Title: What Can Hurt You
Disclaimer: I have never owned a television show in my life. That includes both Supernatural and Dark Angel.
Summary: Alec assumes their biggest problem is finding The Demon. Sam doesn’t have the heart to tell him he’s wrong.
Series: Finale for the What Comes Around ‘Verse. Sequel to What You Dream About.
Author’s Note: Major props go out to
What Comes Around 1 | 2
What You See
What You Dream About
What Can Hurt You 1 | 2
What Can Hurt You
Max and Alec haul the unconscious familiar into the room Logan had set up and chain him to a chair. Logan is the only one in the room who seems as uncomfortable with the set-up as Sam does. Alec and Max are all business, but Sam has this tickle in the back of his mind screaming that this is not right.
Familiars are humans, he realizes for the first time. With all the talk of White’s unspeakable evil and superhuman powers, he’s never made the connection before, but familiars are human. Looking at Max’s face, Sam believes she’s willing to kill him. He doubts she’ll regret it for a second.
“We found him in the sewers,” Max says, “planting C-4 under psy-ops.”
“That doesn’t see particularly smart,” Logan says, “Someone in psy-ops would have figure it out before the charge blew.”
“Why target just the psychics?” Sam asks. It’s one of the hundred minute details that don’t quite add up. “I mean first the fire, now the bomb…”
“The fire was a freak thing,” Max snaps.
Logan has a strangled look on his face. Sam tries not to look at him.
“Hate to interrupt,” Alec says, all business, “but our friend here is waking up.”
Sam stares at the Familiar, trying to pick out some sign, something to tell him that he isn’t human, that he is something evil, something to be fought, exterminated. He always hates the ones that looked human because he can’t help but think they can be saved. The Familiar’s eyes are blue. Not black, not yellow, blue and human and filled with rage.
“Who sent you?” Max asks.
“White,” the Familiar answers, but he’s smirking.
Sam doesn’t know why, but he’s immediately sure it’s a lie. Max, Alec and Logan on the other hand, take it at face value.
“What was the objective?”
“Destruction,” the Familiar snarls. “The less transgenics in this world the better.”
A vein twitches in Max’s temple. She clenches her fists. He’s goading her, Sam realizes, the more wound up Max gets, the more likely she is to kill him before he can talk. It’s Dean’s old interrogation deterrent, reckless and stupid but generally effective.
“What is the Coming?” Sam asks and a second later all eyes are on him.
“This one’s dangerous,” the Familiar says, staring at Sam. “You really trust him?”
“More than I trust you,” snaps Alec.
“What is the Coming?” Sam repeats.
“It’s your grave,” the Familiar says, “you and the rest of the vermin.”
“Could you be any more cliché?” Max asks.
“This Coming,” Sam says, “when is it happening?”
“It has already begun,” says the Familiar. “Your kind shall bow down before their rightful superiors… And you, Max, will be the first to fall.”
“Threaten her again,” Logan says, eyes blazing behind his glasses, “and I’ll kill you myself.”
Alec shoots a bewildered looks towards Logan and then his eyes narrow in accusation, but Sam hardly notices, the pieces of the puzzle swim before him just out of reach. There’s always something written down about an apocalypse. The end of the world doesn’t just come without warning, there are always signs.
Even the Yellow Eyed Demon leaves signs if you look hard enough.
And the signs are the key, not the target group. Anomalies in the normal pattern, like fires burning up in nurseries, like White on the videotape disappearing without a trace, weather anomalies…
Like the meteor shower he’d seen last night.
“Sam,” Alec whispers, betrayed. “You didn’t tell…”
“I figured it out,” Sam says.
Back in Terminal City’s computer lab, Sam’s hands fly over the keyboard of Logan’s laptop. A weather site, meteor showers all week long, visible as long as it isn’t pouring down rain.
And that is the missing piece, the connection he’d missed. Everything else spirals into place after it, the Familiars, their unnatural strength, the snake blood, the Coming, it all slides neatly into the puzzle, and by the time it all comes together, Sam’s breathing hard and staring at the laptop in a mute sort of shock.
Behind him, he can hear Logan mutter something about protected files. “Let him,” Alec says, and Logan quiets.
When Sam finally turns around, his hands are shaking and he can hear his heart beating in his ears.
“How deep we in this time, Sammy?” Dean says. Only when Sam blinks, it’s Alec standing there and he hates the fact that he still confuses the two.
