Disclaimer: Not mine. Not even the plot is.
A/N: This is a fic for ScaredofPennies for the Summer Secret Santa Fic Exchange at SFTCOL(AR)S. I really hope she likes it, and I am sorry that it is a little late.
I also want to say thank you to my wonderful beta Devan (Ibelieveinsam) because I couldn't have done this fic without her help and support.
A big thank you to Dawn as well, and everyone else who has been there in the process of this fic. :)
Through Fire
When all hope is lost an angel sings…
Chapter 1
The fire seemed as if it would last for the rest of the night, and then some more.
Just an hour ago Dean had taken Sam to a motel, not too far from where he had started to build a home with Jessica.
But once Sam got there, all he could bring himself to do was sit down, his eyes fastened on something that wasn't there, but somewhere very far away. In the end he'd asked Dean to take him back, because he couldn't sit there. He felt too lost sitting there.
Now, staring at the very same fire that had taken away his girlfriend, he thought the difference wasn't noticeable. The fire was still massive, a vast cloud of gold and angry red dancing together. If Sam stared long enough he thought he could see dark figures in it, but maybe that was just his mind telling him he shouldn't be staring too long.
What he knew was that when there was a fire as great as this one, the firemen couldn't do much until it started to burn down. But now he thought he could detect how it slowly started to transform into something smaller. Yet he stood rooted to the ground, his gaze never leaving the thing that had come to symbolize destruction in their family, but now also in the center of Sam's life.
Dean was not far away. He could hear the strength of his voice carrying all the way to him from where he was standing, talking to one of the firemen. Out of the corner of his eye, Sam could see Dean move towards him, his eyes never leaving him.
It didn't matter though. Nothing seemed to matter anymore. Sam had centered his life around Jess, the girl with the smile that could just ignite a glow deep within him, something he wasn't even aware he had. But now it was gone, just like a candle going out, leaving everything in deep darkness.
"Sam, come on." Dean hovered somewhere behind his shoulder. "Let's get out of here."
Sam didn't move.
"We can come back tomorrow and see..."
Turning around to face his brother, Sam met Dean's gaze for the first time since the fire had started. "And see what?" When he tried to search Dean's eyes for some kind of answer he could only see a hesitancy there, mixed with a softness.
"To see what's left," Dean said, his voice gentle. He touched Sam's shoulder lightly. "Come on, Sammy."
There's nothing left, Sam thought. It was slowly and painfully burning away in front of him. It was turning into something manageable for the firemen, but it wasn't what Sam could see. All he could see were the ruins of a life he had barely even started.
Dean's hand didn't move, and with one last look at the remains of the place he'd shared with Jess, Sam allowed himself to be guided to the Impala.
The feel of leather beneath him gave Sam some sense of a familiar comfort. But when he felt his pocket, his hand closed around his phone, gripping it tightly. Jess had always played around with the thing, taking pictures when he didn't notice. Now it was just a cold bit of metal, a reminder that she wasn't there anymore.
After Dean shut his door he could almost feel his eyes burning on him, but Sam was just staring straight ahead, not making eye contact. The motor started and they drove away from all the fire trucks, leaving behind pictures of water and blackness.
When Dean cut off the engine Sam felt it more than heard it. They'd stopped in front of that building he'd seen hours ago. In the front of the building two lights were burning behind cracked glass. The dark doors were illuminated, but next to the green surrounding them, the doors still seemed like they were black holes just waiting for someone to fall into them.
The door handle in front of him seemed like it was miles away. Sam felt like he had forgotten all his skills about how to open it.
Everything came into vivid blurred colours, leaving him dizzy and not knowing what to do. All he could do was sit there and stare right in front of him, almost hoping that the black holes would swallow him, just like the fire had swallowed Jess. There was already a dark, black hole in his heart where Jess was supposed to be, and for every minute that passed it was just getting bigger and bigger.
As Dean opened his door he barely noticed him, he was too lost in the thoughts of what might have happened had Dean not been there. Would he had burned just like Jess? Would he still have felt as if his heart had been ripped out of his chest, and then slowly burnt leaving it charred and broken? Sam didn't know, yet he couldn't help wondering if it would have been better that way.
"Sam." Dean had opened his door. "Come on, we need to go inside." When nothing seemed to be happening, he helped Sam get out. He stumbled before straightening up.
Dean was never far behind him, as Sam led the way up the stairs. It was almost as if he was expecting Sam to fall at any second, but Sam couldn't even bring himself to care. It took too much energy out of him and exhaustion was already starting to fall over him.
The walls of their room were exactly the same as before, but something just didn't seem right. Maybe it was the fact that he had been watching the colors of yellow and red for so long that he no longer could see the difference. Or maybe it was the fact that everything red started to transform into crimson blood, that made him look away from the white wallpaper with vivid red slashes attached to it. It started to give him shivers, a cold chill coming in from his clothes creeping into his skin.
"How long are we planning on staying here?" Sam asked, trying to sound casual.
Dean stopped doing whatever it was he was doing, and looked at Sam. "Depends on how long we need to stay."
If Dean had said that they had to leave right this moment, Sam wouldn't have objected. Everything was reminding him of Jess, of what happened and what part he had in why it even happened. But he also knew that he needed to stay to sort out everything. If there was something left of her, Sam wanted to save it, to hang onto every memory they had shared.
