Sam Winchester

When Sam was only six months old on November 2, 1983, his mother, Mary, was killed in his nursery by the Yellow-Eyed Demon Azazel, whom his mother walked in on while Azazel was standing over Sam's crib, feeding him his very own demon's blood which transformed the boy forever. Sam still has a kind of psychic trauma due to this day and doesn't particularly like Halloween because of it. Exactly 22 years later, this same demon kills Sam's girlfriend, Jessica Moore, right in front of his eyes, an act to encourage Sam's deeper descent in to a life of the Supernatural. This very incident had also awoken Sam's Supernatural abilities, thus creating a very torn, confused, and tormented Samuel Winchester.

Sam and Dean spent their childhood moving from town to town while their father hunted Supernatural beings. Up until he turned 8 years old, Sam believed his mother had died in a car accident and his father was a traveling salesman, but then he found his father's journal and demanded Dean explain everything. Dean then revealed to him the existence of the paranormal which eventually lead to Sam hunting alongside his brother and father around the age of twelve, though he tended to choose to do more of the research than the actual field work.

However, Sam eventually began to crave a normal life without monsters and ghosts when a teacher of his, unaware of the whole story, encouraged him to seek alternatives to "the family business." So at first, Sam rebelled against his family's line of work - battling the Supernatural - yet came to the realization that he had no choice but to eventually give in to it.

When Sam was about 15, John and Dean left him alone to go off and hunt a Kitsune while Sam stayed behind to compile the research for them so that they could exterminate it accordingly. This is where Sam met Amy, who, unbeknownst to him at the time, was the daughter of the Kitsune John and Dean were hunting. Sam eventually learned his friend was a Kitsune but decided to let her go when she had killed her own mother in order to save his life. It was then Sam realized that not all monsters were monsters. And after that life changing event transpired, Sam ran away, like he had attempted many times before without much success, to Flagstaff, Arizona. As per the norm, Dean had found and was watching him from afar. Sam managed to stay there for two weeks, another effort at having something akin to a normal life and even took in a dog which he called Bones. Yet John, upon catching up to him, refused to let him keep his new found pet and demanded he fall in line with his brother. However, Sam's final bout against his father's wishes eventually led him to walking out on his family forever and wound him up at Stanford University thus leaving his father and brother and their hunting crusade behind him...

In addition to being Dean's younger brother, Sam is the second son of John and Mary Winchester, the older paternal half-brother of Adam Milligan, the grandson of Samuel and Deanna Campbell and Henry and Millie Winchester, and the third cousin of Gwen and Christian Campbell. He and Dean are also the adoptive sons of Bobby Singer and are descendants of Cain and Abel.

Considered empathetic, Sam senses the emotions of people, especially with his brother. He always knows when something is wrong and Sam likes to talk things out when there is trouble. He attempts to find both sides of the story and then decide what could be done to prevent as much collateral damage, such as human lives, as possible. Sam often asks others to share what they think and feel and he has a knack for getting people to trust him. He is a great talker, but an even better listener and more subtle and rational to the illogical and carefree nature that is his brother, Dean Winchester. They are considered soul mates, however, and have an unwavering bond that ties the two together despite the many attempts by Sam to separate himself from his brother.

It was when Dean returned one fateful day, that Sam would, once again find himself spiraling in to a life he had hoped would never come back to haunt him. And those pivotal words uttered by his older brother that would change everything for Sam were...

"Dad's on a hunting trip and he hasn't been home in a few days..."

