The day Hermione was released from the hospital, Sam walked her out to the rented car and happily stated that there were no wrappers everywhere, to which Hermione let out a sigh and sarcastically said, "Damn, that was my favorite part." The drive to Bobby's was amusing, as Hermione went over the contents of her purse and mused about why, for example, exactly she felt the need to carry around three packs of gum that were all the same flavor. Sam called her a packrat and she'd halfheartedly slapped his arm, making him grin. He was glad that they didn't have to deal with Dean and his refusal to change a radio station, and they would talk about which songs they liked and didn't like while she continued to blindly search her comically small purse with her arm thrust in up to her shoulder.

"I'm going to get a soda, you want anything?" Sam asked as he pulled in to a gas station, grinning at Hermione as she stuck her tongue out and continued to dig around.

"Oh, yes, I certainly need another opportunity to get another pack of gum," she snorted before smiling, "I'm fine, thanks." Once he shut the door and started to walk away, she brightened and pulled out her phone. "Got it! After what, three hours of digging? Hmm. Should've 'Accio'ed it." She checked around to make sure no one else was looking before sending everything else back into her purse before shrinking that and tying it around her neck like she usually did, making a weird sort of choker. She tossed her phone back and forth dully a few times, as it was dead, before she checked the screen and blinked in surprise. "Wow. Nineteen missed calls? I'm popular." She looked in confusion at the screen, "And they're all from Sam…." She pressed her voicemail and held it up to her head, biting her lip and staring at a small scratch in the dashboard.

"Hey. It's me," Sam's voice caught, "Castiel told me your guardian angel might…uh, he might take you off of Earth duty. And…I don't want you to leave, Hermione. You're so very important to me, and I have never, not once, gotten over you. I have never gotten over you, and we've never dated! And to think that you might leave, and never know, and just leave me and Dean, it just…it sucks." There was a sigh and then a thunk in the background. "Just…please let her be alright. Please. I'm begging you." The line cut off and Hermione stared in surprise at the screen before hiding her phone under her leg and looking innocently up at Sam as he slid back into the driver's seat, grinning and holding up two bottles of water.

"I got you something anyway – they were out of your gum," he grinned, making her smile half-heartedly back. He looked curiously at her as he set the bottles in the cup holder. "You okay?"

"Fine," she stated, although he frowned.

"Do we need to go back to the hospital?"

"No, Sam, not unless you feel the need to," she grinned and rolled her eyes, "Honestly, I'm fine. Just drive on. You won't let me Apparate us."

He started the car and looked at her pointedly, "The last time we Apparated, I puked. And since you're still pretty out of it, I don't want you getting my leg cut off or having you puke on me." She laughed and he grinned, starting off the drive with easy smiles and grins. As it got darker, though, Hermione stared out of the window and watched the cars blur together, knowing that Sam kept glancing over at her worriedly every few minutes or so.

She had to admit that it wasn't like she hadn't thought of Sam in a more-than-friends way. They were around one another constantly, ever since she decided to take a small break from the Wizarding World and head over to America, where she was promptly caught by an also seventeen year old Sam and his older brother. She remembered having to apologize to him for roundhouse kicking him in the head. Oops. And then he'd left without so much as a goodbye to her, and she'd felt incredibly hurt. That's when she figured out she was practically in love with the boy.

Dean had caught on faster than she would ever have suspected of him and urged her to 'at least try for God's sake' whenever they were attempting to break into his house, and she'd hurriedly whispered that if there were any possibility of them being together, then he wouldn't have bloody well left in the first place, and her magic had made his neighbor's swing set melt and she'd fidgeted with trying to fix that and get up the nerve to see him again while Dean went ahead and broke in before she followed.

