Chapter 3
"Sammy...Saaaam. Sammy, wake up." Trinity poked her brother's cheek. "Hey, dude. I'm not carrying you inside."
He blinked a few times, coming to life with a gasp. Suddenly getting out of the car didn't seem important anymore. "Sam? You okay? You look...well, you look like you had a nightmare."
"No, nothing like that." He rubbed his face and got out of the car. Quickly Trinity followed, and grabbed his arm when he was steps from the door. Although he didn't have to, he stopped.
"You were having a nightmare," she stated. "What was it about? You usually don't let this stuff get to you."
"And it hasn't. I'm fine, Trinity."
She tightened her hold on his wrist before sighing. "Sam, if you answer me, I'll answer a question of yours, okay?"
His brows shot up. She was usually just as closed off as Dean, despite the six-year difference. "Really?"
"Yep. We've got to talk to each other at some point."
"Wow. Okay."
"So answer. What's going on?"
He rubbed his eyes and leaned against the wall of the room. "I'm having nightmares again. Like before, when I had the demon blood in me."
This time it was her brows that shot up. "Like what?"
He opened and closed his mouth, and she was surprised to see tears in his eyes. He cleared his throat. "It was...it was you and Dean. You were both dying." He closed his eyes tightly. "I watched both of you die."
When he raised his hand to wipe a tear away, Trinity latched onto him and buried her head in his jacket. She felt him grab her back as he returned the hug, but soon she also felt him shaking. She knew what it was like to watch her brothers die, as it had happened many times before, but it was heartbreaking each time.
She sighed. "I wanted to fit in."
"What?" He stepped back so he could see her.
"My eyes, and my hair. I wanted to fit in more, not feel so much like a monster, when I was younger. After a few years, I let my eyes be blue again, my natural blue, but recently...I don't know. I just wanted to feel like I actually belong in the family, and it helps when I look like I could be family."
He chuckled. "Our mom had blonde hair, Trin. And don't worry about that. You're as much my sister as Dean is my brother."
She nodded. "Yeah, I know. And Sammy, don't hesitate to tell me or Dean if you have one of these dreams again, okay?"
"Dean looked at me like I was a freak before; I'm not letting that happen again."
She nodded. "Okay. But I want to know. You will tell me, Sam."
He nodded. "Okay."
Dean poked his head out the door. "What're you two doing out here? Get inside."
~
"You said he's clean?" Dean asked.
"He hadn't touched a bottle of alcohol in two weeks," Mrs. Triston, wife of the alcohol poisoning victim, said. "He's been trying to be better for months, and he wouldn't have drunk himself sick like that!" She started to shake with tears, and Dean hit Trinity lightly on the leg, gesturing to her.
"Mrs. Triston, we just have one more question, and then we'll go. Did your husband have any enemies, anyone who would be holding a grudge against him, for any reason?"
She sniffed a few times before glancing up, almost nervously. "No. Not that I can think of."
"Call us if you remember anything." Dean handed her a business card and they walked out. "She's hiding something."
"Yep. We'll have to wait and see if she decides to talk."