Written by: KariGorsuch

"What do you remember?" Eve asked softly. Her voice was gentle, but the weight of her words settled harder onto my shoulders. I squeezed my eyes shut, and in the darkness behind my lids, the images came.

Sam, standing at the end of the hallway, his back to me. His clothes were torn, blood seeping through the fabric.

"Sam," I breathed, stepping toward him.

"I-" My voice came out hoarse, like I had been screaming. "I don't know."

His head lolled unnaturally to the side, like something had taken hold of him. When he turned to face me, his eyes weren't his own.

They were golden.

The demon's voice slithered out from Sam's lips. "Did you really think you could keep him?"

I wasn't lying- not completely. I shuddered, my fingers twitching beneath Sam's. My chest felt tight, like something was coiling around my lungs, making it impossible to breathe.

"Bri?" Sam's voice was low and careful, as if he knew I was slipping. His grip on my hands tightened slightly, trying to ground me, but it only sent a jolt of panic through my already spiraling mind.

I ripped my hands out from under his, scrambling to my feet. "I- I need-" the movement was too fast, too abrupt- and the world spun.

I stumbled, my vision blurring for a moment as I felt the ground shift beneath me. Strong hands caught my arms and pulled me into an unfamiliar chest. It rumbled beneath my head, worry replacing Dean's usual cocky demeanor. "Bri? What's wrong?"

"Just... lost my balance."

"Bullshit. You had another nightmare." Eve didn't even bother phrasing it as a question, throwing my secret out in the open.

My heart skipped a beat as Eve's words hung in the air, adding another layer of tension. I froze, feeling Dean's hands tense on my arms. "Bri- what is she talking about?"

I felt the world slow down for a moment, the air thick with the weight of Eve's words. My stomach churned, and I instinctively tried to pull away from Dean, but his grip only tightened, keeping me in place.

I swallowed, trying to find the right words, but nothing came out. The bathroom felt too small- too suffocating. I could feel Sam and Eve's eyes on me, the unspoken demand and questions hanging in the air like a fog.

"Bri," Dean's voice cut through the silence, more serious now, more concerned. "What is she talking about? What nightmares?"

I took a slow breath, and finally, my voice broke through, quiet and almost shaky. "I've been having nightmares. About... Sam. About losing him." I hesitated, my throat tightening, and I felt Sam stiffen behind me. "Worse than that- there's this Yellow-eyed fuck that keeps showing up."

"Azazel," Sam muttered, his tone turning dangerous.

I turned to face him, pulling away from Dean. "He taunts me," I continued, my voice dropping. "He taunts me about losing you. Like one day, everyone I lo- care about- I'm going to lose."

Sam's face darkened, his jaw tightening as his hands clenched into fists. "Bri," he started, his voice low and edged with something I couldn't quite place- fear, anger, maybe both. "Why the hell didn't you tell me?"

I laughed bitterly. "Tell you? Sam, you decided what was best for me, without considering me. Why the hell would I tell you? So you can make another decision about my life without talking to me about it?" I looked away, wrapping my arms around myself. "The only time I didn't have them is when we shared the same bed."

Sam flinched like my words had physically struck him. His shoulders tensed, and he looked down, exhaling sharply. "Bri... that's not-" He cut himself off, running a hand down his face, frustration evident in every movement. "I was trying to protect you."

I let out a hollow laugh, shaking my head. "Protect me? Sam, you left me. You made that choice for both of us, without even talking to me about it." My voice cracked, and I hated how raw it sounded. "And now? I can't even sleep without seeing you ripped away from me. Possessed. Gone."

His eyes snapped back to mine, wide with something I couldn't decipher. "Possessed?" His voice dropped to a whisper, like the word alone was enough to suffocate him.

I hesitated, but there was no point in holding back now. "The yellow-eyed demon- this Azazel," I admitted, my throat tightening. "In my dreams, he... takes you. And he looks at me- through your eyes- and he laughs, Sam. He tells me I'll never be able to keep you."

Sam took a step toward me, but I instinctively took one back. His face twisted with something between pain and regret. "Bri..." His voice was softer now, gentler, but I couldn't let it pull me in. Not when I was barely holding myself together.

"The only time I didn't have them," I forced myself to repeat, "was when we were together. When I knew you were right there next to me. And you took that away, too."

