 'The Hasselback Report' with a picture of Hasselback and a headline.

"'Dexter Hasselback, truth warrior?'" Dean reads aloud, "More like a pompous schmuck, you ask me."

"Yeah, tell me about it. I mean, I've read everything the guy's ever written, and he must have weighed a ton, he was so full of himself," Sam scoffed. Kim grabbed the laptop and read the article as the boys talked.

"When'd you have time to do all this research?"

"Come on," Sam replied, taking his laptop from Kim and getting up. Kim huffed at his actions and followed, her lips turning to a smirk.

"What an asshole," Kim laughed a bit, "I mean, it's kinda funny. This guy craps all over this 'Mystery Spot' and then vanishes into one." Dean laughed and looked at Kim, a smile on his face.

"It's kinda poetic, you know, just desserts." Dean laughed. Sam stopped and looked at the two of them, smirks on their faces.

"You're right, that is just desserts." Sam looked around the cafe when he noticed something different, something different from the last hundred time he had entered that cafe. He noticed the man abandoned plate; usually with maple syrup, now with pink. Sam looked shaken, both of them noticed.

"What's wrong?" Sam watched as the man who was eating at that plate exited the cafe, not looking back.

"Guy has maple syrup for the last hundred Tuesdays, all of a sudden he's having strawberry?" Sam breathed in shock.

"It's a free country. Man can't choose his own syrup, huh? What have we become?"

"Not in this diner. Not today. Nothing in this place ever changes. Ever. Except me."

•※•

Heat of the moment played.

Sam jerked awake.

"Rise and shine, Kim and Sammy!" Dean said over the radio, tying his shoes.

They were sitting in the same spot at the same cafe eating the same food, the man was eating his pancakes with maple syrup. Sam watched him closely.

"So you think you're caught in some kind of what, again?"

"Eat your breakfast." Sam orders, earning a laugh from Kim. The man got up and left, Sam followed.

"What's in the bag?" Dean asked as he got up and followed Sam, Kim followed.

Sam was walking fast, his pace quickened as he stalked the man. The two followed him at a quick pace. Suddenly, Sam slammed the man against a nearby fence, holding a wooden stake to his neck.

"Hey!" the man screamed in terror. Sam only pushed harder.

"I know who you are. Or should I say, what." Sam seethed.

"Oh my god, please don't kill me." he pleaded. Kim and Dean looked at each other, Sam harassing the man.

"Uh, Sam?" Dean muttered.

"It took me a hell of a long time but I got it," Sam spat applying more pressure. Kim shuffled on her feet, unable to stop Sam. Sam seemed slightly loud of himself, figuring out what had happened.

"What?" the man asked, confused.

"It's your MO that gave you away. Going after pompous jerks, giving them their just desserts-your kind loves that, don't they?" Sam continued.

"Yeah, sure, okay." He would say anything to get out of that situation. The man glanced nervously at Dena don Kim, his eyes lingered on Kim for a while, "Just put the stake down!"

"That's enough, Sam," Kim said softly, trying to agitate him as she moved closer.

"No! There's only one creature powerful enough to do what you're doing. Making reality out of nothing, sticking people in time loops-in fact you'd pretty much have to be a god. You'd have to be a Trickster," Sam yelled and brought the wooden stake to his neck, jabbing in the man's skin. The man stuttered, his hands up in surrender. Sam seemed furious.

"Mister, my name is Ed Coleman, my wife's name is Amelia, I got two kids, for crying out loud I sell ad space-" he pleaded but Sam was having none of it.

"Don't lie to me! I know what you are! We've killed one of your kind before!" Sam yelled. Kim watched as Sam seethed, his jaw clenching. A cheeky smirk appeared on the man's lips, his face shifting to another person. Kim's eyes widened as his eye landed on her, the smirk not leaving his face.

"Actually, bucko, you didn't," the trickster sassed with a cheeky smirk, his surrendering hands dropping along with his scared expression? Sam groaned as he recognised his face, holding the stake tighter, his face stained with determination.

"Why are you doing this?" Sam asked sadly, his breath slow. The Trickster raised an eyebrow, a chummy smirk still on his lips.

