Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural or its characters. Takes place between Seasons 3 and 4.
Another life ago, Sam would have cared about ripping off the Mom n' Pop Electronics Store with a bogus credit card. Now, he pocketed his new purchase and smiled. He'd always wanted an iPod.
Jess had owned an iPod, one of the earlier ones. It was so big and bulky compared to the new, sleek one he had now. Jess wouldn't believe him if he told her how many songs he could fit on this tiny device. Sam shook his head, remembering how Jess would plug the iPod into some old speakers on Sunday morning, and she'd dance around the kitchen making omelettes. She'd loved to cook, and he sure had reaped the benefits.
God, what was he doing? Jess may as well have been dating a completely different person. Hell, Sam felt like a whole different person nowadays, and not in a good way. But dammit if the floodgates hadn't opened with those thoughts of Sunday mornings. All sorts of images came tumbling back to Sam. Jess in one of her little nightgowns, with an apron over top, chopping up vegetables and giggling hysterically at Sam's bedhead. He'd break a few eggs in a bowl then sneak up behind her, skimming her hips with his hands and drawing in close. She loved it when he did that. Sundays had always started with breakfast but had often ended with... something else.
And now he was fucking a demon. Sam exhaled slowly, said it again to himself: I'm fucking a demon. He'd have laughed if someone had told him that 5 years ago -- actually, scratch that. He was at Stanford five years ago; no one in their right mind would have suggested a thing like that. Even one year ago, thick in the hunt, post-Madison, he would have conceded that possibly it could happen by accident. Maybe some poor girl got herself possessed and he (or more likely, Dean) got tricked into sleeping with her. But a full blown demon? Out in the open, with Sam fully knowledgeable and, he hated to admit it, wanting it? No fucking way.
It shouldn't have happened. It wouldn't have happened, not under Dean's watch. But then again, couldn't he pretty much trace it all back to that? The sick things he was doing, with Ruby's body, with her blood... it had taken Dean's actual death and descent into hell to push him over that edge. And if it could have saved Dean, Sam wished to hell that he'd done it sooner.
Not that he was proud of it. What kind of sick freak drinks demon blood willingly? Sam preferred not to dwell on it, and wondered what Bobby would say if he knew. That was one of the huge reasons he'd pushed Bobby away. Sam couldn't bear the thought of Bobby coming down on him, finding him out. Better to let Bobby think he's just off his rocker, out of his mind with grief for Dean. Better to be insane than to be inhuman.
Sam directed his attention back to his new iPod. It instantly distracted him. Sam took out his laptop and eagerly began transferring his old music files onto the new device. Sam had bought a jack for the iPod, too, and was looking forward to getting the car all set up. For Sam, the main advantage of owning an iPod was having complete control over the songs. He couldn't seem to control any other damn thing in his life right now; at least he could listen to his own songs in the car. With an iPod, he didn't have to fumble through stations every other hour trying to find something decent. With an iPod, there would be no risk of anything unpleasant coming on. Any classic rock, to be specific.
Sam couldn't even imagine the look on Dean's face if he caught Sam with an iPod in the Impala. Catching himself, Sam swallowed hard. Dean was dead. Gone. Rotting in hell. He shoved the iPod hard into the Impala's cigarette lighter.
It was his car now.
Just a little something for you. Thanks for reading! ----- AE