Sam doesn't get back until the very late hours of the night. You can't sleep knowing he's out there, so you and your dad wait up until he comes home. When he does, you grow angry and cross your arms.
"Does there need to be an ass kicking?"
"Calm down, I didn't hurt anyone. I just drove around. No biggie," Sam shrugs.
"Mhmmm," you glare and take a seat at the table where you and your dad were playing poker.
Sam sees this and decides he wants to play, but you're not playing for fun. Your dad sets up the cards as he hands Sam a beer. Your iced tea is half full, and you're ready to play the most intense game of poker ever. It's even more intense than the poker game you had with the witch that used poker chips as lives.
"Let's make this interesting, shall we?" you ask as your dad deals the cards.
"What is it?"
"If I win, we do things my way. Stop interfering with Dean and I trying to save your life. I'm getting sick and tired of you, which is something I never thought I'd say."
"When I win, you don't go looking for my soul. I don't want it."
"You sound confident. Think you're going to win, don't you? I remember you couldn't even bluff correctly," you chuckle humorlessly.
"I've gotten pretty damn good."
"Yeah, so am I," you state. "Deal. Let's play."
The beginning of the game goes by without a hitch, and everyone deals and throws in chips where they can. Your dad can feel the tension between you and Sam. He doesn't like it, and he's not sure what might happen at the end of it all. He knows Sam won't ever stop trying to prevent you and Dean from getting his soul, and he knows you won't listen and continue to look for it. You're not sure if this whole thing with Death is going to be good or not, so you can't rely on it.
The game passes with your dad folding and dealing, starting new games and ending them until it's just you and Sam left. He's distracted, you can tell that much about him. He keeps looking behind you at something, but you don't want to look behind you. If he's trying to keep it a secret, then you don't want to give away that you know exactly what he's looking at.
It's moments like these that you love being a witch. One hand is on your stomach as he decides what to do, and you use that hidden visibility to your advantage. Your magic mists around your fingers, and you look at the mirror behind Sam. It's not pointed toward the kitchen, so you force it to turn so you can see what he's looking at. Your dad sees this, but he doesn't give away anything either.
"Pair of aces. Go," Sam interrupts your focus.
Luckily for you, the mirror is exactly where you want it to be. His eyes go back to whatever is behind you, and you see he's staring at a wrench that's sitting on the counter. Your eyes snap back to his, and you know his intentions aren't good. Your dad sees the same thing, and he clears his throat.
"Want another one?" your dad offers him another beer.
"Yeah, sure."
"I need some more tea," you say and get up to follow your dad to the kitchen.
Both yours and your dad's back are turned to Sam, but you can feel him coming towards you—or your dad. At the last second, you turn with angry, bright blue eyes. Your right hand grips his throat tightly, and your left hand stops by his head. Your magic from your left is swirling around his own hands to keep them from hitting you or your dad. He has the wrench in his hands, and you knew you had a bad feeling.
"I don't fucking think so, dick," you growl.
You slam your hands together, and Sam goes flying right into the oven. His head hits the corner of the counter, and you pant angrily. He really needs to be put in check.
"She may have been born at night, boy, but it wasn't last night."
"He won't be down for long. We have to tie him up now," you say and grab the rope.
However, when you turned back to Sam, he was gone.
"Shit," you squeak.
"Not good," your dad sighs.
"He could be anywhere," you whisper fearfully.
"Let's not do anything hasty here, Sam," your dad states loudly.
He grabs a shotgun just in case, and at this point, you hope he shoots Sam. You're terrified because this is exactly like those horror movies. Sam is soulless, so you have no idea what he is capable of. The light in your father's house isn't that great, so the house is pretty dark as it is. Your dad is the one with the gun, so you stay behind him as you two trek the hallways of the bottom half of the house.
When you get to the hall closet, you hear the wood creaking behind you, so your dad opens the door and ushers you inside. He closes and locks the door, and you two just stand there in the dark. A few seconds pass and the doorknob rattles. Suddenly, Sam hits the door with an axe, attempting to knock it down. You scream and cover your ears due to the loud noise.
"Sam! Stop!" you scream.
You don't want to be afraid of him anymore, so you do the only thing you know you're good at. Magic forms at your hands, and you throw balls of it at Sam. He stumbles back with each blow, but he bounces back faster than the last. He continues to hack up the door, and you realize that your magic is doing nothing to him.
"Don't say, 'here's Johnny'," your dad sighs.
"I got to do this, Bobby. I'm sorry. You two shouldn't have cornered yourself."
"I didn't!" he yells.
