Five minutes ago, you were just trying to have a normal conversation with Sam about your love for Dean.

That didn’t go well.

You had no idea Sam was possessed. At all. Which is why after you told him, he said that Dean thought nothing of you other than the fact you were just like a schoolgirl, nothing more. He went on to tell you that he was just looking out for you, placing his hand over yours, not letting your arm move as you tried to take it away, saying all he wanted to do was help.

As you tell him to leave, he gets off the bar stool, going to exit the empty bar as you turn around. He comes up behind you, spinning you around and trying to keep you in place as you attempt get him off of you, which obviously does not work as the man is 6’4.

That just leads to you trying to knock him out with an empty beer bottle, which HE smashes on the bar and smacks your head against it as well, knocking you out.

Which leads you to where you are now, tied up on one of the wooden polls in the bar, your hands restrained as he finishes tying the rope your kept there with.

“So tell me, what did your mom tell you about how your dad died?”

He asks, but it’s more of a demand than anything, his tone isn’t very friendly, more pushy as he drags up a stool beside you and sits down. As he sits, he becomes the same height as you, holding the hunting knife up to your face.

“C’mon. It’s me. You can tell me anything, you know that.”

His tone shifts, a more softer one, but you know it’s all a coy, the puppy dog eyes don’t seem as soft as they always do, now look more threatening-soft than anything.

You knew you had to tell him, you were scared enough as it is. So you do. You tell him everything you know and how it happened—just he knows the truth—you don’t. He sticks the knife into the poll above your head, coming around to be right by your face.

“My daddy shot your daddy in the head.”

He says softly, almost in a sing-songy tone to you, he was trying to get in your head. Or…maybe that was the truth?…