A/N: I know this prompt has kind of been ground into the ground, and that I really shouldn't start another multi-chapter fic until Midnight Train is done, but...I couldn't help myself. I love this prompt. Enjoy!

-Jaq

"The only way to make it through with hearts and wrists intact is to realize that two out of three ain't bad." -I'm Like A Lawyer The Way I'm Always Trying To Get You Off, Fall Out Boy

"You'll be amazing, Sam," Jessica said, hugging him tightly. Stepping back, she critically adjusted his tie for the fourth time., her fingers lingering a second longer than necessary. "Trust me."

Sam smiled nervously, looking down at his girlfriend, his eyes a little anxious. "I hope so."

It was November third. The day Sam had been waiting for for...well, months. Ever since that letter had come in the mail, he had been practically counting down the days.

And it was finally there. Today would decde Sam's future. He really had to stop thinking about it like that. Just calm down, he told himself. Deep breaths. Having a panic attack, now, wouldn't do anything.

"Shoo!" Jess laughed. "You wanted to get out the door by 8:23; it's 8;24 now."

Sam glanced at his watch, and saw to his horror that Jess was correct. Flashing a dimple, he smiled nervously. "Bye, Jess," Sam said, biting his lip. He walked out of the door quickly, his hands feeling a little sweaty. Jess smiled back at him from the doorway, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet.

"Crush it, Sam!" She called, her smile lighting up her face.

Sam returned her smile, if only halfway. Nervous as he was, Jessica's enthusiasm was infectious.

The walk to the office seemed like the longest twenty minutes of his life. The entire time he was checking and doublechecking. Deoderant? Check. Breath mint (it didn't pay to have your interviewer's first impression of you be how much cream you put in your coffee)? Check. His résumé was sent in already. It was all going to be okay. More than okay. It was going to be great. The interview was at nine. It was 8:47. It was okay. It was okay.

Ten minutes later, Sam was seated in front of an imposing woman with a no-nonsense hairdo and an intense expression.

"Samuel Winchester," she stated, glancing at the young man from behind glasses.

"Yes ma'am. You can call me Sam," Sam said, praying she couldn't somehow sense his racing heart.

She made a noncommittal noise and leaned forward slightly. "So, Sam. Tell me why you want to be a lawyer..."

Three weeks later, a letter arrived at their apartment. A very official letter, marked Stanford Law in big, red letters. Sam sat down, Jess hovering over him.

"Open it," she begged, her anticipation tangible.

Sam grimaced, trying not to get his hopes up.

Samuel Winchester, we are delighted to inform you of your acceptance into Stanford Law...

Sam didn't read anymore. Behind him, Jess gave out a shriek and hugged him from behind. Sam stood, tears (because men were definitely, totally allowed to cry, especially when they just got into Stanford Law School) marring his vision, and embraced Jess back. They stood there, crying, and Sam had never felt happier. Not ever.

As it turned out, being admitted to law school did not make one a lawyer. And it was hard, and long, and Sam often stayed up all night doing his homework.

In his free time, he shopped for rings. Jess had small hands, beautiful hands. And Sam wanted the perfect ring.

The years crawled by. Sam and Jess were engaged, but they kept putting their wedding off. Not while Sam was in law school and Jess was in medical school. Once they were done with school. But not just yet.

And before Sam knew it, he was studying for the bar exam. Months of studying, staying up until the wee hours, falling asleep with gigantic textbooks strewn about. All for one stupid test.

Which, he discovered three months later, he passed, with flying colors.

The only thing left was the background check, and honestly, it was what Sam had been most afraid of. Moving around every month since you were six months old isn't a great record.

Apparently, that didn't matter, though, and after only having to lie twice (and only then about his mother's death and how it happened), Sam was accepted. He was an attorney. A real, honest-to-God lawyer.

Jess wanted a spring wedding.

Sam agreed easily. May 8th, 2009. Please come to witness the union of Samuel Winchester and Jessica Moore...

Sam picked up his phone, scrolling through his contacts. Dean's number had been taken of speed dial years ago, but he still had it. Smiling, he dialed.

We're sorry, the cool, feminine voice replied. this number is unavailable. It may be out of service, disused, or otherwise unavailable. You may try again later, or dial 411 for information. Have a nice day.

Sam felt a twang of guilt. He hadn't really spoken to his brother in- what, going on seven or eight years now (that time last year Dean drunk-dialed him didn't count)? Time really did fly. He wondered vaguely if Dean was still hunting with their father.

But if Dean had ever wanted to get hold of him, it wasn't hard. So Sam didn't feel too bad. After all, his brother hadn't tried to contact Sam either.

He still wanted to get in touch, though. Dean would be happy for him, right? He'd be excited that his little brother was getting married.

Well, Sam could call him again tomorrow, after his first case (and didn't that give him a thrill. First case!).

Sam adjusted his tie, grabbed his file and reviewed it one last time. It was a John Ridley. Multiple accounts of murder, credit card fraud, and theft. Sam had a very solid case against him. This would be simple- he could blow it out of the park. Sam knew that a lot of firms would be watching this. He was "promising," after all.

Giving Jess a quick goodbye kiss on the cheek, he smiled and walked out the door.

He sat on the bus reviewing the file. The accused had been caught with blood on his hands-literally- and a dead woman tied to a chair several feet away. It was gruesome, and Sam shuddered. He couldn't imagine what would make someone want to do that.

Checked his watch. 10:32. The trial didn't start until 11, but it never hurt to be early.

10:50. Sam greeted the public attorney who would be arguing for Ridley (and Sam pitied the man- how did one fight for the rights of a serial killer, rapist, and identity thief?) with a nod of the head and took his seat. He was nervous, but calm, too. He could do this. He had prepared, and this wasn't exactly a hard case.

10:55. The accused was brought out. Sam thought the man looked familiar, somehow, as he was ushered in.

And then he saw the accused from the front. No. No, this couldn't be happening. And he saw it in the prisoner's eyes, shock mixed with-could it be? Even now, pride- as he looked into the face of the man fighting for his indefinite jail-time (or, frankly, death).

"Hiya, Sammy," Dean mouthed, smirking. "Long time no see."

A/N 2: To be continued...well, I hope that that wasn't too bad! It wouldn't kill you to leave a review, so...you should do that! A note on the song lyric: the two out of three are the wrists; your heart or trust may be broken but you're still here and that's what matters. I'll leave you with that! Thanks for reading :)

-Jaq

To whom it concerns: I will be updating Midnight Train tomorrow, have no fear.