“It’s been a while since I ran across an apocalypse,” Sam says desperately trying to sound nonchalant about the whole thing because the truth is; he’s never run across an apocalypse. But if he can keep his head about this, keep from panicking, maybe he can figure a way out…
“You’re kidding, right?” Logan says. “I mean, we had a scare back in 2012, but it didn’t really amount to anything. The world’s really good about spinning.”
“The age of demons,” Sam croaks, “The Coming of the age of demons. Signs include fires, increased demonic activity, meteor showers that last for weeks. There’s talk about of a cult that lays the groundwork for the thing, nothing substantial, just a lot of hearsay and speculation.”
“The Familiars,” says Alec.
“The way I figure it, they must have made a deal with a demon. It would explain the superhuman strength. They keep it in families, the same blood oath. I’m guessing the ritual with the snake is a way of perpetuating the ties. Blood magic. I don’t know why I didn’t see it before.”
“And the Familiar with Max,” Logan asks, “is he dangerous?”
Sam rubs at his eyes. “I don’t know anymore. We need to find out how to stop this. I’ve got to get back to Dad’s journal. One of his contacts must have known something about this.”
“I can contact Sebastian,” Logan says, “He’s not an expert, but he can—”
Logan’s words are cut off mid-sentence as a deafening roar sounds from Terminal City’s alarms. “What the hell?” says Sam.
“It’s an attack!” Logan screams over the alarms and leans past Sam to pull up a program on his computer. “This is bad,” he mutters, “oh this is very bad.” He turns over his shoulder. “Alec! I need you to go find Max. Tell her the Familiars are here.”
Alec doesn’t need to be told twice. Logan turns his attention back to the screen. “Sam, I’m going to need—”
Fire explodes in his vision.
“Sam!” someone hisses in the distance, but they sound impossibly far away, like shouting down a well. “Wake up Sam!”
He’s dimly aware of an insistent pulling on his arm. He should respond, but he just wants to sleep.
“Sam!” the voice repeats, louder this time, but still hardly more than a whisper.
He doesn’t know where he is.
He cracks open an eye. There are sparks flying from the computers (destroyed, all of them). The room is falling apart, one of the crossbeams has collapsed and the entire place is coated in rubble.
“Sam,” Logan says.
His glasses are cracked. Sam is slow to respond.
“Sam,” Logan repeats. “The Familiars are coming.”
Somewhere along the way, the pulsing roars of the sirens have fallen to a dull whine.
“Escape and evade,” Logan says as if hearing his unspoken question. “We aren’t ready for a full frontal attack.”
“The Familiars are here,” Logan says. “If they find us, we don’t stand a chance.”
He pulls Sam up to his feet. “If we want to get out of this alive, we’re going to want to split up. Head back to the safe house, I’m guessing that’s where Alec will be. He’ll know what to do.”
“What about you?” Sam says. He can barely see Logan; the room is clouded with dust from the debris and Sam’s not in fighting shape.
“I’m going to find Max,” Logan answers.
Logan disappears into the haze. “I’m not leaving without her.”
Sam starts walking blindly. He doesn’t know his way around Terminal City well enough to pick his way out to safety. The entire place is coated in the same thick dust as the computer room and every so often, the flash of explosions rock the ground. For the first time in years, Sam is terrified. This isn’t demon hunting in some backwater town, this is war: small-scale, but infinitesimally more brutal than anything he’s ever faced before.
He stumbles over a fallen piece of scaffolding but doesn’t fall. Another explosion rocks the ground. He can tell it’s close. He can hear fighting somewhere near by but can’t tell which direction it’s coming from, can’t tell the good guys from the bad. A leopard dashes by on his right, only it’s dressed in fatigues and is running upright. He blinks in surprise, but the apparition (or worse, maybe it’s real) is gone in a flash.
He runs headlong into something solid. “Sam!” a voice says.
Sam looks up (and that in itself is unnerving enough) to see the face of a dog-man staring at him. He twitches his nose. “Not safe for ordinaries,” the dog man grumbles. “Find Alec. Be safe.”
“I’m trying,” mutters Sam, “I can’t see…”
“Find Alec,” says the dog-man again, guiding Sam in the right direction.
“Where?” Sam asks, but the dog-man has disappeared into the haze.