"You're joking, right?" the Trickster huffed, raising an eyebrow, "You Chuckleheads tried to kill me last time. Why wouldn't I do this?"

"And Hasselback, what about him?" Kim asked, moving forward next to Sam, looking down on the Trickster.

"That putz?" he huffed, "He said he didn't believe in wormholes, so I dropped him in one." The Trickster laughed, "Then you guys showed up. I made you the second you hit town." he smirked at Kim who's expression was slightly pissed.

"So this is fun for you? Killing Dean over and over again?" Sam seethed.

"One, yes. It is fun. And two? This is so not about killing Dean. This joke is on you, Sam. Watching your brother die, every day? Forever?" the Trickster smirked.

"You son of a bitch," Sam pushed the stake into his skin.

"How long will it take you to realize? You can't save your brother. No matter what," he smirked.

"Oh yeah? I kill you, this all ends now," Sam pushed even harder, Kim was surprised he hadn't broken skin yet.

"Oh-oh, hey, whoa! Okay. Look. I was just playing around," the Trickster rushed, putting his hands up again, "You can't take a joke, fine. You're out of it. Tomorrow, you'll wake up and it'll be Wednesday. I swear,"

"You're lying."

"If I am, you know where to find me. Having pancakes at the diner," Sam looked at Dean, then back at the Trickster.

"No. Easier to just kill you," Sam seethed one last time, preparing to stabs him with the stake.

"Sorry, kiddo. Can't have that." The Trickster snapped his fingers.

•※•

The radio played.

Kim stood over her bed, stretching–different from Tuesday. Dean wasn't tying his shoes on his bed, or sing to 'Heat of the moment'.

"What, you gonna sleep all day?" Dean said, standing by the bathroom sink. Kim hugged and smirked.

"I could if I would," Kim yawned, looking to Dean tiredly who smiled at her, toothpaste all over his mouth. Kim looked to Sam sleepily,

"No Asia," Sam breathed, looking from the radio to Dean.

"Yeah, I know. This station sucks," Dean scoffed Turing back to the mirror. Sam looked at the clock radio, it said: WED... "It's Wednesday!" Sam gasped.

"Yeah, usually comes after Tuesday. Turn that thing off, will you?" Dean said roughly, chucking his hand towards the radio. Sam smiled as he listened to the song.

"What, are you kidding me? This isn't the most beautiful song you've ever heard?" Sam grinned.

"Dude, how many Tuesdays did you have?" Kim smirked. Quickly, Sam threw on a long-sleeved T-shirt.

"I don't know. I lost count," Sam said, turning to Kim, "Hey, wait. What do you remember?"

"I remember you were acting all whacked out and... running into the Trickster," Kim shrugged. Dean nodded and looked at Kim after rinsing out his mouth of toothpaste.

"Yeah, and that you're twenty," Dean reminded, raising a suggestive eyebrow.

"All right. Pack your stuff, let's get the hell out of town. Now." Sam ordered quickly, determined to get out of that town.

"No breakfast?" Dean asked.

"No breakfast," Sam confirmed deeply.

•※•

Kim and Sam were packing in the motel, Sam seemed eager to get out, quickly shoving all his belongings in a bag. Kim watched him, the little stuff she owned already packed. He moved rapidly, it was almost unnatural.

"Take a breath, Sam. Looks like you're about to faint," Kim stated as she watched him move, leaning on her packed bags.

"I just wanna get outta here," Sam said softly, continuing to move.

"I'm sure you do," Kim continued as she watched him. He didn't stop to looked at her when he spoke. There was a small silence after that as Sam's packing slowly became slowly until he stopped and slowly faced her but by now she'd looked away. Sam took a breath, still looking at her, wondering if he should bring it up.

"You did nothing," Sam said lowly, causing Kim to turn around and face him.

"What?" she asked confused.

"You did nothing. You stood there and did nothing as Dean died, over and over again," Sam looked broken. Kim inhaled deeply, not sure how to respond. She stayed silent for a moment, "Do you want Dean to die?" Kim automatically tensed and became defensive, standing straight and broadening her shoulders as she stood against the giant in front of her.

