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Sam hated his birthday. And you couldn’t really blame him.
The first real birthday he experienced was Dean’s fifth, less than three months after Mary’s murder. John had bought Dean a Twinkie and placed a candle in it. Dean’s face went red with the concentration he put into his wish before blowing out the flame. The disappointment when he opened his eyes was unmissable, but he plastered a grin back on for his family.
Later that night, as Dean cuddled up to his little brother, he apologised that his wish wasn’t strong enough to bring their Mommy back. Though Sam was too young to remember Dean’s words or his crying, the general moroseness of the day was something Sam’s subconscious never forgot.
Sam’s first birthday was also the six-month anniversary of Mary’s death. By midday, John was in a drunken stupor. Grabbing the toddler as he waddled past him, John hugged him close, not realising how tight his hold was until little Sammy shrieked in pain. Startled, John dropped him, causing Sam to land in a painful heap on the floor.
Realising his mistake, John tried to pick his youngest back up, but Sam skittered away in fear before running to his brother for comfort. And John walked out the door, not returning for two days.
As time passed, being on the road allowed the family to ignore their birthdays mostly. When John was gone, the boys would mark one another’s birthday quietly with a favourite candy bar or comic book left somewhere for the other to find. A quick hug from Sam or a hair scruff from Dean. Whether their father even remembered, neither knew or particularly cared.
However, things seemed to change from the moment Sam learned the truth about his family, and whether the Winchesters celebrated Sam's birthday or not, it seemed like the supernatural world was determined to mark the occasion one way or another.
The day Sam turned 11, he was snatched by a coven of witches. One that - of course - was secretly led by his favourite teacher too. Upon discovering it was his birthday, Miss Potter asked him to stay behind at the end of the day. When his classmates left, she surprised him with a homemade cupcake. Not wanting to hurt her feelings, Sam ate it, ignoring the slightly off-taste of the icing. As the room began to swim, Sam understood what Dean meant about his trusting nature getting him into trouble.
Next thing he knew, Sam was tied to altar in just his underwear, and his teacher was painting intricate patterns onto his skin. Pulling at his bonds were useless and being gagged meant he couldn’t even attempt to talk his way out. He had little choice but to lie there helpless as bowls were placed on the floor, at the end of each limb. The four other witches took a limb each, cutting him so that he would bleed out slowly over the next few days. Sam knew this because it was his dad’s current case. However, Dad and Dean had followed the now obviously false trail out of town which meant no one would even know he was missing until it was too late. He closed his eyes, willing himself to be brave like his family, but seeing no reason to stay strong, Sam allowed himself to whimper weakly into his gag. He was never going to see his family again. He would die here, cold, and alone like the other children that had gone missing.
Sam was broken from his thoughts by a loud bang and something warm, sticky, and wet, spraying over him before a crushing weight landed on his chest, making it impossible to breathe. Panting, he screwed his eyes tighter as three more booms happened in quick succession.
Whatever was crushing him was shoved off him, replaced by grabbing hands. Despite a concerted effort, the recent lack of oxygen coupled with the cruelly tight ropes made his struggles to escape feeble at best.
The hands suddenly left, only for one to return, running its fingers through his hair. Soothed by the touch his subconscious would recognise anywhere, Sam’s mind cleared enough to hear that his brother was saying his name. Braving it, he opened his eyes and met the green ones staring back.
As John loosened the ropes, Dean helped his brother to sit up and removed his gag, allowing Sam to rasp ‘Dean, I really hate birthdays’.
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Sam’s twelfth birthday, he broke his ankle running away from a werewolf.
Sam’s thirteenth birthday, a poltergeist tossed him out of a second storey window and he spent the night in hospital.
Sam’s fourteenth birthday, he was nearly drowned by a kelpie.
Sam’s fifteenth birthday, well, you get the idea.
When he got to Stanford, things finally changed. He even had some fun on his birthday. But then Jess died, and as if fate decided it really had to make up for lost time, Sam was murdered by Jake on the eve of his 24th birthday, meaning Dean was dragged to Hell on Sam’s 25th.
Sam’s 26th saw him accidentally raising the Devil.
On his 27th, he dove into the pit. Something Lucifer made sure they celebrated in new and evermore inventive ways for the next 180 years.
His soulless body spent it’s 28th birthday hunting. Whether it was monsters or a good time, Sam didn’t know, and didn’t care to find out.
Ecstatic over his brother’s return from the pit, Dean decided that Sam deserved to have his birthday celebrated every year. Unfortunately, something about his 29th birthday celebrations caused a crack in Sam’s wall and his worst seizure yet. When he finally came round, he realised he was in his bed, in different clothes to the ones he had been wearing. Shamed by both the memories and the fact his brother had clearly had to clean him up after his seizure, Sam stayed there for a week, making no noise except when he cried or screamed in his sleep.
The next time someone celebrated his birthday, it was Amelia. He knew she meant well, hiding from him as a surprise, but having watched his brother, and best friend explode into thin air less than a year before, hide and seek was a lot less fun than she thought. Sam forced a smile as he blew out the candles. He even made a wish that Dean was happy in Heaven – Crowley had sworn he wasn’t in Hell so where else could Dean be?
Once Dean returned from Purgatory, it felt like there were never ending crises and no time to celebrate even if they wanted to, so once again birthdays were ignored.
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When Jack learned about birthdays from a film, Sam promised him that he could have a party in the bunker with all their hunter friends. Of course, Jack died before that could happen, and Sam never told Dean what he’d been planning, even after Jack returned to them.
So, when Jack ran into Sam’s room, eagerly chattering that Mrs Butter’s had agreed to throwing a birthday party complete with cake and balloons, Sam happily followed him down the hall, uplifted by his kid’s excitement. What he didn’t expect, was to be led to the top of the table, or to see his name on the cake.
Sam stopped short before taking a step back. He felt himself go cold as his breath caught in his chest.
Dean and Cas stood awkwardly nearby, waiting to help minimise the fall out.
Jack didn’t understand everyone’s sudden mood change. ‘Sam. Did I get it wrong? Is it the icing? Do you want a different cake?’ When Sam continued to stand there in shocked silence, Jack slumped into himself and whispered ‘I’m sorry.’ The room almost seemed to deflate along with Jack’s enthusiasm.
Sam mentally shook himself. Jack needed this win, and Sam was determined to give him it, so Sam plastered on a big smile and stepped forward again.
‘Jack it’s great, I was just taken by surprise is all. I love it, thank you.’
Sam's front worked and Jack grabbed him into an almost bone crushing hug. Sam took his place at the head of the table whilst Jack snatched a birthday headband from the table, not too delicately placing it on Sam’s head.
By the time everyone had finished singing Happy Birthday, Sam’s fake smile had melted into a more honest look of contentment. Determined to keep his brother in higher spirits, Dean played the fool with Mrs Butters, knowing how secretly entertained Sam was by his childish behaviour.
And that night, Sam went to bed having had a genuinely happy birthday for the first time in decades (or, more accurately, centuries but he wasn’t going to dwell on that and ruin his mood).
Even when things went south with Mrs Butters and after Jack left them to be the new God, Sam and Dean continued to celebrate their birthdays with more effort. Something that Sam built on with DJ, who he made sure always got thoroughly spoilt on his birthdays, though DJ never understood why his dad made him wear that dumb headband, even as a teenager.