[Chapter] Interlude 1.0 - Chapter 2: Of Past and Present (END)

[shuufleur93]

Chapter : 2
Title : Of Past and Present
Word Count : 10687
Summary: As Peter and Sam's relationship blossoms, new challenges arrive.
Notes : Chapter written for the WIP Big Bang 2018.

Go back to the masterpost.

 

And life went on...

*

“Mr. Smith?”

Sam looked up at the mechanic who just came out of the workshop.

“Yes, that’s me,” he said, standing up from the plastic chair in the waiting room.

The mechanic smiled a little and handed Sam his keys.

“Here you go. The car’s out front. Before leaving, don’t forget to go to the reception to pay.”

“Thanks.”

“It was a pleasure to fix this beauty.”

Sam nodded, watching the mechanic disappear back in the workshop. He passed by the reception to pay his fee and got out. When he arrived next to the car, Sam took a minute to look at it. He thought Dean would have hated it, Sam going to the garage to fix the car. And as much as Sam wanted to respect that, he couldn’t do much with a broken arm.

Two weeks had passed since Peter’s revelation. Two weeks since their first kiss. Two weeks where Sam had found out how much Peter had an overprotective streak and mother-henning habits. It wasn’t bad, just… strange. He wasn’t used to it. The only other person who had been like that with Sam was Dean. People didn’t usually care for Sam. They were always more attracted to Dean, whether it was friendship or romance.

Having Peter (and Spider-Man) so focused on him made him feel a bit… inadequate somehow. Like he didn’t deserve it. He knew this line of thinking was bullshit. He couldn’t help but think that Peter must have much better things to do than take care of him, or rather, care for him. It was notorious that his past relationships never ended well, and he was scared this one would go up in flames too.

Sam opened the door of the car and sat down behind the steering wheel. He started the car and backed up to leave the garage parking spot.

The doctor said that since his arm had been broken twice, it would probably take longer to heal. Broken bones generally healed in weeks, but it could take months. Sam really hoped a few weeks would be enough. He was already fed up of the cast. Because of this setback, he had to cancel most of his appointments or redirect people to more capable services. It also meant he was getting short of cash.

Sam arrived at his motel a few minutes later. He parked the car and went to his room. With a sigh, he let himself fall on the bed. As he watched the ceiling, his thoughts circled back to Peter and their relationship.

However difficult his situation was, Sam didn’t remember a time he had been this happy. No even Stanford had been that liberating. He wondered if he was finally moving on.

Peter was a big part of the reason Sam stayed in New York. After the fight with the Green Goblin’s men, he had been ready to leave. What was the point of staying in a city where the only friend he made avoided him like the plague. He had been ready to leave, but then, Peter Parker went to see him, and everything changed.

It might be unhealthy, getting attached so quickly to Peter, and by extension, New York. He fed on this crazy city with its villains and superheroes. He felt he was now part of something that was tangible, certain. In a way, he could just grab it and never let go.

Maybe he was going too fast, getting ahead of himself with Peter, but it was better than breaking down because of Dean’s absence. Peter was everything that Sam wasn’t: he was strong, he didn’t let despair drive him, and above all, Peter found light where there was only darkness for Sam.

Sam’s phone buzzed. He smiled when he saw that it was Peter calling.

“Hey,” Sam answered once he was done with the one hand fumbling.

“Hey yourself,” Peter’s voice said, slightly panting, “how’s the car?”

“Better now.”

“Great, super. Can I still come tonight?” Peter asked, before swearing profusely.

Sam furrowed his eyebrows worriedly.

“You OK?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I’m just…”

Peter grunted and then, “Hey! You shouldn’t do that. I’m trying to help you!”

Sam rolled his eyes.

“Are you on patrol?”

“Hm, if I say yes, will I be forbidden to see you tonight?”

Sam sighed exaggeratedly, but he couldn’t stop the smile that crept on his lips.

“Dammit, Peter. Focus on this first. When this is over, call me again. I might revise my judgement otherwise.”

“Wait, Sam! I need to know—”

Sam hang up, knowing Peter would either call him right back or wait after his fight like a sensible person. When his phone still hadn’t rung, Sam was grateful Peter chose to wait. He didn’t want him to get hurt because he was distracted.

Sitting down, he grabbed the remote he left on the mattress and switched on the tv. He didn’t usually watch tv, but right now he was too tired to even think of getting his computer. If he wanted to follow Peter’s fight, the TV was his best bet.

Sam went through the channels until he found one that was less annoying than the others. As usual, they spent hours of repeating the same things (“Spider-Man is currently on scene. We don’t know about the Avengers whereabouts.”) and asking irrelevant questions (“Do you think that the superheroes are at the origins of the villains?”).

Spider-Man was fighting a giant lizard, and he seemed to be winning. It said something about Sam’s life that he wasn’t even fazed anymore by giant insects. When he thought he had seen everything, the world would just throw him something else. As the news reporters continued to talk, Sam lied down. His eyelids got heavier and heavier until he was out like a light before they concluded that Spider-Man won the fight.

*

There were fingers on his head, massaging his scalp, carding through his hair. Sam slowly opened his eyes and looked around until he found Peter sitting down next to him while watching TV. The young man must have felt him move because he suddenly looked down.

Peter smiled and leaned down to kiss Sam’s forehead.

“Hey.”

Sam smiled and cleared his throat.

“You won, I suppose.”

Peter wiggled his eyebrows indecently.

“Who do you take me for?”

Sam groaned and turned his head away, pretending to be ashamed. Peter laughed and decided to completely lie down on Sam, an ear against his chest. The ex-hunter huffed and passed his arm around Peter’s body to secure him.

“It wasn’t difficult. Didn’t even need the Avengers,” Peter said, his voice half muffled by Sam’s clothes.

“Glad you’re OK.”

“I saw the car. Looking good.”

Peter wiggled a bit. He crossed his arms on Sam’s chest and rest his chin on his arms to look at his boyfriend.

“Yeah. She’s better. They did a good job.”

Sam smiled as he looked at Peter. The young man had a pensive expression on his face.

“What is it?” Sam asked, brushing Peter’s cheek with his finger. Peter worried his lips a little, eyes watching the wall behind Sam. The ex-hunter frowned.

“I just…” Peter stopped. He sighed, and sat up next to Sam. The hunter sat as well, wondering what the young man had on his mind.

“I’m just… why are you staying in this motel? You could have a place to yourself.”

Peter was looking at him earnestly, trying not to be insulting. Sam grinned a little sadly.

“I don’t know,” Sam replied honestly. “Part of it is money. Another part is I’m used to this kind of living. I didn’t think…”

Sam shrugged.

“But don’t you want a home?” Peter asked, a little crease between his eyebrows, clearly trying to understand Sam’s reasons.

“Maybe,” he replied, a little dismissive. He didn’t really want to talk about it, so Sam kissed him. Peter smiled against his lips and responded to the tender kiss.

What Sam didn’t tell him was that he never really had a physical home, that having a home didn’t hinge on a physical building but on the people he loved. Dean had been his home for the longest time. He supposed that now Spider-Man and Peter slowly became his new home.