She was quite glad to see Sam, of course, but not so much Jessica. Of course, the Winchesters liked beautiful women who had a clue about makeup and how to fix their hair and actually bothered with dressing nice instead of baggy jeans, combat boots, and a dark long sleeved shirt. Why would she ever think any different in the first place? She rather gave up any hope after that. Too bad the girl had been a demon in disguise and ended up breaking Sam's heart while Dean berated him on not checking first, as apparently even he checked his one night stands before sleeping with them. Hermione had shooed him away and ordered him to walk off before sitting on the hood of the Impala like they usually did when Dean wasn't around and watched him worriedly before settling a hand on his shoulder and smiling at him and promising that it would be better eventually. She let him rant and rave and complain to her until Dean came back, but she quickly waved him to walk off again, and the next time she explained to Sam that it was certainly not his fault.

Sam certainly fit everything she had on her little mental checklist of things she liked in men. He was smart, funny, and could take care of himself and even her (if she ever needed it – which she didn't. Much. Just when she got in trouble.) He cared about her and Dean, and she felt as if these two boys were her family, even making her feel better once she told them that she had gotten rid of her parents' memories and hid them in Australia. Sam had even offered for them to go and look for them.

When Ron and Harry had met the Winchesters, they were sketchy, and Dean and Sam were sketchy of them, but Hermione had set them straight that if either parties were rude, she'd hex the both of them in that party, no matter who had done it. So Ron was told to go stand in a corner while Harry talked to the two, and they got along rather well, and Ron was even allowed to get out of the corner towards the end. Whenever Harry and Ron left though, they'd hugged Hermione tightly and Harry had said that she always had to find two boys to worry over. Ron had said that she always had to find some type of trouble. She still wrote them letters and sent them things on their birthdays and holidays, and she thought briefly about convincing the boys to go to the Burrow for Christmas once, but immediately shot that idea down. Sam alone would be calm enough, but if Dean was there….

These two were like her family. She cared about them and worried about them constantly. She loved them enough already. If something happened between her and Sam and things didn't go right…she hated to think of what would happen.

"What's wrong?" Sam spoke up, making her blink and look over at him.

"Nothing," she smiled lightly, "Just thinking."

He hummed and shot her a disbelieving look before smiling a little and turned back to the road, "I'm thinking about stopping at a motel soon. You alright with that?"

"It's not as if I could take over and drive," she sighed, remembering the time she'd been saddled with two unconscious Winchesters and the Impala and had to remember that it was to the right and not the left. "Especially not with all of the drugs the hospital is having me take."

"You did nearly die in a car crash, Hermione," he pointed out as he flicked the signal light on and turned into the motel. He sighed when he shut the car off, tilting his head back and rubbing his eyes as Hermione watched in amusement and slipped her phone into her pocket. They got out and stretched and walked to the front desk, Hermione leaning against the counter and looking around dully as they waited for someone to come to the front desk.

It had been nice, at one point, but now it just seemed faded. Even the furniture looked as though it had been sun-bleached or something.

"How can I help you two?" a man asked, rather tall and skinny and twig-like, and his glasses made his eyes rather large.

"Uhh, two rooms, please," Sam said. Whenever Hermione was with them, the clerks always seemed overly fond of giving them one room with one single bed, and then another with some sort of double mattress. Dean would always ask once they went down to get the rooms fixed which one the clerks thought were together. When one clerk, who had no idea the two were brothers, had stated that she thought Dean and Sam were together, Dean had stopped asking. Sam had no complaints there.

The man pursed his lips and glanced between Hermione and Sam. "I've only got one room left."

"Seriously?" Hermione questioned, making him blink at her accent before nodding.

"I was just about to flick the 'no vacancy' light on," he said, pointing at it for emphasis.

"Well, where's the closest motel, then?" Sam asked.

"Next state over," he sniffed as Sam slapped his head on the counter.

Hermione sighed and frowned at the ceiling. If this was somebody's idea of a joke up there…. "Fine," she frowned, taking the key and practically dragging Sam off of the counter.

"Not even a couch," Sam sighed once they stepped into the room, which looked faded, just as everything else at the motel did. He looked to Hermione as she plopped down on the edge of the bed – which was large enough for two - and arched an eyebrow up at him. "How do you want to work this?"

"If they have a tub one of us could sleep there," she hummed, "Probably me. You're too tall."

"Ahh, such a curse," he grinned back before checking the bathroom, "Shower."

"Damn," she sighed before shrugging, "It's not as if I haven't slept on you before."

