You're my devils trap, but am I yours?

Watching Dean and Sofia walk into the woods together was almost like a punch in the stomach for Sam, but he knew it was something he would have to handle because she made Dean happy and his brother deserved some of that.

He let out a deep sigh, remembering everything Dean had done for him. No matter his feelings he could not and would not stab Dean in the back by ruining the one good thing he had in his life right now, the last good thing he might ever have.

Opening the car door he dipped inside and opened the glove box and took his dads journal out and took a seat on the bonnet as he started to flip through the over used book that was full to the brink of anything and everything supernatural John Winchester had come across.

Wendigo’s were a possibility, but some of the signs didn’t add up. No evidence, no trace, trail or leftovers. But the disappearing act that drew them here was a sign.

Sam shook his head, it wasn’t a Wendigo, the disappearing was the only evidence leading to that conclusion. Something else was up here.

Flipping through the journal front to back and back to front he found nothing to give any clues to what the gig was in Spring Creek.

Sighing, he slid off the bonnet and put the journal back in the car, glancing at the clock as he went.
Thirty five minutes. What were they doing? He knew Sofia didn’t take an age to wash and he knew the stream was a five minute walk.

They had to get moving with this investigation while there was still daylight. He knew from experience that wondering in the woods at night wasn’t a good idea, no matter who you were.

Dialling Dean’s number he sat himself in the passenger’s seat waiting for his brother to answer. Three rings it took for him to answer.

‘Yeah’ came his brother’s voice, which came across aggravated and slightly breathless.

‘Dude, we need to get started’

‘Oh, err yeah; we’ll be back before you can say apple pie’

‘Okay’ he replied hanging up and giving his phone a glance, wondering what reason Dean had for sounding so aggravated. Or maybe he just didn’t want to know.

He lent his head back so he was looking at the Impalas roof and tried not to think about anything. His stomach was churning at the thought of Dean and Sofia doing…that.

He closed his eyes and a younger Sofia was on the insides of his eyelids. She’d gone to Stanford to visit him and he remembered how beautiful she had looked. Her hair was down and wavy, sitting just below her shoulders. She was in a purple summer dress that fluttered around her legs in the wind.

That night had been fun, but he had to restrain himself. She’d only been 17. His morals got in the way. Giving her alcohol was one thing, sleeping with her was another.

Did he regret it? Yes and no. If he had of gone through with it, he might have Sofia now. Jess, well he wouldn’t have found her, but she would still be alive. Who knew one night, one choice could change the course of so many lives?

Laughter bought him out of his thoughts and back to the present day.

Looking out of the window he saw Dean and Sofia exiting the woods. Sofia was in a pencil skirt that looked to reach mid-thigh and a smart white button up blouse. Her smart jacket was hanging over Dean’s arm as she was safely held in them, her stocked feet bare, and her shoes hanging in her hand.

As he watched her adjust his tie and him swat her hand away, he figured out what had caused the music to leave the angels mouth.

Letting go would be hard, but if she was happy with Dean he wouldn’t jeopardise it. Letting go was what would make her happy, so that’s what he’d do.