So he accepted Dean's answer and sat down on his bed. "I have to find the thing that killed her, Dean," Sam said fiercely. "I just have to."
It was the only thing that kept him going. It gave him something to focus on, something he had to do to honor her memory. Something he could do to show her that he loved her with every part of him, and that he never wanted her to get hurt because of him.
"We will, Sam." Dean sounded convinced that they would, but his voice was veiled with worry at the same time.
"We need to find Dad too," Sam said urgently.
"Yeah, I know we do, Sam."
"I wish he'd call, or leave a message. Anything to let us know," Sam muttered, frustration edged in his voice.
He couldn't help wondering why exactly his dad had left. Was it because he was close to finding the thing that killed their mom, or was it something completely different? Sam was almost aching to know. He needed to know.
"He did leave me a message, remember?" Dean smirked, trying to get something resembling a smile out of Sam.
It didn't work.
"Yeah." Sam was tuning out Dean's voice without even realizing it. It had happened ever since he'd seen Jess on the ceiling in a sky of flames.
Sam's mind kept wandering somewhere else because he was trying to go over everything that might have told him that his girlfriend had been in danger.
What he found only made him more convinced. Convinced that it wasn't just an accident, or a weird occurrence of the supernatural variety. It was the very same thing that took away his mother, and Sam was now thinking about the two women that had to die to protect him. Anyone with a brain could see that connection.
"We should get some rest."
Sam wasn't slow on picking up how we really meant you. But it didn't matter, nothing seemed to matter anymore.
Falling into the bed he was sitting on, Sam closed his eyes.
The wallpaper seemed to have etched itself on the back of his eyelids, like a picture someone had put there. But the red turned rapidly into the slashes Jess had had on her stomach, blood dripping onto Sam. Before the flames took her away, Sam was sure he heard her speak his name.
He bolted up as if he'd been burnt by the very same fire, but he slowly realized that he was in a motel room, and there was no fire in the room. Still, he couldn't stop looking up there, as if he was expecting the room would fill with flames.
"Sammy." Dean was beside him instantly. "Hey, it was just a dream." He was grabbing Sam's arms so he could look into his eyes.
Breathlessly, Sam looked up into clouded green eyes. "No," he whispered. "It wasn't."
Every time he tried to close his eyes, she was there, burning.
Sam finally realized that there was no one else to blame. There was just that sound not louder than a whisper, that feeling stronger than anything he'd experienced, and that knowledge that the moment he had let himself love someone, the sky had started to fall down.
oooOOOooo
Dean closed his eyes, listening to the sound of water filling the tub from the bathroom.
It had taken a while, but in the end Sam had believed him when Dean had convinced him that he'd feel better when his body could relax.
When Dean received the short cryptic message from his dad, he didn't know which danger he was talking about. He just knew that this was his chance to get his family to stand together, united, maybe even conquer the danger as a family.
The main reason he'd come to get Sam was get his brother back, and if that was selfish, fine. He just knew that if there was any kind of danger coming, he was the one that needed to keep Sam safe.
But if Jessica burning on the ceiling was anything to go on, he'd say that the danger wasn't something that would vanish any time soon.
It was too late to do anything about the massive destruction, let alone what it had done to Sam. The past hours had made it painfully clear to Dean, that to Sam, Jessica had been special.
Seeing his little brother walk around in such a zombie like state, completely lost in his own world, worried him. Sam was walking around in his own bubble, and Dean didn't know to break through to him.
There was a time when Sam had been living in his very own world, but it was around the time when Dean had to explain where buses sleep, and Sam wasn't more than five years old. It was when he'd went along with Sam's little experiments, like testing how long it would take for a marshmallow to explode in the microwave. Sam believed everything was magic, and Dean let him.
But this was different. This was something else completely.
Turning the Impala around he hadn't known what was happening.
Dean knew the signs of danger as his watch stopped, but he could never imagine just how much damage had been caused. Or what dire consequences it would lead to.
Yet when he saw Sam on that bed, trapped under a wall of flames he went on pure instinct. Instincts which had evolved into something stronger than just a gut feeling.
It was also the reason for why Sam was alive.
The hours after the fire had been excruciating painful. The fact that Dean couldn't do anything more for Sam than just being there, trying to take care of him, was tearing him apart.
In the eyes of his little brother, he'd been the hero who could fix anything, and later the big brother who would stand between any danger just to protect him.
But this was something Dean couldn't protect Sam from, no matter how much he wanted to. Because how do you protect someone from death, and the dark sorrow that blindly follows it?
Thirty minutes later, Dean was wondering what Sam was really doing in there. He wanted to be patient, to give him space, but he also knew that Sam was far from okay.
"Sam? You okay in there?" He knocked on the door twice.
There was no answer.
"Sammy?"
Only silence filled the air.
This wasn't good. Dean was certain that Sam was able to hear him, loud and clear.
Banging on the door once again he muttered, "that's it."
The silence covered him like a heavy blanket, and fear started to claw at his heart. "If you don't answer right now, I swear I'm kicking down this door."
Now he knew something was wrong. "SAM!"
Receiving nothing in response, Dean didn't have a choice. He kicked down the door with trained ease.
