How many times in his life was he going to get smacked over the head? Seriously, this was starting to get old and fast. All he could remember was taking on a few demons possessed humans with Jo Harvelle, the blond hunter that had come back from the dead. He was taking one on hand to hand before someone had knocked him in the head. Damn demons always played dirty.
“I know it sucks,” Sam pulled one of the chairs in the room closer to the bed and grabbed a seat. If he could have avoided bringing her here he would have but she was so pale when he found her…
He shook his head trying to dodge the thought of Jo not coming back from this one. Sam had to keep reminding himself that she was fine and alive. For now anyway, “Just hold out a little longer okay? Dean and I will take you home as soon as they let you out.”
He was supposed to be getting a meal for the two of them, him and Dean, but that became the last thing on his mind. After twenty minutes of looking for some place to eat, his phone flared to life with a text message and Sam swore. If it had been Dean reminding him about the pie, again, he was going to murder his brother himself. But it hadn’t been and Sam found himself wishing that it had. The words on the screen read ‘Text from Jo’ and Sam at the time had smiled. They often texted each other, if Dean was driving him crazy or she was just bored, so he didn’t think anything of it. It wasn’t until he found the one word in the text that meant trouble. It was something he had set up with Jo whenever he discovered she was hunting alone with no partner to cover her back. It put his mind at ease and the word would only be used if she was in trouble.
The word was William and it had Sam slamming on the brakes and jerking the car in the opposite direction. He didn’t care how far she was, or how long it took, he would track her down and keep her alive. He didn’t bother to call Dean, his main concern was getting a location from his friend and finding her, Dean could wait for once.
He was lucky, she was only a twenty minute drive out of the town they were in.
The house he found her in was abandon and Jo…Jo was a mess.
“Hey, c’mon, stay with me,” Sam’s fingers curled around her jacket as he lifted her from the floor into his arms, “it’s me Jo, focus…c’mon….”
A lot of things had been going on as of late, things that had kept the younger Winchester on his toes. The source of the problem revolved around the worry he held for his brother. Something was going on, something was causing Dean’s memory trouble, and Sam wanted to find out what. Even with Dean telling him not to worry about it, to focus on the job or whatever they were doing and forget about it, Sam was often times up until sunrise researching what he could while Dean slept. Some nights, well some nights he would find himself waking his brother up from the nightmares the onslaught of memories caused. It never got easier seeing Dean like that.
Which was why Sam was outside now, in the cool early spring air with his hands in his jacket pockets. He couldn’t keep himself locked up in the motel room any longer, with Dean just sitting there and acting like nothing was wrong. Everything was wrong, and the young hunter knew it. The truth was, Sam was terrified of the idea that something really was messing with his brother’s mind.
He’d just have to focus more and find out what the hell it really was.
A couple passed him by, arms around each other, and laughing as they moved through the night. Something that could only be described as longing tugged at his heart strings, but Sam ignored it. He had given up on a normal life years ago, practically given up on relationships all together after Ruby. With his lifestyle, there was no chance at a final happiness with someone else. It was just going to be him for the rest of his life. Strangely, Sam often times found that he was okay with that.
A rustling in the woods off the path he had been walking was what had made him stop, but the familiar shape of an injured human being was what made him run off it. He was armed with enough things to take on whatever tried to attack him and Sam wasn’t going to risk letting some innocent person die because he was afraid of what was hiding in the dark.
As he drew closer, he realized the body was a woman and the blond strands that rested on her head shot a blast of familiarity through Sam. He knew better though, knew that the blond he was thinking of would never be coming back alive again, “Hey, can you hear me?” Sam took hold of the woman’s jacket, lifting her from the ground and turning her on her back in his arms. The minute he saw her face, something stabbed him in the heart. The sense of familiarity he had gotten before had been right, and he wouldn’t believe it if he wasn’t staring down at an unconscious Jo Harvelle in his arms.
“J–Jo?” His voice cracked as his hand reached up to touch her face, the skin was warm and not cold as someone who was dead would hold. He continued down towards her jugular, checking for some kind of pulse and was actually surprised when he found one. Using one arm under her shoulders, Sam lifted her up higher and shook her gently, “Jo, hey Jo wake up. It’s me, it’s Sam.”