ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ: "Happy birthday 'mano."
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THE RUMBLE OF TWO ENGINES echoed through the small parking lot of Sunnyside Diner, the hunters' latest stop off Route 90.

Venus removed her key from Freddy's ignition, listening to Dean and Sam bicker about extra onions through the Impala's open window.

Seconds later, Sam emerged from the car, shoving the bills Dean had given him into his jacket pocket.

"Hey, see if they got any pie!" Dean called out.

Sam rolled his eyes, the action making Venus laugh as she pulled off her helmet. He circled the car and approached her. "BLT and curly fries?"

Venus handed him a twenty-dollar bill with a grin. "Yes sir."

Sam took her money with a nod.

"And I'll take some pie too, 'mano!" she shouted after him, chuckling at the look he sent her.

Dean poked his head out his window, flashing her a grin. "Hey, gorgeous."

"Hi," she smiled back.

"We're pretty close to Sioux Falls. How 'bout a quick detour to check in on Artie?"

"Sure," she shrugged, pulling out her phone to shoot her uncle a text. "Bobby was telling me the other day that tío might have a girlfriend."

Dean's lips parted in a dramatic gasp. "How scandalous!"

"Mm-mhm," she nodded, "Apparently Bobby saw him coming out of some chick's car a month ago. Kissed her goodbye and everything."

"Even on crutches, Artie's got still game. Hot damn," Dean laughed, reaching down to change the radio station.

"I wonder if it's serious—" Venus suddenly stopped, a shiver running down her spine.

Dean noticed the sudden change in her expression. "You okay?"

Venus locked eyes with him. "You feel that?"

Before Dean could answer, his radio began cutting out, static filling the air in short bursts. The dashboard of Venus's bike flickered erratically, losing and regaining power.

Dean struck the glass twice with his fingers, listening as the static stopped. But dead silence took its place.

Venus's gaze darted to the diner's windows, her heart racing. She couldn't see anyone.

She couldn't see Sam.

"Dean," she drew his attention to it.

Both hunters nearly stumbled as they leapt from their vehicles, sprinting towards the diner's entrance with urgency. Venus could damn near feel her heart threatening to beat out of her chest as she took in the scene.

Inside the diner, an old man who was seated in a booth lay hunched over his table, his own blood forming a pool on the surface. It was eerily quiet apart from the faint fizzling of the fryers. Sam was nowhere to be seen.

Without a hitch, Venus and Dean drew their guns, gripping the handles tightly. 

"Sam?" Dean called out. He and Venus took wary steps further into the space, eyes anxiously darting all around their surroundings, taking in everything. They stopped by the old man, each glancing at him to confirm that he was dead. A few more steps brought them around the counter where the waitress and cook lay on the floor, their throats slashed, blood pooling around them.

Dean swallowed harshly and Venus felt her breath catch in her throat.

They moved to the back door, peering into the darkness outside. It was empty, only trees and wet grass visible. "Sam!" Venus shouted. 

No response came.

But Venus smelled something. Her eyes darted to where Dean was gripping the wooden door, noticing a pile of sulfur around his fingers. Dean's breath quickened as he lifted his hand, eyeing the yellow powder.

Venus took off to the front entrance, Dean hot on her heels. She looked around wildly, walking over to their vehicles and calling out for Sam again. Her shouts of his name echoed back at her almost mockingly.

After the fourth time, she turned to look at Dean, each silently realizing the same thing.

A demon took Sam.

-ˋˏ | ˎˊ-

"This is it—all demonic signs and omens over the past month."

Venus looked at the map on the dingy kitchen table and then up at Arturo and Bobby. "You're kidding, right? There's nothing here."

Arturo and Bobby shared a look. "Exactly," they chorused.

The hunters had arrived at Bobby's place the previous night, hoping to pool their resources and come up with something tangible to help find Sam. It wasn't going very well.

Dean let out a frustrated sigh, dragging a hand over his face. "Come on, there's gotta be something. What about the normal, low-level stuff? Exorcisms, that kind of thing?"

"That's what I'm telling you," Bobby shook his head, "It's completely quiet."

"How are we supposed to look for Sam, close our eyes and point?"

Venus took a shaky breath, ignoring the worried glance her uncle sent her. Her phone began buzzing in her back pocket. She pulled it out to see Ash's name. "Tell me you got somethin' buddy," she answered.

"Okay, listen. It's a bit negatory on Sam."

Venus' eyes squeezed shut in frustration. "Not what I wanna hear, Ash. We're talking about a three-thousand-mile haystack here."

"V, I did find something," Ash's voice dropped to a near whisper.

