This story may become 4 parts instead of 3. Just an FYI.
Part Two
Pepper loves Christmas, therefore the entire house is lit up like the north pole. There's garland, white string lights and baked goods as far as the eye can see. This year things are over the top due to Sam being gone for the better part of three weeks. It leaves her ample time to make whip up enough cookies and pies for a small army. As usual he only gave her vague details about his work. He told her it was a high priority case, nothing to worry about, just time consuming surveillance and lots of research.
What little she knows of private investigation she's gathered from episodes of Cold Case Files and late night reruns of Magnum PI. From what she can tell Sam and his brother seem to be fairly good at what they do. Dean doesn't seem like a "canvas the neighborhood" kind of guy so she wonders what precisely what the job entails. She's a bit naive but not a Polly Anna by any means. Sam lies, Pepper ignores it.
Pepper's always had an overactive imagination. She fills her days with holiday decorations and distractions to keep mind from wandering to thoughts of Sam sipping cocktails in a smoke filled bar with a busty brunette or being shot in some back alley speakeasy Dick Tracy style.
She says the same thing to him every time he's leaving, "Try not to get plugged by a mobster, kay?"
He gives her the uniform Sam grin of amusement and chuckles. "I'll do my best."
.^.
It's one week before Christmas, nineteen days since Sam left and sixteen hours since last he called. She glances at her cell phone, just to make sure it's still working, and then turns back to her kitchen counter where she's in middle of the mixing the crust for her third and forth pie of the day. A five pound bag of flour has just slipped from her hands and exploded in a cloud of white poof when she hears a key in the front door.
Sam stands in the foyer taking stock of the decorations, the house looks like a ridiculous department store display complete with holiday jingles playing softly in the background. He's never been a Christmas spirit kind of guy but Pepper said she was having none of his bad attitude and apparently she means it. "Hey, are you home-" he starts to call out to her, dropping his backpack to the floor where a two foot tall battery operated Santa begins singing: you better watch out, you better not cry…
"Sam!" Pepper is suddenly in front of him, her socked feet sliding to a halt on the hardwood. "Hey!" a wide and happy smile spreads quickly over her face. She is sight for sore eyes. Standing there in front of the staircase in nothing but a pair of white socks and one of his button ups, which fits her more like a oversized dress with the sleeves rolled up above her elbows. The hem of the shirt hits her mid-thigh and he's never been happier to see someone forego pants in life. She's dosed in some unknown white power.
"Did you develop a cocaine problem while I was gone or are you baking?" Sam smirks as she looks down at herself and laughs.
"Baking, attempting to anyway." She takes a step toward him and her brow furrows. Sam immediately wonders what she's looking at until he realizes it's his face.
"It's just a black eye, I'm fine. Honest." He holds his hands palms up in her direction. It's better to start reassuring right away before she gets a chance to get too worked up.
"Your eye is swollen half shut." She bites her lip, getting close enough to peer up at his bruise.
"I'm fine." Sam reaches out and pulls her into an embrace. She melts into his chest forgetting her concerns about his shiner and wraps an arm around his waist.
"I missed you." Pepper mumbles into his shirt and then he's kissing her. Her wonderful, soft lips are on his, two small hands on either side of his face, pulling him down. She hums excited when his tongue finds hers and she reaches up for his shoulder pulling herself enough that he gets the fact that she wants to be picked up. Her legs are around his waist before he can think, grinding into his stomach. He surveys the room looking for the closest piece of furniture to set her down.
He entertains the idea of fucking her up against the wall, but instead moves toward to the small table just inside the front door. He sets her down, the moment her ass touches the table her hands are reaching for his belt buckle, still sighing eagerly into his mouth as he kisses her with teeth and tongue. Sam jumps when she yanks down his boxers enough to let his dick pull free and stand at attention in her grasp. He wastes no time pulling her panties down her legs and then it's a mad scramble as they both move at the same time, Sam pulls her thighs apart, skin is warm under his hands but doesn't distract him as they both breath hard and heavy until he's pushing the head of his cock into her and everything goes silent.
