Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.
I'm an awful person; I haven't updated in a while, sorry! Because these chapters are focused less on the actual Supernatural episodes and more on my own original thoughts, it'll take longer between each chapter. Hope this is worth the wait!
"Oomph!" Sam doubled over, the air knocked out of him. The demon was obviously pleased with being able to pummel a Winchester, even if he was going to lead the army later.
Sam looked up with his puppy dog eyes, willing the demon to stop. "Please... I don't want... to hurt you... Brady." Sam labored out, breathing still difficult from his latest hit. His college friend looked at him and laughed, eyes flashing black as he looked down at the man before him.
"Brady's not here right now, although, he never really was." Confusion filled Sam's features as his color returned to normal, his breathing becoming easier. "Wh-what?"
"From the moment we met, I was already occupying your so-called 'friend.' Everything we did, every conversation we had, it was all fake. And you wanna know what the icing on the cake is?" The demon paused and nodded his head towards the woods to Sam's left where Azazel was observing Sam's training. "He didn't kill your girlfriend. I did."
Anger flared in Sam as the words sunk in and his whole body tensed. Demon-Brady noticed the change in the young Winchester's demeanor and smirked. "Of course, Azazel told me to get the bitch out of the way when he learned you were going to propose. Sam, let me just tell you how much fun it was-" Demon-Brady's words were cut short as he was choked by an invisible force. Sam stood up, hand extended in front of him.
"You will not speak like that about Jess. EVER." Sam glared at the demon in front of him.
"K-kill me, and y-your friend d-dies, too." Demon-Brady managed to squeak out.
"Kill you? Sounds like a great idea." With that, Sam closed his eyes and concentrated, causing black smoke to trail out of Brady's mouth, his body shaking as the demon was expelled from his body.
As Sam watched the smoke dissipate into the ground, he heard Azazel approach him from behind. "You didn't kill him, just sent him back to Hell." Disappointment was evident in his voice. "Honestly, Sam, when I saw how eager you were to train, I expected more from you. Now, I'm not saying this was a total bust, but it definitely took way too long for you to use your powers on him."
Sam turned to face Azazel. "The very first demon you have me face is someone I used to consider a friend of mine during my college years, and you expect me to unlock a hidden ability I don't know how to use, just like that?"
Azazel rolled his eyes. "C'mon, Sammy. Use that brain of yours. You can't let emotions cloud your judgement. This was lesson number one: everyone is your enemy. You will be leading an army of demons, Sammy. Although many of them will be faithful to you, there will be ones who plot against you. Don't let your guard down, and don't hold back from a kill."
With that, the woods disappeared in a flash. Sam's head started throbbing again, still not used to teleporting.
"Ugh, give me more of a warning next time." Sam groaned as his eyes slowly adjusted to the dimly lit room. He noted they were back in the asylum, the same room as before. Sam wondered if he would be able to explore or if he was trapped inside this one room. Sam sat down in his chair, willing the dizziness to go away.
Azazel's voice pounded on Sam's aching head. "Teleporting you three times in one day wasn't such a good idea. C'mon Sammy, I'll show you where your room is so you can get some rest. You have to be up in five hours for more training, so you'd better get rest while you can."
Sam stood and followed Azazel out the double doors into a long corridor. Torches lined the walls, casting a soft light across the hall. Sam saw what he assumed to be old patients' ward down a side hallway, locks on the outside to keep the patients in. He hoped to whatever deity was listening that he wouldn't get put one of those rooms. Sam inwardly sighed in relief as he realized Azazel had no intention of heading down that hallway.
Azazel stopped at the end of the hallway and turned towards the door to the right. "Here we are Sammy! Your new room! Get some rest, I can promise you tomorrow will not be as easy as today was." With a wink, Azazel turned and left, leaving Sam to his own devices.
This is a description of Sam's room. You may skip it if you like.
Sam opened the metal door, surprised it didn't creak loudly. As he stepped inside the room, Sam noted the lack of decorations. A king sized bed sat off a little to the left, two pillows and a beige comforter neatly placed upon it. On the mahogany bedside table sat a clock and a black table lamp. The walls were unadorned, painted a dark grey. The floor was hardwood, not a scratch to be seen. A desk stood by the window, curtains drawn shut, on the far left side, office supplies neatly arranged. On the right side was a wall filled with all the weapons a hunter could hope to have, every one polished and sharpened. A shelf lined the entire back wall, books going from one end to the other. A dresser was to the right of the door. To the right of that was another door, and upon further inspection, Sam realized it led to his bathroom. Sam's room was obviously newly refurbished; most other parts of the asylum had chipped paint, but not here.
If you skipped, start back here.
The room didn't have anything adorning the walls, no pointless decorations. Dean would've hated the lack of "life" the room had, but to Sam, it was perfect. Thinking of Dean made Sam even more determined to do well on the next training exercise. The sooner he mastered his abilities, the sooner he could kill Azazel and get back to hunting with his brother.
Sam got in a pair of sweats and a t-shirt he found in the dresser and climbed into bed. It was surprisingly comfortable, and Sam soon found himself in the deep recesses of sleep.
Sam awoke the next morning to a knock on his door. He opened his eyes slowly to find himself in an unfamiliar place. Sam sat up with a start. He relaxed, but only slightly, when he remembered the events of the previous night.
"Mr. Winchester." Sam heard someone outside his door address him, but not without noticing the crass undertone when he said it.
"Yeah?" Sam wasn't quite sure who this person was, but the guy didn't seem too fond of him.
The voice called again. "Mr. Winchester, you are requested to be in the main hall in ten minutes time." The voice held a bit more respect this time.
"Okay..." Sam figured the voice belonged to that of a demon, which explains why he heard contempt when it said his name. Sam got up and dressed for what was bound to be a long day, the dresser filled with all the types of clothes he likes to wear. The room was oddly catered to his every desire, and it bothered Sam more than he cared to admit.