• Sam lives by his own personal decree. "We have to save as many people as we can."
• Sam suffers from Coulrophobia -- a fear of clowns.
• Dean claims his brother is "A walking encyclopedia of weirdness."
• Those puppy dog eyes of his will sucker you into believing him -- another claim by his brother.
• Sam's aliases include Agent Hamill, Robert Singer, Mr. Berkowitz, Detective McCreedy, Father Frehley, Dr. Jerry Kaplan, Deputy Marshal Frank Beard, Detective Dante, Police Chief Phil Jones, Agent Page, Detective Bachman -- more to come, obviously!
• He only allows those closest to him, such as Dean and John, to call him "Sammy".
• Sam has shown to be religious and that he also prays. Originally, Sam admired Angels, but has grown to not trust them, yet Sam still prays to God despite his past history with the Angels.
• Many of the individuals Sam is romantically or sexually connected to have this unfortunate knack for dying or in other cases, turn out to be Supernatural beings that his brother never really approves of and thus Sam either has to break it off with them to save their lives or Dean winds up killing them. Or Dean winds up killing them anyway, because that's how Dean Winchester rolls.
• Sam was able to seize control of his body after having been possessed by an Angel. His father and Bobby Singer had previously managed to seize back control from demons, but for shorter periods of time than Sam and against foes much weaker than Lucifer.
• Soulless Sam had entirely different preferences than his previous, souled self that spanned from women to guns, life and death, mercy and ruthlessness, etc.
• Unlike his brother, Sam has a preference for healthy foods, and he also has this undeclared expectation that Dean will inevitably bring him his sustenance. Sam never has to ask, he just expects it and Dean continues to deliver without failure and so as such, it is surprising and somewhat disappointing to Sam when he is not presented with something even if it's by someone else other than his brother.
• Sam absolutely loves Tiramisu. It is to Sam as pie is to Dean.
• Sam is immune to the Croaton Virus.
• When he feels at his worst as a human being, Sam attempts to drown himself in alcohol like his brother and father before him, but the affects are different than they are for the elder Winchesters. Instead of becoming belligerent and raring for a fight, Sam becomes withdrawn, insightful, philosophical, thoughtful, and facetious. At times he even becomes bittersweet and sardonic, cracking jokes and laughing at his own misfortune.
• Despite not having drank demon's blood since the last incident, Sam still has an insatiable craving for it and when around demons, especially those of higher rank or with more potent blood, Sam must always restrain himself around them. He has managed to guise this want with his own self-proclaimed Hunter mindset, which has worked in his favor, especially around his brother, Dean.
• Every rare once in a while, Sam still has nightmares or premonitions that link him back to his psychic days.
• Sam, oddly enough, happens to be a universal vessel for Demons and Angels alike. It's very frustrating to him, in the end, but can be beneficial to some if utilized properly.
• Sam likes Deadmau5.
• All of Sam's coffees are frothy, sweet, creamy, milky things because plain old black coffee is just disgusting.
• Sam was a theater kid in school growing up and has a secret love and devotion to all forms of art. He was particularly interested in the technical know how that went in to theatrics.
• Stuff
• Stuff
• And more stuff.

So Dean stopped by... He looked pretty rough around the edges, yet he was alone. He knew that bringing Dad with him would wind up being just another family dispute – a family dispute that would quickly decline into a knock-down-drag-out and neither of us really looked prepared to deal with that.

It was awkward at first, but I knew Dean was never one to really do emotions well or, as some would put it, hug things out. I invited him into the hotel of course, but he looked uncomfortable, if not a bit shifty like he was expecting something to happen or someone to show up, and he didn't want to be there at that very moment. I overlooked it because, well, what else was I going to do, and if he was in real peril, he would have used one of the code words. Instead, he just rubbed at his arm like some gawky high school kid introducing himself for the first time. What a weirdo.

Eventually, he came in took a good look around. I could instantly see the disappointment on his face, but I chose to ignore it like I always have. I mean, it gets to a point where you try so hard for so long and it's just never enough, so why bother, right? The hotel itself was probably one of the worst spots I've been in for a while though, so I guess I can kind of understand, but the case I'm working isn't exactly simple either. Lots of legwork. And this was as good a headquarters as any.

The light fixtures were dingy and one was just missing entirely, the bed looked slept in, but the irony was, I'd yet to sleep in it, and the carpet was no longer carpet. It had taken in the grime of every footprint that had graced this tawdry hotel room and there was a tar-like stickiness that clung to the bottom of our boots. It really was a shit stain.