Sam slides home and screws his eyes shut for a moment in an attempt to not pop before he even starts, there nothing but silence for a split second then he bottoms out. "Sam, Fuck" she hisses and he opens his eyes and looks at her face twisted in lust and he starts to move. Long, rough strokes that make the flimsy table wobble, but make Pepper moan and whine like he's never heard her before.
She comes quick and easy, doesn't even take a touch of his fingers, just the stutter of his hips and she's pulsing around him, saying his name in short breaths. Just the idea of her coming from nothing but his dick is enough to send him right behind her, popping hot inside her.
Sam looks down at her to find her looking right back and he chuckles as she drops her head to his chest and pants, then laughs right along with him. "I missed you too."
.^.
Three days before Christmas, Sam takes Pepper downtown so she can pick up a few last minute gifts.
They have dinner at The Bull's Head. It's more of a biker bar than a restaurant, but they have the best fried clams in the state. While she was growing up it was her father that took her here. Sipping a beer, while his daughter shook her pigtails to the beat of Rush on the jukebox.
These days it's the same music on the stereo, just a different man that drives her there.
"Go in and grab a table, I'll be right there." Sam urges, his hand is on the small of her back, nudging her inside. His cryptic phone calls are nothing new.
She watches him through the window. Sam paces back and forth across the gravel parking lot. There should be snow on the ground, but instead it's just an ice cold, New England winter. Sam's snorts angry puffs like heavy smoke into the air. He looks pissed, lumbering like a grumpy giant, complete with displeased grimace and brooding shoulders. She wonders who he's talking to.
He looks over his shoulder, as if someone would be watching him and heads inside. "Everything alright?" Pepper asks.
"Oh, yeah." He nods his head confidently, giving her the patented Sam Winchester smile. "Just Dean."
"Oh." She flashes a grin and turns her attention to Coke in front of her. He may think all it takes is a flash of her pearly white but she's been sharing a house, and a bed with him for a year. His eyes are always the tell. Sam can lie like champ but she always knows and for a reason unknown to even herself, she never calls him out. But now she knows fact from fiction.
She knows his lies. Maybe it wasn't Dean on the phone. She wonders for a split second if Sam has another girlfriend somewhere else. Maybe that's the real reason he's gone so much, why he never tells the truth. She dismisses it immediately but the thought nags at her. She can put up with a lot In the name of being in love…but eventually something has to give.
"It's been a while since we had clams." He playfully knocks her foot under the table, this time the smile Sam gives her is one hundred percent genuine. As usual the right look from him is enough to let her suspicion melt into the background.
"I know. Too long, can't let this happen again." The waitress brings beer, then food and they spend on a normal, happy evening in each other's company.
Later, they're walking gloved hand in gloved hand on the pier, when a scrawny kid with rosy red, pock marked cheeks steps out of nowhere. It feels like slow motion, takes time to register that he's waving a gun in their direction.
"Give me your purse!" the kid yells hoarsely at Pepper and his voice cracks like a scared little boy. "You too, your wallet." The kid motions to Sam.
Sam can feel Pepper frozen like a statue beside him and as he turns to look at her the mugger begins to panic at her lack of compliance. The kid points the pistol at Pepper's chest and Sam reacts the only way he knows how. He lunges forward, the guns discharges, firing into the pavement, but then it's one smooth move before he's disarmed and on the ground. The kid ends up handcuffed to a gurney, in the back of an ambulance, with a broken arm.
Sam gives a quick and succinct statement to the police. Pepper doesn't say a word. She stands beside him, pressed into his side, under his arm as he speaks for the both of them.
Pepper is silent as she sits tacit and stiff in the passenger seat of his Taurus. She has her eyes locked out the front windshield and stays seated as he parks the car in the driveway.
They both start to speak at the same time.
"Pepper are you OK, because you haven't said-"
"I can't believe you did that you could have-"
Sam falls silent as she turns toward him, she blinks forcing fat tears down her cheek and Sam feels a pang in his gut. He hates to see her cry and knowing it's because of something he had a part in is even worse. He waits for her to fall apart. Instead she takes a deep breath and composes herself.