"Okay...what?"

"I can't talk over this line—"

Venus'  jaw clenched in annoyance. "Ash, dude, you better not be wasting my time or I swear to God..."

"Make time, okay?" Ash insisted, "Cause this—What's up? What's going on?—Not only does this almost definitely help you find Sam, this is..." he trailed off, sighing, "It's huge. So get here, now."

Venus mulled over his words, taking in the slight edge in his tone. He sounded genuinely distressed. "See you in a bit, Ash."

The call ended with a click. Venus turned to the confused men. "Ash says he's got something...big. So, I guess we're heading to the roadhouse."

By midday, they reached Nebraska— the men all crammed into the Impala while Venus rode in on her bike.

But what greeted them was a grim sight; The Roadhouse, burnt to a crisp, its foundations just barely standing. The smoke hadn't even cleared yet.

"What the hell?" Venus muttered, setting her helmet down on her bike seat.

Dean and the others filed out of the Impala, faces etched with concern. They cautiously waded through the debris and dead bodies.

"My God," Bobby muttered, his palm pressed against his mouth in shock.

"You see Ellen?" Dean asked them, stepping over a burnt cowboy hat.

Venus' eyes scanned the wreckage, spotting a few burnt corpses under the rubble. All men from what she could tell. "No," she answered, a flicker of relief coursing through her. But then she came to a stop beside Dean, spotting a familiar watch among the rubble. She slowly bent down and touched the piece of jewelry, using a finger to brush soot and dust from it. It was Ash's. She remembered the day he got it, or won it, rather—a game of poker with some reckless hunters. It was still around his wrist, just barely clinging to the flesh beneath it. "Oh God," she gasped, stumbling away in horror.

Arturo, still getting used to moving without crutches, rushed over. His eyes widened in recognition of the watch. "It's Ash," he told the others.

"Damnit!" Dean cursed under his breath. He glanced back at where Venus stood some feet away, a hand clamped over her mouth. She looked like she was seconds away from throwing up. He walked over to the brunette and pulled her into his embrace, just as a sob burst free from her throat. She shook against him, mourning her lost friend. Dean gently ushered her away from the rubble, not wanting her to stare at it any longer.

Arturo tore his eyes away from Ash's body, struggling to contain the tears welling in his eyes. "What the hell did Ash know?" he turned back toward the car, with Bobby trailing behind.

Dean looked at the older men. "We got no way of knowing where Ellen is, or if she's even alive," he said.

Suddenly Venus' cries morphed into pained shouts. She pried herself from Dean's arms, leaning over to grip the hood of the Impala. "No!" she grunted, pressing the heel of her palm into her head.

"Venus?" Dean and the others rushed to her side. She panted heavily, looking at each of them. The pain was slowly subsiding.

"What was that?" Arturo asked.

Venus shook her head, trying to clear her vision. "I don't know. A really bad headache?"

"You get headaches like that a lot?" Bobby questioned, bewildered.

"No," she answered truthfully, using a hand to wipe the tears streaming down her face. "Must be the stress," she glanced back at the remains of the roadhouse.

Dean helped her stand to her feet, worriedly examining her face with gentle hands. "I think I saw something," Venus suddenly confessed.

"What do you mean?" Arturo pressed, looking more afraid than the others.

"Like a vision? Like what Sam gets?" Bobby added.

Venus swallowed hard, shaking her head. "That's not possible. I don't get those."

"First time for everything—"

Dean was cut off by Venus' scream, a new intensity of pain in her voice. She almost collapsed, but Dean caught her with a firm grip on her side, his eyes wide as she clutched her head. "Venus!"

Arturo and Bobby started toward her, only to freeze in their tracks when her screams abruptly stopped. Venus' body went oddly still in Dean's' arm, her eyes snapping open to reveal a strange sight to the hunters.

"Jesus Christ," Bobby murmured in shock. He'd never seen anything like it before.

Arturo surged forward, his hands trembling as he took Venus from a stunned Dean. This shouldn't be possible. "Venus, can you hear me?" he shouted, voice laced with panic.

Venus blinked, once, then twice, and seemingly regained her bearings. She clutched her chest as she staggered to her feet, taking in the stunned faces around her. "It's not working," she panted, "It's like someone's trying to shoot an arrow into my brain but it keeps ricocheting."

For a few seconds, none of the men spoke. Venus' brows furrowed in confusion. "What's up? You guys look like you just saw a ghost."

"Your eyes," Dean choked out, "When you were having the vision they did this...thing."

Venus tilted her head, puzzled. "What thing?" She noticed Arturo avoiding her gaze.

