Title: One of Them
Summary: Soulless Sam attempts to bond with Christian, Mark, and Gwen one evening after a job.
Rating: T, for the overall theme
Disclaimer: 'Supernatural' was created by Eric Kripke. No disrespect is intended.


"Oh, man, look at that!" Christian slapped Mark on the arm and pointed. "Son of a…."

Sam turned his head, gaze slipping past the crowd of locals to the bar at the back of the room. Gwen was there, waiting for a beer. She looked out of place among the rough crowd of mostly men, cleaner and more attractive than any of the women present.

Prey, a small voice in his head announced. These men see her as easy prey. Small woman, stranger in the area, no ties to anyone they know. Prey. He could see it in their glances, the way their eyes flicked along her.

Two men stood beside her, both taller and far heavier than she was. Even with a weapon and the determination Sam knew she had inside her, she wouldn't be able to overpower them. They would use her if they could. One was sliding his fingers up and down her bare arm, the other pressing closer, trying to sandwich her between them.

"She's just looking for trouble." Christian's voice held disgust.

Sam cast an inquiring glance his way. "Looking for trouble?" He didn't know any of them very well yet, trying to find some way to fit in and not stand out. He needed to fit in. It was what Samuel had told him. Try to fit in.

"Fifty says they carry her out of here over their shoulders for some rough love in the parking lot."

Mark nodded and swirled the liquid in his glass. He'd ordered a Jack and Coke instead of beer.

"Gwen's into that?" Sam returned his attention to Gwen. He hadn't pegged her as the type to like it that way. Perhaps he was wrong. He frowned. She hardly seemed interested in either man, jerking away, her expression annoyed when she turned her head. He squinted a little, attempting to read her lips, wondering what she was saying as it seemed to piss them off.

Christian laughed. "No, no. Not what I meant. You're too literal sometimes."

Not the first time he'd heard that recently. Maybe he should work on that. Somehow. "I guess."

"This there," Christian pointed, "is why we usually leave her back in the motel."

An agreeing nod from Mark. He had yet to say anything since ordering his drink.

"She's not into that?"

"Hardly." Christian leaned over a little. "Those two over there? Not her type. Gwen likes guys she can throw against a wall and have her way with them, not the other way around. Those two, however, are the type she tends to attract when she comes with us." He cracked his knuckles. "Prepare yourself, Sam. We'll need to give them a beat-down later."

He studied the two men, assessed them, memorized their faces. "I'm always prepared."

"That you are, my friend. That you are."

Gwen finally got her beer and extricated herself from the two, expression shifting to outrage when one slapped a hand on her rear, his "catch you later, vixen", ringing the bar. She stepped to the table, slammed her bottle down, and directed an angry glare at Christian.

"What…vixen?" His little smirk was taunting.

"You do this on purpose," she accused. "Don't think I don't know what you're trying to do."

He made a scoffing noise, spread his arms, and glanced at Sam and Mark with an insincere confused frown. "Do what?"

"This." She sat down, a finger twirling to indicate the entire room. "Pick the nastiest, most disgusting dive in the area so I'll stay at the motel like a little girl."

"You are a girl, Gwen, and you didn't have to come out with us."

"Sam invited me," she snapped and took a long swallow from her beer.

He'd invited her in an attempt to fit in. He'd seen Christian invite others out with them, so he'd done the same. She'd been surprised and pleased with the invitation. Apparently inviting Gwen along wasn't the thing to do. Confusing. He seemed to be doing all the wrong things. How was he supposed to fit in?

"Yeah, well Sam didn't know what a rapist magnet you are."

"Sam has manners, unlike you two jerks." She indicated Mark and Christian with her bottle. "And there wouldn't be any problems if you wouldn't pick places like this. I know what you're doing, Christian, and you can't convince me that this is a 'men only' profession."

Mark smiled a little and sipped his drink.

"Girls don't belong in the field, period. If you don't like this, then stay home with the other women. Quit trying to tag along. I told Samuel you shouldn't be out in the field with us. You should be at home, filling the rounds and doing the research."

