Game History


In June of 2009 Sam and Dean Winchester killed Lilith and stopped her from opening the last of the Seals. Lucifer did not walk free. The crisis was averted. But the two Winchester men were changed forever. Dean, having been to hell and back and his descent to hell having started the entire thing to begin with; and Sam having suffered his own version of hell, were not the same men they once were. They were tired and broken, and had spent the better part of a year growing further and further apart. The wedge that had lodged itself between them had left wounds and scars that couldn't seem to heal. Bobby, their father figure, perished during one of the final fights.

While the two had a few hunts here and there after the fall of Lilith, their hearts weren't in it. Sam wanted to keep going, he knew there would always be something to hunt and people who needed saving. Dean had no further interest, he had been an agent of heaven and hell. He'd seen things that he wanted to put behind him. Three months later the two went their separate ways.

Dean eventually settled into an apartment in Kent, Washington. He got a job in an auto shop, took the name "Dean Campbell" and did his best to build a new life. Sam, for his part, kept hunting. He kept fighting, it was a part of him now that he couldn't shake off even if he wanted to. His powers never went dormant again, and he knew that he had to keep using them for good to continually prove that he wasn't evil. He became more and more withdrawn from the rest of the world. The normal world that he had once wanted to be a part of. He was becoming a legend among hunters, not unlike his Father before him. The two spoke by phone occasionally for the first year of their separation. Sam stopped by to see his brother a year after they split up, he passed through town and the two had a beer together in a bar. They had nothing in common anymore. They barely spoke, and each goodbye was as bittersweet as the last. Eventually the calls stopped being returned, and soon all contact had ceased.

The formerly inseparable Winchester brothers had broken their bond and neither were the better for it. They survived more than lived. Dean worked, had a few girlfriends, paid his rent on time, went out for beers with his co-workers and lined the doors and windows of his apartment with salt every night. Sam lived on the road, in the shadows, helping those who needed it, and waiting for the next big bad.

It's January 1, 2012. The next big bad is here.

Everyone has heard of the enigmatic date of December 21, 2012. Some model their lives around the cataclysmic change that is said to occur on that date. Some have decided that the world will come to an end, some simply think that the "world as we know it" will change. Sam Winchester has found evidence that this date isn't just another Doomsday Prophecy, it's real and it's happening. Events that were put into motion the moment Dean traded his life for Sam's are leading up to this event. He's seen the angels walking among men, he's seen the demons rising up through the ranks, and he's seen and been touched by real evil. The Five Satans have been walking amongst men for a millenia. Each generation reborn to take a form of a mortal who has somehow shaped the dark history of the world of men. Their day of reckoning is upon the world, and closer than anyone realizes.

Sam and Dean Winchester have work to do.

Story Behind the Great Winchester Divorce of 2009 :)

tWho: Sam and Dean
When: September 9 2009
Where: Little Rock, Arkansas
Summary: Game History Purposes-Sam and Dean separate
Rating: PG-13 strong language
Status: Not Done.





Sam had defeated Lilith and with her he had hoped he'd been able to slay some of his own demons as well. And Dean's. He wouldn't have been able to do it without Dean and his angel crew, and whatever mojo they laid on him. Sure in the end it had been Sam's powers that bested the beast, but he couldn't have done it without Dean. Somehow he had stupidly thought that once he got his revenge on Lilith for taking his family and destroying everything he would feel better. He didn't, so to make himself feel better he found the next hunt not even a week after getting rid of the bitch.

It had been like that for two months now, one hunt after another having Dean drive them all over the US, good old fashioned monster hunts. But things were not the same. Sam didn't know if they ever would be. They spent the previous year waking up in the room with a stranger in the bed next to them. Sam didn't know Dean anymore, and Dean acted like he didn't know Sam. Hell, Sam looked in the mirror sometimes and hardly knew himself.

