A/N: "Nightmare" was AMAZING! WOW! I am totally lovin' the show so much. Anyway, SORRY for lack-of-updating. Been busy. Life is hectic. Well, enjoy! Feedback/Reviews appreciated! (P.S. This is a short chapter, but I promise to update ASAP)
O.O.O.O.O.O.
Chapter Fourteen – A Brief Sam to Sam Talk
His arm was wrapped underneath her upper body as Dean's hand tiredly rubbed Amy's shoulder subconsciously. She cuddled close to him and buried her face into his shoulder. His head turned momentarily for his lips to rest gently against her brown-red hair. They slept quietly in the air mattress as the clock against the wall slowly ticked toward four o'clock in the morning.
O.O.O.O.O.O.
Sam and Younger Sam sat outside on the back porch. The twenty-two-year-old drank a small white cup of coffee. The two sat quietly in their chairs as they stared into the trees. There were a couple of fireflies in the bushes. Their eyes were transfixed on the tiny green-yellow lights.
Both young men wore a hoodie over their pajamas. It was cold out. Sam rested his empty cup on the porch table and then stuck his hands into his pockets.
"You should get to bed," Sam offered. "You have to get up for school in a coupla hours."
His Younger self nodded in agreement. The young teenager didn't move.
"Something wrong?" the twenty-two-year-old asked.
Younger Sam sighed as he stared off into the distance. He was lost in a gaze as he spoke: "How's the future? I mean…I know it's pointless in telling me anything…when you guys go back to 2005, it'll be as if none of this ever happened…but I want to know…"
"Know what exactly?"
The teen sighed to himself. Both were aware of what the fourteen-year-old meant. He didn't care if Arnold Schwarzenegger was the governor of California. He wouldn't care that war was declared on Iraq due to what would happen on September 11, 2001. The boy wouldn't be interested in how the Harry Potter books and movies turned out. He didn't care for those details. Sam knew what he wanted to hear.
"Life does get better…trust me…" Sam assured. "It has its ups and downs. But…" He paused and sighed. "Still good."
"You lose your girlfriend, Jessica…" Younger Sam whispered. "How were you able to handle that?"
The question was like a broken record to Sam. He nodded and smiled. "I didn't. Not really. I've accepted it. But it's still hard."
Younger Sam slowly bobbed his head. He took in a great sigh and asked, "Does Dad really not like the idea of us getting a scholarship to college?"
"He was…" Sam tried to explain. He didn't want to bring up the World War III event that took place in the very living room six feet away.
"He didn't understand," Sam explained finally. "But he understood."
"I hate him," Younger Sam blurted out.
Sam looked at the young teen directly. "You say that. You think that. But it doesn't change the fact that you and I both know we could never hate him. We will always hold grudges…our family's good at that…" He laughed.
Young brown-almond eyes peered through the glass doors. He could see Dean and Amy still asleep in one another's arms.
"Will we ever be happy…like that?" Younger Sam asked.
Sam stared at the two as well. His eyes went back to the darkness within the trees. The fireflies seemed to disappear.
"Only the lucky ones do."
The teenager shook his head angrily. He laughed. "I hate this. I mean…I hate feelings like this. Like the good things I do don't count for anything."
"Sam," Sam whispered sadly. He had forgotten the teen drama he once faced within himself. "It does count. All of it. It all leads you to Stanford. It leads you to this amazing girl who you get to spend four wonderful years with-"
"She dies," Younger Sam blurted out angrily. "That's not fair. We hate this kind of life. And it'll always be after us…"
"That's why we fight back…"
"I hate fighting. I hate hunting."
"I know," Sam whispered. He shook his head in agreement. "I still don't understand it sometimes."
"And psychic?" Younger Sam questioned. "How the hell do I handle that?"
"For now…you don't." Sam mentioned. "But you have to understand this…eventually we all have to take that path. We can't stop what's coming. We can fight it or we can accept it."
The teenager stood up slowly. He yawned, allowing cold breath to be visible in front of his red nose. "I want to go to bed."
"Sam-"
"Goodnight," the Younger one said. He left the back porch quickly as he quietly entered the house.
Sam sat there in the cold staring off into space. He couldn't even convince himself that the future does get better. And worse…he thought sadly. What if he had never gone to Stanford? What if he had been so devoted to hunting, like Dean, that he and his brother just stuck together on the road after high school?
Then Jessica would still be alive…
He couldn't understand the feeling. All of a sudden the guilt and pain was coming back. He remembered her clearly. On the ceiling. A silvery nightgown drenched in blood. Her golden blonde hair being engulfed in flames. He was remembering everything. He couldn't block the images out. So he sat there. Remembering. Taking in the painful memories.
O.O.O.O.O.O.
A/N: Yeah, I know, random chapter. I wanted to put something in where Sam and Younger Sam have a short conversation. I need more angst/drama in here. I intend on updating later today – a bigger, better, and a more exciting chapter to the story! I have so many great ideas for new stories in my Meant To Be series. Ya know, more reviews/feedback would give me more incentive to update more….wink wink. I hope you all have a wonderful week!