Another bomb goes off and this time when Sam stumbles, he falls hard. A pain shoots up his wrist, the same one he’d broken all those years again. He tries to stifle maniac laughter, fails. The fighting is closer now. The dull thud of fists and feet coupled with the occasional crack of a gun. Sam pushes himself up from the ground and swerves away from the battle.
“What are you doing here?” Max calls and she’s suddenly there, right in front of him, materializing like an angel from the gloom. “You’re going to get yourself killed.”
“Logan’s looking for you,” Sam slurs.
Max’s expression changes from irritation to worry in an instant. “He’s here? He’s supposed to leave if things get bad.”
“He wouldn’t go without you,” Sam says.
“He knows I can take care of myself.”
“But he loves you,” Sam says, surprised she can’t see Logan’s reasons immediately. “He needs to know you’re safe.”
Something crosses Max’s face and when she speaks, she her voice is softer. “Head to the safe house, hook up with Alec. Keep yourself out of trouble. Escape and evade. They’ll never catch all of us if we don’t want to be found. Things will turn out okay.”
“Find Alec,” Max says as she disappears and the words hang in the dusty air, turning over again and again.
He stumbles into Logan’s safe house a half hour later with no real recollection of how he found it. He’s even less sure of how he managed to avoid the fighting. He has the sneaking suspicion that something had let him live.
“Sam!” a voice calls from the next room and he rounds the corner to find Alec collapsed on the couch. “I was hoping you’d gotten out.”
Sam is a little surprise. He had expected Alec to be fighting.
And then he sees the mess of red covering Alec’s midsection and suddenly, the dull throb in his wrist pales in comparison. Without saying a word he goes to the kitchen and grabs Logan’s well-stocked first aid kit.
He swabs the wound with disinfectant. Alec doesn’t make a sound. For a second Sam thinks he’s unconscious, but no, Alec’s watching him work, hardly wincing as he moves from disinfectant to stitches. As soon as he’s finished, Alec tries pushing himself to his feet. Sam shoves him back down to the couch. “Fight’s over for today.”
“They sounded the siren for escape and evade,” Sam says.
Alec relaxes almost instantaneously and Sam has to wonder how much is pain and how much is Manticore conditioning. He doesn’t let himself dwell on the thought, instead turning his attention to his own problems. His wrist is a little puffy. He’s pretty sure it’s not a clean break. Just a small fracture if he’s lucky. He should probably give himself a few weeks to heal. But he has the sneaking suspicion that there aren’t a few weeks to spare. Between the Familiars, the Coming, and the impending arrival of the Demon, Sam just doesn’t have time to stop and rest.
He turns back to Alec, suddenly remembering the small bottle of pain pills he keeps for occasions like this but Alec is asleep or maybe just unconscious. Either way, it’s probably for the best.
Besides, Sam can’t imagine forcing his body into action today. He’s running on three hours of sleep for the past two days and he can’t stomach the thought of any more fighting.
He can deal with all this tomorrow.
It’s just past when he wakes up to Alec’s screams. By the time he forces himself into awareness, Alec’s on his feet. “What’s wrong?”
When his eyes adjust to the dim light he can guess. Alec sports the haggard post-vision look that Sam knows only too well.
“Max,” Alec says shortly, pulling on his jacket. “It’s going to happen tonight.”
He’s out the door before Sam has the time to react. He’s not prepared, Sam thinks ruefully. He’s got no weapons, no plan, nothing but blind faith and pure will. He’s going to die, Sam realizes, he’s going to rush in blindly, fight to the very end and then the Demon is going to rip him apart.
And Sam doesn’t know how to stop it. Doesn’t know how to get them both through the night alive.
His wrist is throbbing, but he ignores it and grabs the weapons bag. Suicide mission or not, he’s willing to follow Alec. Just like he always used to follow Dean. There are some things worth dying for.
Alec is one of them.
He slings the weapons bag over his shoulder, and makes his way out the door hoping that Alec isn’t too far ahead of him, but when the door swings open there’s a man standing in the doorframe.
Sam stops short and stares.
He’s taller than the figure by several inches, but the man has an aura of confidence that surrounds him, builds him up and makes him seem larger than life. He’s wearing a dark trench coat, short cropped hair and a sneer.
“Ames White,” Sam says slowly.
White’s sneer twists wide. “Close, but not quite there, Sammy-boy.”
Realization hits Sam so hard it feels like a physical blow.
“It’s you,” he hisses.
White has yellow eyes.
