Disclaimer: I claim no ownership of the characters or concepts of Supernatural.

Warnings: Major angst. Mentions of Death and/or subjects which could offend more sensitive readers.

Fragmented

When you're lost in darkness I will hold the light
I will help you find your way through the night
I'll remind you of the truth
And keep the flame alive in you
And I will be your shield
'Cause I know how it feels
When you are a soldier

-

Sam couldn't remember Jess's smile. He could hear her laugh in his mind, her voice like wind through leaves and her moans when he touched her and when he kissed her. But he couldn't remember her smile.

All he could remember was the frozen look of agony on her face as she was pinned to the ceiling.

Sam couldn't remember anything except that he loved her more than he loved life itself.

It was in the darkness of another nameless motel room when Dean was asleep in the bed next to his that he listened really closely.

If he listened hard enough, maybe he would hear her voice once more.

-

Sam remembered the way Jess would smell after she got out of the shower. An intoxicating blend of the tropical fruit shampoo she used and the faint scent of her jasmine soap. He could remember burying his face in her neck at night and just breathing her in. Maybe if he breathed in deeply enough she would become a part of him that he would never let go.

The scent of Jasmine seemed to linger around him wherever he went. In Nebraska hunting down a vengeful spirit, or in Texas the next tracking a chupacabra, all he could smell was Jasmine washing over him like a tide.

Jasmine was his favorite flower.

-

He thinks it must have started sometime after Iowa when he saw her in the street, bathed in sunlight and caressed gently by the wind.

After that the dreams started. Not nightmares exactly, but dreams of being held in warm arms and surrounded by Jasmine. Dreams when he could remember her soft golden hair or her sparkling eyes that laughed at him.

It was it the early hours of the morning when he felt closest to her. He would awake from the dreams and just lie there remembering what it had been like to know that she had been his, if only for a little while.

Sometimes it was easier to live in the past than in the present.

-

Sam had gained a deeper understanding of his father than he ever thought possible. It made him ache on an all new level, for while he had always been desperate to understand the older man, he never wanted that understanding to come to him as it had. Never imagined he had to lose so much to gain so little.

When he stands in the shower after impossibly difficult hunts unable to summon the energy to feel sad, he thinks he can feel her arms around him, soothing wounds that he knows will never heal.

And he loses himself in the fantasy for as long as it takes for him to fall asleep again. To fall back to the dreams of Jasmine and golden hair.

-

When Sam looks into the face of his mother's ghost, he realized that maybe he wasn't as alone as he had thought.

Dean's face when he had seen their mother was everything he had imagined it would be. The grief had made Sam's heart splinter just that little bit more, and he could almost drown in his brother's pain.

And for the first time he started to wonder if he should have been born at all. It was then that the scent of Jasmine washed over him once more and her voice whispered in his mind that she was glad he had been born.

He knew than that she had never really left him.

-

Death was just another stepping stone in navigating the twists and turns that life presented. Sam knew that only too well now.

He knew that Dean was worrying himself to bits about him, but he couldn't bring himself to sleep anymore.

She was closest to him in the deepest hours of the night. Her voice whispered in his mind, telling him that it would all be okay and that she loved him and didn't blame him for anything that had happened. That she would always love him with everything she was, and everything she had been. That she instantly forgave him for everything he hadn't told her

If only he could forgive himself.

He'd sit there surrounded by that beautiful scent all over again and could feel all the broken splinters of his heart cutting him in a thousand places.

Because she should be with him. Not only in spirit, but in body as well.

-

Dean is pinned to the wall closest to him and the Demon, wearing their fathers face and using his voice, is taunting him. Whispering words of poison into his ear. Words meant to wound, like the lashes of a whip upon fragile skin.

Sam's body is consumed with pain, and rage and fear, but he can't fight against the crushing force holding him to the wall not matter how hard he tries and he can feel the tears in his eyes building at the helplessness of the situation.

And then there's that scent again. The scent of freedom, and sun warmed skin surrounding him and banishing the pain.

'Sam,' she whispered in his heart. 'It's okay Sam. All you have to do is let go.'

He didn't want to. He wanted to suffer for the sins he had committed, however unknowingly. He wanted to burn as she had, to be consumed by the pain which seemed to stalk their family wherever they went.

Maybe then….Maybe then he wouldn't spend every day longing for what could have been. Maybe he wouldn't spend every minute he wasn't hunting wondering where it had all gone wrong.

'No,' she whispered. 'I will never leave you. Stay with me.'

Sam shook his head, watching Dean stare fearlessly into the demon's burning eyes, heard the words drip from his lips like molten lava and he knew that no words he could speak would make it better once more. Not for the first time he wished he could have Dean's strength of will.

If he went then Dean and their father would be safe. And he could see Jess once more, instead of hearing her voice in his head like a haunting melody. He would meet his mother.

Dean would be safe….and he would be gone.

'Sam….' Jess was whispering, 'I will always be with you.'

And he knew that she would be. They would be reunited in Death. It was fitting really, seeing as it had been death that had bought them together.

Jess was his shield. The only one who could protect his heart as best she could with the faint remnants of a love that had once been.

And suddenly their father managed to gain control over the demon and Sam was free and racing for the colt that lay so innocently on the table. Dean fell to the floor was a heavy thud and Sam glanced at him before bringing the weapon up to point at their father.

One gunshot later and his father was free. A dark cloud hovered for a moment and then disappeared and the silence that was left in its wake was charged with too many emotions to count. Their father's panting sobs were enough to undo Sam and slowly, reverently placed the gun that meant so much to them back on the table. He looked at his father once, and then turned to look at Dean.

Dean, who was covered in his own blood and barely keeping his eyes open. Dean who had been his protector and his foundation for as long as he could remember.

"I'm sorry."

The scent of Jasmine was with him once more, and he closed his eyes and smiled as he breathed her in once more.

Sam pulled his handgun out of the waistband of his jeans and looked at it as the cold metal warmed in his hands.

"Sam?"

Forgive me father...

For I have sinned…

Sam smiled at Dean before he put the gun to his temple and pulled the trigger.

A/N Isn't this just morbid? I wrote it at work after reading a fic that thoroughly depressed me. Funnily enough i felt better after...does that make me a bad person? Heh, im just a sucker for Sam angst. Hope you liked it! The lyrics are from a song called 'When you are a soldier' by Steven Curtis Chapman.