I threw the towel onto the sink, ignoring the red now staining it. My palm stung, but the pain was a distraction from the looks everyone else was giving me. "Stop staring at me like I'm a damn freak show. I'm fine."

Dean scoffed. "Having nightmares involving Azazel is anything but fine, Brianna."

"Wait-" Eve interrupted, crossing her arms. "I thought you guys already took care of him? This can't be the same demon if you did."

"If it's not Azazel- who the fuck is screwing with my head?" I pushed past Eve and Dean, starting to pace the length of our room. "Can angels do this shit? Are angels even real?"

"Angels?" Dean snorted, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Yeah, Angels," I snapped, spinning to face him as he sat down on Eve's bed. "Demons are real, why the hell wouldn't Angels be real? You mean to tell me that you've been hunting for years- and never once seen an Angel?"

Sam sighed, standing halfway between me and my bed as I paced. "Dad might have. Who knows what he's run into."

"You can ask him. If I go the rest of my life without seeing his face again, I can die happy." The words left my mouth before I could stop them, and as soon as I said it, I regretted it. I froze, my chest tightening as I turned to look at Sam. "I'm sorry I-"

Sam stiffened, but then he relaxed. "No, you're not wrong." He chuckled lightly. "Hell, I felt the same way for the longest time."

I bit my lip, dropping my gaze to the floor. "I didn't mean it like that, Sam. I shouldn't have said it."

"I get it," he replied, but his voice lacked any sort of sharp edge to it. "It's possible something else is messing with you. You don't get much sleep after you have one of them, do you?"

I shook my head, keeping my eyes on the floor. "I don't go back to sleep."

Dean's voice cut through the tension like a knife. "Shit." He ran a hand over his face, looking at me with a mixture of concern and disbelief. "And you have these every night?"

"Near enough," I muttered, my chest tightening again.

Dean cursed under his breath, looking at me like he couldn't decide whether to throttle me or pull me into a hug. "You've been keeping this to yourself the whole time?" His tone turned a little softer, but the worry behind it was unmistakable.

"...Eve knew about the last one, but only because I woke her up." I shifted on my feet, suddenly exhausted.

Sam's expression darkened, his jaw tightening as he took a small step closer, one hand sliding around my waist. I didn't fight it, only leaned into his side as he guided me to sit on my own bed.

"You should have said something," Eve muttered as she knelt in front of me, pulling one of my hands forward to inspect the cuts.

I huffed out a humorless laugh, watching as Eve examined the cuts from the mirror glass. "Yeah, 'cause that would've gone over so well."

Sam's hand was still firm at my waist, his thumb brushing absently against my side. "Bri, c'mon," he murmured, voice low, thick with something I couldn't quite place—concern, regret, maybe both. "You should've told us."

I scoffed, shaking my head. "Told you? And then what? You already decided we couldn't be a thing, Sam. And guess what? The only time I wasn't having these nightmares was when I was with you. And you took that away." My voice wavered, but I pushed through. "So, forgive me if I didn't feel like sharing."

Eve squeezed my wrist, pulling my attention back as she carefully wiped the dried blood away. "Even if Sam's being an idiot—"

"Hey," Sam protested, but Eve ignored him.

"—We're still here."

Dean cleared his throat. "Step one—get some damn sleep before you faceplant. And you're not sleeping alone."

I blinked, caught off guard. "Bobby said y'all aren't allowed to sleep up here—"

"I'll handle Bobby," Dean cut in, pointing between Sam and me. "You said the nightmares stop when he's with you. So, guess what, Sammy? You're on sleep duty."

The door swung open then, revealing Bobby and John standing in the doorway. Bobby's sharp gaze flicked to Dean first. "You'll handle me, huh?"

Dean straightened, looking caught but not backing down. "Bobby—"

"You idjits think I don't hear everything that goes on in my own damn house?" Bobby shook his head, stepping further into the room.

John's arms were already crossed, his expression twisted in a sneer as his gaze landed on Sam. "So this is what we're doing now? Coddling her?" His voice was dripping with judgment. "Serious—"

"That's rich, coming from you," Sam shot up off the bed, voice sharp, eyes burning with anger. "Maybe if you stopped treating everything like a goddamn training exercise, we wouldn't be so screwed up."

