Supernatural One-Shots

It's Only a Stab Wound

Sam is 18 (Freshman in college), Dean is 22

...

The dining hall is mostly quiet, it's early on Saturday morning so most people are still sleeping off their hangover. The people who are there are dressed in pajamas and look like zombies. Ok so maybe a little less terrifying than zombies, but zombies nonetheless. 

Sam grabs a plate off of the cart and fills it with eggs and fried potatoes. Besides Dean's mac and cheese on a hot plate, this is as close to 'home cooked' that Sam will most likely ever get. 

A girl with long blonde hair and beautiful eyes smiles up at the ex-hunter, Jess. College is a harder adjustment than Sam ever thought it would be, he assumed being able to study and read all the time would make him happy. It's not that it doesn't, rather he misses the chaos of Dean and even sometimes his dad. 

"Hey, Jess," the floppy-haired Freshman greets as he slips into the chair across from his girlfriend. Jess has been a lifesaver, without Dean being there he was lost, Jess has always been there for him. 

"So are you going to go out with us tonight?" She asks raising her eyebrows in hope, "Please, you've been studying the entire week. I want to have fun!" 

Letting out an over-exaggerated sigh, Sam pretends to think over the proposal, "Yeah, sure."

The rest of breakfast is filled with conversation, well, mostly Jess explaining the elaborate plans that she and her friends made up. First, they are going to pregame at Brady's place and then make thier way out to the bars. 

Sam can't help but think about how much Dean would like that. 

...

After the first two beers, Jess is visibly a little tipsy. Not too much, but her face is flushed and she giggles at nearly anything someone says. Sam is sipping his 2nd slower, he's no stranger to drinking, and no lightweight either, but he doesn't trust himself to get drunk. 

He doesn't know what he will say, and a small part of him still feels the need to be able to fight.  If anything bad were to happen, he wants to be able to stop it before it gets out of hand. 

The first time Sam got drunk, he was with Dean. It was a fun night, the two didn't even leave the hotel. However, Dean will never let him live down the things that he said. Apparently, when he is drunk he is a talker, something he doesn't want to do too much of anymore. 

"Heyy," Brady says leaning against the wall, "Sam, how come you never talk about your family? I mean we've all been friends for a long time and you know about ours?"

Jess frowns and looks over to Sam. The man in question furrows his brows, after all, they are right. It's a little strange that he hasn't mentioned his family even once to his best friends, girlfriend even. "Uh, I have an older brother. Dean. My mom passed away, and my dad worked a lot," he says shifting in his seat. Before anyone can say anything he smiles, "not much to tell, y'know?"

Jess smiles, "I think it's time to go to the bars," she laughs and pushes herself up from the couch. 

...

It's dark out when the group begins their walk to the bar. Thier favorite bar is about a 10-minute walk, and the Palo Alto air is a comfortable temperature. The group of friends talks and laughs, reminiscing about the past weekends in college and at home. 

Sam doesn't say too much, surveying the area and watching out for threats. It's not even that he is trying too, he just can't help it. It's natural, it's safe. 

Through the noise of his friends, is a muffled voice, then the shuffle of shoes. Sam stops immediately, looking for the source of the noise. It leads into a dark alleyway.