At first Dean didn't see anything at all, as he scanned the small bathroom. Everything was still and he started to wonder where exactly Sam was.
But then he saw him. Dean saw how Sam's entire body was under water, with most of his clothes on. A part of him stopped breathing at the sight that met his eyes.
Oh God.
Shock was going through him in electrifying waves. Dean yanked Sam out of the water by his shirt. He pulled him over the tub, twice his weight due to the heavy wet clothes.
The only thing running through Dean's head was that Sam wasn't breathing. Water was just dripping from his clothes, as Dean felt for a pulse in his desperation.
But then Sam started coughing out water, and Dean couldn't help wondering just how long he had been under water.
"Sam," Dean said, his eyes never moving from Sam's face. "What the hell were you doing?"
His brown hair was wet, plastered to his forehead. Brown eyes, larger than usual never met his. But his lips were trying to form words. "I...I think I fell a-asleep."
"You fell asleep?"
"I closed my eyes, and then I c-can't r-remember," Sam shivered.
Dean contemplated this, wondering if that was what really happened. It was just unbelievable luck that he had actually found him. But while Sam was sitting in front of him shivering, Dean knew he'd get sick if he didn't get out of his wet clothes.
"Let's get you out of these clothes first," he said. Dean's hands pulled Sam's shirt off. After the pants came off, he grabbed a towel. Wrapping it around Sam's frame, he held it close.
"Dean?"
There was a seriousness in those eyes, a desperation in them when he looked at Dean.
"Yeah?"
"I didn't try to kill myself."
"Okay, Sam." Dean guided him to his bed, where he handed Sam a clean shirt.
"I didn't. I was so tired, and I just fell asleep. I closed my eyes, and then when I woke up you were there."
Dean just lifted the covers of his bed, so Sam could get in under them. "Come on, Sammy."
"You don't believe me, do you?" Sam's voice almost cracked with emotion, but he wouldn't look up at Dean while getting into his bed.
Sam sounded hurt, and a part of Dean really believed him. It was impossible not to, while looking into those solemn brown eyes.
But that other part of him remembered the darkness that had coloured them, when Dean had been standing by Sam moments after Jess had died. Even if it was another form of sorrow, he knew that it would take a while for Dean to let Sam out of his sight, no matter what had happened.
"I want to believe you, Sam. But how do you explain the clothes then?"
Sam gazed up at him, his brown eyes bright. "I wasn't trying to kill myself, if that's what you're trying to say."
"I'm not trying to say anything. I just don't want to see that happen again," Dean said sharply. "Ever." He didn't catch what Sam seemed to be muttering. "Do you hear me?"
Sam didn't say anything. Dean studied him critically.
"Sam?"
"It won't happen again, okay!"
"It had better not." He was starting to get even more convinced that Sam really had tried to do something.
He didn't know how deeply involved Sam had been with his girlfriend, and maybe something within him had snapped. Maybe he even thought he was doing the right thing.
If Dean was completely honest with himself, the one thing that had been going through his mind when he saw Sam, was almost scaring him to death.
To him it had looked exactly like Sam had given up, like he couldn't fight anymore. As if he didn't want to breathe.
"Sammy," Dean said, with the affection he only reserved for his little brother. "Go to sleep. You'll feel better in the morning."
"How do you know?"
"I'm always right aren't I?" Dean smirked, one eyebrow raised.
Sam laughed into his pillow. "Yeah, right."
When the lights went out Dean found he couldn't sleep. He lay there, watching the outlines of Sam features as he slept. He had always looked younger while he was asleep, hugging his pillow just as tightly as that stuffed rabbit he'd owned as a kid.
Four years had changed Sam's features. You wouldn't see anything if you didn't look close enough, but Dean was probably the only one who had been close enough to notice.
Four years ago Dean had been able to read Sam like a book, detecting every emotion behind every action. He knew which words were spoken in silence, just like he knew what they meant.
But things had changed.
When Jessica died he could feel more than sense, how Sam started to close off. He didn't even seem to be aware of what he was doing, and where Dean had been able to see every shade of Sam's heart, there were now only dark clouds of pain.
oooOOOooo
Sam couldn't sleep.
Beside him he could make out the numbers of his watch, lying on the bedside table. It was almost four in the morning. On his other side Dean was sleeping on, his face towards him.
He was lucky if he could get two hours of dreamless sleep. It didn't seem to be working that way, because no matter how hard he tried, sleep wasn't coming to him as usual.
Almost every hour Sam would wake, out of breath, with images of his girlfriend burning still raw in his mind.
Sometimes she wasn't saying anything, but sometimes her eyes held pain mixed with an accusation that seemed to burn stronger than the fire itself. It was just as if she knew what had constantly crossed his mind, right after she had died.
There were times when Sam couldn't see anything at all, just those flames building an ocean that Jess drowned in.
Seeing that fire blinding him, Sam knew it had to be better to burn, than lay here and fade away to nothing.
As it had burned Jess, and he had stared up at it, wishing he could do something, he wondered how long it would burn. If he burned, would it save him or would it kill him?
Sam had never felt his whole body tremble that way. Before Dean had come running, he wondered if it was right that his girlfriend was choking on fire, and Sam was still breathing. He was still alive.
Dean hadn't noticed how sleep didn't come to him, for which Sam was thankful.
