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Hey, Sam. Hunt's over. Hope you're feeling better. I'm downstairs at the diner if you're up for some coffee. Second table by the window…
Hey, Sam. Still at the library – there's a really hot chick two tables down, I think I'm about to get her phone number. Anyway, I'm pretty sure I found something. A guy called Jacob Durham died in that old warehouse; he's probably the one haunting the place. And get this…
Hey, Sam. I'm tired of waking up and finding you gone, man. I don't care that you left a note. If you need to read so badly, check your books out and bring them back to the motel. Don't go running off the second the library opens…
Hey, Sam. I won't be back tonight. You can probably guess why. I left the Impala out front though, in case you decide you need an early breakfast or something. Alice will drop me off at the motel tomorrow and then we can get going…
Hey, Sam. You gonna spend your whole life doing research? Found a diner that's actually open at this time of night – I'm coming to pick you up – and no, I don't care if you're not done reading yet…
Hey, Sam. We're out of shaving cream. Pick some up, will you?
Hey, Sam. You were right. Should have waited for you. I – I need you to come pick me up. Don't think I can drive…
That last year, Sam saved every voicemail he got from Dean.
Save, save, save.
If only it were that easy.
It's just a message, he tried to tell himself. It's not going to change anything.
He never quite believed himself. Thought maybe that was a good thing too. If he didn't believe himself about this, something that was obvious and logical and right in front of his eyes, then he didn't have to believe himself about anything.
Whatever he was trying to do (not jinx himself, add a bit of luck, have hope), it didn't work.
Still, he kept the voicemails.
And afterwards, when things got really bad, he would pull out his phone.
In the car, in a room, at the bar. Wherever he was. Whatever he was doing. Whenever he needed it.
He'd pull it out.
Press it to his ear.
And let himself pretend, for a moment, that everything was just the way it used to be.