Dean struggled to find the right words. "They glowed white. Bright white."

"Oh," Venus replied, fixing her jacket collar awkwardly, "Well...like you said, first time for everything."

"Damn straight," Bobby scoffed, "I've never seen eyes do that before. Human or not."

Venus huffed, a wave of embarrassment washing over her as she felt their eyes on her, scrutinizing her. They all seemed afraid. As much as it hurt, she couldn't blame them.

Arturo cleared his throat, breaking the uneasy silence. "Did you see anything this time?"

Venus used a hand to fix her hair, pushing a strand behind her ear and gathering her thoughts. "Flashes, but nothing made sense. Something...brown? I don't know."

Suddenly, Dean doubled over in pain, grabbing his head like Venus had. He groaned, feeling as if his brain were being squeezed in a vice. It lasted for only a few seconds but felt like an eternity. Venus and Arturo quickly moved to his side, their hands gripping his shoulders to keep him upright. Dean's breaths came in ragged gasps as he fought to regain his composure. "I saw Sam."

"So what, the vision didn't work for you so it passed itself onto Dean?" Arturo's brows knitted in confusion, "What the hell..."

"Whew! That was about as fun as getting kicked in the jewels," Dean mused, trying to shake off the pain.

Venus nodded. "Sounds about right. What else did you see?"

"Uh," Dean exhaled sharply, using a hand to massage his temple, "There was a bell...a big bell with some kind of engraving on it."

"That must've been what it was trying to show me," Venus muttered in realization.

Bobby walked over. "Engraving?"

"Yeah," Dean nodded slowly, not wanting to agitate the ache in his head.

"Was it a tree? An oak tree?"

Dean looked over at the older man. "Yeah, exactly."

"I know where Sam is."

Cold Oak, South Dakota was a torturous seven-hour drive.

None of the hunters had a clue what they were walking into, which did nothing to ease their collective worries.

They loaded their shotguns in silence, each packing their pockets with extra shells, and exchanging curt nods.

"Let's go," Dean murmured, slamming his trunk shut.

Venus switched on her flashlight, its light sweeping over the abandoned cabins and bushes they passed. Nothing indicated a human or supernatural presence. If it wasn't for the vision that was shoved into Dean's head, she would've thought that they were in the wrong place.

"Sam!" Dean bellowed.

They walked through the deserted town, Dean calling Sam's name every few seconds.

Finally, as they rounded a corner, a response came. "Dean?" Sam's voice was unmistakable. The hunters lowered their flashlights, all releasing relived breaths at the sight of the younger hunter. Sam took sluggish steps towards them, clutching his right arm, a bruise forming on his jaw that Venus could see even from a distance.

She nearly smiled, but then her eyes caught movement behind him. "Sam look out!" she shouted.

But it was too late. Sam barely had time to react before Jake Talley plunged a knife into his back, right below his heart.

"No!" Dean roared. They all took off into a sprint instantly.

Venus, far ahead of the others, dropped her gun as she reached Sam, not noticing Bobby and Arturo chasing the man responsible. She slid to her knees in the mud, catching Sam before he hit the ground. One hand clutched his side, the other cradled his head, trying to keep him conscious. "Sam? Stay with me, Sam, come on," she pleaded, her voice breaking in desperation.

Dean fell to the ground beside her next, grabbing the lapels of Sam's jacket. Sam's breathing slowed with each passing second, blood dripping from his lips. "No, no, no Sam!"

Venus didn't even realize she was crying until her vision blurred completely. She pressed a trembling hand to the wound in Sam's back, feeling the blood and torn flesh litter her fingertips. The sensation would haunt her for weeks. Judging from the way Sam's neck bobbed, this guy managed to cut clean through his spine. She felt the weight of dread settling in her stomach as she looked over at Dean, not even having to speak for him to know the true gravity of Sam's condition.

"Hey, look at me," Dean shifted Sam's body to look into his eyes. Sam was slipping away. "It's not even that bad. It's not even that bad, alright?"

Venus sank onto the grass, her bloody hands open and shaking in front of her. Every breath was a struggle, her chest tight as if the air was suffocating her. Dean's anguished cries of her name were distant echoes, drowned by the pounding of her heart roaring in her ears. 

She flexed her fingers once, feeling the stickiness in the crevices, and it sent a violent shudder through her body. A wave of terror washed over her as the realization hit like a punch to the gut—this was Sam's blood. Sam's life, slipping through her fingers, staining her hands.

When she finally looked up, looked over at Sam, she saw those forest-green eyes she'd known for more than two decades slide shut. And they don't open again.