The moment he had pulled Sam out of the bath tub, his face was something that was hard to forget. His eyes, always alert, had been curtained with panic and a wild desperation. Desperation because he was certain that Sam had been trying to kill himself.
Killing himself had never been in Sam's plans. When he was thinking about it, he didn't even remember how he got into the bathtub, let alone with his clothes on. What he remembered, was that Jess was the only thing he seemed to see when he closed his eyes.
The moment he'd tried to let go of his tension, the devastation, he had started to dream. Sam had fallen asleep in the water, and that was also how Dean had found him. He had almost been as shocked as his brother.
Almost.
There had been a fear behind Dean's every action, strong enough as the striking of lightning in a storm. Even Sam couldn't fail to notice that. Yet in his mind, he knew it was easier to give in when you fall. That was what he was doing. Every minute of every hour, he was falling.
But Sam couldn't tell Dean what he knew. He couldn't explain those dreams that had been so vivid and alive, how he could still remember almost every detail of them. All he could do was try to shield his sorrow, that he was trying so hard to hold back.
It had taken the term nightmare to a whole new level. The only thing Sam had done those nights he'd been dreaming, was to push those dreams to the back of his head. He was trying desperately to ignore them even though there was a loud sound in his head, telling him he shouldn't.
Jess' life had been in his hands, and what had he done? He hadn't been able to save her. Instead he had failed the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with.
Now as small rays of sunshine were trying to get through the curtains, creating shadows dancing around his bed, he failed to see it. Destruction in forms of fire were always haunting him, destroying every moment of peace.
As those cracks in the ceiling would just grow deeper with each day, so would the hole someone had dug into his heart.
She was dead.
It was slowly penetrating into his mind, into his soul. When she'd been in his life, the road to his heart had been paved with light. But now, now they had faded into the year's darkest night.
If he could, he would scream his lungs out. Whenever it started to slip from his mind, he was reminded that the fire had been her last bend, before she was crashing.
Nothing could explain the pain he had felt when he realized that Jess was gone for good, that nothing would ever bring her back. But what was cutting into his soul like a knife, was the fact that he might have been able to do something about it.
It was like black clouds creating darkness that was shutting him in, a storm that was raging, with lightning crushing him in a way that almost killed.
Sam had finally come to realize that when nothing matters, something would change inside. Something had changed, because Sam no longer cared what was going to happen. He didn't know what he was going to do when the time came, when they would find and kill the thing held responsible for the death of his girlfriend.
When the sunshine was strong enough to illuminate the watch beside him, he noticed how Dean seemed to be waking up beside him. What he would give to be able to sleep so deep, so easy.
Sam didn't even bother to fake sleep, because he knew Dean well enough to know that he could always see through it.
Still, when Dean got up to get into the bathroom, Sam wouldn't have minded staying in bed all day and doing nothing at all.
Everything could wait one day longer, really what difference would it make?
"Sam, you awake?" Dean's voice was hesitant. "It's better if we go earlier."
"Before everyone else gets there you mean?" Sam finally turned around. "We can go there whenever."
Dean observed him intently. "Did you sleep at all last night?" It looked as if Dean hadn't lost all his skills in reading Sam.
"I got some," Sam answered, shrugging.
"Right," Dean nodded, but his eyes told Sam that he didn't believe him. "Well, you wanna use the bathroom?" The warning in his voice told him that Dean was not about to forget what happened yesterday any time soon.
"Maybe later," Sam said, turning away from his brother.
"Sam, look." Sam could feel the weight of Dean sitting down on his bed. "I know this is hard," Dean sighed. "Everything sucks, but we need to keep on moving. Trust me, it's easier with less people around."
"I don't care." He did care. It would be easier with no one around, trying to understand how he felt. No, he would rather just be there with Dean. But the exhaustion of not getting any sleep was finally getting to him. He didn't want to see whatever was left there just now.
"Well I do, and we're going in one hour, whether you like it or not." His voice softened when he continued. "Sam, this isn't healthy. We don't have to stay there for long, but it's better if we do it now."
"What exactly do you know about healthy?" Sam wanted to know.
"I know you're only going to feel worse if you lie here all day."
"Then we can do it tomorrow," he mumbled, hugging his pillow closer.
"Sammy..."
"Fine," he muttered, too drained to argue. Throwing the covers aside, he got up, never so much as looking at his brother.
Dean's voice followed him all the way to the bathroom. "Leave the door open."
Sam had his doubts about going there at all. He had a feeling about what he was about to see. In daylight, those black ruins would look even more devastating and horrific. What would be left exactly? Sam couldn't think of a single thing. Everything Sam had shared with Jess had probably turned into ashes.
Looking into the mirror, his skin was almost as pale as ivory. No wonder Dean had looked at him like that. Sam could see that invisible fog in his eyes clearly, whether it was pain or something else he didn't know.
Inside their room, in the whole motel, everything seemed to shine bright. Everything inside seemed so white it almost blinded his eyes.
Sam only felt out of place, out of place because he expected something to happen everytime he turned around.
In every shadow there seemed to be a monster lurking, just getting ready for an attack.
It was just like those moments when he knew there had been something under his bed, but he couldn't look because he knew that it would attack. He'd always run to find safety in Dean's bed, because he knew that there, nothing bad could ever happen. Because Dean would never let it.
