The Adventures of Dean and… Samantha?

I do not own anything you recognize…

This kind of came to me while writing a paper on the death penalty – go figure. Lol. Hope no one else has used it before. :)

And I'm only going to add Samantha in this episode, so it'll be an OneShot. Just a 'what if'… you know 'thought food'.



John and Mary Winchester had two beautiful children when Mary died. Dean Winchester and Samantha Winchester. A son and a daughter, perfect balance.

Both were thrown into hunting. Then Samantha left for Stanford. For law school. For normal.

John and Dean went to the ground after that. They still hunted – but separately. Until John went missing.

And Dean showed up at Samantha's apartment. Her boyfriend, Michael, almost knocked Dean's head straight off. Apparently, Sammy had been showing her boyfriend a few moves. And Dean hadn't expected that.

"Michael," Samantha asked as she came in the kitchen of her and her boyfriend's apartment. She switched on the light, illuminating the two wrestling males. "Baby?"

"Call the police, Sam," Michael instructed. "Someone broke in." And as a show of muscles, Michael pushed Dean farther into the floorboard.

"Samantha," Dean said in the tone that meant business. "Get you're play toy off of me before I whip his ass!" And as a show of dominance, Dean flipped the pair of men, pushing dangerously on Michael's airway.

"Get off him, Dean," Samantha whispered harshly before pulling her brother off her lover. "And he's my boyfriend not a play toy."

Dean stood up, brushed himself off, and glanced at Michael. "I would have never guessed. You're way out of his league."

Samantha rolled her eyes before leaning into the now standing Michael's chest. "Michael," Samantha introduced. "This is my brother Dean. Dean, this is Michael."

"Mike," Mike said and stuck his hand out for Dean.

Dean grasped the hand and gave a little too stiff handshake. "The bigger, stronger, older brother."

Mike took the hint and dropped back a little.

"What are you here for Dean-o," Sam asked as she pulled away from her boyfriend and went to the fridge to grab a Red Bull. She tossed Michael and Dean a beer before taking a spot at the table. Michael grabbed the seat next to her and Dean got the one across from them.

"We need to talk… about family issues," Dean said.

"Spill," Samantha said before taking a sip of the energy drink.

"Dad's gone hunting."

"He'll come back sooner or later."

"He's gone hunting and he hasn't been back in two weeks." Dean was heavily laying on the code talk.

"He's been on trips as long as two months, Dean. I'm sure he's fine."

"I haven't heard from him in two weeks, Sammy. That's the problem."

Sam cleared her throat. "Mike," she said in a super-sweet tone. "Could you excuse us? We need to have a little chat." Samantha didn't wait for her boyfriend's answer. She grabbed Dean's arm and dragged him out of the apartment. "What the hell, Dean," she asked. "You jump in here and expect me to jump on a hunt?"

Dean was ignoring her rant. Instead he commented, "I don't like your Smurf shirt."

Samantha rolled her eyes before grabbing Dean by the arm and dragging him into the ally behind the apartment. "I knew you parked here," she said.

"Uh- How?" He asked as Sam continued pulling him toward the Impala.

"I saw you watching me last month. You really need to work on hiding yourself better."

Dean tightened his jaw before shooting daggers at his sister. He quickly opened the 1967 Impala's trunk and punched in the familiar code to their… err… his weapon's locker.

"Here," Dean said as he played some voice recording. It was obviously their father's.


"Like riding a bike, baby," Dean said with a smirk.

Before he could hit play on the recorder, Sam grabbed his hand and made sure he listened. "Call me by my high school nickname one more time and your insides will be on the wall behind you."

Dean's eyes widened a little before looking down and pressing play.

EVP came through the speaker. It was a woman's voice.

"What'd you come up with," Sam asked Dean, now intrigued.

"That's my girl," the brother said with a smirk. "Jump right on the hunting wagon."

"Shove it, Dean. Did you research anything?"

"All of it," Dean said, taking out a bulging mellow envelope. Samantha started to read it. "Read and smile, Sam. Your job is now easy."

Sam sighed. "You just made it harder."

"What? Why," Dean asked, trying to read over Samantha's shoulder.

"Everything's out of date; no reason for a ghost; nothing suspicious in the town except… whoa."

"What," Dean demanded, now feeling inferior.

"That," Sam said as she pointed to an almost transparent woman in a picture. Obviously, the lady wasn't supposed to be there. "It's…"

"A spirit. Think it needs hunting?"

"Ask me if the ice cream man sells ice cream," she said. Dean looked at her funny. "Of course!!"

"Oh," he responded and followed her inside her apartment.

Ten minutes later, Samantha was packing her bag as Dean sat patiently… well, not really… in the living room.

"Where are you going," Michael asked her for the hundredth time.

"Dean and I have to track Dad down. I'll be back," she answered as she put some clothes in her duffle. She pecked Mike on the mouth and tried to go back to her closet, but Mike grabbed her arms and pulled her to him.

"When are you coming back?"

"By Sunday, baby," she said and melted into his chest. "Promised."

"You have that-"

"I know."

"As long as you-"

"I know."

"Ya know what?"


"You should know."

"Michael!" She pushed away from him a little but still remained in his arms. Playfully, she slapped him on the chest, but he caught her hand just in time. He pulled her closer and kissed her

Dean cleared his throat of the doorway. "Plenty of time for that," Dean said while watching Mike intently. "After we find Dad."

Sam rolled her eyes but complied by finishing packing her bag. She kissed Michael one more time and walked out the door with Dean trailing behind.

Michael watched from the window as Sam got in the car with her brother and drove away. He sighed and opened the little ring case he had bought last week. It would have to wait.

Michael turned around to head back to bed.

And came face to face with the demon.

Three days later, with a successful kill under their belt and new knowledge (their father was officially missing), Sam returned home with Dean.

"Thanks, dude," she said as she hopped out of the car.

Dean met her at the trunk before getting her duffle. "Next time, pack lighter."

Sam shot him a look and held back a small grin. "A ten pound bag is not heavy. Last time I checked, your hair supplies weighed ten pounds."

"Gotta look good for the ladies." He smirked before getting serious. "Watch your back."

"You too, Win-witch."

"Honey, you're-"

"What'd I say about the nicknames?"

Dean grumbled something about little sisters before getting back in his car and driving off.

Sam watched him go and turned to her apartment. She climbed the stairs, entered her pad, and scanned the place. Nothing.

So Mike must have been asleep. Sam walked into their bedroom. He wasn't there.

Maybe he had an all-nighter at a friend's. Okay, that was reasonable.

Samantha sighed and plopped on the bed she shared with Michael. Her eyes were already closed before she took another breath.

It had been a long hunt – with Dean almost getting 'taken home' by that darned woman in white. Sam had shown up just in time to shoot the thing, giving Dean the upper advantage. He had plowed right into the house. And the woman in white was officially home – but with a cost. Dean's car had gotten scratched. Sam had bore into him about taking care of the 'Baby' as she had dubbed it. Baby was fragile. Dean agreed, but not to the extent that Sam did.

Drop. Drop.

What was that? Samantha opened her eyes to find her lover pinned on the ceiling, bleeding from the abdomen. She cried out and the flames started.

Sam doesn't remember much else, because the next thing she knows, she's outside, standing next to Dean, watching flames engulf her boyfriend and home.

Sam walked around to the trunk, opened the locker, and inspected Dean's favorite gun. Dean stood next to her.

"You ready," he asked.

Sam tossed the gun back in the weapons locker. "Ready," she answered and slammed the trunk shut.