Standing on your own
DISCLAIMER: DON'T OWN! JUST PLAY!
Chapter 1 – A night out celebrating –
It had been exactly two years, three months, nine days and eight hours since he had walked out of a crappy, rundown motel room in Bakersfield, California, leaving behind the hunt, John Winchester and his heart, never looking back once.
Now, gazing through the kitchen window of their house on Stanford Campus, admiring the view of a beautiful sunrise he wondered, if he could ever face eventually having to go back.
Had somebody asked Sam five months ago, whether he ever missed his old life or the people that had shared it with him the answer would have been: "HELL NO!" His mind would have automatically added: "Save one."
This instant however he desperately wished to be able to crawl between his brothers arms, hide his face in one of those hard muscled shoulders and hear the words "It's goanna be alright, Sammy, I'll take care of you."
Five months apparently made all the difference in the world.
Remembering the day, that had ripped his new world apart, tore him to shreds and changed everything forever, still hurt worse than… 'No, not going to let that afternoon resurface!' Sammy thought.
May 2nd 2005.
A date he would never forget, never wanted to be reminded of and sure as hell wished had never happened.
His 22nd birthday. Jess and he had been out with some friends celebrating. It was an honest to god party, with cake, candles, silly paper-hats, a lot of confetti and cheap role-up horns.
Silent tears slid down his cheeks as his head supplied images of laughing, drinking people all crowding in and around him to congratulate and shout profanities. For a few blessed hours Sam Winchester the hunter, trained since he could run on his own without falling on his face – repeatedly – was truly gone. Replaced by Sam Winchester, now 22 year-old college boy, who laughed, cussed and cursed along their sides. Not worrying about anything else but how he was going to propose to his long-term girlfriend of almost four years…
Jessica Moore, his personal candle in the dark. At 5.4 ft., soft, heart-shaped face with glowing deep blue eyes, surrounded by a waterfall of wavy blond hair, lips more sinful than a multi-layered chocolate cake and all curves at the right places she made his knees go weak, his mind spin and allowed his soul to soar high.
Until that fateful night. At exactly 2:03 am he had woken with a blinding headache and the taste of his own bile in his mouth, left there by the nightmare.
She had been glued to the ceiling, her abdomen ripped to shreds, face twisted in pain and fear.
Sam struggled with his brain, that scene seemed so familiar, like he had seen it happen before, he just couldn't…
As soon as the thought crept into his consciousness he was pulled under.