"I thought you were gonna die." She states calmly. "I heard that gun go off and I thought he'd shot you."
"Believe me, if I end up getting shot it's not going to be by a first time mugger." He smiles to himself and then immediately wants to take back his words. She's confused, terrified and looking at him with wet eyes.
"What does that mean Sam?" Pepper shakes her head and anger flashes hot in her eyes. She rarely gets angry, it scares Sam for moment. "So this was, like, a run of the mill occurrence for you? Wrestling a gun away from someone? Jesus Sam…"
"No, I didn't mean it like that. I didn't…" He shifts in the seat, leaning toward her in an attempt to somehow make this right. Help her to understand. "It's just that Dean and I have seen a lot of things, we've been in the middle of worse situations and I know how to handle myself. I would never had gone for that gun I thought there was chance someone would get hurt."
"I was really scared." She looks to her lap where she's ringing her hands together, "I love you. You know that right?"
She glances at him with trepidation, waiting wide eyed for his response. They've been together over a year and it's the first time she's said those words.
Sam takes a pregnant breath. "I know. I love you too."
"Good." She whispers and leans toward him. He awkwardly hugs her as best he can through their puffy winter coats.
.^.
"What about your brother?" Pepper asks sucking syrup of her thumb and passing Sam a bowl of sweet potatoes.
"Terrible idea." He replies succinctly, accepting her offering and spooning a mountain of onto his plate.
"Come on, just a day or two. I don't know him at all, you only let me meet him once."
"Dean is just…he's Dean and he's a lot to handle. That's all"
"I'm a big girl. I think I can handle it."
"It's really not a good idea Pepper."
"Why is it such a ridiculous idea that I get to know your brother. What, are you hiding some deep dark secret."
Sam tenses for a split second but plasters an amused grin on his face. "Nothing worth knowing."
"I just wish sometimes…I wish you'd tell me the truth baby. Even I get sick of stories after a while."
They don't speak for the rest of the night and Sam sleeps on the couch. In the morning Pepper wakes him up with soft hands running through his hair and the smell of fresh coffee. They don't talk about the conversation the night before, ever. Instead she acts like nothing happens and Sam's grateful.
.^.
It's warmer than usual for March in New England. Then again there's hardly been any snow all winter so everyone chalks it up to the effect of global warming and moves on.
At first the news reports seem like any other random violence, but it gets progressively worse. Things start happening all over the world. There are floods and earth quakes and hurricanes. She gets scared. Sam tells her to stop watching CNN. But Pepper's a smart girl, she's seen him reading the paper and taking notes. She knows he's seeing the pattern too.
.^.
Sam leaves for a job with his brother. Packing a bag and being gone for a week is nothing new but his attitude leading up to the departure is what worries her. In the weeks leading up to the big job he's distant, not that he isn't always painfully hush-hush about the majority of his life but she knows it something different. He's looses the light in the eyes when he smiles at her, she can see his mind wandering a thousand other places, trying to work out whatever it is bothering him.
The night before he leaves, he eats his dinner silently, stealing despondent glances when he thinks she's not looking. She's watching him shovel a fork load of green beans into his mouth when she feels it; something almost undetectable, a flutter in her stomach that sets her on edge. She shifts in her chair, pushing her potatoes around her plate thinking about the feeling of dread that's somehow passed from Sam to her without consciousness.
Pepper wonders if he's planning to leave her.
They spend the evening on the couch in the living room, Donnie Darko is playing on the television but neither of them pay much attention. Sam sits next to her, leaving enough room between them to fill an ocean. By nine-thirty she's convinced herself that he is indeed planning on breaking it off. It's the only explanation.
Warm, reassuring Sam is somewhere else now, the Sam sitting next to her is hard and cold. A person she doesn't recognize.
She starts to cry, a single tear sliding down her cheek. She mutely wipes her eyes, feels Sam shift beside her.
"Hey" he mumbles, then all she feels are his arms around her, holding her tight, too tight but it's not unwelcome. He's hardly touched her for the better part of two weeks. He scoops her easily into his lap and Pepper pressed her face into the hot skin if his neck, breathing in his smell, tries to memorize it. In case it's the last time she gets the chance. "Don't cry." He mumbles at her shoulder, squeezes her even tighter and she squirms at the pressure.
