An accident, they called it. An accident with a truck that hit their car.
It had been a stormy day with tons of rain. Sam had lost control over the car and slided on the opposite driving part of the road, where the truck crossed their way. The woman on the seat next to him, his girlfriend Jessica, was dead within a second. But the driver of the truck called the ambulance and brought him to the next hospital. He stood with them until the other Winchesters had arrived and took care of it.

"They were planning to visit us on the weekend.", Dean mumbled, as he took a first look at Sams notes, "They didn't even live that far away."
"Hmm..", John made and got up from the uncomfortable seats in the waiting area. He tried not to look his son in the eyes, since he could see himself reflecting in them. And he still was not sure if he could see his reflections in his yonger sons eyes ever again.
"Why didn't he call, I mean..."
He was suddenly interrupted by a nurse, opening the door to the room with the number 1.27. A room that was supposed to become 'Sam's room' later.
Back then, they were far off from knowing how the story developed in the close future. Still uncertain about the diagnosis and the clean white, that was eating up more than just one mans future and present. Under the same roof there were so many other stories, but one in particular that was about to connect to the tragedy of the Winchesters.