Title: Reflections
Author Amy Jonas
Rating: FRG AKA PG
Summary: Sam reflects on his life
Sam stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. The florescent lighting made his skin look pale and drawn or perhaps it was a result of long days and even longer nights with little sleep, too much caffeine and painful memories that plagued his thoughts.
"Hey, Sammy." Dean thumped on the door. "If you're done primping in there let's go get a beer."
"No thanks," Sam muttered, not looking away from the mirror. "I'm going to turn in early." He sensed Dean still standing on the other side of the door, worrying so he added, a hint of irritation in his voice. "And don't call me Sammy."
He heard the expected soft chuckle then footsteps. Seconds later, he heard the motel room door closing.
"It's Sam." He added as an afterthought. His reflection stared back at him and he saw the confusion embedded in his eyes and he wondered just who 'Sam' was.
He thought he knew once but now he's not so sure.
First there was Sammy: the small boy who used to huddle under his covers, terrified of the thing in his closet with only the cold, hard metal of a .45 for comfort. Sammy who desperately tried to understand his father and brother's obsession of finding the killer of a mother he had no memory of.
There is Sam. Whose teenage craving for normalcy and a safe haven drove a chasm between him and his father and brother. He tried to escape the hunt by burying himself in schoolwork, Saturday baseball games and matinees but even those few moments of 'normal' were haunted by the knowledge of what lurked in the shadows while the other kids lived blissfully unaware.
There was another Sam, though. The Sam who found hard won normalcy in Stanford: a bright future ahead of him with friends and a girlfriend.
He thought of Jess and the loss burned a hole in his heart like acid. It was strange, the things he remembered most about her. Her smile. It was so warm and bright and real. The smurf t-shirt she wore to bed. The way she challenged him while debating a point with him. Or the times she attempted to sneak up on him when he was studying, launching herself at him to initiate a tickle war.
With his self-defense training he could easily have pinned her to the floor. A quick win. Instead he pretended to be unaware of her behind him and soon they were tussling on the ground, laughing together. Often it led to them making love.
Sam stared at his reflection, put together from the jagged pieces of all those Sams. He rarely smiled anymore let alone laughed. He wondered what Jess would think of him now. Would she even recognize the man she had loved with this intense, angry, driven person he had become?
His reflection offered no answer only the insight that he had allowed Jessica to see only one Sam. The normal Sam before his life had been destroyed in an unholy baptism of fire.
He wished…
He tore his gaze from his reflection, refusing to give voice to the thought. He opened the bathroom door, pulling off his clothes as he prepared for another restless night. He was careful to avoid looking at the ceiling, lest he conjure the image already burned into his memory.
Whatever happened next, he knew this current Sam would be the one to find justice for Jessica. And revenge for himself.
He wondered if it would drive him further from the person Jessica knew.
Or perhaps it would mend all those broken pieces.