"Do you really think I want Dean to go to Hell? Hell?" she spat in disgust. Sam shuffled uncomfortable, instantly regretting what he said, "No human deserves to go to Hell. None. Okay?" she snapped. She quickly took a deep breath and whipped her face.

"You can't blame me, Sam," she sighed, "I don't remember anything." Sam looked down, ashamed.

Suddenly, there was the sound of a shotgun.

"Dean!" Sam and Kim yelled as they ran into the street. They watched as a man from the cafe an around the corner, shotgun in his hand. Dean was lying on the ground with a bloodied bullet hole through his chest. Sam ran to Deam holding onto him.

"No, no, no no no, hey, hey, come on, not today, not today, this isn't supposed to happen today, come on–" Sam realized Dean wasn't moving as Kim looked down on his, expressionless. Sam closed his eye, waiting, but nothing happened. Shocked, he opened his eyes and looked around, he was in the same position. "I'm supposed to wake up."

•※•

It's been six months since Dean died. Kim was on the road, solo once again. Sam had ditched her, suddenly became aggressive and defensive without his brother around. Kim was fine by herself, occasionally ringing Ellen or Jo. She hadn't rung them in months. She was a natural solo, doing what had to be don't. Getting the job done. It what had always happened. While Sam had never actually been alone. He always had Dean. Always. No matter how much he'd refuse it.

Kim sat herself down in her lonely motel room with a dim smile on her lips, wiggling herself into a comfortable position before grabbing her book. Opening it, she heard the satisfying fresh crunch of the spine. The old pages were rough against her fingers and the smell of dust and paper filled he nose as she took a deep breath in, admiring every inch of the book. Gently, she opened the 'Mary Poppins' first edition and began to read, the smile never leaving her lips.

She very much enjoyed reading that book. It was a complex form of art that managed to suppress her pain for as long as it took to read; which wasn't very long. Dean had been on her mind every second of every day and she thought that finally buying a new book would take her mind off him for a while, but it only brought back memories. How he used to tease her about them, taking them off her and mocking the language or how he would call her a nerd whenever she would take them out. But as she held the new book in her hand–no matter how great it felt to possess–it continued to bring her misery, because she knew that if she was still with the Winchesters, she would not have been holding that book at all. She would have seen it in that antique bookstore window, glanced at it for a satisfying moment before being yelled at by Dean, who hadn't stopped walking, to 'hurry up'.

Although it was sad; it was true.

She got a call from Bobby.

•※•

Six months ago, when Kim took her first step out if town, she swore never to step back in. It took a lot of convincing and even more phone calls from Bobby to lure her into the Mystery Spot once again, but she couldn't refuse when Bobby announced that she 'owed him one'.

When Kim walked in, Sam was already there and Bobby was kneeling down turning pages of a book that was in the centre of a chalked diagram with there candela and thee bowls of united tidied substances. Kim entered the room, their backs turned to her.

"Kim, good to see you, kid," surprisingly, Bobby walked over to her and babe he a small hug with she awkward returned. Bobby pulled back and moved to the side, Kim's eyes met Sam's as she stared at her, expressionless. Quickly, he tore his eyes away from her, completely ashamed.

"What are we doing here, Bobby?" Sam asked quickly.

"Well, it's the last place we're sure the Trickster worked his magic," Bobby huffed. Kim sighed and looked around, not sure where to settle her eyes.

"So?" Sam sassed.

"So you want this thing? I found a summoning ritual to bring the Trickster here," Bobby continued. Sam perked up, intrigued by what he said. Kim took a step forward, also intrigued.

"What do we need?" Sam asked quickly.

"Blood." Kim stayed silent as she listened to Sam's response.

"How much blood?"

"Ritual says near a gallon, and it's gotta be fresh, too," Bobby said grimly.

"So we need to drain a person dry?" Kim scoffed, Sam sent Kim a look which she didn't return.

"And it's gotta be tonight. Or not for another fifty years," Bobby continued, making the situation worse. Kim huffed and across end her arms.

"Then let's go get some," Sam said, turning to leave. Kim grabbed his shoulders and spun him around, a stern look on her face.

"You can't be serious," Kim barked as he stared down at her, a sinister expression on his face.