“It was a trap,” Sam says, backing into the house. “Max isn’t in any danger.”
White follows him in, and the door swinging shut sounds like the last nail in his coffin. “Not at the moment, no. Though this body is quite eager to dispose of her.”
"But Alec’s dreams,” Sam says, “the visions…”
“You of all people know how dreams can be manipulated.”
Oh, Sam knows all about that. He’s nearly been killed because of misinterpreted visions, walked straight into dangers he would have been better off avoided, walked straight into situations and made things tenfolds worse rather than better, but he’s never once considered that it was all some part of a master plan.
At least Alec is safe. As long as he knows that, Sam can deal with anything else.
“You didn’t catch me at my best,” Sam says, stalling now because he doesn’t have a plan, doesn’t have the magic bullet or the colt stashed away. He’s making this up as he goes. “Climatic battle, death, destruction, last thing I ever expected was you crawling your way out of hell.”
“Did you really think that gun could kill me?”
“Honestly,” Sam says, “yes.”
“Then you are a fool.”
Sam shrugs, fighting to keep his calm. “If it took you ten years to crawl back out of hell, then I’d say it was worth it.”
White’s face twists into a demonic smile. “I saw your brother there.”
The air goes out of Sam’s chest as if he’d been punched. Dean. In hell. His brain can’t quite comprehend the words, Dean was a hero and Sam believes that with every ounce of his being. The very thought that Dean could be…
“He’s a favorite for the demons. They’ve enjoyed exacting their revenge.”
Demons lie, Dean whispers in his ear, demons lie all the time.
“He never screams at the beginning, but when he starts, there’s no sweeter sound.”
“That’s not true,” Sam says quietly.
“You’ll join him in due time.” The Demon laughs. “No one is coming to help you. No one will come to save you. This is Sammy Winchester, alone and powerless.”
“Don’t call me that,” Sam says. “You don’t get to call me that.”
“You can’t stop me,” the Demon says. “You’re going to die here.”
“So kill me,” Sam spits.
“All in good time, my boy. No one coming to save you.”
He’s right, Sam realizes with a jolt. Alec’s off with Max and Logan and any transgenics that would know to check are locked in battle or lying low...
“The Familiars,” Sam says slowly. “The battle. That was you.”
“It was coming for ages. They just needed a little push. They were all to willing to die for the cause.”
“The Coming,” Sam says breathlessly. “That was…”
“My plan,” the Demon says, White’s face in a large, sneering grin. “Unlock the boundaries between Earth and hell. Let all my children out to play. A Familiar for each, strong, agile and willing.”
So the battle between Familiars and Transgenics, Sam realizes, was just a stall tactic. A means to keep him from sliding the last piece in the puzzle. A way to catch him here alone. “Why me?” he asks.
“You’re special, Sammy-boy.” There’s a maniac glint in White’s yellow eyes. “The one I needed. The sacrifice I needed.”
“You could have killed me dozens of time,” Sam says. “Why wait until now?”
“It was never the right time. I’m very patient when I need to be. It’s different tonight.” A narrowed-eyed glare sends Sam flying into the wall. He sticks there, unbearable pressure pinning him four feet above this ground. “This is the right place, the right time.”
“And Alec? Asha?”
“Would you have ever come back to Seattle if it weren’t for them?” The Demon’s laughter chills Sam to the bones. “You destroy everything you touch, Sammy. Always have.” The thing raises his gaze and Sam’s body moves with it, sliding up the wall and onto the ceiling. “And it all ends tonight.”
Out of the corner of his eyes, Sam sees the door swing open, sees Alec barge into the room, but so does the Demon and all it takes is the casual wave of the hand and Alec sails into the wall with enough force to shake the entire house.
Then the demon’s attention is back on Sam and he can feel the white hot pain as his stomach slices open. Can see his own blood dripping down at first and then more than just drops, a steady stream. This is the last thing that happened to Jess, he thinks. He used to have nightmares about it, imagine what it would be like to watch his own blood drip down from the ceiling.
Alec pushes himself up from the floor, but he looks shaky, disoriented, like waking up from a year of sleep.
“Sam!” Alec screams and there’s something recognizable in his words. A fury, a possessiveness almost, that is so purely Dean that Sam can’t separate the two of them in his mind.
He knows in a sort of dim way that he’s dying. That he’s plastered on the ceiling with blood leaking from his stomach and that he’s going to burn. He doesn’t mind as much as he thought he would.
