Sam sat at the computer desk, staring at a page in his hand emotionally as Angel and Dean bustled around behind him, cleaning up.
"How do you erase this?" Dean asked as they came back over to the desk and he hurriedly pointed to the computer, "Huh?"
"Sam." Angel barked hurriedly at his silence, urging him, "You're the tech guy here. We need your help. Erase this."
"I killed him…" Sam said quietly as they resumed cleaning, "I just… broke in and- and killed him."
"Sammy, listen to me very carefully…" Angel knelt beside him, "This man, whoever he was, he's a hunter. That means when his hunter buddies find out he's been murdered they're going to come after his killer, guns blazing."
Dean looked up from behind her, "Which means we've got to cover our tracks, okay?"
"His name was Steve Wandell…" He held up the paper in his hand numbly, "This is a letter from his daughter."
Angel frowned as Dean looked from Sam to the letter, then made a decision. He grabbed the CPU, lifted it above his head, and smashed it to the floor, stomping it with his boots for good measure.
He then turned to Sam, still sitting there despondent, and tossed a rag to him, "Wipe your prints, then we go."
Back at the motel room…
Sam walked into the room, followed by Angel and Dean. The latter of which was talking about their gameplan.
"Alright, we get a couple hours sleep and then we put this place in our rearview mirror." He put his bag down and looked at Sam who still hasn't said anything, "Look, I know this is bad, okay? You gotta snap out of it." When all he did was roll his eyes Dean huffed, "Sam, say something!"
"Just get some sleep and leave in the morning?" He scoffed angrily, pointedly looking between Angel and Dean begging them to understand the situation he was in, "Murder, that's what I did."
Angel hunted for words as she shook her head and crossed her arms, "Maybe." Sam scoffed again and she pressed her point, "Hey, we don't know- shapeshifter!"
"Oh, come on! You dont really believe that! You both saw the tape. There was no eye flare, no distortion."
"Yeah, but it wasn't you, alright?" Dean interjected, "I mean, yeah, it might have been you, but it wasn't you."
"Well, I think it was." Sam looked away as he sat down on the bed, "I think… maybe more than you guys know."
Angels brows knitted as she stood in front of him, "What the hell does that mean?"
"For the last few weeks I've been having… I've been having these feelings."
Dean walked to the bed to sit opposite of Sam, "What feelings?"
"Rage. Hate." He shook his head, "And I can't stop it. It just gets worse. Day by day, it gets worse."
"Sammy…" Angel frowned, "Why wouldn't you say something to us about this?"
"I didn't want to scare you guys."
"Well…" Dean nodded before slapping his knee and standing, "Bang-up job on that."
Sam looked up at them, "The yellow-eyed demon, you know, he has plans for me, and all three of us know that he's turned other children into killers before, too."
Dean dismissed him quickly, "No one can control you but you."
"It sure doesn't seem like that, Dean, it feels like no matter what I do, slowly but surely I'm- I'm just becoming…"
"What?"
"Who I'm meant to be."
"Sam, you weren't meant to be some psychic killer!" Angel scoffed, "It doesn't matter what Yellow-Eyes wants."
"Angel, you said it once yourself." He pressed, "I gotta face up to who I am."
"I didn't mean it like this!"
"But it's still true." Sam rose and walked to stand in front of both of them, "Both of you know that. Dad knew that too. That's why he told you two, if it ever came to this…"
Dean glared, "Shut up, Sam."
"You both promised him." Sam looked between them, eyes blaring, "You both promised me."
"Sammy…" Angel shook her head, "We're going to figure this out. There's always a way."
Conviction filled the youngest Winchesters eyes, "Yeah, there is." He took a handgun from his duffel and shoved it at them, "I don't wanna hurt anyone else. I don't wanna hurt you guys."
They both looked down at the gun Sam was handing over, but neither took it from him.
"You won't." Angel said confidently as she crossed her arms again, "Whatever this is, you can fight it. We can help you fight it."