John's jaw ticked, but Bobby cut in before the fight could escalate. "You done?" His glare could've peeled paint off the walls. "'Cause I've had just about enough of your damn opinions, John. You don't like how I run my house, you know where the door is."

John's nostrils flared, but he didn't say anything. Just clenched his jaw tighter, his teeth grinding beneath his skin.

Dean let out a low whistle. "Damn, Bobby. Tell us how you really feel."

Bobby shot him a look. "You want me to start with you, too, boy?"

Dean held up his hands. "Nope, I'm good."

I reached for Sam's wrist, my fingers curling around it gently. "I've managed this long, it's okay."

Sam's gaze snapped to me, his expression still hard, but something softer flickered beneath it. "It's not."

I swallowed, my throat tight, but before I could say anything, John scoffed. "Of course you'd say that. You always did have a weakness for attachments, Sam. Makes you—oof."

John staggered back a step, cut off mid-sentence as Eve shoved him. Hard.

"That's enough," she snapped.

John steadied himself, his eyes darkening as he looked down at Eve, irritation flickering into something colder. "You wanna try that again?" His tone was low, almost daring her.

Eve didn't even hesitate. "Yeah, I do. You don't get to stand here and act like Sam giving a damn is some kind of weakness." She jabbed a finger into his chest. "You wanna talk about weakness? How about pushing away the people who actually give a shit about you? How about making your son feel like he's never enough? That's weakness."

John's jaw locked, but for a moment, he didn't have a response. His silence only made Eve press harder.

"So here's what's gonna happen," she continued. "You're gonna take a deep breath, turn around, and walk out that door before you say something else you can't take back."

The room was dead silent.

Then John scoffed, shaking his head like he couldn't believe what had just happened. His gaze flicked to Sam, something unreadable passing over his face before he looked over at Dean.

"Control your pet."

The words barely left his mouth before I was on my feet, shoving past Sam and Eve, forcing the vampire behind me. "Excuse me? The fuck did you just say?"

John barely had time to register my words before I was in front of him, fists clenched at my sides, shaking with anger.

"You don't ever talk about her like that," I seethed. "Not now, not ever."

John tilted his head, that damn smirk of his just making my blood boil hotter. "Oh, that's cute. You think you're scary, sweetheart?" He scoffed. "You're just another liability. Just like Eve. Just like-"

Crack.

John barely had time to flinch before Sam's fist connected with his jaw, sending him stumbling back against the doorframe.

He wiped at his mouth, smearing the blood my palm had left across his cheek, then let out a slow, humorless chuckle. "Finally grew a spine, huh?"

Sam was breathing hard, hands shaking at his sides. "No. You can talk all the bullshit you want about Dean and me, but you don't get to say a word about them."

John let out another low chuckle, rolling his jaw as he straightened. "That so?" His gaze flicked between me and Eve, then back to Sam. "Didn't realize you boys had gone soft."

Sam took a step forward, his fists still clenched, but Dean shoved himself between them before the fight could go any farther.

"Alright, that's enough," Dean barked, shooting Eve a warning glance as he shoved Sam back with one hand before turning a glare on their father. "We done here? Or do we gotta beat the crap outta each other before someone finally says what they really mean?"

John narrowed his eyes. "I've said what I mean, Dean. These girls are going to get you boys killed. Best ditch them now, before it's too late."

Dean exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face before looking at John. "You always gotta be an ass about it, don't you?"

John scoffed, "You think I'm wrong?"

"I think you're a miserable son of a bitch who pushes everyone away because you're too damn scared to admit you give a crap," Dean snapped.

John's expression darkened, but before he could snap back, Bobby's voice cut through the tension.

"John." It was just his name, but the way Bobby said it- calm, even, but laced with finality- had the entire room turning to him.

"These kids? They've been through hell. More than you wanna admit, 'cause if you did, you'd have to face the fact that maybe- just maybe- you didn't do right by 'em." His voice hardened. "I adopted two young boys. I watched them grow into heroes. And now- I watched them fall in love with two beautiful girls, who would do anything for each other."

My face warmed, and I glanced up at Sam, who had found the floor suddenly very interesting, then exchanged a glance with Eve.