And then Alec starts talking. Latin tumbling past his lips with a fluidity Sam knows he didn’t have yesterday.
Sam can’t focus, but he vaguely recognizes the words. A binding ritual, something from a long forgotten book. It ties a demon to a corporeal form, gives it more strength, but it’s the fusion that counts. For a few moments before the demon figures a way past it, a way out, it’s mortal. One hundred percent killable. Dad mentioned trying it once, but came back with a broken leg and the verdict that the spell was a complete loss.
Everything goes quiet except for Alec. Even the Demon turns from Sam as if entranced.
The world blurs before Sam’s eyes. He’s dangerously close to unconsciousness, but he can’t pass out now, because if that spell is half as draining as it sounds, Alec’s gonna need back-up and someone needs to finish the demon off once it’s bound.
But he’s tired, and Alec’s voice is starting to fade to static and for a second, Sam’s sure it’s not Alec, but Dean, his brother. The minute differences in their voices are shining through the haze.
“Take that you son of a bitch,” Dean hisses (or is it Alec? He doesn’t know anymore) when he finishes and Sam can hear the distant violent scuffle.
Right before it all goes black, he thinks sees his brother. Dean with a hand on his shoulder, Dean with a small grin, Dean’s voice saying, “Missed you, Sammy. I still got your back.”
And then, nothing.
The hospital monitor beeps, a slow, steady pulse. Sam opens his eyes. The room is too white. He closes them almost immediately.
“Mr. Winchester!” a voice chirps. “Welcome back.”
It’s the first time in ten years he’s heard his real name used at the hospital. He tries not to let it bother him.
“You’re lucky to be here, Sam.” He can hear the rustling of papers, and cracks an eye open to see the doctor flipping though his chart. “If they’d have asked me your chances when they brought you in, I would have guessed low. You almost bled out by the time we stitched up that gash in your stomach. Lucky that brother of yours was around. With the blood shortages, not everyone gets this kind of treatment.”
“But,” Sam starts, but he can’t quite form the words. He and Dean aren’t the same blood type; Dean was an A-positive to Sam’s B-positive. It had made things more than a little difficult in the past.
“He’s waiting for you,” the doctor says, “I don’t think he’s slept yet. Should I send him in?”
“Sure,” Sam says, brain still lagging a few steps behind. “Why not.”
The doctor leaves and a couple minutes later, Alec slips into the room. Sam tries not to feel disappointed.
“So you made it after all,” Alec says. “How you feeling?”
“All things considered, pretty good,” Sam admits, because for the first time in weeks, he doesn’t feel like he’s just gone a few dozen rounds with a wendingo.
“That’s probably the supercharged transgenic blood,” Alec says offhandedly. “Enjoy it while it lasts. It fades pretty quick.”
“You know,” Sam says, “me and Dean could never do the transfusion bit. It was a freak genetic thing. Worked out so we weren’t the same type.”
“Universal donor,” Alec says with a shrug. “Perks of Manticore.”
Different from Dean, observes Sam. It doesn’t surprise him nearly as much as it used to.
“Thanks,” he says quietly.
Alec looks away. “I shouldn’t have left you alone.”
They lapse into an uncomfortable silence. Alec stares out the window. Sam picks at the fraying edge of his bed sheet. “Alec,” he says finally, “What happened in there?”
Alec frowns. “I got all the way to Terminal City before I put it together. Ran into Logan and Max was nowhere in sight. That’s when I put it together.”
“Oh,” says Sam. In truth, he’s a little disappointed to find such a mundane answer. He’d half thought that maybe Alec, like Dean, had just known. “How’d you beat that thing?” Sam asks finally. “It took us years to even get close the first time and even then it was just luck.”
Alec shrugs. “Binding ritual. Luck, I guess. The whole thing is a blur.”
Sam hesitates for a long time. “I though I saw Dean,” he says finally. “I mean I know I was out of it, half-dead from the blood loss and all, but… I thought I saw Dean.”
“The genetic twin thing probably helps,” Alec jokes.
“That’s not what I mean,” Sam says.
Alec looks at his feet. “I know.”
“Alec, what happened in there?”
“Honestly?” Alec shuffles his feet and finally meets Sam’s eyes. “I don’t remember.”
