Love... Or not?

"Today," you smile to yourself, crossing a day off of a calendar.

Today was the day Sam, your boyfriend, came back from a hunt. Hunts are usually no big deal, but this was a two month hunt. You missed him, the time between was so horrible, but you can't wait to see his smiling face.

You grab your coat and slip on a pair of shoes, exiting the motel. You already looked in the phone book the previous night and the motel that was first was called "Abicana's." You break into a full sprint as you see him entering his room. Well, you see the very back of him, but the height and luscious moose hair gives it away. You go in after him.

"Sam, you're ba-" you were cut off at the sight.

"Leave," he says, pulling away from his kiss with another woman.

The woman glares at you.

I groan and stand up.

"Y/N, get out," I say, getting closer to her face.

She doesn't move.

"Why are you just standing there? Go!" I yell.

She flinches, then turns around, mumbles something I can't make out, then leaves.

"Sorry about that, babe," I smile at the woman on my bed.

"Who was that?" She asks.

"Some girl I used to date. She kind of stalks me," I lie.

She pauses for a moment. "Weird."

I laugh and then get closer, bending down to kiss her.

We continue to do things, but my body just goes with the movements, I don't really do much. I can't stop thinking about what I said and did to Y/N. Even if I did love- Shit.. What was her name? Amy? Alyssa? Whatever- this chick, I should've let Y/N down easily. After all, we did love each other.

You run into the motel you had before he came home, ripping open the door. You throw pictures of him on the ground, surely breaking the glass.

You lie down in your bed quietly. You were angry before, you're just sad now. "Dammit..." you mumble quietly.

You hear someone knock on the door.

You stand up and walk over to it, wiping away any tears or makeup streaks on your face.

When you open the door, you see long, brown hair and hazel eyes. A strong built man with high cheek bones and definitely vertically challenged.

Sam.

"Look, Y/N... I know I was wrong... and I'm so sorry..." he says quickly, knowing you're not afraid to close the door on him.

"I can't accept your apology," you say, shruging your shoulders up slightly and shaking your head.

"Can we talk about this?" He asks sincerely.

You nod slowly, opening the door wider for him to come in. He looks down at the floor, seeing the smashed photos.

He runs his fingers through his hair uncomfortably, continuing to look around.

"What?" You say, waiting for him to start.

He sighs. "I'm sorry."

You laugh sarcastically. "Oh really? You didn't seem sorry when you were shoving your tongue down her throat. Who even is she?" You ask.

"The owner's daughter of the motel Dean and I stayed at when we were away," he says.

"Yeah," you say.

"Y/N... I am... sorr-" you cut him off.

"Fuck you. I waited for you. For two months. I cried. I wasted my fucking tears on you, Sam. I was scared for your life."

He stays silent.

You start up again, "You should be scared for your life, Sam Winchester. I want you to fucking sob, just like I did. I want you to be scared that you'll die at any minute. I want you to feel exactly the way I did. Then? Then, I'm going to make out and fuck the son of whoever owns this place. I heard he's a hot little whore."

He remains silent.

"You fucking promised me. You said you'd never leave me." You take a slow but brave step forward. "You. . Broke. Your. Promise."

He finally speaks up. "I know... And then I was a dick to you. And I- I'm sorry..."

"Apologies don't fix everything, Sam! You can't un-fuck that girl!" You yell.

"I can't! But at least I'm fucking trying!" Sam yells.

"I'm sorry that I don't want to try and make-up with somebody that fucked someone and treated me like I was no one."

Silence takes over the small motel room for the longest time.

"I think you should leave," say quietly but boldly.

"What?" He asks in an offended tone.

"Please leave," you say, slightly louder.

He crosses his arms. "No."

You raise your eyebrows.  "Okay," you say after a moment.   You grab your coat and walk out the door.

You get in your car, a black '69 Chevy Chevelle Sport, and close your eyes.  You start up your car, listening to the engine. You drive for three hours with a destination in mind.

After three hours of driving, you pull into a motel.  You go up to the reception desk.

"Hey, there, ma'am.  How are you doin' today?" A woman greets in a strong Southern accent.

"I'm fine, but it's still early," you say, allowing the woman a small smile.

She returns it. "So what can I do for you today?" She asks, turning toward her computer screen and types in some numbers. 

You think to yourself.

"I don't know their names, I met them last night.  One of them has bright green eyes and dirty blond hair.  The other is about 6'4" and he has long, brown hair.  Sound firmilliar?" You say.

"Yes, ma'am," she smiles, typing something into her computer. 

"Room 12, right down the hall," she says, pointing.

"Thank you," you give her a soft smile and waliing down that way. 

You wipe your sweaty hands on your pants before knocking on the door.  You begin to tap your foot impatiently. 

"Yeah?" Sam answers, half asleep.

"Sam," you say quietly.

He hesitates, then his eyes fill with shock. "Y/N?" He says in disbelief.

You smile and manage a nod.

"Dean!" Sam yells back.

"What?" He yelld back.

"Come here!" Sam continues to smile.

"It better be a damn stripper.  I was having an amazing dream about this girl with three-" he reaches the door. "Y/N?" He says.

"In the flesh," you laugh a little.

"Wow..." he says. "It's really you."

"You know what you should do.  Get some celebration pie," you say to Dean.

He nods and licks his lips eagerly, grabbing his keys and leaves without another word.

"Y/N, I-"

You shush him. "It's okay.  We've both had time to accept what happened. I don't want to hear an apology."

He gives you a small smile.  "You look great."

You blush a little and look down.  "I'm... I'm thinking we should give us a go again.  But, no more two month hunts unless I'm there with you.  Got it?" 

He nods, giving you a wide smile.  "A day didn't go by that I didn't think about you."

"Me too, Sam," you say.

He gives you another soft smile and leans in for a kiss, but was interrupted by the door opening.

"Did you see thay car in the parking lot?!" He yells excitedly.

"Which one?" You ask.

"The black '69 Chevy Chevelle Sport," he says.

"Oh, that's mine," you smile.

"Sam, marry this woman," Dean demands.

"I plan on it," Sam promises.