Archive of Our Own ^beta

Charlie fell back onto her bed with a sigh, content as ever. Okay, life was good, she’ll admit it. She had found a very loving new family, completed her Star Wars action figure collection, AND had recovered her old laptop- life was just amazing for the young woman, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Speaking of her laptop, she thought sitting up, weren’t there old files from her teen years on that thing? Lord, her teen years. A wave of cringe rolled over her, she was such a wreck back then. The amount of hours she spent scrolling through newsletters and fan-wikis, desperate to escape reality, the all-nighters spent sobbing over her favorite fictional character dying, or hell, even writing fanfiction- what? If the writers weren’t gonna make her favorite ship canon, she had to take matters into her own hands.

Practically flinging the old laptop open, she typed in her old password, Pr1nc3ssL314l0v3r77- Yes, it WAS cringy as hell, but nobody ever managed to get into her laptop, not even her closest friends, so it worked. She cringed again at the site of her wallpaper, Hailey Williams on stage, in a short skirt. Yikes, she had been down bad for the singer. Not that there was anything wrong with having a celebrity crush, but sheesh, she was obsessed with Hailey for a while.

Did she still have all those videos of the old concert saved? Charlie was lucky enough to be able to see Paramore live once, and it was one of the BEST nights of her entire life, even to this day. She double-clicked on a file named Hailey_Paramore_OHMYGOD.mp4 and instantly got a blast from the past.

The video quality wasn’t the best, and the audio sounded like someone was grinding a microphone against a cheese grater, but it was alright, she could easily tell what song was being performed, her all time favorite, Misery Business. An absolute classic. Her eyes lit up the moment Hailey moved into the frame.

“I’m in the business of misery, let’s take it from the top.”

Charlie began to hum along, a soft grin gently resting on her face. Her head swayed along to the fast punk rhythm, turning up the volume to one-hundred percent. “I never meant to brag, but I got him where I wanted now.” The red-head began to sing along, softly at first, the volume of her voice steadily increasing the more she got into it.

Five minutes later, she had pulled up her old illegal downloaded MP3 file of Riot!, and was dancing without a care, belting the lyrics to each song as if her life depended on it.

“THAT’S WHAT YOU GET WHEN YOU LET YOUR HEART WIN, WO- oh.” She choked mid-lyric, freezing as she realized she wasn’t alone. Apparently, Sam had entered her bedroom at some point, and was now standing in the doorway with a grin on his face, arms crossed in amusement as he leaned against the door frame, watching Charlie dance and sing like an idiot.

“Oh, please. Ignore me, continue as you were.” He teased, raising his hands in defense. 

“At least close the friggin door-!” Charlie croaked out in embarrassment, her face almost as red as her hair. Sam obliged, and closed the door swiftly, laughing in the process.  “Now, as you were.”

“I can’t just dance with someone watching, that- that's-!” She complained before burying her head in her small hands. “Kill me now.” She groaned.

“Hey, I used to love Paramore whenever I was a kid.” Sam confessed. “But you didn’t hear it from me, last time I mentioned liking Paramore, Dean never let me hear the end of it- Fuckin’ hypocrite, I’ve seen him jam to Taylor Swift before.” The tall man added with a scoff, crossing his arms again and shaking his head in dramatic disappointment.

Charlie lifted her head from her sweaty hands. “Wait- YOU? A PARAMORE fan?” She slid her hands down to her hips, laughing. “No offense, but you’ve always seemed more of an early Fall Out Boy kind of guy, not Paramore.”

“Fall Out Boy is good, I will admit- that one song, ‘Dance, Dance’? God, I played the song so much, I must've annoyed the shit out of Dean.” He huffed out a soft laugh, tucking a loose strand of his chestnut hair behind an ear. Clearing his throat, Sam resumed the amusing conversation. “So, what’s your favorite song by Paramore?”

“Probably Misery Business or Emergency- you?”

“Hmm.. I’d say Ignorance, first song I heard by them, got me hooked.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard of it before, honestly- I kinda fell out of loop with their stuff in ‘08.”, Charlie replied, taking a seat on her bed and searching for the song.

“Really? Wow, kinda bit of a shocker.”

Charlie shrugged. “You move on from everything at some point, I guess.”

Sam stood still for a moment, before speaking up. “Yeah, yeah I guess you’re right.” He replied thoughtfully, it was true, no matter how much you love something, there will come a day where you move on, you’ll always love it, sure, but it doesn’t cloud your thoughts constantly, it becomes another normal interest, and you’ll  forever cherish the memories it gave you.

“Any other bands you like from that time period?” He asked, his interest completely piqued, taking a seat beside Charlie on her bed- JESUS, her comforter was soft as FUCK.

“More like what bands didn’t I like- I was totally head over heels for all of them, you name it, I listened to ‘em.”

“Thirty Seconds to Mars?”

“Yep.”

“Dashboard Confessional?”

“Yes sir.”

“The Killers?”

“Oh my God, I used to be so obsessed with them-”

“Green Day?”

“Dude.” She unzipped her brown jacket, revealing an old, worn out black shirt that read American Idiot!, with the signature logo and everything. “Like I said, you name it, I listened to ‘em.”

“Wow.” Sam breathed, half-genuinely shocked. “Crazy.” He crossed his legs, smiling into his lap.

“I have an old bootleg of a Fall Out Boy concert from… ‘06. Wanna watch?” Charlie asked, turning over to him, and shuffling the laptop to where it was between the two.

“Oh, you know it.” He scooted closer to her, their legs practically resting against each other, excitement pumping through his veins. Charlie gently tapped the play button, and the show began. They opened with their most popular song at the time, 'Sugar We’re Goin’ Down Swingin’'.

“I used to have such a crush on Pete Wentz-” Sam half-mumbled, his face heating up whenever the bassist entered the frame. Old habits die hard.

“Called it.”

“Oh, shut up-”

“No can do, Winchester.”

The two spent the rest of the night watching old bootlegs and singing along to their favorite songs, their throats aching from all the screaming and singing by the end of it all, but it was worth it. They both dozed off to an old My Chem concert from ‘09, Charlie’s head resting on Sam’s shoulder, and Sam’s head resting atop Charlie’s. They woke up to discover they were practically laying on each other, and their backs were sore as hell, but that didn’t matter. This wouldn’t be the last time they would relive their younger years together, and they wouldn’t have it any other way