"Here," Dean gave him some clothes when he came out. If he had looked hard enough he would notice that they were brand new.
"Thanks," he said, genuinely thankful for everything Dean was doing for him. What was harder was to make Dean realize how grateful he really was.
Dean cracked a smile. "Gotta have my little brother look a little presentable at least."
"Shut up," Sam muttered, pulling the t-shirt on. If it were up to him, he would sit on that bed forever never bothering to do anything. That was what he felt like doing.
"C'mon, kiddo, let's go."
Sam knew it wouldn't do any good to try to delay the visit of the wreckage, but he had a feeling if he saw anything that would remind him of Jess, he wouldn't be able to take it. Mentally he was steeling himself for whatever he would find there.
"Okay," was all Sam said.
It was time to gather all those pieces of his shattered dream.
Only one fire truck was standing outside the apartment complex that once held beauty and style.
Now, as the sun illuminated the wreckage, Sam could see how it was black as coal.
One fireman was talking to someone else, who looked like a fire marshal. Their conversation seemed to end when Sam and Dean came closer.
"You boys be careful when you're looking. Avoid going near any of the tape," the fire marshal told them
Dean stepped in front of Sam. "We will."
Seeing everything covered in ashes was something different from watching the fire. Sam could see the tape that was put up wherever the structure looked too unsteady.
The room was silent, but through it Sam swore he could have heard distance voices. Whether they were memories or something completely different, Sam would never know.
It was as if the room was breathing, a secret heart pounding in all the dust and ashes.
Sam silently wondered if this was what his father had to experience, trying to go through the remains of a life that was miles away.
On the floor under the ashes, Sam couldn't find the pictures Jess had so strategically placed out. It had been one of the things Sam had admired about her, how she had known exactly where to put everything to give everything a life of its own.
A sadness weighed his heart down when he saw those little figures made of glass Jess had collected. The figures which had had different colors were now colored black.
Sam regarded the lion for bravery sitting in his hand, and the dolphin for freedom and family. Most of her precious collection was there, even the pink seal Sam had bought her. Sam put them in his pocket, wanting to take a part of her with him.
"Sam?" A new voice made him turn around. He could see how her eyes were bloodshot from crying, and he forced down the lump in his throat. It was Jess' best friend.
"Hey Jodie," Sam whispered, looking down at Jess' favorite painting to his left. "I was just..."
Jodie only put her arms around him, and Sam breathed in the scent of affection that seemed to come from her in waves.
"I'm so sorry Sam," she said as she let go. "Jess talked about you before...while you were..."
"...with my brother," Sam finished for her. His eyes automatically swung to Dean, who didn't hide the fact that he had been listening. "Dean."
Jodie nodded in Dean's direction.
Sam turned his gaze downwards, feeling a sudden burning sensation behind his eyes. "What...what did she say?"
"She wanted to talk to you." Jodie touched Sam's hand. "Did she talk to you before..." she made a sweeping movement with her hand.
"No, she didn't." Sam met her grey eyes. "Did she mention something that was bothering her, or someone?"
"You mean you think someone wanted..."
"No!" Sam said so vehemently, he could see how Dean's brows arched. He just wanted to know what Jess had seen, if someone had done something to her. "I just wanted to know what she wanted to talk to me about," Sam said in a soft voice.
Deep inside he knew that this was his fault, Jess had probably seen something or heard something. Sam hadn't been there to stop it. He hadn't been there to warn her. Now he could see that pain in the girl who had laughed with Jess all those afternoons, who had offered them her place when they were still looking for an apartment.
"I know you do." She sighed, her eyes sweeping over the wreckage that had been a great apartment just one night ago. "You know, if you don't have a place to stay, you and your brother could always stay with me. You know I wouldn't mind."
"Thanks, but I...I can't. We're not staying that long, I need to take a break from all of this...college."
"Too many reminders, huh?"
"Something like that."
"Well you could still come by tonight. A bunch of us are going to be there."
"I don't think I can, not yet. I need more time. I don't know..." Sam knew he'd need much more than time until he could meet all those people again.
"Okay, well if you change your mind..." Jodie took a look around the place one more time before turning to Sam. "Goodbye Sam," she whispered, kissing his cheek.
"Goodbye," Sam whispered, but she had already left.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed how Dean put down whatever it was he was holding. "Sam?" He could hear Dean's voice, but he couldn't pay attention to what he was saying.
Sam's eyes had found something behind the tape. It was something he didn't even remember, but now he knew it was the only thing that could have survived the fire. It was the only thing he could see, everything else was fading out.
It was a safe.
The safe hadn't existed when they had moved in. It was something Jess decided they needed to have. Sam lifted the tape carelessly, not caring about the fact that it was very likely the black charred structure could fall down on him.
"Sam!" Dean's voice sounded too far away for him to listen. "Stay away from the tape, damnit." But Sam didn't hear him. He didn't notice how Dean's face seemed to take on that territorial set, how he was moving close enough to pull Sam back if he needed to.
Sam never even noticed how Dean was ready to go beyond the call of duty of a guardian angel.
The only thing Sam's mind was focused on, was getting to that safe and opening it. If his senses were right he would find something in there, something that Jess had valued. Because to Sam, everything he valued was not in that safe. It was what he came home to, the face he woke up to every morning.
