"If you walk out that door, don't you come back!"
Sam stopped. He stared at the cracked paint of the motel door. Could his dad really mean that? It was only college, he wasn't leaving them behind. He was only leaving this life. But then, they were this life.
Sam exhaled heavily.
He turned back to stare at his father, red in the face and furious, but desperate too. Dean was standing off to the side, he looked scared and upset. Well, Sam decided, if he didn't want him to leave he should have said something. Sam stared at them both for a moment to try commit their faces to memory.
"Goodbye Dad, goodbye Dean." Sam walked out the door.
"You've really left," Jack whispered.
"Yep," Sam replied casting one last look at the motel. He stroked the hood of the Impala as he passed the car. "Maybe for good."
"For good!?" Jack spluttered as he jogged to keep up with the taller teenager.
"Yeah," Sam admitted sadly, stopping for a second before he lengthened his stride. "My dad," he offered as an explanation.
"So you're just leaving? Without giving a goodbye?"
"Well, he didn't give me much choice!" Sam cried turning to stare down the spirit.
Jack smiled bitterly. "Who said I was talking about them?"
Sam sighed and slumped into himself. "I'm not saying goodbye to you, ever," he swore.
"California, Sam. I'll melt."
"I don't care," Sam shrugged. "I'll go to Antarctica if I have to."
Jack smiled slightly. "You don't have to go to Antarctica," he muttered.
"Good." Sam laughed. "I've never left the country before," he admitted.
"I've only been to cold places," Jack replied, with a quiet chuckle.
Sam smiled sadly and stared at the winter spirit. "It's not goodbye," he insisted.
"It feels like it."
"It's see you soon, not goodbye," Sam promised.
The Wind picked up around them. Maybe agreeing or disagreeing, Sam couldn't tell. He had never been able to even gain a vague understanding of her language. And yes, the Wind was a she – according to Jack.
"Do you want me to walk you to the bus stop?" Jack asked after a minute of silence
Sam nodded with a grateful smile.
At least he wouldn't be entirely alone now.
~An Unlikely Friendship~
The Wind gently lowered Jack to the ground beside the bus just in time for him to hear the driver announce, "I'm sorry everyone, but there has been an accident up ahead so we're going to spend the night here."
There was a collective groan from occupants of the bus but they all shuffled out of the bus and towards the shabby motel they would be staying in.
Sam smiled discreetly at Jack.
Jack slipped over to Sam where he kept to the back of the group. "So, cleansing ritual?" Jack guessed.
"Cleansing ritual," Sam agreed. "Good job on that accident. No deaths?"
"None, and thanks! How many deaths in this motel?"
"Tons," Sam answered. "No bodies were ever recovered, I'm hoping it's a spirit," he yawned.
"You, sleep," Jack ordered, crossing his arms over his chest. "You need to be able to finish that paper due next month, never mind stopping our Christmas spirit. Sleep, and I'll scope out the place."
Sam rolled his eyes. "I'm being mothered by a tiny teenager."
A breeze tickled the back of his neck. Sam clapped a hand over the spot. "And the Wind," he muttered, hearing her whistle in agreement.
"You finally speak wind!" Jack giggled.
"There are breezes in California."
Jack smiled and flew off to search the surrounding areas. Every break Sam had, they went out, together, and stopped some of those legendary spirits. "They are hurting children" had been what Jack had told Sam with tears falling down his cheeks and Sam hadn't been able to say no to those lonely eyes.
~An Unlikely Friendship~
An hour later.
Sam dropped to his knees in the snow, the shrill screaming drowning out the hypnotic melody that had lured him far away from the motel. No, not screaming – wailing.
The wailing stopped as suddenly as it had begun.
Sam panted into the ground as he tried to work through the pain from his ears drums.
"You were supposed to sleep, you know," Jack frowned, crouching down beside his friend.
"I tried," Sam argued weakly. "But then…" he trailed off, unable to remember.
"Baobhan Sith. A blood-sucking fairy, Scottish in origin. Similar to a vampire, or a seductress – nothing, however, like a Banshee."
Both turned to the voice. A beautiful woman was sprawled in the low hanging branches of an oak tree. She smiled warmly at them. "Sorry about the screaming by the way."
"You're a Banshee," Jack guessed.
She nodded with a smile. "I follow the dead, soon to be dead or the mourning. You two, however, are none of these things." She stared at Jack searchingly. "Well, not really."
"A Baobhan Sith," Sam muttered quietly. "How do we kill it?"
"Her," the Banshee corrected. "And you don't, the sun does. Like I said before she is similar to a vampire. In mythology only – vampires are fine in sunlight."
"If you know all this why couldn't you stop her? Or tell us? And not destroy my eardrums," Sam ground out pressing the palms of his hands into the damaged appendages.
The Banshee glared, and Sam felt himself shrink back from the intensity of her glare. "Who are you to question fate? Those men and women were meant to die. And I am a part of the natural cycle, I cannot change what is meant to be!"
A strong gust of wind blew at the banshee at which she took a deep breath and breathed out slowly. "Wind," she muttered in greeting.
"If you don't mind me asking," Jack began cautiously, not wanting to anger the banshee. "Then why did you help us, eh, Sam. You stopped him from walking straight to the Baobhan Sith – thanks, by the way – why?"
The Banshee smiled. "Neither of you are meant to die in today."
"How do we stop it – her?" Sam asked climbing, unsteadily, to his feet.
The Banshee turned to Jack. "You are winter, are you not, Spirit?"