Peter pulled away, panting slightly from the kiss.

“I just want you to be happy,” Peter added.

“I am.”

His boyfriend beamed and kissed him again languorously. The kiss got heated. Sam grabbed Peter and pulled him against him. The young man straddled him and let out a small moan when their bodies touched. Sam loved the sound and tried to get it again by slipping a hand on Peter’s bulge. The young man bucked, his legs tightening around Sam’s waist.

“Sam,” Peter whispered, leaving butterfly kisses on his neck. The ex-hunter felt Peter’s hands sneaking their way under his shirt, stroking the warm skin underneath. Sam closed his eyes for a moment before bending Peter backward on the bed. Rearranging himself to avoid crushing Peter, Sam pulled away a few seconds. Seeing Peter still a little breathless sent a thrill through Sam.

“So,” Peter said quietly, tucking a strand of hair behind Sam’s ear.

“So.”

Sam licked his lips, and Peter’s eyes followed the movement intently.

“You OK with this?” Sam asked when the silence went on too long.

“This?”

Peter rubbed himself against Sam, sending a surge of desire. He groaned and kissed Peter on the lips.

“Yeah,” Sam replied breathlessly.

“Totally.”

Peter smiled.

“Do you know how long I wanted to put my hands on you?”

When Sam shook his head, Peter used his strength to flip their position. Sam let out a surprised gasp, grabbing Peter.

“A long time?” Sam suggested as he tried to calm his heart down, his hands now trailing up and down Peter’s sides. The young man flashed him a wide smile, showing all his teeth.

“Ok, then.”

“Ok, then,” Peter repeated, leaning toward Sam and kissing him again.

*

Peter switched off the bathroom light and came back to bed. He lied down next to Sam who brought an arm around his waist to pull him closer. Once the young man was settled, he let out a content sigh.

“So,” Peter started after a few minutes of silence, tracing an invisible drawing on Sam’s sweaty chest. His fingers edged on his anti-possession tattoo and followed the lines from his fingertips.

“What does it mean? I meant to ask you before, but you know, I was kinda distracted.”

Peter smiled a bit deviously, which seemed weird to Sam, even after they just had sex for the first time.

“It’s an anti-possession sigil. It protects me from… from demon possession.”

Peter’s eyes crinkled in laughter. He opened his mouth to probably joke before he saw that Sam wasn’t kidding. He blinked, his eyes growing wide.

“Seriously?”

“Yep,” Sam confirmed, brushing Peter’s back with the pad of his fingers. The young man shivered and snuggled to Sam.

“Your family really went all out with this supernatural stuff,” Peter mused, putting his ear on Sam’s chest.

“You could say that…” Sam chuckled. The years had proven that there wasn’t too much protection for the Winchesters.

“Can you tell me more?” Peter asked, looking up at Sam, “About your family?”

Sam took a deep breath and released it. Peter had been curious ever since he ran searches on the Wendigo. He stumbled upon some hunter-friendly websites, with mostly accurate lore, and had asked Sam if he was a hunter. Sam, at the time, hadn’t seen the point of lying. Even if Peter hadn’t witnessed the supernatural, he had seen and fought weird things himself.

So, Sam told him a little bit about the hunting world and his family, thinking Peter would be satisfied with the bare minimum of information. He obviously wasn’t.

“You don’t have to tell me,” Peter rushed to say when Sam didn’t answer. “I know it’s hard, and…” Peter stopped, sighing. “I just want to know more about you.”

Sam kissed Peter on his forehead.

“It’s fine, Peter.”

“Yeah?”

Sam nodded.

“Yeah.”

Sam grabbed Peter’s chin to peck him on the lips. Sufficiently distracted, Peter let the subject drop.

*

Sometimes Sam couldn’t believe his luck.

*

The next few days were spent almost the same way. Sam still woke up at 6 to go for a run. Usually, after his run, he would work. Instead, he started to follow Spider-Man more seriously. When Peter was done with his day, he always joined Sam at the motel.

Sam was sitting in his chair, cleaning one of his guns when he saw a shadow pass over his window. He grinned, pretty sure he knew who it was. When the window opened from the outside and a backpack thrown across the floor sounded, Sam looked up.

“You know, you can use the front door. I know, wild, right?” he quipped, reprising the cleaning of his gun.

Still outside, Peter — Sorry, Spider-Man — froze before crawling in the room. For once, he remembered to close the window after him, Sam noticed with satisfaction.

“Front doors are boring,” Peter answered, taking his backpack and finally putting it against the wall, like Sam told him for the umpteenth time.

“If you wanted to be inconspicuous, removing the costume and walking through the front door might be a better tactic.”

“Alright, what’s got into you?” Peter grumbled, peeling up his mask. Sam loved that his hair was disheveled every time he did that.

“Just pointing out the obvious, Petey.”

“No, don’t call me that. I’m not ten,” Peter groaned. He came up to Sam and unceremoniously pushed him back from the table to straddle him. Sam’s eyebrows rose up.

“You should feel insulted,” Peter continued, resting his hands on Sam’s shoulders.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Peter murmured, leaning closer to Sam. The ex-hunter let him come closer until their lips touch. Peter sagged, sighing against Sam’s lips. Sam cupped Peter’s waist with his hand and pulled him toward him until they were chest to chest. While they deepened the kiss, Sam felt the costume with his hand, mapping Peter’s body, cataloguing every tear and bump he could feel, trying to see if Peter was hurt in anyway, and mourning the fact he only had one hand to do that for now.

The young hero broke away, cupped Sam’s face and smiled at him.

“I’m fine. I know you know that,” he said with a low voice.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t want to check.” Sam replied, tone serious. Suddenly, the atmosphere became a little heavy.

Peter caressed Sam’s cheeks with his thumbs, then passed a hand in his hair, gently brushing his locks with his fingers. Sam closed his eyes, reveling under the care. He leaned his head forward and let his forehead touch Peter’s shoulder, not caring one bit for the dirty suit.

“I just don’t want to lose you, Peter,” Sam continued after a few minutes of silence, where they just hugged each other. Peter’s fingers stopped in his hair, and Sam almost protested at the loss, but the young man talked before he could voice it.

“You won’t lose me.”

Sam raised his head to look at Peter.

“You can’t promise that. You and I know that. What you do…” he trailed off, sighing.

Peter kissed him.

“I’ll do everything in my power to always come back,” he replied, eyes full of promises. Peter was always an optimist. He never failed to see the bright side of the worst situation. Sam knew the young man was strong. His powers were extraordinary, and Sam sometimes envied him. It didn’t mean Peter was infallible or invincible, it just meant he could hold longer than the average person. At least, Peter had a team and sometimes worked with other vigilantes. Peter wasn’t alone.

Sam didn’t know what the future held for them, but there was this nagging feeling at the back of Sam’s mind telling him something bad was going to happen. After all, people the closest to him always get hurt, or worse, die. He was always waiting for the other shoe to drop. He didn’t want it to happen to Peter.

