Preface
"... and for an extra nine ninety nine when you purchase with a credit card, Susan, you'll receive this wonderful maxi-absorbent sponge. It's great for cleaning your car, windows, even pets!"
Sam awoke with a start. Wide-eyed. the sickly sweet voice of an infomercial host beat at his ears. He flailed clumsily in the dark to find the remote beside his leg in the centre of the bed, and blindly clicked the 'power' button to kill the television set. Blinking heavily, he craned his neck to check the clock radio settled on his bedside table. It blinked 'five-fifty-nine AM,' and Sam groaned.
He rubbed his eyes slightly, glancing around the room by the surprising light of the clock radio. He didn't remember the motel looking that... spacious, but it had been late when they'd checked in last night, so it was possible his eyes had just been fooled by the darkness. He could hear someone shuffling in the bathroom that stemmed off of the room, and though the door was shut, a golden light seeped out from behind the door. "What the Hell?" he squinted. "Dean?" There was no way that the eldest Winchester would ever be awake at this hour of the morning. Hell, Dean didn't like even opening his eyes before nine thirty on a good day.
Hearing no response, Sam unwillingly threw the blankets off of his legs. His skin was met by unexpected warmth as he flung them over the side of the bed. This peaked his interest, but not as much as Dean's half-silent activities in the bathroom. There again, when he thought of it that way, maybe Sam didn't even want to know. He padded quietly to the bathroom door, and, leaning against it, knocked on it softly. "Uh..." he hesitated. "Whatcha doin' in there?"
Sam shuffled forward as, seconds later, the door moved backwards. Jess stuck her head around the door in a halo of golden light. "Getting ready for work, silly!" she smiled lightly.
Sam stared. Air caught in his lungs, and his eyes melted. He managed a broken, "Oh, of course," but his jaw barely moved when he spoke. Jess shook her head playfully, and closed the door. The shower turned on a moment later, and he could hear her humming softly to herself as she stepped in. Sam still stared at the closed door, though after a while he managed to remember to blink.
After a few more seconds, he backed away and quickly made his way back to the bed. Sinking onto it, he grappled for his phone on the nightstand. He finally found it, and, shakily, scrolled down his contacts list until he found Dean's number. He pushed the button roughly, and waited for his brother to answer.
What he expected was a sleepy, grouchy Dean answering his phone, cursing something about being 'the middle of the night.'
"Hey, Bro!" Dean chortled, picking up on the third ring. "Whassup?" he slurred.
Sam faltered. His brow creased, "Uh, Dean, where are you?"
"At the bar," Sam could practically heard Dean's smirk. "Well, a bar."
"This is important, I need you to come get me."
"Sam, California is miles away!" Dean paused, "Anyway, I don't think I'm in any fit state to, you know, drive..."
"Wait, what? Where are you?"
"Kansas, dumbass."
Sam's expression fell even more so. Panic set in, just a little. "Dean, it's important. Jessica is here."
Dean chuckled down the phone, "Well, duh, Sammy. She is your girlfriend."
Sam heard a 'whoop!' in the background, leading him to conclude that Dean was not alone.
"What?"
"Sam, people usually ask me this question, and my answer is always yes, but have you been drinking?"
"No," Sam spat defensively. What the Hell?
"Well, go back to you apple pie life, Sammy, and I dunno, hit that or something!"
Dean hung up quickly, leaving Sam to listen to a rendition of beeps before the Jess stepped out of the bathroom and turned on the light.
"Who are you talking to?" she asked, smiling as she slipped on her favourite pair of silver shoes.
"Dean," Sam replied dejectedly.
Jessica's smile turned into a frown within an instant, "I thought you weren't... Sam, we agreed you weren't going to talk to him after... everything," she tried to hide the anger in her voice. Sam could always pick when she was covering something up.
"What do you mean?" he asked quickly.
Jess shook her head, "I don't want to talk about it now. Why did he call?"
"He didn't. I needed help." Sam sighed, tossing his phone back on the bedside table. "Turns out he couldn't help me anyway."
Sadness crossed Jessica's eyes, replacing the anger. "I'm sorry," she sighed, and kissed him on the cheek. "I've got to get to work. Can you check up on Ruby for me? I'm a bit worried about her."
Sam looked at her sharply, "Wait, Ruby's here?"
She looked at him uneasily, "Of course she is... where else would she be?" Jess watched Sam for a moment. "I'll be home at five thirty, okay?"
"Sure,"
-
Sam stared warily at the baby's crib. It was a bright pink, with a white lace trim, but what was inside was even scarier.
"Ruby," he repeated, staring at her chubby red cheeks. He glanced down at the salt shaker in his hands, he probably wasn't going to need that. Probably.
The baby cooed, and kicked her tiny feet out in front of her, watching them with interested. Sam raised an eyebrow, and planted the salt shaker down on the change table. As she gargled a little more, a smell that Sam wouldn't all together describe as pleasant filtered into the air. His face fell, and he bit back the urge to gag. "Oh."