He nodded back absently before tilting his head to her, "You want the shower first?"

"I'm fine," she smiled, holding up her wand as he frowned back. "Ahh, such a curse." She chuckled back as he sighed and walked to the bathroom, changing into sweatpants and a long sleeved shirt while he was in there before frowning and biting her lip down at her phone. She warily checked the door before holding her phone up to her head.

"Hey, Hermione. It's Sam. I know you probably have about fifteen messages from me by now. You're probably bound to get more. I'm still really worried about you. This is still the only way you can talk to me right now. We really need you to get better, okay? Please?" She sighed and set her phone down, smiling a little at the screen. Sometimes, he made it extremely difficult to say 'no' to. She wondered if he knew that.

She practically threw her phone into her bag before throwing that at the wall when he stepped out, running a towel over his hair before pulling out and grinning at her when she snorted, as it stuck up in every place possible, and even he was now dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt.

Ever since Hermione began hunting with the boys, packing wasn't a big deal, as Hermione had modified their bags to hold clothing and small things, like her bag did, only theirs were like bracelets. Putting symbols up wasn't a big deal either, as she would just wave her wand and have the whole room covered with them. It saved them from having to make a speedy getaway from any angry motel owners.

"Hey, don't laugh, I've seen your hair in the morning," he warned with a grin before flopping next to her, "Got a brush?"

"Not like I can just conjure one out of thin air or anything," she said, rolling her eyes and handing one to him, making him grin and begin to run it through his hair. "You talked to Dean lately?"

"Yeah, before I got in," he answered, "He called me a lazy ass."

"He lied," she soothed, making him smile and hand the brush back to her, watching as she sent it away with a wave of her hand. Truth be told, he'd always been rather intrigued by magic that didn't try to kill him. Having Hermione as a friend gave him an opportunity to learn more about it.

"Asked how you were and if you'd overdosed yet," he said, making her snort and grin at him. "I said I would have to check on the last one."

"How many more hours do we have left?" she asked.

"Erm – I want to say thirteen."

She groaned and flopped back, bouncing the bed as he laughed at her. "Please oh please oh please let me Apparate us," she begged, her voice muffled through the pillow. He laughed again and pulled her up into his lap, holding her wrists in one hand and pulling the pillow away with the other, grinning down at her.

"We'll be fine," he promised before his grin faltered, as it appeared that all he could focus on was how close he'd pulled her and what her lips looked like and how nice she smelled. She was looking up at him innocently, all doe eyed, and he cleared his throat and brought the grin back. "Sleep?" Great, he'd just turned into the one-word-per-sentence caveman.

She sighed and took the pillow back, shoving away from him and flopping back on the bed with a pout, holding the pillow to her chest as he rolled his eyes and slipped under the covers. It seemed like a good thing he'd said that, because if she was that close to him for much longer…. She shook her head and put the pillow back in place, shifting under the blankets before hugging the pillow and shutting her eyes. "Night, Sam," she called softly.

She heard him yawn, "Night, 'Ermione." She smiled a little and let him fall asleep, desperately wishing she could do the same. She kept her eyes shut and tried counting sheep and even Kneazles, but it appeared that nothing would work. She finally opened her eyes when something settled on her waist, just above her hip, and blinked when she noticed that Sam had his arm tossed carelessly over her, although he was practically dead to the world. She smiled a little at him and watched him. He seemed far calmer when he was asleep and he didn't snore like Dean (she'd been forced to spend the night in the Impala with him once. It was extremely unpleasant and she didn't ever want to repeat it.) His hair began to fall over his face, and she gently moved it aside before returning her hands back to wrapping around her pillow. Soon, she matched his steady breathing, and was off as well.

When Sam woke up, it was because he had a desperate urge to sneeze. He fought against it and won, blinking blearily around him before he moved and saw that he'd buried his face into Hermione's hair while he'd slept. He smiled a little when he noticed that she had her arms wrapped around him and her head against his chest, and that he had done almost the same. Their legs were tangled together with each other's and the sheets, but he was quite comfortable, even with his other arm pinned underneath Hermione. She was far more entertaining in her sleep than she was when she was in a coma, her eyebrows moving slightly and her mouth twitching every so often. She opened her eyes and blinked at him before closing them and scrunching her nose and burying her face into his chest and mumbling out "Noooo, it can't be morning." He chuckled, because this was absolutely entertaining and – to be honest – adorable.

