Prompt #18 - Who Would've Thought
Author: dayaftertexas
Characters: Sam Winchester
Prompt: #18 at Spn_Halloween
Rating: G
Summary: Sam's first Halloween at Stanford.
It’s Halloween and Sam is pretty sure he’s the only one in Branner Hall that’s studying. Actually, he’s pretty sure he’s the only one in Branner Hall period.
A loud bang from next door shattered the quiet of the small dorm room, proving his assumption wrong. His pencil slid out of his grasp, rolling off of the table and onto the floor.
Adam Wilson’s deep laugh is followed by the high-pitched giggle of a girl and another bang on the wall.
Sam sighs, picking up the pencil and twirling it between his fingers absentmindly, wondering what his Dad and brother are doing at this very second.
He can picture them perfectly, holed up in some dirty motel. Dean is pacing around the room, grumbling about how he hates Halloween when in reality Sam knows Dean would kill to spend a Halloween at a party or even just watching classic horror movies on the television. Sam knows he does it to make Dad happy. To make their Dad feel as if he’s not taking anything away from them, which he has all their lives. Sam never went trick or treating and he’s pretty sure Dean only went once or twice when Mary was still alive.
“It’s too dangerous.” He could hear his father say when Sam had asked him if he could go door to door with his friends when he was around the age of eight. “You know what’s out there, Sam.”
Right now, Sam figured John is most likely hunched over a pile of newspapers, taking notes about which locals to interrogate next and wiping his tired eyes because it was always Sam’s job to research. He was always given the “dirty work” as Dean called it but Sam had always preferred ancient books to shotguns and rock salt.
Sam turned back to his English assignment, trying to ignore the pounding of his next-door neighbors little rendezvous. He was slipping on his headphones as the door opened and Rick walked in.
Sam’s room mate is tall, almost as tall as himself and in the dim light, Sam can see that he is dressed as a doctor, complete with a stethoscope wrapped around his neck. Sam smirks. How fitting. Rick is pre-med. Rick flipped on the main light, giving Sam a better look at his costume.
“Rick! Fuck! Are you hurt?” Sam practically leaps out of his chair and begins to tug at Rick’s white lab coat…which is covered with blood.
“Are you on drugs or something man?” Rick laughs. It can’t be that severe if Rick is laughing, right? Then again, Rick is always laughing and Sam wouldn’t put it past him. “It’s fake blood man.”
Sam stumbles backwards, his hand dropping to his side.
“Oh.”
“The theatre majors got a hold of some stage make up. They were spraying fake blood all over the place! It looks pretty real though huh?”
“Yeah.” Sam says quietly. A part of him wants to scream that blood isn’t a joke. It’s not funny. Not when you’ve practically carried your own brother to the hospital when he’s covered in it. Sam’s seen enough blood in his life and never wants to see it again. Fake or not.
Sam sits back down at the desk, turning to his papers and shuffling through them to make himself look busy because he knows what’s coming next.
“Dude. Don’t tell me you haven’t moved since I left you.” Rick says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a handful of tootsie rolls. He tosses one to Sam before unwrapping his own and popping it into his mouth.
“You can’t spend your first Halloween at Stanford studying!” Rick sounds truly appalled. “I mean, wait until senior year or something!”
Sam doesn’t reply and doesn’t eat the candy. He just sets it beside his paper and leans back in his chair.
“Come on Sam!” Rick groans. “It’s Halloween. Live a little!”
“I’m not even halfway done with the paper and it’s due tomorrow.”
“For Professor Milo’s class?” Rick asks and Sam nods.
“Dude. He was joking when he said it was due tomorrow. You know, it’s not due until next Friday.”
Sam shrugged, knowing Rick was right. In fact, none of the Professors had assigned any work due tomorrow and freshmen were taking advantage of the free night. So much for his attempt at a plausible reason why he wasn’t out enjoying the festivities.
“You know.” Rick leans forward, trying to be mysterious but the big smile on his face says otherwise. Sam just can’t take his friend seriously. Everything from Rick’s crazy hair to the mischievous smirk always plastered on his face makes it hard for anyone to take Rick seriously. It just looks like he’s joking…all of the time.