However, he won’t let his paranoid mind ruin him this night with his boyfriend. He nodded, smiled, and kissed Peter back. They kissed tenderly for a few seconds before Peter pulled away. He stood from Sam’s lap and went to the bed, removing his suit.

“So,” he started as he was throwing the suit on the ground. Sam winced half for the very expensive costume, and half for the numerous black and blue bruises that littered Peter’s body.

“Yes?” Sam prompted when Peter didn’t continue, busy looking for something in Sam’s stuff.

“You know, it’s been like two months since we met.”

Sam hummed in agreement, squinting his eyes a little as he wondered where Peter was going with this.

“And we started dating almost a month ago, right?”

Peter tried to keep his face blank but the light blush on his cheeks gave him away.

“Is this.... do you want to celebrate it?” Sam asked cheekily. “I wouldn’t mind if you want to do it,” he added more seriously when he saw Peter’s blush.

“No!” Peter almost shouted, “I mean, yes,” he continued, embarrassed. “We should totally celebrate it. Just. Hm. I might or might not have mentioned you to my aunt.”

This time, it was Sam’s turn to feel embarrassed.

“Right,” he said, just for the sake of saying something.

“So,” Peter started again, “Aunt May would very much like to meet you. How do you feel about that?”

“I…”

Sam stopped and shrugged. To be honest, he didn’t know. He rarely went to that stage with his girlfriends. Even with Jessica, he only met her family once or twice during the three years they dated. Jessica met Dean exactly once and never met John.

“Don’t worry, Aunt May is the sweetest woman I know,” Peter rushed to say, looking at Sam who was probably sending vibes of “deer caught in the headlights”. “She’s just a little tiny bit overprotective with me, but that’s normal.”

Oh, good, an overprotective aunt, Sam thought, just what he needed. He knew the kind and he feared what was going to happen to him if he said yes. Then he looked at Peter, saw his hopeful but concerned eyes and soldiered on.

“Alright. I’ll meet your aunt.”

Peter whooped and smashed his mouth against Sam’s. The ex-hunter groaned and chuckled at the same time.

“You’re the best,” Peter murmured against his lips.

“I know.”

Sam winked, while Peter rolled his eyes.

“Hey, when’s your appointment for your cast?”

Sam grinned, excited.

“Next Thursday, at 9am.”

Peter’s eyes crinkled.

“Happy?”

“Like you can’t believe.”

“Come on, let’s celebrate. I’ll order out.”

A smile still lingering on his lips, Sam watched Peter as he walked to his backpack and grabbed his phone.

The next morning, Peter texted him that they would have dinner with Aunt May the day of Sam’s cast removal. He was a bit nervous at the prospect of meeting Peter’s aunt. She was his family, and Sam didn’t know how he should act. After everything the young man told him about his aunt, Sam didn’t feel entirely confident. At least, he’d have both his hands free if he needed to defend himself.

The fearful day arrived before Sam could blink. The morning, Sam drove to the hospital and got out an hour later right arm sans cast. He needed physiotherapy, but at least he could reuse his arm.

Sam took the rest of the day to inform his regular clients that he was back on the job. He was happy to finally be able to work again. Getting paid was always a plus, especially when you’re trying to live in New York.

The hours passed until his phone chimed. It was Peter telling him he would arrive soon at the motel.

Sam’s heart stumbled. Gosh, he wasn’t prepared. He said goodbye to his last client and drove back to the motel. Peter was already there, prepared and waiting for him. They left as soon as Sam took a shower and dressed. The trip was spent in silence; Sam was too nervous to make conversation, and Peter was tired of his day.

When Sam parked near May’s apartment building, he cut the engine and didn’t move. Noticing his reaction, Peter squeezed his hand reassuringly, but Sam couldn’t calm his heart down. It would be the first time he met someone’s parents after Jess… ten years later. Sam looked at Peter and smiled at him before nodding.

“Come on, let’s go.”

They both got out of the car and walked to the building. Peter entered the entry code and the door opened with a click. They climbed the seven flight of stairs to May’s apartment. At the door, Peter kissed him lightly on the lips before opening it.

“Aunt May, we’re here!” Peter announced cheerfully.

A charming middle-aged woman with long black hair turned and looked up from the couch. She smiled brilliantly when she saw Peter. His boyfriend literally lit up and let Sam’s hand down to hug her.

“Peter, finally, I thought you got lost,” she said cheerfully. Sam could detect a very faint accent in her voice, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was.

“Sorry, Sam was pretty nervous,” Peter admitted, throwing a wry look at Sam who made a face. This wasn’t exactly the first impression he wanted to make. May’s laser eyes fell on Sam and observed him from head to toe. She was probably measuring him up and thinking up ways she could take him down if he hurt Peter in any way.

Maybe Peter had been a little too adamant that his aunt would do anything for him, like murder if it came to it.

“Well, welcome Sam,” she said, walking towards him.

He smiled, feeling a bit awkward, and definitely too big.

“Peter told me a lot about you,” she continued as she came up to him, extending a hand. Sam fumbled a bit, surprised by the comment. He shook her hand.

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, that boy was constantly talking about the non-existent boyfriend he had,” she replied, rolling her eyes fondly.

“Aunt May!” Peter protested, embarrassed.

“Peter didn’t tell me about you until I caught one naughty picture on his phone…” She winked, and Sam couldn’t tell who was blushing the hardest: Peter or himself.

“You let your aunt see that,” Sam asked haltingly.

“But…” Peter started to say. “I forgot to lock my phone, and someone called me and Aunt May saw it before I could grab it and…”

Sam rolled his eyes.

“At least, it wasn’t the worst,” Peter finished with a shrug. Sam didn’t think his cheeks could feel hotter before that moment. Peter should probably shut up now.

“Agreed,” May commented. “I’ve seen worse pictures than a sweaty bare-chested hot male looking at you with intense eyes. You could have found worst Peter. Good job.”

She patted her nephew on the shoulder and went to check on the oven, leaving Peter gaping in her wake. Sam didn’t think he could feel more embarrassed. Peter seemed to shake out of his state and whirled around.

“I hope you didn’t cook,” he said, almost running after his aunt.

“Who do you take me for?” May huffed, waving a dismissive hand at Peter. “I ordered. Don’t be stupid, boy.”

“Well, I never know with you. Sometimes, you have crazy ideas.”

While aunt and nephew continued their banter, Sam observed the apartment. Peter told him that when his uncle was still alive, they used to live in a house. But at his death, May couldn’t pay for a whole house with only one salary, so they had to move and get a smaller place.

Peter was worried that Sam would scoff at the place they lived in, but Sam quickly erased his doubts. He would never do that, even if he didn’t sleep most of the time in motels or the car. In the end, apart from the school years and college, and sometimes going to Bobby’s, Sam hardly remembered sleeping in a house or an apartment. Peter had been incredibly relieved as if people had made fun of him before. It made Sam angry and heartbroken on his boyfriend’s behalf. He hadn’t thought he sent off this kind of signals and regretted not picking on it before.

