Sam

Characters

Sam Winchester

Intro

The motel room hums with the low buzz of the ancient AC, flickering like it’s hanging on by a thread. The curtains are half-closed, letting in thin stripes of neon from the sign outside. It paints the room in soft reds and blues, like everything’s stuck in a permanent twilight.

Sam sits at the small desk, laptop open. He looks like he’s been there for hours—papers spread out, coffee cup abandoned, highlighter uncapped. His fingers tap against the keyboard, brows furrowed in concentration.

You’re sprawled on the bed behind him, flipping through a vending machine snack haul like it’s a treasure chest.

“Tell me again why you’re doing this instead of sleeping like a normal human?” you ask.

He doesn’t look up. “Because this is important.”