"Why not?" Sam growled, "this is a way we can get him back, and you don't even care." Kim looked at him, her eyes filled with merciless hatred, "You wanted Dean dead, you still do." Kim's jaw clenched, her grip on his shoulder tightened as she took a deep breath trying to compose herself.

"I don't need to prove myself to you," she seethed.

"I don't regret anything I said the day Dean died, it was all true!" Kim ripped her grip off his shoulder and licked her teeth angrily. She kept her mouth shut, sure that if she opened it, she would say something she regretted.

"You break my heart, kids," Bobby sighed at them and Kim took quick bet breaths.

"What?" Sam asked.

"Kim's right. I'm not gonna let you murder an innocent man," Bobby huffed as if it was obvious.

"Then why'd you bring me here?" Sam yelled.

"Why? Because it was the only way you'd see me! Because I'm trying to knock some sense into you! Because I thought you'd back down from killing a man!" Bobby screamed back.

"Well, you thought wrong. Leave the stuff, I'll do it myself," Sam spat.

"Sam, that's enough. You know I want Dean back as much as–"

"Obviously not!"

"Just because I won't kill a man don't mean Dean meant nothing to me!" she screamed back, shaking with anger.

"It's none of your damn business what I do!" Sam stormed.

"You want your brother back so bad?" Kim yelled, grabbing the iron knife she had with her and held it out to Sam. Sam looked at her, confused, the knife easily in his grasp. She never thought that her knife would be the one to end her.

"What?" Sam snarled as he looked down the knife.

"Better her than a civilian," Bobby said. Kim swallowed the lump in her throat.

"You're crazy, Bobby. I'm not killing you, Kim." Sam urged.

"Hey, you're the one that left me," Kim huffed as she jerked the knife towards him, begging him to take it. Sam looked at Bobby, hoping he shared the same expression.

"Sam, she's giving you an option, and no offence sweetheart, but you're not so innocent," Bobby encouraged. Kim sighed and ignored Bobby.

"Sam, if you want your brother back I'm giving you the opportunity, okay?" Bobby smirked slightly behind Kim. Sam watched Bobby, squinting his eye suspiciously. He moved to Kim, who stayed genuinely expressionless. Kim exhaled slowly, preparing herself.

"You said I did nothing to save Dean, well, now I am." Bobby walked over to Sam, putting a hand on his shoulder, supporting him. He took the knife from Kim and handed it to Sam who took it hesitantly in his giant hand. Bobby smiled up at him, nodding once as Kim stood in front of him, her eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly, softening her features with fear.

Slowly, Sam dropped the knife and Kim watched it fall to the floor. Quickly, Sam took out a wooden stake from his jacket and grabbed Bobby by the throat. Forcefully, he shoved the stake into him. They watched as Bobby fell to the ground, blood spitting out of his mouth.

"You're not Bobby," Sam muttered, watching Bobby's corpse. They watch, waiting for him to change. Nothing happened, "Bobby? Bobby! Bobby!" Sam panicked. Kim watched in shock as Sam stabbed Bobby, a small gasp escaped her lips. Bobby's corpse vanished and the stake flew over Sam's shoulder and into the Trickster's hand. Sam and Kim spun to meet his gaze, a small smirk on his lips.

"You're right. I was just screwing with you. Pretty good, though, Sam. Smart," the Trickster took a step forward, "Let me tell you, whoever said Dean was the dysfunctional one has never seen you with a sharp object in your hands. Holy Full Metal Jacket,"

"Bring him back," Sam demanded. The Trickster scoffed as he lazily swung that stake around in his hand.

"Who, Dean? Didn't my girl send you flowers? Dean's dead. He ain't coming back. His soul's downstairs doing the hellfire rumba as we speak." Kim swallowed deeply as she squinted her eyes threateningly towards him.

"Just take us back to that Tuesday-er, Wednesday–when it all started. Please. We won't come after you, I swear," Sam stuttered, begging the Trickster.

"You swear?"

"Yes," Sam exhaled. The trickster turned to look at Kim, who was now standing next to Sam.

"What about you? You're not gonna try and gank me, are ya?" the Trickster smirked. Kim pursed her lips slightly, looking at him.