"No, I can't. Not forever." Sam said as he teared up and shoved the gun at them again, "Here, one of you has gotta do it.
The three of them stared at each other for a long moment before Sam grabbed Dean's right hand and placed the gun in it. Dean didn't move, just stared at Sam in shock along with Angel who was tearing up beside him. Sam was shaky, getting more and more upset by the second.
"You know…" Dean looked down at the gun, "Angel and I, we've tried so hard to keep you safe."
Sam nodded, tears filling his eyes, "I know."
"I can't." He shook his head as he dropped the fun on the bed and shouldered past Sam, "I'd rather die."
"Sam…" Angel came to stand in front of him, tears falling from her eyes, "We're going to figure this out. The three of us, together. I promise. No ones going to die, not you and not us, okay?"
Sam stared at her for a beat before coming closer to her, "No, you'll live." Quickly, he grabbed her and bashed her head into the desk knocking her out before picking up the gun and pistol whipping Dean into unconsciousness before he could react, "You'll live to regret this."
Later on…
Insistent knocking at the motel rooms front door had Dean awakening with a groan. Realizing he was on the floor he looked around in confusion, he stood up with a grimace. Upon seeing Angel on the ground, knocked out as well, he ran over to her and ignored the knocking.
"Angie?" He gently shook her, relief flooding him when she groaned in return before his eyes fluttered open, "You okay?"
"No…" She grimaced as he helped her up to sitting, frowning when she touched the blood dripping down her forehead, "What the hell happened?"
"Hello?" The knocking outside got louder, "Hey, open up!"
"Sam happened." Worry filled Dean's face as he got up and opened the door, "What?"
The man glared, "It's past your checkout."
"What?"
"It's past your checkout." He motioned behind himself, "I've got a couple here needs your room."
"Yeah, I'll bet they do." Dean commented as he glanced at the embarrassed businessman standing beside a hooker, "What time is it?"
"Twelve-thirty."
"The other guy who was with us…" Angel said as she came to stand beside Dean, "Have you seen him?"
"Yeah, he left before dawn in your car." He answered, sending another glare to Dean, "And you two should have gone with him because now I'm gonna have to charge you extra."
Dean muttered as he rolled his eyes upon hearing Sam took the Impala, "Oh, son of a…"
"It's just policy, sir."
"Its fine." Angel dismissed, "We need to use your computer."
"Now…" He looked between them curiously, "Why would I let you use my computer?"
This time Angel rolled her eyes. Soon the manager was counting a stack of cash Angel talked on the phone behind him, in front of a desktop computer. Dean stood worriedly behind her, watching and listening.
"Hi, uh, so sorry to bother you, but my son snuck out of the house last night and went to a, uh, Justin Timberlake concert." She paused and forced out a light laugh, "Yeah, Justin sure is the triple threat. Anyway, he's not back yet, and- and I'm just… Well, I'm starting to worry. Call it a mothers intuition." She frowned, "Boys may be boys buy Sammy, he's uh- he's a diabetic. If he doesn't get his insulin then… I just- I have to find him. Please, I'm begging you." She nodded and looked at the computer screen, "Yeah, no no no, I'm on the website right now. I just need to activate the GDS in his cell phone." She entered a password; her GPS screen showing the name ANGEL J. MAHOGOFF, mobile phone number 785-555-2800, "Yeah, right there. Duluth, Minnesota. Yeah, that is a long way to go for a concert. I appreciate your help."
Hanging up she and Dean rushed out, heading for Minnesota.
Duluth, Minnesota: The Sandpiper Tavern
Jo Harvelle, scrubbed the tabletop of the bar as she said goodnight to some customers that were walking out. She was looking down as another man entered and cleared his throat to get her attention. She didn't look over as she turned her back to the door.
"Sorry, we're closing up."
Sam's voice sounded and she tensed, "How about just one for the road?"
Tensing, Jo turned to face him. Her face was less than welcoming as she stared at the youngest Winchester, not expecting him at all.