They were currently in Little Rock dealing with an angry spirit haunting a patch of road, nothing they hadn't dealt with before, but Sam was busy doing the research. Dean had gone out to get something to eat, and Sam was pacing back and forth looking at the pictures of victims he had taped to the motel room wall. Trying to piece it together, whatever it was they had in common, Sam hadn't found it yet. He heard the motel room door open and he looked over momentarily, "I know it's right in front of my face and I just can't quite grab it," he said as he walked closer and looked as if standing closer would somehow show it to him.

Dean had needed the moment away from the hunt to get food, and just take a moment to think. His heart wasn't in this anymore. He couldn't even say it was a recent development, or a sudden thing. It had happened gradually from the moment he dug himself out of his own coffin. He had kept fighting then because he hadn't had a choice, because he had personal connections to what they were hunting. Because if he didn't, they'd hunt him anyway, so he might as well have an offensive plan. The problem was that he'd had it in his mind that as soon as Lilith was gone he could stop. He and Sam could have some semblance of a normal life.

Well, Lilith came and went, and he and Sam were still hunting. Saving lives, yes. Making a difference? A small one, possibly. For the most part they were just trudging along, and Dean had begun to wonder when it was their turn to stop. Hunters died young. They didn't quit. They died fighting, and Dean was tired of sacrificing. He and Sam had died enough times.

What was worse was that Sam was so into it. That was all he seemed to want to do, and it had vague hints of John Winchester all over it. The hints that Dean hated. The hints that he'd screamed at when trapped inside his own dream. "Yeah, I don't know, Sam." Dean said off-handedly as he collapsed into a chair to stare at the back of Sam's head. It looked like he was studying the pictures taped haphazardly to the wall, but in reality it was a show. He didn't care if they found whatever it was. Things would keep coming, even after he was dead. Was he really making that much of a difference?


The complete and total role reversal would have been shocking to Sam, even scary. The problem was that he was so in to the hunt, and so far gone that he didn’t notice anything had changed. Well, aside from what was obvious. He and Dean were not close anymore, not like brothers should be, and not like the brothers they used to be. They didn’t know each other anymore. The little time that Sam did spend thinking about it he assumed that the more they hunted, the further they got away from Lilith and the last two years of their lives everything would fall into place. It had to.


Sam didn’t think that he was turning into his Father, even if someone asked him he’d say that Dean was more like Dad than anyone. But Sam was still holding onto a vision of Dean that didn’t exist, Sam was still holding onto a vision of himself that didn’t exist. He walked back and forth trying to find some kind of pattern. They were men and women that were disappearing. They were disappearing at random intervals. No one had died on that stretch of road that they could find. It was like they were just falling off the face of the earth. He walked over to the table and sat down and opened his journal and started looking over his notes again. A thought occurred to him then and he looked at Dean curiously. “You didn’t bring me anything?” he asked furrowing his brow. That was a first. That was a major first. In fact, the first time he’d stayed at Jessica’s apartment when they first started dating she’d come into the bedroom with a glass of milk and he cocked his head to the side and asked where his was. She’d told him to get up and get it himself. When Dean brought food, or coffee, or anything, throughout Sam’s entire life there was always two of them. One for Sam, and one for Dean. Sometimes there was just one for Sam. This had never happened before. And Sam was taken aback slightly.


Dean started as though he were being pulled out of a dream, looking curiously at Sam as he tried to figure out what Sam had just said. He had heard it, he knew that, it just took a moment for brain to catch up with ears, and after a minute he rubbed at his temple. “Sorry,” He said tiredly as he leaned back in his chair. “I didn’t think of it. I can uh…go back out…” Dean said awkwardly, before moving to stand up. It would give him another excuse to get out of that stuffy motel room with its cheesy décor and occult-plastered walls.


But then he stopped, and he eyed Sam for a long moment. “Sam,” He said, sighing. “Can’t we give this one to one of the other hunters? Let’s take a vacation. Let’s…” He shrugged, letting his arms drop uselessly to his side. “Go to the Grand Canyon. I don’t know. Vegas. The Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. Anything.”


