Hi, everyone! It has been awhile! Things have been insane at work, but I'm also dabbling in other fandoms and gearing up to write another book (!). I haven't been that thrilled with the show since around Gadreel was ejected from Sam. Honestly, Gadreel as Sam had more insight and dialogue than Sam's character, and it's really frustrating that as good as the show is, Sam's emotional arc is continually sidelined. Granted, I do still enjoy it and didn't come back to complain. "Bloodlines" could've been so much better, but it did spark this little bunny and got me writing Winchesters again, which I love. Pleas let me know what you think!

Worthy

The only thing Ennis would remember about Tamara's funeral was the primal and seductive urge to scream.

The rage churned in him like a nefarious light, brighter than the gray grief and the fear of what was to come. Ennis balled his hands into fists, crossed his arms around him, bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted warm iron, but it grew hotter and louder because no one knew how she died or the evil that littered the streets and highrises of Chicago.

Until he glanced up from the rose-covered casket and saw a tall figure leaning against a barren tree, collar turned up against the swirling spring snow.

Sam Winchester.

There was something about him, the way the features were twisted and his body was held so tight. It felt familiar and suddenly, he didn't feel like screaming anymore.

Sam appeared again outside of Ennis' house, sitting on the porch as if he belonged there. Ennis loosened his tie, wanting nothing more than to fall into a bottle of whiskey or maybe from a bridge. Sam stood when he approached, hands tucked in his pockets.

It struck him then that he'd never seen Sam without his brother, Dean.

"Did you kill Megatron?" He asked huskily. He hadn't spoken much in the days since the Winchesters had abandoned him in the street.

"Metatron," Sam corrected, "and pretend you didn't hear that."

Anger glinted through him like lightning. "Should I pretend I don't know what I know? That I didn't just bury my fian...my girlfiend?"

"I never said that."

"No, you just dropped the bomb on me that monsters are poisoning my city and my girl got caught in the crossfire and left me to deal with the fallout."

"Why do you think I came back? You had that look in your eyes. The one that says 'I'm going to do something colossally stupid.'"

"Stupid is my Plan A." He shrugged as he unlocked the door and stepped inside. "If you think I can sit back and let this happen, you're out of your damn mind."

Sam crossed his arms over his shoulders and backed away, like Ennis' rage was contagious. "Leave this alone, man. We're taking care of it."

"Are you? Because I've been watchin' them, listening to the news and reading the papers. No one has done anything! They're still going to charity events and barbecues and probably eating the cater-waiters afterwards." He wildly waved a rumpled page of newsprint that bore a photo of the Durant family at a posh gala.

Sam raked his fingers through his hair, revealing livid bruises darkening his forehead and some swelling around his eye. Now that Ennis was really looking at him, he saw that Sam's lean body was bowed by fatigue, his pants were splattered in something dark like blood. "I wish it was that simple, but it's not. This is complicated. A lot more complicated than we first thought. What do you think would happen if the major players in this city just died or disappeared?"

Ennis faltered.

"Exactly, it would be mayhem. There would be investigations, manhunts. It would tear this city apart."

The pressure was building. Ennis pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. He couldn't take much more of this, he would explode. "I don't know how to not do anything. Sam, you have no idea what I'm feeling."

Sam's mouth flattened and somehow his entire face darkened. For a second, Ennis thought he would deck him, and he was struck with just how big Sam was. The other man turned on his heel, venturing further into the house. Ennis found him in the kitchen, pulling a bottle liquor from the fridge. It was the pre-mixed, super-sweet pink crap that Tamara drank. Sam eyed it questionably, but didn't say anything. Her things were scattered about the kitchen and the entire house. Ennis hadn't been able to touch them. He merely poured two mugs full of the stuff and slid one over to him. Weary, Ennis sat and gulped. The taste of it made him smile, but pain and grief followed, an agonizing burn.

Sam sat with a grimace and slid over his phone after tapping a few times. There was a beautiful blonde on the screen. The picture was blurry, like it was a photo of a photo, but even still she looked like sunshine. "Her name was Jessica Moore. And she was my girlfriend."

Ennis gaped at Sam, his stomach plummeted.

"I told you I understood and I do. She was killed in front of me, burned alive actually. So I know, Ennis. I get it. You want to set the city on fire. You want to chop off heads and grind bones with your fingers. You want to end them all," Sam menaced.

The screen faded to black and Ennis couldn't help but to feel the loss double inside of him.

"But you can't, kid. I went down that path. I vowed to kill the thing that killed Jessica, the woman I was planning to marry, and then return to my life."

"You and your brother are badass hunters. You got the job done right?"

Sam took a long pull. "That was ten years ago and I'm still hunting. One case turns into twenty and before you know it, you're in so deep you don't know which was is up...and getting out isn't an option no matter how hard you try."

"But you're helping people, right? Saving lives. I was going to be a cop like my old man anyway. Maybe I'm meant to do this."

"No one is meant to do this."

"But some people just brave enough not to." Ennis hedged.

Sam laughed humorlessly, an arm snaking over his ribs like they hurt. "You're like a dog with a bone." His mysterious visitor regarded him with a gaze that was so intense Ennis had to force himself not to look away. "I've lost my parents, Jess, friends, lovers, family...if you do this, you could lose everything. Is it worth that?"

Ennis was at a loss. "I d-don't know."

"Then stay out. Go on a trip, grieve and move on. You'll be better off."

Sam handed him a card with a phone number scrawled on the back. "If you need anything, call me. If I can't come myself, I'll send someone. If no one picks up, well then, I'm beyond helping you."

He stood with difficulty, leaving Ennis with an open-ended life which seemed far more terrifying than monsters. The diamond ring coldly swept against his neck.

"What if she's worth it?" he found himself asking to Sam's retreating figure. "I was proposing when it happened...we're supposed to be arguing about how many kids we're going to have and planning a wedding neither of us could afford. And I can't...her death needs to mean something. What if, despite everything you just told me, I'm in?"

Sam licked his lips. He was breaking, Ennis could see it. "What if I told you monsters were only grazing the surface? What if I told you that there are demons, actual minions from hell walking the earth?"

The hairs on Ennis' arms stood erect. He faltered, fear leeching in through the pall of grief. "W-what well, the devil hasn't, so..."

"He has." Sam corrected.

"You've seen him?"

Sam flinched, and said "Up close and personal," in a way that made Ennis' very unsettled. "What I'm saying is that the monsters are the easy part. The are angels and demons and vampires and witches and spirits all vying for mayhem and destruction. You cannot imagine how twisted this can get. Is she worth that?"

"Was Jessica?" Ennis asked pointedly, knowing he had no right.

Sam's eyes flashed with something unrecognizable, a mix of pride and pity and fondness. He took off his coat and picked up a duffel bag stowed by the door, its contents clattering like weapons. "Then we got work to do."