Jack stared. "I'm just supposed to freeze her? Won't it melt in -"
"-In the sun, yes. And so will she."
"How do we get her here?" Sam asked.
Jack suddenly gasped in horror. "No!" he shouted.
The Banshee continued to smile. "Like I said, neither or you will die tonight."
"Maybe not tonight but when the sun rises…" Jack trailed off, glaring at the Banshee.
"What?" Sam asked.
"Blood-sucking fairy, Sam. Vampire. She wants you to bleed."
"It will keep her still long enough for you to freeze her," the banshee stated.
"How can we trust you?" Sam demanded.
"I saved your life," the Banshee cried out in outrage.
"Vampires can't enter properties without permission, maybe they can't drink blood without permission – and you're just tricking me."
The Banshee moved with lightning speed and grabbed Sam by the neck, her beautiful exterior gone. Her fingers were long and bony and looked dead, much like the rest of her. Except her eyes, which were ablaze with fury.
"Listen, Hunter. I'm protecting the balance, and I'm saving your life. Do you have any idea the bounty on your head, hmm Winchester?"
Sam swallowed nervously.
"Hey!" Jack shouted. "Stand back," he ordered pointing his staff at the Banshee. "I don't care if you do protect the balance, I'll kill you right here."
The Wind began pulling at the Banshee's clothes fiercely.
The Banshee removed her hand from Sam's neck leaving a deathly pale impression in its place. "Such loyalty, and friendship," she noted. "You'll need that," she added to Sam who just gasped for breath and stared at her.
"How am I supposed to bleed?" Sam croaked, eyeing the now hideous banshee.
The Banshee reached into her cloak and removing a long silver comb with an overly sharp handle.
"How sharp does a comb need to be!?" Sam asked stepping back, afraid she would try to hurt him.
The Banshee chuckled, her appearance gaining some more life. "Sharp enough to kill me."
Sam reached out to take the comb when she held it out for him.
"Wait!" Jack shouted. "You're not supposed to take a Banshee's comb, she'll curse you."
"Normally yes," the banshee agreed, easily. Sam pulled back his hand. "But," the Banshee went on, "this Baobhan Sith has been a thorn in my side since we first crossed paths. And anyway, you're already cursed, sweetheart," the Banshee said to Sam, almost sadly. She brushed her long fingers against his cheek and pressed her comb into his chilled hand.
"It will be daylight soon," she noted. "Now would be a good time."
Sam sighed. He pressed the sharp end of the comb into the palm of his hand. He grunted in pain. Sam took a deep breath and dragged the comb across his palm leaving a deep gash there. "Hide!" He told Jack, who was staring in horror.
Sam curled his hand into a fist making blood drip down on the plain snow. He took a deep breath and shut his eyes, waiting for the Baobhan Sith to appear.
Sam would never remember what happened next entirely, but he remembered parts of it.
Something strong and fast, tackling him to the ground. Pain erupting in his neck. Cold seeping into him. Someone screaming his name. Cold hands touching him. Someone panicking and pleading. Then screaming.
~An Unlikely Friendship~
Jack wasn't sure which was faster the Banshee or the Baobhan Sith. But he was pretty fast himself.
"Sam!" He yelled, pulling the unconscious and heavily bleeding hunter away from the frozen fairy vampire. "Sam!" Jack grabbed Sam's face and checked for any reaction. "Oh no." Jack muttered. "Sam, please. Wake up." Jack turned to the Banshee. "He needs help."
"Allow me." The Banshee said with a gentle smile. she looked like a beautiful young woman again. Her clothes which had previously been a long white dress and cloak turned into faded jeans, converse and a thick hoodie. A white scarf was wrapped around her neck. "Wind, please clear the way. Spirit," she turned to Jack, "hide the Baobhan Sith. And cover your ears."
Then she screamed.
~An Unlikely Friendship~
When Sam came to, he was in a comfortable bed with something beeping near his head.
A warm hand wrapped around his own. "Hunter."
Sam turned and blinked as he saw the blurry form of the Banshee.
"You don't remember what happened. You don't know me. You found yourself in the woods. Then you woke up here. That's all you have to tell them."
Sam blinked again as she turned clear. "Jack?" he croaked.
"He's fine. He waiting outside, he didn't want to freeze the room."
"Where?"
"You're in a nursing home. It was the closest thing to a hospital around."
Sam blinked at the ceiling. "Okay?"
"Yes, you're fine. You lost a lot of blood, but you'll be fine." Suddenly, she grinned. "I told you, you would be fine."
"Miss, do you – oh, you're awake! I'll fetch the doctor." The nurse rushed off.
The Banshee groaned. "No, privacy here. I have to go but first, Hunter, look at me."
Sam stated at the woman.
"Be careful, Sam Winchester. You are living in the calm before the storm. And in that storm, you will need all the friends you can get." With that she stood up and left.
Sam blinked as he tried to digest that statement. He raised a hand and probed the bandages on his neck.
"Don't do that!" the nurse chided hurrying into the room, with a doctor close behind. She grabbed Sam's hand. Unfortunately, it was his injured hand, a growl crawled from his throat.
"I'll take it from here," the doctor said, pushing the nurse out of the room. "I'm sorry, she's new. Now, would you be able to tell me your name?"
Sam took a deep breath. "Sam Winchester."
"Right, Sam. Do you have anyone for us to call?"
"No," Sam replied sadly. "They… they wouldn't come anyway."