“It’s rumored that Roble Hall is haunted. They say a kid killed himself back in the eighties. I guess he couldn’t take finals at Stanford.” Rick continued.
“Not looking forward to that by the way.” He countered and Sam nodded.
“Anyways, some girls from Pi Beta Phi are already up there holding a séance or something.” Rick waggled his eyebrows.
Sam doesn’t move and the realization hits him. He didn’t come to Stanford because of the education. I mean, sure that was a plus but honestly he would have been just as happy at another school. He came to Stanford to get away.
“Uh Sam.” Rick waved his hand in front of Sam’s face. “Sorority Girls. Séance. Roble Hall. You in?”
“A Séance?” Sam repeats.
“Yeah!” Rick sounds positively thrilled.
Sam closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath. He pinches the bridge of his nose and looks at Rick.
“They can’t do that.”
“Uh. Yeah they can and they are. So move your ass Winchester. Let’s go and join them. Maybe some chick will even want to hold your hand.” Rick sounds so Dean-like right now that it makes Sam’s chest ache.
Dean. Sam missed Dean, more then he had ever missed anything. The first few weeks at Stanford had been a blur. He had been so busy meeting new people, arranging his schedule and attending freshmen events that it had been easy to forget about Dean for a couple minutes. But right now he knew that he hadn’t forgotten him, he had just pushed his memory away.
But right now, he wanted Dean more then ever but Dean wasn’t here and it was his fault. HE was the one who left Dean and Dad. Sam wanted this. He had to make himself believe that he wanted this.
“We have to stop them.”
“Don’t tell me you believe in all that mumbo-jumbo?” Rick teases.
Sam doesn’t respond and Rick looks confused for a moment but shrugs.
When Sam grabs his jacket and Rick whoops.
“Who would have thought? Sam Mr. Serious Winchester worked up about a séance!”
And when Rick isn’t looking, Sam reaches for the bag of salt that Dean had slipped into his duffel before he left. A part of him can’t help but look around, hoping maybe Dean was here because this is what Dean did. Hunted.
Yeah. Who would have thought he’d end up hunting on Halloween. Hunting Alone.
Characters: Sam Winchester
Prompt: #18 at Spn_Halloween
Rating: G
Summary: Sam's first Halloween at Stanford.
It’s Halloween and Sam is pretty sure he’s the only one in Branner Hall that’s studying. Actually, he’s pretty sure he’s the only one in Branner Hall period.
A loud bang from next door shattered the quiet of the small dorm room, proving his assumption wrong. His pencil slid out of his grasp, rolling off of the table and onto the floor.
Adam Wilson’s deep laugh is followed by the high-pitched giggle of a girl and another bang on the wall.
Sam sighs, picking up the pencil and twirling it between his fingers absentmindly, wondering what his Dad and brother are doing at this very second.
He can picture them perfectly, holed up in some dirty motel. Dean is pacing around the room, grumbling about how he hates Halloween when in reality Sam knows Dean would kill to spend a Halloween at a party or even just watching classic horror movies on the television. Sam knows he does it to make Dad happy. To make their Dad feel as if he’s not taking anything away from them, which he has all their lives. Sam never went trick or treating and he’s pretty sure Dean only went once or twice when Mary was still alive.
“It’s too dangerous.” He could hear his father say when Sam had asked him if he could go door to door with his friends when he was around the age of eight. “You know what’s out there, Sam.”
Right now, Sam figured John is most likely hunched over a pile of newspapers, taking notes about which locals to interrogate next and wiping his tired eyes because it was always Sam’s job to research. He was always given the “dirty work” as Dean called it but Sam had always preferred ancient books to shotguns and rock salt.
Sam turned back to his English assignment, trying to ignore the pounding of his next-door neighbors little rendezvous. He was slipping on his headphones as the door opened and Rick walked in.
Sam’s room mate is tall, almost as tall as himself and in the dim light, Sam can see that he is dressed as a doctor, complete with a stethoscope wrapped around his neck. Sam smirks. How fitting. Rick is pre-med. Rick flipped on the main light, giving Sam a better look at his costume.
“Rick! Fuck! Are you hurt?” Sam practically leaps out of his chair and begins to tug at Rick’s white lab coat…which is covered with blood.