"Are you leaving?" she whispers. Doesn't want to hear the answer.
Sam snuffs, pulls her shoulders back so she has to look at look at him. His eyes are wet. "For a little while." Pepper's body goes stiff, panicky, and she shakes her head feverishly.
"No, Sam, no," she stutters, pawing at his face, "Did I do something? Whatever it is I can-"
"Shhh," he hushes her, his eyes are painful to look at. A broken stutter as he implores her to listen. "It's not like that. I'm not leaving like that, not leaving you. There's something big coming, I can't explain but I can't be with you while it's happening. You'd be in danger. I won't do that. I can't"
"Sam I don't understand, what's happening?" Her eyes are big and wide. He wants to split himself open and tell her everything. He wants to tell her about Jess, about his dad…about hell on earth.
"I know." He replies quietly.
That night he makes love to her slow and sweet. She barely makes a noise, instead she kisses his lips again and again as he moves inside her. Sam holds her afterward, her face resting on his collar bone. He can feel her breathing unsteady as their fingers braid together. Hands stroking and moving leisurely with meaning. He whispers gently words of love and commitment that make even more tears fall. He tells her he loves her and that home is not a place for him anymore. Home is with her.
He leaves before sunrise the next morning. He's careful not to wake her, he doesn't think he could he resist her pleas to stay. He thinks about running away. It's a fleeting thought as he kisses her shoulder, rolls off the bed and walks out the front door.
Sam knows he might never come back.
Four Months Later
Pepper sits on the cold, off white linoleum of the kitchen, a joint in one hand as the Fiona Apple croons from the stereo through the night and drifts impossibly inside her head.
Most night since he left she spends in a bath with a book and a bottle of wine. A whole bottle of wine. But tonight there's something oppressive about the way her loneness is suffered. She takes another hit, wipes the sweat from her forehead, contemplating the long trek upstairs to bed when she hears it.
The key in the front door.
By the time she rounds the corner from the dining room into the entry way he's standing like a looming giant. Her breath catches and he looks up to see her.
"Oh god." She gulps, one hand covering her mouth.
It's not just his beaten face, or the fact that he looks like he's been up for days, dark circles and bruises blending together. There's something else. Sam looks up at her with threatening eyes, dark eyes she's hasn't seen before. He twitches his shoulders, then steadies himself. She can smell the liquor wafting off him, the pungent smell of whiskey and bar smoke permeating the room.
Pepper doesn't move. She stands and watches him watch her. For the first time since she's known him he's scaring her. He's terrifying. He looks like he could tear someone in half.
He lists to one side, and she involuntarily jumps, recoils. He reacts liked she's slapped him.
"I should go." He nods with a disgusted smile on his face. His voice is almost unrecognizable, it sounds like a memory of Sam now laced with venom and betrayal. He gives her a dismissive look and swings himself toward the door.
"No Sam," She pleads instantly, her voice breaking like shattered glass. He reaches for the doorknob and Pepper scurries up behind him, grabs his arm and he pitches back around, snaking his arm from her grasp, his eyes lit up, wild. For a split second she's sure that he's going to slap her, but he clenches his jaw and lets out a deep sigh.
There's a spark of confession. Pepper is suddenly hyper aware that he's reading her reactions like an open book. He knows she's afraid of him. She steps closer, bridging the gap so there's hardly room to breath between them. Sam's ticks his jaw.
"Don't' go." She whispers simply.
The silence that follows is horrifying. She's confused and scared. She can't imagine what's happened that he would return to her like this. Before this her worst fear is that he wouldn't come back to her all, but now it's clear that something much worse has already, or is about, to happen.
His eyes flutter to the side, hiding from her and he speaks, utterly deadpan, "Dean is gone."
Her mouth falls open, she intends for words to come out but instead a muffled oh escapes and then he lunges at her. There's a chaotic moment of confusion. She feels like a freight train comes at her head on, knocking her breathless. She blinks, her mouth open in a gasp, then comes the realization that he's picked her up. He hitches her thighs around his hips with one hand splayed under her ass and the other crushing around her back with a vice grip.