Until now.
Before Sam had met Jess, he hadn't put much belief in clichés. Sure, he'd read about them, but none of them were real. They were just pretty sentences to describe something that couldn't be described.
But when Sam had come to know her, when he was close to her, everything he'd read about passion, every cliché had came to life.
The burning sensation, the way his heart seemed be full of fireworks whenever Jess was close enough. It was something he was feeling in the center of his heart. And when they kissed, he could feel that electric bolt going through his body.
He had come to know her, maybe like no one ever knew her, because Sam had seen what made her special. Everyone always admired the surface, but no one really knew what was inside. No one knew about the girl who had had her heart crushed over and over again, and where she wasn't perfect, she was just like Sam.
Sam knew he wasn't like everyone else. He never fitted in completely. Even though he wanted that new beginning, he felt lost there.
While he was living normal, feeling it, sometimes he just felt so out of place. But whenever he had been with Jess, they fit together. She completed him in a sense he never thought possible, by just sitting next to him. But at the same time he knew that there were sides of her no one had seen. The way a rainbow sparkled in her tears, or how she would never take anything for granted again.
They were different, but somehow they were also burning with the same flame.
The combination to the safe was something Sam could remember in his sleep. Even if he was blind he'd still know the way to open it.
The turns, left, right, left, left and eventually it opened up. Just as it opened and Sam saw what was lying there, every memory seemed to be coming back to him. But the one that shined stronger than the rest, was when Jess had convinced him that sometimes you have to protect what's precious to you.
oooOOOooo
"What if something happens? What are we going to do then?" Jess looked at him, blue eyes clear as crystal looked into his. "There are some things I don't want to lose," Jess said, taking one step closer to him, curling her arms around Sam's neck.
"You won't," he whispered.
"Oh yeah?" She pressed her smile against his lips, before touching them with a touch lighter than a feather.
In the end, Sam had agreed about coming with her, looking for the safe that would hold all the precious things they couldn't lose.
Walking between rows holding all kinds of boxes, in every size, Sam had to admit that it was a pretty good idea. But some of those boxes just looked so ugly.
"Well they aren't supposed to look pretty," she laughed. "They are supposed to blend in."
"How does a black safe blend in anywhere?"
"Not in our apartment anyway," she winked. Jess had stopped by a row that held safety boxes that were beige. "What about this one?" She pointed to a medium sized box, that was neither big nor small.
Sam thought it looked a great deal better than the others. They weren't the types who had a box hidden behind a fancy painting, but they were looking for something that would keep their most precious possessions safe.
Jess smiled at him, and Sam returned it, kissing her cheek softly before they walked to pay for their investment.
Ten days earlier, they had celebrated their first year anniversary. It had been one year ago since they had crossed paths in that cafeteria, when Sam had caught her eyes and she had smiled that secret smile.
Jodie, who had been friends with Jess ever since they had been in kindergarten was the one who gave them the greatest photo album Sam had ever seen.
In it there had to be hundreds of pictures, where Jodie had caught all those moments Sam didn't even remember. But once he and Jess had looked through the whole album, Sam realized that he wanted to save those moments forever.
The present from their other friends was so easily done, and yet it looked so professional. There was a picture Zach had taken when they had spent a day at the beach. Sam couldn't even remember it being taken, which when he thought about it, probably was the point.
As the red ball of the sun was going down, it shone in Jess' hair, almost making her look like a golden angel. She wasn't even acknowledging that she was being photographed, she was only looking at Sam.
Even though the photo had been taken from the side, as Sam had stared into the eyes just as blue as the ocean, Sam was certain he had seen that same sun in her eyes.
But looking at it later, he knew there wasn't anyone who could fail to see the pure affection in her eyes.
It had been put into a silver frame, decorated with hearts and roses, and underneath there were words engraved.
Sam and Jessica – Forever.
When Jess had looked at him, a laugh made her tears fall down her cheek. "I love you, Sam Winchester," she smiled.
"I love you too," Sam whispered.
He'd meant it.
Coming to Stanford he never knew there would be someone like this girl, someone who could break through his defenses. But when she did, even though there were still things he had hidden, he'd let himself love her. More than he thought was possible.
oooOOOooo
Blowing away the ashes Sam saw the album Jess had cherished, the album they had looked at together more than a few times. There was even that receipt from their first date, at the coffee shop on the Stanford campus.
The medallion that had belonged to Jess was there, it was dark from dust but it wasn't broken. When he opened it, he could see a picture of himself staring back at him.
Sam held it tightly in his hand, knowing that this was the thing Jess had been wearing every day.
The rest of the things were broken. There was a little bowl shaped like a heart that had belonged to her grandmother. Sam remembered how she had been so careful with it, wanting to keep it forever.
Sam lifted the things out of the box before closing it. In his hands, he was holding everything Jess wanted him to have, and he would take it.
When they were safe inside his pockets he sat down on the ground, all around him the black structure starting to shake.
Sam didn't care.
He didn't do anything to get out of there, but Dean grabbed his jacket, pulling him back roughly. "We're going," he said, his face tight with frustration and anger. "Now, Sam." Pushing Sam in front of him, they walked out of the black ruins.
Sam didn't look back this time.
