I sit on our worn deck watching him with our family.
It's been twenty-two years, but I still didn't know everything about his time before me. I know now about the hunts and the demons – the deals made, then broken. Sam is Sam because of his past.
I'm grateful for that.
Now he's carefully studying Grace's boyfriend, trying to protect his daughter from bad intentions. Then his gaze shifts to James and Mary, chasing each other around the yard, eyes trace their path, constantly checking for hazards. That comes from years of hunting; this awareness of what surrounds him.
Sam, assured of his children's safety, heads toward Dean. Dean passes him a beer, they share a joke – probably one they've both heard before. Sam's eyes and smile are bright every time they're together. I realize how lucky I am to see them both here, alive, after all they've been through. They love each other more than either one of them is willing to admit – but I know.
As Sam heads toward me, he smiles. His dimples are huge and his eyes look happy. He loves me. I can tell by a kiss or a touch. But I know that I'm never going to be his number one. That spot was taken by a curly-haired blonde back in California. He says he's moved on – but I know.
He gets this look in his eyes, when he thinks about his past. His father, his mother – but mostly Jess.
That's when I miss him.