Peter shouldn’t have worried. The apartment was homey, filled with all sort of objects, pictures, and memorabilia. Sam smiled when he looked closer at the pictures on a cupboard. There were several framed pictures of a younger Peter with medals (decathlon) or trophies (2^nd place at a science fair). In others he was with May, in some there was also a man (uncle Ben?). Sam’s eyes continued to look until he landed on a photo of Peter and a couple Sam didn’t recognize. It was the only photo of the three of them.

Sam felt someone coming by his side. He turned around and saw it was May. She was smiling softly, even though there was a twinge of sadness in her expression.

“My husband, Ben,” she pointed at the pictures where the man was present. “Peter’s parents, Richard and Mary,” she continued, showing the couple Sam didn’t know. She grabbed one of the frames where Peter, Ben and May were all smiling at the camera.

“It’s funny,” she said sadly, “We never really did decide if we wanted kids, Ben and I.” She sighed and put the frame back on the cupboard. “And then Richard and Mary…” May trailed off. She turned her head to look at Sam. “When Peter came to live with us, the topic never came back.”

Sam didn’t know what to say. Everything on his tongue was bland and cliché. It was better not to say anything.

“Do you have siblings?” May asked suddenly.

Sam opened his mouth to say that yes, he had a sibling.

“Yes,” he answered, throat closing up. “I had a big brother.”

May didn’t miss the use of the past tense.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, sincere and Sam smiled reassuringly at her.

“It’s… ok.” He shrugged. “I just wish that I had had more time with him.”

“What about your parents?”

Sam chuckled, choked up.

“They’re not… they passed away too, years ago.”

If possible, May looked more crestfallen.

“Oh, no, my boy. I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t know why but her reaction, which seemed genuine, brought tears to his eyes. He tried to hide it but May saw it. She raised a hand and touched his back as a comforting gesture. Maternal. It grounded Sam and he inhaled. He didn’t want Peter to see him like this. He would get worried. Sam turned to her.

“Thanks. And sorry for this.” He made a vague gesture towards him.

She tutted, her face softening.

“No, don’t apologize. I understand. Sometimes, it’s too much. Peter would understand too.”

“I know,” Sam replied. “I just don’t want him to carry another burden.”

May chuckled.

“You know him well.”

“Enough, I guess,” Sam shrugged. Peter came barreling in the living room just at this moment.

“So, are we eating? I’m famished.”

“Let’s go, Peter,” May said, inviting Sam to the table.

Sam hadn’t felt confident before meeting May and had been dreading a little the dinner with the woman, knowing what Peter told him about his aunt. After that, however, Sam realized where Peter got his beautiful heart. By the end of the evening, Peter was positively glowing as he watched his two favorite people getting along.

As Sam kissed Peter good-bye, he understood why Peter loved his aunt so much. She was a wonderful woman, and the only family he had left.

If Sam could see Dean one more time, he wouldn’t say no.

*

And then…

*

One day, after Sam finished one of his appointments, he was supposed to meet Peter near the Avengers tower. He expected a lot of things from New York and New Yorkers, but he hadn’t expected to bump into Roy of all people. The man was looking through a journal (much like John’s) and was leaning against a car, a beat-up Volvo which had seen better days in the 90s.

Sam didn’t want to talk to him, not now, not ever, and certainly not after what they did, Walt and him.

maybe Sam should’ve stayed dead

Sam shook his head at the intrusive thoughts. Come on, man, don’t fall into this trap. Dean wouldn’t want you to do that. Peter would hate you for that. So, Sam walked away. Roy wasn’t even looking in his direction.

However, the Winchester luck struck again.

“Winchester!” Roy called out and Sam pretended not to hear him.

“Hey!” Roy shouted, grabbing Sam by the arm to stop him. The ex-hunter gritted his teeth and whirled to face the other man, poking him in the chest.

“Leave me alone, Roy. You don’t want to mess with me now.”

Roy let out an ugly laugh.

“You haven’t changed, Winchester. Always the same, always the mons—”

Sam didn’t think. He grabbed Roy by the throat and pushed him in an alley farther away. When he released him, the other man coughed, a hand on his throat, while looking at Sam, wary.

Good. He should fear him.

“I don’t know why you’re here, Roy, but you better haul ass elsewhere.”

“You think I’m here for you, freak? Nah, you’re not that important,” Roy spit on the ground near Sam’s shoe. “You Winchesters always think you’re the chosen ones, but you’re not. You’re just the bastards who fuck shit up and scramble to fix it. And you always do a shoddy job. Why do you think no hunters want to work with you Winchesters? People always die around you.”

Sam clenched his jaw and considered punching Roy right here, damned if there were people who saw it. How dare he? How dare he say that when Sam had lost so much; his friends and his family? How dare he when Roy tried to kill them?

“Listen to me very carefully Roy,” Sam threatened, a finger pointed at the man, “this isn’t your turf. New York is off limit. Leave now and you’ll be fine.”

“Or what,” Roy taunted with a smirk. “What are you going to do? Beat me up? Kill me?” He chuckled when Sam didn’t answer.

“Right. That would ruin your perfect image.”

“Sam?” Peter’s voice resonated in the alley. No, no, no. Sam’s eyes grew wide and he slowly turned around, heart in his throat. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

“Hey, Peter, sorry,” Sam started with an embarrassed expression. “I just…”

Roy interrupted him.

“Hi, I’m Roy.”

He bypassed Sam and walked to Peter, offering his hand. Sam followed him and tried to get himself between Peter and Roy. The young man’s eyes were flickering between the two men, silently asking Sam what was happening.

“Hi,” Peter answered as he shook Roy’s hand. “Are you two friends?”

Sam closed his eyes as Roy chuckled darkly.

“More like… acquaintances.” Roy threw a look at Sam that didn’t bode well. “I was surprised to find Sam here. Rumor has it the… accident that took his brother had also killed him.”

Roy smirked at Sam, knowing his words would strike a chord. Sam closed his fist in anger.

“Leave,” Sam growled. Roy huffed but listened to Sam. Roy was almost out of sight (and out of Sam’s life) when he looked back.

“Peter,” he said, emphasizing his name, “you should watch your back with this one… he’s not who you think he is.”

“Don’t worry, Roy,” Peter replied, imitating the other man’s tone. “I’m sure I can handle Sam.”

Roy snorted, shaking his head.

“If you say so.”

Roy finally left, and Sam tried to breathe in and out. He felt Peter’s fingers gently opening his clenched fist.

“Are you OK?” Peter asked, taking his hand. Sam tensed and slipped his hand out of Peter’s grasp. He didn’t feel like being touched right now. The young man tried to hide how hurt he was by Sam’s reaction. It didn’t work. Sam briefly closed his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” Sam said, voice hoarse.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Sam shook his head. Peter pressed his lips together but let it go. He knew his boyfriend wanted to talk, but he wasn’t in the mood.

“Do you still want to go to the expo?” Peter asked, though he looked already a little exasperated.

“I don’t know,” Sam replied. He didn’t want to hurt Peter, but the fact that Roy was here scared him. He needed to know why he came to New York.

“Fine,” Peter said, voice clipped. “I’ll be at the tower then. When you’re ready to spend time with me, you’re welcome to join me.”

