On the Right Side of History and Cars
K Hanna Korossy
Sam sat in the Impala.
He was in the passenger seat, and no one was driving. Which was fine, because the car wasn't going anywhere, sitting in the Bunker garage.
Sam had actually just returned from a long trip, following a lead that turned out to be useless. He was exhausted, body and soul; smelled like sweat and old coffee; and was vaguely hungry the only way he ever felt hunger these days, when he needed food but wasn't interested in it. He should be sick of the car, ready for a real shower and bed. But instead he'd slid over to the other side of the seat—his side, the right side—and leaned his head back and just sat there.
Someone knocked on the window.
There was a half-second where he actually thought, Dean!, because how many times had his brother thought it was hilarious to wake him up like that, or wanted to warn him the door was opening so Sam wouldn't fall out, or, when they were kids, tell Sam it was safe to come out?
Then reality crashed back in.
Sam opened eyes he didn't realize he'd closed and turned to look. Charlie. Or, well, not their Charlie, but apoca-world Charlie. Just as clever and funny, but without any of the affection when she looked at Sam. He rolled his window down.
"Hey, Sammy. Sorry to interrupt…whatever, but I just had, you know, important monster info to run by you." She held out a piece of paper. "Does this look like a rugaru to you?"
Sam rubbed a hand over his eyes and took the paper. Or, rather, the picture. He grimaced. "Probably—they usually go for kids. Uh, any kind of frying will kill it: fire, electricity. Try a flare gun or an amped-up taser."
She made a huh! face and nodded. "Got it. Uh…sorry to bother you." Her glance around the empty car was totally not subtle.
Sam gave her a tired smile. "No problem."
Charlie started to turn away.
"Hey, Charlie?"
She looked back.
"Don't call me 'Sammy,' all right?" Sam asked quietly.
"Oh. Sorry. Just heard…" Dean call you that. She blinked. "And I thought…" Charlie gave him a too-cheerful grin. "Right. Chief." She offered a two-finger salute and hurried off.
Great. That would probably stick. Sam shook his head. Dean would think—
Except, Dean wasn't here. He'd been gone seventeen days, stolen by Michael and missing since without a trace.
Cas could usually sense archangels, but he hadn't even gotten a whiff of Michael. Atmospheric disturbances didn't follow angels as they did demons, but there still should have been something: sightings, miracles, mass killings. Naomi was unequivocal that Heaven wasn't interested in helping, Hell was a disorganized mess, and hunters across the country were coming up empty. Dean and Michael were just…gone.
And Sam had been left behind, again.
Mom kept trying to encourage him with baseless promises. Bobby—also not their Bobby—had tendered some awkward platitudes. The other alternate-world hunters were working hard to try to save the guy who'd saved them. And still Sam sat there, alone.
He breathed out a long sigh, hand reaching almost automatically to rub the amulet that lay beneath his shirt. He only wore it when Dean wasn't there, which had been too often over the years. The little horns pressed into Sam's palm, and that felt good. A reminder that every time he'd lost Dean, he'd eventually gotten him back.
And that Sam had his own reason for hope.
New-Bobby had told him how the Apocalypse had gone down in their world. Lucifer and Michael, envesseled in a pair of Chinese brothers who'd said yes, led armies against each other in a battle that decimated the world. Asia was completely gone. Africa was unlivable. No one had seen the sun in years. Humanity only survived in pockets like the one Sam and Dean had brought back.
This Lucifer and that Michael had fought in this world not quite three weeks ago. They hadn't had armies, true, but they'd plenty of power. And what had happened this time?
They'd floated around the room like some Matrix rip-off. They'd thrown punches, wrestled, and growled at each other. Finally, Michael had simply stabbed Lucifer. Sam and Jack had been in the same room, and they hadn't even been knocked over by the released power. And Sam had a strong suspicion why.
He himself had been able to overcome Lucifer's possession out of love for his brother. He had no doubt Dean was capable of the same, keeping Michael's power in check, maybe even both archangels', to protect those he loved. It was the only thing that made sense. One of the archangels' greatest weaknesses was that they always underestimated the strength of human devotion.
So, yeah, Sam didn't have Mary's optimism, or Charlie's innate buoyancy. He was still scared how this all would end. But some little part of him clung to the brother he'd glimpsed back at that church, and hoped. Because if Dean could do that…
Sam set his jaw and climbed out of the car. He had work to do.
The End
Come back tomorrow for a longer and more fun fic, a gift on my birthday to you! -KHK