reuinion//SAM

Sam normally did the research regarding a case file, but this time it had been subjected to a juvenile hand game of rock paper and scissors. He could not deny, however, his pleasure with the results. For once Dean would be trapped in the musty confines of some small town library, as he found ways to occupy his time. So he left the tight motel room and found himself wandering across the town that was called Mystic Falls.


No matter how much he cared about his older brother, Sam could not spend an extended period of time in a crappy motel room with only one other person for company without growing agitated. Without any general idea of where he was planning on going, Sam walked. Perhaps it was a dangerous choice to make, but there was something a little freeing about heading out of town. He was incredibly cautious anyway, holy water tucked into the pockets of his clothing, a gun tucked in the back of his pants and a silver knife in the back of his shoe.


It wasn't long until the signs pointed towards a lake and Sam followed them. He'd grown even more cautious over the years and scouting out locations of a town seemed to be a good idea before a hunt. Even more if the creatures haunting the town,(if there was something haunting the small town) were actually vampires.


The lake water glistened tranquilly, untouched by the gentle breezes that ruffled his hair. It had grown longer recently and Sam didn't see the point in wasting hard earned money in order to have it grow out once more. No longer was he the academic with a scholarship still standing at Stanford. He had lost that long ago. He would always have hope that it could be returned to him somehow, no matter how unlikely the chances.


Sam wasn't alone on the path surrounding the lake, as it was a rather tranquil Saturday afternoon with mild weather. His first reaction was to pay no attention to the woman with the wavy blonde hair. Upon a closer look, Sam's heart tightened and stalled for one terrifying second that felt like an hour.


Jessica. Memories skipped through his head filling his chest with a physical reaction to the angst. Believing that was really her could be damning. Once he had seen her on a curb, shortly after her death, and the memory of Lucifer disguising himself in her wonderful form was too much for him.


Instinctively, one hand reached to grasp the shape of the gun tucked into his pants, but inhaled a large gust of oxygen.

"Jessica?



The hope was as clear as day on his face. Tentatively, he leaned forward in order to assure himself that he was not hallucinating.

Her tragic demise had taken place over five years ago and Sam was still doing his best to move forward with his life. Normalcy had been lost when the yellow eyed demon had slaughtered her with a fire of similarity to the one that murdered Mary Winchester. Hope for a normal life had died with her, along with his prowess with law. Supernatural creatures often feigned to be a loved one, hence his doubt. However, part of Sam's resolve that had built over the years and with the past events crumbled, leaving behind the fresh faced twenty two year old he had once been.

A cheeky grin of his own appeared when her smile lit up the world in front of him. She was not the spirit he had seen shortly after the case with a variation of bloody mary,she wasn't the Jessica who had taunted him with his inner guilt over her death. He trusted his own instincts, this was no imposter.

"Yes, it's me," He admitted.

Fingers uncoiled their grip on the gun, resting the jacket back down over the hidden weapon.

"I..," Sam stammered, struggling to find the words that would define this moment, words that would fit all of what he wanted to say.

He wanted to tell her how much he'd missed her, ask her all the cliche questions of how she was back on Earth, but all of that could wait.

"I missed you."

Perhaps he was not the same as he had been when they had been together. Five years was a long time, he'd died twice, anyone else would have killed themselves rather than go through the things that he had gone through.

Was he even the same Sam Winchester that had fallen in love with Jessica Moore on the Stanford campus? More importantly, how had he found her in the middle of a small town in Virgina?

As surprised as he was that Jessica was alive, he shouldn't have been. Not considering who else he had recently run into who had been dead for much longer than Jess had. His whole walk had been to process the thoughts that ran through his head, and he only ended up with more questions.

Upon coming into contact with his mother again, Sam had a bittersweet mix of emotions. He had been six months old when the fire occurred, he had never had a chance to meet her.Memories of Jessica were more fresh, as was the scar of her death. If Dean had not carried him out of the flames for the second time in their life, Sam would have died in a futile attempt to save her. She wasn't in hell, she wasn't bursting into flames and thus far she was not a demon or a fallen angel disguised as the woman he still loved. Over the years he had moved on. The love had never faded and now that she was standing before him Sam realized how much he had missed her over the years. Normalcy was represented in her thin frame and the curl of her hair. Inadvertently, or maybe even directly, her death had caused him to lose all chances of having a normal life.