You didn't know this, but your dad has a button inside the closet that opens up a trap door right underneath Sam's feet. Sam falls through the floor and into the basement. You're so tired of all this shit, it can't be good for the baby.
"Come on," your dad sighs and leads you out of the closet carefully.
"He better be trapped down there."
"He is," he nods.
You get to the basement door just as Sam takes a crowbar to the door. Sam is starting to really scare you, and you absolutely hate it. He's supposed to be your best friend, not your worst enemy.
"Reinforced steel core and titanium kick plate. Get comfy. You want to explain what this is about?" Your dad says through the door.
"I just, uh... I have to do this, Bobby."
"Says who?" you ask.
"If Dean shoves that soul back in me, just think how bad that could really be. I can't let it happen. I mean, it's not like I want to kill you. You've been nothing but good to me. I don't want to hurt you, Y/N, but you're getting in my way."
"So, is it a demon deal or something?"
"Spell."
"You're making a mistake, Sam."
"I'm trying to survive."
"You're acting this way because you're scared. You're scared because you don't know what's going to happen if this happens. Maybe this wall stays up and maybe it doesn't, but you live with a fucking light witch. My powers are increasing every time I use it. You're my best friend, you think I wouldn't try to help you? You're not alone in this."
"I'm sorry, I can't believe that. You two just don't care about me. All you two care about is his little brother and your best friend Sammy, burning in hell. You'll kill me to get that other guy back."
"You'll kill us first," you state.
"Look, I know how scary it is. But you know what's scarier? You right now. You're not in your right head, Sam. You're not giving us much choice here," your dad says. There is no response. "Sam?" Nothing. "Balls!"
You open the door carefully, not knowing if Sam is going to jump and attack you just to get out of here. However he wasn't even by the door. You know he's bleeding from his head from when you threw him into the oven, so all you have to do is follow the trail of blood.
"Ain't nobody killing me and my family in my house but me. I don't want to blow your legs out, boy, but I will," your dad said loudly to make sure Sam hears him.
Sam is capable of anything at this point, so you have to be prepared for anything. The basement is dark and quiet until you see the door to the panic room. Something is calling you to go over there, so you nudge your dad to follow you. You grip the door handle and open the little window to peer inside. You don't see the cot because there is a ladder standing in front of it.
"He didn't," you mutter.
"Didn't what?"
You open the door to reveal Sam had escaped through the vent on the ceiling inside the panic room. That, and when you pull your hand away from the handle, you see blood covering almost every inch of it.
"He's here somewhere. He said he had to kill you, so he wouldn't leave. We have to find him before he finds us."
"That vent leads outside. Stay close, but if you see him, you run. I don't need my grandbaby and my baby in danger."
"Okay," you whisper and follow him outside.
If inside the house was dark, outside the house is even more. The moon reflects on all the junker cars surrounding the house, but it doesn't help in lighting your path. Sam could be under the cars, inside them, behind them, and virtually anywhere you can think of.
"Can't you use your magic as a thermoscan kind of thing? I remember Dean saying you could do that."
"Yeah, with souls. I don't see heat, I see souls no matter how tainted. Sam doesn't have one, so I won't be able to see him. I've tried it before," you whisper before getting a glimpse of the blood on your hands. You tried wiping most of it off on your jeans, but there are some stains left. "He's bleeding. We follow the trail, we find him."
"Good idea," your dad nods and takes the lead.
You two maneuver around the junkyard with ease, following the trail of blood. The shed in the back of the junkyard is less than twenty feet away, and your dad stops you by placing a hand on your shoulder.
"Stay here. I don't want you getting hurt."
"Okay, stay safe," you sigh worriedly.
Your dad continues the trek to the shed, disappearing behind one of the walls. The doors are open, but they aren't facing you so you can't see what is going on. The air is thick and silent, so you try to listen to what might be going on. Nothing happens for the first few minutes, but then you hear your dad yell out in pain.
"Dad!" you exclaim and rush over to the shed.
You halt to a complete stop when you see the scene in front of you. On the ground is a symbol drawn with chalk (probably the spell Sam was talking about earlier) with your dad tied to a chair right in the middle of it. That's not the surprising thing that has you struck with fear. Sam is standing between you and your dad, and he's holding a gun right at you in his right hand with a knife in his left. Once he knows you understand what's happening, he moves the barrel of the gun from your head to your stomach.
"I don't want to shoot, but I will. You know I will. Don't move. No magic," he says coldly.
Tears fill your eyes quickly, but you refuse to let them fall. They just sit there and pile up the longer Sam points that gun at you.