"Come on," he said softly, running his hands through her hair so it wouldn't be that bad when she finally got up, "We have a very busy day of driving to do."

"I hate car trips," she muttered, scrunching up the back of his t-shirt.

"Then why do you hang out with us?" he asked in amusement.

"Because we usually stop and kick ass along the way," she hummed before sighing and pulling her face out of his chest, blinking at their legs and blushing a little. "My mum always called me a spider monkey when I was little. I never understood why. I guess now I do."

"Partially my fault," he said as he sat up, pulling his legs away from hers and immediately missing the warmth. Apparently she did too, because she groaned and curled in on herself with the blankets around her. He stretched a little before watching her as she cursed the morning and how terrible it was. He wondered if she did this every morning, or if he was just special, or if it was possibly because of her medication.

They fought good-naturedly over the sink when brushing their teeth, Hermione making a muffled scream when Sam easily picked her up with one arm and set her inside the shower before shutting the glass door with his foot and keeping it shut, grinning when saw Hermione spit at the glass in the mirror and frown at him beyond the toothpaste and spit sliding down the glass. When he let her out, he'd given her a 'sorry-not-sorry' grin and she'd sighed and rinsed her toothbrush and got rid of the mess she'd made before they took turns changing. Hermione waved her wand and got rid of the marks she'd made as she put on her bag-choker-thing while Sam talked to Dean.

And then once again they were on the road. And Hermione once again begged to be allowed to Apparate the two of them to Bobby's, but Sam stated that he could totally make it in one drive with enough coffee. She wondered if she could Apparate the rental car while he drove before deciding that would be extremely dangerous. So she texted Dean the next time they stopped for gas and asked if there was any way to make Sam cave, and Dean had texted back:

If there's anyone in the world who would know how to make Sam cave, it'd be you, Glenda. Figure it out yourself.

Confused by what that meant, she sighed and muttered that he was utterly useless while Sam slid back into place, holding out a soda for her this time. He glanced at her phone and his eyes seemed to widen for a moment before he clicked his seatbelt into place.

"You checked in on Dean?" he asked.

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek before lying, "Nah, phone's dead."

He hummed and changed the subject. She kept her phone completely silent and was so very thankful that she had the power to do that, because every time she glanced down she would see that Dean had texted her back numerous times.

Somewhere around five, it started raining. Somewhere around five-fifty, it started pouring. Somewhere around six-fifteen, the rental car had broken down. Hermione and Sam both stared down at the engine while getting soaked before Hermione sighed and slammed the hood down.

"You know," she said over the sound of the rain, "It's at times like this when I really wish I knew a thing or two about cars besides how to change oil and tires."

"What, you can't put gas in it?" Sam teased back, making her swat at him before they went back to their seats, Hermione drying them off as they sat in the car. "I know how to fix the Impala when it's down, but I have no idea about this one."

"So we're stuck?" she asked.

"Yup," he sighed with her.

"Should've let me Apparate," she sang under her breath, making him frown and roll his eyes at her as he began to dig around in his pocket for his phone. He grimaced when he saw that it was dead, sighing and setting it up on the dash with a frown while Hermione debated letting him know hers worked. If she did though, then he would know that she checked her messages, and then he would know that she knew, and then they would have to talk about it. So, she opted for the less awkward option of sitting in the car with him in the pouring down rain until help came or the car miraculously started to work again.

Apparently Sam wasn't having that though, because his mouth pressed into a very thin line and his hands gripped the steering wheel so hard that his knuckles turned white before he asked, "You checked your voicemail, didn't you?"

She blinked at him before nodding slowly. Sam took a deep breath and let it out slowly before nodding once and then promptly opening the door and stepping out into the rain. She blinked back and opened her door, jogging over to him as he leaned against the side of the car and tilted his head up to the sky, glancing down at her when she stared up at him and looked at him curiously.