Peter didn’t wait for an answer, he turned his heels and left Sam in the alley. The ex-hunter felt bad for hurting Peter this way, but he also knew the young man was too curious for his own good. Sam might have told him a little bit about his past as a hunter, but he didn’t tell him about Roy and Walter. He wasn’t sure how Peter would react to that.

Sam went to his car, ready to leave. However, as he inserted the key in the ignition, he stopped himself. Did he really want to leave like that? He hated it when Peter was mad at him. He hadn’t meant to upset Peter. Sam sighed and took out his phone. He sent a quick apologetic text, asking Peter if he could call him. While waiting for an answer, Sam thought he should just go and call Peter later. It wasn’t like he could just go in the Avengers tower. The Avengers probably didn’t take kindly to strangers in their quarters.

Before he could convince himself to leave, his phone chimed. He had barely had time to look at the screen when he received another text.

PETER

Come in!

PETER

Tell the receptionist you have a meeting with Mr. Stark

Sam raised an interrogative eyebrow but since Peter couldn’t see him, he just pocketed the phone and did as he was told. He got out of the car and walked to the tower’s sliding doors. Before entering the building, he hesitated and couldn’t resist looking up. He gulped at the looming size of the building, especially knowing who inhabited it.

He felt rather self-conscious when he crossed the threshold of the infamous tower. It wasn’t every day that you could just walk in. Especially when you were Sam, he thought as he watched smartly dressed workers getting in and out of the elevators.

The high ceiling of the huge lobby almost gave him vertigo. Everything seemed to be made of glass and clear colors, illuminating the whole thing. There were a few screens here and there with Avengers videos playing, sprinkled with Stark Industries promotional videos and some other charities Sam didn’t know.

He had to admit he was kind of impressed by the sleek and modern architecture. He couldn’t even make out the camera in this artfully made lobby. Sam huffed, amused. He had fought angels and demons. He even stopped the apocalypse. He could face superheroes on their own turf.

He noticed that the few guards positioned in the room were watching him intently. He supposed that he wasn’t Stark Industries’ usual worker. His jeans and flannel shirt clashed with the high-tech place. He walked to the receptionist and gave her the best smile he had. He hoped that what Peter told him worked.

“Hello and welcome to the Avengers Tower,” she greeted with a professional smile, “how can I help you today?”

“Hi, I have an appointment with Mr. Stark.”

If she thought it was weird, she didn’t show it.

“Do you have an ID?” she asked.

“Sure.”

Sam grabbed his wallet and gave her his (fake) ID. She looked over it, lingering on the picture for a few seconds then looking at Sam. She seemed satisfied and started to type something on her keyboard. She nodded and pressed another key. She grabbed a plastic card and swept it over some sort of scanner. She pressed a keyboard and looked up at him.  

“Alright. Here’s your visitor badge,” she indicated, giving him a plastic card, “it gives you access to all the public areas and Mr. Stark’s office. I will keep your ID until you are ready to leave.” She paused and watched him, waiting for his acknowledgement.

Sam nodded, even though he didn’t feel comfortable leaving his (fake) ID with her. If they notice anything suspicious about it, Sam didn’t want to be here when they call the police.

“Good. To access Mr. Stark’s office, you need to take this elevator,” she continued, showing the elevator doors on her left, opposite to the other elevators.

As he walked toward the elevator, the doors slid open, surprising him. Sam threw a cursory glance on the ceiling, but again, he couldn’t find the cameras.

As soon as Sam climbed in the car, the doors closed and went up without waiting for his input. Sam cleared his throat and shuffled a little. It didn’t reassure him. He stayed there for a good five minutes until the doors finally opened.

He thought he’d see Peter on the other side. Instead, Tony Stark and the Black Widow were waiting for him. He looked at them and wondered if Peter actually texted him or if it was a ploy from those two.

“Mr. Smith, welcome to the Avengers Tower.” Stark said with a sharp smile. Romanov, next to him, examined him from head to toe. It was a clinical look over, as if he was a prey and she was the hunter. Sam hid his sudden spike in adrenaline as he stepped out of the elevator to meet the heroes.

“Peter told me to come here,” he pointed out, hoping he wasn’t wrong.

“I know,” Stark replied with a slight squint. “I told him he could invite you up.”

“Thank you, I guess.”

Sam smiled tightly, not sure what the situation was. Tension was high in the air. Romanov was still watching him intently, coiled while Stark pretended to mess with his phone. It was a stalemate until Peter barged in on them. The young man stopped abruptly and looked at them with wide eyes.

“Please, he’s my boyfriend,” he said, almost begging.

Sam turned to him with an incredulous expression. Peter shrugged, contrite and gave him a small smile. Still not reassuring, Sam thought as he glared a little at his boyfriend. First, it was May, now, it was Peter’s teammates.

“Yeah, yeah, sure,” Stark sighed, not looking at them. “Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do or would do. You know the drill, kid.”

In the first show of emotion since Sam met her, Romanov rolled her eyes.

“You,” Stark continued, pointing at Sam, “keep your hands to yourself.”

Peter squeaked, and Sam raised his hands in a placating manner.

“Right. I’m late, I should probably go,” Stark muttered in his breath. Romanov looked at him when he didn’t move. They shared a look and Stark shrugged, bypassing Sam on his way to the elevator.

“Natasha, you’re coming?” Stark called out as he leaned against the car’s wall. “It won’t wait for you.”

“Yes, it will,” she replied with a light voice, but she was staring at Sam. She walked up to him, her eyes promising a lot of unpleasant things, and whispered, “If you hurt Peter…”

She smirked sharply and brushed him as she joined Stark in the elevator. Sam’s eyes followed her. Stark waved goodbye as the doors closed on them. Once they were out of earshot, Sam turned his attention back to Peter who stared at him sheepishly.

“Sorry, they’re kind of overprotective.”

Sam huffed, raising his eyebrows.

“Reminds me of your aunt.”

Peter shrugged, a grin on his face. Sam let out a breath and walked to the young man.

“I’m sorry for earlier, Peter. I…” Sam paused, not knowing what to say.

“You never really talk about your past, and with the… the wendigo, and the werewolf, I understand that it’s not something usual… I just...” Peter grabbed Sam’s hand. “I just felt so helpless when I saw how you were hurting because of that guy. I wanted to help but…”

“I pushed you away,” Sam said.

Peter nodded.

“I understand. Sort of. Keeping secrets was kinda my thing too. Until recently, not even the Avengers knew about my civilian identity. I just wish you could tell me more. I see that it’s weighing you down and I want to be there for you.”

When Sam didn’t answer, Peter cupped his face and kissed him chastely on the lips.

“You know I wouldn’t judge very much,” he added with a cheeky smile.

Sam barked a laugh.

“You’re right. You never judge.”

“Nope, never in my life.”

Peter giggled and broke away from Sam, taking his hand.

“Come on, I’ll show you the workshop!”

Sam let Peter lead him to a door in the Avengers floor. Peter touched the wall which slid part of the wall over, revealing a keypad. Peter smirked at Sam’s awe. The young man entered a 6-digit code and the door opened with a soft click. At the end of the hallway, there was another elevator.