Sam waved it off, he would grab something when they went out again later. It was just bit strange, Dean didn’t think of it. “You’re not thinking of a lot of things recently,” Sam said shrugging and looking back at his journal.


When Dean stood up Sam assumed he was going to try and look at a few things on the wall, but then he mentioned a vacation and Sam smiled at him. He obviously wasn’t serious. “Dude, I know this is the part you hate, but we’ll get to kill it soon,” he said chuckling. “Just as soon as we find out what the hell it is.”


"Sam, seriously," Dean said. He looked as worn out as he felt. His stubble was a bit longer than he usually let it get, his hair was about as frazzled as it could get in its short crop. He gave Sam the classic Dean-pleading look; the one where he didn't seem quite sure of himself, and was almost looking towards his brother for reassurance that it was okay to feel this way. "We could go to Florida. Go to some of those big amusement parks. Or Vegas. I'm in a gambling kind've mood." He was mostly suggesting things to hook Sam's fancy. It was a long shot, but Dean really didn't want to do this hunt.


"C'mon Sammy," Dean said, rubbing at his forehead. "Haven't we hunted enough? We just killed Lilith. We kept the goddamn earth from ending. Can't we have a break?"


Sam looked at him strangely for a long moment and sighed loudly. He folded his hands in front of him and fidgeted uncomfortably for a bit. Dean had no right to ask this of him, he was the one who'd dragged him back into it to begin with. This whole mess...And Dean just wanted to quit. Sam chewed on his bottom lip and finally looked back up at Dean. "No, Dean. We can't. This life..." he then looked past Dean and out the motel room window for a long moment. "Dean it's all I have. It's the only thing I'm ever going to be able to finish, I'm 26 dude, I am not just going to go retire somewhere, take some shitty job from a place that won't ask questions and think about the nice normal quiet life I should have had. We're hunters, Dean. Like it or not. I'm not stopping. I can't."


"Yeah, Sam. You're twenty-six." Dean muttered, flopping himself down on the bed with his hands over his eyes. "I'm almost thirty-one, Sam. I've been fighting the good fight for over twenty-five years now, man. I just...I need a break. When we fought Lilith, dude, I thought that was it. We were going to die fighting, or we were going to be done hunting when she was gone. I mean..." Dean sighed. He wasn't entirely sure why he was trying to explain this to Sam, why it was such a big deal that they didn't finish this hunt. He could always do this one and declare it his last. But the idea of fighting anymore..."I'm tired, Sam. I've been to hell and back. You've died, I've died twice. We lost dad, and mom, and Bobby. You lost Jess. I just can't do it anymore. I've got nothing left, Sammy."

Sam couldn't believe he was hearing this, "Exactly, we've lost all of those people and now you want to give up? You, of all people, the person who threw a bitch fit when I said I wanted to go back to school after we killed Yellow-Eyes. You, the one who reminded me that there would always be something to hunt. Dean...Right before you died, you told me to keep going, keep hunting, keep on going like Dad taught me..." he paused and stood up and started pacing. "I get that you're tired, I feel that way too sometimes, but dude. If we don't do it who will? This is it, Dean. Our lives, like it or not. I know it's hard, but I also know that I can do it by myself." The words were out before he had a chance to stop them, he knew Dean couldn't do it by himself, that's half the reason he'd gone looking for him all those years ago. But...Sam had done it by himself. He'd gone on and done exactly what Dean asked of him, and now he was trying to take it all away. The cards were on the table. "Dean, I'm not stopping. You don't have to do anything you don't want to do. But neither do I. And I want to keep going."

Dean didn't know how to react to Sam's speech. Most of it were things he'd expected Sam to say, particularly his own words thrown back in his face. He didn't know how to explain to his brother that those were different times, that he was a different person now. But he hadn't gotten much of a chance to think of how to explain it either because his brothers words hung heavy in the room. Sam could do it by himself. He didn't need Dean. Just like dad hadn't needed him. Dean's whole life had been hunting, but what did it matter? Sam didn't need him to hunt. The world didn't need him to hunt. Dean was an insignificant little blip trying to keep up with the big guns, and Sam had made that perfectly clear with one sentence.

