Chapter Text
Sam and Dean walked hurriedly towards the address given to them by Crowley. They were running out of time. They knew Crowley was toying with them, but they were never the ones to accept defeat, that too at the hands of a scumbag like Crowley. Sam knocked on the door, unbeknownst to him whose life was about to be in danger. The door flung open and his heart dropped.
"Sam?"
Sam is hit with a loud flashback of memories. In New York, almost an eternity ago. The estate sale. The girl with the blue eyes, walking down the stairs. Sarah Blake. The girl who tried to get him to let his walls down. Sam had lived a hundred different lives since then, but the thought of Sarah did occur to him on nights when he thought about living a normal life. He had loved and lost many people in his life, but what couldn't have been with Sarah was still a prickly thorn.
"What's going on?" Sarah knew something had to be very wrong for Sam Winchester to be standing at her door. Sam left with the promise of returning, and she admittedly waited for him for a while. There was no reason to believe he was even alive. She forced herself to move on. Enough time had passed, and she had managed to lock her adventures with Sam in the corner of her heart, so deeply buried that they had almost started to feel like a dream.
"Sarah, are you alright?"
"Yes, but what's wrong? Why are you here?"
"I...You...Sarah, you might be in danger," Sam was already worn down because of the two trials, but this just punched him in the gut. Sarah's eyes darkened at Sam's words.
"What do you mean?"
"Sarah, I'll explain everything," Sam doubled over with a cough, gripping the doorframe hard enough that his knuckles whitened. "Right now," he paused again, pulling out his handkerchief to cover his mouth.
"Sam, get in here. Sit down, you alright?"
"I am fine," Sam wiped his mouth and glanced at blood on the white cloth. Sarah sat him down on the couch on the other end of the room.
"We need to secure the room. I do not have the time to explain everything right now. But there is a demon out there who is after you. His name is Crowley."
"Hold on there, this is too much. Demons are real?"
"Uh, yeah. Sarah, please, focus. He has threatened to come after you at midnight. We don't have a lot of time."
"So a demon named Crowley is going to kill me in 16 minutes." Sarah was trying her best to conceal the bone-chilling terror she felt as she looked at the time.
"No, he's not." There was a knock on the door, and Sam was on his feet, walking slowly towards it. He opened the door ajar and opened it to welcome Dean into the room who glanced between them, eyebrows lifting slightly, "Wow. Sammy’s mysterious art-girl." He flashed Sarah a reassuring smile while pulling weapons and spray paint from his bag. When his icebreaker didn't warrant a reaction, he asks, "Long time. What are you doing in Indi?"
"I...uh... was scouting an estate sale for my dad." Dean nodded along while shaking a can of spray.
"Look, we're gonna put devil's traps everywhere- windows, doors. We've got holy water and exorcism ready to play on loop," Sam held up a record player and continued, "Anything that comes through that door..." Sam stopped short in his sentence as Dean handed him a rifle. He cocked the rifle and added, "...is meat." Sam read the hesitation on Sarah's face and added, "Look I know this is insane but insane is kind of what we do. We'll keep you safe."
"Okay," Sarah spoke in a rather composed tone that took Dean by surprise. He asked her while loading his weapon, "Okay? That's it?"
Sarah glanced at Sam and said, "You've done it before."
"You sit here, we've got this," Dean tried reassuring her but she was emitting a restless energy. He smiled at her weakly but it was of no use. Sarah sat by the bed as the boys spray painted the room in sigils. She nervously fidgeted with her ring, contemplating calling Ian and Beth.
"That's new," Sam said.
"Yeah. I, his name is Ian. He works search and rescue. Guess I've a type." Sarah adds with a meek smile, "Our daughter, Beth, turns one in a month."
Sam blinked. The words landed slowly. A daughter. Another life he hadn't been there for.
"That's um great. I mean I'm, I'm really happy for you."
"Thanks." The room falls into a silence, which Sarah is the one to break, "Uh, what about you?"
"Me," Sam scoffed at her question. Sarah noticed the red around his eyes as soon as she saw him and finally got the moment to ask him about himself.
"Pretty much the same, I guess."
"No you're not. You're not the same. Look it's been years and I can't even imagine the things you've been through but I don't know; you just seem... more focused... confident. Like, like you know what you want." Sam was unsure of how to take her words, he slapped his lap and added, "You grew up, Sam." He smiled at her efforts at reassuring him when he should be the one doing that.
"I do miss the old haircut, though," she said with a conviction that Sam almost forgot the situation they were in. It felt easy for a second there. Almost like all those years, when they were still hopeful that their future might hold something for them. Sarah felt happy for having earned a genuine smile from him. A thought to reach out and play with his hair crosses her mind but before she can decide anything, the landline rings in the background. She was on her feet in an instant, pulling out the gun Sam gave her. Dean picked up the phone, "Crowley."
A raspy voice echoes through the phone, counting down from 5, switching languages. The second his counts down to uno, Sarah hit the floor hard, fingers clawing at her throat. Sam came running towards her. Her face had started turning red, and she held on to her neck, fighting for air. Everything Crowley was saying sounded like a buzz to Sam who was feeling helpless. Crowley's smugness gave him the hint, "It's a spell. Find the hex bag!"
Dean and Sam frantically search through the room, Crowley's mocking voice filling their ears like poison. Dean in a fit of anger, smashes the telephone on the wall. And there it was. A small black sack, tied with a yellow string. Dean picked it up in a swift motion and lit up his light and burnt it.
Sarah took a deep breath, her hands still around her neck. Sam pulls her up and then wraps his arms around her. She holds on to as she tries to regain her senses.
"Water," she manages to say. Dean brought out a water bottle from his bag, hands it to Sam who holds Sarah and as she swallows between labored breaths.
Sam sat up against the bed frame, running his fingers through his hair, Sarah was on her back again, tired as her life was almost drained out of her body. Dean looked at scene in front of him in utter disbelief. The three of them were still reeling back from the averted disaster; they were awoken by a knock on the door. The three of them looked at eachother with fear in their eyes. Sarah sat up and crept towards Sam, who held her forearm, positioning himself in front of her. None of them make a noise. Another knock followed by the chilling sound of a familiar voice from behind the door, "Hello, boys."