Absentmindedly, Sam grazed his fingers over the scar on his palm from the days of his hallucinations. It seemed real enough, but at this point it was a reflex. It would not have worked anymore anyway. Part of him wanted to touch her, but he was unsure. It had been a long time and he was practically frightened that as soon as he touched her she would fade away like a mist. That it was all a dream. He had watched her die, there was no way...

There was no way she could step even closer to him.

"I..I watched you die," He finally choked out, too overcome with emotion to say anything more coherent other than the obvious that was on his mind. "This can't be..."

He missed her to the point where it hurt, like stabs of fire and ice in his chest at the same time. But there was no way she could be here.

Shock, denial. Two of the seven symptoms of grief.

"You can ask anything you want to," Sam responded.

There were things that he should have told her long ago, Sam realized. He had lied to her for the entire time that they had been dating. Then one more hunting trip had killed her.

"I don't believe it either, Jess," Sam admitted, finally giving into temptation and pulling her into an embrace.

He held her for long enough to ensure himself that she was in his arms. That it was human flesh and blood beating underneath his finger tips. And indeed it was. Then he let her go, in time to answer her first question. It was one that he could answer without feeling guilt for all the lies he had told.

"Dean and I were looking for a friend. What are you doing here?"

The death of Jessica Moore had begun a cataclysm of events for the Winchester brothers. He had fully intended to arrive back at Stanford after the defeat of the yellow eyed demon, but then there had been a marker on his older brother. Unfortunate circumstance after unfortunate circumstance had prevented his return to college, to follow the dream he'd had since high school. Eventually he had come to accept that he would never be able to be normal. It was something that he should have realized when he had considered going to Stanford on his full ride, even. If he had been able to Sam would have gone back to that exact moment and found a way to pry her body off the ceiling. Although she was probably dead before the fire started.


Tears formed in his eyes when she spoke. He had blamed himself for her death, but there was no reason for the victim to apologize for what happened to her. If anyone were to blame for her death it was him as he didn't even fight to free her from the forces that trapped her on the ceiling above his bed.


"You shouldn't to be sorry," He said, watching her carefully.


"You couldn't have done anything," He added, hands entering the warmth of his pockets from the frigid air.


Truth be told, even if this had been a dream, Sam wouldn't have cared. It was a moment he had yearned for years, thirsted for the company of the people whom he had lost. His mother had recently shown herself to be alive,(although her company was not as great as would have been expected) and he did not even want to consider that a foul evil might be at work in their rivials.


"It doesn't matter how you got here as long as you're here," Sam breathed, embracing her.


"Interesting," was the only response he could manage when she gesutred towards the forest that she had woken up in along with a nod.


He would have thought she had woken up in her grave as Dean had, but he seemed to be mistaken. Gears began to turn in his head, finally beginning to feel as if something was up with the fact that two of his dead loved ones had returned from beyond the grave.


Then came a pivotal choice. Did he lie to her and say that he was alright? By now he could no longer keep up the facade of not being a hunter, and she had returned from the dead therefore increasing her awareness of the supernatural world around her.


"I've been better," He finally said with a grim smile.

The wear and tear over the years had changed Sam. A metamorphosis. Except his caterpillar form had been the college student he once was, full of light and hope. The butterfly felt more like some horrible, ugly creature who was not meant for this world. There was still some part of him that was still the caterpillar, lost and alone, trying to crawl back into the days where he had never known he had demon blood flowing through his veins. Jessica brought all the nostalgia back, all of the hopes and dreams twitching in his heart like a case of ghost sickness.

Her apologies made it worse. His emotions stepped off the edge. He rubbed away his tears. Crying made him feel weak after living for so long with two macho men, but the tears could not be stopped. Sam Winchester was an emotional being, made of compassion and heart. Perhaps that was his strength.

"Of course you didn't, none of it was your fault."

Azazel had ruined Sam's life in more ways than inserting Demon blood into his veins and killing his mother. Jessica had been affected too and Sam thanked whatever force had brought her back to the point where he might drop down and pray right now. Whenever tears in the fabric of his faith began to surface, there was always some sign that kept him fighting.

Her concern was all the more horrifying, but beautiful in some way.

"Are you sure? It's not the happiest story, or the shortest," He questioned her.

Relationships did not work well with hunters, Sam knew that as well as anyone. Ruby and Madison were two other casualties to add to the list.

He brushed the remaining tears out of the way and reached for her hand, for some sort of secondary assurance that she was real.