Author's Note : I realize this is a future fic, and that in all likelihood Sam would be done with school by this point... but I also figure that being out of school for so long, he's bound to have to repeat some, if not all semesters. So, for the purpose of this fic, he's still in school.

Also, for those of you who expressed concern, this is not a death-fic! Promise. But you're still going to hate me at the end...

---

Sam loved California. Not just the blue skies and warm weather, and not just the freedom from the life he'd tried for so long to escape. He loved what he was doing, and as a senior, with less than a month left of school, it would soon be his life. The life he wanted, not the life his father had made for him.

He had to smile as his old way of thinking resurfaced, but immediately pushed the thought away. With everything behind him, his heart was lighter than it had been in years. He and his father were even, god help them all, getting along. Regularly keeping in touch, drawn by more than just their mutual worry about the eldest Winchester. With the demon dead, their lives back on track, they finally had the time - and the will - to be a family.

Letting the doors of the classroom shut behind him, Sam took a deep breath of fresh air and smiled. Sure, he had been prolonging what little time time left he had at college by only going part-time, but it was worth it to have the spare time to relax, hold a steady and honest job, and -

A car horn honked, catching his attention, and his smile deepened.

Hefting his backpack, he jogged toward the car at the curb, leaning into the big SUV.

"Hey there, good lookin'," Ashley's smiling face met his. "Need a ride?"

"What are you doing here?" he asked, opening the door and sliding in, setting his backpack on the floor.

"I thought you'd want to go to dinner," she said. "Celebrate?"

"What are we celebrating?" he asked, watching her as she pulled out into traffic.

"Our anniversary, Sammy!" she cried.

He cringed inwardly at the name. "Our anniversary?"

"I can't believe you forgot," she said, not taking her eyes off the road. The beginning signs of a pout crossed her angelic features.

"I'm sorry!" he apologized quickly. "But..."

She laughed suddenly. "Relax, Sam. I know you've had a lot on your mind."

He slumped forward, frowning. "Yeah, but..."

"Sam!" she said, looking over. "Seriously, don't have a fit. It's exactly six months since..."

At her prompting, Sam slapped her head. "You didn't tell me we were celebrating this, too!"

She laughed again, her blue eyes sparkling. "Come on, it's our first apartment together, it's a big deal!"

Sam sighed, but he was still smiling. "Ash, everything's a big deal to you. Last month we celebrated buying our first pet."

"So?" she asked, "that's a big deal!"

"It was a goldfish," he said, burying his face in his hands. "And a week later we had to celebrate our first fishy funeral."

She cringed. "Okay, so maybe I'm not ready for that puppy just yet."

"For the sake of dogs everywhere," he agreed.

"Anyway," she said, turning on to a side road. "I called you, but you didn't answer."

"I was in class," he laughed, amused as always at her ability to forget the most obvious things. "I had my phone on silent."

"Well, yeah," she said. "I knew that."

"Then why'd you call?"

She looked stumped for a moment. "Shut up."

He laughed again, and reached over, grabbing a few strands of her hair. "Blonde moment?"

She offered a dazzling smile. "California, born and bred."

He let go of her hair and brushed his fingers gently across her cheek. "That's why I love you, babe."

"And I thought it was just my rich daddy," she said jovially.

"Well, that and the sex," he said, tugging her hair to let her know he was teasing.

She shoved him away with one hand. "Driving here, mister!"

"Fine," he relented, and settled for digging in his pocket for his cell phone.

Three missed calls.

Shit.

Dialing his voicemail, he reached over to turn the radio, already quiet, down completely. After punching in his password, he sat back and watched the scenery pass as he retrieved the messages.

"Hey, Sam! It's me, just wanted to see if you wanted a ride after class. Whatever, I'll be there. Call me, okay? Love you."

He smiled over at her for a moment.

After Jess he'd begun to doubt his ability to love again. He'd been interested in women, of course, but his fear kept him from taking it any further than that. At first he didn't want to risk anyone getting hurt, but even after they were free from their curse, he was afraid. Afraid that he might not be able to give himself like that again, afraid to lose it if he did.

Then Ashley came along, a friend of a friend who tackled every wall he put up, and made him happier than he'd been in ages. They'd been together just over a year, and six months ago, to the day, they'd moved into together.

He was in love -

"Hello, Mr. Bradley? This is Mercy Hospital in Brookfield, Kentucky. You were listed as next of kin for a patient brought in last night. Um, Dean Bradley? Please call us back at your earliest convenience."

The woman proceeded to rattle off a phone number, thank him, and hang up, without any further explanation.

Sam's heart sank, a sudden chill racing up his spine. His palms were damp, and he had to wipe them on his jeans in order to keep a grip on the phone.

"Sam?" Ashley was saying, and from the sound of it, it wasn't the first time she had spoken. "Sam, what's wrong?"

"I... I need to go home," he said. "Take me home."

"Sammy, what - "

"It's Sam!" he snapped, immediately regretting it.

Her concerned expression only grew as she looked at him. In one fluid motion she flicked on the turn signal, pulled to the side of the road, and put the car in park.

Facing him, ignoring the honks from drivers who had swerved to avoid her sudden stop, she drew her hands into her own. "Sam, I'm going to ignore that, but I need to know what's wrong. You look like your best friend just died."

He faced her, letting the phone drop to his lap, the last message droning on unheard.

"I think he did."

She laughed, and then realized he wasn't joking. "What?"

"I got a message," he said, eyes fixed on the dashboard. "Some hospital in Kentucky."

"What's in Kentucky?" Ashley asked, gripping his hands harder.

Sam looked up, face pale.

"My brother."

---

He was on the road by six o' clock, behind the wheel of Ashley's blue Durango, driving like a bat out of hell.

Like his brother behind the wheel of a hot rod, he thought with a grim smile.

He couldn't remember getting a call like this before. No, usually he was right beside Dean when he got his ass kicked to hell and back. Usually he was the one to patch him up, or drive him to a hospital if it was something their well stocked kits couldn't treat. He'd been by his side through it all, stitching up his brother's wounds and waking him every few hours to make sure his most recent concussion wouldn't be his last.

He'd been the one to save his brother's life when doctor's gave him a month to live. And an innocent life or not, damned if he wouldn't do it again. He didn't like admitting that, but he couldn't pretend, not to himself.

They hadn't heard from him in three years... three god forsaken years of wondering if he was alive or face down dead in a gutter somewhere. And now, he'd made his return. Not by choice, but because someone had found him on the side of the road, thought he was dead, and called the cops. It took them twenty-five minutes from dispatch to arrival, to figure out the corpse spotted in the dust was not a corpse at all.

Now the nurses told him, hurry, he's fading fast.

Hurry, we're not sure...

And so he hurried.

Sam fucking flew.