-ˋˏ | ˎˊ-

Venus felt an unbearable heaviness settle over her.

They were holed up in some cabin at the edge of South Dakota. Sam's cold, lifeless body lay on a dusty mattress in the next room. The sight was surreal, a snapshot from a horrific dream that she'd never wake up from. 

Reality seemed to blur into a haze of grief and exhaustion. For two days she hadn't slept nor moved beyond the necessities. Her tears had long since dried up, leaving her eyes hollow and aching. She was seated on a rickety old chair, her legs curled into her lap. Absentmindedly, she traced the faint red stain of Sam's blood on her fingers, a grim reminder of what she couldn't wash away. The mud from the ground still caked her boots. Her diet had deteriorated into a combination of beer, whiskey, and guilt.

Just like Dean's.

He stood by the door of the room housing his brother's body, eyes red-rimmed and puffy from tears and a steady consumption of alcohol. Outside that stuffy cabin, the world spun on, indifferent to what had happened. But Dean was still here, stuck in this limbo of rage and misery, unable to accept that his brother was dead, that he had failed his one job.

"Dean? Venus?"

Both hunters barely looked up at the sounds of their names. Bobby and Arturo entered the dark cabin holding buckets of chicken and other food items. "Brought you this back," Bobby announced, walking over to the table where Venus sat.

"No thanks, I'm fine," Dean gruffed.

Arturo set a small bag down gently before his niece, pulling out a pack of M&Ms and a box of curly fries. Venus didn't look up, eyes fixed on the worn floorboards beneath her. "Mija," he said softly, "When's the last time you ate something?"

Venus flinched when Arturo placed a hand on her shoulder, her eyes slamming shut. Arturo took a step back, his chest tightening with worry for her.

"I said I'm fine," came Dean's sharp response to Bobby's identical plea for him to eat. He walked back to the table, grabbed a nearly empty bottle of whiskey, and turned it to his head.

Bobby and Arturo sent each other worried glances.

"I hate to bring this up, I really do," Bobby began, "But don't you think maybe it's time...we bury Sam?"

Venus' eyes shot to Bobby's. "No," she croaked, her first word in days.

Dean sank into the empty chair beside her. Without a word, he grabbed the bottle of whiskey she had been nursing and took a long swig. Venus took it back before he even fully set it down and swallowed a mouthful, not even grimacing at the burn anymore. They hadn't spoken or exchanged a glance since they arrived. It was practically unintentional, each ensnared in their own bubbles of grief. It was as if an unspoken pact had formed between them—both too drained to offer solace, content in their mutual silence.

Arturo took a bottle of water from the bag he carried and put it next to the bottle of whiskey. Venus used a shaky hand to push it away before bringing the whiskey back to her lips. Arturo frowned.

"We could...maybe..." Bobby trailed off with a sigh.

"What? Torch his corpse?" Dean snapped.

"Not yet," Venus said, her voice barely audible. She wasn't naive, she knew Sam was dead. There was no denying it when his body lay only a few feet away. Yet she clung to a sliver of hope, convinced that she or Dean would find a way to bring him back. She just hadn't worked out the details yet.

But she would. Because that's what she did—figured things out, protected the people she loved, no matter the cost.

Arturo moved closer to the table, his eyes shifting between Venus and Dean. His furrowed brows betrayed his true concern for the pair. They needed help, he just didn't know how to help them. "I want you two to come with us," he pleaded.

"I'm not going anywhere," Dean replied without missing a beat.

"Dean, please—"

"Won't you cut me some slack?"

Arturo sighed. "We just don't think you two should be here alone, that's all."

Venus felt her uncle's stare piercing the side of her head. But she didn't respond. She wasn't moving until she came up with a plan to bring Sam back. It didn't matter if it took another day, another week, or even longer. She was prepared to endure anything—starvation, exhaustion, or worse—whatever it takes. If she died before finding a solution then maybe it was the punishment she deserved for letting another one of her best friends die.

"I gotta admit, we could use your help," Bobby said.

Dean and Venus scoffed in unison.

"Something big is going down—end-of-the-world big," Bobby urged.

"Well, then, let it end!" Dean roared.

The cabin fell into a heavy silence, Dean's words hanging in the air. "You don't mean that," Bobby muttered.

Dean leaped to his feet so abruptly that his chair toppled over. He stepped so close to Bobby that he and Arturo took small steps back. "You don't think so? Huh?" Dean's voice was a dangerous snarl.

Bobby and Arturo stared, unable to reconcile the man before them with the Dean they knew. This was a hollow shell of a man, stripped of the only piece of his family he had left. 