John's eyes narrowed at Bobby's words, but he wasn't finished.

"I ain't sayin' you didn't love them, John. Hell, I think you did. But you've always pushed 'em too damn hard. You made 'em think that bein' tough was the only way to survive." Bobby's voice grew colder, and his eyes flicked to the door like he was ready to throw John out at any second. "And now? Now, they've got something else to fight for. Somethin' real." he looked at Sam and then at me, a small nod passing between him and Eve. "So you can keep thinkin' you know what's best, or you can get outta my damn house and let us handle things our way."

John didn't flinch, but the tension in the room had hit a breaking point. For a moment, I thought he might snap back, but instead, his jaw tightened, and he slowly exhaled through his nose.

"Fine," he muttered, his voice low and venomous. "Do what you want."

With that, John turned on his heel, heading for the door. The sound of it slamming behind him felt like the final nail in the coffin.

Bobby let out a long breath, then looked at the rest of us, his face softening just a bit. "You two, get in that bed. I don't want to see either of you for a couple hours."

Dean snorted, trying to relieve a little bit of the tension. "Damn, Bobby, at least buy 'em dinner first."

Bobby shot him a glare. "Don't start with me, boy. I mean sleep. No more arguing, no more sneakin' off, no more staring at the ceiling all night. You're all useless if you're running on fumes."

"Where does that leave Dean and me, if they get to sleep together?" Eve asked with a small smirk.

Dean slipped an arm around her waist. "Well, sweetheart, if you wanted to shack up, you just had to say so."

Eve rolled her eyes, shoving him lightly. "Not what I meant, jackass."

Bobby pinched the bridge of his nose. "Sleep wherever you damn well please, as long as these two," he pointed at me and Sam. "Get some rest."

I sighed heavily, swaying slightly before Sam's arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me back into his chest.

I let myself lean into his hold, the exhaustion pressing down on me like a weight now that the adrenaline had worn off.

Bobby shook his head, muttering something under his breath before looking back at Dean and Eve. "You two- no noise, no trouble, and if you wake them up... I will make you regret it."

Dean grinned. "C'mon, Bobby, when have I ever-"

"Boy, don't finish that sentence unless you wanna get smacked."

Eve chuckled, grabbing Dean by the arm and dragging him toward the hallway. "C'mon, before Bobby actually follows through."

Dean shot Sam and me a final look, something teasing but also a little softer, before disappearing after her.

Bobby disappeared right after them, shooting a worried glance our way before shutting the door.

For a long moment, neither of us spoke. The weight of everything that had happened still hung in the air- John's words, Bobby kicking him out, the way both Sam and Dean had defended me and Eve without hesitation.

"You didn't have to do that, y'know- defend me and Eve." I swallowed hard, turning my head just enough to glance at him. "And you don't have to sleep in the same bed as me- you made it pretty clear that you didn't want a relationship."

Sam let out a slow breath, his grip on my waist tightening just slightly before he pulled away enough to turn me around to face him. His eyes were dark, conflicted- like he was at war with himself.

"I never said I didn't want you," he murmured, his voice low, rough. "I said I couldn't."

I huffed a laugh, shaking my head as I stepped back, suddenly cold. "Same difference."

"It's not-" Sam insisted, reaching for my hand but stopping just short. "Bri, everything I've ever cared about... has either died, left, or-" he exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. "I was trying to protect you."

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "Look, I'm too damn tired to fight over this right now."

He hesitated, then gave a small nod. "Then lets lay down," he said softly. "I'll be right here."

I hesitated for a moment, eyes flicking between Sam's and the bed. Half of me screamed to push him away, to keep my distance- the other half screamed to shut the hell up and accept it.

I let out a defeated sigh, moving back over to the bed. Sam followed, pulling the covers back and guiding me to lie down beside him. He draped an arm across my chest and pulled me firmly back into him, and I tensed for a moment.

Something about the way he held me, the warmth of his chest against my back, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, made everything feel right.

I closed my eyes, my breath slow and uneven as I fought to push aside the thoughts that tried to creep in. The nightmares. The doubts. The distance we'd put between us. It all faded when Sam's voice whispered into the silence.

"I'm right here, Bri," he said softly, his breath warm against the top of my head. "I'm not going anywhere."