“You eatin' right, Sammy?” was the first thing Dean asked me when he finally decided to open up and talk. All I could do was reply with the roll of my eyes – maybe my scoff was a little over the top, but seriously, I'm done with this baby brother nonsense. I can handle a few skipped meals for fuck's sake.

I did the one thing I didn't think I was going to do and asked about Dad and how things were once the two of them left San Angeles. Dean just smiled, and for the love of all things holy and good, it was the most obnoxious shit I've ever seen. He never gets sick of shoving his pretentious insipidity on me and the worst part is, he knows I think he's a moron, he just doesn't care.

Nevertheless, he goes on to tell me that they're doing great and how wonderful it was to have the father-son team back together battling ghouls and ghosts once again. I'd really opened up a can of worms with this one because Dean probably prattled on for a good half-hour about a particular case involving some girl he had met while chasing down a family of Nagas that had nested in a small town just outside of Iowa. He spoke more about the girl in ways that made my stomach turn, but Dean had always been a braggart.

I guess it was good to see him so happy though. I think that's probably the best part of all of this. Dean had really changed something fierce when Dad vanished from the picture. It was as if Dean felt he had to fulfill some role in Dad's absence, but now that he's back, it was like looking at the picture of my big brother's youth once more. So there I sat, tolerating his cheap thrills with a goofy smile on my own face, glad to hear they took care of the supernatural pest and Dean's ridiculous victory lay.

Apparently, Dad had taken Hunting full-on again. Death and rebirth didn't deter him one bit. I was kind of surprised because after that same bullshit happened to me and Dean, we tried to change things up and drastically too. Of course, it never worked, but Dad seems dead set on vanquishing the baddies of the world, I guess. I just wish they both understood things the way I do.

I put in my two cents here and there and gave my brother a few endearing mudslingings in the process. He couldn't walk away from this unscathed – Hell no! Before we knew it, I was regaling my own experiences here in San Angeles, reporting in with the authorities as it were, to let them know just what sort of things I'd been up to. I felt like this was my chance to express my purpose here and what I was attempting to achieve. I wanted Dean to see what I was striving for, the causes I wholly represent.

My current case was my opportunity to get what had been on my mind for so long out in the open, and when I went to explain to Dean, I could see his smugness transform into incredulity. I never once back-peddled though and, headstrong, I spared no details and gave him all the particulars. Once I was finished, I noted his speechlessness. In a way, it kind of felt pretty damn good, but I wanted him to say something – anything. I wanted him to know why I was doing what I was doing.

“You're protecting a witch!? Why the Hell for?” he barked after many times of tripping over his own tongue.

See, it is my understanding that everyone, Supernaturals included, should be considered an individual and never generalized. If that were the case, it still wouldn't be our right to deal with them – who are we to judge? I attempted to explain to him that not every creepy-crawly, long-legged beasty was out to get us. The notion was completely out of his grasp, however, and like it always had in the past, a fight ensued over it. He claimed my time spent in San Angeles had warped me and that I was coming back with him "right fucking now", I believe were his words. So while Dean was trying to drag me out of my makeshift little hovel, I had told him that I had always had this conviction about everyone. It didn't just happen.

In disbelief, Dean continued to argue with me, but I held firm, of course. I wasn't about to stray and I would defend the Supernaturals I have come to know and care about until my dying breath. And he brought up Amy like I knew he would, and then Crowley, but that's another story entirely...

When I had had my fill of all his narrow-minded partiality, I told Dean to go cool off and at least think about what I said, but knowing him, he's probably going to go back to Dad, tattle his ass off, and then both of them come back to rain their disapproval upon me. I could care less. I mean I care about Dean, I really do, and Dad too for that matter, but what they're not understanding is that these are people and their livelihoods they are dealing with. They are singular. They are respectively one being capable of thoughts, feelings, and ideas of their own.

I want nothing more than to believe that they are also capable of coexistence. I'm just tired of all the fighting, the judgment, the persecution like we have some kind of right as Hunters to decide who lives and who dies. Don't get me wrong, I'll continue Hunting, but I have to live with each kill on my conscience and I'm not ready to deal a bad hand.