"Well… you're about the last person I'd expect to see."
"Guess I'm full of surprises." He walked a little further into the bar and looked at her with his signature pouty face as he leaned onto a wooden pillar, "So can I get a beer?"
"Sure." She nodded tensely, "One beer." She brought a bottle of beer over and set it down on the bar firmly, then turned away, bustling over cleaning up again, "So how'd you find me?"
"Well, uh, it's kind of what we do, you know?"
"Speaking of 'we', where are Angel and Dean?"
"Couldn't make it."
"So what're you doing here Sam?" She asked blatantly as she came back to stand behind the bar, "I mean we didn't exactly part on the best of terms."
"Right. Um, that's why I'm here." He nodded as he took off his jacket, "I kinda- I wanted to see if we could square things, you know?"
As Sam took off his jacket, Jo noticed a circular burn mark with a short line through it on his forearm, "That looks like it hurts."
Sam followed her gaze to the burn, "No." He laughed it off as he shook his head, "Nah, just… had a run-in with a hot stove."
"So…" She pierced her eyes to his, "You were saying something about squaring things?"
"Yeah. Um…" He leaned on the bar as his eyes became sad, "Look, I know how you feel about my dad, and I can't say I blame you. He was obsessed- consumed with hunting, and he didn't care who got caught in the cross-fire. I guess… that included your dad, but that was my father. That's not me."
She nodded, pain crossing her face but looked at him curiously, "What about Dean?"
"Well…" He shrugged, "Angel and Dean are more like my father than I am, but-" He chuckled tightly at Jo's disappointed look, "Boy, you're really carrying a torch for him, aren't you?" She scoffed uncomfortably, "I'll take that as a yes. It's too bad." He smiled tightly, almost jealous as she turned from him and walked to clear off the tables behind him, "'Cause see, Dean, he likes you, sure, but not in the way you'd want. I mean, maybe as kind of a… little sister, you know?" As she came to stand beside him her glare deepened at his words, "Like how Angel is with us, but romance, that's just out of the question. He-" Sam laughed making her flinch, "He kind of thinks you're a schoolgirl, you know?" At her hurt glare his smile faltered, "I'm not trying to hurt you, Jo, I- I'm telling you 'cause I care."
She nodded sarcasticall as her eyes reading murder, "That's real kind of you, Sam."
"I mean it." He placed a hand over hers on the bar, suggestively, possessively, "I care about you a lot."
She looked him over confused and taken aback by that, "Sam, what's going on?"
She tried to pull her hand away but he held it strongly, refusing to let it go, "I can be more to you, Jo."
Her face stayed blank as she tried to keep her composure, "Maybe you should leave."
"Okay."
Staring at her seethingly for a second, he shoved her hand away and stood to leave. Racking her brain for an explanation to this weird interaction, Jo turned to face the bar, leaning on it heavily as she took a steadying breath. Within a second, Sam roughly grabbed her from behind. He twisted her around and started manhandling her.
"Sam, get off me!" Jo struggled in his grasp, trying to fight him off and panicking when she realized he was too strong, "Sam! Get off me! Let me go!"
He grabbed her hair, forcing her head up and leaning over her to pin her body to the bar. His mouth traced her jaw as she still struggled in his grasp. Looking to her right she saw a beer bottle and closed her right hand on it, but before she could hit him with it he grabbed her wrist and slammed it onto the bar, shattering the bottle.
Sam looked down at her, shaking his head slightly, "Jo, Jo, Jo."
He shoved her around until she faced the bar and pinned her there, left hand over her wrist, right hand stroking her hair. He pressed his body harder against hers eliciting a panicked scream from her.
"Sam, no!" She cried, "No! Please! Please, Sam!"
He slammed her forehead into the bar, knocking her out, and lifted her carefully to lie her on the bar.
Sam stroked her hair in a disturbingly gentle manner, "It didn't have to be this way." He smiled evilly, "Maybe it did."