“So, consider yourself lucky,” Peter babbled as they walked to the elevator, “because you’re gonna be in Tony’s workshop and it’s awesome. He hates people poking around, and more than half of what he does really, really shouldn’t be out in the public.”

They entered the elevator.

“And well, he’s kinda paranoid and really protective of his tech,” Peter continued, gesturing wildly. “Not that I blame him.”

“And you’re allowed in?” Sam interjected, finally able to get a word edgewise.

“Sure! All the Avengers are. And you, I guess,” Peter added after a beat. “Though, I’m not sure why.”

“He trusts you.”

Peter looked at him with a sweet expression.

“Of course, but he doesn’t know you and he never invites new people in. So, I was kinda confused as to why he told me to bring you there.”

Sam had an inkling of the reason. His lab was probably the most secure room of the Avengers Tower. Stark might have planned to kill him.

The elevator stopped, and the doors opened. As soon as they stepped out, the lights came on and illuminated the room. At first glance, the workshop was rather bare. There were a few workbenches, one desk with a computer with three screens and some sort of landing pad on the right. On the left, there was a couch, a sink and a fridge. Sam felt a bit disappointed. He had expected more from Stark’s workshop, something closer to a Sci-Fi book.

“Come on, I want to show you something awesome!” Peter exclaimed, untangling their hands. He skipped to the computer and pressed a key. The screens lit up with the specs of the Spider-Man suit and web shooters.

“And…” Peter pressed another key on the keyboard and suddenly, the Spider-Man suit came to life next to Sam. He startled and took a step back, as adrenaline surged through him. This wasn’t an enemy. When he looked at Peter, the young man had a hand over his mouth, hiding the smile Sam could see poking out. The ex-hunter narrowed his eyes playfully and stalked to Peter. The other man half-laughed, half-gasped when Sam crowded him against the desk.

“What did you think you were doing?” Sam asked in the gravelly voice he knew Peter loved.

Peter’s smile widened. He put his arms around Sam’s neck.

“Well, I wanted to see if I could scare you.”

Sam raised his eyebrows and leaned in, his mouth brushing over Peter’s skin at the corner of his mouth. Peter shuddered and tried to kiss Sam. The ex-hunter evaded him, making Peter pout. Sam smiled and finally kissed hos boyfriend.

Peter let out a soft gasp and climbed on the desk behind him to sit and wrap his legs around Sam’s waist, bringing him closer. Sam sighed satisfyingly, roaming his hands on Peter’s back, slipping his fingers under his shirt and—

Someone cleared their voice, startling them both. As if burned, Sam pulled away from the embrace, his face feeling hot. Peter closed his eyes, groaning while Sam looked around to see who was in the room. Dread washed over Sam when he realized there was no one else but them in the workshop.

“Seriously, J. Why?” Peter whined, now looking at the ceiling.

“Sir told me to keep an eye on you,” the invisible person said, sounding amused.

Peter rolled his eyes.

“Oh, come on. Don’t tell me he never did that.”

“I’m not allowed to say,” the voice replied in the way that confirmed it, “however, need I remind you this is Sir’s workshop and he can use it however he wants?”

As a joke, Peter imitated silently the voice then stuck his tongue out.

“Fine. I’m sorry.” Peter conceded, sighing, when the voice pointedly didn’t say anything more. “Please don’t tell him.”

The voice didn’t answer right away, which made Peter narrow his eyes.

“JARVIS?”

“I will not tell Sir if he doesn’t ask me specifically.”

Peter slumped on himself.

“Thanks, man, I owe you.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Mr. Parker.”

“JARVIS?” Sam asked once he found his voice back.

Peter jumped on the ground.

“Mr. Stark’s AI. He’s great.” Peter added with a smile. “This is cool right?”

For a moment, Sam thought Peter was talking about JARVIS, and yes, it was cool (although scary) but the young man was pointing at the intangible suit.

“This is impressive,” Sam commented while looking at the hologram from every side without touching it.

“You can touch it if you want.”

Peter “grabbed” one of the arms and raised his hand. The hologram followed his movement and stayed in the air. Sam couldn’t help but gape. Dean would’ve gotten a kick out of it, Sam mused with a pang. Yeah, his big brother would’ve loved to see this. Tentatively, he extended his hand to touch the hologram. As predicted, there was nothing tangible. He decided then to poke it and the whole suit moved away from him.

“Wow.”

Peter was grinning like a loon. He went back to the computer and pressed another key. The hologram disappeared.

“Why did you go into reporting?” Sam suddenly asked. Peter was so relaxed here, he looked in his element. “You seem to love it more than photography.”

“Well,” Peter started. “Spider-Man is technically my job. I’ve always loved science. It helps me improve my suit. Photography has become a way to earn money without being stuck to a desk from 9 to 5.’

“So that you can go on patrol whenever you want.”

Peter nodded.

“But… Jameson hates you.” Sam frowned, now confused. “Well, he hates Spider-Man.”

Peter grinned.

“For someone who hates Spider-Man so much, he sure does love to print his picture.”

“To insult you.”

Peter shrugged, walking to Sam.

“It sells.”

Sam huffed and chuckled.

“I can see that.”

Peter’s suddenly expression changed from joyful to serious. Sam grimaced, knowing what the next conversation would be about.

“I know you want to talk,” Sam started to say. “And we will, just… maybe not here?”

Peter looked at him knowingly and nodded.

“JARVIS, I can activate the Black Out mode, right?”

“Mr. Parker?” JARVIS inquired, sounding confused.

“Please, just a few minutes.”

The AI didn’t answer immediately, making Sam a little uncomfortable. He wasn’t sure how to feel about an AI thinking about what to do.

“Alright, just a few minutes,” the AI conceded gently.

Peter sighed in a relief.

“Thanks.”

Sam waited for something to happen. When nothing did, he turned to Peter who nodded. The young man pulled two chairs and plopped in one.

“JARVIS won’t record anything until I tell him to, so you can say whatever you want.”

Peter smiled reassuringly and invited Sam to sit on the other chair. The ex-hunter sat down, look at Peter and took a breath in.

Peter already knew about some parts of the supernatural, and how his family got involved. The thing was the Roy situation was something else entirely. It hadn’t been about a creature or a monster. It had been about Sam and the fact that he started the Apocalypse. How could he tell Peter that the man he loved had once fallen so far down, he resorted to drinking demon blood and in doing so, started the match that sparked the end of the world? How could he tell Peter that Roy and Walt tried to kill him? That the results of dying and resuscitating had broken something in Sam and Dean’s relationship?

Sam would always blame himself for the Apocalypse. If he hadn’t trusted Ruby, if he hadn’t felt so fucking alone, hopeless, and vengeful…

Sam cleared his throat and opened his mouth, not knowing where to start. Peter smiled encouragingly at Sam.

“Do you remember the Wendigo?”

Peter’s eyes became unfocused as he recalled that particular memory.

“Yeah,” he replied in a breath. “I do. It was… it had been frightening. That… thing charging you…” Peter trailed off.

“And you remember that I’m was a hunter,” Sam continued, “my family hunted creatures, things that go bump in the dark.”