The man they both once were.

"You don't think I've given enough? You don't think I've paid enough?"

Unable to withstand Dean's stare, Bobby looked down in shame.

"I'm done with it—all of it," Dean declared, a look in his eyes that left no room for doubt. "And if you know what's good for you, you'll turn around and get the hell out of here," he warned.

But Bobby and Arturo made no move to leave, rooted to the floor with that look of pity in their eyes that haunted Dean for the past two days. In a burst of rage, Dean shoved Bobby. "Go!"

Arturo caught the older man before he tripped and fell, both looking at Dean with sad eyes.

Embarrassment fills Dean just as fast as the anger did. He glanced down for a moment, his voice barely a whisper. "I'm sorry."

"We know, buddy," Arturo said softly, his nod acknowledging Dean's pain. He recognized that feeling all too well—that unending abyss of grief and sorrow, the persistent questioning of 'What did I do wrong?' or 'What could I have done differently?'

Now two people he deeply cared about were experiencing that very torment.

"Please just go," Dean moved back to the table, picking up his chair where it fell.

Bobby turned for the door with a troubled sigh. "You know where we'll be."

Arturo started to follow him but paused, glancing over at Venus. She was still in the same position, her gaze fixed on the ground, her expression empty. "Take care of yourself, chiquita," he said, "Please."

The door to the cabin closed soon after, the last sound filling the room for hours.

That is until Dean dragged his chair over to Sam's bedside. Venus was too engrossed in her own thoughts to hear what he was saying. One thought, specifically, nagged her, clawed at the back of her mind. It was like a voice telling her what she needed to do, the only choice left. She'd tried to silence it for days, but it grew louder as her helplessness inflated.

"What am I supposed to do?" Dean's sudden shout into the air drew her attention.

Venus glanced up to see a frustrated Dean storm out of the room. He grabbed his jacket and keys, slamming the door behind him.

In that moment, the fog seemed to lift for Venus.

She slowly stood to her feet, feeling her legs ache at the lack of use, and trudged over to Sam. Venus picked up the chair Dean had abandoned and positioned it next to the bed. Sitting down, she gazed at Sam's still form, her lips curved into a small, bittersweet smile.

"Hey, 'mano," she called out, half-hoping Sam would open his eyes and greet her with that familiar, gentle smile. But he remained as motionless as he had for the past two days. "Remember one of those times when John, tío, and Dean went off on a hunt and they wouldn't let me tag along? We were stuck in some crappy motel room together for like a week. Twelve-year-old Sammy...you were so damn smart," she paused, her breath shaky. "They thought they'd left us enough food, but we ran out on the fifth day. We tried stretching that last can of soup, throwing in water and whatever else we could find. You called it 'mystery stew'," she chuckled softly.

Her smile soon faded. "The next night we were so hungry. I pretended like it was nothing—I'd gotten good at that by then. But you...oh God. You cried yourself to sleep, and it broke my fucking heart," her words faltered, a sob catching in her throat, "I snuck out while you were sleeping. I went to a bar nearby, got in with a fake ID and way too much makeup. I found the dumbest-looking guy in there, pretended I was drunk, and convinced him to play me in Pool for money I didn't have. My first time hustling anyone and, somehow, I walked out with two hundred dollars. I was shaking like a leaf," she looked down at Sam, "But I bought everything I could carry from the closest burger joint. When I woke you up that night you had the biggest smile on your face. We ate till we were damn near blue in the face. I think you even fell asleep with a fry in your mouth."

She took a deep breath, her hand reaching out to gently brush his cold cheek. "I never told you how I got that food. I knew you'd be mad at me— say I 'put myself in danger' and feel guilty. But I didn't care how dangerous it was. You weren't okay and if there was something I could do to fix that, then you bet your ass I was gonna do it. Making sure you ate, making sure you smiled again—that's all that mattered. That's all that matters," Her voice grew more determined. "Which is why I have to do this. You might not understand it, and you'll probably never forgive me, but I'd rather you alive and hating me than dead."

Venus leaned closer, her voice barely above a whisper. "For twenty years, I protected you like you were my own flesh and blood. That was my first job, above everything else. I'm not quitting now."

With one last, lingering touch, she stood up, her resolve hardening. "Happy birthday 'mano."

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A/N: This might genuinely be one of the best chapters I've ever written...like my creative writing teachers would be very proud rn!

Anyways Sammy's dead :(
Next chapter's gonna be a DOOZY!

Lovely GIF banner up above made by the incredibly talented prodigybitxhhh (She's posting again AGHHHH go check her out yall!)

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