"I never should've said that," he began, "But I thought you were dying, and I thought nobody would ever check your messages, and I just had to have somebody or something listen, to know that I'd felt like that, because – hey, I kind of tried, right? But then you woke up, and I'm not saying that I'm upset that you did, but you woke up and I had no way I taking it back."

"Do you want to?" she asked.

"What?" he questioned, looking down at her.

"Take it back," she stated, "Because you can. I'll forget all about it if you want. I'll just go on like I always have."

He stared at her for a few moments before asking, "Do you want me to?"

She bit her lip before shaking her head slowly, for fear of having her wet hair stick to her face. Sam watched her carefully for a moment before grinning back at her, taking a step closer and towering over her.

"Oh, please don't," she grimaced, making him blink and look as though he was a puppy she'd just kicked. "I don't want to be all cliché-y and kiss in the rain. I mean, I'm sure it'd be nice and everything, but – mmf!" She didn't know how Sam would kiss her, and frankly had never really entertained the notion long enough to wonder, but she found herself standing on her toes to meet him, forgetting very quickly that it was terribly cliché-y and that she was quite cold and wet and her sweater seemed to be very determined to take her down. When he'd pulled back with a massive grin on his face, she'd rocked back on her heels and blinked before smiling back up at him.

He'd opened the door to the backseat and pulled her in with him, happily running his fingers through her damp curls for some time and pecking her now and again as she leaned against him and sighed before suddenly remembering.

"Oh," she blinked, pulling away a little as he blinked back, "My phone isn't really dead. I can call a tow."

"Ehh," he grinned after a moment, "We'll say it was dead and that we found the charger in the morning." She chuckled and kissed him once again, being pulled up and into his lap. They spent the night like that, talking and curled against each other and kissing every once in a while. When Hermione grabbed her phone to check the battery as Sam went to check the engine, she blinked at all of the voicemails she got.

"Hey, so, you haven't checked in and you won't answer my texts, and neither will Sammy," Dean pointed out, "Also, why did you ask how to make him cave? I'm curious, lady. Call me back."

"Okay, it is like three in the morning and you still haven't called," Dean stated irritably, "What's up? Call me back, Glenda."

"Okay, it's four, and you better damn well hope you got attacked by a bear or something. Because I'm freaking out. If you two are cuddled up in the backseat I'm going to kick both of your asses."

"I am NOT taking care of babies, Granger! Call me, dammit!"

By the time Sam came back around to inform Hermione than the engine had somehow been fixed, he'd found her laughing and holding out the phone for him to listen. He listened to them all, his smile getting wider and wider each time, and he was nearly laughing before Dean called. He grinned and answered, sitting in the floor of the back of the car with Hermione as she played with his hair.

"Where the fuck are you two!? Why didn't you call? I thought you were in a ditch in who knows which state!" Dean exclaimed. "I swear to God, Glenda – "

"Cool it," Sam grinned up at Hermione as she pecked his head, "Our phones died. We just now found the charger. Also, the rental car broke down."

"Oh," Dean said smartly before sounding rather wicked, "Did you two spend the night in the backseat?"

"Maybe," he hummed, smiling lazily up at Hermione as he tugged on a curl. "Although, probably not in the way you're thinking."

"Am I close?" he questioned.

Sam was silent for a moment, as Hermione had gained his attention (and quite possibly his mouth) for that amount of time, and he let out a happy sigh and smiled up at her again, "Ehhh…maybe."

"Hmm," Dean sounded rather smug, "Bobby owes me twenty bucks then. Take your time."

"We will," he answered before he hung up.

"How's the engine?" she asked.

"It should be fixed in a while," he lied, "Water damage."

"Oh no," she said with a grin, playing along.

He grinned back, turning around to properly kiss her. Perhaps it wasn't so bad that he'd sent that voicemail. At least, until the bill came in, anyway.

Ta-da! Well, that's it, that's the end! Don't worry though – I'll be sure to start more crossovers soon!

Love,

Ava