Silence stretched between them and Dean suddenly got up and grabbed his coat. Sam wanted to keep going. He wanted to stop. Sam didn't need him. Why stay? "Keep hunting then, Sam." He said, his voice icy and full of hurt. "But I gotta tell ya, I hope that the next time I see you, I'm not salting and burning you. Take a look in the mirror. And congratulations, Sam. You've turned into dad."

Sam did need him, that wasn't in question. "I just want you to do what you want to do. You think I don't want you to be happy? Dad didn't care what either of us wanted. I want to keep hunting, you want to stop. Don't stay just because you think I can't do it alone. I want you to do what you want to do, Dean." He said honestly. When Dean had his jacket Sam walked over to him and grabbed his arm and looked at him for a long moment. He could read his brother like a book and he knew he was serious. He looked down at the ground and then back at Dean, "I just don't know what else to do, Dean." he said quietly. He pulled his brother roughly toward him and hugged him tightly, this wasn't the typical 'you were just dead' hug either. Sam was pretty sure he was never going to see his brother again. At least not for a damn long time. When he stepped back he looked at Dean and cleared his throat, "This is it then?"

"I'm not seeing another option, Sam." Dean said. The urge to call him 'Sammy' had come up, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. Not when they were parting ways like this. Not when the man standing before him was no longer 'Sammy.' He wasn't staring at Sammy anymore. No, his brother was definitely just Sam. All hunter. All obsession. It was heartbreaking to see. "We both hunt, we both stop, or we go it alone. I can't hunt anymore. You can't stop hunting." Dean literally looked like he was wilting with every word he said. He didn't want to leave Sam. Sam was all he had. But he knew he couldn't keep hunting, either, and as much as it was killing him to suggest it, leaving his brother was the only way to keep both of them from destroying each other. He held on tightly to his brother, longer than usual, and barely kept from choking up. "Don't let it kill you, Sam."

Sam was...Taken aback, he was pretty sure that Dean, while serious, would eventually see that leaving wasn't the best option, but Sam didn't know what was. He had lived without Dean before, but would it be harder to live without Dean knowing that Dean was out there somewhere? Sam didn't know what to think about this, all he knew was that his brother was leaving him. Seriously and honestly leaving him. Dean wasn't supposed to do that. Dean wasn't the one who left. Sam was the one who left. Sam was the one who left his family, he was the one who screwed everything up in the beginning. Dean wasn't supposed to be doing that now. Dean was the one who'd brought Sam this far, who'd gotten him to this point, and now he was just leaving. Accusing him of being like Dad.

He wanted to ask his big brother what he was supposed to do now? How he was supposed to keep going. Would Dean just get in the car and leave? And that would be it? Sam nodded, tried to keep his eyes from stinging as his brother told him not to let it kill him...But did Dean even care about that anymore? If something happened to him, how would Dean even know? If something happened to Dean how would Sam know? He had to wonder if this is what he put his family through when he went to college, if so....He wished more than anything to be able to take that back. "Ok." Was all he managed to say.

He walked over and sat down on the edge of his bed and rested his elbows on his knees as he ran his hands through his hair. "Dean are you really leaving? Like are you really like right now going to get into your car and just go? I mean...Are you?" he asked still not looking at his brother. "I get it if you are, I do. At least I'm trying to...But are you really leaving? Or are you just gonna go get drunk and come back?" Regardless of what Dean said, it would probably be months before Sam accepted that Dean wasn't coming back. Ever.

"I..." Dean hesitated when Sam sat down like that. Regardless of everything going down, regardless of how much they changed, Dean still had that overwhelming part of himself that needed to shield his brother from everything he could. He remembered too well how awful it had felt when Sam left, how much he hated his dad for not doing more to make Sam stay, how mad at Sam he was for leaving in the first place. He didn't want to be that guy who left his family to go off into the unknown. And he would be going off into more unknown than Sam had. At least Sam knew he was going off to college. A look at the pictures on the wall seemed to help him move forward again.

