Title: Interview with Sam Winchester
Characters: Sam Winchester and one OC
Spoilers: It helps to have watched episodes from season 5
Summary: Sam Winchester is interviewed
Beta: Suz Mc
Word count: 1837
Prompt: Dean was interviewed (the fic was written as a challenge for SPNland at LiveJournal.) This fic was written to go along with it, though not for SPNland.
Interview with Sam Winchester
After I had the pleasure of interviewing Dean Winchester, I felt the picture wouldn't be complete until or unless I could speak with his brother, Sam. I put in the request, not entirely sure it would be approved or accepted, so I was pleased when I got the word my interview with Sam was set for a couple days hence.
We agreed to meet at, of all places, the local library. From what I had previously learned of Sam, it shouldn't have surprised me. When I walked in, I saw him already sitting at a table off in one corner. When I approached him, he rose from his chair and, like his brother before him, made sure I was seated and comfortable before he sat down again. When I extended a hand, he took it within one of his large ones, engulfing it. I'd never felt particularly petite before, but next to his 6'4" muscular frame, I felt delicate and tiny. It was a strange sensation, and yet, I loved it!
He leaned forward and smiled at me before saying softly, "I'm not exactly sure what there is of interest to interview me about, but I'm here. I, uh, heard you spoke to my brother."
I met his gaze with my own, and what I'd heard about Sam was true. He had a decidedly adorable puppy dog look in his smoky-hazel eyes that was very disarming and sweet. "Yes, I did, last week. We didn't have the chance to discuss you much, though, which is another reason why I wanted to speak with you."
He grinned, bringing the adorable dimples in his cheeks into prominence. "It wouldn't surprise me if my brother made a move on you." I can imagine my facial expression gave him the answer he expected. He laughed. "That's my brother." I knew my face was red, and it only got worse when Sam asked, "Was he successful?"
I gave up all hope that the interview would be any more professional than the one I'd had with Dean. The Winchester men knew how to get to a woman, so I gave up and decided to roll with it. I grinned at Sam and said, my voice suddenly lower and huskier than it normally was, "I don't know. My interview with you isn't over with yet, is it?" God! I couldn't believe I'd just said that! I gave myself a silent smackdown, but when Sam threw his head back and gave a full-throated laugh, I knew I was toast.
After he'd composed himself, Sam shook his head and said, "I don't know, but I don't think being interviewed will be as bad as I thought it'd be."
I chuckled and after a halfway successful attempt to get my mind back on track, I opened my notebook and asked him, "Do you mind if I ask you some questions that Dean didn't want to answer?"
Sam didn't reply immediately. He scratched the side of his note absently then said, "Like what?"
I didn't want to take the chance he'd clam up like Dean had, but I also hoped he'd be a little more open. "Can you talk a little bit about the relationship you have with Dean? I know you're close--"
He leaned back in his chair, his long legs straight out and ankles crossed. He began to tap rhythmically against the leg of the table with the side of one of his boots. "Yeah, we're close. We pretty much have been all our lives. Dean's been more of a father to me than our dad was. Dean's four years older than I am, and from the age of eight or so, he often had care of me when our dad was out of town."
"--died when I was a baby. It hit dad hard, and he wasn't around a lot, so yeah, Dean had to grow up fast, y'know? He complains a lot about always having to look out for his pain-in-the-ass little brother, but I don't think he'd have it any other way." Sam smiled a moment then it faded into a blend of remorse and resignation. "I'm not so sure he still feels that way."
"How is that?" I asked, my voice soft and filled with concern. I knew what I'd heard about the brothers, that there had been a crack in their closeness, but I wanted to hear about it from Sam's point of view. "Can you tell me what happened?"
"Dean wouldn't talk about it with you, would he?" Sam asked. When I shook my head, he shrugged and said, "He wouldn't. He doesn't like to discuss it with me, either." He pushed a fringe of hair that had been flirting with his eyelashes back from his face, and for a moment, he wouldn't look at me. I waited patiently, until he sighed and continued.
"I won't go into details, ok? But a lot has happened the last year or so, and he and I have made some wrong decisions that have had some life-altering results, not just between us but for others as well. We have issues with each other and it created a...well...a rift between us. We just need time to work through it. We've started, but, well...it'll take time."
