Sam slipped out of the passenger seat of Dee's car and onto wobbly legs. One of his hips popped in quiet annoyance for sitting for so long. Well, they were home now so it could stop complaining. Sam stretched a little and closed the car door behind him ( Read more... )

Sam lay slumped on the bed in the room the mental institution assigned him. Dean came by once to see how he was doing and tell him that he was going to find him help but... Sam knew here wasn't any help out there for him ( Read more... )

Sam looked at Dee from over the top of his computer, nervousness kicking in. She'd been with the boys for a few days, somewhat because Sam was afraid of her getting hurt but it was mostly because he needed to get her trained before she went out on her own. He knew she'd be protected now since she got that anti-possession tattoo above her hip but ( Read more... )

Sam kept drifting in and out of consciousness.  He was seriously getting sick of his head being used as a punching bag. He swore... next person who hit him in the head was getting a bullet in the chest. Or... at least they would in theory... He was pretty sure his gun had been knocked out of his hand by the thing that he and Dean were hunting. Dean ( Read more... )