"I've got nothing left, Sammy," He said, almost begging, even calling him Sammy as though it'd help him. "I just don't. I've tried. I tried to keep pushing forward with the last few hunts we've done, but man, I just can't anymore. It's one thing after another. There's seriously no end in sight. And it was fine when I had you, Sam, but you're not here anymore. Not really."

Sam looked at Dean, not even bothering to hide any amount of sorrow from Dean. It was hard to hear those words out lout, the fact that Dean honestly thought he had nothing left. Sam knew he was right, they had spent the last year ripping each other to shreds. Too many things had gone unsaid, too many secrets were still not on the table, and now certainly wasn't the time to bring them up. But the truth was, Sam didn't know Dean either. And he could sympathize with his brother about everything he was saying. Sam had wanted to quit before, Sam had wanted nothing more than normal, but that was over. This was all he could do.

However a few words stung, and rang a bit too familiar for Sam and they made him angry more than they made him sad. He looked at his brother long and hard for a moment and shook his head, "Nothing left? Not even your brother?" he said and stood up because he couldn't just sit there anymore, not while his life was falling apart. "Don't ever forget that I know exactly what that feels like." He had to get out of this room, he couldn't sit here while his brother packed his bags and his car and took off.

He went into his own duffle and pulled out raggedy back pack, it was his 'in case of emergency Dean' bag, "The GPS so you don't get lost you just plug it into the cigarette lighter, Dad's gun, and that flashlight you've been trying to win from me in poker, there's also some extra batteries," he tried searching his mind for anything and everything that Dean would need if Sam wasn't there. "There is also an extra cell phone charger, well two of them for when you lose one," he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet and put a couple of cards down next to Dean "One is health and one is dental, they're two year policies paid up front. You have a fifteen dollar co-pay at the doctor, fifty bucks for emergency room," his mind was racing, and he was suddenly all business. It occurred to him as he handed all this stuff over, and gave Dean the details on what was what that he had been in this position before. Only it was Dad that was handing all this stuff over to Dean while Sam sat at the table pretending to do his homework. "Don't lose the bag either man, there's three hundred dollars cash sewed inside the lining. I .... I gotta get out here," he said trying his hardest not to cry. Hoping that once he left Dean would either pack and go, or change his mind.

Dean wasn't about to comment that part of him wanted to get lost when Sam was giving him things to make things easier. He just took everything in silence as Sam handed it over. The GPS (like he knew how to use that), their dad's gun, the flashlight that was a bittersweet gift. He felt a lump rising in his throat as his mind raced, and he barely heard what Sam was saying. His body went through the motions, the nods, the receival of cards, putting everything together in his pocket and the bag Sam gave him. He could remember various times where he'd gotten this very speech, similar survival tools. He was younger then, Sam was younger, Dean was taking care of Sam, and their dad was running off again. It was fitting in this situation.

"I won't lose it," He said with a nod. He was avoiding eye contact with Sam as he moved over to drawers to grab clothes and shove them haphazardly into a duffle. It was only when he wasn't looking at Sam that he let the tears fall, and nodded when he knew he wasn't going to be able to keep his voice steady.

Sam sighed and looked at his brother as he just got up and started packing. Jesus. Sam couldn't be here for this. Part of him just wanted to tell Dean to knock it off they could quit, but Sam didn't think that he could quit. Not like this, not in the middle of a job like this, and what was he supposed to do once he quit? That life didn't belong to him anymore. "Look Dean," he started to say, but he didn't know how to finish it. "Take care, Dean, and...." he paused. "Dude. I'm always going to be here if you need anything. You will always know how to find me. That'll never change. So...Just keep in touch, and let me know what you decide to do, just..." he was getting choked up, and could hardly believe this was happening. This wasn't supposed to happen. Not to them. "Bye, Dean." He said and walked out of the room just as quickly as Dean had entered it less than a half hour before.