Sam Winchester

All his life, Sam had just wanted normal. Now he had mostly normal, if you didn't count his mother returning from the dead, two women feeding on him, and an Inn in the middle of nowhere that periodically hooked up with some other nowhere, and he was bored out of his goddamned mind.

Nothing against the women in his life. His sex life had never been better. And getting to know Mom was pretty great. But he'd still kill for something worthwhile to do. He'd even finally broken down and properly learned his Latin from the Wheelock's he'd picked up in Bonesville.

He'd run out of things to teach himself immediately, so he went for a run and found the valley where he and Bo sometimes sparred filled with a bunch of lightning charred palo verde trees. His frustration at the pointlessness of it all bubbled over. His anger flared and one of the trees exploded into ash.

Nothing like that had happened since Dean left and even that had been mild. Because it was something to teach himself, he tried to do it again. By the time the Bo found him, half the trees were dust and he was covered in streaks of soot.