Light blinked inside the big SUV as the young adults drove through the forested region. Holes in the foliage allowed the light through, but the real spectacular sight was the trees themselves. Tall, lush and green, standing tall and proud against the blue sky, branches bending slightly in the wind and the leaves making a lazy rustle. The windows were down and Jessica's long curly blonde hair flew into his face, tickling his nose.

"Sorry." She said sheepishly and pulled her hair out of his face. She started to pull her hair back into a rubber band and he stopped her. Took the tie out of her hand and encouraged her to lay her head back down on his shoulder.

"No, don't move. You're fine. I kinda like having your hair in my face. It smells nice. Flowery."

"Flowery?" She asked amused and laid her head back down on his shoulder.

"You have to give me a break Jess, I didn't have a female presence in my life growing up, just two very big, jocks. Their idea of a good smells were warm car oil, gasoline, and beer."

"That what your dad and Dean do? They mechanics?" His hand stilled in her hair. She didn't look up; she kept her head down, her body tense, hoping that he would share a little bit about his life before Stanford other than an occasional story about "Uncle Bobby". His silence was heavy; the sounds of the conversation in the front of the car even seemed softer with Sam's silence. The stilled hand in her hair suddenly felt heavy.

"Don't Jess." He said softly. "I don't want to talk about them." She gritted her teeth; he shut her down every single time she tried to talk about his family. She had gotten a thing or two out about Dean before spring break, but now, he wouldn't say anything about Dean especially and he still wouldn't talk about his dad. The father had always been a subject that was off limits, and now that off limits sign was bigger and brighter, and there seemed to be a fence surrounding it with a guard dog growling in the background. She, like always, let it go.

When she had met Dean for that brief moment last Thanksgiving, he didn't seem like a bad person, he looked normal, hell he had been gorgeous, much like his brother. He was definitely more rugged. More blue collar and definitely not someone you would see around Stanford, but he didn't seem like someone you would be afraid to let out of the family dirty secret closet. He wasn't drooling and clapping his hands at nothing, and talking to the spots on the wall, he seemed really put together, and hurt. She had definitely noted the hurt surrounded the older man. Sometimes, she wondered if any of that hurt was her Sam's fault. Her thoughts were interrupted when he started stroking her hair again. Obviously he had relaxed, she was grateful for that. A tense Sam was a disturbing Sam.

When Kyle pulled off of the main road onto a gravel one, Jessica sat up. "We there Kyle?" she asked. Kyle's girlfriend, Samantha, turned around and smiled.

"Yeah we are." The SUV pulled to a stop in front of a cabin that reminded Sam of many they had squatted in as children, waiting for their father to come home from a hunt, drunk and so whacked out of his mind that the most he could do was sit down and stare at a wall. Dean always tucked Sam into bed and went to deal with their father. Sometimes, Sam had snuck out of his bed and through a crack in the door had watched as his brother unlaced his father's boots, took the bottle of whatever liquor he had out of his hands, and put a reassuring hand on his father's shoulder and said "It's okay Dad. You got them. It's one step closer to getting the thing that killed Mom."

Sam shook the cobwebs from his head and got out of the SUV, another car pulled up behind them and another couple of friends got out. Sam smiled and pulled his and Jessica's bag out of the backseat of the car and shut the door.

They greeted the new couple and Kyle led the small group of young people into the cabin. While the outside had reminded Sam of the cabins they had squatted in, the inside was something out of the pages of a magazine. Pristine surfaces, two large couches, cluttered with pillows, a fireplace, and a kitchen off to the side. A kitchen equipped with modern conveniences like a refrigerator and a stove. There would definitely be no need to go fishing in a nearby stream, and most certainly no need to cook the fish that were caught on a stick in a fire built out of whatever wood was easiest to obtain. That realization sort of panged at Sam's heart. Those were some of the good memories of his childhood. He knew now, that Dean had probably been scared to death when he realized there wasn't enough food, or that he didn't have a means of keeping milk cold and that fish needed to be cooked yet he didn't have a stove to cook them on. But Dean, Dean had always made sure that little Sammy was fed and cared for, he never let his fear show to his little brother. Now that Sam was older, he wondered just how terrified Dean had really been.

The cars were unpacked, coolers taken care of, refrigerator stocked with enough food to feed a small army, and the bags had been put in the rooms and the girls were in there getting the rooms ready. Sam went upstairs and found Jessica putting her clothes into a dresser.

"I put your shaving stuff in the bathroom, your clothes are in the drawer next to mine."

"Jess, we are only staying for a week."

"I know, but it is a romantic get away, we shouldn't have to worry about where our socks are." Sam smiled and ran his hands up and down her arms. They looked at themselves in the mirror, Sam standing behind her. They were a beautiful couple. Sam knew then that he wanted to marry this girl. When they got back to Stanford he was going to shop for rings. It was time to take another step in getting the normal life he wanted.

