Sam slept on that whole night without waking from his soundless sleep. The nightmares and terrors for once hadn't chased him into dreamland.

After Dean got him to eat some crackers, followed by a mug of coffee, they got ready to go to the little flower shop a few blocks away.

Sam was already standing by the door, fidgeting nervously, while Dean was still searching for some clean socks amidst all the dirty ones. He grimaced, (they really needed to get to doing laundry, soon).

"Dean, are you almost ready?" came Sam's faint voice.

And Dean gave up on finding clean socks.

Sam was restless, and to his relief, they finally got out the motel room and were then on their way to buy flowers.

Flowers, for her.

He felt more rested than he had in days. Finally a night without any interruptions—only dreamless sleep. No nightmares that left him waking up screaming and shaking, drenched in sweat.

Sam glanced at his brother who was walking next to him; Dean looked a little more rested, too.

(Little did he know it was not only the undisturbed night's sleep that has Dean looking more rested).

Sam lifted his face and looked up at the grey morning sky. He sighed. The stormy clouds promised one thing: rain.

Their walk was silent. And soon, the first drops showered down on them, making small, wet circles on the pavement.

Sam shivered a little and he buried himself a little deeper into his jacket against the crisp November wind that blew.

Luckily, they soon arrived at the little flower shop.

"Wait here," Sam told his brother. Dean nodded and leaned against the brick wall of the shop, crossing his arms, sheltering under the pent.

Sam swallowed and pushed against the door and stepped inside, a jingle of a bell making his entry known.

The sweet smell of flowers wafted through the air, and everywhere he looked were all kinds of plants and flowers, stacked on shelves and standing in buckets.

"Can I help you, dear?"

When Sam turned around, a little old lady was standing before him, wiping her hands on a faded green apron.

"Ehh." Suddenly his throat was tight and his eyes hot.

She tilted her head.

He swiped a hand over his eyes. "I'm looking for a bouquet of asters." Sam managed to croak out.

0000

He stood before her grave again, a small bouquet of beautiful white and purple asters in his hand. Dean was standing next to him.

Sam swallowed, tears wanting to make an appearance again.

"This is for you, Jess," he whispered, and he carefully laid down the small bouquet.

Sam stood back, and at that exact moment, the sun decided to break through the rain clouds; bathing everything in a watery golden glow and making the droplets sparkle.

Sam sucked in a breath; it was a beautiful sight.

He felt Dean laying down a hand on his shoulder, squeezing softly.

Sam's breath hitched, but he bit down on whatever wanted to crawl up and out of his chest.

Dean's hand squeezed harder, reassuring him.

"They are beautiful flowers, Sammy. She would have loved them."

Sam nodded tightly.

And then they stood there, in silence, the sunlight causing everything to sparkle brilliantly.

"I'm so sorry, Sammy," Dean said softly.

"Yeah," Sam whispered back hoarsely, "me too."

Hello :)

Here is the third part of this story (and probably the last part, but who knows :P )

All the mistakes are mine.

Hope you enjoyed!