“Yeah.”

“We’re not the only ones doing that. Roy is a hunter too.”

Peter’s eyes grew wide. He let out a soft “oh”.

Sam sighed, and passed a hand in his hair. There was no roundabout way to tell it. He was just going to say it without sugarcoating it.

“He tried to kill me a few years ago.”

“What?” Peter said, his face losing all color. Sam chuckled humorlessly.

“Yeah… and he nearly succeeded, too. He doesn’t like me very much… Seeing him again just threw me on a loop because… because…”

“Because he tried to kill you,” Peter completed in a breathless tone. Then, Peter jutted his chin, lips pressed together, a stubborn expression on his face.

Sam knew that face, and he hoped he could stop Peter from going after Roy. He knew the superhero wouldn’t kill Roy. It didn’t mean he wouldn’t try to send him to justice, and that would be bad for all hunters.

“Because he also tried to kill my brother,” Sam finished, making his boyfriend gasp with sympathy. There it was, Peter’s bleeding heart. He took Sam’s hand and squeezed reassuringly.

“I know Dean’s dead but remembering it hurts.”

“I know what you mean.”

Peter rolled up to Sam and snuggled, putting his head on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry I stormed out,” Peter said, his voice muffled by Sam’s shirt.

“No. I wasn’t fair to you. You did nothing wrong.”

He felt Peter shift.

“Now what?”

Sam frowned at Peter, not understanding what he was thinking.

“What do we do about Roy?” Peter asked, a twinkle in his eyes. He was preparing something, Sam knew it.

“You, you do nothing. I’ll take care of it, don’t worry.”

Sam kissed Peter to erase that look of concern he was sporting. He hoped Roy didn’t have anything up his sleeve that could jeopardize his life here and his relationship with Peter. Roy knew things about Sam that he’d rather keep secret, even from his boyfriend.

After this conversation, Peter made his duty to explain in great details the web shooters and his suit. And how Mr. Stark really helped getting them into shapes, and how he still couldn’t believe he was working with the Avengers, and how he loved being here for the big events but also for the little guy.

Sam’s heart soared with love when he looked at Peter so enthusiastically telling him about a perilous mission they did and how Peter had been the one to save the day.

Not really thinking and in a sharing mood too, Sam granted Peter with little tales of his own, mostly about Dean’s shenanigans and some of their weirdest cases (but not the ugliest and never the deadliest). Peter loved it since Sam rarely talked about his past. In the end, they spent hours in the workshop just talking.

At some point, Peter went to fetch food and drink. An hour or two later, Stark came back.

“Black Out mode, kid? Since when?” Stark asked with an eyebrow raised. Sam couldn’t read his expression.

“Oops?” Peter said, looking contrite enough that Stark only rolled his eyes and shooed them away with a scowl. Sam helped Peter tidy everything up before leaving the genius alone.

They had left the building and were going to the Impala when Peter tensed beside him.

“Peter?”

The young man was looking at. Sam followed his gaze across the street and found what he was looking at. Roy pretended to read his journal, but he had an infuriating smirk on his lips, knowing full well Sam was watching.

“Right, this is enough,” Peter muttered, and Sam had the good reflex to grab his arm to stop him.

“No, Peter. Please, not tonight,” he said, against Peter’s ear. “Please.”

The young man sighed unhappily but complied.

“OK. Not tonight.”

Sam mouthed “thank you” at him and led them away from Roy. He’d rather keep Peter away when Sam will confront Roy.

*

As the saying goes: third time’s a charm

*

Between jobs, Sam would try to find Roy. For days, he couldn’t find anything until one day, he noticed by chance the same beat up Volvo in the streets. Sam waited to see if Roy would show up, and when he did, Sam decided to follow him. He tailed Roy to the docks. The other hunter drove through the warehouses until the very end where he finally stopped. This warehouse was as far from the city as possible and well-hidden from prying eyes. Sam had an inkling Roy had something stashed in here.

Sam’s lips turned up in a joyless smile.

As soon as Roy was inside the building, Sam got out of his car and looked around first to see if there wasn’t another way to get in. He didn’t want to spook Roy right away. He needed to know where he was setting foot.

He found a service door around back. He tried the handle which opened easily enough. Sam took his gun in hand and crept silently between the racks. At first, he didn’t hear any noise apart from the waves and birds chirping.

Finally, after searching a few more seconds, Sam started to make out voices. He walked closer to the voices and realized it was Roy. Another voice sounded, raspy and feminine. Sam didn’t recognize it. He frowned and walked closer. His put his back against the rack and listened when he could distinctly hear their conversation.

“I don’t know what to tell you,” Roy was saying. “It’s the truth. You don’t believe me, that’s your problem but don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.”

“This seems highly improbable,” the woman answered.

Roy huffed.

“You’re telling me that? Shouldn’t you be used to that sort of stuff?”

There was a silence. Sam tried to get a look of the woman. Though he quickly realized he couldn’t, not without being seen.

“There is our sort of stuff and your sort of stuff it seems,” she replied with a lilt in her voice. “I just want to know,” she continued with a serious tone, “is he dangerous?”

“Yes,” Roy answered matter-of-factly. “He doesn’t look like it but he’s… you have to be careful around him.”

Sam didn’t know whether he should feel proud or insulted by Roy’s statement.

“Noted,” the woman said, and silence fell again. Sam waited a few beats before leaving his hiding place. Unfortunately, it appeared the woman was already gone. Roy whirled around when he heard him approach.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Winchester? You following me?”

“What do you think?” Sam retorted angrily. “I thought you left and here you are, talking to a woman about… me?”

Roy smiled.

“So, you didn’t see her?”

Sam frowned, and it seemed to be answer enough for Roy. The other man seemed way too jubilant about it.

“Let just say that you’ll be watched, so don’t fuck up Winchester.”

That son of a bitch. He was so infuriating.

“What are you doing in New York?” Sam asked as Roy started to leave.

Facing him, Roy said, “Contrary to popular belief, I didn’t come for you.”

“For her, then?”

Roy snorted, shaking his head.

“Nope. She found me. No. I was here because apparently you forgot you were a hunter.”

Sam clenched his jaw and crossed his arms in front of his chest. It seemed to amuse Roy.

“When you get your head out of your ass, know that there are things in New York that shouldn’t be here. Are you so blind to what’s around you that you don’t even see it?”

Roy shook his head again, made a dismissive gesture with his hand and left Sam alone in the warehouse. Sam left not long after Roy.

On his way back to the motel, Sam mulled over what the other hunter told him. If what he said was true, then what has he been doing all this time? He had been able to shadow Spider-Man on some of his patrols, he also could have been on the lookout for supernatural events even though he didn’t hunt anymore. Had he been so focused on his life and the superhero world that he completely forgot about the other one?

At the motel, Sam didn’t waste any time and went on his computer. He needed to find what Roy had hinted at, what was happening under his nose. It didn’t take long. What he found made him sick. There were at least a dozen cases where a supernatural creature could have been responsible. All the cases were in New York or surrounding area, and in some of them, people died.