He could feel Dean's anger coming off like vapor, but he never said anything.
The silence in the car was almost suffocating, so heavy it was almost hurting his head.
But as he felt his pockets for those precious pieces of Jess, there was something that could never be replaced, no matter how many pictures he would look at.
And she had disappeared into darkness forever.
Sam knew that he needed her to breathe. How was he supposed to explain to Dean how much she really mattered?
How he needed her to live, to never fall asleep.
As they entered the motel moments later, Sam knew Dean was holding back his emotions. He secretly wondered what would happen if he'd let go of all those emotions.
Sam doubted it would make a difference. When you have seen tragedy and disaster meet, everything becomes less important.
But even though he might be seeing everything through a haze, sometimes everything around him becoming blurred, there were things he would always be able to see.
This moment was definitely one of those times.
It didn't take much for him to notice how Dean's green eyes had darkened, mirroring a thundering sky. It appeared as if Dean wanted to say something, and as Sam waited it never came.
There was only a tension so loaded, Sam wouldn't have been surprised if he had heard the cracking sounds of electricity in the air.
Clutching the medallion he hadn't let go of ever since the car ride, Sam noticed how Dean was pacing in front of him, clearly looking for something he had to find.
"What are you looking for?"
Turning around, Dean stared at him with an expression Sam couldn't quite interpret. "Nothing," he muttered quietly.
Sam didn't have time to think about what Dean was holding back. If his instincts were correct, he had a pretty good idea what it was about anyway, and it was something he didn't want to get close to.
Not tonight.
The same moment Sam had found their safe, with all those memories it held, it had become hard to breathe. It was the reason for why Sam wouldn't sleep tonight. He simply wouldn't.
Tonight, he needed to be alone. It wasn't even a conscious thought, but somewhere he knew it was the truth.
Ever since that fire had reflected in his eyes, Sam knew that there was nothing Dean could do to make it easier. The only possible thing he could do was to leave him alone, but he hadn't.
Dean had never left his side. It was almost as if he thought Sam was just as fragile as china, waiting for him to break.
"We should turn in early," Dean said, breaking the silence. "You coming?" Dean looked at him, as if nothing had happened.
Sam knew it wasn't nothing.
Dean was angry, and he was covering up with actions, with trying to play it cool. Sam had seen it too many times to not be able to see through it.
This night he couldn't be here though, and since there was no way Dean would let him go out by himself he had no other choice but to take matters in his own hands.
But while he was waiting patiently for Dean to find whatever it was he was looking for, he never noticed the trouble clouding his features.
"Yeah." Sam answered, absent-mindedly.
When he went into the bathroom, seeing his reflection staring back at him, he still didn't like what he was seeing. Somehow he looked even paler than he had this morning.
Maybe if he was exhausted, he would sleep better at night, but that couldn't be right.
Who was he kidding?
There wasn't a moment where Sam didn't feel exhausted. Losing his appetite and sleep probably weren't a good combination, but what did it matter anyway?
He was almost positive it hadn't been more than a minute before Dean came in, joining him.
"Sammy, listen..." Dean started.
But Sam couldn't take it, he was sick of Dean watching him like a hawk all the time. It was obvious that the only reason Dean was in the bathroom was because of Sam.
"Hey, I'm trying to talk to you," Dean grabbed Sam's arm.
Sam stumbled, momentarily seeing black clouds of dizziness in his head. He rapidly blinked them away. "I'm really tired Dean. Can't it wait 'til tomorrow?"
Not really expecting an answer, Sam turned around getting into his bed, hoping Dean would let it go.
"Sam!" Dean's angry voice pierced through the silence Sam needed. "We need to talk about this."
"There's nothing to talk about," Sam said, before turning around in his bed, away from Dean.
The lights went out twenty minutes later.
Heavy breaths could eventually be heard from the bed next to him.
Sam closed his eyes, breathing deeply. Deciding that it was safe to get out of his bed, Sam quietly crawled into his jeans and jacket.
The door opened easily and Sam was careful not to slam it shut.
When he was out on the street, Sam breathed in the night air as he started to walk. He drew a shuddering breath as he zipped up his jacket to shut out the cold.
His intention wasn't to find a bar so he could drink until he couldn't walk. It was to find a place where he could be alone. Alone meaning wherever he could melt into a crowd.
The only place he could see in a manageable distance was the bar a bit further from their motel. Even from where Sam was standing, the flash of the blue wave above the name 'The Surfer', was visible.
Making his way towards the bar, Sam tried to walk fast. All around him darkness was sweeping through the night. Where there wasn't any light, there was just complete darkness.
It reminded him of that night, now just one night ago but what felt like a lifetime ago.
Small lights were burning in their bulbs. Outside the bar, people were gathering. Sam noticed they were mostly couples. He could hear their voices.
"No I didn't. That was you." Laughter. "If that's what you wanna do."
Sam had to look away. It reminded him to much of the dream that wasn't supposed to break.
Jess.
As Sam walked inside, no one even seemed to notice, which was exactly the way he wanted it.
When he walked up to the bartender asking for a beer, he barely even looked at Sam. "What do you want?"
"A beer."
It was slammed down on the bar counter so hard, Sam almost thought it would leave a crack, but the beer was ice cold, freezing under his hand.