His mouth covers her own like a hungry animal, nothing gentle or loving. Just the painful scrap of his teeth and almost violent crush of his mouth. It seems like he's taken two steps but somehow they're upstairs, in the bedroom.
Sam smells like blood and dirt and day old whiskey.
She's naked in a heartbeat and then he's pulling her into his lap with a vice grip. She goes willingly.
He fucks her so hard it hurts. She has to do nothing other than comply as he flexes his hips up and pulls her down at the same time, surging into her in a single thrust that knocks the air out of her chest as her eyes burst wide. She's too tight and unprepared, bares her teeth and whimpers as he stretches her wide without warning. Sam's tongue tastes like sour mash against her own, she opens her mouth wider to take as much of him in as wants. She makes another strangled noise as he moves her on his cock, snapping up into her fast and rough until her cunt begins to slick enough that it become a little less about pain and more about the conflicted mix of pleasure and dominance that swells like raw heat in her belly.
Sam grunts and puffs into the hollow of her neck, sounding like he's about to explode. "Sam," she struggles, somewhere between a plea for him so slow down and begging for him not to stop at same time. He snarls at the sound of his own name.
He flips her swiftly, bending her in half with his arms hooked under her knees and grinds back into her so deep so she claws at his shoulders, muttering indiscernible words as he lifts his head to looks at her.
There's a fleeting moment when she see meets his gaze and then like a trigger has been pulled she comes. She comes like a force of nature, whole body pulsing, pinned under the full force of Sam's weight and feeling every inch of where he's moving inside her.
She falls lax under him as it rushes over her and then as her raw nerves begin to frey she can hearing clearly the slap of his hips as he continues to fuck her earnestly, pushing into her with fierce need until the last, harsh thrusts push him over the edge. He presses his face into her check when he comes, popping hot inside her and crying out, stifled, until the pitch of his body stops.
Pepper lays motionless beneath him, caged by his body until he catches his breath and lift himself up enough to free her legs and pull out.
He slides defeated to her side, half on top of her with his face pressed into the pillow beside her head. His breathing slows and just when she thinks he's asleep he turns so that his mouth touches the shell of her ear. "I'm sorry." He whispers.
"Don't be." Is all she has. It seems to be enough. She has no idea what to say to him. He's been gone for over a month, comes back drunk, bleeding and tells her his brother died. She has no idea where to even start. Or if she should.
Sam's still for a long time, but follows her when she heads for the shower. Silently lathers his hair, then hers. By the same she towels herself off he's already changed the sheets and is half asleep on crisp linen.
The next morning he eats her out until she's crawling up the headboard. After, he holds her, kisses her softly and tells her how much he missed her, and loves her and she's all he has now.
Everything changes after that morning.
He tells her he has to work, that it's the only thing that can take his mind off Dean. It's not the work that she minds, it everything else that seems to come with this new Sam. He leaves for days at time without telling her, doesn't call, just comes home drunk and angry.
A few weeks pass and things are worse. He eats the food she cooks, sits next to her while she watches late night TV, and fucks her almost every night he's home but there's no affection.
He's broken and she feel lost and helpless. She has no idea where to even begin because he won't talk to her, won't tell her anything about how Dean died, or even where he's buried. He just glares and shakes his head like she's on dangerous ground for even bring it up.
For the next several months he comes and goes as he pleases. Pepper doesn't try to stop him.
He stops drinking, comes home after a long stint away with a fresh, clean face and some kind of steely new determination.
And then one day he tells her something completely unexpected over pizza and beer. "We thought there was accident, when Dean was hurt. We couldn't find his body. But it turns out he's alive. He's been a hospital in Orlando all this time. Can you believe it?"
No, she really can't believe it but she doesn't tell him that. "Wow baby, that's amazing. A miracle. We have to go see him."
Sam smiles wide and his eyes light up. She feels her stomach drop. In her mind the same phrase keeps replaying….the beginning of the end….
