You were a Demon, and Sam was a hunter. But he still found himself teaming up with you. His brother, Dean, always protested against your friendship- he always suspected something about you; plus, he hated your guts just for being a demon- which is mainly why you and Sam met up late at night instead of during the daylight.

Sam had snuck out from his and Deans motel to meet you at some abandoned house so he could excorcise a demon; which you'd been teaching him to do these past few months, ever since he'd been feasting on your blood- which enabled his telekinetic powers.

Youd just cleaned up the dead body of a demon that Sam had unsucessfully excorcised; Sam was sat on the chair, trying to regain his energy. You were trying to comfort him about his failed attempt, cupping his face as your lips brushed across his face. He hesitated as you got closer, scrunching up his face, eventually gripping both of your wrists and shoving you back, standing up and storming into the living room, sitting on the couch. "what's wrong?" you asked, watching him from the kitchen. "Whats wrong?" he repeated with a scoff, "where do I begin?" he spat angrily. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn't help the clear intimate connection between you two.