"Chauvinist pig," she told him. "How dare you tell Samuel anything of the sort? I can out shoot you any day." She shook her head and drank another long swallow. "You're such a freakin' pig."

The shooting was actually true. Sam had witnessed the two practicing and Gwen had a better eye than Christian did, though to hear Christian tell it, it was luck on her part.

"Proudly. It's hard to do a job if we have to protect the girls and newsflash, you're a girl, Gwennie."

Sam had noticed Christian called her that whenever he wanted to really dig at her and rile her up. He seemed to enjoy making Gwen mad.

"Don't call me that."

"A girl? It's the truth."

"Just because I'm a girl, doesn't mean I need protection. I can do this job."

"It's exactly what it means, right Sam?"

He wasn't sure the best way to answer. Should he answer? What would get him the most acceptance among them?

Christian continued. "We protect our women."

She rolled her eyes. "You are such a pain in the ass, Christian. I don't know how Arlene puts up with you."

They continued to bicker and Sam let his attention stray about the bar. The two men who'd been rubbing up on Gwen were heading for the door. Christian's words came back to him. We'll need to give them a beat-down later. It was later, right? He looked to Mark and Christian, but they didn't notice the two leaving. Why weren't they paying attention? They were going to give them a beat-down. Christian had said so.

Well, he'd have to take care of it himself then.

"I'll be back," he told them and pushed his chair back. Gwen and Christian were arguing fast and furious now, Gwen becoming flushed and Christian baiting her with nearly every word he spoke. Mark remained silent, observing and drinking his drink.

Sam made his way through the crowd, checked to see if anyone was watching, and left.

He returned to the bar awhile later, slipping through the crowd and into the restroom. He held his hands under cold water, ignoring the sting of it against the fresh abrasions, and watched the blood swirl down the drain. There was a lot of blood, most of it not his own. When he was done, he blotted his hands with a paper towel, then stared a moment at his scraped, already swelling knuckles.

Wasn't he supposed to be feeling something right now? Remorse? Sadness?

All he felt was satisfaction that he'd accomplished what Christian had said they would do and without Christian and Mark. He'd done it. Him.

He checked his clothes and face for any blood he'd missed and finished cleaning up the traces.

With a small smile, Sam stopped at the bar for a refill and, like he'd seen others in the bar doing for the women there, he got a refill for Gwen as well. He returned to the table.

"Samuel agrees," Christian was saying.

"Here," Sam set the bottle in front of Gwen.

She smiled. "Thank you, Sam. Like I said before, you're the only man at this table with manners." She took a long drink before returning her attention to Christian. "I'm a grown woman. I can handle myself."

Christian snorted. "Right. Like you could have handled yourself if those two had grabbed you and carried you off to the parking lot. You would have been so screwed in so many ways -"

Mark cleared his throat. "Doesn't matter. They're gone." When Christian and Gwen stared at him, he raised his glass at Sam like a toast and drank the last swallow.

Sam lifted his bottle and repeated the gesture.

Gwen's lips parted. "Sam…your hand…. You…?"

A slow grin tugged Christian's lips. "Did you…?"

"They won't be bothering Gwen anytime soon," he replied coolly.

From outside came a scream and the door banged open. "Someone call 911!"

"I think it's time to go," Mark suggested.

They followed the crowd out into the parking lot. Sam couldn't help another little smile at the very bloody, very beat-up men lying prostrate and still in the gravel. They weren't dead, but it'd be a long time before they needed another beat-down from anyone.

"You're a little…different, but," Gwen slid her arm through his to walk side by side with him to the car, "I think I like you, Sam."

He wondered if he should say it back and chanced it. "I like you too, Gwen."

At the car, Christian jerked a thumb towards the fast emptying scene. They weren't the only ones not too keen on being there when police and ambulance got there. It looked like the whole bar was fleeing. "Nice one, Sam. Couldn't have done it better myself."

Mark nodded.

Sam cocked his head. "Thank you."

He was one of them now. Part of the family.

Mission accomplished.