Logan slides into the seat across from him. They’re in Crash, the same bar where he’d met Alec over six months ago. The place is packed with transgenics and humans alike. There’s a celebration in order after all, the Transgenics had rallied and defeated the Familiars, won their war.
“They don’t quite get it do they?” Logan asks.
Sam shrugs. “They were outnumbered and overmatched and then the tables turned. They’ve been trained to handle impossible situations. It’s only natural for them to think they won on their own. And they did win on their own. The Familiar’s just lost their demonic booster. They deserve to enjoy their victory.”
Logan smiles. “This is driving you crazy, isn’t it?”
“You have no idea.”
The singing, the dancing, the flashing lights, Sam has had a headache since the moment he walked into this place. After hard jobs Sam has always been more likely to spend his recovery time with a good book than with drinks and parties. He’s always been this way, but the tendency’s gotten stronger as he’d gotten older. The festivities of Crash just aren’t for him anymore. Avert the apocalypse; vanquish a few spirits and Sam’s ready to move on to the next problem, the next town without stopping to party.
“Sam,” Logan says after a long moment and doesn’t continue until he meets the other man’s eyes. “I wanted to say thanks. For coming back. For looking after Max and the rest of us.”
“Anytime.” Sam says. “It’s kind of my job.”
“Logan?” A new voice says and they both look up to see Max standing in front of their booth. “You ready to blow this joint?”
Logan looks up at her. The smile lighting his face makes him seem years younger. “When you are, Max.”
Logan stands up from the table, slipping his hand into Max’s. Sam gets the feeling that they’ve been waiting for a long time. “Keep in touch?” Logan says before they leave.
“Of course,” Sam says. “Stay out of trouble.”
He watches them leave, hands intertwined, both of them smiling like idiots. They deserve to be happy. His eyes snag on Alec. He’s sitting at the bar, chatting up some girl. He’s smiling. It seems like some weight’s been lifted off his shoulders. He’s gotten his revenge and he’s free to move on. Finally free to be happy.
Sam realizes that this is where Alec belongs. Partying with his friends in a crowded club, smiling and laughing and taking his shot at normal life, not riding the back roads and hunting demons with Sam Winchester. Alec isn’t Dean.
And Sam’s okay with that.
He stares at his empty glass. (It had only been water. Somehow he’d known he’d be moving on.) Then, he turns his gaze back to Alec laughing and talking at the bar and before he can overanalyze and change his mind, he stands up and slips quietly from the bar.
It’s raining when he gets outside. Coming down in sheets just like it had been the first time he’d walked into Crash. Full circle, he thinks. He’d came into Seattle alone and would leave alone six months later. He doesn’t regret it. Even though having an echo of Dean sitting in the passenger seat of the old impala had burned more than he could have ever imagined, he’s never regretted it for a second. He likes Alec, but at the same time knows Alec’s better off in Seattle.
He doesn’t say goodbye. There is a message on his phone about a job in California and he walks through the pouring rain back to the old Impala without looking back. After The Fight when he had left for college, Sam has always figured it was better to leave quietly.
It’s better this way.
The Impala’s door creaks open and Sam slides smoothly inside and slips the key into the ignition.
Suddenly there’s a rap on the passenger side door and Sam turns his head to see Alec standing there. “Open up! I’m getting soaked here.”
Sam reaches to the passenger’s door and flips open the lock. Alec yanks the door open and enters the car, pulling the door shut behind him.
“What the hell are you doing?” Sam asks.
Alec shakes his sopping wet head, spraying Sam with a fine mist of water. “What the hell are you doing? You aren’t supposed to leave without me.”
“But it’s over,” Sam protests. “You should stay here, get back to your life.”
“What if I don’t want to?” Alec retorts.
Sam turns to stare at him. His brother’s genetic replica. He deserves the perfect normal life, just like Dean never had. Just like Sam never had.
“You don’t want this. It’s dangerous, lonely…”
Alec shrugs, leans back in his seat, looking comfortable, at ease, at home. “Sounds like my kind of fun.”
Sam doesn’t say a word. Alec doesn’t move.
“You going to start the car or just sit there like an idiot?” Alec asks finally. “Like it or not, you’re stuck with me.”
Sam smiles and turns the key.
If you’ve made it to the end of this series, you deserve a medal. This ‘verse first highjacked my brain almost ten moths ago and let me tell you this series practically ate my senior year. I had no idea it would evolve into this, but here we are. It’s been a hell of a ride.
Thank you guys so much for reading