"No, for Sam's sake," Kim nodded as the Trickster smirked.

"How generous," the Trickster shrugged a bit, "I don't know. Even if I could-"

"You can," Sam corrected.

"True," he smirked, "But that doesn't mean I should. Sam, there's a lesson here that I've been trying to drill into that freakish Cro-Magnon skull of yours," the Trickster jeered.

"Lesson? What lesson?" Sam asked quickly.

"This obsession to save Dean? The way you two keep sacrificing yourselves for each other?" he shook his head, "Nothing good comes out of it. Just blood and pain," he spat. Kim shuffled on her feet, "Dean's your weakness. And the bad guys know it, too. It's gonna be the death of you, Sam. Sometimes you just gotta let people go," the Trickster warned. Sam swallowed the lump in her throat.

"He's my brother," Sam stammered.

"Yup. And like it or not, this is what life's gonna be like without him." the Trickster turned to Kim, "And no matter how many puppets you add to your play, it will still end the same." Sam looked down at him, his expression slightly confused. The Trickster rolled his eyes dramatically at him, "Kim can only do so much, Sam. She's looked as hard as you have, trust me." The Trickster sent her acknowledging look as she held her back tall and straight.

"Please. Just-please," Sam begged.

"I swear, it's like talking to a brick wall!" the Trickster said, slightly pissed, "Okay, look. This all stopped being fun months ago. You're Travis Bickle in a skirt, pal," he sassed, "I'm over it."

"Meaning what?" Sam asked hopefully.

"Meaning that's for me to know and you to find out!" With that, the Trickster snapped his fingers, once again.

•※•

Sam jerked awake, sitting up in his motel bed.

He looked to the radio.

'Heat of the moment' was absent in all sense on the word.

"What, you gonna sleep all day?" Dean called form the bathroom as Kim stretched near her bed. Dean saw that Sam was staring at the radio. "I know, no Asia. This station sucks,"

"It's Wednesday," Sam breathed in delight.

"Yeah, usually comes after Tuesday," Dean scoffed, toothpaste in his mouth, "Turn that thing off," Quickly, Sam threw off his bed covers and ran to Dean, engulfing him in a hug. Kim let her arms go limp as she stared at the boys.

"Well thanks, guys, I'm feeling the love, really," she huffed a laugh.

"Come on in, group hug," Dean smirked as he called for Kim. She laughed slightly, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't do group hugs," she smirked.

"Dude, how many Tuesdays did you have?" Dean asked his brother, pulling back.

"Enough," Sam sighed, "What, uh, what do you remember?"

"I remember you were acting all whacked out and... running into the Trickster," Kim shrugged. Dean nodded and looked at Kim.

"Yeah, and that you're twenty," Dean reminded, raising a suggestive eyebrow, pointing to her. Sam nodded.

"Let's go," Sam rushed.

"No breakfast?" Dean asked doubtingly.

"No breakfast," Sam confirmed.

"All right, I'll pack the car," Dean nodded.

"Wait, you're not going anywhere alone," Dean huffed along with Kim.

"It's the parking lot, Sam," Kim scoffed.

"Just-just trust me,"

Sam, dressed and ready to go, zipped his bag up. Dean opened the door and then turned back to Sam, who was standing over his bag, Kim just stood next to him with her bag. Dean furrowed his eyebrow at Sam.

"Hey, you don't look so good. Something else happen?" Kim looked at him as he stayed silent. There was a moment where they thought he wouldn't answer at all.

"I just had a really weird dream," Sam muttered. Dean nodded slowly, Kim not convinced.

"Clowns or midgets?" Sam looked up instantly. Dean grinned at him as Sam tried to hold a smile that twitched on his lips. Dean picked up his bag and left. Sam looked down in thought until he heard a grunt from beside him. He turned his head to see Kim swing her bag over her shoulder roughly, along with the bag she held in her hand.

He watched as she staggered out the door, the words of the Trickster repeating in his mind. Only then did he realise how truly underappreciated she was.

Sam followed her as she left, stopping at the door to look back into his room and at his unmade bed. Sam turned off the lights and closed the door, glad to finally get out of the room he had stayed in for more than a hundred days.