“Are you on drugs or something man?” Rick laughs. It can’t be that severe if Rick is laughing, right? Then again, Rick is always laughing and Sam wouldn’t put it past him. “It’s fake blood man.”
Sam stumbles backwards, his hand dropping to his side.
“Oh.”
“The theatre majors got a hold of some stage make up. They were spraying fake blood all over the place! It looks pretty real though huh?”
“Yeah.” Sam says quietly. A part of him wants to scream that blood isn’t a joke. It’s not funny. Not when you’ve practically carried your own brother to the hospital when he’s covered in it. Sam’s seen enough blood in his life and never wants to see it again. Fake or not.
Sam sits back down at the desk, turning to his papers and shuffling through them to make himself look busy because he knows what’s coming next.
“Dude. Don’t tell me you haven’t moved since I left you.” Rick says, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a handful of tootsie rolls. He tosses one to Sam before unwrapping his own and popping it into his mouth.
“You can’t spend your first Halloween at Stanford studying!” Rick sounds truly appalled. “I mean, wait until senior year or something!”
Sam doesn’t reply and doesn’t eat the candy. He just sets it beside his paper and leans back in his chair.
“Come on Sam!” Rick groans. “It’s Halloween. Live a little!”
“I’m not even halfway done with the paper and it’s due tomorrow.”
“For Professor Milo’s class?” Rick asks and Sam nods.
“Dude. He was joking when he said it was due tomorrow. You know, it’s not due until next Friday.”
Sam shrugged, knowing Rick was right. In fact, none of the Professors had assigned any work due tomorrow and freshmen were taking advantage of the free night. So much for his attempt at a plausible reason why he wasn’t out enjoying the festivities.
“You know.” Rick leans forward, trying to be mysterious but the big smile on his face says otherwise. Sam just can’t take his friend seriously. Everything from Rick’s crazy hair to the mischievous smirk always plastered on his face makes it hard for anyone to take Rick seriously. It just looks like he’s joking…all of the time.
“It’s rumored that Roble Hall is haunted. They say a kid killed himself back in the eighties. I guess he couldn’t take finals at Stanford.” Rick continued.
“Not looking forward to that by the way.” He countered and Sam nodded.
“Anyways, some girls from Pi Beta Phi are already up there holding a séance or something.” Rick waggled his eyebrows.
Sam doesn’t move and the realization hits him. He didn’t come to Stanford because of the education. I mean, sure that was a plus but honestly he would have been just as happy at another school. He came to Stanford to get away.
“Uh Sam.” Rick waved his hand in front of Sam’s face. “Sorority Girls. Séance. Roble Hall. You in?”
“A Séance?” Sam repeats.
“Yeah!” Rick sounds positively thrilled.
Sam closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath. He pinches the bridge of his nose and looks at Rick.
“They can’t do that.”
“Uh. Yeah they can and they are. So move your ass Winchester. Let’s go and join them. Maybe some chick will even want to hold your hand.” Rick sounds so Dean-like right now that it makes Sam’s chest ache.
Dean. Sam missed Dean, more then he had ever missed anything. The first few weeks at Stanford had been a blur. He had been so busy meeting new people, arranging his schedule and attending freshmen events that it had been easy to forget about Dean for a couple minutes. But right now he knew that he hadn’t forgotten him, he had just pushed his memory away.
But right now, he wanted Dean more then ever but Dean wasn’t here and it was his fault. HE was the one who left Dean and Dad. Sam wanted this. He had to make himself believe that he wanted this.
“We have to stop them.”
“Don’t tell me you believe in all that mumbo-jumbo?” Rick teases.
Sam doesn’t respond and Rick looks confused for a moment but shrugs.
When Sam grabs his jacket and Rick whoops.
“Who would have thought? Sam Mr. Serious Winchester worked up about a séance!”
And when Rick isn’t looking, Sam reaches for the bag of salt that Dean had slipped into his duffel before he left. A part of him can’t help but look around, hoping maybe Dean was here because this is what Dean did. Hunted.
Yeah. Who would have thought he’d end up hunting on Halloween. Hunting Alone.