Sam put his head in his hands, gripping his hair and tugging his strands in his fists. When he looked back at the computer and saw the sheet-covered bodies, he snapped it shut and pushed it away from him.

What did he do?

*

He had to do something, right?

*

Sam canceled the jobs he had for the remainder of the day. By the time the evening rolled in, Sam had made a list of all the occurrences he should at least report. He hoped Garth still had the same number.

He took his phone and pushed the home button to leave the sleep mode. Sam grinned a little when he saw the numerous texts Peter sent him over the course of the day. The first texts were pretty normal for Peter. As Sam read on, he noticed the young man got more and more worried because Sam didn’t answer any of them.

Biting lightly his lower lip, Sam sent Peter a quick text, telling him he was fine. Then he went in his contact list and selected Garth. He sent him a text with the occurrences that most likely pointed at the supernatural. Before he could discard his phone, Peter was calling him.

Sam breathed out and answered, “Hey.”

“You OK?” Peter asked, concerned.

“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry if I worried you.”

“You kind of went off grid… I’m just.”

Peter stopped, and Sam briefly closed his eyes. He could hear the pain Peter was in, and Sam did that. He hurt the most important person in his life.

“I’m sorry, Peter,” Sam repeated, tone apologetic. He heard the young man sigh.

“At least, you’re OK.”

“Yeah.”

“I gotta go. Tony’s calling me. See you tonight?”

Sam nodded, “Yeah, I can’t wait.”

Silence fell on the line for a few beats. Sam worried he said something wrong.

“Love you,” Peter declared before hanging up, stunning Sam into silence.

He looked at his phone, and he couldn’t repress the pleased smile stretching over his lips. Smile that melted when he remembered that there was still this mysterious woman he needed to find. Even though he hacked New York’s CCTV, the camera near the warehouse entrance had either been put on a loop or didn’t film the correct angle, efficiently masking whoever met with Roy. It worried him, not knowing who the woman was. He didn’t know what she wanted with him. He couldn’t protect himself or Peter from her.

Before he could go further in his thoughts, his phone chimed. Garth had answered him. At least, Sam thought, everything wasn’t so gloom. Even if he wasn’t hunting anymore, he could help Garth keep track of what was happening in New York.

A few hours later, Sam was getting impatient. He couldn’t wait for Peter to arrive. He needed to talk to him face to face and properly apologize. Peter didn’t deserve the way Sam treated him today. He was going to take Peter out. He had reserved a table in a nice restaurant he hoped Peter would like.

When someone knocked, Sam bounced to the door, grinning.

“Peter!” He greeted before losing his smile. It wasn’t Peter in front of him but Roy. Sam frowned.

“What are you doing here, Roy?”

The man pushed his way in and closed the door with his foot.

“We have unfinished business, Winchester.”

Sam took a step back when Roy advanced on him.

“I thought I told you to leave New York.”

Roy chuckled, looking at Sam through his eyelashes.

“You did. And then, I remembered that I had a job to finish.”

Sam eyed the gun he had on the table. He was too far away to get it and Roy wouldn’t have come here without a weapon.

“I thought you weren’t here for me,” Sam spit, anger flaring.

Roy smirked, “I lied.”

When the other hunter quickly reached for his gun, Sam darted to the desk behind him. Roy fired his gun and hit Sam in his right thigh. He cried out, stumbled and crashed against the table, knocking it over. All its content crash on the ground. The gun bounced away from Sam. With a trembling hand, he pressed against his wound on his thigh, gritting his teeth to stop him from screaming from the intense pain. Rough hands grabbed him and turned him around. With his left arm, Sam tried to stay elevated to look at Roy who was smirking at him, his gun hanging low.

“You know, I waited years to be able to do that.”

Sam chuckled breathlessly, spikes of pain surging every other beat.

“You tried that once and it didn’t stick.”

Roy cooed at Sam.

“Oh, poor Sammy. I think, this time you won’t get any help from a higher power.”

Sam clenched his jaw, breathing loudly.

“If you do this, and I survive,” Sam growled, “I swear, I’m going to kill you.”

Roy leaned down and patted Sam’s cheek, a condescending expression on his face, keeping the damn gun out of Sam’s reach.

“It wasn’t nice knowing you, Winchester.” Roy said as he stood back. He raised his gun and aimed at Sam’s chest. His heart picked up, hammering against his ribs. He couldn’t let his fear show though. He wouldn’t let Roy have this satisfaction.

Sam smirked, “Just like old times, huh.”

He knew had less than a second to avoid a mortal wound. He used his left arm to move to the right. Roy fired the gun again and hit Sam in the chest, sending him to the ground with a shout. Pain exploded and submerged Sam.

He must have blacked out because the next time he opened his eyes, Roy was nowhere to be seen. Sam raised his right hand and ran his fingers on his chest wound to inspect it. He was bleeding heavily. Breath getting shorter, his whole body shaking from the pain, Sam needed to call 911 but his phone had been on the table.

He closed his eyes, inhaling and exhaling several times to brace for the pain that would come when he tried to move. Still with his right arm, he pushed on the ground and turned his body to be on his stomach. His vision whited out as pain shot in his left arm. Trying to keep his head up, he looked for his phone.

God, the phone wasn’t so far away but he had to crawl to get there and he wasn’t sure he could do it. And if he did, he didn’t think he’d be able to use the device seeing how his arms were shaking. Heaving, Sam tried to crawl forward and succeeded until the pain was too much for him to handle. As his vision danced, the ex-hunter extended his good arm to see if he could touch the phone.

“Dammit!” Sam swore when he realized he couldn’t reach the device. He tried again but his fingers fell short of a few inches. Sam sagged on the ground, eyes still fixed on the phone. His mean to survival was right there… His lids became heavy, his body went numb and Sam lost consciousness again in a matter of seconds.

A knock startled Sam awake. He was still on his stomach, the pain an everlasting sensation that took over all his body. He was cold, now. And tired, so tired.

“Sam?” a voice called out, knocking on the door.

Sam moaned Peter’s name.

“Please,” he begged, half crying.

“Sam?” Peter asked again.

The ex-hunter tried to shout again but he couldn’t even do that. There were a few seconds of silence before Sam’s phone buzzed. If he could only answer. The phone stopped buzzing and for a moment, he panicked. If Peter didn’t hear Sam’s phone, he’d think he was absent, and he would leave Sam here, dying, alone in this room.

God, he didn’t want to die.

As a last resort, Sam took the mug that had fallen not so far away from him and threw it as strongly as he could against the cupboard in the kitchen. It missed its target by far but as the kitchen was tiled, the mug shattered as it crashed to the ground. Sam hoped it made a noise loud enough to warn his boyfriend.

Apparently, it did. Sam heard Peter call him again, then the was the sound of splintered wood, and an anguished cry.

“Sam!”

Feet hurried to Sam, knees knelt, hands removed his hair from his eyes. Finally, Peter caught his eyes. He had his phone to his ear.

“Please, send help! Someone was shot at the motel…”

Sam didn’t hear the rest of the sentence. He lost once again consciousness with Peter’s hand on his back.

*

Life always finds a way.