I nodded, and noting how uncomfortable the subject made him, I moved on to another question. "I know about what the two of you do: traveling around the country, helping people and investigating the paranormal--"
"--along with other stuff," Sam finished. "It's something we've done all our lives, well, except the time I was in college, but yeah, we've considered it our family business."
I leaned my chin on my clasped hands, my elbows in front of me on the table. "Is it something you plan to continue doing from now on, or do you see yourself stopping at some point, and maybe settling down with a family?"
"You asked Dean that question, didn't you?" Sam asked, shifting position in his chair. He leaned forward, and like me, rested his weight on his arms.
"Did he answer?"
"Yes. That's why I wanted to get your response. Do you see a family in your future, Sam?"
He was silent a few moments, and then sighed and said, his voice low, "I honestly don't know. Do I want a family of my own? Yes, very much so. I'd made plans to get married back when I was at Stanford. I was about to get engaged--" here his voice grew husky and I noted how his eyes started to glisten with emotion. "--but things happened and plans got changed. I'm not the same man I was back then and what I want for my life doesn't matter compared to what others need. The needs of the many over the wants of the one, and all that. I don't know what my life will bring. There's so much going on, and...and I can't make plans."
He sighed and turned his head to look away. I studied his profile—the sharp angles of his jawline, the way the tip of his nose came to a rounded point, and the mole decorating the upper curve of his left cheek at the side of his nose. I wanted to reach out and cover his hands with mine, but I sensed the gesture wouldn't be welcomed. Instead, I sat there and gave him time to gather himself, and when he'd done so, he looked at me and gave me a gentle smile.
"Sorry. Dean hates what he calls 'chick-flick' moments. I'm beginning to see his side of it."
I grinned back and allowed the charged moment to fade away. I commented, "Dean mentioned something about practical jokes the two of you have played on one another. Care to share one or two of them?"
Sam chuckled and leaned back in his chair once more. "Oh, we've definitely come up with a few good ones over the years."
"Well, let's see. Once I hid a dead fish in his car and it took three days for Dean to find it. I've used a stink bomb a time or two to gas the car as well. Once, I super-glued his beer bottle, and when he picked it up, it stuck to his hand."
"You didn't!" I gaped at him.
"I did. It was actually one of my better pranks." He grinned and chuckled softly. "Oh, but he's gotten me back, sometimes not on purpose, but the result was just the same."
"What happened?" I asked, completely engrossed.
"Well, I learned not to leave him alone with my computer. We share my laptop when we use it for research, but there's been more than once I've returned from one errand or another to find he'd frozen my computer on, well..."
"On what, Sam?"
He hesitated a moment, then said, his cheeks flushing slightly, "...on porn sites. He has a favorite one."
I leaned back in my seat and giggled until tears streamed down my face. "Oh, God...what else?"
Sam joined me in laughing about it as he regaled me with a few more recollections of gags, (unprintable unfortunately) that Dean had managed to inflict on Sam.
I have siblings. I took notes.
Just as I was going to ask him another question, his cell phone vibrated. Excusing himself, he checked the view screen and seeing that it was a call he needed to take, answered the call. I tried not to listen in, but I overheard just enough to catch the name of the caller. Apparently, it was his good friend, and from all accounts, his father-figure, Bobby Singer.
The call didn't last long, and when he'd ended it and placed the phone back on the table, Sam looked at me, his face a study in regret. "I'm sorry, but I need to leave. I'm willing to continue this another time, if you want."
I did want, and told him so.
"Great! I'll call you when I get free, ok?" Sam asked and when I agreed, we exchanged contact information. When we rose from out seats, Sam assisted me up with a hand at my elbow. I have to admit I was impressed with the gentlemanly manners both showed me. He walked with me out to my car, and when he opened my door for me, I couldn't resist commenting to him how mannerly he was. He grinned and said, "Thank my dad and Dean for that. I was raised to honor women and show them the respect they deserve. It's habit for me, but an easy one."
We said our goodbyes then Sam got into his car and, giving me a final wave, drove off. I stood and watched, and I realized how much I had come to like these men, the Winchester brothers. I hope I have a chance to spend more time in their company. I'd consider myself a fortunate woman.