Title: Out of Touch
Author: alakewood
Warnings: None, really. Pre-series. Sam/Jess.
Rating: PG
Word Count: 1400+
Summary: A snippet of Sam's life with Jessica nearly a year prior to the pilot wherein he angsts over the lack of communication between himself and Dean and Jessica attempts to help them reconnect.
Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing.

oxoxo

Jessica slipped her arm through Sam's as they stood next to the baggage carousel, waiting for their luggage, amidst a crowd of other holiday travelers. "You okay? You seem like you're somewhere else."

Sam adjusted the strap of his carry-on on his other shoulder and glanced down at his girlfriend. The smile he offered her was weak at best. "Yeah. Just jet lag, I think."

She grinned up at him. "You're such a horrible liar, Sam Winchester. How are you ever gonna be a successful lawyer?" She slid her hand into Sam's and squeezed it.

"I guess I'll just have to be an honest lawyer."

"Isn't that an oxymoron?"

"You're an oxymoron," he retorted, dropping a kiss to her forehead and reaching for their bags as they fell from the chute into the carousel.

oxo

"I've gotta warn you about my uncle Dan," Jessica began, raising her voice slightly so Sam could hear her out in the bedroom, as she carefully applied mascara, "but he's gonna be all over you tonight. Lot's of questions." When Sam didn't acknowledge her, she poked her head out of the bathroom door. "Hey, spaceman."

Sam tore his gaze from the cell phone in his hand and looked up at Jessica where she stood in the doorway in a conservative knee-length red dress with her curls tousled attractively. "Sorry. What did you say?"

She crossed the short distance between them and ran her fingers through his hair. "What's going on, Sam?"

Sam sighed. "It's been almost four years since the last time I talked to Dean," he said, glancing back down at his cell. "I've never called him. Not once."

"He's never called you, either."

Sam shook his head. "He did. A couple of times. But I never answered."

Jessica took a seat beside Sam on the edge of the mattress. "When?"

"My birthday, freshman year. One other time after that. I'm pretty sure he was drunk both times. Couldn't understand half of what he was saying in his messages."

"You should call him."

"What if he doesn't answer?"

"Then you can't say you didn't try." She kissed his temple as she stood, letting the hand cupping his jaw linger for a moment. "Just think about it over dinner, okay? It's still pretty earlier out there – you've got plenty of time to call."

Sam didn't want to tell her that there was slim to no chance that Dean was still in California – it wasn't like Dean to stick around when things got bad. But he nodded and pressed a kiss to the palm of her hand. "Okay."

But, after dinner, and one too many scotches with Uncle Danny – as he was implored to call Jessica's easily won-over relative – when he called the number saved in his phone under Dean's name, all he got was a message stating, "The number you have dialed is no longer in service."

oxo

Sam and Jessica returned to Palo Alto two days after New Year's. There was a page at the back of his journal that was listed with the various cell phone numbers Dean had had while Sam was still in high school. Every single one was either disconnected or belonged to somebody else. "What if something happened to him?" he asked Jessica once he'd finished calling all the numbers.

"I'm sure he's fine, Sam. He probably just got a new number."

But Sam couldn't be so certain.

oxo

Jessica knew Dean's birthday was coming up soon – it was the same day as hers, after all – so she made it her mission to track him down (or, at least, his new number). It would be as much of a gift to Sam as it would be to herself, Sam finally able to talk to his estranged brother on his brother's birthday.

However, the lady at the Verizon Wireless store proved to be unsympathetic. "I'm sorry, ma'am, but I cannot give out that information to you."

"Look, my fiance hasn't talked to his brother in four years," she said, reciting the first lie of her embellished story. "We're getting ready to graduate this spring and then we'll be moving to the east coast. All I want is a number."

"I cannot help you."

Jessica snatched her purse up off the counter. "Thanks a lot." Bitch, she thought, but didn't say.

She was half-way to her car when she heard someone calling, "Miss, excuse me! Miss!"

There wasn't anybody else in the parking lot but her, so she stopped and turned.

"Hi. I overheard you in there. I think I might be able to help you. Come back tomorrow afternoon, Michele won't be working."

So Jessica returned to the Verizon store the following afternoon and found the girl that had approached her the previous day in the parking lot. "You think you can help me track him down?"

oxo

A few weeks later, Jessica got a phone call from her contact and co-conspirator at Verizon – she'd been unable to track anything down. "The account attached to the number you gave me was closed when the number was disconnected. That was approximately three years ago upon the customer's request. There was only one other account opened with the same credit card and information a few months later, but that account was canceled after two months."

"Thanks for your help."

"Jess?" Sam asked from the doorway between the kitchen and living room. "Hey. You're not allowed to be sad on your birthday. What's going on?"

Jessica closed her cell phone and tossed it onto the couch beside her. "Nothing." She sighed. "I tried to track down your brother. But I couldn't find him."

Sam walked over to her and sat on the arm of the couch. "Dean's the kind of guy that if he doesn't want to be found, you won't find him. It means a lot that you'd try though."

"It's just that...I don't know what I'd do without my family or without you. And I know that you don't quite see eye-to-eye with your brother, or your dad, but...I don't know. I just really wanted to give the possibility of...being a family with them again back to you."

Sam stood and took Jessica's hands and pulled her up from the couch. "Right now, you are all that I need."

"I know, but-"

"No buts. I'm not that difficult to track down if Dean decides he wants to see me or speak to me again. If it's meant to happen, it will. So, again, thank you for trying. But I've got us reservations at Osteria."

oxoxo

It was Dean's twenty-sixth birthday and, just as the three years past, his gift to himself was seeing Sam. He was parked outside of Sam's apartment building, cell phone in hand, prepared to call, but he could never find it in himself to dial the numbers again. Couldn't find it in himself to just walk up to his door and say, 'Hey. Long time, no see. What've you been up to? How's school?'

It would never be that easy. And there was no way to take it all back. He would, if there was a way.

But he was content to sit outside in the dim interior of the Impala as the streetlights came on and watch the shadows move around in the apartment windows. When the windows went dark and Sam and his girlfriend left the building arm-in-arm a few minutes later, Dean knew it was time for him to leave as well.

No matter where Sam went, Dean would always be there to check in on him, but he would always leave when that job was done. He'd promised his dad that he would look out for his brother and he kept his promises.

When Sam and his girl were half-way down the block, Dean turned the key in the ignition, eyes still on his brother, and the engine roared to life. As he drove away, he imagined Sam recognizing the familiar sound of the car's engine and running after him. Imagined the argument that would follow and how easily they'd make up. But this was reality and Sam didn't recognize the engine, didn't turn around, and they'd never act out the scene in Dean's mind.

If it was meant to happen, it would happen. But Dean didn't see it happening any time soon.