Dinner was fun. There was a lot of food that was prepared by girls who were more used to professionals cooking for them than actually cooking themselves, so what had been prepared looked like it was thrown together by a cook who didn't quite know what to make so they just made sides. Rice, potatoes, vegetables, apple sauce, and oddly enough a cake. The food albeit odd was really good. But the food wasn't the reason any of them enjoyed the meal, the conversation had been fun and pleasant and solidified the group even more so as friends.

The conversation took them late into the evening and they only quitted the table when Kyle and Zach announced that their asses were numb and they wanted to get out of the hard wood chairs. It was decided that the dishes could wait until morning, and Zach said that they needed a fire in the fire place. The girls reminded him that it was June and he said that they could turn on the air conditioner. The girls laughed at him and it was decided that they would put candles in the fireplace to simulate a fire and they all got themselves situated in the living room. Jessica sat in front of Sam, leaned into his chest and enjoyed the solidness of his frame and the strength in the arms that surrounded her.

"I think we should turn off the lights and tell ghost stories." Emily said snuggling closer to Zach. A resounding "yeah" was heard from the group. Sam inwardly groaned. He really hated ghost stories. He really hated everything to do with ghosts, ghouls and urban legends. While the rest of them pretended these things existed, Sam pretended that they didn't exist and throw very sold, very stubborn, very much live brothers into walls, or break his ribs, or slash him up.

The fist story, that Zach told, was lame. It was actually something he had watched, that they all had watched, and he ended up with pillows in his face for his efforts. Kyle was next and he managed a semi original tale that didn't scare anyone, they had it figured out before he finished the first three sentences, because he emphasized the name of the killer like an idiot.

"Okay, Sam see if you can do any better." Kyle said with a smirk.

"Nah. I don't know any."

"Come on, don't be a spoil sport." Samantha added.

"Look at your girlfriend you can't deny that face." Emily included. And sure enough when he looked down he found Jessica's face in a pout. He rolled his eyes, sighed and resettled and finally said 'okay'.

He licked his lips trying to think of something. "Well," he started, licked his lips again. "Once there was this guy. Just your regular average nobody. But he was someone. He saved lives for a living. Not the kind of living where you get paid, but the kind of living you made when you knew you made a difference."

"And we all know that kind of living ain't worth squat." Kyle said jokingly. Samantha hit him in the face with the pillow.

"Come on. This guy sounds noble. Sounds like a hero. So much more interesting than the chick clad in nothing but a bikini that you were telling us about." Kyle snickered. "Go on Sam tell the story."

Sam licked his lips again, Jessica wondered briefly why this story was making him nervous."No one ever thanked him, or even knew his name, but he saved their lives from things that go bump in the night. Well, one day he pulled up in this car that was so precious to him that its paint job gleamed in the moonlight-"

"What kind of car is it?" Zach asked.

"A muscle car. I don't know. Just a really cool old car." Sam hedged. "Anyway, he pulled up to this house that looked like it hadn't been lived in for years. He had heard that several teenagers had died in the house and no one could figure out what exactly killed them. This guy.."

"What's his name?" Emily asked.

"Michael." Sam said quickly. "Michael had done some research and found that every 20 years someone was killed in this house. He armed himself with a gun filled with rock salt…"

"Rock salt?" Jessica asked.

"Symbol of purity, it gets rid of evil." Jessica nodded. "He went inside. He went looking for this ghost, because he couldn't let anyone else die the way his mom had been killed. Couldn't let anyone else go through the hell he had his whole life. Unfortunately, the ghost found him first. It threw him against the door, he hit his head hard. He didn't loose consciousness, he forced himself to stand, and he found the ghost, shot the gun, but he missed, the ghost tossed him around some more, before putting her hand inside his chest and clutching his heart, stopping it. He died. This hero. The ghost claimed one more victim. It was years before anyone found Michael's body. His family, what was left, had abandoned him and no one thought to look for him. He died, saving someone he didn't know and no one was there to thank him. No one was even there to give him a proper burial. He simply ceased to exist." Sam ended his story and a stunned hush filled the room.

"Law? You chose law?" Zach finally said breaking the tension. "Dude you should have done creative writing. That was the most depressing story I've ever heard."

"But it wasn't scary either." Kyle jumped in.

"It was scarier than yours." Emily said jauntily.

"At least his had a ghost in it." Jessica said in defense.

Sam looked up at his friends, the friends he had fought for, lost his father over, and finally his brother. He thought of his brother lying in an abandoned house, he wondered if anyone would go looking for him. What a way to live a life. No one around to notice you were missing. Dean had made that particular scene for himself, Sam decided. He had been the one to tell Sam that he didn't want to ever see him again. But somewhere deep in the back of his mind he heard himself say, "only after you made it clear what was more important."

Jessica watched the emotions play across Sam's face and realized that Michael was someone that Sam cared about, she wondered if that was Dean. She wondered just how much of that story was truth and how much was fiction.