Taking one small sip from it, Sam thought it tasted disgusting, but it wasn't important. He was just sitting there without moving, without even thinking and it was okay.
He'd never really been to that many bars with Jess. They had always spent their time doing other things.
Sam didn't want to go there, not tonight.
The environment around him was just something he wasn't used to.
Two men entered, storming into the bar, scanning the bar quickly with an air of superiority.
Sam knew that if he stayed low, not bothering anyone, no one would bother him either.
He was wrong.
The way the bigger of the two ordered made Sam want to move away, and it wasn't out of fear. He looked like a mountain of flesh and blood.
"I'm not waiting all night," he bellowed at the bartender.
What Sam couldn't understand was why the bartender suddenly seemed to work twice as slow. If it was to piss him off, it was definitely working.
"You hear me?"
The bartender didn't acknowledge that he was being yelled at.
"Yeah I'm talking to you! If I'm not getting them right now..." He stopped as his drinks were slammed down in front of him, next to Sam.
Sam studied the exchange secretly, hoping they would just take their drinks and leave.
"What the hell are you looking at?"
"Nothing," Sam said, feeling slightly smaller than he was.
"Then get outta here. This is my spot," the man said, his breath already smelling of alcohol. He was towering over Sam, who knew he should just leave to avoid the trouble.
The way they were looking at him with blank and vacant eyes made Sam shiver. The last thing he wanted to do was get into something with them.
Yet, the competitive side of Sam wanted to keep his seat, and not let himself be pushed over.
Before he could even think about what was happening, Sam felt himself being lifted from the floor. The man standing before him had grabbed him roughly by the shirt, coming so close that Sam could see the fury in his eyes.
"Are you deaf? Want me to spell it out for you?"
It didn't take a genius to figure out what he meant.
Sam wasn't stupid. He hadn't been studying law for nothing. It was obvious to him that if he stayed a little longer, things would most likely get out of hand.
But he couldn't allow himself to be pushed aside by some random idiot, he wouldn't take it.
"Go to hell!"
"You don't know who you're talking to kid," the man grumbled. "I'm gonna..."
"What, kill me? Go ahead!"
As he pushed the man away from him, Sam put all his body strength behind that one movement before turning to walk away.
Only he didn't get very far.
Someone grabbed him from behind, sending him flying and crashing to the floor. Fortunately he was able to break the fall with his arms, but he still lay there with his arms protesting, blinking stupidly at the red lights in the ceiling.
"You really shouldn't have done that." The bitter voice came somewhere from his right.
What surprised him was how no one seemed to notice, as if this was something that happened every day. Sam silently wondered if it was.
Kicking out his legs, Sam tried to push the men away, to find a way to get out of there.
"You little..." the large man yelped.
As Sam was lifted off the floor he could detect the ice cold fury in the voice belonging to the man who was now standing before him.
It told him that what he should have done was walk away. Instead he had managed to upset two men who were bigger than him, and probably stronger too.
A door opened before him, and he could feel himself being pushed inside violently.
It looked like an old store room. There was a broken lamp to his left, giving the room a dim look and casting half the room in darkness.
Perfect. Now what?
Normally Sam's instincts were near perfect. He'd learned how to hear things before he actually saw them.
None of that seemed to apply now. Normally, Sam didn't feel as if he was living in a bad dream just waiting for the moment he would wake up.
This time he didn't hear that fist swinging in his direction.
"You know who I am?" the voice taunted.
"I don't really care," Sam whispered, trying to breathe through the pain.
"Then maybe you should," came the heavy answer.
Sam could barely see anything, the pain that was like spikes to his face, made everything even darker. It made him gasp for air, and for the first time he wished he hadn't left the motel.
When he tried to throw punches, the only thing his fist connected with was an arm. It didn't even do any damage either, since the man only ducked, slipping away from his grasp.
"I'm the..."
"I don't give a damn about who you are", Sam whispered.
In front of him the man gritted his teeth. "You know what? You're never gonna get out of here," he hissed venomously. "You're gonna die here and no one will come for you."
There was only one thought going through his head.
Dean.
Sam had to call him. Screw his pride, he needed Dean's help. He needed it badly.
The cell phone was in his pocket. Sam tried to get to Dean's number without having to look at it. He could only pray that it would work.
"You can't kill me."
"What was that?" The voice seemed distant, too far away from Sam.
At a last attempt of breaking free, Sam threw his elbows above his head, successfully knocking out one of them.
"Sonofabitch!" the large man swore.
Somewhere in the fight Sam started to give up. There were too many colours in his head. He had to blink hard to make out the shapes before him, trying to keep them away from him.
"You wanna know something? I have done this before," his voice was edging towards insanity now. "I have killed before."
Now, Sam was really convinced that he had to get out of there, and fast.
He didn't know if the call had gone through. There wasn't any sound coming from it. Maybe he had accidentally touched something that cut the call.
A pain to the side of his head made him wonder if his head really was on fire. It felt like that anyway.
Sam could taste the blood in his mouth, and he could almost hear that distinct pounding in his head.
He was prepared now, but at this point he didn't know what was going to happen.
As the shapes before him were getting smaller and smaller, the colors in his head seemed to transform into a violent shade of black and violet.
The last thing he remembered was how he slipped, and suddenly the world turned black.
oooOOOooo
TBC
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